ellievsbear
Show & Tell
d e v o n
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occasionally subtle
Love Begins
Game of Thrones Daily
Kiana Khansmith
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
RMH
Claire Keane
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Three Goblin Art
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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@prodigyofprinxetoncollege
I WILL NO LONGER BE USING THIS BLOG SINCE IT IS TIED TO A MAIN BLOG I HAVE ABANDONED.
My new url for rps is @prodigyofprincetoncollegex
Please follow there if we are roleplaying, or if you are interested in reading my rps.
Thank you :)
Aaron’s voice alone is enough to draw ungodly sounds from Alexander’s lips, and he hangs on every word - clings to them like the air he needs to live. The question - does Aaron deserve him - earns the man a choked whimper, Alex nodding earnestly, fingers curling a little more tightly around the band of Aaron’s pants.
“Oh, God, yes. You deserve everything you want. Especially that.” His voice, thick and low and breathless, rushes out of his swollen lips like water through a broken dam. He makes another soft sound when Aaron grips his chin, moving pliantly in response, eyes fixated on the handsome face he’s grown to adore so deeply. He needs Aaron, in every aspect of his life, and if the man can see that now, if he can look into his lust-blown eyes and see his utter desperation, Alexander doesn’t care. He needs Aaron, and he’d scream it to the world if he could.
“Please.” Alex interrupts the silence, almost in tears as the moment drags on, his voice hardly more than a whine. He needs to know that Aaron wants him as much as he wants the other, needs to hear it spoken aloud, despite the ever-present implications. Aaron is his one true deity in this broken and painful world, and if he doesn’t have his love and his lust, he’s sure he has nothing at all. He knows, not because of the way his body responds to the man’s touch or the way his heart races when he hears his voice, but because of the way he often wakes up in the dark of the night, terrified and desperate, his entire being aching for the man’s protective embrace. Maybe it makes him weak, maybe it makes him foolish, but he doesn’t care. He quit caring a long, long time ago.
“It’s all yours, Aaron.” He can barely speak between his labored breaths, the feeling of Aaron’s fingers moving into him so skillfully practically driving him to a point of speechlessness. But he needs more. He needs all of this man, as though he hadn’t had him before, as though he’d never have him again. He needs him like water or food or air… he needs him like he’s never needed anyone or anything and, for the moment, at least, that doesn’t scare him at all.
“Please, please, please take it all.” He’s whispering now, pushing against Aaron’s fingers, hands pulling at the band of his pants like a lifeline. He’s not sure how much more he can take, but he knows he’ll wait as long as Aaron asks him to - he knows he’ll do anything, absolutely anything for the man he’s so unexpectantly given his heart to.
“You’re the only truth that matters, Aaron. The only thing I’ll ever worship.” He leans down again, rubbing against Aaron, small, needy whimpers rising up in his throat as his mouth roams the soft skin of Aaron’s neck and collarbone, sucking and licking and kissing, tasting as much of him as he can.
“Tell me what to do. I’ll worship you without question. I swear, Aaron, you can have me in any way you want. I trust you.” His mouth moves up to the man’s jawline, lips soft and tongue warm, leaving a wet trail on the dark skin as he makes his way over every reachable centimeter, fingers trembling and eager where they rest against the warm flesh of Aaron’s lower abdomen.
“I’d be a martyr for your happiness.” His breath is hot against the sensitive skin, and he makes it a point to pant a little harder between words, needing to find Aaron’s breaking point before he reaches his own. He’s made him wait so, so long, and Alex would wait forever if he had to, but, God, he wants him now. More than he’s ever wanted a damn thing.
“I’d give my soul to you without question if I could. So take it. Take all of me. Please.”
If this game was really about control, then Aaron just won.
Won, because he’d managed to reduce Alex, clever, eloquent, witty, intelligent Alex, to nothing but a begging mess of want. His eyes were unguarded, open, letting Aaron see his desire, his need, his devotion. He was panting, every breath heavy and loud in the otherwise quiet room. His thighs were trembling – his whole body, really – in Aaron’s grip.
At this point, another ‘please’ might break Aaron. Not just his resolve, all of him. Alex is hot and naked and sweaty on top of him, and in Aaron’s mind, he’s won the game. No need to keep playing.
“I’d give my soul to you without question if I could. So take it. Take all of me. Please.”
Aaron smiles at Alex, leaning back in his chair, bringing a little distance between them. Carefully, he removes his fingers, wipes them dry on his jeans before cupping Alex’s face with both hands and looking at him, just looking at him, he hopes that Alex understands. He softly lets his right thumb stroke over Alex’s lips, full and soft and so inviting.
“Thank you,” he whispers, not clarifying what he means, but there are a lot of options to take it and none of them would be wrong. Thank you for playing this game. Thank you for being so vulnerable with me. Thank you for saying these things. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for existing.
“I love you,” Aaron murmurs next, leaning forward to kiss Alex. It’s a sweet kiss, and Aaron knows that it’s not enough for Alex right now. He might be a sappy romantic, but he’s not a fool, and he is most certainly not cruel. After all the waiting he did, Alexander deserved to find release.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he asks, while letting go of Alex’s face and grabbing his hips, standing up to carry Alex all the way back to the bed. If the situation were different, Aaron might have made a joke about how he was heavier than he looked, but with how Alex held on to him – with how obvious Alex’s arousal was – he didn’t want to ruin the mood.
When they were standing in front of the bed, he let Alex down slowly, coaxes him to let go for just a moment. Effectively, Aaron strips off his shirt and gets rid of his jeans. It’s been getting too damn hot with how Alexander is burning against him.
Then he joins Alex on the bed, finally able to act – finally able to take part, to give Alex what he wants. He’s hovering over Alex, leans down for another kiss, this one deeper, hungrier.
“Tell me what you want.” He presses his thigh between Alex’s legs, lets his lips wander over Alex’s jawline and down his throat.
“Do you want me to suck you off? Fuck you? Do you wanna fuck me? It’s up to you, Alli. It’s whatever you want.”
I WILL NO LONGER BE USING THIS BLOG SINCE IT IS TIED TO A MAIN BLOG I HAVE ABANDONED.
My new url for rps is @prodigyofprincetoncollegex
Please follow there if we are roleplaying, or if you are interested in reading my rps.
Thank you :)
I WILL NO LONGER BE USING THIS BLOG SINCE IT IS TIED TO A MAIN BLOG I HAVE ABANDONED.
My new url for rps is @prodigyofprincetoncollegex
Please follow there if we are roleplaying, or if you are interested in reading my rps.
Thank you :)
Who's James Cheetham?
The Man The Myth The Absolute Madman,
James Cheetham
He was like Alexander Hamilton on steroids and aphrodisiacs. He was one of the people who participated in the anti-Burr smear campaign, as a “journalist.” The word “journalist” is in quotes, because instead of legitimate journalism, he just wrote porn about Aaron Burr. Some real actual Cheetham Original highlights include
Burr wore silk to the duel, y’all know the superstitions that silk repels bullets, also if you debate me on this ur gey
Burr having a fetish for younger men with huge dicks
Burr sexually servicing more powerful men (or their wives) for political favors
Etc, you get the idea
Basically, he was The Jeffersonians’ Profession Aaron Burr Slut-Shamer, sponsored by the Clinton family. James “Don’t Vore for Aaron Burr, He’s a Bottom!” Cheetham. An icon. Best fake news journalist of all time.
