[fic] Falling from Heaven (CI prequel): Chapter 2

[kajornwan]

This has been sitting on my hard drive for the past three weeks waiting to be edited one last time and until now I hadn't been able to pull myself away from LOGH which makes everything I ever write seems like a bad joke. And because I'm not entirely out of that universe, I apologize in advance if this turns out to be the biggest crap of the year It's Oberstein, I'm sure =_= .

Title: Falling from Heaven: Chapter 2
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Warning: OC, OC, and OC.
Characters: Mikhail Arbatov, Alejandro Martinez and Alexei Arbatov
Spoiler: None - this is almost AU O_O
Disclaimer: For once *yay* I can say, only Mikhail Arbatov belongs to YA, everyone else belongs to me! :D



Chapter 2

In the estate’s main garage, Alexei stood quietly with hands in his pockets, eyes glimmering over the sleek, black and red Lamborghini. He seemed reluctant to touch it, and Alejandro wouldn’t blame him. Mikhail did look like he was going to knock his brother’s teeth out for even thinking about going near his cars back in that kitchen.

“I so need one of these,” Alexei said, walking slowly around the car, admiring it like a beautiful naked woman - or a naked man in his case. “You’d know how to get one, won’t you?”

Alejandro smiled at the way it was said. Alexei had always had a way of making you do things for him without a grudge, and he had to admit he’d been among those guilty of spoiling the brat for some time. Saying no to Alexei just wasn’t easy when he’d say, “I’m desperate for your amazing coffee,” to get you to make him one, or smile so sweetly as he told you how delicious your food was before compelling you to make dinner. It all came natural to him somehow, and it wouldn’t be a lie to say that Alejandro had developed a soft spot for the way those green eyes looked at him, even though he had known too well how conniving the man could be sometimes.

“I can get you any Lamborghini, just not this one,” Alejandro said as he joined Alexei in admiring the car that looked more like a state-of-the-art spaceship than an automobile. One could feel their pulse accelerated just looking at it without having to know what it was capable of. Only Alejandro did know its capabilities, and that that alone gave him the kind of excitement someone with no real interest in cars like Alexei could ever understand standing next to it.

“It’s not usual to see you give up so soon,” Alexei said, his voice as smooth as the metallic black paint of the Lamborghini. He liked to use that tone when he wanted to challenge you to do something, which made it that much harder to not be pulled into the Spider’s elaborately spun web. Alejandro, however, was used to dodging it by then.

Alejandro smiled and shook his head slightly. “It’s a Sesto Elemento. They make only twenty of these. Right now you’d likely have to kill someone for it,” he said regretfully. In the back of his mind he wondered if anyone had been killed for the one in front of him, which wouldn’t be that much of a surprise given who the Arbatovs were.

“Or beg your brother very nicely,” a voice sounded from the back of the garage. They both turned to see Mikhail standing behind them. He was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a loose, sheer white V-neck t-shirt, and a pair of slim-fit indigo jeans that showed off a little too shamelessly the muscles underneath. If there was something that could raise Alejandro’s pulse faster than the Sesto Elemento, it was undoubtedly Mikhail Arbatov in that get up.

Mikhail tossed something in the air towards his brother. Alexei caught it and looked, raising his brows in surprise when he realized it was the key to the black monster. “Are you serious?”

“You would have snuck out with it anyway, sooner or later,” Mikhail replied with a shrug before his expression turned into a deadly serious one. “Scratch it and I will give you ten stitches for each.”

Alexei rolled his eyes and sighed irritatingly. “Must you take the joy out of everything?”

“Give me a break.” Mikhail snorted. “Like you would know the first joy of driving this car. You just think it’s pretty.”

Dragging his long fingers along the hard, aggressive lines of the door, Alexei smiled one of his signature smile. “Is that not the most pleasurable thing in itself?” he asked. “Being inside something so pretty?”

Alejandro shifted his weight uncomfortably as the pair of green eyes drifted towards him, praying that it had been too subtle for Mikhail to notice. It was like Alexei to flirt with him from time to time regardless of the change in their relationship, and Alejandro had never found enough reasons to discourage him. But now with Mikhail thrown into his life, things were going to have to change.

He gave Alexei a look, and was glad that the hint seemed to be promptly understood. It wasn’t well received though. He could always tell when Alexei was a little agitated.

“That pretty thing,” Mikhail’s eyes focused as he directed his brother’s attention back to the Sesto Elemento, “is a state-of-the-art supercar built with carbon-fiber technology, weighing only 999 kilograms - the lightest car Lamborghini has ever built. It goes 0 to100 in just 2.5 seconds. The most pleasurable thing in the world,” he said, “is being inside something so rare and extraordinary… and pretty, of course.”

Alejandro smiled seeing the pride on Mikhail’s face when he spoke of the Sesto. He would have gloated like that too if he’d been able to get his hands on one. In a way, they had more things in common than he’d originally thought. “Considering that rare and extraordinary does come with a price tag of 2.2 million dollars,” he turned to Alexei who was pretending to be only half-interested, “ten stitches for each scratch is more than fair, I have to say.”

Mikhail turned to him, surprised, and then gave him a nod of approval. “You know your car.”

“I know my Lamborghini,” Alejandro replied, grinning openly over the new window of opportunity that had just presented itself to him in the garage. Mikhail Arbatov did have a weakness, and one that he happened to know quite a lot about. “Although,” he said, drumming his fingers lightly on the hood, “I’m quite sure your name wasn’t on the Sesto’s original owner list. Or am I wrong?”

