All I wanna do is kill somebody

[Seth Spiros]

Okay, whoa, where was this going? It felt a little weird. Not because Alexo was a man. It was his own problem; he was wearing clothes and it wasn't exactly... comfortable. He felt like he should have at least taken off the jeans. There was nothing untoward about a man sleeping in his underwear. He just didn't want to give Alexo the wrong idea.

That part didn't seem to matter. Even fully dressed, Alexo managed to wind himself around Seth like a snake. Everywhere he looked, Alexo had a body part. He could feel his leg twining with his. His hand on his chest. Under his tank top, mind you. What was he even doing with his nipple? Seth shifted slightly, thinking oh, it might be a mistake... but it happened again. Er...

"It intimidates some people," he said, trying his best to ignore the way his nipple started to harden. And the intimidation factor was part of the game. Perfecting the right Stare. Some guys could be shaken just by the look of their opponent. But really, Seth just liked the aesthetic. The way his skin looked covered in art. The fact that it added to the intimidation factor in a fight was just icing.

"I like fighting. The adrenaline, the primal energy. Even just training for it..." It made him feel good. It was his hobby, not just his job. He smiled, though. Hard not to smile when Alexo smiled at him.

"My mama said the same thing. 'You're going to ruin your beautiful face!'" He said this in a typical Greek mama's voice. She'd grabbed his face in one hand and squeezed when she said it. "I told her... not if I'm good at it." He winked at this, a little more of his true personality peeking through the professional distance he'd been maintaining so far.

[Alejandro Riviera]

Damn, damn, damn. Alejo felt himself slipping back into old habits again. He had a good guy with him. A nice guy. A man who respected boundaries and who genuinely helped him without conditions, whose only concern had been to get him home safe and sound. And every damn time he had a decent guy, a sweet guy, alone in a room with him, he... he did shit like this. He tried to seduce them. He wanted to get close to them, to be part of their goodness and their kindness, insinuating himself into their lives just in the same way he insinuated himself into Seth's arms.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Why couldn't he enjoy the closeness without wanting to be greedy, to get closer, to have more? In his heart of hearts he still did want to be a part of someone. An integral part of someone. And no matter how jaded he thought he was, when there were no drugs in him and no alcohol replacing the blood in his veins, he still wanted it—to be loved solely and exclusively, thoroughly and completely.

And Seth? Seth laid there like a plank. It made Alejo want to cry a little bit. He came on strong, he wouldn't deny it; most guys would've had him on his back by now. Or they would've pulled him overtop of them, indicating a certain willingness to get a little... freaky between the sheets. Alejo wasn't accustomed to someone laying there with him all over them and they just... kept talking.

The worst part was, the more Seth talked, the more he made it sound sexy. That was wild shit. Primal energy? Sexual. Adrenaline? Sexual. Oh he was confusing. It derailed Alejo, who—honestly didn't know what he was doing wrong. Or right? Was Seth not interested? But his nipple, it did react to that little teasing flick. Alejo knew what he was doing, after all.

Urgh.

And he was stinking cute. The imitation of his mother made Alejo laugh out loud, despite his confused state. It was good—it sounded just like every old Greek lady chastising her son. And that wink. Oh, it made his black little heart flip and flop in his chest. "Obviously you're good at it," Alejo grinned, unable to help it. His mood kept rising. He was baffled as hell but he also felt oddly... good? He was having a good time...? Being ignored physically. Wild shit.

He reached up to touch Seth's face too, as though inspecting it. "Hm. But don't take this the wrong way... You'd look good even with a black eye I think. Maybe some bruises..." It would make him seem even more manly with some battle scars, Alejo thought. God, he was so fucking dumb even thinking that. His thumb brushed against Seth's chin, through the short hairs of his beard. Alejo eased himself up and hovered over him.

"Maybe a split lip, too." The thumb swept up to nudge the curve of his lower lip, envisioning it bruised and split... and how much it would throb if he kissed it hard, if he ran his teeth over the poor abused area. Alejo bit his own lower lip hard. Shit. They were so close now. Close enough for him to nuzzle Seth, nose to nose.