Imagine if somebody nowadays wrote a 200-page smut fic about JFK getting gangbanged by the electoral college to convince them to vote for him and then published it claiming it actually happened; that’s James Cheetham.
Feeling her boss’s eyes on her made her regret not stopping at home to change before meeting. She probably looked like she had been doing the drugs she was supposed to be dealing; God, she prayed that he didn’t see it that way.
“Please, call me Elizabeth,” she said, unable to meet his eyes when they shook hands. He’d be able to see how much she hated him, how badly she wanted to squeeze just a little bit harder and break his hand. Instead, Elizabeth took in a soft breath and forced herself to be normal around him, just for a few moments.
His next few words felt like a slap in the face, despite the fact she had created the problem. Of course Aaron was disappointed, she was screwing up, but he was trying to be so polite about it, like she was when she scolded one of her workers. Elizabeth hoped that Aaron didn’t completely pin the situation on her, though. He wasn’t an idiot, but she had done well to cover her tracks.
“Yes, thank you,” she said when he offered her a drink. Elizabeth walked over and prepared herself a drink. As she worked, she had to remind herself of her character.
She couldn’t be angry with him, not even look at him the wrong way. Elizabeth would have to be patient and listen to every stupid word that fell out of his mouth, pay attention to way he decided to punish her. She subtly looked around for a weapon she could use should Aaron order her death tonight, seeing the multiple bottles. Perhaps she’d just break one and use that. The thought made her smile, finally having revenge, but she wiped it off and turned with her glass of whiskey to face her boss.
“Before we begin, I’d like to apologise for my appearance. I usually put in better effort, but the kids did painting today and I like to help out,” she explained, quickly realising he had no idea what she was talking about.
“I work with children, often actually. I had planned to change, but one of them couldn’t sleep, so I stayed until they did and immediately came to meet with you,” Elizabeth settled, trying not to overplay her nervousness. When she was finished, she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip.
She had noticed Aaron’s professionalism, so she decided to do the same. Elizabeth adopted the personality she had when dealing with her people, except she had to be even more sweet and patient with her boss since she was the one on trial.
“I’m aware of the problem I have in my district, and I apologise deeply for that. You’ve given me so much trust and power within the syndicate and I let that slip,” Elizabeth started, shuffling from one foot to the other. “You must believe me when I say I already have a solution in progress to keep any other mistakes from occurring.”
Elizabeth swirled her glass and took another sip before she set it down, her hand instinctively going to her sweater sleeve as she spoke to keep from lunging at him when she met his eyes. “I’ve changed the routing of all of my shipments and transportation. Some will drive themselves, and none will travel in a group,” Elizabeth explained, murmuring something about that’s why they got caught in the first place.
“The rest will take more public routes, hide in plain sight if you will, subways, taxis, whatever works at the time. I’ve already got the cops looking towards the west and some down south, so we won’t have to worry about them sticking their nose in our work,” Elizabeth promised, taking in a breath and searching his eyes for anything: approval, disappointment, anger, humour, any reaction to her plan.
Aaron waited while Elizabeth poured herself a drink – they had that much time. He didn’t have any other meetings today, and after this was over, he’d finally get home and enjoy a quiet evening. Unless Jakob decided to show up spontaneously, but Aaron never really minded that. The young man was always a pleasant distraction, after all.
Although Elizabeth offered him to call her by her first name, Aaron didn’t offer her the same. They weren’t on the same level, and he’d expect the same respect from her he expected from all his subordinates.
He accepted her apology for the way she was dressed with a short nod, only to be caught off guard by her explanation.
“You work with children?” The incredulity in his voice wasn’t quite hidden. How could she risk that? Dealing drugs – not only that, but overseeing drug deals in all off Queens – and working with children? Either she didn’t really care what happened to them, or she was more naïve than Aaron had anticipated.
“Do you think that is a wise decision?”
He focused back on the actual topic at hand – after all, her side jobs weren’t his problem as long as she wasn’t being friendly with another cartel – but still. How could you deal drugs and at the same time work with children? In Aaron’s mind, those two didn’t go together. People working social jobs usually didn’t have what it took to make it in this business, neither were they interested in it at all.
Eliza’s plan sounded similar to what Aaron would have done – there was no way to be absolutely sure mules wouldn’t get caught, after all. It all came down to picking the best route, someone who could disguise themselves and was clever, and the police being their usual stupid self.
“Who do you know within the police force?”
That she had them looking somewhere else was clever, but that meant she knew the people necessary to make it happen. Aaron sat down on the couch, gestured towards the armchair opposite of him.
“Sit.”
He waited until she was seated before continuing to speak.
“Your plan sounds good. What about the mules captured by the police? Can we be sure they will keep their mouths shut or do we need to make them shut up?”
Aaron leaned back in his seat, confident Eliza had understood what he meant.
Perfectly gay ❤️
18th century embroidery.
When All Is Said and Done
„Jonathan, I’m not telling you to lie…I’m asking you to keep quiet about our past.”
Jonathan Bellamy, dressed in a sharply tailored suit, gorgeous as always, gives Aaron one of those smiles that are too smooth to be real.
“So you’re not ashamed to get publicly engaged to Alexander Hamilton of all people, but you’re embarrassed of our past? You’re ashamed of me being one of your ex-lovers while Alexander Hamilton is your fiancé?”
Aaron shakes his head. He knows what Bellamy means. Jonathan could have only made it clearer by opening his arms, as if trying to encompass the whole mansion they were sitting in. The whole empire that Jonathan Bellamy had built for himself ever since they had been at Princeton. No, Aaron was not embarrassed by the affair he’d had with Bellamy. There was no reason for that.
“That is not what I mean, John. It’s just that you’ve been very generous in your donations to my campaigns, ever since my second term as a senator. I wouldn’t want people to believe-“
“That you sucked my dick for that? That I donated millions to your campaigns because we were fucking?” He huffs a laugh. “You’re not that good in bed, Aaron.”
Aaron despises the wording, but in the end, yes. He gives a short nod.
“I don’t want anyone to assume our close personal relationship during our time at Princeton affected our professional relationship in the years that followed.”
Bellamy shrugs.
He swirls the whiskey in his glass, Aaron can hear the ice cubes clink. Bellamy never really cared for whiskey, he just drinks it because of the image it creates. Aaron knows these kind of things, because he knows Bellamy. In ways the people he works with on Wall Street never will. Unfortunately, that works the other way around as well. It’s part of the reason Aaron isn’t offended. A bigger part, though, is that he knows when Bellamy goes this low, he doesn’t really have any true argument going for him.
“But that’s not true. Because of Princeton I knew you. Knew your political goals, your stances, even those you never made public during your first years in the senate. Unlike everyone else who was lying – well, at that time you were already lying, too – I remembered those nights you told me what you really believed in. And it can never hurt to have a friend in the White House. Even better if it’s the President himself.”
Aaron keeps himself from grinding his teeth. Bellamy is making it sound like there had been undue influence, and there hadn’t. Didn’t the man see that he was only making it worse?
“Bell, I-”
“So you do remember that nickname.”
Aaron sighs. Once, it had been so easy between them. But that had been decades ago. A presidency ago. Two terms in the senate ago. And most importantly, an engagement ago.
“Of course I do, Bell.”
Bellamy shakes his head. Aaron can see the change in his eyes – this conversation has never been about their relationship, not really. Not for Bellamy.
“We used to lie in bed together and you kept telling me you couldn’t come out. Couldn’t even go to a gay party with me, or a protest, or a rally, anything, and you could have claimed you were just an ally. But you didn’t. You told me you couldn’t come out. You told me you didn’t see yourself reaching your goals with a man by your side.”