Blue eyes narrowed as they focused on him. He could just tell it was working. “You were looking for one,” Mikhail said, more as a form of acknowledgement than a question.

“Obsessively,” he replied. “My offer was twice the original price. It was not taken.”

“Naturally.” Mikhail shrugged. “For limited editions you need other means to persuade.”

That, there was an invitation, and Alejandro had been playing the game long enough to never miss it. “I see,” Alejandro said, shifting his gaze back to the car. “Is there any means I could persuade you with then? For this,” he paused for a moment and then added, “among other things?”

As he’d hoped, Mikhail didn’t miss the emphasis on his last words. “Among other things?”

Aware that he was being watched, Alejandro tilted his head to one side to allow more skin on his neck to be seen. He was wearing his most aggressive black shirt with the first few buttons generously undone. One needed to be mindful of little things like that to bait a difficult target. “Like getting you on my bed, for instance?”

Mikhail looked at him quietly for a few seconds, his lips stretched into a playful grin. “Let’s just say, Alejandro,” he said, “that you’re more likely to get me on your bed than getting this car.”

He wants to play this game, Alejandro thought, impressed at his own progress. “That is a poor decision, business-wise, don’t you think?”

“And why would that be?”

Alejandro smiled. “Because I would have paid twice the amount of this car for one night with you on my bed, and I think you know it.”

There was a moment of silence in the garage, and all Alejandro could hear was his own heart beating excessively loud. He didn’t care if anyone could hear it. There was always a certain benefit to allowing your excitement to be known. A little bit of vulnerability goes a long way in getting someone’s attention, and he was getting it, judging from the way things were going.

He watched as Mikhail walked over to him and drew a sharp breath when the man reached for his collar. “I do know it,” he said, rubbing his thumb lightly on the fabric, “I also know,” Mikhail continued, leaning forward as if to sniff something from his shirt, “that as far as spending a night with me, once is never going to be enough, whereas the Sesto is a one-time transaction, isn’t it?”

If there was ever a time when Alejandro felt so completely defeated, it was standing in front of this man with such a proposition. The sudden invasion of butterflies in his stomach was making it difficult for him to hold himself up, which was no help at all given the state of his knees. For the first time he could see himself sinking in a pool of quicksand he knew not how to escape. This attraction that came out of nowhere was proving to be much more than he could handle.

“The art of negotiation, my dear Alejandro,” Mikhail continued, stretching his voice seductively as he spoke, “is something you need to practice for another ten years before thinking you can take an advantage of my weakness to undo me.”

What he wouldn’t give, Alejandro thought to himself as he listened, to undo everything on the guy right there in that 200-car garage.

“Are we going or do you two want to go upstairs and fuck first?” Alexei interrupted irritatingly, rolling his eyes at the two men who seemed to have forgotten he was also standing there listening to the whole conversation.

Burying his face in his palm, Alejandro kneaded his temple as he tried to slow his heart from going 350 kilometers per hour over how much he wanted to do exactly that. “Please, by all means,” he said to Mikhail shamelessly, blinking his puppy eyes, “do take me upstairs.”

Mikhail’s laugh echoed through the garage hearing it, which told Alejandro it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, and consequently he would have to walk around with this painful erection for the entire night until somebody else took care of it. What a prick.

“You two go,” Mikhail said, waving his hand to dismiss both of them. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

***

There must have been at least twenty supercars parked in front of the old factory, and the value of them all combined could probably feed an entire country for a month. It was the usual scene in exclusive clubs anywhere in the world where A-list celebrities and billionaires went to play, which wasn’t exactly new to Alejandro. What was new to him, however, was the number of guards posted around the compound. While it was understandable for this many guards to be posted at the Arbatov estate, for a night club, even for a world famous one such as The Hive, the need was beyond him. Something just wasn’t quite right.

Alexei made a point at finding parking himself instead of using the valet service as he usually did. You don’t let a valet drive a car like that, especially not if it belonged to your big mafia brother who had promised to give you ten stitches for a single scratch. Alejandro noticed the two separated parking spaces that made him a little uncomfortable as they circled the area. The guarded, reserved lot for supercars was understandable, but the space occupied by twice as many black sedans and SUVs on the opposite side made it look like a place where major mafia business was about to go down.

“Bodyguards parking,” Alexei said when he noticed his gaze lingering a little too long on that part of the lot. “That’s unusually packed though. I hope they’re not all in there.” It was, of course, the only thing Alexei had ever worried about - if the place would be too crowded - never the nature of the crowd itself.

“We should wait for Mikhail,” he said. For once he wished that the more competent Arbatov was with them for a completely different reason from in the garage. Mikhail would probably be able to tell if they were entering a club or a field full of land mines. Alexei, on the other hand, would probably just walk in leisurely with his I-can-get-away-with-anything attitude even if he knew what he was walking into. It must have taken the entire family so much effort to keep him alive after all these years given the danger in their lives, and perhaps it was why Alexei had been allowed, or likely encouraged, to spend most of his time living in other parts of the world, away from family business.

“Oh come on,” Alexei threw an arm around his shoulder and urged him forward. “I can protect you just as well.” As always, nothing had ever worried his best friend.

“With what, exactly?” The man didn’t even carry a swiss army knife for all he knew.

He reached for his wallet and pulled out a card, waving it in Alejandro’s face.

