Alpha Dog Syndrome. || AU Mikyle vs. AU Shantor
“Don’t choke, shit,” Michael said, laughing. There was something so nice about Kyle’s laugh that made Michael want to goad it out of him. It was higher pitched than his regular cadence and tiny wrinkles appeared around those sea green eyes when he laughed. And he had a beautiful smie. Truthfully, he’d rather the mechanic laugh at one of his actual jokes and not laugh at how bad they were. But Michael took what he could get. Sliding down further into his chair, he pouted sullenly and took another sip of his beer. “My beer likes my jokes. It thinks I’m very funny,” he said, looking at the bottle that was now empty. “What did the lawyer name his daughter?” he asked, before hearing that rumbling noise again in the background. Glancing behind him, he saw in the distance a large black SUV that was almost in the same condition his mustang had been in when Kyle had found him broken down on the road.
His eyes flickered to Kyle as his feet slipped into his sneakers and his fingers quickly buttoned his jeans. So who the fuck was showing up when it was far past normal hours for Kyle’s garage? And who the hell drove Xterra’s these days anyway? Michael stood slowly as he watched the smoky car approaching them and something like pure anger was building inside his chest. God damn it, someone always had to interrupt a good time, especially when Michael was having a good time with Kyle. And Michael valued time alone with Kyle. He was a possessive creature and the nightly routine of drinking when he shouldn’t and trying to goad that pretty little laugh out of his drinking buddy was something he didn’t want to get ruined by some asshole with a broken down SUV he shouldn’t have bought in the first place. Michael squared his shoulders as he stood, hands slipping into his jean pockets.
If Michael was pissed, he didn’t even want to know what Kyle was going to say. Chin tilted up, the paler man watched as two people stepped out of the car. The anger that was inside his chest seemed to subside as he watched the shorter one. Replaced instead with an instant and terrible wanting feeling. His head tilted to the side as he watched a thin, curly haired boy climbing out of the SUV and stretching arms above his head. Easily the most attractive stranger that Michael had seen in the small, Southern town. As he stretched, a band of pale skin was revealed, hip bones peeking out from tight black denim. There were few moments in life where Michael stopped, stood and stared at another male and realizedGod damn, I want to fuck him. He glanced over to Kyle, who was definitely was one of them and then back to the stranger climbing out of the SUV. The only difference between Kyle and the stranger was, Michael was pretty sure that he might be able to wrangle the stranger into the bed.
The only issue was the giant that climbed out of the car along with him. Definitely the boyfriend, Michael could almost tell right off the bat and wondered if the mechanic next to him could. And then he wondered what Kyle would think of them. But he didn’t have time to muse it as the titan called out for his companion and Michael snickered slightly, glancing down to the ground and then folding his arms over his chest. If Kyle had disliked Michael from the get-go just for being from the city (and not to mention the offer for sexual favors in an attempt to anger him) he definitely couldn’t like the hulking figure in front of him. One thing Michael had learned from Danny was tall people don’t like people taller than them and even though the stranger hadn’t completely approached them, he could already tell that he was taller than Kyle, if not just by a few inches. Added to that, he was demanding answers and interrupting the down time the mechanic had.
“I’m guessing these are not friends of yours?” Michael asked, stepping closer to Kyle in a subconscious way to show the sun kissed blond in front of him that there was ownership there somehow. Somehow. He glanced around the dominating male presence from the car to the other one, who was leaning his hip against the car. Michael shot him a grin, eyes flickering to thighs hugged tightly by black jeans and a tiny sliver of pale skin revealed where his shirt didn’t reach down over his hips.
Kicked up dirt and a soft rumbling in the distance distracted Kyle from Michael’s jibes. The noise was too familiar to him, an engine that hadn’t been treated well, ready to break and show it’s owners the consequences of their ill maintenance. Picking up the beer he had dropped, he sat it on the ground, ready to come back to it when the new strangers went on their way. Eyes shaded with his greasy left hand, the mechanic stood to get a better look at the tourists, their position evident by the car they drove and the pale white of their skin. A man, bigger than him, but most likely the same build had Kyle expended his energy for more than his job.