Aaron takes a deep breath.
“I was right about that. Which is why I came out now. After I had reached everything I ever wanted.”
“But you were seeing him for years. You two were a couple for almost twenty years.”
There’s an accusation in there, and anger, and betrayal.
“Bellamy, let’s be honest here. You would have never done that. You would have never played hide and seek for twenty years just to be with me. You wouldn’t have agreed to being smuggled into the White House. You wouldn’t have waited months to see me for a night. You wouldn’t have put up with the press speculating about your relationships while never being able to say anything that’s true.”
Bellamy downs his whiskey in one go.
“Probably not, you’re right about that. But you never even gave me the chance.”
Aaron closes his eyes for a moment.
“We broke up more than thirty years ago, Bell. You can’t possibly still hold that against me. We weren’t even happy anymore.”
Bellamy gets up, gets himself another drink. Aaron waits. He has the patience of a saint, according to Alex. He certainly has the patience of a politician, and in this case, that might be even better than a saint.
“All I’m asking is that you keep our sexual relationship under wraps, Bellamy. I cannot force you to do it. I have nothing to hold over your head. I’m simply asking because I don’t want us to be accused of things we didn’t do.”
Bellamy sits back down. The couches they sit on are plush, a small table between them. It reminds Aaron of the many uncomfortable negotiations he held in the Oval. He never expected himself and Bellamy to end like this.
“I would only compromise my own integrity by doing that, Aaron. I wouldn’t want to hurt myself or my company just to get back at you for dumping me thirty years ago.”
“Good, good. That’s all I wanted.”
Aaron smiles at Bellamy, relieved. He has enough to handle as it is, the whole coming out is more work than he ever anticipated it to be. But of course the public is interested. And he doesn’t owe them anything, but he made the decision to come out for a reason. He gets letters now, every day, from boys and girls, women and men all around the country thanking him for giving them the courage to come out. It’s almost like after he legalized gay marriage, only now he doesn’t have to pretend it’s not his community that’s affected.
“I will still provoke Hamilton whenever I see him. Or, the future Mr. Burr.”
“Actually, I will be taking his name.”
The left corner of Bellamy’s mouth twitches, his eyes are angry for a moment. But he lets it go.
“Another drink?”
Aaron shakes his hand, places his glass, still more than half full, back on the table.
“I’m sorry, but I have to leave. Be well, Jonathan.”
“Yes, you too, Aaron.”
Their goodbye is awkward, but it had been awkward between them ever since that fateful night when Aaron told Bellamy that there would be no coming out, no event Aaron would ever accompany Bellamy to. Sitting in his car, he wonders what his life would have been like had he had the courage to come out back then. He would have never become president. But Bellamy had made it. Maybe so would he?
Then again, without Alex…would he even have gotten through his presidency? Well, life is full of ifs and buts. Aaron knows he had been lucky. With his career, with his friends, with Alex.
Aaron Bellamy had been the fantasy of a twenty-year-old pre-law student, nothing but an illusion. An impossibility.
Aaron Hamilton, on the other hand, is a former president, a former senator, a man who has reached every goal he has set for himself. Aaron Hamilton is his future, and he is real.
I think I’d kill to stay alive, at least myself, and if you can’t accept that you don’t know the angel in my blood.
— Max Ritvo, from “Name My Time of Death and See What I Do to You,” The Final Voicemails
Hunger
Antisocial personality disorder (ASPD or APD) is a personality disorder characterized by a long term pattern of disregard for, or violation of, the rights of others. A low moral sense or conscience is often apparent, as well as a history of crime, legal problems, or impulsive and aggressive behavior.
Aaron was biting down on his already short fingernails, swallowing while he read. A noise behind him made him turn around, breath held in fear he might have been discovered – but there was nothing. And even if there was, he had a right to be here. He had earned Internet privileges ever since he started speaking about his uncle in therapy.
He figured it couldn’t hurt to find out a little more about Alexander. Starting with his diagnosis. For some reason Aaron would have hoped that he could somehow disprove that Alex really had this, but the words suggest otherwise. Impulsive and aggressive. That just hit the nail on the head.
Antisocial personality disorder is defined by a pervasive and persistent disregard for morals, social norms, and the rights and feelings of others.
Like this morning, when Alex told Erik that no one would ever love him as long as he was this pathetic. Aaron shook his head and read on.
They may display arrogance, think lowly and negatively of others, and lack remorse for their harmful actions and have a callous attitude to those they have harmed.
Like when Alex called everyone in here crazy, and that they were too stupid to make it out in the real world anyway. How he was cruel to the nurses that were just trying their best, or breaking Lola’s pens when she was drawing.
Aaron scrolled down for a bit. There were different types. One especially drew his eye.
Reputation-defending antisocial (including narcissistic features): Needs to be thought of as infallible, unbreakable, indomitable, formidable, inviolable; intransigent when status is questioned; overreactive to slights.
Aaron tried not to think about that one time Thomas had told Alex he looked like Hell, and that he should probably do something about that. Alex had beaten him bloody so quickly, Aaron hadn’t been able to do more than yell in shock and press himself to the wall, trying to get away from the violence. The nurses had to sedate Alex to get him off of Thomas. Aaron himself had needed a therapy session to deal with what had happened. He never told Alex how terrified he was of him in that moment. Maybe he should scroll up again, after all.
Individuals with this personality disorder will typically have no compunction in exploiting others in harmful ways for their own gain or pleasure and frequently manipulate and deceive other people, achieving this through wit and a façade of superficial charm or through intimidation and violence. Serious problems with interpersonal relationships are often seen in those with the disorder. Attachments and emotional bonds are weak, and interpersonal relationships often revolve around the manipulation, exploitation, and abuse of others.
Aaron could feel his cheeks heating up, Alex was always so clever. And so charming. But he would never…never manipulate Aaron, right? Surely not. He cared about him. (But this article said Alex couldn’t even really care about people.) But this article was just the technicalities. This completely ignored the many different people who might be suffering from this condition. (But when you looked up your own diagnosis it fits you perfectly, didn’t it?)
Aaron closed the page.
Deceive other people, achieving this through wit and a façade of superficial charm or through intimidation and violence.
Too late. He nervously wrung his hands. He needed to talk to someone. Of course he could go to his therapist, or any of the nurses, but he knew they would all be too eager to get him away from Alex.
(Because the article was right? Because he is bad for you? Because you live to please and are unable to recognize it if someone takes advantage of you?)
Aaron shook his head. No, he refused to believe any of that. No. Still. He could go and talk to Lola. Maybe she could offer him another point of view.
Yes, he would go to Lola. He had a look at the time. Another half an hour he could spent on the internet before he was supposed to be back with the group. What to do?
He watched a few trailers for movies he probably wouldn’t get to see in cinema because he was in here. Aaron knew very well he shouldn’t visit his old blog. It would hurt him. He was allowed to be here because his therapist trusted him not to hurt himself that way. But Aaron found himself logging in anyway, scrolling through old pictures of him. Posts documenting his weight loss, his meals. The pictures showing him in clothing he would never fit into now. He hovered longer over one that showed him encircling his thigh with both his hands. There was still space left. Now, he wouldn’t be able to take such a picture. He had a couple of unanswered messages in his inbox. A couple of people complimenting him for the pictures. Some dude asking if he was single. A person he almost considered a friend had sent multiple messages, asking if he was okay, if something had happened, if he’d hurt himself. If he’d been sent to a clinic. Aaron started typing an answer, started to explain himself.
