Well, according to the poll, Alec vs. The Red Lobster Bathroom ACTUALLY WON. I never thought I'd see the day when just as many people wanted some molested!Alec as they desired some ducttape!Dean. It's like a Christmas miracle right here in my own LJ. :D *is teary eyed and holds hooves with claymation reindeer* So in the spirit of completing my whole entire 2-Happy-Holiday-Fictions-To-You-Guys, here is what is promised. It got kinda long because I seem physically unable to write PWP anymore. Damn you back story and tension building! *shakes fist*
Last part of 'Tripwire' will be posted sometime before my vacation hiatus starts and I get a chance to lounge amongst the evergreens for a while...
Candy Canely Yours,
p.s. speaking of x-mas miracles, a huge big belated sugar frosted kiss on the cheek to muffaletta! For the kind words, the wonderful gift and all in all just being a lovely person. Thank you so much! You brought a smile on a day when I didn't think I had another one in me. ♥
(sorry to tack public gratitude on a molestation fic, but uh, pretend its not down there. XD)
Title: Happy Hour
Rating & Warnings: NC-17 - Edge of Consent
this story exists within the Heat-Verse.
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: DA & characters are owned by their various creators.
Beta: Thank you Kat!
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
A silver steak knife stuck surprisingly well through the linen napkin, the cuff of Alec’s suit and the tablecloth.
He wasn’t ready to get out of his chair when Max said it, but he had been doing enough fidgeting and sighing to start to annoy even himself. He looked sideways at the lovely but mind numbing harp music playing less than two meters from their table and tossed down the cracker smeared with disgusting caviar. It wasn’t the first time anyone asked Alec to play pretend. Yanking the blade out of the table, he remembered this wasn’t even the first time he had to pretend he enjoyed sitting next to Max. Pushing the chair back, he got a good look down the front of the ill-fitting gown she had hastily acquired for the occasion.
Logan watched Alec over his wineglass as if he was waiting for timed plastics to explode.
“I’m just going to go get another glass of uh,” Alec checked what he was drinking. “Champagne.”
“Got three entire bottles here,” Logan said with forced calm. “On ice.”
Alec didn’t know what current drama might be playing between Eyes Only and his personal X5 and he didn’t really care. If Max couldn’t handle sitting alone with her own boyfriend it wasn’t his problem. He most especially should not be forced to suffer the heinous consequences. Logan wasn’t the one within stabbing distance of the utensils. The man also wasn’t sitting in the immediate radius of those lethal 6-inch heels Max was sporting like matching switchblades. The two of them had drawn Alec out here with the promise of a couple hundred bucks for some surveillance services but he had quickly come to regret the decision. Before the shrimp cocktail had even hit the table he knew no amount of money was worth this crap.
Logan and Max were staring at Alec and his unoccupied chair expectantly. When he made no move to return to his seat, Max rattled the standing ice bucket for emphasis.
“You know what? I’m gonna go find the pink kind,” Alec decided. “It’s my favorite.”
As soon as he’d left the static of the table’s airspace, he felt a whole lot better.
Free to travel the room, he quickly detached himself from his party's assigned banquet hall and started roaming the outer hallway. He walked past a rowdy wedding festivity, a birthday party with a MC Hammer cover band, and even a drunken funeral. But it was the sight of a darkened bar at the end of the corridor looked like paradise. The seats were a little softer but the rest of the scene looked the same. Ignoring the invisible price tags on finely aged malt liquors, Alec ordered what he wanted and sat back for the wait.
Alec turned to look at the guy a few stools over who was dressed much as he was: An expensive suit, his hair cut and styled close.
“Don’t see your type too often,” the man said.
Alec looked uncertainly at the guy, unsure of what the lame pick up line was meant for. Complete strangers only ever engaged him in conversation in hopes of a date, a drink or some drugs. There was definitely booze in Alec’s immediate future but he wasn’t buying for anyone but himself. That left two other options that this guy would have to find solutions for elsewhere. The man cleared his throat before he spoke again.
“Haven’t seen you since the fire.”
With a sinking dread, he realized he recognized the careful timber of the man’s voice. Even with all the assembled signs of an average citizen, he could discern a member of an X series no matter how many guises were in place. It was always a little dangerous whenever he encountered someone from back home. Especially when the sociable introduction did very little to ensure that any contact was friendly.
