57-38

Title: 57-38

Chapter: Three

Word Count: 2,777





Ahahahahahaaaaaaaaa yeah I’m really lame and all, sorry for the long wait. >_>;



Thanks for all the lovely feedback! It’s really, really appreciated ^^



Please enjoy!







Chapter Three: Alex





Alex had phoned ahead to tell his driver that he was on his way out the door. By the time he and Drake walked through the complex’s fanciful exit and into the main parking area, the man had pulled the car round to the front, and was waiting patiently for Alex with his hand on the door handle.



“Thank you waiting, Samuel,” Alex offered politely as the chauffer opened the door for him. Alex folded gracefully into the car. The vehicle was a modestly sized limousine, black and shiny in the parking area lights, and not of a particularly new design. Alex had always preferred to save expenses in some areas, to be free to spend them in others.



“Of course, sir,” Samuel replied, touching his fingers to his forehead and bowing. He then stepped aside as Drake leaned half into the vehicle as well.



“Where would you like him, sir?” In his arms, the slave blinked a bit, his lazy eyes adjusting to the suddenly dim lighting.



“I’ll take him,” Alex answered, reaching his own hands out to collect the boy. He knew it couldn’t have been more than an hour since he’d last had his hands on the slave, but he found that his fingers were already itching to feel the soft skin again. Darryl’s right, he thought as Drake carefully transferred the dazed boy to Alex, I am turning into an old lecher.



Once the boy was positioned carefully upon Alex’s lap, his shoulder’s cradled in the one of the larger man’s arms, Alex reached into his pocket and removed a fifty note bill. He handed it generously to Drake, who’s eyes widened at the considerably large tip.



“For dragging the poor lad about for me,” Alex clarified kindly, smiling. Drake hesitated for a moment, as though he thought that perhaps Alex was joking and would suddenly snatch the bill away, but then reached forward and accepted the money with quick fingers and a reverently uttered, “Thank you, sir!”



Samuel shut the door gently before rounding the front of the vehicle and sliding himself into the driver’s seat, sparing a moment to dutifully buckle his seatbelt. “Home, sir?” he questioned pleasantly.



“Yes,” Alex replied, glancing up to the back of the man’s black-capped head as he slid the keys into the ignition. He was silent for a few long moments, then said, a bit wryly, “Do you think Darryl and Zavian will enjoy their new gift?”



The smile was clearly audible in Samuel’s voice. “Oh, I’m sure they will, sir. But are you certain it’s not also a gift to yourself?”



Alex chuckled at that, the hand that wasn’t clasped behind the boy’s shoulders moving absently down his tunic-covered torso, coming finally to rest on the narrow hip. “Oh dear,” he answered once the laughter had subsided, “it seems I’m not as clever as I thought.”



“Hardly, sir,” Samuel affirmed, the words peppered with mirth.



The drive fell into silence after that, the bright lights of the city illuminating the limo’s dark interior like small flashes of distant lightening. Alex allowed his eyes to drift downward onto the boy clasped gently in his arms. His boy - his new slave. He’d been considering acquiring a third for a long while, and it seemed such a relief now that he’d finally gotten round to purchasing one, even if it had been a bargain buy. He knew Darryl and Zavian would be pleased. He thought of what their faces might do upon seeing the boy’s lovely face for the first time, what they might say of the perfectly pale-gold skin - he’d really managed to find a glowing little treasure.



For the present, the boy lay draped languidly across Alex’s lap, quiet and mild from the drugs that still pumped heavily through his system. He seemed to be a bit more alert now than he had been at the complex, his hazel eyes darting back and forth in the dim light of the cabin, trying to follow the zipping lights of the world outside. Alex collected the lad a bit closer, the hand resting on the slim hip sliding upward to caress the flat belly. It wasn’t quite the same as before, what with the ashen canvas tunic stretched somewhat irritatingly between Alex’s flesh and the boy’s, but Alex still found himself enjoying the touch, nevertheless. He contentedly admired the way the slave’s belly pushed gently upward and down again with every small breath, his eyes fixed on the soft, full arches of the boy’s lips, the perfect roundedness of his small chin. A silent sigh escaped Alex’s own lips, then, his eyes fluttering shut, a privately amused expressing swelling across his features. It seems I’m already smitten with him, he thought comically, though I suppose I never really stood a chance.







After tipping Samuel generously for his services, Alex gingerly pulled the slave boy close to his chest and entered the elegantly dressed and draped lobby of the Volta, one of the city’s more fashionable and well-to-do apartment complexes. It wasn’t entirely exclusive or posh enough for the politicians, but it suited the politicians’ agents just fine.



