FIC: Our Last Memory 12/23
Shatterstar was not happy.
Loud, obnoxious songs about girls wanting people booming in their room roared through his ears, bodies crashed into him from all directions, and Rictor had slipped away. Another man had just come and taken him, and now they were dancing a few feet away without him.
“Hey! You spilled my-we dance! Now!”
“But I don’t…”
Now - or I eat you alive right here in front of everyone!”
“Go for it, dude! Andale ahora!”
Shatterstar clutched at his head, and scowled at the sight of his friend. He was rocking his hips against the lap of another man much taller than he. Hands were placed firmly on the sides of Rictor’s butt, and another man soon slid his way up against the Mexican’s back. The three moved to the rhythm of the poppy beat, and it made Shatterstar’s insides twist up strangely. He felt anger and envy at the sight of it and he frowned painfully, unsure why he would feel such a way.
It did not get much better when the man against Rictor’s back slid his fingers along the hem of his shirt. Julio leaned back against him and arched his back, allowing the hand to reach up underneath the fabric to take long, drawn out caresses along his chest, belly, and nipples. The other man at his front worked on stealing Rictor’s shirt right off of his body, and Shatterstar clenched his fists.
“Yup…‘dorable stomach like a rock…hard enough to eat right off of…”
He winced again at the sudden sharp pang in his head, and turned away from his friend. Bodies were jumping around and moving, even in the silence between the end of the song and the start of the next. The smell of alcohol and body fluids invaded his nostrils, and the laser lights burned at sensitive eyes as they changed up for the next song. Heavy bass rocked the entire building as a new tune kicked in, one he saw on television with Theresa: something by The Prodigy, if he remembered correctly.
“Shatterstar! Shatterstar! Shatterstar!”
“Get on your feet boys and girls! The champion is entering the arena! Place your bets to see if today is the day we finally see him defeated!”
“Shatterstar! Shatterstar! Shatterstar!”
“He’ll be facing the almighty Supernova!”
Another body slammed into him as he stumbled a step back, and he spun around to face a toned, blonde man. Glossy blue eyes roamed over Shatterstar’s body, and the man gave him a seductive grin. 'Star felt an array of nerves go to war in his chest, and memories of angry touches flashed in his mind as he miserably remembered his time with Adam. This man was not as enraged as he, and did not appear to be looking to engage in violent sexual activity. Like Rictor had, he just grabbed his hand and began to dance against him. Startled, Shatterstar looked around for the Mexican, and was dismayed to see him staring right back.
Still moving with the music as one dark haired man laid kisses along his chest. The second dance partner had one hand clutched around the cheek of his ass, and another in his hair as he pulled Ric’s head back toward him for a kiss on the mouth. Julio did not appear to be touching back, but he was not pulling away either.
Was he even gay?! Shatterstar had no idea what was going on.
The lights flashed on and off, going along with the angry beat of the music. A huge flip from the last track that had been playing, and that changed just as quickly as his mood did.
The audience roared as he dove through the air, just narrowly missing a staged landmine. His opponent came trudging through the mud of the floor on the opposite side, and the second Shatterstar saw him coming he whipped his sword off of his back. Gleam of the blade shining violently against the laser spotlights illuminating the arena floor. His opponent stopped running, already out of breath and looking totally frightened. As soon as his black eyes caught sight of Shatterstar, he screamed and held his hands in the air.
“No! Please!”
“Coward! Do not beg for your life!” Shatterstar shouted in response, twisting through the air and landing soundly on the balls of his feet. “You shall be cancelled for even suggesting such a thing!”
“Cancel him! Cancel him! Cancel him!”
“Please!” he begged once more, holding up his webbed fingers in defeat.
Shatterstar shook his head in disgust and promptly removed the man’s head from his shoulders. Showered in scarlet blood, the warrior dropped to his knees with the victory. The decapitated head stared back up at him accusingly, and he had to push it away with the end of his sword.
“Shatterstar! Shatterstar! Shatterstar!
“What’s your name?” the blonde breathed in his ear. Hands roamed Shatterstar’s chest and belly as the man continued to move against him. One glance back up saw Rictor staring at him, something flashing in his eyes that ‘Star could not decipher. Hurt and anger swelled up in his chest once more, and he looked back down at the blonde. He had not even waited for an answer to his question; instead he had dug his head into the crook of Shatty’s neck to press his lips against the hot flesh there.
His heart rate sped up, nervous and frightened at the touch and the feelings it was giving him.
“Hmmm, you’ve done this before, chayeh? I did not think you had it, hmmm, in you…”
“You look absolutely adorable doin’ that, boyo…thirsty now?”
Shatterstar lifted his hands hesitantly and placed them on the blonde’s hips as he moved. Fingers were visibly shaking, but the other man paid no attention. Instead, he dug his face further into Shatterstar’s neck and snuck his tongue out to taste him. The warrior jumped at the touch and frowned. Where was Rictor?