“Your driver’s license. How wonderful.” Suddenly he felt like returning to the car.

“It has my face and my name on it, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He did notice and knew what the man was trying to say, but no matter how he looked at it, that was even more of a risk. “You might as well send them an invitation to abduct you.” Given who he was and how defenseless he appeared to be, abducting Alexei Arbatov should be easy while the result could probably shift a lot of things in the mafia world.

There was a strange smile on Alexei’s face then that hadn’t happened a lot. “I doubt anyone would try that again,” he said. “Come. You really need to see this place.”

In that moment, Alejandro understood with a chill running down his spine, that a lesson had been taught brilliantly on the subject a long time ago. Alexei was the family’s most beloved jewel - he’d realized this just by spending time with them one afternoon. Touching him would have been off-limit for anyone in that kitchen, and the consequence, given what he’d heard of their reputation, was something he would rather not know. Looking at Alexei now, smiling merrily and seemingly without a care in the world, Alejandro wondered how much of it was just a facade, and how much was his true nature. It occurred to him then, that perhaps he hadn’t known his best friend as well as he’d always thought, and that made him question himself once more, whether it had really been a good idea to have agreed to stay in Moscow for the entire summer.

***

“What’s the matter? You can’t get in?” Mikhail who caught up with them not long after asked, almost unconvinced of his own guess. It was understandable, considering that Alexei had never had problems getting into a club - any club - ever. That night, however, was an entirely different circumstance. He had a feeling it would be from all those black sedans the moment they’d entered the lot anyway.

“Private party.” Alexei shrugged. He still looked a bit puzzled from being turned down. Together they had been admitted to a lot of private parties before, even without Alexei having to pull out his driver’s license.

“Whose?” Mikhail asked.

“Some guy called Leonov,” Alexei replied with a shrug.

“Viktor Leonov?”

Alexei nodded. “Your friend by any chance?”

Mikhail laughed at the statement, which pretty much answered the question. “We’ll see,” he said with a grin of a little boy about to do something naughty. “Come. this should be interesting.”

It was indeed interesting when they approached the guard again. The man who had seemed so big it made the guest list he was holding looked like a post-it note fifteen minutes ago suddenly seemed smaller than Alejandro remembered with Mikhail Arbatov standing in front of him. “Mr. Arbatov,” he croaked upon recognizing the man. “Sir, I’m afraid this is a private party.” The poor guy looked like he was choking on his own tongue.

Mikhail leaned forward to look at the nameplate on the guard’s jacket. “Ivan,” he read the tag aloud. “Tell Mr. Leonov that I’m here, that he is to let me in, and that I wish to talk,” Mikhail said smilingly. The giant with the list, in contrast, had suddenly gotten three shades paler when he was called by name. It was one thing to piss off a mafia lord, and another to piss him off knowing he might remember your name. Alejandro wondered then as to which man Ivan was more afraid of - the one outside who obviously held power over his boss, or the one inside who might actually shoot him for invading his privacy.

Apparently, Ivan must have decided on the first, since the message was sent soon after, and a few minutes later they were all admitted. Four guards escorted them through the dark corridor, lit only by fiber optic lights designed to mimic star constellations that surrounded them 360 degrees. It was quite a promising entrance, but Alejandro had expected it as much for the club’s reputation. Mikhail halted his steps when they came to a staircase leading up to another level where two more guards stood at the base of the stairs, armed with the kind of guns that really made Alejandro reconsider returning to the car for the second time that night.

“I’ll need your guns, sir,” one of the two armed guards said respectfully.

Alejandro turned to look, wondering if the man was really carrying any, and how many exactly he had hidden inside that leather jacket. “I keep my guns,” Mikhail said unaffectedly, keeping his hands tucked in his pockets without any intention of removing them.

“Sir, it’s protocol.”

Mikhail seemed to be quite amused at the answer. “What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

That was obviously out of the question, even to someone like Alejandro. You don’t shoot an Arbatov knowing who he was. More importantly, you don’t shoot Vladimir’s heir unless you want to start a war. Mikhail was not new to the game, and he knew exactly how to pull his strings.

The two guards swallowed almost simultaneously and made way for him to enter. Mikhail paused at the bottom of the stairs and addressed his brother. “You go ahead. I’ll be with you in a bit,” he said and turned to the four men who had escorted them in. “The four of you. Escort my brother and his friend through the club. Anything happens to them I will blame it on your boss, and he will answer to my father. In any case, you will all die. Am I understood?”

He was, from the look on the four guards’ faces as they nodded.

Alexei sighed and rolled his eyes at that instruction but made no protest. It was surprising considering the spoiled brat that he was to not throw a tantrum over being looked after, but Alexei seemed to know better than to question his big brother’s authority in public. Despite their frequent quarrel, there seemed to be an understanding between them that need not be spoken. Mikhail, especially, was almost overly sensitive to his brother’s reaction.

Alejandro was the only son, and he didn’t know what it felt like to have an older brother, but this, he was certain, would not fall into the same category as the usual overprotective older brother type. For one thing, most older brothers didn’t carry guns and couldn’t make guards twice his size wet their pants, for another Mikhail had been acting more like a guardian than a brother to Alexei and he seemed to have been doing so for a long time. It occurred to him then how much risk he was taking just being around Alexei. He could just see those blue eyes burn a hole in his forehead if Mikhail ever found out he’d on more than one occasion beaten up his little brother quite generously over the past two years. Not to mention the bullet that might or might not follow if he found out Alexei had not given up trying to get back with him entirely. The real problem was that Alexei happened to hold the key to all those secrets, and it was only a matter of time before the Devil realized he was holding that trump card and found some unspeakable ways to make the most of it. Either way, he was screwed.