“X4 right?” Alec pretended to guess but he knew it like he knew his own barcode. “Didn’t know any of your series got out.”
“A couple of us did.” The guy smiled evenly back.
Alec had never seen much of the unit that was comprised of his older biological siblings. As far as he could remember, the older models were generally regarded as an imperfect and expendable battalion of what-ifs. However, this healthy transgenic didn’t appear to support the purported rumors of ill health and abnormalities. The guy sitting next to him could have been anyone on the street.
“You got a name now?” Alec asked him.
“I like the way that rolls off the tongue,” Alec nodded. “Is that French?”
“Met up with a bunch of your friends downtown,” 567 dealt out some cash to pay the bartender. “They didn’t know about you though.”
Alec had heard of lot of that. The ‘All for one and one for all’ crap went flying out the window as soon as reality of survival in the city had set in. All the individual X-series that had stayed locked in their own circles within the walls of Manticore quickly found each other again. Alec’s shoulders hitched in amusement. He supposed he’d gone and done the same thing in some sense of the term.
But Alec had probably never even met any of the ‘friends’ that this X4 was talking about.
This guy just meant some other rogue X5s.
“Guess we’re like roaches,“ Alec shrugged. “Without all the fun parts.”
The whiskey was pleasantly room temperature. Alec wet his lips with it, liking the searing burn as it evaporated on his tongue. Men with means always said the good stuff was smooth but this lingered like thick smoke curling over a hand wrapped cigar.
“Thanks.” Alec raised his glass.
“It’s the least I can do for an old friend,” 567 told him. “Don’t mention it.”
Another sip and the odd coincidence on meeting the transgenic didn’t seem that out of the ordinary. He was bound to come across random runaways from time to time. The waterside metropolis was an overcrowded sprawl jammed with millions of people. But for all its magnitude and convenient shadows, it still only had a finite amount of pockets to pick. It was just a matter of time before he ran into more of his kind busy trying to do the same.
The annoying keening saw of the three-man orchestra in the corner smoothed into something bright and cheerful. The stiff leather of his chair felt more comfortable than it seemed when he had first sat down.
An older lady with coiffed white hair suddenly appeared at the bar beside them. After a few hushed words that didn’t include the bartender, the X4 handed her something and money was exchanged. Rolling the whiskey in his mouth, Alec curiously watched the aged woman quickly leave through the sea of polished tables. He might not have caught all the details of the negotiations but he knew a sale when he saw one.
“You dealin’?” Alec raised an eyebrow. “In this place?”
“You’re doing well out in the real world too I guess huh?”
Usually the types of transgenics he ran into had no idea what previous part he had functioned in the Manticore machine. He liked that. It made all the walking products of that lab equal in a world that had leveled their playing field as efficiently as the impact of a nuclear bomb. He looked down self-consciously at the tux that wasn’t his. It figured that the one night he would run into an old pal he would happen to be dressed in this get up. Alec himself had been sort of a someone when he had been a part of Manticore’s special ranks complete with rare autonomy and a long leash.
The security at the door at this social facility had been substantial. The only reason he hadn’t had to enter the premises with a crow bar and some night camouflage was because of Logan’s connections.
567 looked wary for a moment but the look was quickly replaced with his likeable smile.
“Did you hear about that round up last year?” He asked. “The suits put something in the city water supply, caught a bunch of X5s just like you.”
Alec shifted uncomfortably, swallowing back a wave of unease.
“I-I think I heard about it.”
“Word got out. Bunch of labs started playing with it, you know, something for kicks for the general public,” The X4 explained. “A new toy for the ordinaries.”
Alec wondered what kind of nasty byproduct the synthetic hormone would construct and reduce an average body. The other transgenic tapped a thin glass vial on the varnished counter of the bar. Alec stared at the crumbled pink powder apprehensively.
“Turned out the stuff was too potent to work as a prescription pharmaceutical,” 567 shrugged. “All their human trial subjects ended up dead. Cardiac arrest or something.”
“Yeah.” Alec shook his head and took down a gulp instead of a sip. “Sounds about right.”
