Eye of the Beholder (NC-17) Aaron, Veronica/Logan
Title: Eye of the Beholder
Author: ladydisdain225
Character/Pairing: Aaron, L/V
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1477
Spoilers/Warnings: Through all of season one. Dark themes, general creepiness
Summary: AU - Veronica and Logan slept with eachother the night of the surprise party and the events of Leave It to Beaver haven't happened.
Author's note: This is the all the fault of the AIM girls, who are far too eager to encourage me in my folly. Inspired by an idea of truemyth's. Major thanks to mutinousmuse and lex_83 for being excellent speed betas. x-posted to loveathons
He always felt a glow of satisfaction when he looked at the collection. It wasn’t much visually speaking - a small cabinet, stacks of hand-labeled tapes carefully arranged in a system that made sense only to him. But the names - when he bothered to get a name - the sheer number of them was enough to make him stop and grin every time. It was a cliché, but he was fucking good and he knew it.
He ran a practiced eye over the shelves. There was little to discern one tape from another - a name and date, casually penned on the side of the case. Two things would stand out to the casual observer, though.
One was the space that stood empty despite the crowding on other shelves, a space large enough for several tapes. It never failed to irritate him, but he obstinately kept it there. Even though he knew he’d never be retrieving the tapes. Even though he knew he’d have to destroy them even if he did recover them. He kept it anyway.
The other was the simple ‘L’ added to the labels on the bottom shelf.
It was this latter shelf he’d been gravitating towards more and more frequently. There was something so damn satisfying about them. He’d never thought of himself as a fucking voyeur, but he wasn’t going to deny the thrill he got from watching them. After all, his son had excellent taste.
Not that he needed the tapes. He’d had more fucking offers since Lynn’s death than he’d known what to do with. Apparently being a grieving widower was sexy. He hadn’t gotten so much ass since he’d adopted Trina and played the hapless new father shtick. And this time he wasn’t stuck with a damn kid.
No, he could get laid whenever he fucking wanted.
He’d actually thought about bringing that chick from Makeup home, but the stupid bitch was getting too clingy. She was trying to work him with a transparency that showed all too well why she had yet to land a role with more than two lines even while blowing half the big names in the business. Fucking tart thought she could use him to get ahead, thought she was anything more than a halfway decent rack and a way of passing the time during those damn location shoots. He’d sleep alone any day rather than put up with that.
He felt a vague pain in his hand and he looked down in surprise only to realize that he was gripping the cabinet handle with a bruising force. It had been a long fucking day.
Returning to his perusal of the cabinet he found himself once again examining that bottom shelf. There weren’t as many names to choose from but that was hardly the draw of these particular tapes. His hand hesitated over a couple of the older ones, but finally settled, as he knew it would, on the most recent.
Sliding the tape into the VCR, he settled back onto his opulent bedspread, his head fogged with lazy anticipation. After a brief moment of static the image resolved itself, two figures entwined on a bed, so obviously intent on only each other. So blissfully unaware of the show they were putting on.
He watched, heavy lidded, as the blonde straddled Logan, her demeanor amusingly innocent despite her position. She leaned down, leaving a series of teasing kisses that would have driven him mad, had him flipping her over and driving into her right then, but his kid just smiled, apparently eager to let her set the pace, the fucking pussy.
He allowed himself a leisurely examination of the girl, knowing it would be a little while before they got to the good stuff. With her petite figure and her hair in pigtails she was a fucking dream, perfect casting for any schoolgirl fantasy you might want, her hesitancy giving that added touch of innocence to complete the picture.
Of course his kid was too much of a sap to embrace the potential there, to relish the thought of her shivering under him as he taught her exactly what her position was. He was eager - embarrassingly so, really - but so hesitant to do anything about it you’d think he was the fucking virgin.
His eyes fixed on the screen, he fisted himself lightly as she sat up, tugging her shirt off in a fluid motion, her wide eyes dark with lust. She was so fucking ready for it. Logan’s hands came up to massage her breasts, slipping the bra off neatly, with barely a pause in their ministrations. Her responding moan made his cock throb.
Leaning back down over him she moved over his body, leaving a trail of wet kisses down his torso - slowly moving towards his waistband. He closed his eyes momentarily, imagining the seventeen-year-old’s pretty mouth closing over him, her eyes fixed on his, desperate for his approval as she sucked him off.
A low groan from the screen brought him back to himself and he watched disgustedly as his son pulled her back up to him before she’d even gotten his zipper down.
They were teasing each other now, her voice light and mocking in a way that never failed to make him think of the other one.
Lilly Kane had been an idiot and a slut and she’d seen the whole world as little more than a playground. Everything was a game to her and she wouldn’t speak unless she could mock; wouldn’t mock unless she could wound. That big mouth had gotten her into trouble even before she’d pushed him too far.
They were still talking and he had to resist the urge to fast forward - this was worth the slow build even if it was frustrating as all hell. She was so wrapped up in the boy that he almost felt like congratulating his son, but he knew Logan was even more gone than she was. The kid was a serial monogamist, although his girlfriends rarely returned the favor.
He wondered idly how long it would take to break Veronica. She had less of the customary awe of him than the rest did, which would work against him. She was also possibly the first girl his son had dated who was less experienced than he was - until Logan screwed up, it might be hard to convince her.
He loved the dance. Too fast and he’d spook her, too slow and he couldn’t be sure of keeping her interest fixed. This girl was going to be fun; the last few had been too easy to really be worth the effort, and not amusing enough in bed to make their eagerness anything but pathetic. His son did have a talent for picking sluts.
His hand had sped up during his musings as the couple on the screen had finally ceased their adolescent make out. Logan settled over her and he heard the boy’s voice hesitantly asking whether she was sure like the child he was. Then he was pressing into her, and his hand jerked at the sharp gasp she’d made, her eyes squeezed shut, the tension clearly evident on her face.
And then the kid fucking stilled - offering murmured reassurances, kissing her deeply in an attempt to soothe. Like she hadn’t wanted it, like she wasn’t eager, like her tight little pussy wasn’t begging him to pound into her hard. Such a fucking waste.
Finally the kid started moving, his movements too slow and measured but at least he was moving. He kept his eyes on her face as she moaned throatily, her eyes wide and shining with adoration as the boy thrust into her.
He knew that was why he preferred this tape. Unlike the others, this one saw Logan - probably loved Logan - and it would make it that much sweeter when he got her. As always, he imagined the look on Logan’s face as the boy walked in on the two of them, her legs wrapped round his waist as he pounded into her. The boy’s shock, hurt, horror when he found him fucking his latest girlfriend. When he revealed that he’d fucked the others. When he finally proved to that smart-assed brat of his that he was always going to be better than him, that there was nothing he had that couldn’t be taken away.
He was close now, his hand pumping faster as he watched the couple on the screen, as he pictured the little slut in his bed as he thrust into her.
He didn’t hear the knock on his door. Didn’t notice the nervous voice calling him. Didn’t see the door swing open.
But he heard the cry his son made when he saw the tape. He saw the look on his face as realization struck.
And he came harder than he’d ever come before.