The Mexican caught his eye once more, and Ric had almost stopped dancing completely. The other men were still feeling and touching, but his gaze was locked straight onto the body latched on Shatty. A look so heated and angry that Shatterstar almost felt it on him crawling like bugs. But still, his friend did not stop the activities around him.
Not as the bodies kept hitting Shatterstar from all around, not as the buttons on his shirt began opening, and not as the blonde pressed his mouth against his. Silver eyes remained locked on the Mexican, and ‘Star had to remind himself it was not battle. It was not a fight, and this was supposed to be normal. His chest was supposed to constrict nervously, his face was supposed to flush, and that strange and embarrassing feel of his cock getting hard was supposed to happen. It was normal, Rictor had said, to feel turned on and comfortable with this.
But he was not comfortable. At all.
He was not comfortable watching his friend get felt up and kissed and licked. He was not comfortable with this man kissing him, and he did not like being so aware of so many bodies surrounding him in a confined space with only three exits in close proximity.
"You have the face of a nightmare, biped!” a slobbering jaw snapped open and shut in the warrior’s face. Shatterstar was pinned on his back, fighting with every once of strength he had left. One side of his face had been burned and charred from a stray flare, and he could feel part of his small intestine bubbling out against his belly; evisceration from the clawed hands of the beast straddling him. There was not much gas left in his tank. Looking up once more, the monster laughed in his face. “Today is the day you die, half breed!”
“Cool. You got an accent. Where you from?”
“Monstrosity! You’re a beast who tarnishes the reputation of all gladiators of the Vid! We assure you, gene-freak, you will be the first put to death in the gauntlet. Your head is ours!”
“I like watchin’ you sweat, Shattybuns.”
Shatterstar’s eyes widened as the man kept pressing closer to him, and eventually he slid his fingers along the waist band of the warrior’s pants. A strange feeling overcame him, and he could not help but seek out Julio once more. Why was he not stopping this? Ric only stared as the blonde pressed close enough to hide anything going on between their bodies; to sneakily thrust a warm hand down the front of 'Star's slacks. Eyes wide, jaw dropped, and he stared at Rictor as a curious hand gripped him.
Please.
The Mexican stopped too, standing completely still and sizing Shatterstar up obviously waiting for his next move. The two men Julio had been dancing with noticed his lack of attention and eventually slid away with each other, leaving Ric shirtless, breathless, hickied, and unkempt.
“You seek solace in the Cadre rebellion, beast? You are Mojo’s top property - you have more kills than any other gladiator in history - why should we take you? You’re a killer!”
“I never took you for a cocksucker.”
“As long as you live, biped, you will always belong to me.”
“Te quiero. You know I do more than anything. Siempre.”
“Okay, that’s cool. We’ll work it out together. I mean, that’s all social stuff, right?”
“Murderer!”
Shatterstar winced at the stabbing pulse in his head, and nearly doubled over when he was hit with a wave of uncontrolled pleasure. Blonde boy had been fondling him under his clothes, and he finally released. So dirty. The lights kept flashing, burning and heating the area. Bass pumped violently in synch with the roaring pulse of his blood, and two brown eyes burned a hole in him.
In a fit of rage, Shatterstar pushed the blonde man away from him and stormed off. He had done this on purpose; Rictor, that fool. He had dragged him out to some filthy place, only to drop him off. To make him feel angry and envious -- for whatever reason that was -- and stopped to watch him get ravaged by a stranger with such disgust and rage in his own eyes.
He left him there, open for ridicule and humiliation.
He had definitely succeeded in that task.
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When Longshot had finally rid himself of the pushy waitress, he quickly made his way outside with Ali’s leather jacket. The petite teenager inside had been infuriated that he had gone and made a mess with the karaoke machine. It was for good reason, he supposed; a promise had been made to have it cleaned up when he was done, but instead he had run out like a hormonal teenager. Chuckling at the memory, he bid the waitress one last wave good-bye before letting the glass door close behind him. The night seemed like it had gotten chillier since he had been out last, so he hurried to meet up with Alison.
But when he got to where he left her, she was no where to be seen.
A cold feeling came over him then, and he frowned. “Ali?”
The streets were completely empty; not even the usual bustle of street traffic provided noise. Street lights flickered on and off. The wind picked up and pushed garbage and newspaper down the sidewalk. Longshot stood alone, feeling fear push the hair on the back of his neck straight up. Something was wrong; he could just feel it.
Fisting the jacket tighter in his grasp, he readied himself for a fight if need be. There was no way he would be willing to give up Alison so soon after getting her back, and he would fight to a bloody death if need be. He had weapons hidden on him in his boots and in his pants, and he was unafraid to use them, especially if it was for her.