With that thought, Alejandro sighed heavily for what seemed to be the twentieth time that night, asking himself in his mind for just about as many times, What the fuck are you getting yourself into?

As they entered the main hall, Alejandro realized the trouble might have just been worth it. The Hive was world-famous for a reason. The factory-turned-nightclub was a 6-story building with one large hall in the middle surrounded by private rooms from the second floor to the roof, each lit from the inside with LED lights that switched from red to blue to yellow to go with the ever changing mood of the show down below. The rooms, each equipped with floor to ceiling glass window, overlooked the hall where performances were displayed mid-air, in cages or on platforms suspended by cables above the brightly lit circular swimming pool on the ground floor. The shows had been the major attraction here. Models in bikinis - sometimes topless - offered acrobatic dances in the fiber optics lit pool, angels flew down from the roof wearing nothing but fluffy white wings and a pair of thongs, famous singers, dancers, even ballerinas gave their most unique performances on the suspended platform that moved up and down six levels as they did, and a spectacular show of fireworks after 4 AM could be viewed on weekends from the hall’s gigantic skylight matching in size and shape with the pool on the ground floor. It was said that one could order anything here - Michelin-star meals, rare wines and liqueur, women, men, boys, girls, drugs, and things no one would repeat outside of these rooms. With a push of a button, the liquid crystal glass window turned opaque for immediate privacy. You could do things behind closed doors here without having to leave the scene, which, consequently, drew in the most exclusive crowd including the elites whose sexual preference was considered illegal in Russia. There was no minimum spending here, for the reason that you couldn’t even be here if you didn’t have the right name, unless, of course, you happened to have the right face to decorate the place when it’s not full and you’re wearing the right designer while at it.

They were given a room on the third floor with the best view. It didn’t surprise Alejandro given Mikhail’s instruction at the entrance. After a few drinks they went down to the pool level to join the crowd. He looked around and noticed everyone had their guards near them. This, after all, was a private party hosted by someone he’d guessed to be in the same world as the Arbatov family, which meant that things could go tragically wrong here and care was being taken to the extreme to make sure they didn’t. Alejandro looked over his shoulders to the two guards behind him (the other two were with Alexei who had gone off hunting somewhere), and realized he could do two things to keep himself from throwing up Vladimir’s amazing roast lamb at dinner from all this anxiety - go home or get seriously drunk. Then again, he wouldn’t have lasted so long as Alexei’s best friend if he was someone who had the tendency to pick the first option.

This is going to be an interesting night, Alejandro thought as he headed for the bar and ordered himself another drink.

***

Pussy, Mikhail thought as he left the room, listening to the door being closed behind him. It was the first time he’d met the older son of Valentin Leonov. Young Viktor Leonov, having just returned home with his master’s degree from the abroad to help run his father’s business, had yet to pay his father a visit as he should have done a long time ago as per tradition. The Leonov family had been relatively new to the world of weapon and drug trafficking, and as such Valentin, being impressively wise, had always tried his best to avoid conflicts with his father. There were rules one must heed in their profession to survive and hierarchy was to be strictly observed. Sometimes, though not very often, a new face would appear and test these boundaries. Viktor Leonov had appeared to be one of those. He needed to be addressed, introduced, and sufficiently warned of who he was dealing with and what he was walking into. The timing was rather fortunate. Mikhail had been wanting to run into him for a while to save his father the headache, and the talk had gone as he’d expected. From now on the name Arbatov would probably be on every guest list the Leonov family would ever put together, which should have been done a long time ago had that pathetic boy of Valentin been a little smarter.

It was his job as Vladimir’s heir - getting to know the people of his generation, putting a collar on them early, and earning his own reputation in the world by bringing new business opportunities to his father’s desk. By then he was already running several clubs, underground gambling venues, and things his father had never been interested in. But he was more than ready to play with something on a grander scale, with his top priorities being casinos, hotels, and perhaps finding a new fortune in China. One could consider his plans to be rather ambitious for his age, but ambition had never been a big part of it. He was simply bored to death of Moscow, and he had to experience something new before he was stuck here forever.

Timing was everything. Thanks to Alexei, something new had just found its way into his home just in time before he’d made the first step towards his new goals. The Martinez family was the king of real estate and hotel chains, in other words, legitimate businesses he could dip his hand into. Given an opportunity, he could learn much from Alejandro. There were new doors to be opened and more fun to be had. Fun was the heart of all things to Mikhail, he wouldn’t be able to do anything well if it wasn’t fun or exciting, and he had to admit this Adonis was remarkably promising in that department. He might not have been interested in guys, but if he would ever have a taste of it, Alejandro might be the best candidate he could think of. All reasons aside, it would certainly be new, and all new things were fun, weren’t they?

Only right now his new source of fun was doing something incredibly stupid, Mikhail thought, frowning as he looked down from the glass-walled elevator to the two figures by the bar. Of all the people in the club Alejandro had to pick this man to fuck with. Although given Alejandro’s heart-stopping good looks and the nature of his current company, it was probably unavoidable. The guards were still there, doing their jobs to keep him safe, but they surely weren’t keeping him informed. And where was Alexei who could have done so anyway?

