FIC: Our Last Memory 11/23
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Shit, he was nervous.
Which was strange considering he did not really have anything he needed to be nervous about per se, but he was. Rictor and Shatterstar had gone out together many times. Hell, they had lived together - alone and with friends. The guy had seen him naked more times than Ric could even count; they had seen each other at their best and worst and most exposed.
Yet here he was nervous about taking him out for just a night.
Of course, there was a bit of a risk taking Shatterstar out where he planned on taking him. However, the Mexican just had to hope that any sort of comfort and social adjustments made before the mind wipe would come in handy. The whole point of the outing was to try for some more memories to resurface, and Ric just had to wonder what - if any - would come about. Maybe it would be the night that Shatterstar would finally remember him. Dios, he just wanted his old friend back.
Which was why, he presumed, he found himself in front of the bathroom mirror nervous as shit and trying his best to look good. He had actually shaved his face, added a small amount of product in his hair to keep it decent looking, and put on cologne.
Madre de Dios, he felt like a pretty boy.
He frowned in the mirror once more before taking off out of the room and running down the hall to knock on a door. The very second the oak opened, he bolted inside and began to pace.
“Ric…what are ye doin’?”
“Do I look stupid?”
Theresa blinked and looked him up and down. “I think that’s the cleanest I’ve seen ye look in months. And ye actually smell good!”
Rictor stopped and blinked. “I usually smell bad?”
Her eyes widened. ‘Nae! I dinnae-- I-- that’s nae what I meant.”
The Mexican sulked and plopped down to her bed on his back. “Thanks a lot! I feel stupid enough as it is, and that didn’t help!”
"I just meant that ye smell really good,” she grinned with a laugh, before dropping down next to him. She leaned over and smelled the crook of his neck. “Hmmm, what is that?”
“I’m not telling,” he snapped and sat up. “But it isn’t gross? I never usually wear this stuff, you know, ‘cause it’s like, y'know, really preppy.”
“I don’t think it is,” she told him. “Believe me, it’s a turn on when a lad smells good. It shows ye actually care enough tah put some effort into yuir appearance.”
“And the rest of me?”
She looked him up and down again. “Once again, best I’ve seen ye look in months. But I’m gonna guess ye got that outfit from yuir old pile of stuff?”
His eyes widened. “I look out of date, don’t I!?”
“Nae,” she rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the wrist when he tried to jump back up again. “Ye just used to be very particular about yuir looks before. Ever since ye lost yuir powers it’s like ye just don’t care anymore. It’s nice tah see ye motivated again.” She smiled and fingered his shirt. “It’s like yuir the ole Ric again.”
He took a deep breath and looked down at himself. “I just feel weird.”
“Nervous? Self conscious?” a smile stretched across her face. “It’s normal tah feel that way before a date, ye know.”
“It’s not a date.”
She smirked. “All black, sleeveless top, good jeans, and boots? You even brushed your hair!” she reached out to tussle it, and he dodged out of the way with a scowl.
“You’re making me feel like a chick!” he shouted at her. “Do I look too…you know?”
She rolled her eyes again, for what seemed like the millionth time. “How the bloody hell do ye look gay, boyo!? Ye look fine, now stop actin’ like such a girl, and go!” she pushed him toward the door. “And what are ye so worried about? I thought ye were goin’ to a gay club?”
“Shut up!” he hissed. “I’ve never even been to one! I’m just going ‘cause ‘Star’s gay.”
Terry perked an eyebrow. “Ye can be so lame sometimes. But whatever, if that's yuir excuse fine. But ye and I both know ye’ll be the one doin’ all the--”
“Bye!” Rictor cut her off before she could tease him anymore. So much for talking to her; he should have figured she would be gushing like a moron. But at least she had said he did not look like an idiot, and that was important. Hopefully Shatterstar would feel the same way. Clearing his throat, he stepped out of Siryn’s room and walked a few doors down the hall to where Shatterstar was staying. Ric ran his fingers over his hair once more to make sure it was all in place before knocking. It only took a few seconds for Shatty to answer.
And when he did, Rictor’s breath hitched in his throat.
He forgot how damn good he looked when he dressed up. He wore an olive green button up shirt - with the top two undone - and a pair of neat black slacks. Copper locks flowed freely down his back; for the first time in a long while he chose to wear his hair down. The Mexican swallowed, and forced a smile on his face.
“Uh, you ready?”
The Mojoworlder frowned. “I’m unsure that I want to go.”
“Why? Come on! You have to!” Ric demanded. “I’m ready, you’re ready, and it’ll be fun! Besides, you haven’t even left the place since I took you shopping like four or five days ago!”
Shatterstar folded his arms. “And besides to ask me to leave with you tonight, you have not even spoken to me since I told you last night that I--”
Rictor winced, pushing the memory from his mind; he did not need to be thinking about Adam-X right then. “Look, don’t take it personally. I just-- I’m an asshole, okay? And…I’m sorry.”
“Were you mad because you are not accepting of that lifestyle?”
“What?!” brown eyes widened. “No! No, no, no! You got it all - look. I don’t think I can explain it to you, but when you get upset like that and start asking all those questions and freaking out…” he ran a hand over his hair, and cursed himself for messing it. “It’s just hard for me, okay? Please don’t think I’m mad at you ‘cause I’m not.”
Silver eyes narrowed, and Shatterstar’s frown deepened. “What is this place? I don’t think I would like it!”
Rictor smiled and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him out of the confines of the bedroom. “You’re not backing out, compinche. Try if you might, but I’ll bug you all damn night until you come. And you really don’t like it when I whine.”
“That much I know.”
“Very funny,” Rictor rolled his eyes. “Seriously though! It’ll be a good time! We can even take my motorcycle. It’s a sexy piece of work, too!”
“Can I drive it?” Shatterstar asked, for some reason letting Ric drag him down the stairs.
Rictor was pained at the question. “Uhm…”
“Please? I like motorcycles.”
“I know you do,” Ric scowled, thinking back to the many times Shatty decided to tinker with his and how many times he decided he wanted to jump over stuff with it. “Fine, I guess I owe it to you after acting like a jerk. But you’re not putting so much as a scratch on it, or you owe me ten thousand dollars!”