He declined the bellhop’s offered assistance as he crossed the building’s large threshold, and made straight for the elevators at the far end. As he walked through the expansive lobby, the slave’s confused, murky eyes darted wildly back and fourth, tracking the large golden orbs of the hanging chandeliers, the rich crimson draperies and upholstered chairs of the various seating areas, the glinting, fractured flecks of light reflecting off the glasses of the bar area, the other people bustling around them, dressed in flashy gowns and robes with shimmering jewelry and watches and hairpieces as they made their way out for the night’s social gatherings; Alex suddenly felt the boy’s muscles tense, the hands which rested carelessly on his slim chest grabbing a bit clumsily at the grey tunic. A brief wave of sympathy passed through him. The boy, drugged and most likely unable to make much sense of what he was seeing, was probably feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the visual stimulants. Alex hurried into the elevator, giving his floor number to the waiting employee, and leaned easily against the polished wood-paneled wall as the doors slid gracefully closed.



When at last Alex reached his door, he found he slightly regretted not accepting the bellhop’s help as he struggled to punch his security code into the lock pad, which sat securely in the wall just to the left of the door.



At last, though, he managed, slowly but surely getting the fingers of one of his hands to the small keypad and punching the code in. When at last the code was confirmed, the small screen just above the keypad came to life, an electronic female voice chiming merrily from the equally small speaker.



“Welcome home, Mr. Hayd,” it said politely. “Please wait while your identity is confirmed.”



Alex heard the same small click he’d heard hundreds of times before as the device in the wall took his photograph, and then proceeded to compare his face in the hyper-pixilated image to the one already found in the system, matching his facial structures all the way down to his skeleton to prove his claimed identity. All in all, the process took no more than two or three seconds, and soon the door was sliding open and Alex was stepping through. It slid shut immediately in his wake.



Alex had been in his home for no longer than a few mere seconds before a soft, rich male voice toned from some distant, unseen room.



“Sir? Is that you?”



Alex waited patiently, listening to the soft breathing of the boy in his arms, for a few moments as low footsteps began to approach. At last Darryl rounded the corner into the foyer, dark-rimmed glasses perched low on his nose, lovely black hair pulled back just as it always was, and similarly black eyebrows arched high at the sight that greeted him.



Alex broke out in something of a smug grin just as Darryl’s lip’s formed a surprised smirk of their own.



“Oh, I knew it,” he said in a voice that was teasingly accusing, but riddled with shots of delight. “You old rascal. I knew you couldn’t resist!”



“Yes, well,” Alex replied as he stepped through the foyer and into the large, elegant main living area, Darryl happily at his heels. “I think I can rather safely assume that I’m not the only old rascal - as you so respectfully termed it - present in this room.” He shot a pointed but humorous glare in Darryl’s direction.



The man placed his fingers to his forehead, bowing in an overly exuberant fashion. “Oh, do pardon me, sir,” he said with barely contained wit.



Alex allowed the small bit of laughter that had been building in his chest escape, turning his eyes from the man at his side to the boy in his arms. “Alright, alright,” he said between chuckles, “enough of your sass.” Though the words were a reprimand, Alex spoke them warmly.



He began to move through the main room, making his way past the dining room and den areas, breezing by the open kitchen, and at last moved through a short hallway that led to the master bedroom. Darryl entered behind him, flipping the light switch and illuminating the room in soft, inviting light. The space was simply themed and decorated, the walls painted a soft honey color, the carpet thick and soft and off-white, the polished dark wood pieces of furniture pushed to the walls for the room to feel open and welcoming. The large bed sat comfortably in the center of the far wall, the large headboard reflecting the soothing light, the cream colored sheets draping over the sides and all the way down to the ground. Alex had always been a fan of simplicity, and the sentiment was noticeably reflected in his personal refuge.



He gave a brief, subtle nod to the right, indicating the large windows lining the right wall which looked out over the city. The lights of the metropolis glowed faintly blue and green, lighting the night sky. “Close those,” he spoke easily to Darryl, who quickly moved to follow the instruction. Soon the room was completely shut off from the outside world, separated by the heavy cream curtains drawn over the face of the windows.



Alex padded quietly over the to bed, gently lowering the small body in his arms down atop the sheets, pulling back the covers and sliding the limbs beneath their soft warmth. The boy turned his dazed eyes to Alex, starring at him curiously as the man tucked him in. Alex smiled sweetly, carding his fingers through the soft, deep blond hair.



Darryl offered a breathy chuckle from the corner. “Can’t wait a moment longer?” he said teasingly, watching with intent as Alex arranged the boy beneath the blankets. “Not that you could be blamed, of course, with a face like that.”



