alecflynnarchive

[alecflynnarchive]

Alec scoffed, made entirely of fake outrage and disbelief. "What do you mean? You're literally my only customer. You have all of my attention right now. That's not special to you?"

Okay, maybe there was a touch of genuine disbelief mixed in there somewhere, pulled into creation by something long since dead between them and twisting itself to fit into now. A long ignored feeling morphing itself until it took the correct shape. A confirmation, however small, that he wasn't enough on his own. The conclusion drawn like coaxing water from stone, sure, but it was an infallible truth all the same. At least, as far as he was concerned.

His eyes met hers and he got the sense that he was being studied, measured. His head tilted to one side, puppy like even as something rose within him that felt like a challenge. "Like what you see?"

Maya’s lips twitched in amusement as she glanced at the drink he’d presented her with, and tilted her head at Alec with a knowing look. “A tonic and gin,” she repeated, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Truly groundbreaking. You’ve outdone yourself.” She lifted the glass, and tipped it in a playful toast to his “genius” before taking a sip. Maya kept her eyes on him over the rim of the glass, amused despite herself. “You know with all that flair, I thought I was getting special treatment,” she teased as she set the glass down. “But no. At least you know how to pour a decent drink.”

She studied Alec as she took another sip of her drink, trying to reconcile the boy she remembered with the man in front of her. Maya could easily connect the dots and see how the two points connected. Alec still had that easy frustrating charm of his, but he still managed to be so closed off under the guise of being an open book with no worries.

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Alec's face turned to playfully grave admiration, hand splayed over his heart as though he was so touched by her words. Overcome with false and dramatic emotion, he shrugged. "Some people just have it, you know?"

His smile only widened as she continued because surely she didn't realize the perfect set up she'd just given him. "Well, I have been called a master baiter." There was a pause while he laughed at his own joke, thoroughly entertained by himself even if no one else was. "No, but really, I already look good— you said so yourself," he helpfully reminded her, "so really, I'm only trying to do you a favor. Conquering your fears and entertaining the masses. I'm basically rockstar Jesus." There was that modesty again.

But a song. Hmm. He didn't often duet, even if he did try to rope Clem into it with him when he found practice getting a little dull and repetitive and boring. "You've seen Grease, right? What about something from that?"

Maya scoffed, shaking her head as she caught the double meaning in Alec’s words. She smiled in spite of herself and tilted her head as she met his gaze. “Perfectly above average, huh?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Funny how modesty just oozes out of you, Alec. It’s truly inspiring.” 

Her tone was playful, but there was a spark in her eyes as she let the moment linger, seeing his grin widen. Alec was absolutely infuriating, but she could admit to herself at least that he could be charming. Maya glanced at the stage long enough to see the guy up there hit a particularly off-key note for his grand finale. The crowd erupted into cheers anyway, feeding off his enthusiasm versus his talent. She laughed again, shaking her head and turning back to Alec. He was already watching her. “Are you trying to bait me into embarrassing myself so I’ll make you look good by comparison?” she asked, her tone teasing as she leaned in closer. His challenge landed, though. “I’m not scared. You must be confusing me with someone else,” Maya laughed with a bit of false bravado. She wasn’t scared, but she was nervous about getting up on stage in front of everyone. “But if I’m going up there, I’m definitely not making a fool of myself alone. So, you’re on, Rockstar.” Maya poked Alec in the chest. “What should we sing?”

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Caught in her gaze, Alec allowed his own to linger, trading smirks with Shambles as he leaned into her hand in his hair. Almost against his own will, his eyes closed to the feeling— if he'd been a cat, he'd be purring— and he sighed contentedly in the middle of a rave with his ass cheeks on full display.

"Hmm?" he asked, one eye peeking open at her question. He'd forgotten about his admirers and frankly, right now, he didn't care. Perhaps it was the ecstasy he'd only remembered he'd taken now that its presence was loud and demanding. "Fuck that feels good," he sighed again. His other eye opened then, both of them still settled on her. She was the closest and most familiar thing to him right now and so, she was the only thing that existed.