“Whatever, Rictor.”
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The boys arrived in Chelsea a short while later with the bike unscratched, and Ric a little content at being able to ride it with ‘Star. For awhile it was like things were back to normal; biking and bickering in the night like they used to. However, things got a little tense when they finally got outside the club. Rictor had looked a place up on the 'net, as he was not exactly familiar with the New York nightlife like he once had been while living in Murderworld. And, of course, he was trying out a new kind of nightlife that night - one that he had never really tried before either.
It was just as new for him as it was for Shatterstar.
“Julio?”
“Yeah, Shatty?” Ric swallowed as he looked over the building from across the street.
“This place is weird,” he replied, voice sounding annoyed.
And it was; Rictor could not deny that. There were all sorts of guys surrounding the entrance and the alleys around the brick structure. It was loud just standing across the road, and Ric felt his heart rate speed up just at the sight of it. He had no idea at all what to expect. But in a way, that made it a little more fun. Besides, he was doing this for Shatterstar, and there was no way he could let him know that he was freaked out and nervous too. Rictor had never exactly gone out looking for guys to hook up with, so they were both on the same playing field in terms of unfamiliarity. But he would do just about anything to help him.
“All places are weird,” Rictor told him, and shot him an encouraging smile. “Wanna go in?”
“I suppose,” he said. “I notice there are no women here though.”
Rictor nodded as they made their way across the street and to the door. “And you won’t find any here, amigo. This is a club for gay men.”
He did not have to look over to know that Shatterstar had stiffened beside him. “For gay men? You mean…will they…?”
They stopped just outside the door, and Rictor looked up at him. “I’m not gonna lie; you’ll probably have people approach you or maybe even talk to you. But you just have to take it easy, okay? We can stick together.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, and sent one more troubled look up to the building. “But you…you are okay with this? What if they approach you? Then what do we do?”
Rictor swallowed down a bundle of nerves, and tried to shrug it off casually. “I’ll have some fun. Just like you.”
A questioning look burned in the bigger man’s eyes, but he did not voice it. The Mexican just smiled again, and gestured to the door. A large bouncer stood there, looking between them. “You boys got cover charge?” Rictor nodded, and dug his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet. He fished around for a twenty and handed it off, paying for them both. The bouncer perked an eyebrow. “You got ID kid?”
“You’re joking me…” Rictor muttered.
“Do I look like it?”
Ric scowled and handed off his card, and just as quickly snatched it back again when the bouncer moved aside for them. Fucking asshole! He was obviously just trying to embarrass him! Whatever; Rictor just grabbed Shatterstar by the wrist again and dragged him inside the doors. The warrior was a little tenser by that point, and it only got worse when they got inside.
“Madre de Dios…” Rictor squeaked.
The place was huge and completely filled with guys. The lighting was dim, but colourful, and there were a few laser lights shot across the ceiling. A couple of higher stages were set up for some very scantily clad go-go dancers, and the bar was lit up with green and purple neon lights. And, of course, they just had to be playing the most obnoxious music. Something loud and full of bass that he remembered Tabitha playing all the time.
“God Tabby would be having a shit if she saw me now,” he muttered, smacking his free hand against his forehead.
“Tabby?” Shatterstar questioned, moving closer to Rictor when a group of guys squeezed past them and gave them the once over.
“Meltdown,” Ric rolled his eyes, trying his hardest to ignore the repetitive techno. “An old friend of ours.”
“I don’t like this,” Shatterstar said suddenly.
Rictor frowned, and slipped his hand down off the warrior’s wrist and into his hand. He blushed, but gave him an encouraging nod as he laced their fingers together. “Just stick with me, everything will be fine.”
“What do we do?” silver eyes peered down nervously at the touch, but he did not question it.
Ric could not help the chuckle from escaping his lips. Leading him to the dance floor, he pulled him close. “Just follow me, okay? See everyone else? They just dance and have a good time. You just have to take it easy, okay? And remember: no one’s going to fight you, and no one is going to try and hurt us. It’s just…fun, all right?”
Shatterstar nodded awkwardly, and squeezed away from a couple of flailing limbs. The crowd was thick, and already Rictor could sense his friend’s distress. He would have had no problem leaving right then and there, but he figured it would have been just as well to take Samson’s advice. Let it play out naturally, and hope to god no one got killed. The Mexican began nodding his head to beat of the song - lame as it was - and tried to show Shatty it was okay to get into it.
“I know it looks kinda silly and the tunes suck, but it’s not so bad once you loosen up!”
‘Star pulled away from another body, and tightened his hold on Rictor’s hand. “I suppose.”
The Mexican grinned again, and tightened his hold back, lifting their arms as he began to dance. Shatterstar, like he suspected, did not do much dancing back, but Rictor, like always, did not let that deter him. The warrior had never been a dancer in public, but used to claim he did not mind watching Rictor when he got into it. So Julio decided to use that, and go with it. Silver eyes looked down on him curiously, and Rictor was suddenly finding himself enjoying the attention.
It felt good to let loose after everything, and after the shitty news Shatterstar had unwillingly dropped on him the previous night, Ric felt an inner twinge of deviousness spark up inside of him. The warrior’s eyes were glued on Rictor’s movements, so he played it up. Swaying his hips and moving with Shatty’s hands in his, he moved around the warrior. Feet stepping and sliding along the floor.
And Shatterstar still had no idea what to do.
“What are you…” he looked nervous again. “How do I-what…?”
Ric just bit his lip, and tried to urge him on. “Come on! Follow me!”
“No problem!” another voice cut in, and grabbed the Mexican by the front of his pants. Stronger arms spun him around, and he found himself with a new dance partner. Another Latino, from the looks of it, and he wore only a pair of low riding cargo pants. Attractive he was, Rictor could not deny that, and he stared back at Shatterstar as he began to grind against the willing body.
He did not look happy at all.
Not being able to help the smug feeling he got from the apparent jealousy, Rictor placed his arms around the other guy’s neck and gave Shatty a friendly smile. “You gonna be all right?!”
The alien dropped his hands to his sides miserably and frowned, but did not say a word.
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“Wow! I remember a time when we used to get these and pretend they were Gumby people!” Longshot rolled his eyes goofily and held his mozzarella sticks up to his forehead. “Whoa! It’s an alien in-vay-shun! Wow!”