He inched his body around the corner and peered down the alley between the diner and the neighbouring beauty salon. It was dark and dank and lined only with a few dumpsters, a fire escape ladder, and some trash cans. But amongst the darkness, one leather boot stuck out of an area between the dumpsters. Despite a cold fear taking over his entire body, the Cadre leader ran toward it.
“Alison!?”
It was her. She sat with one knee folded up to her chest, both arms hugging it, and her face frozen with fear. Full pink lips were parted in horrified shock, and the usual beautiful shine of blue eyes was pale and flat. Longshot whimpered and fell to his knees. “Ali? Alison!” he grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Ali!”
The second his hands made contact with her body, she moved her head to look at him. Eyebrows pinched inward, eyes narrowed, and a twisted scowl formed on her face. Longshot shook his head confusedly, and did not notice the fact that her hands were glowing bright until it was much too late.
“You stay the hell away from me!” she screamed. Blasts of pink and orange shot the Mojoworlder straight in the face, and he toppled backwards.
“Ah! Alison! What’s going on?!”
“You…y-you,” her voice wavered, so she wound back and blasted him in the face again. That time it was so bright and strong that Longshot could no longer see anything in front of him. Coloured spots floated behind his eyelids, and he covered his face with his hands and groaned as he rolled on to his side. Alison shuffled, and the Mojoworlder could hear her get to her feet and stumble back. Maybe she was even crying too, he was not sure, but it sounded like it. “How could you? You lied to me! You…fucking lied to me!”
“What are you talking about?!” he demanded, rubbing violently at his eyes to get his vision back. “I would never lie to you!”
She let out a gasp then, and took a few more steps back away from him. “She took it away and she l-lied and she kept it…oh m-my god…she kept him and she hurt him! And y-you just…y-you…”
“Alison!” he yelled at her, and attempted to get to his feet. However, he was just promptly thrown backwards again, that time hitting his back and head off of a wall. He groaned and flopped over, trying to gather his bearings. “Will you stop doing that!?”
“You’re a monster!” she yelled. “I can’t believe y-you…” she stopped there and did not say another word. Advanced hearing allowed him to listen to her take off in a run down the alley, leaving him alone and blinded. He cursed, and wondered just what the heck had happened. One moment she was practically clawing at his clothes, and the next she was completely terrified of him.
Blinking rapidly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the comm device that Jamie had given him earlier in the week. Three fingers traced around it, pushing buttons until he heard a response.
“This is Madrox.”
Longshot groaned, and rubbed at his face again. “We have a problem, Jamie…”
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The room lightened up when the song changed; pinks and green flashing rhythmically along to the smooth beat of White Town’s ‘Your Woman’. The new illumination allowed Rictor to finally see where Shatterstar had run off to, and he pushed through a swarm of bodies to go after him. Madre de Dios, he was so stupid; he should have known it would have been a horrible idea to do this whole ridiculous thing.
On one hand, Shatterstar had barely moved at all the whole time they were there, and he had not even attempted to run for quite some time - which was better than the last time they had shown up at a similar club. On the other hand though, Rictor was absolutely stunned at what he had just seen. Shatterstar had let that guy practically climb all over him. Sure, he did not exactly dance back, but touching had gone on and Rictor had not at all expected that.
It only figured that it had come back and blown up in his face again.
Whatever it was that sent Shatty running though, Rictor just knew it pissed him off. Uncertain of the reasons though, he had a feeling that it was a little risky following him. But 'Star could not be left to deal with it on his own; Ric had stuck him in the situation, and it was only fair that he helped him out of it.
Did he seriously just watch him get jerked off though!?
Frowning angrily, the Mexican stormed toward the bathroom where he noticed random groups of guys fleeing out. They looked a little frightened and pissed off, so he figured Shatterstar was the cause. Sighing, he pushed through the few bodies running toward him, and he stepped inside the small room. And sure enough a mirror had been busted, a garbage can kicked over, and a very pissed off looking alien sat on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest. His shirt was still wide open, and his pants hung open to reveal a pair of crooked black briefs. Since when did Shatterstar wear underwear anyway? Ric shook his head and stepped in front of him, placing his hands on his hips.
“There a reason you’re beating up the bathroom, amigo?”
“I do not want to stay here. I want to leave. Now, Julio.”
Rictor frowned, guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know--”
“Yes, I think you did,” Shatty spat and glared up at him. “I felt absolutely no sense of comfort in this place, nor can I even recall ever being in a place such as this. I would not have liked it. It’s just like-- like the arenas…”
“Dios, ‘Star,” Ric ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair, and plopped down on the floor in front of him. “I’m so sorry, okay? All I wanted to do was help.”
“By doing what?” he muttered. “Bringing me here with all these over sexualized humans? By leaving me alone so you could do your picking up on others? You did not even tell me you liked men!”