He took a deep breath and sighed as he exited the elevator and headed to the two men who were flirting a little too openly by the bar. Anton Orlovsky, a remarkably handsome entrepreneur in his early thirties had never needed to be discreet about his sexual interest, especially here inside The Hive that was his territory and creation. To Mikhail he was an old acquaintance who could get his hands on anything for a suitable price and an occasional drinking companion. To the mafia world at large he was also this, which was why he had been able to get anything in the first place. One wouldn't exactly call Orlovsky a friend as he would likely sell anyone out to the highest bidder, but friend or foe he was considered by all as a man too useful to be killed or threatened over minor issues. For this reason he had been permitted to get away with almost anything, including his notorious use of drugs to keep his favorite boys and girls in his bed, and discarding them when he was bored - or what was left of them anyway.

From the looks of it, his guess would be that Alejandro had already taken his first few shots of Orlovsky newest invention. It wasn’t serious yet at that point, not until he pumped his victims full of it after they’d passed out. Mikhail had never understood the need for it, considering the man had been handsome and charismatic enough to get most of his candidates on his bed without the use of drugs, but Orlovsky seemed to have preferred absolute submission. Some people were just sick that way.

As thing stood, there was only one thing to do to steer Orlovsky’s interest elsewhere permanently, since threatening him could skyrocket the price of the next information they might need to acquire. Realizing this, Mikhail looked up at their allocated room on the third floor and saw that the window was white, which told him that Alexei was in there, preoccupied. It was entirely Alexei’s responsibility to intervene, and instead his spoiled rotten brother was up there having a great time probably fucking the prettiest guy in the place that was not Alejandro.

And so he walked up to Alejandro from behind, pulled his head back and gave Orlovsky a show that had always worked well for him to get the message across.

Alejandro stiffened at first, then relaxed into his embrace when he realized who was kissing him. Mikhail pulled back a few seconds later just as the kiss was being returned. He threw an arm around the Alejandro’s shoulders, and shifted his attention to the other man. “My dear Orlovsky,” he said smilingly, “you haven’t been hitting on my date, have you?”

It was remarkable how fast the flirtatious smile disappeared from Orlovsky’s face. Being who he was, one could trust him to know precisely where his boundaries lay, and Mikhail had just declared Alejandro off-limits in the most unquestionable way possible.

“Your date, Mikhail?” Asked Orlovsky as he placed down his wineglass. “I didn’t know you were also into guys.” There was suspicion on his face then that didn’t escape Mikhail’s notice, but it was to be expected coming from someone as thorough in his information gathering. One thing anyone knew about Orlovsky, was that his intel had be never been wrong, and that meant he checked his facts much more thoroughly than your average rat.

“Surely you know I change my mind three times a day?” That he did, but this would have been the first time he was seen hanging out with a guy, as opposed to a different girl, which was sure to end up as another information to be sold to his rivals or those seeking favor from him by daybreak.

The thing was that Orlovsky knew this, as evident from the newly acquired smug look on his face. “You should have told me you swing both ways,” he said. The flirtatious smile returned, only now it was directed towards Mikhail. “I would have given you anything for free for just one night with you.”

There it was, the problem he knew would arise from the heroic act he’d just pulled. It wasn’t the first time Orlovsky had expressed this particular interest, after all he was his father’s heir, and Orlovsky had made it his life’s goal to acquire anything difficult to obtain. Mikhail, however, had made it clear from day one that he’d had no interest in men, and the pursuit had since been dropped. Now it was sure to be present in their future dealings, and Orlovsky, armed with this new information, could be counted upon to make his life as difficult as possible the next time they needed to trade. That was the extent of his sacrifice to save his brother’s closest friend, and he decided Alexei would have to pay him back for this in a huge way.

“Take heed, Orlovsky,” Mikhail warned with a smile that was intentionally thin. “It’s considered bad business to overprice your goods.”

“On the contrary,” said Orlovsky, rising from the stool to stand in front of Mikhail. “A merchant always prices his goods with regards to the rules of demand and supply. Nothing is ever overpriced when someone has a need for it. Pray, Mikhail,” he paused and reached over to straighten the crease on Mikhail’s jacket, “that there won’t be the day when you need something from me.” He smiled and tapped Alejandro lightly on the shoulder. “It was nice to meet you. Have fun. After all, the expense is on Viktor Leonov.”

Mikhail sighed heavily as he watched Orlovsky leave the bar. His life, indeed, was about to be more difficult, thanks to Adonis and his brat brother. But there was a more immediate problem he had to deal with that night. “How many drinks did you have with him?”

Alejandro who seemed to have been in some kind of a trance until then blinked at the question. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I can hold my drinks just fine.”

“How many?” Mikhail barked.

Realizing the seriousness of that tone, Alejandro replied, “Two,” and then shook his head with uncertainty. “Maybe three.”

Mikhail swore. With Orlovsky’s drugs, one shot would usually be enough to get the effects he needed. Two would already be a bit much to get yourself home without an incident. Alejandro had had three. “Get up,” he yanked the other man off the stool. “We need to go.”

“Oh come on! It’s only 2AM. I want to see the fireworks!”

Fireworks. Mikhail took a deep breath and began counting to ten. It wasn’t working though. “You’ve been drugged,” he was yelling now to compete with the noise in the club, “if I leave you here you’ll fuck anything on two legs and then you’ll be watching the fireworks very differently, I promise you. Get up Alejandro. I mean it!”

