All I wanna do is kill somebody

[Seth Spiros]

"Is that what you want?" Seth asked. "To be saved?"

Hard to tell; but it seemed like Alexo didn't want to be fixed or saved. He admitted aloud that whatever fucked up thing was happening between him and Goth Kid was consensual. Alexo wanted somebody to rip him into pieces. It didn't much make sense to Seth, because he saw those as two separate things. Seth enjoyed fighting--there was something to be said about tapping into that primal part of him.

But when it came to matters of the bedroom, he wanted a good time. Perhaps he wasn't a totally gentle lover. He was enthusiastic. He had lifted women up against walls and fucked them while they wrapped their legs tight around his waist. But it was... sexy torture they engaged in. Not... trying to eat each other alive.

"Eh," he said. "I'm all right."

Good guy wasn't exactly the term he'd use. Seth was well aware of his own shortcomings. Nobody was perfect and he wasn't going to pretend that he was. It just happened that in this instance, he had become a "hero" of sorts.

"What do you actually want?"

[Alejandro Riviera]

To be saved...

"I'm usually the one doing the saving, believe it or not. I'm a cop." There was something of the old Alejandro in his smile. He wasn't used to being the one in distress—even if he didn't know he was in distress. Mostly he was fine being a cop, responding to emergencies and making house calls to check up on people. Sometimes he was acknowledged for that and it felt... fine. Good.

Seth didn't look like a superhero, this was true, with his tattoos and tank top and with that overall fierce appearance. Maybe Alejo just lucked out that tonight of all nights, Seth felt like playing superhero for him. Maybe tonight of all nights that was a bad time to do it, because the person he saved didn't necessarily ask for it. Alejo wasn't looking for a hero, this was true; he was looking for someone to make him feel like a hero again, instead of a zero.

"Hm? What do I want?" He eyed the painkillers that Seth had confiscated. More of those. Definitely. Now that he had failed to die, he didn't want to suffer until the next time he had another chance to wrap someone else's hands around his throat. Wasn't he just a ball of contradictions? In the throes of pain he wanted pain. When he'd come back down to earth, when the high went away, he wanted to be numb.

"I want to..." Alejo's voice faltered for a moment and real pain crossed his face. Not the physical pain from the wipes but the pain from deep down inside that made him feel ugly. His jaw tightened. "I want to be a part of someone. Forever. But there's no one like that here for me." And so salvation had to come from the bottom of a glass or inside a little baggy bought from a skeevy dealer at the corner of 3rd Street.

"Let's get a drink." He was finished and had cleaned himself up as best as he could. Alejo tossed the bloodied, used wipes into the garbage can nearby and winced. Still hurt, but he wouldn't die from a sore ass. Never had. "I think we're cute enough to bum a couple of free ones off Marge. Did you see her checking you out earlier?"

[Seth Spiros]

A... cop? Seth raised a brow in disbelief. This kid that looked like one punch could take him out... was a cop? Seth didn't see it. He really looked so... delicate. He had that little elfin chin, those big crystal eyes, and Seth didn't want to admit it but... probably the cutest little nose he'd ever seen. The freckles probably helped with the youthful appearance. Seth stopped studying him, somehow feeling... in the wrong for looking at somebody in pain in... that way.

"I never would have guessed," he said, unsure if Alexo's words came from drugs or maybe he was teasing him. There was a smile, though. That was encouraging. His gaze followed Alexo's to the first aid kit, where Seth had placed the pill bottle. Seth tensed, ready to grab it away from him at a moment's notice. Leaving a hand on the side of the case--just in case, Seth scrutinized Alexo. He looked to be in real pain.

Part of someone. Forever. Just somebody looking for love, then. They were all in it for something like that. At least, most people Seth knew wanted a good, steady relationship. Somebody that made them happy. It wasn't an unreasonable request. He just had to be patient. He was young! He had a whole lifetime to find that special someone.

"Hey."

Far be it from Seth to play babysitter or anything but... He reached out and held onto Alexo's hand before he went anywhere. It was a little awkward. He had meant to take his wrist but here he was, with his hand around Alexo's hand.