What was it she'd asked him? Which one he thought was the hottest? His lids lowered but didn't close as his smirk curled just a touch more devilishly. "I'm looking at her."

"You are always hot," she smirked. She knew she was probably looking at him a little too fondly, and staring for a little too long, and playing with his hair long after the veil had been fixed, but Shambles was intoxicated enough that the idea just made her giggle. Alec was gorgeous, everyone knew that, and if the chemicals in her system were reminding her of it, it wasn't her fault.

"You could. I bet they'd flock over like seagulls to french fries," she laughed. "Which one would you say is the hottest? I would say the redhead, but you know I'm into those."

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"How were you ever cool in school?" Alec teased, features scrunched in the face of his old friend. "Or is this just what happens to government workers? A soul sucking job that comes for your sense of humor first until you're nothing but an empty, angry husk. That's when you go to work at the DMV. That place is where dreams go to die."

Alec tried to imagine the Graham he knew in school as a mayor type. To be totally honest, he wasn't even sure he knew who the mayor of Blue Harbor was, let alone what kind of power they wielded over the people. He was as disconnected as he could realistically be, though, so that was likely more a him problem than a town-wide one. "All of those options sound terrifying," he jested, laughing at his own ribbing. "You wanna be one of those criminal defense attorneys or something more bleeding heart, like those, uh... charity lawyers. What are they called? Something something boners?"

He straightened when the conversation came around to his music, perking up at the opportunity to talk about himself and the thing he loved most in this world. "Oh, yeah, for sure. Me and Clem are still going at it. I actually think I just landed us a recurring gig here. Sweet talked the boss man. Didn't really take as much lubing as I thought it would."

"you know me, i rock and i roll," he shrugged with a moony smile. for being such a nerd, it was impressive that graham was one of the reigning supreme beings of their high school. part of it was his family name carrying his weight through blue harbor, and the other part was that he was the life of the party whenever he had the opportunity to be. as the ke$ha song that was oh-so popular at all their high school soirees said, the party didn't start 'till he walked in.

"definitely not trying to become the president, i would break under all the pressure," honestly, he'd probably have the white house handled. graham, however, didn't have such grand ambitions. at most, he would stay consistent in his run with local politics. "maybe a city councilman at most, or mayor. honestly, alec, i don't really know what's next. i'm on track to get my j.d. by spring of next year, so i may become a practicing lawyer, if i get my license. or, i could continue to work in city hall. the world is my oyster, or something like that." the future was daunting, but graham would never admit the full extent of it.

"what about you? any musical feats of late? you still play, don't you?"

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"Don't knock it 'til you try it," Alec said with a grin, turning to fully face the man, one hand still shoved in his pocket, fist clenched around the bag he'd just secured. He took a moment to look this guy over, clean cut in fancy clothes with that unmistakable pompous attitude that only came from money. Alec knew the type well, had found himself tangled up in a back seat with more than a small handful of them.

They'd all insisted they didn't slum it, either.

He couldn't help but laugh, a cheeky sound meant to rankle or endear, depending on the person. "I'd be screwed? A little cop/prisoner roleplay, then?" There was a small pause and then Alec waved his free hand. "I'm just fucking with you, man. But I don't think the cops really give a shit about a gutter kid scoring some coke in an alley. But I'll keep that in mind for next time."

He saluted the man, readying to leave since he could tell he was clearly not making friends, and Alec didn't like to linger in places he wasn't wanted. But then the question came and Alec's interest spiked. His eyes narrowed into something a little more calculating as a smile spread slow across his face once again. There was money to be made here. Alec liked money. "You looking for a plug?" he asked, head cocking to the side. "I could give you a little taste if you want. First one's on me."