[Seth Spiros]

"Can't make my mama cry."

He had to be good to make sure he didn't come home with a scar he couldn't get rid of. Naturally, mamas were gonna worry. And his mama did worry for him. But she was a nurse and she was accustomed to seeing bruises and cuts. Worse than that, working the ER.

What a weird way to look at things. Seth let him explore his face, though, apparently imagining Seth all beat to hell. Was that his kink or something? Maybe he and that goth freak were actually doing something consensual together. Seth's gaze dropped to the bandages at Alexo's throat.

"Then you should see me after a fight," he said finally, smiling as he looked back up at him as Alexo hovered over him. What... was he trying to do now? It was distracting, was what it was. "I've had my fair share of lumps, but I'm pretty good with first aid."

He sort of shut up, though, when a thumb ran over his lip. And his gaze couldn't help but be drawn to the way Alexo bit his own lip. Suddenly, he was glad he hadn't given up the jeans. He placed a hand on Alexo's chest to gently push him back down, so he wasn't hovering like that, looking at him like he was about to full on straddle him if he didn't do something about it.

"Hey."

[Alejandro Riviera]

Alejo wished with all his heart that he could agree to that—to not making his mama cry—but he had already failed. His mama had cried out all of her tears for him. She cried until she had none left, and then she pushed him out of her life, telling him that he was no longer her son. She told him she didn't care if he threw his life away, if she threw God away.

And Alejo... he shouted back. Why did God make him like this, then? In whose image did he craft Alejo? God wasn't shit! He wasn't even real!

That hurt her deeply, he knew. Even at the time, when he was nineteen and angry and scared and should have known better, with the world crashing down over his head, he knew he hurt her far more than he ever had by denouncing God. By denouncing her and her faith. Not long after that, Alejo left home—and then began his year-long descent into madness.

How did he pull himself out of that? He didn't remember anymore. It was too long ago and between then and now, there had been many mistakes, many regrets. A lot of lies, a lot of bad decisions. Like what he was doing now—bad decisions. And he felt it, too, that certain tension in the air between them. Seth's eyes were on his lips, he saw that tell-tale flicker. But rather than giving in to the urge to kiss him, Seth pushed him back. Away. Gently. Politely.

"Hi." Alejo fell back into his former position with his head on Seth's shoulder, and his once-naughty hand stilled finally. He let it drape across Seth's stomach. Comfortable. Safe. Warm. Unkissed. Oh, what a shame. "I think I like you," he said with almost childish simplicity as he strummed his fingers across Seth's side. "You're almost too nice. But I like that."

[Seth Spiros]

Hi, he said. It was kinda funny. Seth wanted to laugh but he was a little confused. What were they doing right now? It was some kind of game to Alexo. Maybe this was what he intended from the start but Seth thought it unwise to attempt starting up the engine when Alexo was clearly in some kind of weird limbo place. Seth knew some girls like him, who did the same thing. Tried to use sex to heal something inside that was broken. But sex didn't fix it. Sometimes it just made it worse. Seth didn't want to be somebody else's regret.

"You just met me," Seth said. He turned his head toward Alexo. A soft little hum. The finger strumming against his side felt good. Not necessarily sexual. Just... good. But he hadn't meant to make that sound and he turned his gaze back upward, at the ugly popcorn ceiling above them, at the nipple shaped light fixture.

"Heh. You can thank my mama for that."

The niceness was a mark of his good old mama. She taught him to be respectful. Funny, when he thought about his interests. How did a guy born into a family of scientists and nurses end up getting into MMA fighting? Simple; he had a lot of pent up emotions when he started. It was a great way to lighten up his mood, to use his body and to reach for an obtainable goal. Seth wasn't necessarily stupid but he wasn't studious. As a kid, he was thought to have ADD. He was that kid who couldn't sit still, who couldn't concentrate on a task that bored him. He was a physical kid, not a brainiac kid. He was the kid climbing the monkey bars and breaking his arm after he fell out of a tree.