“But it does work, just only as it was originally meant,” he added. “It works on X5 units built to breed.”
Alec felt his face flush at the words. Wiping a hand over his damp forehead, he glanced irritably up at the ceiling air vents and wondered if it had somehow become warmer in the bar. However, his simmering anger wasn’t due to any faulty ventilation. Ever since the X4 had mentioned Ames White’s little trick with the water supply he’d been uncomfortably reminded of all the drug’s unpleasant and involuntary effects. Now amateur street hacks with Bunsen burners and some high school chemistry were trying to make it marketable for the street?
“That’s really some fantastic news,” Alec snorted. “And why the hell would any X5 buy that?”
“Never asked.” X4-567 said. “Haven’t seen a male X5 in a long time.”
Alec met the man’s steady look and found the interest in his unblinking gaze disturbing. Feeling self-conscious and slightly annoyed, he looked towards the exit and the party beyond.
“You need a job, Alec?”
It took him a few seconds to remember that he had never given this transgenic his name. Before he had a chance to think more about it, he was already answering the question that would maybe put an end to the strange conversation.
“If you’re looking for sales reps you’re askin’ the wrong guy,” Alec laughed nervously, his gaze back on the exit sign. “I got a couple things going on already and—“
“I thought you X5s were supposed to be smart,” 567 grinned. “You think I just bumped into you in a place like this by accident?”
Alec studied him for a moment before he noticed the X4’s attention was on the glass in his hand. Looking down at its contents, he sloshed the amber liquid back and forth.
“No way,” he mumbled in disbelief.
With a wash of cold fear, Alec heard his words were starting to slur together nicely. That was never a good sign after just a couple shots. He was engineered to consume a lot more alcohol before he came close to feeling any of the incapacitating effects.
“You dosed me,” he wanted to yell but it came out in a growl. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
The glass shattered several bottles when it exploded against the wall behind the bar.
Alec ignored several tables of guests turn nervously in their direction when he and 567 got to their feet. The bartender looked uncertainly between them both but wasn’t making a move towards the security phone. Alec’s rage flickered when the first step he took towards the X4 sent him stumbling back against his barstool. Shaking his head back and forth, he groaned miserably at the overpowering effects of synthetic hormone.
“He’s just drunk,” 567 assured the bartender. “I’ll take care of it.”
The dim lights went even darker as Alec was yanked over into a circular booth towards the far wall. Catching his breath, he tried to will his heart from pounding in his chest. He had to get the hell out of here. He had to stand up and leave right now. The leather buttoned backrest felt cold against his back even though he was starting to sweat. Hidden from the rest of room, he numbly watched as 567 tapped all the powder in the vial into a full shot of scotch.
567’s hand was pushing the glass to his lips. “Just a little more."
Instead of giving him a chance to drink it, the X4 tipped it back so it would all pour into his mouth at once. Alec coughed harshly on the flood of whiskey going down his throat the wrong way. He struggled when the transgenic’s firm hand sealed over his mouth and pinched his nose shut to make sure he didn’t spit any of it out. When he finally let go, Alec angrily jerked away but knew his motor control was sliding downhill fast. He could barely keep himself upright alone take off at any speed that would leave behind an X4. No one was looking in their direction. Not even the irritated bartender.
“One more like that,” the man urged. “Then you’ll be all done.”
Alec pushed at the X4’s hands but another gulp of liquor came followed by another. He spit the last mouthful back out into the glass but it was already too late. His senses were beginning to grossly dilate, gaping wide, allowing every scent, sight, and sound to creep in at full volume. The transgenic at his side brushed back his sweat damp hair in an almost affectionate gesture that made Alec nauseous.
“Never tried this on a male before.”
Alec forced back his fear and attempted to glare at him when no words would come. He had to concentrate on standing up and heading towards those draped double doors that lead back to the crowds. One look over his shoulder made him grit his teeth in frustration. Not only were the doors all the way across the room, they were blocked by half a dozen strangers who had all started to change color in subtle fluctuations of their appetizing pheromones.
“They always said this shit would hit the boys a lot faster,” 567 remarked anxiously. “You don’t smell like the girls do either.”
“T-That’s good to know.”