Well, that was a first. Nathan's brows shot up and he stared at the kid for a moment, deciding whether he should dignify any of that with a response. His eyes flicked up and down the boy's form and finally he said dryly, “Don't flatter yourself. Slumming it really isn't my style.” Good grief. Perhaps he'd been wrong in his assessment of him. His attitude screamed 'trouble' where Nathan preferred his contacts to have a bit more subtlety. Unfortunately, it wasn't like he had many choices here.

His hands slid into his pocket and he rocked back on his heels, letting out a sigh. “I'm not a cop, but if I were you'd be screwed. Bit of a cliche, buying drugs in an alleyway. And a well lit one at that.”

Moving to Blue Harbor had been a wrench in more ways than one, particularly in terms of missing contacts. In New York he'd had an entire network of useful people to get him in doors, acquire impossible tickets, and sell him the best of the best. Here that network was next to non-existent. He'd assumed that wouldn't be much of an issue, but with the boredom setting in the lack of any local dealers in his phone was bordering on desperate. Hence the conversation at hand. “That gear any good?” He asked, nodding to where Alex's baggie had disappeared into his pocket.

➥ tagging @alecflynn

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Alec wasn't really one to play games. People thought he did, certainly, because of his penchant for cutting and running, but he did find it hard to resist a challenge. So her tone and the look in her eye made the line of his spine tingle, like invisible hackles rising along his back. They were both dancing around a lot of unspoken words, that much was clear. And now it seemed as though the game was seeing which one broke first.

As far as Alec was concerned, he'd take his grievances to the grave.

So he smiled like he had a secret. This was The Pour House, nothing about it was fancy, but he nodded all the same. "New fancy concoction coming right up."

He turned his back on her to mix up his drink, arms moving with an unnecessary flourish as though he were some mad scientist hard at work. When he turned back to present her with her drink, what he set down was a run-of-the-mill, everyday gin and tonic. He beamed. "I call it... a tonic and gin."

Maya met Alec’s gaze, fighting her lips’ desire to form into a pout. He had always been good at this – smooth talk, mischievously grinning like nothing bad had ever touched him. It was that charm that always seemed to draw people into his orbit, but right now all it did was make her chest tighten. His quip about not going anywhere made her snort.

“Congratulations,” she drawled out, her tone slightly sarcastic as she met the challenge in his eyes. There was so much more she wanted to say, to bring up – the memory of unanswered text, and the radio silence that stretched on and on still stung – but the last thing she wanted to do was fight with Alec. Blue Harbor was a small enough town that it made running into old ghosts unavoidable, so she was better off pushing it down for now. After another moment of holding his gaze, Maya released a sigh, the tension sliding off of her shoulders and then leaned casually against the car. “How about a gin and tonic? Unless you’ve got some fancy concoction up you’re sleeve you’re dying to show off.”

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Shouldn’t you be out hunting shadows? It’s my night off.

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"I'm never cocky," Alec said with an overtly cocky grin, eyes glinting with all the energy of a wink without actually winking at her. "Don't worry about the size of my head." There was a heavy double-meaning dancing between the lines of his words. "It's perfectly above-average."

His attention trailed to her as she watched the guy on stage. He hadn't been lying— the dude was terrible. But he was having fun and people were having fun watching him, and to Alec, that was what it was all about. When her eyes moved back to him, he was already looking at her, cracking a smile in agreement. "So is everyone else who's watching." He nodded his head toward the bar at large, encouraging her to look around and see for herself. He couldn't imagine that kind of energy and attention wouldn't be enticing.

"Convincing, hm?" Alec's lips pursed as he thought that over. "I could go up there with you." He paused as he met her challenge with one of his own. "If you're scared."

“Don’t get too cocky,” she warned, crossing her arms defiantly. “You know you’ve got something up there.” Maya shook her head, fighting an amused smirk. “You’ll get an even bigger head if I’m not careful,” she teased, taking another sip of her drink. Her tone was playful, but the genuine admiration was still there, even if she’d never give him the satisfaction of actually saying how much she enjoyed watching him.