Then he looked at himself. Closed his eyes, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. God, how he hated himself. How he hated this body. How he hated to be bound to it. How he hated the way his thighs looked when he sat down. He used to be so delicate. So skinny. Barely there. And now…tears were burning in his eyes, hot and salty, tears of hate. Aaron buried the fingernails of his right hand in the palm of his left, waiting for the pain, the relief that came with it.
As usual in these moments, the image of Bellamy haunted him. Elegant, almost like he was floating over the ground. Never would he be like that. Especially not now. In here. Where everyone was working so hard to let him forget what was really important.
For the first time in almost two months, Aaron felt the need to hurt himself. To really hurt himself. The scars on his arms were starting to fade a little, he’d already seen that. He had also seen how Alex looked at them, like he was hurting just by looking at them. (So much for not caring about others.)
Aaron looked around, searching for something sharp, they usually kept everything safe, but this room wasn’t accessible to all, so maybe they hadn’t been that careful. He got up, made his way around the room. Opened an old supply closet that hadn’t been dusted in ages. Inside, there were a few tools – including an old box cutter. Aaron reached for it, almost greedy. There was barely anything left of the knife. For a moment, he hesitated. Went through what his therapist told him, came up with a few strategies to keep himself from doing this…but he wanted to. And he needed to. He deserved it.
The first cut made him feel almost euphoric. He added two more before he remembered that he had no way of cleaning up after and that his sweater was light grey. If he bled through it, it would be easily visible. He’d cut the inside of his left lower arm. Not too deep – he wasn’t trying to kill himself – but deep enough for blood to be flowing. Shit.
He threw the knife back into the closet, closed it and searched for the tissues he should still have in his trousers. Yes. Good. He pressed them against the wounds, they stuck easily. Then he pulled down his sweater. Went back to the computer, logged out, erased the browser history. Never finished that reply to his friend. He needed to make sure they didn’t find out what he had done. The self-hate had given way to pragmatism.
Aaron had made good progress. He was on his way of getting out of here. He couldn’t let anyone see this. He wiped his tears away, faked a smile, left the room, nodded to a nurse. She didn’t seem to suspect anything. When Aaron entered the common room, Alex immediately turned to him. Aaron didn’t hesitate to approach him.
“Alex? Do you have a second?”
“Of course.” Alex immediately dropped the huge tome on corporate law he had been reading and followed Aaron.
“Why are we going to our room?”
“You’ll see.”
They were lucky – no one cared enough to stop them. Once the door was closed behind them, Aaron hitched up his left sleeve to show Alex the wounds. The tissues were almost soaked, but the bleeding had stopped. Alex’s surprise looked almost comically.
“God, Aaron! What- why? How?”
Aaron held his arm out for Alex to examine.
“I looked at my old blog. Pictures of me, back when I was skinny. Beautiful.”
Alex shook his head. “You are beautiful. You are. Beautiful inside and out. Really, Aaron. Don’t you ever look into your beautiful eyes? Or at those full lips?”
Aaron looked down.
Antisocial personality disorder is defined by a pervasive and persistent disregard for the feelings of others.
He almost chuckled. Seemed to him like Alex cared quite a bit about him. Maybe those things weren’t all true after all.
“I don’t feel beautiful, Alex,” Aaron admitted. Alex looked up at him, satisfied with how the wound was healing, but sad to hear Aaron say those words.
“Aaron, babe.” There was a moment of silence, the term of endearment between them, but Aaron didn’t want Alex to take it back. He didn’t want to question Alex’s intentions either, so he simply prompted him with a quiet, “so?” and Alex continued.
“Sit with me for a moment.”
Aaron followed him, and together they sat down on Alex’s bed. They usually slept here, too.
Alex took his hand. “Aaron, you know you’re skinny. Rationally, you know that you are still skinny.” Aaron nodded. Yes, rationally he did know that.
“The male beauty ideal is definitely heavier than you. You know that too. But even if that weren’t the case, you would be the most beautiful person I have ever met. Your looks are part of it, but even without them, you’d still be intelligent, eloquent, kind, caring, compassionate, ambitious, generous, likeable, gorgeous, - oh, is that a smile?”
Aaron looked down but nodded.
They may display arrogance and think lowly and negatively of others.
Looking back up Aaron couldn’t help but see that lively spark in Alex’s eyes that had drawn him in right from the beginning. Those things were all lies. Alex was none of that. Alex cared about him, and Alex had such a high opinion of him…he was important to Alex.
“I matter to you, no matter how I look.”
It was a dangerous thing to say, almost scandalous, as far as Aaron was concerned, but whenever he was with Alex, it was so easy to speak. To speak clearly, openly, to leave his shyness be. Because Alex never reacted impulsively and aggressively when he was with Aaron.
“Yes,” Alex replied, “yes, you do. You matter to me, Aaron. You matter so much. You mean so much to me.”
And Alex’s eyes were so alive with feeling, with promise, with compassion and sympathy (and love) that Aaron had to blink back tears for the second time today.
“Hold me?” His throat was chocked up, but it wasn’t important.
Serious problems with interpersonal relationships are often seen in those with the disorder. Attachments and emotional bonds are weak, and interpersonal relationships often revolve around the manipulation, exploitation, and abuse of others.
Aaron chuckled when Alex moved to lie down, and the older man was confused for a moment.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,“ Aaron nodded. He lied down, pushed his back to Alex’s chest, closed his eyes in satisfaction when Alex wrapped an arm around him.
“Just thought about some other stupid stuff I read online. It was a bunch of lies.”
Aaron had been manipulated. Had been exploited and abused. Physically, emotionally. And Alex? Alex was doing none of that. Alex cared. Alex, in whatever way he could, loved Alex. That made Aaron feel warm in a way few things ever had.
“Alex?”
“Hm?”
Alex had also spread the blanket over them, there was a fair chance Aaron was gonna fall asleep.
“You…”
Aaron broke off before he could finish his sentence. But Alex was used to it. Alex, who was not aggressive, not manipulative, not abusive, not exploitative simply pulled him closer to his own warm body. Alex simply waited until Aaron was ready.
“You ever think about us? After this?”
Alex made a noise that sounds almost worrisome, then Aaron could feel Alex resting his forehead against his shoulder.
“I’d be honored to still be in your life once this is over, Aaron.”
His voice sounded deep and raspy. Emotional, despite the formal words. As if he never thought that Aaron would want to keep him around once he didn’t have to share a room with him anymore.
“I want you in my life, Alex. I’d go so far as to say that…I need you.”
Another sound behind him that reminded Aaron suspiciously of a sob. Once more he remembered the article describing a cold-hearted person, bordering on a monster. And here Alex was, crying because Aaron said he needed him. Being emotional. Being caring. Out of all the relationships he had…no one had ever cared about him the way Alex had. No one had ever accepted all of him – all the fucked up, ugly, crazy parts – the way Alex did every day. Bellamy would have yelled and lost his mind over those cuts. Alex was simply holding him.
Slowly, Aaron turned around in Alex’s arms to look at him. To look into those brown eyes, to wipe away the tears.
“You mean a lot to me, too,” he said, watched as another tear rolled into Alex’s hair.
“You deserve so much more, so much better than me,” Alex rasped. Aaron smiled and shook his head.