Ric’s mouth dried out and he swallowed. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
The warrior dropped his head into his hands. “Za’s Vid...I-- fekt!”
Hesitantly, Rictor raised his hand and placed it on ‘Star’s arm, lightly caressing the flesh there with his thumb. “Did you-- was there something you needed to talk about? You remember anything?” his heart jumped around in his chest like a jackhammer was assaulting it as he waited for the answer. “Anything at all?”
“Voices,” the Mojoworlder muttered when he looked up at him, gazing with the saddest eyes Ric had ever seen on him. “So many voices saying so many different things, Julio, that I could not really differentiate them. Different languages, accents, genders, situations…it was too much to bear.”
The Mexican frowned and dropped his gaze to the floor to hide his disappointment. “Nothing stuck out? At…all?”
“Too much,” he let out a shaky breath, and clutched his temples. “I don’t know what it all means! And what happened out there--”
Ric swallowed, and slid his hand up Shatty’s forearm and to his hand. “Tell me.”
“I don’t recall feeling that way-I,” he averted his eyes, and leaned his head back against the cool tile of the wall. “With Adam I recalled visuals - images of a memory. But I did not regain the full context of it, the emotion and the feeling…it came back tonight. I’m so confused. I do not understand how or why I participated in these actions before! As it all unravels, I only learn that I was a warrior of the most dishonourable nature!” his face contorted painfully, and Ric held his hand in both of his between their bodies. “A sexual being - with distractions, emotions, and motives - and a murderer. A cold blooded killer who took lives without cause. I am faulty, weak, and I am a coward.”
“No!” Rictor scolded him, and moved so he was kneeling between the warrior’s knees. Shatterstar looked away, but Ric instantly grabbed his face and forced him to look. “Don’t you say that about yourself, cabron! You’re more than that shit, and you knew that! The old you knew that, ‘Star! The old you was the strongest, most focused, and amazing person I knew!”
“I am not the old me,” he muttered, staring Rictor coldly in the eye. “And I never will be.”
Rictor winced and frowned at the sting of the comment. “That’s bullshit…” he whispered.
“It’s not,” the Mojoworlder shook his head. “You can’t keep wishing for something to come back that is gone.”
“It’s not-you’re not gone. I know you’re in there…I saw it! Tonight! That look in your eyes!”
“What look?” he asked in exasperation, pulling his chin from Julio’s hand.
“When I was dancing,” Ric pushed, just trying so desperately to evoke another emotional response out of him. “When those guys were touching me, when they took me away from you…I saw it! That look in your eyes. It was there.”
Shatterstar frowned miserably, and glared at the ground. Rictor could tell just by the look on his face and the way he was clenching his fists at his sides that something was on his mind. Shatty was fighting hard to piece it all together - to figure out what exactly it was that Ric was telling him. His words stung, so he pressed on.
“You didn’t like the way they did that, did you?”
“Julio…”
“‘Star, please,” Rictor begged, leaning in closer to him. “Please tell me you figured it out.” Silver eyes flickered back up at him, still as lost and torn as they had been from the start. Desperately, Ric placed both hands on either side of the warrior’s neck, and he stared into his eyes. “Please?”
Shatterstar’s breathing picked up at their close proximity, and Julio had to fight every urge his body had to close the four inch gap between them. To just kiss him and force him to fucking remember. Every extreme emotion and hot fuck and wonderful kiss and amazing moment they had spent together. He fought it, Dios, but he wanted to do it so badly.
“I--” Shatty started, but was cut off by Rictor’s cell phone ringing. The Mexican cursed and dropped his head down to ‘Star’s shoulder. The warrior was still tense beneath him, so he finally let him go and slid back about a foot on the floor.
“What!?” Rictor snapped angrily when he opened the phone.
“I know you’re out right now, man, but something came up and I really need you and Shatterstar to meet up with the team,” it was Jamie and he was speaking hurriedly.
“What happened?” the Mexican demanded.
“I don’t know exactly, but I think Dazzler might've gone postal on Longshot. She kicked his ass and then took off; she was mumbling something about ‘losing him’ …if you know what I mean. I think you guys should just get back here.”
“Fuck,” Rictor cursed angrily and snapped his phone shut.
“What happened?” Shatterstar asked lowly.
“We have to go.”
“But what about…” he trailed off, looking a little sheepish and unsure. “Do you--”
“Forget it,” Rictor snapped and got to his feet. He was not in the mood for being swept under the carpet anymore. The night had already been enough of a disaster, and now this shit. “Let’s just go. You can drive, I don’t give a fuck.”
“I’m sorry,” Shatterstar murmured from behind him. Rictor spun around to face him, and another tidal wave of guilt hit him when he saw how fucking sad he looked. “Whatever it is that I forgot…I’m sorry.”
Rictor felt his chest tighten up and he turned back to the door miserably. “Don’t forget to do your pants up.”