Dazzler laughed loudly and shook her head. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?”
The Mojoworlder cracked a huge grin before promptly tossing a cheese stick over his shoulder and onto the table behind them. “Mother?! Who needs those these days? Besides, the closest thing I have to a mom is a hairy old man with a fake back!”
Alison laughed again, not being able to help how goofy she felt when she was with him. “You don’t have a mom?”
“Nope!” he grinned again, and folded his legs under his butt. “Hey! Waitress! I need ketchup!”
The teenage girl glared from across the room, but made her way to the kitchen again. Alison just shot her husband a look before bursting out laughing again. “You’re such a brat, Longshot!”
“No way!” he surveyed the room; there were only a few other patrons in there with them, and the lot of them were drunk anyways. “We used to come to these places all the time, Ali, and we always had a lot of fun. We’d play pool and dance to the jukebox…and don’t even get me started on karaoke night!”
“Karaoke?” the woman asked with an excited glint in her eye.
“Oh yeah! They would play these silly songs and you would get up and sing them! And everyone loved you,” he gushed, and picked up another cheese stick to inspect it. When he thought it was good enough, he brought it up his mouth to use as a microphone. “Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk! Music loud and women warm! I’ve been kicked around since I was born!”
She laughed loudly at his horrible singing voice. “Oh gosh, did I sound like that!?”
“No way!” he scoffed, and tossed that piece of food over his shoulder as well. “You have the best voice I ever heard!”
“Really?”
“I promise!” he beamed, and reached across the table to grab her hand. “The best voice and the best stage costumes; you were a class act! I tell you, where I come from audience ratings mean everything. Trust me, people love you, Ali, and I do too.”
She felt her face heat slightly and her chest swelled with some sort of inexplicable affection. However, before she could reply, the waitress returned to their table with a bottle of ketchup and a scowl.
“Here’s your condiment. Now will you please stop throwing your food? You’re bothering the other costumers!”
Longshot perked an eyebrow and twisted in his seat to take a look behind him. There was an intoxicated man passed out on his sandwich behind him, but it did not appear as though any cheese sticks had hit him. Well, at least any that he would have noticed.
“He looks happy,” Longshot observed. “You must feed people really well here.”
The waitress blinked. “You’re not even eating your food!”
“I like it,” the Mojoworlder smiled happily. “My compliments to the chef.”
“They came in a frozen bag,” she replied incredulously.
“Gotta love those frozen bags then,” he chuckled, and handed her a dollar bill. ‘My compliments to the bag.”
She just shook her head with exasperation before twirling around and stomping off in the other direction. Alison could not at all help but burst out into a fit of laughter again; they were probably driving the poor girl nuts! But Longshot was calm and did not seem to mind, and as such, it rubbed off on the Dazzler.
“Hey! You know what we should do?” he exclaimed, and hopped up to perch on the seat of his chair.
“No, what?”
“I say we do some karaoke after all!” he beamed. “It’ll be fun!”
Alison looked around nervously; all the old men there looked rather cranky. “I don’t know. Are we allowed to?”
He nodded. “Yeah! All we have to do is ask them to turn it on!”
Alison inspected the room. “I don’t know. I can’t really remember any songs. What am I supposed to sing?”
The Mojoworlder beamed. “Hey waitress! Come here again!”
"What now!?” she snapped, obviously getting quite annoyed with Longshot’s behaviour.
“I wanna sing karaoke,” he explained.
“You? Want to sing karaoke?” she asked incredulously, placing her hands on her hips. “Why should I let you do that after all the mess you’ve been making?!”
“Because I'm paying you, silly!” Longshot reminded her, and placed a few more dollars on the table. “Besides, it’s so boring in here. Don’t you want something fun to happen? I bet it would make your work shift go by a lot faster.”
“Will you promise not to leave a mess?” the petite brunette proposed.
“Of course! I’m not messy,” Longshot rolled his eyes good naturedly, and leapt up from his seat to land behind her. She seemed startled at the act, but Longshot did not allow her to be for long. He pushed her gently toward the small stage set up at the corner of the diner. “You just have to show me how to use it. I haven’t been around this kind of equipment for a few years now.”
Alison pursed her lips together and watched as her husband got everything set up and a screen turned on. She was curious about what would happen next, and could not stop the amused burst of laughter that came forth. Longshot dimmed the lights and turned on a few blue and red strobes before grabbing a microphone. “Just watch me!” he yelled from across the room.
She laughed again. “Okay!”
He cleared his throat very loudly into the microphone, and it made a few of the drunks groan at the sound. But the Cadre leader was not deterred - oh no! He grinned happily and watched the monitor as the music began. After a few seconds some lyrics began climbing the screen, and Longshot simply read them off as he sang.
“At first I was afraid! I was petrified! Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side. But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong and I grew strong! And I learned how to get along!”
As soon as the music picked up he tried some dance moves, and it only succeeded in making Alison double over with laughter. Not because he was that horrible, but she just could not believe that he would get up and do such a thing just to have fun with her. He was absolutely adorable in his impersonation - so much so that she had tears streaming down her face from her laughter. But the sight of her must have only motivated him more, because he just grinned stupidly and spun on his shoes. Shaking his hips and pointing as he sang.
“Oh no, not I! I will survive - oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive! I’ve got all my life to live, and I’ve got all my love to give! I’ll survive! I will survive!”
The passed out man that had been sitting behind Longshot shook a cheese stick from his hair as he looked up, eyes groggily fighting to open and focus on the man on the stage. The look on his face only made Alison fall further into hysterics, so Longshot just continued to dance and spin as he belted out the words. He was completely into it, and surprisingly not bad at the dancing either. Ali wondered briefly where he learned how to do that.
When the song finished up, he just dropped the microphone and bounded off the stage as he made his way back to the table. Completely ignoring the moans and groans from the old men around him, he placed his three fingered hand in Alison’s and pulled her up to her feet to stand. “It’s your turn.”
“What!? Wait, no--” she trailed off, and squeaked as he pulled her to the stage. Nerves fluttered in the pit of her stomach as he set her up, and she took an awkward glance around the room. The old men were more curious about having a lady up on the stage, but she tried to ignore them. “Longshot! I can’t do it!”