"Do you miss New York?"

[Alejandro Riviera]

They were doing nothing right now and Alejo was both disappointed and relieved.

All those men. All of them in the past, when he came on to them, they took his offer gladly. Nobody ever passed up a chance at sex. Nobody, not ever. Never. Even ones who were borderline interested and only along for the shits and giggles let him in their pants because sex was... a physical release. It was purely biological, something people did to get that tension inside smoothed out, because they were bored, because it felt good. Sex didn't have to be personal.

And then there was Seth. Doctor Seth. Looking like a thug, acting like a true gentleman. There was a real charm about him and Alejo hadn't lied—he did like him. He didn't love him, he wasn't in love with the idea of him, he simply liked him. He liked what Seth was saying, what he was doing, what he was all about. There was nothing fake about him and that made him pure and good. A real good guy.

"That makes it more significant then," was his response as he tucked that little hum away for later. For a cold shower maybe. Nah—for a cold heart. If he ever needed something to warm him from the inside, he might recall this moment laying with Seth, making him utter that cute little noise of contentment. Since he appeared to like it, Alejo kept stroking his side, which was oddly calming for himself too.

Seth himself seemed restless; his gaze didn't want to stay in one place, didn't want to stay on Alejo too long. Ah, he was giving himself away. That was very telling but Alejo didn't make use of that information just now. He tucked it away for another time.

"Don't ever make your mama cry," he said softly and regretfully, even though Seth had just told him the same thing. "You'll regret it for the rest of your life." That was said so quietly that he almost just mouthed the words. Alejo curled up closer to him and sighed. New York, huh? Did he miss it? He had to think about that, honestly, but he was glad they had moved on from mamas and crying.

"I miss parts of it. The skyline is beautiful at sunrise or sunset, if you can catch it from up high, like on the roof of an apartment building. Ground level, not so much. I miss my neighborhood. There's this old married couple next door to where I lived with my b—my ex boyfriend. They'd always sit on their porch and people-watch and bicker. It was adorable. And some new families moved in, so last Halloween we had a lot of kids running around in cute little costumes." He lowered his voice like he was sharing a dirty secret. "We were the only people giving away full-sized candy bars, so they'd keep coming back and pretending they'd never been to our place. I think one kid came around four times!"

[Seth Spiros]

Huh. He hadn't thought of it that way. That Alexo might like him when he barely knew him. Was it more significant that way? Seth didn't have any hard and fast rules for that sort of thing. Sometimes, people just instantly clicked. Sometimes it was the exact opposite. Seth had lived the same number of years on this earth as Alexo; he had met people on both sides of the spectrum. Sometimes, there was just a sixth sense about that sort of thing. (Sort of like the ghost stories about the old library...)

"Yeah..." Seth agreed. Well, obviously. He said the same thing. The last thing he ever wanted to do was anything that would make his poor mama cry. She was the best person on the planet to him, but most people thought that about their mamas. He heard the genuine regret, though, in Alexo's voice. Sounded like he must have made his mama cry. Seth turned his head toward Alexo, his gaze sympathetic. Yeah...

"I like," he said slowly, with a smile forming, "that it's not the place you miss, but the people. You can find home anywhere you go as long as you stay that way."

[Alejandro Riviera]

There was that smile again, slow to form but beautiful once it formed fully. Alejo was a little star-struck in the moment. The smile, the uplifting words, they made his heart soar. His eyes stung for some dumb reason too, and he quickly pressed his face into Seth's shoulder to sniffle the heat and the sting away. His nose tickled something fierce; he sniffled again.

"Are you for real, Doctor Seth?" His voice might have sounded muffled, nasally with emotion. This wasn't possible, was it? For one person to be so wise and caring and sweet and charming and sexy and... just... like someone out of a romance novel. The perfect protagonist, come around to sweep the heroine off her dainty feet. But Alejo wasn't a dainty maiden. He was lonely and desperate, making poor life choices while hoping that someone would come along who could save him from himself.