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Go to chapter thirteen.
Loud, obnoxious songs about girls wanting people booming in their room roared through his ears, bodies crashed into him from all directions, and Rictor had slipped away. Another man had just come and taken him, and now they were dancing a few feet away without him.
“Hey! You spilled my-we dance! Now!”
“But I don’t…”
Now - or I eat you alive right here in front of everyone!”
“Go for it, dude! Andale ahora!”
Shatterstar clutched at his head, and scowled at the sight of his friend. He was rocking his hips against the lap of another man much taller than he. Hands were placed firmly on the sides of Rictor’s butt, and another man soon slid his way up against the Mexican’s back. The three moved to the rhythm of the poppy beat, and it made Shatterstar’s insides twist up strangely. He felt anger and envy at the sight of it and he frowned painfully, unsure why he would feel such a way.
It did not get much better when the man against Rictor’s back slid his fingers along the hem of his shirt. Julio leaned back against him and arched his back, allowing the hand to reach up underneath the fabric to take long, drawn out caresses along his chest, belly, and nipples. The other man at his front worked on stealing Rictor’s shirt right off of his body, and Shatterstar clenched his fists.
“Yup…‘dorable stomach like a rock…hard enough to eat right off of…”
He winced again at the sudden sharp pang in his head, and turned away from his friend. Bodies were jumping around and moving, even in the silence between the end of the song and the start of the next. The smell of alcohol and body fluids invaded his nostrils, and the laser lights burned at sensitive eyes as they changed up for the next song. Heavy bass rocked the entire building as a new tune kicked in, one he saw on television with Theresa: something by The Prodigy, if he remembered correctly.
“Shatterstar! Shatterstar! Shatterstar!”
“Get on your feet boys and girls! The champion is entering the arena! Place your bets to see if today is the day we finally see him defeated!”
“Shatterstar! Shatterstar! Shatterstar!”
“He’ll be facing the almighty Supernova!”
Another body slammed into him as he stumbled a step back, and he spun around to face a toned, blonde man. Glossy blue eyes roamed over Shatterstar’s body, and the man gave him a seductive grin. 'Star felt an array of nerves go to war in his chest, and memories of angry touches flashed in his mind as he miserably remembered his time with Adam. This man was not as enraged as he, and did not appear to be looking to engage in violent sexual activity. Like Rictor had, he just grabbed his hand and began to dance against him. Startled, Shatterstar looked around for the Mexican, and was dismayed to see him staring right back.
Still moving with the music as one dark haired man laid kisses along his chest. The second dance partner had one hand clutched around the cheek of his ass, and another in his hair as he pulled Ric’s head back toward him for a kiss on the mouth. Julio did not appear to be touching back, but he was not pulling away either.
Was he even gay?! Shatterstar had no idea what was going on.
The lights flashed on and off, going along with the angry beat of the music. A huge flip from the last track that had been playing, and that changed just as quickly as his mood did.
The audience roared as he dove through the air, just narrowly missing a staged landmine. His opponent came trudging through the mud of the floor on the opposite side, and the second Shatterstar saw him coming he whipped his sword off of his back. Gleam of the blade shining violently against the laser spotlights illuminating the arena floor. His opponent stopped running, already out of breath and looking totally frightened. As soon as his black eyes caught sight of Shatterstar, he screamed and held his hands in the air.
“No! Please!”
“Coward! Do not beg for your life!” Shatterstar shouted in response, twisting through the air and landing soundly on the balls of his feet. “You shall be cancelled for even suggesting such a thing!”
“Cancel him! Cancel him! Cancel him!”
“Please!” he begged once more, holding up his webbed fingers in defeat.
Shatterstar shook his head in disgust and promptly removed the man’s head from his shoulders. Showered in scarlet blood, the warrior dropped to his knees with the victory. The decapitated head stared back up at him accusingly, and he had to push it away with the end of his sword.
“Shatterstar! Shatterstar! Shatterstar!
“What’s your name?” the blonde breathed in his ear. Hands roamed Shatterstar’s chest and belly as the man continued to move against him. One glance back up saw Rictor staring at him, something flashing in his eyes that ‘Star could not decipher. Hurt and anger swelled up in his chest once more, and he looked back down at the blonde. He had not even waited for an answer to his question; instead he had dug his head into the crook of Shatty’s neck to press his lips against the hot flesh there.
His heart rate sped up, nervous and frightened at the touch and the feelings it was giving him.
“Hmmm, you’ve done this before, chayeh? I did not think you had it, hmmm, in you…”
“You look absolutely adorable doin’ that, boyo…thirsty now?”
Shatterstar lifted his hands hesitantly and placed them on the blonde’s hips as he moved. Fingers were visibly shaking, but the other man paid no attention. Instead, he dug his face further into Shatterstar’s neck and snuck his tongue out to taste him. The warrior jumped at the touch and frowned. Where was Rictor?