“Don’t you say that,” he chided playfully and hooked the mic back up to the stand. “That’s the silliest thing I have ever heard you say.”
“But I can’t--”
He cut her off, pressing his lips against hers. Her eyes widened at the touch; it was not something he had done since they had been reunited, and it shocked her. However, it brought upon a flutter of positive feelings, and she grinned goofily when he pulled away. “You can do anything, especially sing!” he proclaimed and sifted through the songs. “Here! This was one of your favourite disco tracks! Just follow the words on the screen and you’ll do fine, I promise!”
She squeaked in surprise when he kissed her cheek quickly and leapt off the stage. He sat down on the closest chair and shot her a thumbs up. A few of the men were muttering things around the bar, but she tried to keep her eyes on her husband. She jumped slightly when the music began, but quickly found herself able to catch on to the rhythm. Following Longshot’s lead from earlier, she began to move to the music just slightly. The beat flowed through her, and she grinned when it was time to sing. A soft voice at first, shy and melodic, but it quickly caught the attention of all the restaurant patrons. The smiles and catcalls fuelled her fire, and she moved more fluidly.
“Oh, I love to love, but my baby just loves to dance, he wants to dance! He loves to dance, he’s got to dance. Oh, I love to love, but my baby just loves to dance! Oh, I love to love, but he won’t give our love a chance! No, no, no…oh, I love to love, but my baby just loves to dance!”
Longshot clapped loudly and brought his hand up to his mouth to let out a loud whistle. “All right, Ali! I knew you could do it!”
She grinned as she danced, belting out the words as loud as her lungs would let her. All eyes in the room were on her, and never had she felt so comfortable and in her element. And if such a feeling was what she lived with in her pre-mind wipe life, she was absolutely blown away at the prospect of getting it back.
The song ended, and she got a loud ovation from the patrons that made her blush. Swiftly she jumped off the stage and into Longshot’s waiting arms as she hugged him tightly. She felt like she was on a high, and she had him to thank for it. “That was so much fun!” she laughed into the crook of his neck.
“I knew you could do it,” he repeated, and wrapped his arms around her waist. His faith was absolutely astonishing, and she thanked him with another kiss.
“Thank-you,” she breathed happily.
“You’re welcome,” he beamed, and grabbed her hand. “Anything for you.”
“What do you say we get out of here?” Alison inquired with a smile.
“Sure,” he returned the gesture, and led the way towards the door. A couple of the older men pressed some bills into her hand as she passed, and she took them with a flattered blush. Who would have thought she could have ever pulled something like that off?
When they got outside, Longshot spun her around and pressed her against the brick wall of the diner. The look in his eyes - such admiration and love - made her melt. Slowly he brought a hand up and placed it on the side of her face, and he smiled at her. “You were so beautiful up there, Ali.”
She jutted her tongue out to wet her lips, before smiling slowly at him. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
“You kidding me?” he chuckled. “I can’t sing at all!”
She pulled him closer by his shirt. “But you sure looked like you loved to dance.”
His smile widened. “You don’t actually think we spent our entire marriage playing with guns and chasing Mojo, do you? Because we sure had quite a bit of down time, and you definitely used that to your advantage,” he pushed his fingers through the back of her hair. “No disco queen in her right mind would marry a man with two left feet. I believe that’s what you said.”
She chuckled at that. “I’d say that makes sense.”
“Of course.”
She dropped her gaze down to his lips and swallowed before looking back up at him. That affection still shone brightly in his eyes, but his goofy front was slipping to expose her to something more serious. It made her heart beat wildly in her chest, and she slipped an arm up around his neck before leaning in to press her mouth against his. He sighed contentedly at the touch, and pushed his body against hers more fully. The hard muscles of a perfectly chiselled body moved with her, and it made her crave more of him. She slid her tongue into his mouth and fisted his hair as she roughly pulled him even closer.
Images flashed through her mind of lust and touch. Remembering the way he always acted like a gentleman, waiting for an invitation to go further. She would take his hand in hers and press it against the round of her breast until he decided to take the lead. She remembered the way he worshipped her body; how he would drop to his knees before her, laying kisses against her stomach and downward until he reached her groin. Such passion that flowed between them so many years ago was igniting within her once more against the building in the New York night. And for the first time since her return from Mojoworld she wanted him. Needed him so badly against her that it made her ache in strange places. Her chest, her thighs, her fingers, her spine; he made her feel so alive.
“We should get home,” she breathed, pulling away from his lips. He stared at her hungrily as he fought to catch his breath, but nodded.
“Yeah…yeah, sure.”
Fingers laced together, and he pulled her off of the wall and toward him. She followed gracefully, but then stopped when they got about ten feet past the diner. “Wait!”
“What?” he asked her.
“I forgot my jacket,” she said sheepishly. “Inside the diner. I have to go back and--”
“I’ll go,” he told her with a smile.
“Thank you,” she told him, and folded her arms as she watched him walk back inside. However, she was not alone for long. As soon as she turned to lean back against the corner of the wall, a flash of something caught her eyes. Swallowing anxiously, she summoned a small amount of light to illuminate her hand. The alley next to the diner lit up, and she was shocked at what she saw. “You!”
The six armed executioner perked an eyebrow. “You remembered? That’s surprising.”
Alison’s fists began to glow brighter, and she glared. “What do you want!?”
“I’m not here to fight,” she assured. “Like you, I myself am a slave of Mojo, and because of that you should hear me out, biped.”
Alison glanced back at the diner, but there was still no sign of Longshot. “You better be quick because Longshot’s gonna make his way out here, and he won’t be too happy to see you!”
She scoffed angrily. “I am not at all afraid of him, nor am I of you. But, like I said, I’m not here to fight. I have a proposition for you.”
The Dazzler swallowed, and clenched her fists. “Like what?”
“If you would just kindly spare a few moments of your time, I can get you your memories back.”
“What’s the catch?” Alison narrowed her eyes. “How do I know I can even trust you!?”
“Just hear me out, child,” the woman smiled and bared a row of long, pointy teeth. “Because you might just learn that you’ve had your trust in the wrong people all along.”