Maya glanced over towards the stage, catching sight of the guy passionately belting out his song, entirely off-key and blissfully unaware. She couldn’t help but laugh, returning her gaze to Alec. “I’ll give it to hi–he’s really feeling it.” Maya leaned in slightly, almost as if she’d just shared a secret. She’d never really been the kind of girl called to the spotlight. She could tell Alec was still riding the energy of his performance, and it was hard to resist getting a bit caught up in it. “But, if I’m going up there, you’re gonna have to do a bit more convincing than that,” she challenged, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

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Alec did his best not to physically recoil from the word boyfriend. His own issues with commitment aside, he couldn't remember ever having been told about this Jason before he was suddenly so important to Damian that he was giving up things that he loved. Was that what relationships were, in the end? Compromising yourself to the point you became some one dimensional figure meant to shadow the other person? Lose yourself entirely to their whims and wants and bid farewell to pieces of yourself until you were only left with the half meant to make up someone else?

No, he'd made the right call, swearing something like that off.

Still, Alec's nose scrunched, a look of distaste he did not try to conceal pulling at his features, warping them until he looked as unrecognizable as Damian did now. "Okay, I'm not an expert at relationships, but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to still be able to love all the things you loved before. Unless it was like, fucking other people, I guess. But honestly, bro, he sounds like a dick."

It was only once the words were out that Alec wondered if he shouldn't actively shit all over the partner of a friend he was trying to keep. "I mean, he's probably great." A self-edit lulled him into a momentary pause. "I'm sure he's great. But. I don't know, man. It kinda sounds like you're not allowed to be... like... you. And I like you. That doesn't sound like a good partner to me." He shrugged, feeling defeated and like it didn't matter what he said. He'd probably only succeeded in putting Damian on the defensive, so he could recognize when a fight wasn't worth the effort. He sighed once, thick and full of unspent words and then, finally, stepped to the side. "Yeah, man. Whatever you gotta do."

Damian feels the impact of Alec’s words like a gut punch, his stomach twisting at the sound of Jason’s name coming from Alec’s mouth. It sounds so — wrong, he thinks. And yet it’s his fault it’s there, in the first place. He hadn’t meant to even mention him, really, hadn’t wanted to open that door and let Jason slip into this part of his life, too. And now here he is, like a shadow looming over everything, making it impossible for Damian to keep his worlds from colliding.

He forces himself to keep his expression neutral, but he knows Alec sees right through him. Alec’s looking at him with that mix of confusion and frustration, like he’s trying to puzzle out a problem that shouldn’t be this complicated. It makes Damian want to turn around and walk away, shove this conversation into a box he’ll never have to open again. But Alec’s eyes are locked on his, pleading for an answer Damian’s not sure he can give.

“Jason’s…” Damian hesitates, forcing the words out even though they feel like they’re scraping his throat raw. “He’s my boyfriend.” He lets the word hang between them, heavy and strange, like it doesn’t quite belong. “We’ve been together a while now.” There. A truth. An entire one, at that, not half of one like he’s been spewing throughout this conversation. But he can’t let Alec dig any deeper, because he knows he’ll unravel under the weight of it, spill everything he’s been trying so hard to hide.

“This is what I want,” he lies, his voice barely above a whisper, but he can feel the strain in it, the way it trembles just enough to betray him. He forces a weak smile, trying to make it convincing, but even he can feel how hollow it is. “Look, I know it sounds — weird. But I’m trying to make things work. Jason — he doesn’t get why D&D matters so much, why I’d want to spend time doing something like that instead of—” His voice trails off, his words faltering as he realizes how ridiculous it sounds. Instead of what? Spending more time getting twisted up in Jason’s rules, in his constant demands for control?

But he can’t say that. So he shrugs, glancing away, his hand slipping into his pocket, fingers gripping the lighter like a lifeline.