“But I want you.” It was quiet, and a little hesitant, but his voice had been steady. Aaron knew what the others were saying. He knew what the therapists were thinking. That was why he’d opened that page in the first place. But now he knew the truth, and the truth was that they all didn’t know Alex. They didn’t know the person behind the diagnosis. They couldn’t see Alex now, overwhelmed with feelings, his hands shaking when he cupped Aaron’s face.
“I’ll do whatever I can, Aaron. I swear. I’ll get better, and I’ll be what you need. I’ll give you everything you could possibly want.”
Aaron closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He felt so full of love, so full of light in that moment. So real and present, in a good way. He opened his eyes and nodded. Then he leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek. Alex wasn’t breathing while Aaron’s lips were touching him.
“Everything,” he repeated. Aaron nodded, and pushed himself a little closer. Alex wrapped him in his arms, kept him safe and warm. A slight smile played around Aaron’s lips when he fell asleep, unaware of the fact that Alex was still looking at him as if he was a wonder. Because for Alex, that’s what he was.
Her boss was an important man, that she knew, and through her bloodlust Elizabeth was aware it wouldn’t be easy to kill him. Tonight, no matter how much she wanted to drive a blade into him, she planned for it to be an observant meeting, so to speak.
She was knowledgeable when it came to pointing out weaknesses within people, being forced to stand in the background of her father’s meetings, always watching. Elizabeth knew what to look for. And even though this was supposed to be a moment of opportunity, she knew that there was a chance she would have to conduct the meeting. It was her problem being discussed, after all.
Three shipments had been busted. Three, no more, no less, just enough to make it seem like an accident, but not a careless one. Those crossing state borders with drugs hidden in clothes or in hair, or anywhere they could hide it, had been caught and interrogated. The mules had no way of being traced back to the syndicate, but of course, Elizabeth knew the mules were hers.
The mules had been instructed to either die or take a plea bargain by feeding the police false information that directed them to a few rival cartels. Elizabeth wasn’t an idiot and was careful in absolutely everything that had her name on it, so even if she had been directing the problem, she was not going to take a chance getting herself or anyone else caught in it.
She wasn’t sure if he was aware of the problem, but it felt like her boss knew everything, perhaps who she truly was. If that was the case, killing him would be much more fun. What wasn’t fun was the men patting her down for a weapon, a fat pout forming on her lips.
“You don’t trust me?” Elizabeth asked in a childlike tone. She took the ID from the man and nodded at the directions given to her. Elizabeth sidled into the limo, sighing at the warmth inside. She was quiet on the ride there, fiddling with and pulling out a few of the loose strings on her old and worn sweater.
Elizabeth rehearsed what she had planned to say in her head: introduce herself, but show him respect, maybe a head bow, then acknowledge the problem and produce the solution. The solution to the problem was simple, change a few routes in her district and have them cross in more secretive ways.
Maybe after a few months of doing this, she’d slowly incorporate the old way back into the plan once they were off the radar.
She thanked the driver and exited the limo, upset that she had to leave the luxurious space, before she walked up to the hotel. Elizabeth showed the consierge her ID and said with a timid voice, “My name is Elise Manner. I believe I have a room card in my name?”
The man looked her over and stifled a chuckle, perhaps at the tattered sweater and jeans stained with what looked to be paints. When he slid her the card, she chirped a thank you and headed to the room.
Elizabeth wasn’t one to get anxious, but for the first time since she forced her way into the syndicate, she felt like she didn’t belong as she entered the room.
“Good evening,” she hummed, closing the door behind her and moving to the man. Her steps were slow and careful, but they were confident. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Elizabeth settled on saying, holding her hand out for him to shake.
While he waited for Elizabeth, Aaron had a look around the room. The suite had a decent size, a nice bathroom with a jacuzzi, and a king-size bed. More interesting than that, though, was that the bar had quite a few bottles that looked like they might be up to his standard.
He didn’t know Elizabeth yet, so he couldn’t be sure whether she was more likely to prefer a whiskey or a red wine. He considered waiting for her to open a bottle, and decided against it. After pouring himself a whiskey, he added two ice cubes. Then he sat down, scrolled through his phone, checking emails. She should arrive any minute now if there had been no problems with the traffic.
Just a few minutes later, he could her the lock click, the door opening. Aaron put aside his glass and stood up to greet her. Elizabeth Renssler was not what he’d expected her to be. Far from it, actually. People in this business, as soon as they weren’t dealing themselves anymore, usually made an effort to look like it.
Aaron himself had been no exception: as soon as he could afford it he made it a point to wear suits tailored for him, nothing off the rack. Right now he was wearing an elegant grey suit, with a white shirt, no tie. No need to be that formal. Aaron had been working with Maria Lewis for years now, and she wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere with a sweater and dirty jeans. Then again, Maria was far higher up the food chain than Elizabeth. She probably hadn’t expected the meeting to take place in a hotel like this. But Aaron had perfected his poker face over the years, none of this would show on his features. Instead, he gave her an easy smile.
“Ms. Renssler, the pleasure is mine.” He took her hand and shook it before letting go again.
“My name is Aaron Burr. I’m glad we finally get to meet, although it is under such…unfortunate circumstances. You have been doing great work for us this far.”
When it came to leading, Aaron preferred the carrot over the stick. No use in having people that work for you hate you, that would only ever backfire. Besides, Elizabeth had been doing a bad job. That some of her mules had been discovered was probably not even her fault – the police couldn’t be stupid all the time. Even a broken clock is right twice a day, as they say.
“Before we get down to business, how about a drink?”
He mentioned to his already prepared glass and the open bar.
“I opened a bottle of whiskey, if that’s to your liking, if not, they have a nice selection of red wine.”
Aaron’s Diary
11th November
Did this real stupid thing – got wasted and fucked the bartender from Stars. Bellamy wouldn’t even do that. It’s hoe level #1 and I just did that. But his hair??? God, his hair reminded me so much of Alex. I don’t know what Alex is doing right now. If he’s seeing anyone. Or just having meaningless one night stands to forget me. Or cuddling up with George, who he kinda loves and who kinda loves him back but not quite really.
I don’t know what to do about my next appointment with Altsoba. I do remember the address of her house so I could probably go there alone, but I’m not sure I should. It’s expensive, and I won’t be able to afford more than a couple of hours before my money is gone. And I was putting that aside to do some travelling during the holidays. I just…I don’t know. I don’t see a way out. And I wonder if it’s even worth it all. Maybe everyone is better off without me. Including Alex. Especially Alex.
How the Game is played
“Ah, waiting to break out the good sweats, huh? Probably for the best. You’d really just be wasting them on me right now.” Alex had never considered that there would be an instance when he wouldn’t be using time alone with Aaron as an opportunity to prove to him just how much he still wanted him, how lucky he considered himself to have him. But it was plainly obvious in this case that anything beyond words and chaste displays of affection would be off the menu. Of course, Alex knew Aaron would hardly take offense to it, but it just added another level of frustration to the entire ordeal.
But he could do his best to stop focusing on those little hang-ups and insecurities, at least for the evening, and give Aaron the focus he deserved. He just needed to readjust his thinking, in all honesty. This could be a good thing… a little gift wrapped up in some barbed wire. This could bring them closer together, could give them a little more time together, so long as Alex could exercise a little discipline and obedience and heed Aaron’s advice. After all, it wasn’t like anyone could tell his own story better than he could, however long he waited.