Alejandro looked at him, his eyes intoxicatingly wet and a little red. “I’ll fuck anything on two legs if you take me home like this, most likely you. I mean that too.”

He probably did mean it, Mikhail thought. Orlovsky designed these drugs with the most extreme effects of both sedatives and aphrodisiacs in mind, which wouldn’t be a problem for Mikhail had it been a girl he was trying to help, but Alejandro was a guy, bigger and possibly stronger, who had been predisposed to the idea of pouncing on him even before he had been drugged. In a way, Mikhail could just see himself pinned underneath Alejandro as soon as they got home, and that would be a problem. Shooting Alexei’s best friend wasn’t an option, and muscle to muscle he wasn’t certain he would win. Getting his guards to rescue him from being sexually assaulted inside his home was also not going to happen at any cost, not to mention Alejandro would be killed for that afterwards for the attempt should it become public. In a way, the thought of leaving him here was becoming more tempting by the minute. Only the place was packed full of mafia lords, thanks to Viktor fucking Leonov, and Alejandro would surely be in trouble, serious trouble. Then Alexei would certainly interfere, and that can’t happen at any cost. How wonderful. How absolutely fucking wonderful! Mikhail swore repeatedly in his head.

“I’ll deal with it.” It was the only thing he could think of at the moment to get the man off the damn stool.

Alejandro blinked rapidly, not quite believing his own ears. “You’ll deal with what?”

“Your fucking needs,” Mikhail said, yanking him up by the collar. He only said he would deal with it anyway. He didn't say how. As a matter of fact, he didn’t know how.

Alejandro stared at him, eyes wide opened in complete disbelief, and with the enthusiasm of a six-year old being offered candy asked, “Are you serious? You’ll have sex with me?”

It had to be the first time Mikhail was confronted with such a problem. On one hand, dealing with it would require something along that line, and he had to admit Alejandro’s blatant invitation was becoming increasingly tempting. On the other, he hadn’t been planning on being sexually involved with his brother’s best friend and ex-boyfriend in one on the very same day the man had gotten off the jet. Not that fucking a perfect stranger after five minutes of being introduced had ever been a problem for someone like him, but this was family. Shit happens when you cross the line with family members, and in his world said shit involves guns and grenades. “Get the fuck up,” he barked at the man once more, “before I change my mind and leave your ass here for the next drug lord that comes along.”

As expected, that did get him off the stool, a little too quickly in fact that Alejandro lost balance and fell on him. “Careful,” Mikhail said as he propped Alejandro up on his feet. The effects were probably kicking in. Fucking Orlovsky, he swore viciously in his mind. The next time Alexei brings home a friend he would make damn sure the guy wears a tag with “Arbatov’s Property” written on it in capital letters every time he leaves the house.

“Sorry,” Alejandro mumbled on Mikhail’s shoulder where he rested his forehead. “My head is spinning.”

“No shit,” he said, guiding Alejandro’s arm over his shoulders. “You,” he shouted at the guard who was standing nearby, “Go to my brother. Tell him we’ve gone home and make sure he doesn’t drive home drunk in my Lamborghini. I’ll send a driver.” The last thing he wanted to see on top of all this mess was his Sesto Elemento being driven into a pole.

It was going to be a long night, Mikhail thought as he half dragged half carried Alejandro outside to the parking lot.

***

The door was kicked opened. Alejandro wobbled into the room with his arm draped around Mikhail’s neck, trying his best to maintain balance. His head was really spinning. A part of it was the out-of-this-world strong vodka they were serving at the club, the bigger part of it, however, happened to be the heavy, heavenly scent of that aftershave coming from Mikhail’s collar. It was now infused with the smell of that fine cigarette the man had been smoking and a little trace of alcohol, which, according to the effects that mix was having on him, could qualify it as the most potent aphrodisiac he’d ever tried. And he’d tried a lot. God knows what Alexei keeps in his drawers, and God doesn’t want to know what Alexei keeps in his safe.

Mikhail brought him to the sofa and dropped him like a sack of potatoes on the leather seat. He sank into the soft upholstery that was unmistakably lambskin, bathing himself in the warmth coming from the fireplace that had already been lit when they entered. The guards must have informed the butler of their arrival when they had reached the gate. On the small table next to him a crystal bottle of cognac had been laid out for them, together with a small box of Knipschildt truffles, and a wooden box encasing a single Stradivarius Churchill cigar. By his feet, an extra large rug of fine, white wool sprawled across the floor from the couch to the fireplace with oversized pillows piled neatly within reach.

Up until then Alejandro thought he had been living quite well, but seeing all this gave a new meaning to living extravagantly as he knew it. Here in Vladimir’s home, everything was extremely well thought of, from the books provided in the room to the strategically positioned furniture around the fireplace to create the best living experience life had to offer. Vladimir Arbatov did know how to live, and the more Alejandro looked at it, the more he realized what a perfect setting this was for what he was waiting to do - for what he had left the club early to do, to be more precise.

Which explained the agitation he was feeling when Mikhail abandoned him on the couch and walked over to the intercom, barking orders for water, coffee, and heaven knew what that took him excessively and unnecessarily long. The man had intended for him to wait until those orders had been served, which meant that he would have to sit there biting his nails at the awareness of them being alone in this perfect setting of a bedroom doing nothing, instead of engaging in what could turn out to be his fuck of the decade with the man who might very well be the biggest crush of his life. Unless, of course, if he wanted to be interrupted in the middle of it by an entourage of serving girls carrying cookies and espresso. He was beginning to wonder if Mikhail thought he could get away with it had he stalled long enough, and if the man truly didn’t get it that leaving this room without fulfilling that promise would involve him grabbing that revolver inside his jacket and shoot Alejandro between the legs.