“It’s not forever, alright?” Damian says finally, looking back at Alec, feeling the desperation crawl up his spine. “Just — give me some time. Figure things out. I just — have to be better.” The words feel empty, the way he recites them to Jason after a fight. I’ll be better, I’ll be better, I promise I’ll be better. The same way they taste when Jason shoves them down Damian’s throat. He forces another smile, though it’s strained, frayed around the edges, and prays Alec doesn’t push any further. “I really have to go, now, Alec.”

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Well. That was the first time Alec had ever been called brilliant. He beamed under the compliment, the fact that it came from his superior making it feel like genuine praise. Alec had been a hustler his entire life, but he'd never been called good at a job. Probably because he tended to treat them like they were optional.

But it was hearing how flippantly he threw around dollar amounts had Alec's eyes turning into dollar signs. A hundred dollars for a few hours of performing? Fuckin' count him in! But... if he could take a mile from an inch, then he would. "That's each, right? That's about standard, yeah."

Alec's hands slipped casually into his pockets, grin widening at the fervent energy radiating from his boss. The fact that he just had a little notebook in his pocket made Alec bite back a laugh. He understood a need to write something down the moment it entered his head— he was a songwriter— but he'd never been organized enough to have a whole ass notebook at his disposal. But instead of ragging on the man, Alec just reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, opening up Spotify where he uploaded the most polished Anthem of Vandals songs. "We're rock, mostly. A little bluesy sometimes." He pulled up a track list, feeling uncharacteristically nervous to share. "You can listen to some if you want."

at alec’s suggestion, calahan’s golden eyes illuminated. yes, that was absolutely what they needed — something to inject some life into the place, something to wipe away the layer of dust that had settled upon every furnishing and bar stool. there was only so much that some disinfectant and an old rag could do. “you know what, i think you’re onto something there.” the owner could barely contain his excitement. he stood, hands on the bar, leaning over as though the bartender had approached him with some unmissable business proposition. “i bet you’d be brilliant!” had calahan heard alec’s band? no. did he know much about music at all, beyond the hymns he had once heard in church and the dulcet tones of third eye blind. anything would be better than the distant hum of the jukebox that, every few songs, needed a good firm thump on the roof to dislodge the needle and stop it from skipping. “whatever you want, kid. how much do you pay for something like that? a hundred?” growing up wealthy had skewed calahan’s perception of money, and the conversation rate from euro to dollar had only exacerbated the issue. now, alec had something to do. cal pulled a small notebook from the top pocket of his jacket, felt the bar for a dry and unsticky surface, and opened it to begin scrawling their master plan. he was feverish, as though possessed — there were some moments where he paused and stared at his reflection and genuinely wondered whether something had wormed its way within him. “what kind of music do you play?” 

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Alec noted that she was yet to remove her hand and intrigued still by the way she was currently toying with him. A brow raised in interest, his mind following the trail her words had paved. Before he could get too carried away in it, she coaxed a laugh out of him. "I pick the prize, huh? Could be dangerous." His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered, pitched only for her to hear. "But I get the impression you like a little bit of danger."

There was a pause as he let that sink in, settling back in his stool. He scoffed, waving away the self effacing comment. "Compared to me? I know." His lips pulled into a dramatic pout. "But if it makes you feel any better, it's more of a curse than a blessing." His beer was set before him and he plucked it up, glancing at her over the rim as he took a swallow, eyes shut tight as it burned its way down. And not in the good, wake-your-senses-up whiskey way. Damn, he should've gotten a whiskey. "You're mostly right. My house has wheels, though, so I've lived a lot of places. Where were you living before you came here? You don't really scream the small town type to me."

"And to think you came in here trying to mock me for my drink choice," she teased, hand never leaving its placement while her free hand grabbed her cup once again to take a long sip from it. "You wouldn't want to know the name of someone who could make you beg for more? That's a shame..." she smirked back, turning to where her body was fully facing him at this point. "We could play a game, maybe like hangman, and see how long it takes for you to piece it all together. You can choose your prize and all." she tilted her head at him, wanting to see if he'd bite or come up with his own game.