“Don’t try to make it seem as though you’re not eager, yourself,” Alex teased back as he finished his task, straightening up and admiring the small round face that was still gazing up at him, confused and inquisitive. The lids, however, were beginning to droop over the large hazel eyes. Alex turned his own eyes to Darryl, smirking good-humouredly. “You can’t fool me. I can tell you’re already counting down the minutes until you can get your hands on him.”



Darryl smiled dazzlingly. “Of course. What else am I supposed to do, when you bring a pretty little thing home for us to play with?”



“Very true. Where’s Zavian?”



Darryl thought a moment before replying. “He was in the reading room, last I saw him. Probably didn’t hear you come in.”



“Fetch him, would you?” Alex watched as Darryl offered a small, respectful bow. “I have a feeling he’d like to meet our newest addition.”



Darryl breezed quickly from the room, leaving Alex alone in the room with his sleepy new acquisition. As he watched the slave breath, the boy’s eyes falling shut, he couldn’t help but feel a small, guilty pang of impatience. Alex knew all too well that the boy most needed rest right now, and that anything more than that was likely to confuse or startle him, but dammit if he couldn’t wait to have his arms around the young fellow, or to feel those soft, lovely pink lips. He shook his head slowly; Alex was no adolescent - he could wait patiently for the boy to wake, and he certainly would. It would be distasteful to have the lad in such a drugged state, anyway.



Moments later Darryl strode gracefully back into the room with a tall, dark, sinewy man following in his wake, lumbering in large, easy strides. His skin was the color of coffee with cream, his eyes brown and narrow, and his hair coarse and short and black. The strands stuck up at odd angles on one side, most likely from having a hand run through it one too many times. A large, lopsided grin smeared its way across his face as he saw the small form nestled cozily beneath the sheets, his brown eyes darting back and forth between the boy and Alex.



“Aw, geeze, sir,” Zavian said as his shoved his hands deep into his pockets and leaned against the doorframe. “I can’t believe you actually got one! I almost didn’t believe Darryl here when he said you had, but,” his eyes finally settled on the face poking out from the mass of blankets, “damn.”



“Language, Zavian,” Alex scolded half-heartedly.



“Sorry, sir,” Zavian replied with a grin, not seeming the least bit apologetic. “You’ll be understanding if I’m a little excited, and all.” He suddenly loped further into the room, standing on the opposite side of the bed as Alex and bending a bit to get a better look at the boy. “Man, what a face. That’s really something, sir. I don’t think I’ve ever seen hair that color. Really nice.” He straightened back up and admired the boy’s face for a few more quiet seconds. Then, without warning, his nose crinkled and creased a bit, making him look as though he’d just popped a lemon between his lips. “Is he up on those drugs right now? Looks like it. I bet they drugged the living lights out of him.”



Alex frowned a bit, nodding. “I’m afraid so. They said it’d take about twenty-four hours for the drugs to leave his system, so I don’t suspect he’ll be properly awake until tomorrow afternoon. Why? Is this bringing back any fond memories?” he joked idly.



Zavian unwrinkled his nose, rolling his dark eyes about in their sockets at the recollection. “I hated when they put me on those things. One minute they’re forcing you to drink this water with the most awful aftertaste you’ve ever had in your mouth, the next, everything’s all bright and smeary and confusing, and then, finally, you wake up in some stranger’s house, wondering how the fu-- how the heck you ended up there.” He suddenly shot an appreciative smile in Alex’s direction. “Of course, it does work out every once in a while.”



Alex smiled humorously back. “Well, maybe for you.”



Zavian snorted loudly in reply, but his attention was already back on the sleeping boy in the bed.



“Are you going to be spending the night with him, sir?” Darryl asked suddenly, working his way back into the conversation. “Will you be needing anything?”



Alex shook his head. “I’ll only be sleeping beside him. I can’t touch him when he’s in such a state.” Alex finally thought to remove his jacket, and slipped if off his shoulders to place into Darryl’s already outstretched arm. “Although I would like to have a pitcher of water handy when I go to bed, should he wake up before morning.”



Darryl pulled the jacket to his chest and kept his place, not making any move towards the door. A devious little smile slipped onto his lips, his summer blues eyes squinting a bit at the corners. “And who sleeps beside him tomorrow night?”



“That would be me, again,” Alex said, shooting the smile back at Darryl with equal intensity. “But after that, I suppose I’ll have to let you two fight over him.”



“Oh, if it’s a fight, I’ll definitely win,” Zavian said mirthfully.



“Unless it’s a battle of wits,” Darryl corrected, with equal mirth. Alex barked out a sudden guffaw, and brought a quick hand up to cover his mouth for Zavian’s sake.









Aaaaaand that’s all for now, folks. Let me know what you think!