"Maybe skip the alcohol tonight." As much as a drink sounded so good right now--Seth was an occasional and social drinker more than an alcoholic, but even he could use a drink when stressed--he didn't think it was a great idea for the apparently depressed and suicidal guy to drink.

[Alejandro Riviera]

Yup, a cop. Yup, he knew that surprised look all too well. It was the babyface—it was always the babyface that threw people off. Him, a cop? Him with his boyish smile and easy laugh, a police officer rounding up criminals and doing stakeouts at three in the morning to bust drug rings? Yup. Him, Alejo, a cop. He would have laughed had his ass not throbbed so hard as to make everything seem... very much less amusing.

"I'll show you my badge if you really want proof," he smiled, shaking his head. A part of him did want to make a dive for the pills but he knew realistically he'd probably just flop off the chaise lounge and land face-first on the ground. Not worth the embarrassment. Besides, ten was a good number of pills to have in him. He felt a little better already—or maybe that was the drugs steadily exiting his system. Maybe both.

He almost got up, but Seth took his hand. Weird. Alejo looked down at the sudden gesture of concern, not sure what to make of it. Words of concern, too, came from Seth. Doctor Seth, hm? Hm, as Jack would have said. Hm.

"You really are worried." Alejo didn't know why he sounded so surprised. It was just... that they didn't even know one another. They were strangers. Seth's work was done the moment he got Alejo off the wall and into this back room. He could have called 911 for an ambulance, and then left. Marge was outside too; she could've taken care of him. But here they were. Holding hands.

Slowly, Alejo turned his hand around to hold his hand properly. "Okay... Then what does Doctor Seth recommend?"

[Seth Spiros]

"You have it on you?" Seth asked dubiously.

It was still hard to believe this guy could be a cop. And why would a cop be caught getting butt fucked on a club dance floor? It was all so... out of this world. Was it part of some kind of ploy? Was he hoping to rope in some criminal? If so, why didn't he cuff that jackass? He could have thrown him into jail for assaulting him--in every way a man could be assaulted, at that!

Yes. Their hands were. They were holding hands. It was extremely awkward for Seth, who could feel the heat in his ears. He wasn't much of a blusher but his ears were the sole exception. They were the dead giveaway every goddamn time.

See, this was another thing about Seth Spiros, aside from hating seeing people being taken advantage of. He was new to men. He had only enough encounters with men to count on one hand. He wasn't sure he'd call himself fluid. Maybe possibly bi. He didn't struggle with his sexuality. He just... he was accustomed to women. If this were a woman, he could easily have flirted with her. Since it was a man, he wasn't sure if that's how it worked. That's how new he was to it.

Whu.

Seth tried not to look down as Alexo's hand turned in his to hold onto his hand, like they were actually holding hands. Not just one person grabbing onto another person to keep them from doing something bad for them.

"Well, first, let those pills do their job unless you want me to toss you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes again." In the moment, it had been what he had to do. Now it would just be awkward.

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Nope." It was back at his motel, under his pillow with his gun. It had been sitting there for the better part of a week, actually, taken out only once to show Marge because she insisted on seeing it for herself. She even checked the serial number on it to make sure it was real—she was quite thorough, indeed she was. But other than that, the badge stayed where it was, out of sight but not out of mind.

Honestly, Alejo didn't even know how much of a cop he was right now. He knew he had done terrible things—tampered with evidence, led the feds astray, all to protect Jack. And while he didn't regret it, he knew his actions had real consequences. Jack wasn't killing people anymore (that he knew of) but if he did... If Brayden was his next victim... Yet Alejo didn't believe it. No one could hurt Brayden. He was just... some kind of exception to the rules. Even Alejo who should have hated him for fundamentally changing Jack could only muster up the slightest bit of irritation maybe, which was taken away very quickly by a bowl of soup.

He could have used a bowl of that magic crack soup right now...

But no. Someone was holding his hand—wrong, he was holding their hand now—and being all concerned about him and god, the guilt. It was always the guilt. Alejo laughed finally and he didn't know why he found that so funny. "Actually, that was the best part of the night for me. The view was very nice." Looking straight down at a firm, toned ass? Yeah. Even when he was just coming off of an exquisite fucking, he could appreciate a nice ass and Seth had just that. Broad shoulders, tapered waist, nice curve to his back—Alejo could just see himself making that back arch off a table or a bed. Hm.

