You Can't Heal Me-salvis

Pleasant Pain

Cw: harassment

--Travis pov--
Same night

I continued my shift for a few hours, Larry and Sal still stuck around but we haven't talked. I already took my break so it wasn't all too bad.

It was the same as always.

I turned on my phone, 2:17 am. Three more hours. Then home. My eyes fought to stay open, I knew I almost passed out a few times but I was occupying myself too much to rest.

The club was still full, groups from earlier left and new ones filed in. Like always.

"Hey pretty boy, when's your shift over?" Somebody yelled over to me. Fucking weirdos, why won't they leave me alone tonight.

I straightened myself up, looking at the figure who said the comment. He was about as tall as me, fairly good looking but obviously drunk.

"None of your business, go home." I sharply replied, hoping to show my disinterest in my tone.

"Oh, come on. I think you'd look pretty under me." Gross.

"You're not my type," they never take the hint. Of course, this wasn't uncommon. Atleast a few times a week I got these comments and luckily I was able to express the fact I wasn't interested.

"Well you're my type, come here pretty boy. I know you want me," he pulled me by my shirt collar. I was starting to get annoyed. A few people watched this unfold, I knew Larry and Sal we're also watching.

I dug my nails into the wrist that held me, "I said I'm not interested. Fuck off." He yelled and let go.

"Damn, I like boys with an attitude. I bet your loud and give a fight." He grinned, he didn't give it up. I rolled my eyes.

This pissed me off. I took a deep breath, don't get fired.

"I said no, leave me alone or else." I picked up a glass and started drying it off.

"Or else what sweetie?" He slurred his words.

"Don't fucking call me that." I raised my voice.

He took another drink of whatever he had and shakily hoisted himself over the counter. I stood my ground, I swear to god if this guy breaks anything and makes me pay I'll find out where he lives.

He walked towards me, with every step I backed away. I knew how to take care of this guy, just let him think he has the upper ground.

He held the small of my back as I was against the counter, I choked on the smell of alcohol on his breath.

"Aren't you pretty? Heh, fucking slut. You're not even putting up a fight, no fun."

"HEY, HE SAID FUCK OFF" Larry stood and yelled. People watched but not many cared, this was a common scene here.

I grabbed a cheap bottle and smashed it against this creeps head. As he backed away in pain I kicked him in the stomach, quickly going to hold his shoulders to bring my knee up to his dick.

Highschool atleast made me know how to make it hurt. He fell to his knees, exclaiming something in pain.

I raised his head to face me, "Or else that fucker, never touch me again." I walked over to the security guards again. Over the years we had gotten to know each other but I never cared enough to talk to them other than the usual 'get this person out'