Seth had something that most of the men who passed through his legs didn't have—compassion. He seemed to understand what Alejo needed to hear and he said those things without agenda. He didn't have to tell him pretty things to get into his pants, when Alejo had just about climbed all over him—to no avail. There didn't seem to be anything that Seth wanted from him, which was a definite first. It was... strange. Surreal.

[Seth Spiros]

"What?"

He lifted his head slightly because it sounded an awful lot like Alexo was crying. Did he say something wrong? He didn't mean to make him cry. Slowly, like he thought maybe Alexo was a skittish stray unused to human touch, he wrapped an arm around him. Gentle, though. Not like... trapping him. A guy like him had to be careful, really, what kind of signals he put out there.

"Hey." He had said it before, when he gently pushed Alexo back. But now it was a little softer, with a hint of concern laced through it. "Are you okay?"

It was a stupid question--Seth seemed to be doing great in that department, with the saying stupid things--but it wasn't really the question that mattered. It was the opening for the answer. Seth wasn't that stupid. He knew things weren't fine with Alexo. Nobody who was fine would have been found the way Alexo was at the club. Out of his mind, like he would rather be... gone. High. Seth had seen it in old friends and it was never good. Soon, the high was the only thing that made them even feel alive anymore. It was sad when people lost their spark like that. It was almost like they lost their soul, what made them... them.

[Alejandro Riviera]

See, this was the thing. Seth did everything right. Said all the right things to make him feel so much less shitty. And he probably didn't even know he was saying and doing it. The careful way he held on to Alejo was just what he needed in that moment. He didn't need to be grabbed or hugged tight when he was vulnerable and feeling fragile; he didn't want to be trapped in a hug. He just wanted someone to be tender with him, to know without having to be told that this was a poignant moment for him, and he needed gentle support.

He sniffled again and the tears went away. Alejo wasn't going to bawl in front of Seth; he was just overcome by emotions for a second. "I'm." He got stuck at—yeah, I'm okay. No, of course he wasn't okay. Look at him. Look at what happened that night, where he had gone. No highs, all lows. He sank to such a new low that he didn't even want to think about what it meant. He said it himself: he ought to have known better, but he never did. He never took himself to account for his own actions, never took responsibility.

"Are all Greek guys like you?" He asked out of desperation, half-laughing, half in disbelief. "I've been looking in the wrong places if they are." Trying really hard not to answer the question. He knew what Seth wanted to know and he didn't want to get into it. It... was shameful and embarrassing and he didn't want Seth to think any less of him. Not that he could, having already witnessed Alejo in the club.

...but he did... and he didn't leave. He stayed around, actually, doing the opposite of what most people would have. Most would have judged Alejo and passed him off as a junkie and an immoral slut. But Seth, he leapt into the fray, he helped (he also helped break poor Dakota's nose too). That was significant too. And now he was here laying with Alejo, holding him tenderly, asking if he wanted to talk. It was an invitation, Alejo realized.

"...no. I'm not okay. I haven't been okay since... since I was disowned for coming out. I was nineteen. Just got out of the academy. Youngest one to graduate, you know? My parents were so proud. Dad cried at the convocation ceremony, told me he loved me and had never been so proud of me in his life. And I-I thought. If they loved me so much, it'd be okay. I could tell them the truth and they'd still... love me." He trailed off to take in a shuddering breath. Somehow it was easier to go on once he started talking about it. Seth, he... had that effect on Alejo, apparently.

"Well I was wrong. I left home and I-I haven't been back since. And it's been one terrible life decision after another, Seth. Oh my god you don't even—you can't imagine the shit I've done to myself. I had. Judah. My ex. He was the best thing that ever happened to me and I fucked it all up. Slept with another man. Cheated on him. And he still wanted to stay with me but I... I'm not good enough to be with someone like that. Someone that good. Judah was a good guy, Seth. Like you. I don't deserve good guys anymore. I can't..."