"I'll be your sack of potatoes any day, baby." His thumb brushed idly over Seth's fingers, still holding on tight. "Since I can't drink, can I... have a friend walk me home?" He looked up at Seth with a gentler smile. "I'll show you my badge. It's back in my motel room."

[Seth Spiros]

Eyebrows raised. What was he laughing about? Seth looked down at the hand in his finally. They didn't look bad together. The hands, that is. Quickly, he glanced back up, remembering the way Alexo touched his arm, tracing his tattoos like he'd never seen one close up. His arm felt it still, the ghost of the sensation.

"Thanks?"

Seth had shown up to the club in a tank top and jeans. Nothing special. To be honest, Seth wasn't usually one to dress up unless he absolutely had to. Hell, when it was just him back at his place in the Greenwood apartments, he walked around in the nude because he could--and it felt good and natural. (He was definitely the man who went to nude beaches in Europe.)

So when it came to his body, he wasn't shy. Although he did find it a little surprising that a drugged out, recently strangled cop(?) had time to notice his assets while being carried off from his attacker. This one was wild.

"I can take you home," he said. "Well, to your... motel."

It sounded a little seedy, if he was honest but Seth could take care of himself and he wasn't worried about things going in some untoward direction. Cop versus MMA fighter? Not much to be scared of there, if Alexo even was a cop.

"By walk you home, did you mean carry you or are you good to walk on your own?"

[Alejandro Riviera]

Those ears kept getting brighter and redder, didn't they? Alejo thought nothing of it at first but after a moment he noticed them. Huh. It was definitely not hot in the back room, so... huh. There was something charming about that. Something almost innocent in the way they held hands. Kiddy stuff, right? Holding hands, asking for a friend. Alejo wasn't whacked out of his gourd on pretty blue pills but he felt a weird little high in the moment that he wasn't entirely sure was the lingering effects of drugs.

Maybe he just liked the idea of a giant of a man with tattoos all over him, who went up to poor Dakota and punched him twice, blushing over a little hand-holding.

"I can walk." Hopefully. He tried to stand and... mm. Not ideal. But he didn't fall, either, which was some consolation. Alejo leaned against Seth, though, clinging to his hand to keep himself upright. "I might need a little help... though..." Once he started walking, it would get easier. He knew from personal experience; the pain would be sharp and excruciating, but then it would dull as his body grew used to it. It wouldn't feel good by any stretch of the imagination but it would become bearable. Besides, Alejo was a big boy. He could take the punishment.

"Oh... I'm not wearing a sweater..." He noticed that very late in the game, he realized. Ah—the sweater had been shed on the dance floor and was probably trampled to pieces by now. Alejo sighed. Oh well. "If it gets cold, fair warning, I will hug you for warmth. So. Be prepared for a lot of hugs I guess."

[Seth Spiros]

"...all right."

What was Seth here for except to help? He'd come here to have a few drinks and just chill for a while, after his hours spent guarding that creepy ass library. Sometimes, he wondered if the pay and the gig was too good to be true. Some part of him really felt like some shit was happening in there that he didn't understand. An old spooky library... why did it even need a bodyguard? They said it was to keep adventurous kids out--this town apparently had a lot of those--and Seth did see his fair share of kids trying to snoop around it.

But nothing could stop that weird feeling that he was constantly being watched. That strange crackle in the air around the old library. Definitely something dodgy going on there but... a job was a job.

Taking care of somebody was a nice distraction, too, though. If he wasn't going to drink, then he could help his fellow man out. And although he was curious and dying to know what really happened between the two of them--why did he want to die so much? Was he really asking to die, then? At the moment, Alexo seemed docile enough. He didn't look like he was about to do something crazy like throw himself off a building. But Seth also knew that they didn't always look like they were going to... right before they did.

Seth looked down at his own lack of a sweater. But he was used to being out in a state of undress like this. The cold didn't really bother him much. Not the cold here, anyway. He'd been to Russia. That was cold.