The Mexican caught his eye once more, and Ric had almost stopped dancing completely. The other men were still feeling and touching, but his gaze was locked straight onto the body latched on Shatty. A look so heated and angry that Shatterstar almost felt it on him crawling like bugs. But still, his friend did not stop the activities around him.
Not as the bodies kept hitting Shatterstar from all around, not as the buttons on his shirt began opening, and not as the blonde pressed his mouth against his. Silver eyes remained locked on the Mexican, and ‘Star had to remind himself it was not battle. It was not a fight, and this was supposed to be normal. His chest was supposed to constrict nervously, his face was supposed to flush, and that strange and embarrassing feel of his cock getting hard was supposed to happen. It was normal, Rictor had said, to feel turned on and comfortable with this.
But he was not comfortable. At all.
He was not comfortable watching his friend get felt up and kissed and licked. He was not comfortable with this man kissing him, and he did not like being so aware of so many bodies surrounding him in a confined space with only three exits in close proximity.
"You have the face of a nightmare, biped!” a slobbering jaw snapped open and shut in the warrior’s face. Shatterstar was pinned on his back, fighting with every once of strength he had left. One side of his face had been burned and charred from a stray flare, and he could feel part of his small intestine bubbling out against his belly; evisceration from the clawed hands of the beast straddling him. There was not much gas left in his tank. Looking up once more, the monster laughed in his face. “Today is the day you die, half breed!”
“Cool. You got an accent. Where you from?”
“Monstrosity! You’re a beast who tarnishes the reputation of all gladiators of the Vid! We assure you, gene-freak, you will be the first put to death in the gauntlet. Your head is ours!”
“I like watchin’ you sweat, Shattybuns.”
Shatterstar’s eyes widened as the man kept pressing closer to him, and eventually he slid his fingers along the waist band of the warrior’s pants. A strange feeling overcame him, and he could not help but seek out Julio once more. Why was he not stopping this? Ric only stared as the blonde pressed close enough to hide anything going on between their bodies; to sneakily thrust a warm hand down the front of 'Star's slacks. Eyes wide, jaw dropped, and he stared at Rictor as a curious hand gripped him.
Please.
The Mexican stopped too, standing completely still and sizing Shatterstar up obviously waiting for his next move. The two men Julio had been dancing with noticed his lack of attention and eventually slid away with each other, leaving Ric shirtless, breathless, hickied, and unkempt.
“You seek solace in the Cadre rebellion, beast? You are Mojo’s top property - you have more kills than any other gladiator in history - why should we take you? You’re a killer!”
“I never took you for a cocksucker.”
“As long as you live, biped, you will always belong to me.”
“Te quiero. You know I do more than anything. Siempre.”
“Okay, that’s cool. We’ll work it out together. I mean, that’s all social stuff, right?”
“Murderer!”
Shatterstar winced at the stabbing pulse in his head, and nearly doubled over when he was hit with a wave of uncontrolled pleasure. Blonde boy had been fondling him under his clothes, and he finally released. So dirty. The lights kept flashing, burning and heating the area. Bass pumped violently in synch with the roaring pulse of his blood, and two brown eyes burned a hole in him.
In a fit of rage, Shatterstar pushed the blonde man away from him and stormed off. He had done this on purpose; Rictor, that fool. He had dragged him out to some filthy place, only to drop him off. To make him feel angry and envious -- for whatever reason that was -- and stopped to watch him get ravaged by a stranger with such disgust and rage in his own eyes.
He left him there, open for ridicule and humiliation.
He had definitely succeeded in that task.
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When Longshot had finally rid himself of the pushy waitress, he quickly made his way outside with Ali’s leather jacket. The petite teenager inside had been infuriated that he had gone and made a mess with the karaoke machine. It was for good reason, he supposed; a promise had been made to have it cleaned up when he was done, but instead he had run out like a hormonal teenager. Chuckling at the memory, he bid the waitress one last wave good-bye before letting the glass door close behind him. The night seemed like it had gotten chillier since he had been out last, so he hurried to meet up with Alison.
But when he got to where he left her, she was no where to be seen.
A cold feeling came over him then, and he frowned. “Ali?”
The streets were completely empty; not even the usual bustle of street traffic provided noise. Street lights flickered on and off. The wind picked up and pushed garbage and newspaper down the sidewalk. Longshot stood alone, feeling fear push the hair on the back of his neck straight up. Something was wrong; he could just feel it.
Fisting the jacket tighter in his grasp, he readied himself for a fight if need be. There was no way he would be willing to give up Alison so soon after getting her back, and he would fight to a bloody death if need be. He had weapons hidden on him in his boots and in his pants, and he was unafraid to use them, especially if it was for her.