[Seth Spiros]

Seth gave it a moment's think and then came up with, "Nope."

Even if it depended on Alexo's take on "like him," nobody was like anybody else. That was as simple as it was. No way could Seth vouch for every one of his fellow Greek men. They had their share of assholes, too, and he didn't want that to be Alexo's takeaway from this. Although if he decided to go looking for Greek men after this, that was his prerogative. Seth could only be flattered(?) that he inspired him in some way. Hopefully... not a harmful one.

It seemed like Alexo did need to talk, though. Aha. Seth thought so. Well... it didn't take a damn genius to figure that out. But Seth knew (from experience, actually) that sometimes there just weren't any ears when you needed them most. Seth also found that most people didn't care to be the ear. But Seth didn't mind.

And so he was the ear, soaking in Alexo's words and just listening. Really listening. Between the lines. The happiest day of his life turned into the worst day of his life. The people he counted on most in a delicate point of his life rejected him--or Alexo perceived it that way. Seth didn't know the details but it didn't matter what the details actually were because this was Alexo's truth, not theirs. Whatever they did or said hurt Alexo in an irreparable way.

Seth lightly brushed Alexo's arm as he took in a shuddering breath.

So it spiraled out of control from that one big, defining moment. Alexo could see it but he felt like whatever his parents thought about him was true so he kept punishing himself for... being himself. Seth let the words hang in the air for a moment, to sit in them, to let them sink beneath the skin. This was somebody who, when asked what he missed about his last home, was the people. Not the place. People... were important to him. He just wasn't letting them be.

"I think," he said after some time to think about it, "you deserve more than you're letting yourself believe." How did he put this? Seth had to formulate it properly, because it felt very obvious to him when he looked at it from the outside--but that was the problem with being mired in your own thoughts and feelings. The obvious really wasn't.

"People who don't deserve good things don't say things like 'I don't deserve this.' It's... like, the opposite. Really bad people believe they deserve everything they want. You see?"

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Oh my god stop," Alejo half-laughed, half-cried into Seth's shoulder. He had buried his face away again after his diatribe ended, heart hammering as he realized that he'd unloaded so much baggage onto Seth that he could've passed for the luggage carousel in terminal 4 at LAX--coincidentally where Alejo also lost one of his pieces of luggage, and was still waiting for them to find it and send it to him here.

This was NOT how he envisioned his night ending up! If he'd had his way--or if Kota had had his way--Alejo would be six feet under right now! Instead he was curled up with a literal piece of human perfection whose words moved him to tears. And they were exactly what he wanted to hear, or maybe even what he needed to hear--even if Seth only said it to reassure and sooth him. But somehow Alejo didn't think so.

Seth meant what he said and that sincerity helped Alejo to believe it, too. That maybe he didn't do anything wrong when he tried to tell people who he really was, and that others simply couldn't accept the truth--but that wasn't on him. That was on them. They took themselves out of his life, they didn't throw him out of theirs, and there was a real distinction to be made there.

"You." He couldn't accurately describe the sense of relief he felt. No one had ever said something like this to him because he never gave them half a chance to. He just laughed his pain away, drank it away, smoked it into the heavens. Even the people who knew didn't know that it tore him up so badly inside; they just thought he was over it because he told them. Eh, it's cool. I'm in a better place now anyway. But he wasn't--he wasn't in a better place at all.

Alejo breathed in deep. He clung to Seth like a lifeline and breathed, in and out, slowly, deeply. "You're really real?"

[Seth Spiros]

"Stop what?"

He watched Alexo burrow into him again, like he was maybe embarrassed about something? Seth wondered if he hadn't worded things correctly, if it wasn't quite coming across as he'd hoped. Because it did sound like Alexo might have made a little crying sound but it also could have been a laugh. Seth wasn't certain; it could have been both. Was he hysterical? Was it the drugs coming out of his system? But he seemed pretty lucid when he talked about his problems with his family and his feelings of abandonment.