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Go to chapter 12.
Shit, he was nervous.
Which was strange considering he did not really have anything he needed to be nervous about per se, but he was. Rictor and Shatterstar had gone out together many times. Hell, they had lived together - alone and with friends. The guy had seen him naked more times than Ric could even count; they had seen each other at their best and worst and most exposed.
Yet here he was nervous about taking him out for just a night.
Of course, there was a bit of a risk taking Shatterstar out where he planned on taking him. However, the Mexican just had to hope that any sort of comfort and social adjustments made before the mind wipe would come in handy. The whole point of the outing was to try for some more memories to resurface, and Ric just had to wonder what - if any - would come about. Maybe it would be the night that Shatterstar would finally remember him. Dios, he just wanted his old friend back.
Which was why, he presumed, he found himself in front of the bathroom mirror nervous as shit and trying his best to look good. He had actually shaved his face, added a small amount of product in his hair to keep it decent looking, and put on cologne.
Madre de Dios, he felt like a pretty boy.
He frowned in the mirror once more before taking off out of the room and running down the hall to knock on a door. The very second the oak opened, he bolted inside and began to pace.
“Ric…what are ye doin’?”
“Do I look stupid?”
Theresa blinked and looked him up and down. “I think that’s the cleanest I’ve seen ye look in months. And ye actually smell good!”
Rictor stopped and blinked. “I usually smell bad?”
Her eyes widened. ‘Nae! I dinnae-- I-- that’s nae what I meant.”
The Mexican sulked and plopped down to her bed on his back. “Thanks a lot! I feel stupid enough as it is, and that didn’t help!”
"I just meant that ye smell really good,” she grinned with a laugh, before dropping down next to him. She leaned over and smelled the crook of his neck. “Hmmm, what is that?”
“I’m not telling,” he snapped and sat up. “But it isn’t gross? I never usually wear this stuff, you know, ‘cause it’s like, y'know, really preppy.”
“I don’t think it is,” she told him. “Believe me, it’s a turn on when a lad smells good. It shows ye actually care enough tah put some effort into yuir appearance.”
“And the rest of me?”
She looked him up and down again. “Once again, best I’ve seen ye look in months. But I’m gonna guess ye got that outfit from yuir old pile of stuff?”
His eyes widened. “I look out of date, don’t I!?”
“Nae,” she rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the wrist when he tried to jump back up again. “Ye just used to be very particular about yuir looks before. Ever since ye lost yuir powers it’s like ye just don’t care anymore. It’s nice tah see ye motivated again.” She smiled and fingered his shirt. “It’s like yuir the ole Ric again.”
He took a deep breath and looked down at himself. “I just feel weird.”
“Nervous? Self conscious?” a smile stretched across her face. “It’s normal tah feel that way before a date, ye know.”
“It’s not a date.”
She smirked. “All black, sleeveless top, good jeans, and boots? You even brushed your hair!” she reached out to tussle it, and he dodged out of the way with a scowl.
“You’re making me feel like a chick!” he shouted at her. “Do I look too…you know?”
She rolled her eyes again, for what seemed like the millionth time. “How the bloody hell do ye look gay, boyo!? Ye look fine, now stop actin’ like such a girl, and go!” she pushed him toward the door. “And what are ye so worried about? I thought ye were goin’ to a gay club?”
“Shut up!” he hissed. “I’ve never even been to one! I’m just going ‘cause ‘Star’s gay.”
Terry perked an eyebrow. “Ye can be so lame sometimes. But whatever, if that's yuir excuse fine. But ye and I both know ye’ll be the one doin’ all the--”
“Bye!” Rictor cut her off before she could tease him anymore. So much for talking to her; he should have figured she would be gushing like a moron. But at least she had said he did not look like an idiot, and that was important. Hopefully Shatterstar would feel the same way. Clearing his throat, he stepped out of Siryn’s room and walked a few doors down the hall to where Shatterstar was staying. Ric ran his fingers over his hair once more to make sure it was all in place before knocking. It only took a few seconds for Shatty to answer.
And when he did, Rictor’s breath hitched in his throat.
He forgot how damn good he looked when he dressed up. He wore an olive green button up shirt - with the top two undone - and a pair of neat black slacks. Copper locks flowed freely down his back; for the first time in a long while he chose to wear his hair down. The Mexican swallowed, and forced a smile on his face.
“Uh, you ready?”
The Mojoworlder frowned. “I’m unsure that I want to go.”
“Why? Come on! You have to!” Ric demanded. “I’m ready, you’re ready, and it’ll be fun! Besides, you haven’t even left the place since I took you shopping like four or five days ago!”
Shatterstar folded his arms. “And besides to ask me to leave with you tonight, you have not even spoken to me since I told you last night that I--”
Rictor winced, pushing the memory from his mind; he did not need to be thinking about Adam-X right then. “Look, don’t take it personally. I just-- I’m an asshole, okay? And…I’m sorry.”
“Were you mad because you are not accepting of that lifestyle?”
“What?!” brown eyes widened. “No! No, no, no! You got it all - look. I don’t think I can explain it to you, but when you get upset like that and start asking all those questions and freaking out…” he ran a hand over his hair, and cursed himself for messing it. “It’s just hard for me, okay? Please don’t think I’m mad at you ‘cause I’m not.”
Silver eyes narrowed, and Shatterstar’s frown deepened. “What is this place? I don’t think I would like it!”
Rictor smiled and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him out of the confines of the bedroom. “You’re not backing out, compinche. Try if you might, but I’ll bug you all damn night until you come. And you really don’t like it when I whine.”
“That much I know.”
“Very funny,” Rictor rolled his eyes. “Seriously though! It’ll be a good time! We can even take my motorcycle. It’s a sexy piece of work, too!”
“Can I drive it?” Shatterstar asked, for some reason letting Ric drag him down the stairs.
Rictor was pained at the question. “Uhm…”
“Please? I like motorcycles.”
“I know you do,” Ric scowled, thinking back to the many times Shatty decided to tinker with his and how many times he decided he wanted to jump over stuff with it. “Fine, I guess I owe it to you after acting like a jerk. But you’re not putting so much as a scratch on it, or you owe me ten thousand dollars!”
“Whatever, Rictor.”