There had been a rumor of a few X5 females being sold by the hour somewhere in the city limits but Alec never knew just how it was done. He had thought maybe a couple of those soldiers had just given up and didn’t care how they got their cash. But this drug gave a buyer a brutal experience that some freaks actually might pay for. He sincerely hoped whoever induced this dangerous state into an X5 on purpose thought the experience was worth dying for too.
“Let’s go, Alec.”
He was helped ungracefully out of the booth as the pleasing soft blur of his surroundings began to shift even deeper into indistinct. The background scents of the bar started to rise from their places and become as obvious as obnoxious slashes of neon paint. He could tell how many people had sat right where he had and what types of alcohol they’d split on the varnished wood tabletops. Every human being within his vicinity started to become their cologne, fragrant powders and everything else lingering underneath.
“No-no...” Alec heard himself say. “There are some people waiting for me—“
He staggered into the X4, his senses stretching outside the room and into the crowds beyond. There were hundreds of people in this building, maybe even thousands, all talking, breathing, sweating and—
“Let’s take a walk.” 567 suggested.
Alec was about to argue but he knew he had to start moving. If he stood there for a moment longer he wasn’t sure he would be able to resist the nearest woman standing in the doorway. The long shimmering gown of hanging sequins she wore was laced with perspiration and a manufactured fragrance made from an animal musk. As he was pushed past her, he moaned at the urge to rip away the gem encrusted collar around her neck and gnaw at the damp flesh of her throat. An incessant ring tone made him aware that a nearby cell phone was going off. A few more rings made him understand that the persistent phone was his. Fumbling for it in his jacket, he pulled it out and felt some hope at the sight of Logan’s name on the display. Before he could answer it, the device was removed from his hands.
“They can leave a message.” The X4 said impatiently from his elbow.
“Where are we going?” Alec rubbed at his blurring eyes as he was quickly lead away. “I gotta get out of here, you don’t understand—“
“We’re almost there.”
567’s scent shrouded him in a protective layer as they moved from the artfully diffused lights of the bar and into the blissful enclosure of a small room. It was a relief to have the onslaught of scents abruptly overpowered by the single one. Alec heard a door close and tried to reach the panic fluttering in his belly that he knew would get him somewhere safe. The solider in him knew that he had not been brought here for safety. 567 had brought him here for seclusion. But try as he might, he couldn’t hang onto the panic long enough to think of what to do next.
“This will only take a minute,” 567 turned the bolt shut on the fancy beveled door. “Or two.”
It was a complete reprieve at first, to be in this room where all the meandering scents of the party outside were blocked off and muted into weak shadows. Alec could deal with the lingering outlines of the actual person, their glowing bare skin and warm exhales not pulling him by the core. But as soon as he fully comprehended how small the room was with its only exit closed, he started to detect the layer upon layer of scent created by the only man present. The smothering stratums of heat that radiated off his every gesture made Alec dizzy and disorientated.
“Get-get offa me,” Alec pulled away from him. “Don’t touch me.”
Alec squeezed his eyes shut at the smug sound in the older man’s voice.
A bowl of crushed roses sitting between the sinks distracted him with their boiling aroma. The reek of the pearly pump soap made him turn his head at the shape edge of its chemicals. Buffed mirrors covered the walls, a short hallway and a corner hiding the waft of freshly recycled chlorinated water. Over all of it was the steady smolder of the X that had brought him here. The presence of another transgenic always registered on his radar more keenly than any other human being. The proximity flipped on all the switches and sent his energy spiking into the red. Every muscle he owned was tensed with a craving he knew wouldn’t dissipate no matter how many miles he ran, or walls he punched down.
The X4 moved forward to block his path when he made a move for the exit.
Alec blinked in frustration at the locked door behind the man’s shoulder.
“I’m stronger than you are.” 567 said. “And you know it.”
“Whatever.” Alec wrenched his arm free from his grasp. ”Maybe.”
“Do you have a preference?” The transgenic sniffed him along his jaw line.
The heady flood of the man’s scent inundated his senses and made his eyes roll back in want.
“N-Not at the moment.”