"Thanks for the warning," he said. He wasn't sure what he'd do if the hugs came out of nowhere. Probably the same thing he'd do even with a warning. Take it.

Back out in the loud club, Seth nodded at Marge to let her know he had things handled. He looked around for the creep but if he was still in the club, he was nowhere that Seth could see. Well good. Hopefully he was banned from the club from here on out.

"Which motel are you staying at?"

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Non-consensual hugs count as harassment, I'm just covering my bases," Alejo said purely to be a little asshole, because that didn't need to be said but he said it anyway. Vestiges of drugs and alcohol in his blood. He'd claim that was the reason for it any day. Still, it felt nice to banter a little bit. Where did that somber mood from earlier go? God, he was so fucked up. Up and down, hot and cold, his mood swings were only getting worse each time he pushed himself that much further to the edge of oblivion.

Outside, Marge was by the door, apparently having been peeking in on them. She didn't even look ashamed or embarrassed. She did, though, peer hard at Seth's chest area, muttered "Oh Jesus fucking Christ, not again," rolled her eyes up to the heavens and let them pass. Alejo was shocked; he expected her to kick him so hard in the balls, his mom felt it.

But no. She let them go with a tame warning about hunting Seth down if he hurt Alejo. Aww... papa bear. So sweet. Alejo blew her a kiss as he left, telling her to let Jack know that he was going back to his own motel room that night, so that neither of them would worry unnecessarily about him. Or call the SWAT team out to find him.

"The motel in Little Asia." There was only one, thankfully. Alejo staggered off down the street with him, feeling as if he'd... played out this scene before. Three times. Twice with Jack, and now with Doctor Seth over here, who was very warm and very solid and very reassuring in both of those attributes. Alejo hugged him at a stoplight—he swore he did this before with Jack. Was he having some kind of time rewind problem? Was this destined to repeat on an endless loop?

"I'm making a lot of poor life choices out here, Doctor Seth." The light turned and he disengaged to totter across the street. Too bad he had to let go; it felt nice to hold on to someone solid and to be reassured that they were real and there. Not every night had to end in a bender, with him high off coke and doused in booze. Some nights, he wanted to stagger semi-paralytically down the street with a new friend. "I think I'm having a quarter-life crisis. Twenty-five is way too young to be doing what I'm doing, you know?"

[Seth Spiros]

"Huh?"

Seth looked down at his own chest, as if there was something visible sitting on his shirt. Or like, if he had hard nipples or something. (He didn't.) He raised his brow but if Marge had an explanation for her outburst, she wasn't sharing with the rest of them.

"Oh I know the one."

Seth stayed there for a while, before he got an apartment. Greenwood was all right--it was no fancy schmancy Sunrise but he liked it well enough. The handyman was a weird kid, though. As for the motel in Little Asia, it was all right... in a motel sort of way. But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't excited to get an apartment and leave the motel behind. There were some seedy people that hung around the area. Although Greenwood wasn't that much better for that.

"Really?" Seth said, doing his best not to sound like he'd noticed. Hard not to, though. Most people would classify getting fucked up at a club--literally--as a poor life choice. Seth blinked in surprise, then caught up to Alexo, who seemed determined to walk on his own two feet across the street. Seth kept near. Just in case.

"You're 25?" Shit. What. Honestly, Seth was half worried he was underage. He looked like he could still be in high school, for fuck's sake. But he was 25! He let out a low whistle to emphasize his surprise. "I'm 25. I thought you were like 18."

[Alejandro Riviera]

"You're 25? I'm 25!" Typical half-drunk conversations out here. Alejo laughed, delighted for no reason that their ages were the same. He took Seth's hand again in his. It was nice. Palm to palm, fingers linking, warmth communicated through one very small point but it spread out from there up his arm, up into his bare chest. Ooh he was cold! But also warm inside. It was strange; he chalked it up to the drugs.

"Is that why you didn't think I was a cop? Cause I look like your little brother's best friend from next door?" His grin was somewhat sly. He used to be someone's little brother's best friend from next door. Until he fucked that best friend's older brother. Then everything sort of fell apart after that, and Alejo was left to add another regret to the pile of regrets he'd been storing up all his life.