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The boys arrived in Chelsea a short while later with the bike unscratched, and Ric a little content at being able to ride it with ‘Star. For awhile it was like things were back to normal; biking and bickering in the night like they used to. However, things got a little tense when they finally got outside the club. Rictor had looked a place up on the 'net, as he was not exactly familiar with the New York nightlife like he once had been while living in Murderworld. And, of course, he was trying out a new kind of nightlife that night - one that he had never really tried before either.
It was just as new for him as it was for Shatterstar.
“Julio?”
“Yeah, Shatty?” Ric swallowed as he looked over the building from across the street.
“This place is weird,” he replied, voice sounding annoyed.
And it was; Rictor could not deny that. There were all sorts of guys surrounding the entrance and the alleys around the brick structure. It was loud just standing across the road, and Ric felt his heart rate speed up just at the sight of it. He had no idea at all what to expect. But in a way, that made it a little more fun. Besides, he was doing this for Shatterstar, and there was no way he could let him know that he was freaked out and nervous too. Rictor had never exactly gone out looking for guys to hook up with, so they were both on the same playing field in terms of unfamiliarity. But he would do just about anything to help him.
“All places are weird,” Rictor told him, and shot him an encouraging smile. “Wanna go in?”
“I suppose,” he said. “I notice there are no women here though.”
Rictor nodded as they made their way across the street and to the door. “And you won’t find any here, amigo. This is a club for gay men.”
He did not have to look over to know that Shatterstar had stiffened beside him. “For gay men? You mean…will they…?”
They stopped just outside the door, and Rictor looked up at him. “I’m not gonna lie; you’ll probably have people approach you or maybe even talk to you. But you just have to take it easy, okay? We can stick together.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, and sent one more troubled look up to the building. “But you…you are okay with this? What if they approach you? Then what do we do?”
Rictor swallowed down a bundle of nerves, and tried to shrug it off casually. “I’ll have some fun. Just like you.”
A questioning look burned in the bigger man’s eyes, but he did not voice it. The Mexican just smiled again, and gestured to the door. A large bouncer stood there, looking between them. “You boys got cover charge?” Rictor nodded, and dug his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet. He fished around for a twenty and handed it off, paying for them both. The bouncer perked an eyebrow. “You got ID kid?”
“You’re joking me…” Rictor muttered.
“Do I look like it?”
Ric scowled and handed off his card, and just as quickly snatched it back again when the bouncer moved aside for them. Fucking asshole! He was obviously just trying to embarrass him! Whatever; Rictor just grabbed Shatterstar by the wrist again and dragged him inside the doors. The warrior was a little tenser by that point, and it only got worse when they got inside.
“Madre de Dios…” Rictor squeaked.
The place was huge and completely filled with guys. The lighting was dim, but colourful, and there were a few laser lights shot across the ceiling. A couple of higher stages were set up for some very scantily clad go-go dancers, and the bar was lit up with green and purple neon lights. And, of course, they just had to be playing the most obnoxious music. Something loud and full of bass that he remembered Tabitha playing all the time.
“God Tabby would be having a shit if she saw me now,” he muttered, smacking his free hand against his forehead.
“Tabby?” Shatterstar questioned, moving closer to Rictor when a group of guys squeezed past them and gave them the once over.
“Meltdown,” Ric rolled his eyes, trying his hardest to ignore the repetitive techno. “An old friend of ours.”
“I don’t like this,” Shatterstar said suddenly.
Rictor frowned, and slipped his hand down off the warrior’s wrist and into his hand. He blushed, but gave him an encouraging nod as he laced their fingers together. “Just stick with me, everything will be fine.”
“What do we do?” silver eyes peered down nervously at the touch, but he did not question it.
Ric could not help the chuckle from escaping his lips. Leading him to the dance floor, he pulled him close. “Just follow me, okay? See everyone else? They just dance and have a good time. You just have to take it easy, okay? And remember: no one’s going to fight you, and no one is going to try and hurt us. It’s just…fun, all right?”
Shatterstar nodded awkwardly, and squeezed away from a couple of flailing limbs. The crowd was thick, and already Rictor could sense his friend’s distress. He would have had no problem leaving right then and there, but he figured it would have been just as well to take Samson’s advice. Let it play out naturally, and hope to god no one got killed. The Mexican began nodding his head to beat of the song - lame as it was - and tried to show Shatty it was okay to get into it.
“I know it looks kinda silly and the tunes suck, but it’s not so bad once you loosen up!”
‘Star pulled away from another body, and tightened his hold on Rictor’s hand. “I suppose.”
The Mexican grinned again, and tightened his hold back, lifting their arms as he began to dance. Shatterstar, like he suspected, did not do much dancing back, but Rictor, like always, did not let that deter him. The warrior had never been a dancer in public, but used to claim he did not mind watching Rictor when he got into it. So Julio decided to use that, and go with it. Silver eyes looked down on him curiously, and Rictor was suddenly finding himself enjoying the attention.
It felt good to let loose after everything, and after the shitty news Shatterstar had unwillingly dropped on him the previous night, Ric felt an inner twinge of deviousness spark up inside of him. The warrior’s eyes were glued on Rictor’s movements, so he played it up. Swaying his hips and moving with Shatty’s hands in his, he moved around the warrior. Feet stepping and sliding along the floor.
And Shatterstar still had no idea what to do.
“What are you…” he looked nervous again. “How do I-what…?”
Ric just bit his lip, and tried to urge him on. “Come on! Follow me!”
“No problem!” another voice cut in, and grabbed the Mexican by the front of his pants. Stronger arms spun him around, and he found himself with a new dance partner. Another Latino, from the looks of it, and he wore only a pair of low riding cargo pants. Attractive he was, Rictor could not deny that, and he stared back at Shatterstar as he began to grind against the willing body.
He did not look happy at all.
Not being able to help the smug feeling he got from the apparent jealousy, Rictor placed his arms around the other guy’s neck and gave Shatty a friendly smile. “You gonna be all right?!”
The alien dropped his hands to his sides miserably and frowned, but did not say a word.
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“Wow! I remember a time when we used to get these and pretend they were Gumby people!” Longshot rolled his eyes goofily and held his mozzarella sticks up to his forehead. “Whoa! It’s an alien in-vay-shun! Wow!”