"Wild Cherry does fit though, in the right circumstances," she spoke again, a curious look falling over her. "You really think so? I think I look pretty ordinary compared to some," she said playfully before continuing on. "Brand new, only been here about three months. I assume you've lived here....hmm, all your life?"

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"Since I became a vampire. This is the skin of a killer, Bella," Alec said, patting Dante on the cheek lovingly as he squeezed by him and made his way inside. The mention of food made his stomach rumble in response, the j he'd smoked on the way over effectively rendering him powerless against the munchies. "Fuck yeah, man. Always. Been living off the same bag of Takis for two days." Because he'd blown all his money on... well. Blow. But that wasn't the important part. The important part was that he was broke and Dante was offering.

He flopped onto the couch, legs spread wide as he made himself comfortable. This was a mostly social visit, of course, but since he'd been to Sawyer's, he couldn't help but wonder when that particular bridge was going to be gapped. It felt like splitting time between mom's and dad's when his friends were fighting, and with them it was always a matter of when not if they kissed and made up. But there was a formula to these things. You had to lube up the conversation and ease your way in. Everyone knew that.

"Hey, so when are you and Sawyer gonna get over your shit?"

With everything from his end being all settled, Dante only had to wait now. Wait for the place to be situated, wait for the paperwork to come through, licenses to be approved, and wait for the opening day. He had never been a patient person, but finding ways to distract himself always came easy to Dante. Picking up a guitar was more dangerous than picking up a gaming control for the young musician. He attempted to write some but then a knock on his front door caught his attention. Alec’s presence immediately filled him with excitement. Dante loved being around his people. “Since when do you need an invitation?” he inquired, raising a brow with amusement but moved out the way of the door for the other male to enter. “Ol’ man’s sleeping but we should be fine on the couch - You want something to eat?” He was sure he could find some pizza rolls in the freezer. His pawpaw always got him some knowing just how much he ate.

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Alec had been warned about this before. He was as subtle as a brick through a window about everything ever, and that included buying drugs right here in the middle of the street. For fuck sake, they'd at least picked a little shadowy spot, right? Everyone was usually good at minding their own business.

Except, apparently, this guy.

He'd snuck up behind Alec, and he whirled around, pocketing his coke and giving the man a once over. "Hey, buddy. If you're trying to knock on the back door, then you're either going to have to pay or take me to dinner first. I like a nice juicy steak, for the record." Again, he looked him up and down, taking the time to really take him in. He was dressed sharp, like one of those fancy businessmen downtown. Alec narrowed his eyes. "If you're a cop, you have to tell me."

➥ location: smoker's alley, harlem st cafe ➥ status: closed starter for @alecflynn

Cool air brushed Nathan's skin, a welcome relief from an evening spent in the warm embrace of the lounge. It was quiet in the alley with most of the guests inside enjoying the show, but not everyone. He leaned his back against the wall and lit a cigarette, waiting. Sure enough, moments later there was movement down the other end. Two figures; one a faceless stranger, the other a boy he'd followed out here. He'd seen the kid around a couple of times before and with every encounter his suspicions had grown.

He watched the exchange in silence, taking in the unmistakable signs of a deal being struck. Goods exchanged hands and eventually faceless retreated, disappearing into the darkness beyond. How cliché. Seeing his opportunity, Nathan pushed off from the wall and wound his way down to the boy, who was busy shoving something into his pockets.

"You should learn to be a bit more subtle," he said in lieu of a proper greeting. "Might not be cameras out here, but you never know who might be watching."

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Even Alec, as unaware as he could be, couldn't deny the tension that lingered in the air. It was always there in the background with Leo, like a low humming. The kind of thing that made his ears ring in the absence of the sound, a too-awareness of all of the things they tiptoed around.

