Writerverse: Table of Doom - Excuses

Jun 10, 2013 10:43

Possibly the beginning chapter for I Prefer the Mind Control. Dylan has a *totally* different relationship with the Bonnie character in this version. Enjoy! :)

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Do you have any good excuses for why a perfectly upstanding student like me might not have his math homework done? Hey, don’t look at me like that -- I am an upstanding student. Well, it depends on what your meaning of “upstanding” is. Fine, I suck as a student, okay? Don’t look at me like that -- shouldn’t you be doing your math homework instead of writing me? What’s your excuse?

Anyway, I’m sitting at one of the wooden study cubicles in the library, trying to figure out these, um...permutations. That’s what these weird things are, I think. It’s not going so well, so I sigh and stare at the ceiling It’s missing a tile -- educational budget cuts up to here mean less money to repair “nonessentials” like a ceiling that looks like it might try to attack you at any second. While I suck as a student, I do know about fucking budget cuts.

Grumbling, I slam my textbook shut and glare at the stupid green dice on the cover. What’s the probability that Professor Moore with eviscerate me when I don’t have this done? Very fucking high. He’s not the type to accept excuses, even good ones, unless you have like ten thousand doctor’s notes and a signed pardon from the President of the National States herself. I guess it was silly to even ask you for an excuse. You’re not the President.

At least I have until Monday to finish my fucking homework? After I stuff my things into my backpack, I decide the problem might well be a serious lack of caffeine. I decide to go to SynthBrew, the coffee shop right outside the library. Smart location choice, yeah?

As I leave the library, I run into my classmate Jamie. She’s getting a perfect fucking score in the class -- and never lets anybody forget it.

She smiles brightly at me, but it’s about as friendly as a fucking viper. “Oh, did you finish your homework already, Dylan?” she asks in a tone of voice that says she knows I haven’t even really started.

“I finished it and found a cure for the common cold in the pages of the textbook while I was at it,” I mutter, not looking directly at her.

“Very funny.” Jamie narrows her eyes.

“Whatever. Anyway, I gotta go get coffee -- there’s more blood than caffeine in my blood, which is just not cool,” I say. I brush past her without waiting for a response.

Unfortunately, the line at SynthBrew is several billion miles longs. And then some. It snakes between the plastic barriers set up so more students can be squeezed together to wait for their desperately needed caffeine.

Still, I get on that line because I would need a good fucking reason not to get my coffee. Too bad there’s, like, one barista. How is that smart? What, does the school only have enough money for one because of those fucking budget cuts? To distract myself, I look at the menu board things. They’re made of translucent black plastic, and the lettering on them is digital-font green because SynthBrew is “the future of coffee.” Some sci-fi writer who went to this school wrote a series where coffee was called “SynthBrew,” so they named the place after it. Cooler than having a plaque with your name on it, right?

“Does the line always move this slowly?” someone with an odd, but strangely sexy, accent asks from behind me. Are they talking to me? And what is that accent?

Even if they’re not talking to me, I turn around to look at the speaker anyway. And my jaw hits the fucking floor. He’s Zimaran -- got the metallic eyes and everything. His are bronze, and oh fuck is he gorgeous. His features look human, only not -- there’s something alien about them I can’t accurately describe, kinda like his accent. People say the Zimarans are something straight out of the Uncanny Valley, but I think he’s from the Hot Valley. Besides the amazing eyes, he’s got deeply tanned skin, short, super shiny black hair and a lightly muscular body. Definitely from the Hot Valley.

Yeah, there are officially aliens among us -- aliens with sexy mind control powers. The Zimarans can, so they say, induce uncontrollable lust in people just by looking at them. The idea freaks most Earthlings out, but I would so be into it. Is this guy doing it to me now? Because I want him.

Oh fuck, I’m staring, aren’t I? My face burns. “Uh, were you, like, talking to me? Because why would such an impossibly hot alien guy be talking to me?” I mutter.

My face burns even worse. I’ve gotta be blushing bright red. Great, the first contact I have with someone from another fucking planet, and I act like a total dumbass. There’s a reason I’m not a diplomat.

The guy smiles at me, as if he’s not totally offended by how stupid I am. “Yes, I was talking to you.”

Is he not going to mention how I said he was hot? “Um...normally the line isn’t this fucking long.”

Wonderful, I start cursing in front of the guy when I have no idea if Zimarans are even okay with that. And this guy looks kinda high-class -- even I can tell his clothes are pretty fancy.

He’s still smiling. “At least I have someone cute to wait in line with me,” he says.

Wait, what?

I blink, because I can’t have heard that right. “You -- you think I’m cute?” I stammer.

“I do. And...it’s not often I meet a human who calls one of us attractive,” he says. He looks at me, and a weird shiver runs up my spine. This is so fucking surreal.

“Really? But you’ve got this ‘freaky hot’ thing going on,” I say. People might think the Zimarans are too Uncanny Valley, but...they’re hot. I take a deep breath to try to collect myself...and totally fucking fail at that.

He shrugs. “People don’t agree, but that’s their prerogative. Most humans are not too fond of our powers, either.”

“Sexy mind control? What’s not to like? I would be totally up for it.” My stomach sinks through the floor. That came out so wrong. I don’t want this guy to think I’m some desperate creep, as much as I want him. I look at the ground and continue, “You know, in theory. Like, I, um, think the idea is cool. I’m not, uh, trying to hit on you or anything.”