“How are you feeling?” Asked Mikhail who had returned from the desk and was now standing over him, both hands tucked neatly in his jacket when they should have been doing something else much more useful in Alejandro’s point of view.

“Horny.” The answer was precise, sharp as a needle. Subtlety had never been one of his virtues, especially under influence, and the ache between his legs wasn’t really helping.

Mikhail gave him a sidelong glance before shifting his gaze to the cognac. “Be glad you’re not in Orlovsky’s bed right now,” he said, filling the crystal glass on the table unaffectedly.

In Alejandro’s book, that could mean two things. Either Mikhail was initiating a verbal foreplay or he was looking for an opportunity to dodge the invitation. Keeping his gaze on Mikhail, he picked up a red and gold truffle and held it a few seconds too long before putting it in his mouth. It was working, judging from the way those blue eyes lingered on his lips as he licked clean the melted chocolate on his fingers one by one. “Why?” he asked, “Would that make you jealous?”

Mikhail smiled at him as if to a child. "Why? Because by now you would have been pumped full of the latest drug in the market. You'd wake up his sex slave in any case, whether or not it makes me jealous."

It was all Alejandro needed to hear to feel a cold running down his spine. He suddenly understood why Mikhail had insisted on taking him home at any cost. That was close, too close for him to even imagine without feeling nauseas over what would have happened had the man not interfered. “I didn’t know.” He should have. He wasn’t that new to the game. There were signs he should have seen, things he should have noticed.

“You couldn’t have,” Mikhail said, removing his leather jacket and tossed it on the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch next to him. “From now you ask me or Alexei before hooking up with someone,” he said. “It’s not safe for you out there.”

Those words should have sounded ridiculous coming from someone he barely knew, but the gentleness in Mikhail’s voice had given his heart a sudden, forceful tug that was difficult for him to suppress on top of everything else he was feeling. “I wish I could say that you sound like my father," Alejandro said tartly. "Only he'd never cared enough to say such things." It was true, but at the time he had said it simply for the sake of conversation. Given the circumstances, silence would have made it more difficult for him to keep himself in check considering how his entire body overreacted to everything about this man like instinct - from the timbre of his voice, his scent, his smiles, down to the shuffling sound of his clothes when he moved. It was madness, in every sense of the word, how strong his newly formed attraction to Mikhail was.

Mikhail threw his long leg over the other, leaning back on the cushion as he twirled the glass in his hand. The sound of his rings knocking against the crystal chimed like a lure from heaven that continued to drain Alejandro’s patience. “Don’t forget, that you are what you are partly because of the way you were raised,” Mikhail said with an expression that took his breath away momentarily.

“And what am I?” He asked, fully aware of that the pounding of his heart might have been heard by the man sitting next to him. He wondered if Mikhail was aware of his eyes on him, that he had been tracing the shape underneath the sheer white T-shirt that could barely keep anything hidden. It was a mistake to remove that jacket, to take the seat so close to him, to mercilessly taunt him with such possibility, to offer him a kiss earlier that night that had consequently sealed the one-sided bond Alejandro was feeling and made it something impossible to break.

“Rare and extraordinary,” Mikhail replied, smiling at him the kind of smile that suddenly stripped Alejandro of whatever control he thought he’d possessed. It was now or never. Life was too short for second thoughts, too short for regrets.

“Have sex with me,” Alejandro said, staring straight into Mikhail’s blue eyes to back up the conviction in his words.

There was weight in the room then, upon them, and in the air they breathed. Mikhail looked at him without a word spoken, his expression hard and unreadable. He knew his proposal was being considered. He could tell Mikhail wasn’t someone who needed the courage or an excuse to say no.

In the silence that hung heavily in the room, they looked to each other for what seemed to Alejandro the longest minute of his life. He held his breath as Mikhail’s lips parted, and in the second that should have delivered his answer, came a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Mikhail said lazily, breaking the eye contact when the two serving girls entered, rolling in a table with their master’s orders. One of them began removing the cling wrap from the assortment of cookies and warmed scones, the other setting the small plates and the cutlery neatly on one side. A bottle of Voss was opened and poured into the two glasses they brought for them. It was all professionally done, and this was coming from Alejandro who owned and managed several top luxury hotels and resorts which was a big compliment in itself. Only then he wished said service didn’t exist, and would have been infinitely more content if they had been in a yurt somewhere in Mongolia with absolutely no one to serve them within a ten-kilometer radius.

To make the matters worse, Mikhail whose attention was supposed to be on him was instead watching the table being laid, giving them instructions while twirling the glass of cognac leisurely as if nothing important had been said, and no decision was needed to be made. Prick, was the word that came to Alejandro’s mind several times that night, but it was this prick he wanted, and wanted more than anything he’d ever craved in his life.

After an agonizing eight minutes of fidgeting in his seat, the two girls finally left. Mikhail rose from his seat to fill a cup of coffee and offered it to him, obviously ignoring the conversation they were having a few minutes ago. “This will help,” he said.