From the moment he saw the tall blond in front of him, Kyle could feel dislike growing. As if he had bile entering his veins, poisoning him. Something about the way he stood, a youthful arrogance that the man who had once stolen a car out of hate, knew far too well. Resentment for someone who probably didn’t have to reign himself in. With that haircut and clothes, the boy asking for his assistance would never be handcuffed and thrown in jail for speeding. He could ruin his engine doing two hundred per hour and just get a warning. It was a different kind of dislike to the one he first had with Michael. Even though his friend was probably far more privileged than the frat boy in front of him.
“That’s me,” he called out across the dust. Regardless of how much he already hated this guy and the gangly looking kid that hopped out of the passenger side of the car, they were still going to be customers. Customers he desperately needed if he was going to have any chance of paying the bank that month. “Only mechanic in town that knows how to do shit,” he said, standing next to Michael. “Problem though,” he walked forward, hand still shading his eyes, stopping when he found the height of the taller man over shadowing him. “I’ve had one too many to work on your engine, and from the sound of that rattle we heard when you were half a mile away, i’m going to have to order some parts from Santa Fe,” he explained.
Waving his right hand, he indicated they should follow him into the garage, before giving a little wink to Michael. “You coming?” he asked the gymnast, patting him on the shoulder as he made his way behind the desk. Dust had covered the blue melamine, falling into the crevasses and ruining the pages of his notebook. “So,” he stated, blowing as much of the dust off as he could. “Standard fee is $150 for me to look at it, then once i’ve assessed, we’ll see where it goes from there,” he wrote the figures down in his book, eyes darting up to see whether they had even bothered to follow him. “Need your details too, if you want my help,” he stared them down. Kyle never was a fan of the small town, small talk mentality.
There wasn’t much Shannon could do but watch. Nervously folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of the car. He wasn’t exactly the person to talk. In fact, he was pretty sure if he even tried at this point, he might stumble a bit over his words and embarrass himself. Shannon took a moment to inspect the two men Victor was walking toward. One a tall, lanky looking blond and the other a medium sized raven haired man. Both were extremely attractive in two entirely different ways, but gorgeous none the less. It only made Shannon even more nervous to be near them. He chewed furiously at his bottom lip as his boyfriend spoke, clear and confident toward them. Victor was larger than both, but only taller than the blond by a few inches at least. Not a giant anymore, but still far more muscular. He nearly dwarfed the black haired man, but something about the way he looked made Shannon think that he wasn’t to be underestimated. And also familiar.
Without realizing it he had been staring at the man, only for his eyes to flicker up and see him looking back as well. Shannon’s face turned red immediately and he couldn’t shake the feeling that, as strange as it was in the middle of New Mexico, that he might have been checking him out—and not just looking at him, really looking at him. Shannon coughed quickly into his fist and trotted up next to Victor, immediately sliding his hand into the other males. He felt safer and more comfortable, lacing their fingers together and pulling himself closer. Shannon was never one for clinginess. He liked to give Victor his space, save when he was drunk and needed to feel that larger body against his own at all times. He was content to hold hands or sit in his lap, but wouldn’t push it in public just in case. Though now, he needed to feel Victor’s rough, warm palm, his larger than life hands wrapping around his own.
Without much to do, Shannon, hand still in Victor’s, followed the lanky blond who was obviously Kyle Larsson. His voice was much deeper than Shannon had first expected it to be. Not soft, but lazy almost, in a way that Shannon could listen to him read a story until he fell asleep. Slightly creeped out by his thoughts, Shannon kept his eyes on the ground as he walked, especially avoiding looking over at the paler, black haired man for fear of catching his stare again. He felt as though he recognized the man but he wasn’t sure. It was making him even more nervous. Once inside the small office like area, Shannon slipped his hand from Victor’s and crossed his arms over his chest again, looking around the area. Nude girls magazines posted up. Clearly, Kyle Larsson was straight then, right? Shannon had originally assumed maybe the two were lovers, from the tiny wink and the way his hand had lingered on the black haired mans shoulder for a moment.