Does he look...disappointed? Yeah, right. “You’re not?” he says. “That’s too bad, because I wouldn’t be averse to taking you home.”

Wait, what?

“Ex-excuse me? Are you fucking serious?” I say. I grab the plastic line barrier because no way does he want me.

“I am. I hope that does not offend you,” he murmurs, smiling again.

“I’m -- I’m not offended. Just...surprised. Really surprised. But if you’re really serious, I would be up for it,” I say.

He offers me a hand to shake, while his smile turns into a ridiculously seductive grin. “I’m Xan, by the way. And what is your name?”

“Dylan.” I take his hand and shake it. When I touch him, my whole fucking self flushes, and my heart starts beating faster.

Xan lets go of my hand. “Why don’t we go somewhere a little more private? I think we have more important things to do than wait for coffee, yes?”

I nod. He takes my hand, and I follow him to a couch in an out-of-way hallway. This can’t be happening. We sit down on the couch. I drop my backpack onto the ground and, man, this really can’t be happening.

Out of nowhere, he leans forward and kisses me, and holy shit. Warmth fucking rockets through me, and I wrap my arms around him. He does the same, pressing his body to mine. When he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue forward, I totally let him. My heartbeat speeds up even more, and I just can’t get enough. After who knows how long, we pull apart.

“My girlfriend is not gonna believe this,” I breathe.

Xan’s eyes widen before his face falls. He backs away slightly. “You -- you have a girlfriend?”

Shit, I probably shouldn’t have mentioned Bonnie like that, even if she wouldn’t have any problem with this on account of our open relationship.

“Oh yeah, I have a girlfriend. But I like guys, too, and Bonnie’s totally okay with it if I wanna sleep with someone else. She does the same fucking thing,” I say, avoiding Xan’s eyes as I grab the side of the couch, feeling my stomach twist.

My girlfriend has slept with, like, I don’t even know how many people. It’s totally fucking cool because I know she likes me just fine. It does baffle me that Bonnie picked me as her number one person to actually like, but she has. Besides, all the sex she has with other people has taught her something interesting things. Will Xan get that, though?

He raises an eyebrow. It’s a good thing Zimarans have similar facial expressions to humans soI can understand what he’s thinking, but it’s not so good that he’s obviously skeptical.

“But you are human. It is not that common on your planet for partners to be okay with ‘sleeping around,’ as they say,” he mutters.

I chuckle, kinda nervously. “Yeah, it’s not the usual arrangement, but Bonnie and me...we, uh, like sex. If you think I’m bullshitting you, I can call her and have her confirm this.”

At least Xan doesn’t seem to mind that I can’t stop swearing? He hasn’t said anything about it, at least

His eyebrow arches even more. “Really now?” he murmurs.

“Really.” Before Xan can say anything else, I grab my phone out of my backpack and dial Bonnie’s number. I hope she fucking picks up. The phone rings like four times as I hold it to my ear, and my stomach starts sinking -- he’s gonna think I’m making shit up, isn’t he?

Just as I think the thing’s gonna go to voicemail, Bonnie answers her phone. “Hey, sexypants, how are you?”

“I met this guy at SynthBrew, and he’s totally hot. But I said I have a girlfriend. He’s Zimaran, and he doesn’t seem to think a human can actually have a girlfriend who’s okay with him sleeping around. So, uh, I called because I wanted to let him know you really exist and aren’t just like an incredibly sexy spambot lie or something,” I say. I look over at Xan, who watches me, still with his eyebrow kinda raised.

“Wait, you actually met one of the Zimarans?” I can hear her jaw drop.

“Yeah, aliens are among us. Smoking hot aliens,” I say, grinning, even though she can’t see me. “Would you, like, mind saying hello? I can put the phone on speaker.”

“S-sure,” she breathes, sounding fucking excited.

I press the button to put my phone on speaker mode. “Xan, why don’t you say hi?”

“Oh...hello,” he murmurs. There’s doubt all over his face.

“Hiiii,” Bonnie says. “This -- this is Bonnie, and, yeah, I’m really Dylan’s girlfriend, and yeah I’m totally cool with it if he wants to have sex with you. As long as you make sure he enjoys himself.”

Xan still looks super doubtful. There’s this long, awkward pause while I wonder how things will turn out. After all, this is a bizarre fucking situation.

He gets this huge smirk, and his eyes sparkle. “Oh, he’ll enjoy himself, I can assure you,” he says.

“Awesome,” Bonnie says. “Definitely awesome. Damn, I would love to chat with a real Zimaran, but I’ve got so much to do. So, yeah, see you later.”

“See you later,” Xan murmurs.

“Bye Bonnie, love you,” I say, shifting against the couch. My face wants to split in half from how much I’m grinning.

“Love you too, sexypants,” she says.

She hangs up, and I put my phone away. Xan drapes an arm around me and pulls me closer to him. His eyes sparkle so fucking intensely. My body’s, like, quivering with how much I want this.

“So, you weren’t lying about your girlfriend. That was all a bit strange, but I must say I’m glad she’s okay with this, because I want you quite a bit. Now, how about I take you back to my apartment?” he says.

“Sounds good,” I murmur.

I can’t fucking wait.

character: bonnie, writerverse: table of doom, pairing: bonnie/dylan, character: dylan, pov: dylan, character: xan, pairing: xan/dylan, original fiction, trigger: language, rating: r, writerverse, series: i prefer the mind control

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