With newfound determination, he allowed his body to relax more fully, eyes on the movie and mind on the steady rhythm of Aaron’s chest rising and falling as he breathed. Before long, the grip the man had on him began to loosen, and Alex tilted his head enough to see Aaron’s eyes were shut and his face was calm and peaceful. He could hardly be blamed; the room was warm, the light was soft, and the television was set at a low volume. Alex would likely have followed suit, had it not been for the nagging pain that had gradually gotten more pronounced from his own stubborn refusal to move away from Aaron’s warmth and fetch his medications.
“You certainly did, old man.” Alex chuckled, stretching as his muscles would allow and yawning quietly.
“But it’s nice having proof that you do, in fact, sleep.” He leaned back to steal a quick kiss from Aaron, nodding in agreement and shifting his weight away.
“My body will never forgive me if we stay here.” He took a few deep breaths, knowing he was about to regret having remained stationary for so long the moment he forced his torn muscles to work again. He pushed himself up as gingerly as he could manage, grunting a little and glancing over toward the kitchen.
“I’ve gotta take my pills. The last thing I need is another infection.” He took a step in that direction, hesitating and glancing down at the table before reaching over and picking up one of the remaining pieces of chocolate, placing it on his tongue and smiling down at Aaron with a little wink.
“Leave it to you to expose my true weakness.” He laughed again, beginning the painful journey into the kitchen.
“You can go ahead and climb into bed, sweetheart. I’ll be right behind you.”
Aaron had to laugh. The good sweats. It was really adorable.
“Well, I’ll think of something. And nothing is ever wasted on you, Alli.” He pressed another soft kiss to Alex’s cheek.
Sure, it would’ve been nice to have passionate reunion sex once Alex was back from Syria, but considering everything that happened they both knew it wasn’t an option. That didn’t mean they couldn’t do it at some other point in time. They were, after all, both alive and Alex would recover.
“Hey, I’m not that old. And of course I sleep.”
Aaron wasn’t quite offended because he knew Alex was joking…but also, he knew Alex wasn’t all that wrong. He was getting older, and it was showing. Aaron knew, however, how concerned Alex always was about him not getting enough rest or downtime, so if he could take that concern from him, it was still a win.
“Yes, take your pills like the old men we are.”
The words might be harsh, but Aaron’s voice was too soft for them to have any real bite. He winked at Alex, and reached for the comforter to carry it back to the bed so Alex wouldn’t have to do it. It was easier for him. Plus, this must have been the first time in more than two weeks Aaron had fallen asleep peacefully and without any help from sleeping pills. Not exactly something to be proud of under normal circumstances, but it was definitely a relief.
Aaron got into bed, just waiting for Alex to join him. It was good to be here. Good to be holding Alex, to see him eat, to tease him and tell him he loved him. It was all necessary, and Aaron wished he could do it everyday for the rest of their lives.
Alex’s bed was comfortable and Aaron found himself snuggled in already by the time Alex arrived. He held up the blanket so Alex could get in – and Aaron would be in the perfect position to be big spoon again. Maybe being held would allow for Alex to finally find some sleep, too. Now, in the bed together, Aaron decided it would probably fine to ask Alex about his injuries once more. Just a little thing.
“So it gets worse when you don’t move?”
Kinder by the Kill
Hostility.
Loathing.
Revenge.
Elizabeth had grown up in a household that warned her of these things, told her that they would take over her life if she let them, and for a while, she heeded their warnings. However, when her younger sister fell ill and died from purchasing unclean coke, those warnings that once shouted became quiet whispers for Elizabeth. No one believed that Peggy would be wrapped in that kind of world, but Elizabeth knew how controlling their father could be, she knew how tempting a sense of freedom could be.
She left her day job and gave herself no time to grieve, immediately thinking of a plan of attack. She needed to get known and quickly, but not by using her father’s name who was a senator. Instead, Elizabeth took her mother’s maiden name and shortened it, legally becoming Elizabeth Renssel, a completely new identity. She found that, actually, it was incredibly easy to start over, to delete the old her from existence. Once that was done, she spent so long tracking down the biggest drug ring in the city, knowing they had a hand in her sister’s untimely death.
It took nearly a year for the syndicate to notice her: a year of selling drugs on their territory, a year of threats, a year of negotiating. Hardly anyone expected a bubbly young woman to pull a switchblade out with an unwavering smile, so she was finally let in as a mule who was constantly underestimated and overlooked, but she didn’t mind. Elizabeth was planning on requesting a meeting with her boss and killing him right then and there, not caring if her life was taken in the process.
Peggy had been everything to her, and he ripped that away with a careless mistake, so Elizabeth went from fighting years upon years of abuse to building a rep and finally starting to have people answer to her. She was slowly becoming well respected with hardly any mistakes tied to her name during her time at the syndicate, and she found that manipulating others was easily one of her best skills.
When she felt like she was ready, Elizabeth spoke to a few connections of hers, requesting to see the man they all worked for to discuss a solution to a problem she had secretly created. The process was lengthy, tedious, and repetitive, but Elizabeth persisted. Eventually, after growing tired of her, they only gave her a time and place to meet and nothing else.
She wasn’t complaining as she walked up to the rendezvous point, toying with her frayed sweater sleeve. The night was frigid, but her anger and lust for her boss’s blood kept her warm. Elizabeth walked up to a group of men, head high while her hair blew around her face in the breeze. “Excuse me? My name is Elizabeth. I’m here to meet with- Well, actually, I’m not sure what his name is,“ she introduced in a meek voice and a soft, nervous laugh.
@prodigyofprinxetoncollege
The last year had been hard for Aaron. After one of his dealers had cut the pure cocaine for some rich kid’s party, which had led to 17 dead teenagers, including the senator’s youngest daughter, it had been his job to make sure this wouldn’t get pinned on the syndicate. Hell, if push had come to shove, he would have made sure it was only him behind bars, and not Jefferson or Madison. But he’d told them he would handle it, and he had handled it. He’d killed Lair, the guy who’d done it, in front of his other dealers, to make sure they understood he wasn’t going to tolerate them trying to steal from him.
So whatever was going on in Queens – it was really nothing compared to what Aaron had gone through during the last year. He had to make sure the government agencies on their tail hadn’t found the real evidence left behind, while simultaneously planting wrong evidence to lead them to their competition. It had all worked out. The FBI still believed that this mediocre wanna-be drug cartel around Georgie – who called himself the third, but no one else did – had been behind the death of all these kids. Aaron had restored his standing within the syndicate and simultaneously proven he was worthy of being in charge of the most profitable part of the black market this cartel was dealing in.
Despite that, Renssel better had a solution already planned out. Aaron picked his people carefully, and she had joined the ranks during a time when he had been extra careful to avoid any spies making their way into the ranks. There had been one, Alexander Faucette, who almost had Aaron fooled. Almost. In the end, he wasn’t that easily misled.
So Aaron would regard Elizabeth Renssel exactly like any other of his dealers: With the knowledge that if necessary, he could shoot them anytime and find someone to take their place within twenty-four hours. But also with the knowledge that these people risked their lives and freedom for this job every day. And Elizabeth was running part of Queens. She wasn’t just any low-life.
Aaron’s limousine came to park in front of the hotel the meeting would be in, and he got out without leaving instructions with the driver. By now, the man knew his MO. He went to the reception, picked up his card, smiled at the receptionist.
“Please deposit a second card to my room. I’m waiting for a friend. Her name is Elise Manner.”
Aaron, of course, had checked in under a false name as well. The concierge nodded knowingly, no doubt believing Aaron was going to meet either his mistress or a prostitute. But what did he care about what this man thought, anything was better than him knowing the truth.