“You mean it can’t be fixed tonight?” Shannon asked in an uncharacteristic bold moment. With the others eyes on him, he twisted uncomfortably and shook his head. “We’re trying to get to California. To see his parents. I was just really looking forward to it,” Shannon muttered as his eyes once again locked on the other man, whose name he didn’t know yet. Slow realization seemed to dawn on him as he finally glanced full out into his eyes. They were cut directly in two with dual colors, blue and green. And that was when Shannon remembered who he was. He snatched Victor’s bicep as though to hold onto something and almost choked.
“I know you!” he said, pointing at the man. “I know you! You’re the gymnast! Michael Check!” he laughed, slapping his hand over his own chest. “Oh my God, I had a poster of you on my wall! You were on the USA Olympic team!” Shannon’s face went a furious red color. “I mean, I only had one poster,” he said, chuckling through his teeth. “I can’t believe this.” He glanced up to Victor. “This is like meeting a celebrity in the air port. I’m like so amazed right now. My mother was in love with you. Oh my God, she won’t believe that I met you. Can I get a picture?” he suddenly retracted, smile falling. “Is that rude? I’m sorry. I just—I watched you on TV.” He trailed off, coughing into his fist again and looking awkward.
Unsure of which man he was actually supposed to be addressing, the tall, lanky blond or the slender, well dressed man with raven colored hair, Victor shifted his weight from one foot to another, waiting for some indication of ownership to the name. There was an uncomfortable tension in the air as both men seemed to visibly groan at the notion of having their evening intruded upon. Victor couldn't say he blamed them. After spending an entire semester with roommates who seemed insistent upon invading any time he ever got alone with his new boyfriend, Victor knew the feeling all to well. Wanting nothing more than to lay back and relax when everything around you only wants to pull your attention away from a six pack and a steak. And the company of someone else.
It was the blond who first moved forward, getting to his feet and calling their way. He was tall, an inch shorter than Victor at best, but with a body built differently, long limbs and a fairly slender torso, streamlined compared to Victor's bulky mass. "Hey, man," he said, extending a hand in greeting. It was a gesture he quickly retracted when the man ignored it completely. "Sorry for interrupting, I know it's probably past business hours right? I just don't know a damn thing about cars. I hardly ever drive this thing," he continued to ramble, his normally booming voice slowly beginning to decrescendo into a soft murmur. The giant rarely found himself this out of place and it was certainly a feeling he didn't plan on getting used to.
"Any idea how long that could take?" Victor questioned, following several steps behind as the mechanic entered his garage. He wasn't quite sure of how he wanted the other man to answer. Part of him wanted to get the fuck out of this town as fast as possible and take the most direct route he could find back to New York. Another, probably the larger part of him hoped it would take days, weeks. However much time it had to take to help him avoid the visit to his parents.
Feeling his boyfriend's fingers work their way between his own, Victor couldn't help but wonder if Shannon was running the same scenarios in his own mind. The giant stood at his full height, shoulders back and chin up, almost defensive in the way he stepped cautiously over the threshold of the garage. Eyes scanned the interior, walls lined with porno magazine cut outs and other business papers that meant absolutely nothing to the frat boy as the thought of all the ways their own personal horror movie could end.
Clearly Shannon wasn't thinking the same. The man pulling his hand away from Victor's vocalizing the concerns Victor wouldn't speak. Victor quietly interjected. "We're just... on a schedule," he muttered, flashing a cautious smile. "The car's in my name. I've got the registration and stuff in the car," he began to explain, before being interrupted by his suddenly very excited boyfriend.
Victor eyed the smaller man that he'd previously paid almost no attention to. He was, after all, in search of Kyle Larrson the mechanic, not his smaller, paler friend who was apparently a gymnast that his boyfriend had... owned posters of. The thought sent an immediate spur of jealousy running through his body. "Right," he shrugged, slipping his arm around Shannon's shoulders. Subtle, Victor, really subtle, he said to himself. The man once again extended a hand toward Kyle. "I'm Victor, by the way. And this his Shannon."