He inched his body around the corner and peered down the alley between the diner and the neighbouring beauty salon. It was dark and dank and lined only with a few dumpsters, a fire escape ladder, and some trash cans. But amongst the darkness, one leather boot stuck out of an area between the dumpsters. Despite a cold fear taking over his entire body, the Cadre leader ran toward it.
“Alison!?”
It was her. She sat with one knee folded up to her chest, both arms hugging it, and her face frozen with fear. Full pink lips were parted in horrified shock, and the usual beautiful shine of blue eyes was pale and flat. Longshot whimpered and fell to his knees. “Ali? Alison!” he grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Ali!”
The second his hands made contact with her body, she moved her head to look at him. Eyebrows pinched inward, eyes narrowed, and a twisted scowl formed on her face. Longshot shook his head confusedly, and did not notice the fact that her hands were glowing bright until it was much too late.
“You stay the hell away from me!” she screamed. Blasts of pink and orange shot the Mojoworlder straight in the face, and he toppled backwards.
“Ah! Alison! What’s going on?!”
“You…y-you,” her voice wavered, so she wound back and blasted him in the face again. That time it was so bright and strong that Longshot could no longer see anything in front of him. Coloured spots floated behind his eyelids, and he covered his face with his hands and groaned as he rolled on to his side. Alison shuffled, and the Mojoworlder could hear her get to her feet and stumble back. Maybe she was even crying too, he was not sure, but it sounded like it. “How could you? You lied to me! You…fucking lied to me!”
“What are you talking about?!” he demanded, rubbing violently at his eyes to get his vision back. “I would never lie to you!”
She let out a gasp then, and took a few more steps back away from him. “She took it away and she l-lied and she kept it…oh m-my god…she kept him and she hurt him! And y-you just…y-you…”
“Alison!” he yelled at her, and attempted to get to his feet. However, he was just promptly thrown backwards again, that time hitting his back and head off of a wall. He groaned and flopped over, trying to gather his bearings. “Will you stop doing that!?”
“You’re a monster!” she yelled. “I can’t believe y-you…” she stopped there and did not say another word. Advanced hearing allowed him to listen to her take off in a run down the alley, leaving him alone and blinded. He cursed, and wondered just what the heck had happened. One moment she was practically clawing at his clothes, and the next she was completely terrified of him.
Blinking rapidly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the comm device that Jamie had given him earlier in the week. Three fingers traced around it, pushing buttons until he heard a response.
“This is Madrox.”
Longshot groaned, and rubbed at his face again. “We have a problem, Jamie…”
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The room lightened up when the song changed; pinks and green flashing rhythmically along to the smooth beat of White Town’s ‘Your Woman’. The new illumination allowed Rictor to finally see where Shatterstar had run off to, and he pushed through a swarm of bodies to go after him. Madre de Dios, he was so stupid; he should have known it would have been a horrible idea to do this whole ridiculous thing.
On one hand, Shatterstar had barely moved at all the whole time they were there, and he had not even attempted to run for quite some time - which was better than the last time they had shown up at a similar club. On the other hand though, Rictor was absolutely stunned at what he had just seen. Shatterstar had let that guy practically climb all over him. Sure, he did not exactly dance back, but touching had gone on and Rictor had not at all expected that.
It only figured that it had come back and blown up in his face again.
Whatever it was that sent Shatty running though, Rictor just knew it pissed him off. Uncertain of the reasons though, he had a feeling that it was a little risky following him. But 'Star could not be left to deal with it on his own; Ric had stuck him in the situation, and it was only fair that he helped him out of it.
Did he seriously just watch him get jerked off though!?
Frowning angrily, the Mexican stormed toward the bathroom where he noticed random groups of guys fleeing out. They looked a little frightened and pissed off, so he figured Shatterstar was the cause. Sighing, he pushed through the few bodies running toward him, and he stepped inside the small room. And sure enough a mirror had been busted, a garbage can kicked over, and a very pissed off looking alien sat on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest. His shirt was still wide open, and his pants hung open to reveal a pair of crooked black briefs. Since when did Shatterstar wear underwear anyway? Ric shook his head and stepped in front of him, placing his hands on his hips.
“There a reason you’re beating up the bathroom, amigo?”
“I do not want to stay here. I want to leave. Now, Julio.”
Rictor frowned, guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know--”
“Yes, I think you did,” Shatty spat and glared up at him. “I felt absolutely no sense of comfort in this place, nor can I even recall ever being in a place such as this. I would not have liked it. It’s just like-- like the arenas…”
“Dios, ‘Star,” Ric ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair, and plopped down on the floor in front of him. “I’m so sorry, okay? All I wanted to do was help.”
“By doing what?” he muttered. “Bringing me here with all these over sexualized humans? By leaving me alone so you could do your picking up on others? You did not even tell me you liked men!”
Ric’s mouth dried out and he swallowed. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
The warrior dropped his head into his hands. “Za’s Vid...I-- fekt!”