He made his way upstairs, swiped the room for bugs. Then he waited.
Five miles from his hotel, his driver and a few other men were waiting to pick Elizabeth Renssler up.
“We’ll bring you to him. Here’s your ID. You’ll show it to the concierge, ask for the room card deposited for Elise Manner.”
One of the men patted her down to make sure she had no weapon on her, then they held the door open for her to get in. The limousine was warm and comfy after the cold night air.
Despite all of his well-practiced poise, Jefferson could feel the cracking of his perpetual mask of confidence, his smug grinning loosening as his lips parted in a moment of bemusement. Was Aaron really talking back to him? Was he actually putting his pride before his ambition?
Thomas found himself in stricken silence as he listened to Aaron tell him off, the determination in the other’s voice and eyes creating an almost haunting visual, provoking the memory of a memory, hazy yet certain. As quickly as they had appeared, the pangs of anxiety began to fade, the unforeseen turn of events suddenly and undeniably becoming almost comically amusing.
“Really, Aaron, I expected more out of you this time.” Thomas planted his hands on his hips, chin turned up slightly as he watched the man walk away. He might have been the one to lose this particular battle, and while defeat wasn’t something to which he was accustomed, it also wasn’t something he was prepared to sit back and simply accept.
“Good luck, Burr! Do us all a favor and shoot him in the mouth this go-round, hm?” He snorted quietly at his own twisted joke, watching after the other man a moment longer before turning on his heels and going back into the establishment to have his meal. Hell, maybe he’d ask that brat, Laurens, to join him. At least the conversation would be entertaining.
—
His little coffee break with Maria was comforting, that much was true, but only until Alexander began to be plagued with thoughts of all he should be doing. In the time it took him to finish that one cup of coffee he had allowed himself, he could have finished one of Aaron’s assignments and at least two of his own. But he did enjoy talking to someone about something that wasn’t law or Aaron, and, he reasoned with himself, he could always make up lost time by waking up a little earlier than usual.
And that line of reasoning was exactly what had him rushing to the library minutes before they unlocked their doors, finding and checking out an armful of materials he needed to complete Aaron’s current course-work, and hurrying back to his own room to brew some strong coffee and get an early start. But, then, the best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men gang aft a-gley, as the saying went, and Thomas Goddamn Jefferson seemed to have made it his purpose in life to guarantee that to be the case when it came to Alexander.
He hit the man like a brick wall, Alex turning a corner with haste, stumbling backward and losing his grip on the few books he hadn’t been able to fit into his pack.
“Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you -” He was already bending down to scoop up the texts when that familiar and oh-so-annoying voice cut his apology and his movements short.
“You really should be more careful, Hamilton. Those books are government property.” Alex snapped his gaze up to the tall figure looming over him, his irritation evident on his face.
“Jesus Christ. Do you actually know how to say “hello,” Tommy, or do you just greet everyone by bulldozing into them?”
“Oh, no… only those whom I really, truly despise. You should feel privileged.”
“How can I argue with that? You are the leading authority on privilege, after all.” He smiled up at Jefferson, rising up from the ground with the books in his arms again, moving forward without hesitation.
“Have a terrible fucking day, Jefferson. Try not to knock down any old ladies in your quest to be noticed, will ya?”
“Always something to say… you might actually be quite charming if you could learn to keep your mouth shut. How fortunate for me that you seem incapable of that. Oh, which reminds me -” Alex had slowed to a stop by this point, and the clearly intentional silence that hung on the end of that unfinished statement prompted him to turn around begrudgingly, regretting it the moment he laid eyes on Jefferson’s cocky smile.
“Aaron thought he might have forgotten a few things in your room. I think he felt a touch awkward bringing it up to you. But we know how he is… Mr. Congeniality. I keep telling him that honesty is the best policy, but he just can’t bring himself to burn any bridges, even if they only lead to a dead end.”
“Wow. Just… wow.” Alex was chuckling, shaking his head and giving Jefferson an incredulous look. Admittedly, he knew that his instantaneous turn to sarcasm was only a defense against the way Jefferson’s words had caused his heart to drop and his gut to twist, the implications causing his mind to race. Just as the other had intended, no doubt.
“And they call me shameless. You’re so full of shit, Jefferson.”
“Hm.” Jefferson’s smile didn’t fade, and he studied Alex calmly a moment before shrugging nonchalantly and turning away.
“No worries. I’ll replace whatever you took from him. Saves us both the trouble of having to be in the same room as you.” And, with that, he was walking away, Alex grinding his teeth in annoyance. The man always had to have the last word. It was infuriating, but Alex wasn’t sure he could stomach another moment of conversation with him, so he swallowed down the less-than-friendly comment on his tongue and continued on his way to his dorm, telling himself every step of the way that Jefferson had been lying, but finding his own reassurances to be far less convincing than he’d have liked.
Aaron heard Jefferson’s last jibe but didn’t bother reacting. What was the point, really? And he didn’t want to risk turning around and letting Jefferson see the very real fear in his eyes. He’d said what he wanted to say, his exit had been as suave as he could manage, better leave while he was ahead.
For the most part, Aaron felt relieved. Fear and worry were already waiting in the wings to take over, but for now, he was simply happy he didn’t have to spend another minute with Jefferson of all people. No more acting as if he hated Alex, no more enduring Jefferson’s condescending remarks. It felt like leaving an abusive relationship. (Which was probably just what it was.)
Aaron pulled out his phone to look up where he was and where he needed to, and found out that if he walked for forty minutes, he’d be back on campus. He decided to do that instead of taking a bus, he could use some time to think.
First of all, he needed to keep Alex safe. He couldn’t see himself shooting him, but it would be safer to keep his distance. It would be best if he could keep Jefferson away from Alex as well, but he had never been able to control Jefferson, not even while they were close. So on that front he could really only call George on and hope he’d do the job for him. He had his number. Aaron was seriously considering to call immediately. But he hated talking to George. And he didn’t want to exchange one condescending voice for another. He sighed and kept walking.
So, what to do with the rest of the day? It was only afternoon. Aaron was almost tempted to laugh when a part of him he’d been trying to bury reminded him that he had a lecture today. Yeah, he could do that. Get his stuff, show up for his lecture. That would be something useful to do. And he hadn’t done anything useful in the past week. Week and a half. He could sit down and try to get back into his assignments – he had already created outlines, one of them was almost done and only needed a final proofread. A final proofread really should be doable, right?
Aaron smiled to himself, maybe he could do this. Maybe he could handle this. Maybe he could even afford a couple more hours with Altsoba if he used every last penny he’d saved. He let his phone slide back into his pocket, having memorized where to turn for the next two crossings.
Of course, Aaron’s new-found optimism had failed to take into consideration that the universe hated him and was out to get him. Never really though, otherwise it would’ve killed him already. So Aaron was walking by a small patch of green when the headache set in – not gradually this time, but slamming him sideways like a sledgehammer. He caught himself on all fours on the grass, making sure he wouldn’t fall into traffic when the memory came, but that was all he could do before his vision went black.
“Are you Aaron Burr, sir?”
“That depends, who’s asking?” Aaron turned around, smiling, not expecting this – a man, about his age, a little too thin, clothes worn and old, eyes that seemed so bright and curious Aaron couldn’t look away. And he was talking a mile a minute.
“Sh, slow down. Let me buy you a drink. Let’s talk in a tavern.”