The reaction to defend himself was as automatic as it was ineffectual. The X4 easily deflected his poorly aimed fist. A strong heave from the older transgenic sent him tumbling backwards onto the counter top. Trying to back away without touching him, Alec found himself shoved into the neat cubicle of mirrors that were softly lit to multiply their images into infinity. The motion sensor on a gleaming faucet believed his sleeve was a waiting hand and started pouring hot water down over his arm.
Being in the same room with the man had been almost intolerable, but the physical contact made the breath catch in his throat and his teeth grind.
Alec couldn’t move his arms in the tangle of his jacket. It had been pushed down but not removed so warm hands could explore his skin over the white fabric of the button down. After checking the feel of his arms and chest, one hand held his face while another pulled his shirt free from his pants.
“You’re a good weight,” 567 conceded. “Lot of you let yourselves go out here. No fresh food, no good water.”
Alec stilled when the hand clutched his chin. He wanted to kick and fight but the assault of sensations was overwhelming every thought of survival that entered his head. He couldn’t react to it fast enough, each overlapping touch leaving its lingering burn on his skin before it was suddenly being replaced somewhere else. With a firm rip and shred of fabric, tiny ivory buttons bounced everywhere as the shoulders of his shirt were pushed down with his crumpled jacket. The undone bow tie hung around his neck and grazed maddeningly across his collarbone. The steaming water had begun to fog all the mirrors, the condensation dripping in slow trails like the sweat down the middle of Alec’s back. Alec shuddered as fingertips gently trailed down the inside of his elbows looking for the scarred tracks that would mark him as a needle user.
“I don-I don’t do drugs.”
The self-righteous declaration made the older transgenic laugh softly as he pulled the pant pockets out looking for any other electronics. The same careful hands slid down his bare chest and sides, and then strayed down to his flat belly.
“No recent surgeries,” 567 nodded in distracted approval. “No transplants.”
Alec pushed himself into the man’s open palm when the belt jerked free, wanting the hand to slip over the barrier of clothing and press skin against skin. He didn’t resist when the transgenic spread his knees wider, feeling the swollen length and curve of his flesh before cupping the soft weight between his legs. Slumped back against the mirror, Alec lay immobile for a moment, unable to do anything as his pants were pulled down his thighs and he was yanked onto his back.
“I like this part,” He whispered in Alec’s ear. “It smells good.”
The remaining stiff layers of Alec’s suit felt stifling and damp, his eyes slipped back and the room went with it.
“But you don’t smell like the girls do when they change.”
“They smell like ripe warm fruit,” His lips moved against the skin under Alec’s ear. “You smell like something sweet that’s just about to burn.”
He felt his strength matched as his arms reached out into the heat on top of him. He couldn’t tell if he was dragging the transgenic closer or desperately trying to push him away. There was too much clothing in the way, barriers that were keeping him from the source of the scent. The air was heavy like a sauna, saturated with every molecule of the other transgenic’s need. In a lightheaded moment, Alec wondered if his own pheromone was thick enough in the air to taste. The grip on his hips turned bruising, the searing wet mouth moving between his thighs making tears leak from his eyes and his hands groped to hold on to anything he could find. Every inhale drove Alec drove closer to total overload; every exhale he tried to close any physical space left between them.
But X4-567 wasn’t doing what Alec wanted.
He wanted to be filled and covered.
Coated and crushed.
He tried to struggle upwards, but two hands roughly pushed him back against the dripping mirrors. Alec fought with his tangled arms and writhed on the steady grip on the aching heat between his legs. The transgenic over him appeared slightly stunned, his shock as plain as the desire on his face.
“T-The girls don’t ever trip this hard,” 567 stuttered nervously, his hand hovering at his forehead as if he had a pain. “It feels —I feel like—”
Alec lay winded, staring up at him in uncertainty. He could see in six different distorted angles around them and the X4’s eyes didn’t look right. The other transgenic appeared as lost as Alec felt, unanchored and so hungry that he didn’t care how fast or vicious he was going to take it.
“I-I must have given you too much or something—“
“Funny how that works.” Alec growled, wadding the man’s shirt in a fist and bringing him back. “Feels fine from here.”
The violence of the kiss choked them both but Alec was no longer concerned with breathing. A slick sweat on their skin let their bellies slide as they ground against one another. Alec liked it when he heard the X4 gasp as he bit hard at the tender flesh over the starched white collar. His hand found the shaking grip of the X4 and dragged it back between his legs. Alec stuttered out a muffled cry as the squeeze of the fist started to pump him in time with the thrust of tongue in his mouth.