Leo started hacking, Mitzie darting off as they carried on, and Alec could only laugh at them as they struggled to breathe. That sounded bad, but Alec totally would have jumped in if he was, like, dying. But he clearly wasn't dying. "Not good at swallowing?" he asked, one side of his mouth rising in a smirk. The humming grew infinitesimally louder.

It was Alec's turn to choke a little at Leo's brash words— or, well, he supposed at Clem's words spoken through Leo. He had to remind himself to get her back for that, because what was she doing? Damn meddling kids and their stupid dog. She was asking if we've been fucking— Alec was picturing it now. And it would be a lie to say he'd never imagined it before. Leo was a lot like him, free with his body and affection. Which made him wonder why they never had. And then he'd stop the thought before it could gain traction because he could very clearly see the flashing warning sign that said do not enter. They had a good thing, Alec and Leo. He didn't want to ruin it.

And for some reason, he knew it would.

His eyes lingered a moment too long on Leo, blinking once he realized he'd been doing it. So he shot for casual and landed somewhere around too casual to be casual. "That's fucking weird. What'd you tell her? That we get it on like rabbits?"

Innocent as they were, Alec’s words gave Leo pause. Context was important, and there was no note of anything intimate, not even a trace of yearning, but the content was enough to cause a brain altering freeze frame. Good boy. It’d been enough to make them halt in the middle of reaching for their can of now warm, shitty beer, switch turned off and waiting for the hydraulics to power up again after a factory reset. They hadn’t even noticed they’d been holding their breath for a comically long span of time, only realising once his chest ached and he had to gulp in a gasp - which led to him choking on nothing but air and his own saliva, pounding on his chest to dislodge absolutely nothing. “Shit,” They wheezed, finally forcing down a mouthful of beer, “Jesus. Man down.” 

Leo tried to watch on Alec’s face if he would give anything away at the mention of Clem - who, if she were here, would have openly scream-laughed in Leo’s face by now as she watched him sputter. It wasn’t something that they did, not often at least, so out of character for him that he felt extremely on display. He shouldn’t have mentioned her at all, because now he had to either fess up to Clementine questioning their sexual relationship, or make up something on the spot. Leo was good at thinking on his feet, but he was far from brilliant, and his brain didn’t work amazingly at the best of times. This felt like a total set up, and he had no one to blame but himself.

There was maybe a tinge of disappointment on Leo’s face that he covered up quickly - it wasn’t planned, but baiting Alec into admitting to something only to be met with a vast emptiness made him scramble. “No, nothing. I mean, nothing important. You know Clem.” Shrugging, Leo shuffled so that they could pull their pack of smokes out of their pocket. Attempt to do something with their hands so that they didn’t feel so useless, hopefully cover up that he felt as if he’d missed the last step when heading down a flight of stairs. “She was asking if we’ve been fucking. Like I don’t have any decorum or something - just outright demanded to know. Thought maybe you said something, but I guess she’s just being a nosey pervert. What else is new?”

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"Preferably not the ninth circle of my asshole, Shams!" Alec complained, though it was all lighthearted. Alec had forced himself into far worse situations and frankly, he enjoyed the attention he was getting too much to truly complain about it.

Alec's eyes narrowed in on Shambles as she messed with the veil on his head, trusting her to polish him up just right. "I'm going to ignore the fact that you just insinuated that I'm not always hot." But a smirk spread over his face anyway, resisting the urge to look around and meet the eyes he could feel on his back. "Think I should make my cheeks clap and really give them something to look at?"

WHERE: the halloween rave. WHO: @xxshambles & alec.

"This underwear is riding up my ass crack," Alec complained, clomping through the crowd in the heeled boots he'd been stupid enough to agree to despite having no idea how to actually walk in them. "And my cheeks are not used to this much air. Why is being sexy so hard?"

