| Alex visits EST NYC and sees a free show.
||[Sep. 25th, 2011|09:30 pm]
[ Current. Alex vists the NYC branch. starksands is there. Players Only. ]|
He’s been in New York for almost a week now, and other than the Straw Dogs premiere, which sucked on so many levels he doesn't even want to think about it, Alex hasn’t done a damn thing but hang out. He’d gone to lunch earlier with a friend; that was it.
Now it is late evening, and he is sitting on the couch at Stark and PJ’s, alone.
PJ is out, filming, and won’t be back till late.
Stark is who knows where, doing whatever the hell it is he’s doing these days.
Alex is bored. Out of his mind.
He flips distractedly through stations on the television, but nothing peaks his interest. He pokes around the fridge and various cabinets in the kitchen, not really hungry but willing to eat just to have something to do. He finds the only food his friends have readily available is peanut butter and jelly, and rolls his eyes.
After another few minutes of sitting and staring out the window at the city, Alex goes into his room and grabs his MacBook. He brings it out into the living room and settles himself on the window ledge, stretching out his legs and resting his computer in his lap.
He’s not even sure what he’s planning to do; maybe email his family, maybe look up porn, it’s not quite clear. When he opens the browser, though, he gets an idea.
Why look up porn when he could have something so much better?
Without even really thinking about it, he finds himself logging in and looking up the address of the Establishment’s New York branch. As an afterthought, he decides to call one of the club’s cars as well, figuring he really doesn’t need photos out there of him entering a place like that, however inconspicuous the place may seem.
You just never fucking know.
Some time later, Alex walks into the bar at the NYC club. He stops at the bar and gets a drink, then he finds an empty table, in a somewhat darker corner of the bar, and settles himself in the seat. He would never admit to it, but he’s still a little skittish and wants to make sure he can see what’s coming; he doesn’t want any surprises.
Alex lets his eyes wander the room slowly, casually taking in each of the other people in the bar with him. There are a few that peak his interest, but they seem to be already involved, or at the very least in conversation, with someone else. Everyone, however, seems to be stealing glances in the opposite direction.
Alex swivels his head to see what the fuss is about. When he sees, he does actually understand. On the opposite side of the room, at one of the other tables, is a couple engaged in some public play. Some very hot public play, Alex’s decides fairly quickly.
The sub is face down against the table; he is cuffed at his wrists and his ankles. His face is turned away from Alex, but his body is sinful, and from where Alex is sitting, the guy has the best ass he’s ever seen. The Dom is… well, it’s more what the Dom is doing, really. He is fucking the sub’s ass with an unknown number of fingers, while his other hand is using a flogger to rain blows down all over the sub’s body.
Alex’s dick gives a little twitch in appreciation for the scene playing out in front of him. He watches as the Dom says something with a grin, then pulls his hand out and spanks the sub’s ass hard. Then he takes up the flogger for real, focusing on the sub’s back and ass, setting a slow, even pace.
Alex glances around the room, watching the other people who are watching the scene as well. And, okay, so maybe this whole kinky-public-sex thing wasn’t so bad after all.
Alex looks back over, and sees the Dom roughly flipping the sub over so he’s now laying on his back. When the Dom moves to the other side of the table, Alex’s breath catches in his throat. All the blood drains from his face, and goes straight to his already half-hard cock. Alex can finally see the sub’s face.
His first reaction is jealousy; a flash of blind, white-hot jealousy. But before he stalks across the room and rips the other man’s head off, Alex reminds himself he has no place being jealous. Stark isn’t his anymore, and hasn’t been for a long time.
His second reaction is to think, maybe he’s dreaming. So he bites down hard on his lip, just as the flogger comes down on Stark’s chest, and Stark lets out a strangled moan.
He bites down so hard, he almost draws blood. Clearly, not a dream.
So this was really happening. Stark was really at the club, in the middle of the fucking bar, letting this other guy do all sorts of things to him… and Alex was really here, watching it happen. Some part of it felt wrong, somehow. Even though Stark and his partner weren’t exactly being discrete, anyone could watch them, Alex is pretty sure Stark hadn’t expected him to be there.
The part of Alex that is turned on beyond comprehension wins out over the part of him that’s concerned for his friend’s privacy, or lack thereof.
His cock is so hard, it’s pressing painfully against the confines of his jeans. He quickly unbuttons and unzips his jeans, sighing softly and closing his eyes for a split second as he slides his hand under the waistband of his briefs to wrap around himself.
When he opens his eyes again, they lock onto Stark’s face, flushed pink with his desire, eyes blown wide open. Alex remembers that look very well. He grunts softly as he begins to stroke his cock, matching the rhythm of his hand to the rhythm of the flogger on Stark’s body.