It turned his vision to white and his heart skipped twice in his chest.
Somehow, above the noise of the rushing water overfilling the sinks and splattering onto the tile, Alec heard the doorknob turn and a pound on the door. If he concentrated he could hear the urgent sound of a voice, a man’s shout calling out his name.
It was Logan.
Alec tried to muffle his moans under his arm every time his head and shoulders slammed into the wall behind him. The burning throb peaked and blinded him one more time, arching his back off the blood warm marble and flinging his head backwards into the glass. When his vision finally refocused, a lattice of fine hairline cracks decorated the walls and the facet that had been digging into his back swung from its mount. A spout continued to fill the vanity sink and gushed over onto the counter, soaking his disheveled clothing with steaming water. The seep of its burn soaked into his pants and down his legs made him shudder with another jolt of over stimulation. His tampered biology rapidly reset itself, his body eager to touch again, willing to be pulled and coaxed to do anything at all. He pushed his hands between his legs and groaned in dread at the immediate and wholly unnatural response.
“Y-You’re crazy.” The X4 stammered between inhales. “You’re gonna hurt somebody.”
Alec breathlessly studied the bruised face of the other transgenic for a moment before abruptly remembering that none of this shit was his idea. In a burst of exasperated rage, he hauled one leg back and kicked the bastard as hard as he could. The X4 had somehow retained enough stability to avoid knocking over a large decorative fern and a stylish leather chair. Alec watched on as the guy managed to fix his pants back into place and tuck his shirt in.
567 was trying to unlock the door and keep an eye on Alec at the same time.
“It’ll wear off in an hour,” The X4’s voice was strained. “Just-just stay away from me.”
Painfully righting himself, Alec wondered how the finely attired transgenic was going to explain his black eye and the bloody bite marks he had all over his collar. He dazedly considered how the hell he was going to explain his own battered and drenched state. The thought of all the reasonable but unwanted questions made him look for any convenient windows that might lead to the street. The transgenic paused at the lock when the knocking started again. This time a bit more fervently and with some added impatience behind it. Alec noted dully that his phone was also ringing again somewhere in the X4’s jacket. The noisy cell clattered onto the tile floor just as the door slammed open on its hinges. Alec winced at the muffled curse Logan made when he was shoved into the opposite wall to make way for the X4’s hurried exit.
Alec had enough time to slide down to the floor and cover most of himself up before Logan got into the doorway. Stepping into the room hesitantly, he nervously checked back over his shoulder for any signs of the retreating transgenic. Pushing his glasses up onto his nose, the man looked around the ruins of the bathroom in confusion.
“Alec?” Logan ventured. “Y-Your phone came on and I heard something. Max is looking for you outside—“
He whimpered when Logan’s scent struck him like a brick wall. The panic and the simmer of fear all mixed together with the sweet edge of adrenaline.
“Are you all right—“
“Stay over there.” Alec hoarsely ordered.
“What the heck happened?” he demanded. “Who was that guy?”
Logan’s astonishment wore off enough to comprehend that Alec was trying very hard to pull up the zipper on his pants. The X4 had yanked it down so hard the teeth had all warped and twisted. Giving up, Alec fell to his side and covered his face with his hands. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know the owner of the heeled footsteps that were coming down the outside hall. Max’s smell arrived just as she did, a perfume of exertion and anxiety all steeped in the red roil of her aggravation.
Her lack of reprimand and sharp intake of breath told him she could immediately smell what was wrong. The closed up room was flooded with the forced spill of genetically enhanced pheromones. For once, he was happy not to spend any time having to explain himself.
“C-Can you do me a favor?” Alec asked.
He waited in agony for the reluctant silence to end in some much needed compliance.
“Okay.” Logan responded cautiously.
“Barricade the door and come back... later.”
The sound of the door quickly closing and the bolt being forced into the lock position was the best thing he’d heard all day. Rolling onto his side, he moaned and wrapped his arms around his head.
He just hoped Max was standing by if he happened to knock down a wall.
cross posted to jam_pony_fic