Yes, me. Seth waited. And he waited for a long, silent beat. He could feel that--the breath that Alexo took in. He felt it against his whole body, like maybe... Alexo had been holding in so much and now he was letting it all out on that breath, as he slowly let it go. It seemed to Seth, a lot of the tension left him then, too. So Seth smiled. Good. That was his hope. They were getting somewhere.

"Yes, I'm really real." The smile translated into his voice as he spoke, even if Alexo wasn't looking at him. "You can pinch me if it makes me more real."

Actually, Seth thought belatedly, the dreamer was the one who had to pinch themselves. But he also thought that if he was just a hallucination, pinching him would suffice. Because if he wasn't there, then he wouldn't have anything to pinch!

[Alejandro Riviera]

Alejo smiled at the sound of mirth in Seth's voice. "...I'm not pinching you." He wasn't hurting a hair on that precious head of Seth's. Someone this good and true and compassionate needed to be protected. Alejo finally did reveal his face, once he stopped sounding and feeling hysterical. Instead of a pinch, he slid a hand up against Seth's jaw and leaned up to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you. I needed to hear that." His response really wasn't appropriate for the gravity of the moment, but now Alejo was sober and less emotional. His lips lingered a beat too long before he laid back down, smiling up at Seth. "Maybe I did need a superhero tonight."

He had been so down and so low for so long that he forgot what it felt like to be happy. Sometimes he was less sad, but that wasn't the same thing at all. The drugs and alcohol and pain helped to distract from the brokenness inside but they only offered temporary reprieve. They were nowhere near what he needed to truly begin picking himself up. Losing Judah hit him the hardest, too; he stopped believing in himself completely after that.

It just went to show how much that good man meant to him, though. Judah really... truly loved him. And Alejo let him go. He could have maybe tried to get Judah back but... a little part of him still felt inadequate. And besides, Judah was in love with that other man and things were just too weird now to ever be the same again. With a sigh, he closed his eyes.

"What a night."

[Seth Spiros]

Okay. It was just a kiss. Not even a real kiss, actually. A gentle... peck to the cheek. But it still made Seth's ears heat up. Funny how something so chaste could make him feel... something less chaste. Not anything like he was stirring in the groin area or anything like that. Just that it made him feel like he was twelve years old and harboring a crush on somebody that just noticed him for the first time. Foolishly happy. Absurdly... pleased.

"You're welcome." He almost did something dopey like... pat him on the head but he refrained. Somehow, that seemed patronizing. Alexo shared something deeply personal with him and Seth did his utmost best to sooth frayed nerves and maybe, hopefully, help heal Alexo from the inside out. If he had somebody to be his ears and let out what ailed him, he could heal from it. Because now he could look on it and reflect without so much pain in his heart. Now he could see it from another viewpoint.

Seth only smiled at the superhero comment. That was partly why he fought, too. Not because he wanted to become a superhero or some kind of vigilante. But watching them as a kid, that made him want to be cool and strong and tough. That was what got him interested in MMA fighting down the line. The other shit--the learning to listen, to digest, and dispense some kind of helpful advice--that came from somewhere else.

His papa. He was Seth's ears growing up. And he learned from what his father said--but mostly from his actions. Whenever Seth or his brother or even his mother had a problem or something that ate them up inside, it was to him they went to. Seth watched him, and he learned--to listen and not to hear; hearing somebody wasn't the same as listening to them. It was something that was nurtured in him by his father, just as his tendency to respectfulness came from his mother.

It hurt his heart, though, watching as Alexo closed his eyes, to know that Alexo couldn't go to his family to be heard--to really have them listen and understand who he was. But maybe... someday they could reconcile. It was hard to believe that such loving parents could throw away their son forever. Seth gently stroked Alexo's arm as he turned his head into him, relaxing and drifting off into sleep.