Dazzler laughed loudly and shook her head. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?”
The Mojoworlder cracked a huge grin before promptly tossing a cheese stick over his shoulder and onto the table behind them. “Mother?! Who needs those these days? Besides, the closest thing I have to a mom is a hairy old man with a fake back!”
Alison laughed again, not being able to help how goofy she felt when she was with him. “You don’t have a mom?”
“Nope!” he grinned again, and folded his legs under his butt. “Hey! Waitress! I need ketchup!”
The teenage girl glared from across the room, but made her way to the kitchen again. Alison just shot her husband a look before bursting out laughing again. “You’re such a brat, Longshot!”
“No way!” he surveyed the room; there were only a few other patrons in there with them, and the lot of them were drunk anyways. “We used to come to these places all the time, Ali, and we always had a lot of fun. We’d play pool and dance to the jukebox…and don’t even get me started on karaoke night!”
“Karaoke?” the woman asked with an excited glint in her eye.
“Oh yeah! They would play these silly songs and you would get up and sing them! And everyone loved you,” he gushed, and picked up another cheese stick to inspect it. When he thought it was good enough, he brought it up his mouth to use as a microphone. “Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk! Music loud and women warm! I’ve been kicked around since I was born!”
She laughed loudly at his horrible singing voice. “Oh gosh, did I sound like that!?”
“No way!” he scoffed, and tossed that piece of food over his shoulder as well. “You have the best voice I ever heard!”
“Really?”
“I promise!” he beamed, and reached across the table to grab her hand. “The best voice and the best stage costumes; you were a class act! I tell you, where I come from audience ratings mean everything. Trust me, people love you, Ali, and I do too.”
She felt her face heat slightly and her chest swelled with some sort of inexplicable affection. However, before she could reply, the waitress returned to their table with a bottle of ketchup and a scowl.
“Here’s your condiment. Now will you please stop throwing your food? You’re bothering the other costumers!”
Longshot perked an eyebrow and twisted in his seat to take a look behind him. There was an intoxicated man passed out on his sandwich behind him, but it did not appear as though any cheese sticks had hit him. Well, at least any that he would have noticed.
“He looks happy,” Longshot observed. “You must feed people really well here.”
The waitress blinked. “You’re not even eating your food!”
“I like it,” the Mojoworlder smiled happily. “My compliments to the chef.”
“They came in a frozen bag,” she replied incredulously.
“Gotta love those frozen bags then,” he chuckled, and handed her a dollar bill. ‘My compliments to the bag.”
She just shook her head with exasperation before twirling around and stomping off in the other direction. Alison could not at all help but burst out into a fit of laughter again; they were probably driving the poor girl nuts! But Longshot was calm and did not seem to mind, and as such, it rubbed off on the Dazzler.
“Hey! You know what we should do?” he exclaimed, and hopped up to perch on the seat of his chair.
“No, what?”
“I say we do some karaoke after all!” he beamed. “It’ll be fun!”
Alison looked around nervously; all the old men there looked rather cranky. “I don’t know. Are we allowed to?”
He nodded. “Yeah! All we have to do is ask them to turn it on!”
Alison inspected the room. “I don’t know. I can’t really remember any songs. What am I supposed to sing?”
The Mojoworlder beamed. “Hey waitress! Come here again!”
"What now!?” she snapped, obviously getting quite annoyed with Longshot’s behaviour.
“I wanna sing karaoke,” he explained.
“You? Want to sing karaoke?” she asked incredulously, placing her hands on her hips. “Why should I let you do that after all the mess you’ve been making?!”
“Because I'm paying you, silly!” Longshot reminded her, and placed a few more dollars on the table. “Besides, it’s so boring in here. Don’t you want something fun to happen? I bet it would make your work shift go by a lot faster.”
“Will you promise not to leave a mess?” the petite brunette proposed.
“Of course! I’m not messy,” Longshot rolled his eyes good naturedly, and leapt up from his seat to land behind her. She seemed startled at the act, but Longshot did not allow her to be for long. He pushed her gently toward the small stage set up at the corner of the diner. “You just have to show me how to use it. I haven’t been around this kind of equipment for a few years now.”
Alison pursed her lips together and watched as her husband got everything set up and a screen turned on. She was curious about what would happen next, and could not stop the amused burst of laughter that came forth. Longshot dimmed the lights and turned on a few blue and red strobes before grabbing a microphone. “Just watch me!” he yelled from across the room.
She laughed again. “Okay!”
He cleared his throat very loudly into the microphone, and it made a few of the drunks groan at the sound. But the Cadre leader was not deterred - oh no! He grinned happily and watched the monitor as the music began. After a few seconds some lyrics began climbing the screen, and Longshot simply read them off as he sang.
“At first I was afraid! I was petrified! Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side. But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong and I grew strong! And I learned how to get along!”
As soon as the music picked up he tried some dance moves, and it only succeeded in making Alison double over with laughter. Not because he was that horrible, but she just could not believe that he would get up and do such a thing just to have fun with her. He was absolutely adorable in his impersonation - so much so that she had tears streaming down her face from her laughter. But the sight of her must have only motivated him more, because he just grinned stupidly and spun on his shoes. Shaking his hips and pointing as he sang.
“Oh no, not I! I will survive - oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive! I’ve got all my life to live, and I’ve got all my love to give! I’ll survive! I will survive!”
The passed out man that had been sitting behind Longshot shook a cheese stick from his hair as he looked up, eyes groggily fighting to open and focus on the man on the stage. The look on his face only made Alison fall further into hysterics, so Longshot just continued to dance and spin as he belted out the words. He was completely into it, and surprisingly not bad at the dancing either. Ali wondered briefly where he learned how to do that.
When the song finished up, he just dropped the microphone and bounded off the stage as he made his way back to the table. Completely ignoring the moans and groans from the old men around him, he placed his three fingered hand in Alison’s and pulled her up to her feet to stand. “It’s your turn.”
“What!? Wait, no--” she trailed off, and squeaked as he pulled her to the stage. Nerves fluttered in the pit of her stomach as he set her up, and she took an awkward glance around the room. The old men were more curious about having a lady up on the stage, but she tried to ignore them. “Longshot! I can’t do it!”