Hesitantly, Rictor raised his hand and placed it on ‘Star’s arm, lightly caressing the flesh there with his thumb. “Did you-- was there something you needed to talk about? You remember anything?” his heart jumped around in his chest like a jackhammer was assaulting it as he waited for the answer. “Anything at all?”
“Voices,” the Mojoworlder muttered when he looked up at him, gazing with the saddest eyes Ric had ever seen on him. “So many voices saying so many different things, Julio, that I could not really differentiate them. Different languages, accents, genders, situations…it was too much to bear.”
The Mexican frowned and dropped his gaze to the floor to hide his disappointment. “Nothing stuck out? At…all?”
“Too much,” he let out a shaky breath, and clutched his temples. “I don’t know what it all means! And what happened out there--”
Ric swallowed, and slid his hand up Shatty’s forearm and to his hand. “Tell me.”
“I don’t recall feeling that way-I,” he averted his eyes, and leaned his head back against the cool tile of the wall. “With Adam I recalled visuals - images of a memory. But I did not regain the full context of it, the emotion and the feeling…it came back tonight. I’m so confused. I do not understand how or why I participated in these actions before! As it all unravels, I only learn that I was a warrior of the most dishonourable nature!” his face contorted painfully, and Ric held his hand in both of his between their bodies. “A sexual being - with distractions, emotions, and motives - and a murderer. A cold blooded killer who took lives without cause. I am faulty, weak, and I am a coward.”
“No!” Rictor scolded him, and moved so he was kneeling between the warrior’s knees. Shatterstar looked away, but Ric instantly grabbed his face and forced him to look. “Don’t you say that about yourself, cabron! You’re more than that shit, and you knew that! The old you knew that, ‘Star! The old you was the strongest, most focused, and amazing person I knew!”
“I am not the old me,” he muttered, staring Rictor coldly in the eye. “And I never will be.”
Rictor winced and frowned at the sting of the comment. “That’s bullshit…” he whispered.
“It’s not,” the Mojoworlder shook his head. “You can’t keep wishing for something to come back that is gone.”
“It’s not-you’re not gone. I know you’re in there…I saw it! Tonight! That look in your eyes!”
“What look?” he asked in exasperation, pulling his chin from Julio’s hand.
“When I was dancing,” Ric pushed, just trying so desperately to evoke another emotional response out of him. “When those guys were touching me, when they took me away from you…I saw it! That look in your eyes. It was there.”
Shatterstar frowned miserably, and glared at the ground. Rictor could tell just by the look on his face and the way he was clenching his fists at his sides that something was on his mind. Shatty was fighting hard to piece it all together - to figure out what exactly it was that Ric was telling him. His words stung, so he pressed on.
“You didn’t like the way they did that, did you?”
“Julio…”
“‘Star, please,” Rictor begged, leaning in closer to him. “Please tell me you figured it out.” Silver eyes flickered back up at him, still as lost and torn as they had been from the start. Desperately, Ric placed both hands on either side of the warrior’s neck, and he stared into his eyes. “Please?”
Shatterstar’s breathing picked up at their close proximity, and Julio had to fight every urge his body had to close the four inch gap between them. To just kiss him and force him to fucking remember. Every extreme emotion and hot fuck and wonderful kiss and amazing moment they had spent together. He fought it, Dios, but he wanted to do it so badly.
“I--” Shatty started, but was cut off by Rictor’s cell phone ringing. The Mexican cursed and dropped his head down to ‘Star’s shoulder. The warrior was still tense beneath him, so he finally let him go and slid back about a foot on the floor.
“What!?” Rictor snapped angrily when he opened the phone.
“I know you’re out right now, man, but something came up and I really need you and Shatterstar to meet up with the team,” it was Jamie and he was speaking hurriedly.
“What happened?” the Mexican demanded.
“I don’t know exactly, but I think Dazzler might've gone postal on Longshot. She kicked his ass and then took off; she was mumbling something about ‘losing him’ …if you know what I mean. I think you guys should just get back here.”
“Fuck,” Rictor cursed angrily and snapped his phone shut.
“What happened?” Shatterstar asked lowly.
“We have to go.”
“But what about…” he trailed off, looking a little sheepish and unsure. “Do you--”
“Forget it,” Rictor snapped and got to his feet. He was not in the mood for being swept under the carpet anymore. The night had already been enough of a disaster, and now this shit. “Let’s just go. You can drive, I don’t give a fuck.”
“I’m sorry,” Shatterstar murmured from behind him. Rictor spun around to face him, and another tidal wave of guilt hit him when he saw how fucking sad he looked. “Whatever it is that I forgot…I’m sorry.”
Rictor felt his chest tighten up and he turned back to the door miserably. “Don’t forget to do your pants up.”
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Go to chapter thirteen.