Almost reluctantly, he lets his gaze travel down from Stark’s face to his cock, which is hard and jutting up proudly from his body. Stark was obviously enjoying this. Alex allows his brain to ponder that fact for a moment, and it tears a quiet moan from his throat. His hand picks up speed, and he swipes his palm over the head, coating it with pre cum, easing the glide of his hand on his cock.
Alex closes his eyes again for several moments, letting his own memories of Stark take over, each one flashing in his mind, clear as the day it happened. He has a lot of favorite memories of Stark and himself that have gotten him through a lot of lonely nights. Him and Stark, that first night on the couch in his condo in Namibia. Him and Stark and their druken beach sex on Stark's birthday. Fucking Stark up against the door of his hotel room. Stark blowing him up against the side of the fucking Humvee one night while the crew unfucked some situation with the lighting...
Alex’s eyes open just in time to see the flogger come down hard on the inside of Stark’s thigh, just below his balls, and hear Stark cry out.
Fuck. He wishes they’d added this to the list.
Oddly, Alex finds himself watching the Dom, who he doesn’t find very attractive at all. Studying might be a better word, because that’s really what he’s doing. Alex tries to memorize everything about the other man and his actions. He’s fascinated by what he’s watching, and he wants to know and remember everything.
He wants to be the one to have Stark at his mercy.
Someone comes by and asks if Alex would like another drink. Alex doesn’t even look at them, just shakes his head and grunts something that could at least reasonably be considered no. His eyes never leave the scene across the room. The Dom keeps the same pace, but the blows seem to become harder, until finally Stark cries out, “Please, sir.” His voice is strained, and full of need, and loud enough for everyone to hear.
Alex almost comes right then, and has to bite his lip to stifle his moan.
The Dom smiles, and ceases his assault on Stark’s body. He says something to Stark, and Stark swallows hard and nods his head, then says something back. The Dom’s smile turns to a smirk, and he wraps one hand around Stark’s cock. Alex whimpers and squeezes his own, his other hand gripping the edge of the table.
This is all getting to be too much...
The Dom keeps talking while he jerks Stark off, and Alex can see Stark moaning with pleasure, even though he can’t hear it all from his position. He watches as Stark’s limbs pull against the cuffs, and his hips push up into the other man’s hand. His memory and his imagination fill in the rest.
Alex imagines that it’s his hand on Stark, pulling him towards orgasm. He imagines all the filthy things he would say to Stark if he were in the Dom’s position. He hears Stark begging Alex to fuck him, hears him scream Alex’s name as he comes.
The sight of Stark’s hips jerking up wildly, as streams of come shoot up and onto his chest, pushes Alex over the edge. He comes with a soft, surprised gasp, free hand still gripping the table. He glances down, somewhat embarrassed, at the mess he’s just made and sets to cleaning himself up as best he can, subtly. He manages well enough, and zip up his pants after rearranging himself appropriately.
He’s still breathing heavily, and he wets his lips as he looks back across the room toward Stark. The Dom is cleaning him up, and after a few moments they collect their things and head off toward the back, Alex presumes to one of the private rooms.
The show, it seems, is over.
Alex tries not to be disappointed. But when he looks around the room again, no one peaks his interest. Not even those he considered the first time around. Alex sighs, but he really should go home anyway. He could use a shower, and he really needs a change of underwear. And a lot of fucking time to think.
The apartment is still empty when he gets back, and Alex heads straight for the shower. He stays there under the spray until the water runs cold. Then he goes into his room and grabs a pair of sleep pants out of his suitcase, pulling them on. He grabs his laptop from where he’d left it near the window, and then climbs into his bed.
Alex writes for a while. He does get around to emailing his family, as well as some friends. Eventually he shuts his laptop and puts it aside. He lays down in the bed, not bothering to get up and turn off the lights. He doesn’t sleep, he just stares at the wall and lets his brain dissect the events of the night and his feelings on a lot of things.
He has no idea how long he’s stayed like that, maybe an hour or two, when the door to the apartment opens. He expects it to be PJ, and is about to get out of the bed when he hears the voice, softly singing a Guster song to himself.
Alex freezes, thankful that his back is facing the door. He hadn’t expected Stark to be back so soon, if at all, and doesn't think he can look his friend in the eye tonight.
He listens as Stark drops his keys in the dish on the table near the door, kicks off his shoes in the hall, and makes his way into the apartment. He stops in the kitchen and grabs a drink out of the fridge, probably a bottle of water, Alex figures. He hears the television turn on, and then hears Stark approach his door.
“Alex?” Stark calls softly.
Alex just pretends to be asleep. Eventually, Stark turns off the light walks away.
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