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Alec scoffed. "Yeah, all of those words sound rock and roll as fuck, bro." If his sarcasm wasn't clear, the roll of his eyes would have made it so. Frankly, Alec was inclined to believe the rest of the words he'd just listed were also made up. He'd certainly never heard them before. Except memorial. And editorial. And some version of the word accuse. Okay, so maybe he mostly knew them. The point still stood that they were incredibly unsexy.

His nose wrinkled as he imagined a life working a government job, rubbing shoulders with policy makers who gave fuck all about the people that put them in power. "What even made you wanna work a job like that anyway? You tryin' to be president one day or something?"

"it's easy to find words that rhyme with gubernatorial—in memorial, an editorial, or accusatorial... that last one is especially pertinent to how you're acting right now, implying that i made up a word. you should have more faith in an old friend," graham shook his finger at alec like an old man telling a rambunctious youth to get off his lawn. "being on the inside has really shown me what a shitshow it is. i'm surprised it hasn't all been taken down from the inside already. did you know that city hall still keeps most of their records on paper?! in the twenty-first century, some of our government officials still haven't figured out how to use a word document or an excel spreadsheet."

[alecflynnarchive]

It sounded a whole lot like Damian was dancing around a bunch of bullshit and tossing a lot of unnecessary words into the equation to make it seem like he was actually saying something. But Alec was a master of bullshit, an art long since perfected, and he'd used the same trick a million times. So, at some point, he simply blocked out the words and just watched Damian's face instead.

Had he been more emotionally intelligent (or emotionally intelligent at all) he might have had more pieces to put together, a conclusion to draw that wasn't self-centered. It was one thing, really, that stuck out to him.

Eyebrows drew together in confusion, Alec's head canting to one side not unlike a puppy who didn't quite understand its command. "Who the fuck is Jason?" He spat the name with vitriol, immediately latching onto a person he could blame, someone else who could shoulder the responsibility for this disconnect between Alec and a friend he felt suddenly so far removed from. Who gave a single fuck about Jason's business trips? What did that have to do with Damian? What did that have to do with D&D? Why was this Jason so much more important than the other important things in Damian's life? Wasn't there enough room for a little bit of everything?

Hands on his hips, Alec squinted at Damian as if he might be able to draw the truth out of him by willpower alone. His eyes ping-ponged between his friend's, rounding in a silent plea. "Is that really what you want?"

The weight of his lucky lighter feels like it’s burning a hole through his pocket. Damian’s fingers twitch, tempted to reach for it, to feel the familiar shape in his palm, something to ground him in this moment. But Alec’s standing in front of him, blocking his way out, eyes wide with confusion and something else — something that makes Damian feel like he’s suffocating under the weight of a lie he’s not ready to untangle. 

He could tell him. The truth is right there, lodged in his throat, and all he has to do is let it out. But Jason’s shadow looms too large over every thought, every action, and the consequences are far too real. So he forces a smile instead, tight and strained, like it’s taking all his energy just to hold it in place.

“I know, I know,” he mutters, voice rougher than intended. He clears his throat again, trying to buy himself a second. “I do love it, man, but—” He pauses, feeling the tension building between his shoulder blades, making it hard to stand still. “Work’s been crazy. Life’s been—” He stops himself before the words a nightmare slip out, replacing them instead with: “Busy. Jason’s got these business trips coming up, and I might tag along.” The lie comes easily, too easily. “It’s just a lot right now, and D&D’s one more thing on the pile.”

Damian meets Alec’s gaze again, sees the disbelief still lingering there, and feels another pang of guilt. But he pushes through it, the smile faltering but still in place. “You don’t need me. Anyone can play a rogue, right? You’ll find someone else who can jump in. I promise, it’ll be fine.” But it doesn’t feel fine. His chest is tight, the knot of anxiety tangling itself deeper. He wants to reach out, to grab Alec’s shoulder, tell him the truth — but he can’t. So he shifts his weight instead, glancing past Alec again, as if looking for a way out, for an escape from this conversation that feels like it’s closing in on him. “You’ll be okay,” he says softly, almost more to himself than to Alec.