“Won’t say no to a free drink.” Aaron chuckled, yeah, that’s what you look like, he thought.
They talked for multiple hours. Aaron hadn’t expected Alexander, as he had introduced himself, to be so clever without any formal education, but he’d done his reading. And he seemed hell-bent on impressing Aaron. It was almost cute.
That’s when John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan and Lafayette walked in. Aaron got up, ready to excuse himself. Alexander wanted to stay and meet new people, nothing surprising.
“Don’t let me cut your evening short, Mr. Hamilton. I hope you have a pleasant night.”
“I hope so too.” Alex lowered his voice. “Although I doubt it’ll get any more pleasant without you.”
For a moment, Aaron was quiet. He’d very much caught the double-meaning, and he could see in Alexander’s eyes the other had registered it. Damn it, after Bellamy Aaron had vowed to himself he wouldn’t indulge his sinful side again. And he would stay true to his vow.
“Who knows,” he replied, purposefully neutral, although Alex’s gaze seemed knowing enough that it might be too late. “Until we meet again, Mr. Hamilton.”
“Mr. Burr, Sir.” Alex bowed a little, then he disappeared. Aaron left the tavern, not knowing he’d just met not only his soulmate, but also the man who would eventually be his downfall.
When Aaron blinked his eyes open, he was surrounded by unfamiliar faces. Someone was holding up his legs, another person was holding his hand to take his pulse.
“He’s awake!”
Aaron blinked again, weakly trying to get his wrist back. The woman holding it, well into her fifties and with a strict gaze that spoke of years of treating unruly patients, was having none of it.
“Well, that was quick. Do we need to call an ambulance?”
“Now that I’m awake again? Why?”
She only raised an eyebrow at him and mentioned for the younger man holding Aaron’s legs up to lower them to the earth.
“Who knows, you might have a condition. I was on the other side of the street when you fell, you’ve only been out for about two minutes. You were breathing normally and your pulse was regular, so I thought that you simply fainted.”
She had been monitoring his pulse through their conversation, now she decided to let go.
“Young healthy men don’t just keel over like that.”
Aaron shrugged as best as he could in his lying position.
“I had a few drinks.”
“Ah.” She sounded reprimanding, but willing to accept that for now. The small crowd around him was beginning to disperse. “Do you want me to accompany you to the next hospital? There’s one not far from here, right at the-“
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
She looked at him again, a sadness in her eyes Aaron didn’t quite understand.
“Alright.”
She stood up, offering him her hand. After a few seconds, he accepted.
“Thank you…for your help.” Aaron looked down while saying it, but he could see her nod.
“Take care of yourself, young man.”
She didn’t even know his name, Aaron realized. He was truly lucky she’d been around – one of the other bystanders might have called an ambulance otherwise, and he had been perfectly fine, after all. No need to concern this helpful doctor with his crazy visions of his past life.
Aaron slowly continued his way to campus, pissed and annoyed both that the memory had happened, and that it served as a stark reminder why he couldn’t just go to class. If he were to pass out like that in front of everyone…or worse, during an exam, it would be disastrous. Taking out his phone again, he started to type a text to George.
[Aaron {unsent}] Hey, I think Jefferson might try to get to Alex during the next couple days.
It sounded paranoid, it sounded stupid. Aaron deleted the text. Besides, what was there that Jefferson could do to Alexander except mock him? And Alex was strong, and wittier than Jefferson. Phone in hand, only ten minutes from campus, Aaron was trying to decide what to do. Call Bellamy? No, he wouldn’t stop asking questions. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Theo’s name. If anyone would understand, it would be her.
“Aaron?”
She answered before the second ring, Aaron was genuinely surprised.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Oh. I was waiting for a call.”
“I can hear that. You sound rather disappointed it’s just me.”
Theo laughed. “Don’t take it personally, you remember that girl I met some time ago? Looks like an angel? Peggy Shippen?”
Aaron nodded to himself. “Yeah,” he replied. Theo wasn’t exaggerating – Peggy looked like an angel.
“You think she’ll call you?”
“I know she’ll call me. With all that went down with you and Alex I didn’t have the time to tell you, but remember Halloween when I asked George to take me to this afterparty? She was there too. We danced for quite some time.”
“Oha.” Aaron’s intonation made it clear he highly doubted dancing was the only thing that had happened.
“Ha, cut it out. You don’t get to talk given the way you groped Alex on the dancefloor.” There was a short pause, before she continued. “Sorry. Anyway, we exchanged numbers and we’re planning to go out tonight. She said she’d call once she knows where exactly. You know I usually pick venues and I got one in case she doesn’t have anything but she doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who says “I don’t know” when you ask her what she wants.”
Aaron smiled, although Theo couldn’t see it.
“Happy to hear that.”
He couldn’t ruin this for her. She had been single for quite some time, and Aaron wanted her to be happy.
“Well, then I guess what I want can wait till tomorrow.”
“What did you want?”
“Just to cry about Alex some more. But I guess Bellamy will have to do.”
Theo chuckled. “I’ll be there for you tomorrow. Don’t take it too hard, Aaron. It’s a big sea, many fish, no need to cry about the one that got away.”
Aaron nodded. “Yeah, let’s talk tomorrow. Have fun tonight. Use protection.”
She laughed before hanging up. Aaron stared at the phone in his hand. He was almost on campus. But there was a bar nearby, not exactly a nice place, but cheap. Just what he needed. It only took him a few minutes to get there, sit down at the bar, and order. The bartender looked at him with what could only be called pity.
“You okay, man?”
Aaron took his first shot. It burned its way down his throat nicely.
“Bad breakup. Another.”
The bartender just nodded, gave him an understanding smile. Refilled his glass and moved on. The bartender was the only one Aaron bothered talking to. Well, that and the one time he let someone buy him a drink. He wasn’t interested, but hey, free alcohol. At least it wasn’t Jefferson. The poor guy had to realize very quickly that Aaron wasn’t really interested. Next time the bartender stopped by, he raised an eyebrow at Aaron being alone again.
“Not your type?”
“Not looking for a rebound.”
“Ah. Well then.”
He poured Aaron another shot. “On the house.”
Aaron opened his mouth to refuse. But the guy had already moved on. After that, it all became a bit of a blur. He seriously went home with the bartender. He giggled on the way to Marco’s flat – which was bartender’s name, and while playing with the guy’s long dark hair, Aaron suddenly had a revelation why he’d said yes when the guy had asked if he really wasn’t looking for a rebound.
The sex was okay. Marco’s hair was beautiful. He had deep brown eyes. He wasn’t as clever as Alexander, or as good in finding out what Aaron liked, but it was fine. Aaron closed his eyes and buried his hands in that hair and it was almost enough.
When he woke up the next morning, it was to a rather messy apartment. Marco had one arm thrown over his chest, and Aaron carefully moved away so as not to wake him. He contemplated showering, but he really wanted to be gone before the guy woke up. While putting on his clothes, Aaron realized he’d never had a real one night stand before. It had always either been after a bunch of dates, or, with Alex, one night that had lead to a relationship. For a moment, Aaron wondered why Alex was so into one night stands. Sure, it could be as good as it had been with them, but this? Wasn’t all that great.
Maybe Aaron didn’t know how to pick ‘em. He closed the door behind him and made his way home. It was only 7am. Bellamy wasn’t in their living room or kitchen when Aaron arrived and he was happy to find the bathroom empty as well. He stripped and enjoyed the hot water, washing away the smell of alcohol and sex. The touch of not-quite Alex.