“Don’t you say that,” he chided playfully and hooked the mic back up to the stand. “That’s the silliest thing I have ever heard you say.”
“But I can’t--”
He cut her off, pressing his lips against hers. Her eyes widened at the touch; it was not something he had done since they had been reunited, and it shocked her. However, it brought upon a flutter of positive feelings, and she grinned goofily when he pulled away. “You can do anything, especially sing!” he proclaimed and sifted through the songs. “Here! This was one of your favourite disco tracks! Just follow the words on the screen and you’ll do fine, I promise!”
She squeaked in surprise when he kissed her cheek quickly and leapt off the stage. He sat down on the closest chair and shot her a thumbs up. A few of the men were muttering things around the bar, but she tried to keep her eyes on her husband. She jumped slightly when the music began, but quickly found herself able to catch on to the rhythm. Following Longshot’s lead from earlier, she began to move to the music just slightly. The beat flowed through her, and she grinned when it was time to sing. A soft voice at first, shy and melodic, but it quickly caught the attention of all the restaurant patrons. The smiles and catcalls fuelled her fire, and she moved more fluidly.
“Oh, I love to love, but my baby just loves to dance, he wants to dance! He loves to dance, he’s got to dance. Oh, I love to love, but my baby just loves to dance! Oh, I love to love, but he won’t give our love a chance! No, no, no…oh, I love to love, but my baby just loves to dance!”
Longshot clapped loudly and brought his hand up to his mouth to let out a loud whistle. “All right, Ali! I knew you could do it!”
She grinned as she danced, belting out the words as loud as her lungs would let her. All eyes in the room were on her, and never had she felt so comfortable and in her element. And if such a feeling was what she lived with in her pre-mind wipe life, she was absolutely blown away at the prospect of getting it back.
The song ended, and she got a loud ovation from the patrons that made her blush. Swiftly she jumped off the stage and into Longshot’s waiting arms as she hugged him tightly. She felt like she was on a high, and she had him to thank for it. “That was so much fun!” she laughed into the crook of his neck.
“I knew you could do it,” he repeated, and wrapped his arms around her waist. His faith was absolutely astonishing, and she thanked him with another kiss.
“Thank-you,” she breathed happily.
“You’re welcome,” he beamed, and grabbed her hand. “Anything for you.”
“What do you say we get out of here?” Alison inquired with a smile.
“Sure,” he returned the gesture, and led the way towards the door. A couple of the older men pressed some bills into her hand as she passed, and she took them with a flattered blush. Who would have thought she could have ever pulled something like that off?
When they got outside, Longshot spun her around and pressed her against the brick wall of the diner. The look in his eyes - such admiration and love - made her melt. Slowly he brought a hand up and placed it on the side of her face, and he smiled at her. “You were so beautiful up there, Ali.”
She jutted her tongue out to wet her lips, before smiling slowly at him. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
“You kidding me?” he chuckled. “I can’t sing at all!”
She pulled him closer by his shirt. “But you sure looked like you loved to dance.”
His smile widened. “You don’t actually think we spent our entire marriage playing with guns and chasing Mojo, do you? Because we sure had quite a bit of down time, and you definitely used that to your advantage,” he pushed his fingers through the back of her hair. “No disco queen in her right mind would marry a man with two left feet. I believe that’s what you said.”
She chuckled at that. “I’d say that makes sense.”
“Of course.”
She dropped her gaze down to his lips and swallowed before looking back up at him. That affection still shone brightly in his eyes, but his goofy front was slipping to expose her to something more serious. It made her heart beat wildly in her chest, and she slipped an arm up around his neck before leaning in to press her mouth against his. He sighed contentedly at the touch, and pushed his body against hers more fully. The hard muscles of a perfectly chiselled body moved with her, and it made her crave more of him. She slid her tongue into his mouth and fisted his hair as she roughly pulled him even closer.
Images flashed through her mind of lust and touch. Remembering the way he always acted like a gentleman, waiting for an invitation to go further. She would take his hand in hers and press it against the round of her breast until he decided to take the lead. She remembered the way he worshipped her body; how he would drop to his knees before her, laying kisses against her stomach and downward until he reached her groin. Such passion that flowed between them so many years ago was igniting within her once more against the building in the New York night. And for the first time since her return from Mojoworld she wanted him. Needed him so badly against her that it made her ache in strange places. Her chest, her thighs, her fingers, her spine; he made her feel so alive.
“We should get home,” she breathed, pulling away from his lips. He stared at her hungrily as he fought to catch his breath, but nodded.
“Yeah…yeah, sure.”
Fingers laced together, and he pulled her off of the wall and toward him. She followed gracefully, but then stopped when they got about ten feet past the diner. “Wait!”
“What?” he asked her.
“I forgot my jacket,” she said sheepishly. “Inside the diner. I have to go back and--”
“I’ll go,” he told her with a smile.
“Thank you,” she told him, and folded her arms as she watched him walk back inside. However, she was not alone for long. As soon as she turned to lean back against the corner of the wall, a flash of something caught her eyes. Swallowing anxiously, she summoned a small amount of light to illuminate her hand. The alley next to the diner lit up, and she was shocked at what she saw. “You!”
The six armed executioner perked an eyebrow. “You remembered? That’s surprising.”
Alison’s fists began to glow brighter, and she glared. “What do you want!?”
“I’m not here to fight,” she assured. “Like you, I myself am a slave of Mojo, and because of that you should hear me out, biped.”
Alison glanced back at the diner, but there was still no sign of Longshot. “You better be quick because Longshot’s gonna make his way out here, and he won’t be too happy to see you!”
She scoffed angrily. “I am not at all afraid of him, nor am I of you. But, like I said, I’m not here to fight. I have a proposition for you.”
The Dazzler swallowed, and clenched her fists. “Like what?”
“If you would just kindly spare a few moments of your time, I can get you your memories back.”
“What’s the catch?” Alison narrowed her eyes. “How do I know I can even trust you!?”
“Just hear me out, child,” the woman smiled and bared a row of long, pointy teeth. “Because you might just learn that you’ve had your trust in the wrong people all along.”
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Go to chapter 12.