Alejo ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Nope. I'm 25. I should know better... But I don't." And he kept disappointing the people around him who cared about him, and that just drove him even more to drugs and alcohol to blunt the shame and the guilt. Why did these people even hang around? Jack, Marge, sweet Brayden, even Dakota--everyone kept coming to him. They circled him, faces he grew to like, to love, and yet none of them were the right kind of face. They weren't what he needed.

He stopped at another red light and looked up at Seth, taking him in. Handsome. Mature, certainly--but not old-looking. He looked a respectable 25. Kind. Nice. A good guy. Alejo sighed. Another good guy, huh? He drew closer and rested his head against Seth's shoulder and briefly closed his eyes. He didn't know if he said it out loud, but he thought it. "You should run while you can, Doctor Seth." Alejo was no good for anybody anymore.

[Seth Spiros]

Seth laughed. He couldn't help himself. One single shot of alcohol in him, that was all he got. But he found it amusing as hell that they both said the same damn thing. And Alexo, he laughed, too. And it was a cute laugh. Damn... why was it a cute laugh. For fuck's sake, man. Get it together.

"Possibly...?" Seth said, scratching his cheek in mild embarrassment. So he got the guy's age wrong. So what? Fair enough. He did have that boy-next-door look about him. Squeaky clean, despite the bandages on his throat and shoulder. His bottom lip, too. Looked a little... Seth glanced away, clearing his throat and watching a little plume of white breath take to the air. It was pretty cold out, wasn't it? But the walking felt good.

"Who really knows better, though?" Seth asked, because he sure as fuck didn't.

They stopped. Another red light. And in the glow, Alexo looked... soft. Bathed in a reddish glow. And tired. He looked so tired for somebody who was the same age as he was. Tentatively, Seth slid an arm around Alexo's upper back, not wanting to touch his shoulders, not wanting to get too low, either.

"Why? What am I running from?"

[Alejandro Riviera]

That was cute, the way Seth scratched his cheek. Boyish, Alejo would have called it. He knew cute guys who did the same thing, or they would rub the bridge of their nose or the backs of their necks, in that 'aww shucks' kind of way so typical of small-town boys. Was Seth a small-town boy? He had that accent—it wasn't a regional accent, but a very foreign one. Alejo didn't even know his last name, or where he came from, for god's sake.

But he knew he was attracted to Seth, and he thought Seth was attracted to him right back. The care he took with him, the way he held Alejo's hand so protectively, the arm now around him, keeping him close and safe and warm, that didn't happen just because. And he kept looking at Alejo and then looking away, embarrassed to be caught. How... innocent, Alejo thought. Seth was very innocent despite outward appearances.

Funny how that could happen. Alejo outwardly innocent, inwardly a demon. Seth who looked like a hardened criminal, sweet and charming, naive in many ways. Alejo looked at him and saw him in a new light. He puzzled over it, marvelled at it as they moved on. "Running... from me." His arm slid around Seth's waist too, both to steady himself and to maintain that comfortable closeness.

"You're criminally cute, Doctor Seth. It's my job to catch you and bring you in."

[Seth Spiros]

From... him.

Well, he did seem like maybe he was a troublemaker. He had a mischievous air about him. But Seth wasn't fearing for his life or anything. Should he be? He raised an eyebrow as he looked at this sweet kid hugging him like he was his personal teddy bear. Hard to see anything there to run from.

And.
What.

"Are you... You're flirting with me."

Of course he is, dumb-ass. Nobody was criminally cute. Nobody got arrested for that kind of thing. It was a play on his job. As a cop. Which Seth still had a hard time envisioning but maybe that was part of his job, too. Maybe he was part of that division that caught creeps. Maybeeeee that was what he was doing back there with that goth idiot. Shit.

Seth was not sure what to do with any of this information. So. He just. Sort of gently stroked Alexo's arm. And then the light changed and they were walking. To the motel. Together. This just wasn't his usual deal. Not that he had any wayward intentions or anything. He thought the poor guy could use a damn break.