It was intentional, Alejandro was certain, but if Mikhail thought he was someone who would let an opportunity slip past him that easily, he would be gravely mistaken. “Have sex with me,” he said. Mikhail should know he had no problem whatsoever repeating the offer until he got what he wanted. “And I will make this a night you’ll never forget,” he promised, ignoring the coffee that was being offered.

Mikhail smiled and placed the cup back down on the table. “A night I won’t forget?” he asked. “You’re not even sober.”

Alejandro rose from the couch and stood in front of him, noticing the way Mikhail remained completely still as he drew himself intimately close. He had a shot at this, he was sure. “Are you worried that I won’t meet your expectation,” he asked, “or that I might?”

Mikhail looked at him then, with an expression that suggested he was being careful more than anything else. “I’m worried,” he said, “that you are not fully aware of the game you want to play.”

That he may not have been, but the need to play had by far exceeded his sense of self-preservation a long time ago that night. “I was under the impression that you like taking risks, or am I wrong?” He reached for Mikhail’s collar and traced his finger along the hem, dragging it slowly down the middle of his torso. The muscles underneath strained at his touch and through his fingertips he felt a breath being withheld as he paused just over the belt. It was definitely being considered, and the answer, he was quite certain, would be favorable. “It’s just one night. No strings attached. I promise you.” Once was all he’d ever needed to wind someone around his fingers, and he would have Mikhail, even if it would take intoxicating him with the skills he knew he possessed and nothing else.

He leaned in for a kiss, and Mikhail made no sign to back away. It always started with a kiss like this. Once granted, the rest would be history. He could smell the cognac on those lips, could almost taste it on his tongue now that they were just a hairbreadth away.

“You don’t actually believe a word he’s saying, do you?”

Hearing that voice, Alejandro stiffened from head to toe. He didn’t have to turn around to see who was at the door, interrupting them. But because of this, he also knew that the interruption would be effective and final.

Mikhail drew a step back - a step that marked the end of the evening and everything Alejandro had hoped to accomplish that day. “Impeccable timing,” Mikhail said casually, picking up the cup of water and drained it in one go. It was difficult to tell if he’d considered such timing to be favorable or otherwise.

“What happened?” Alexei walked over to them and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Orlovsky,” Mikhail replied.

Alexei swore. “How many?”

“Three,” Mikhail said as he took another glance at Alejandro and gave him a knowing smile. “Although it’s not as bad as I thought. In any case, I believe my job is over. Alexei will know what to do. Good night Alejandro.” With that, Mikhail gave him a quick pat on the shoulder and left the room without another word.

***

The door closed with a bang that ignited the rage in Alejandro’s chest. It was taking him an enormous amount of control to keep his feet nailed to the ground as opposed to throwing himself at Alexei and beating the crap out of him for what had just happened. That, and imagining the bullet that might end up in his head before he could walk out the door if he did. Alexei, however, was moving fluidly around the table before taking a seat on the arm of the couch, swinging his leg slowly back and forth as if nothing had happened in the past five minutes. His green eyes showed the usual display of amusement as they looked at Alejandro, watching, waiting for him to explode. The brat definitely knew what was coming and was expecting it. In fact, Alejandro was certain he had wanted this to happen, and before the night was over some things were going to have to change.

“This had better not be one of your pathetic attempts to keep me to yourself, Alexei,” he said, shaking from the anger that had already surpassed whatever intoxication he had been under earlier. It wasn’t the first time Alexei had tried to do exactly that, and he had been stupid enough to allow it to continue. He should have seen it coming and put an end to it a long time ago, then he wouldn’t have to watch Mikhail walk out of that door and be left with nothing but a handful of fucking cookies and chocolate.

“Oh please,” Alexei rolled his eyes and tilted his head back a little - a gesture he used when something sounded truly ridiculous to him. “You didn’t think he was really going to sleep with you tonight, did you?”

As a matter of fact, he did. “I had him.” He was sure he had, and they would have been on that fucking couch by now if Alexei hadn’t walked in on them.

“Oh but you never had,” Alexei said, running his fingers over the assortment of chocolate on the side table leisurely. “You will never get Mikhail on your bed.” He picked up a truffle and popped it in his mouth before proceeding to lick his fingers clean. It was Alexei who had taught him that trick, among other things he should have been grateful about. At that moment, however, Alejandro could think of nothing he wanted to do more than to rearrange that pretty face into something less perfect with his fist. “And as to why that is,” he added, “I think I’ll tell you some other time.”

It was like Alexei to be so unaffected during an argument like this, and his affection for the brat had allowed him to get away with it most of the time. That night, however, every little thing from the lazy smile to the fluidity of his voice got on Alejandro’s nerve like never before. With one forceful tug, he yanked the man up by the collar to face him. “I’m not in the mood for one of your games. Tell me now or I will make sure you regret it.”

“I don’t think so,” Alexei said unaffectedly. If anything, the grin on that face might have grown even wider. “Perhaps when you’ve calmed down and decided to be nicer to me,” he said, reaching over to caress the side of Alejandro’s face as if to sooth a child in the middle of his tantrum.

It was the first time Alejandro had slapped that hand away so viciously, and for the first time that night, judging from the slight change in his expression, Alexei began to realize the seriousness of the situation. “I will be nicer to you when you stop interfering with my personal life,” he said, grinding his teeth in an attempt to keep the rage under control. “You are my best friend, and I love you. But understand that I will never forgive you if you come between him and me again.” He tugged once more on Alexei’s collar to make sure the statement would sink in. “I do mean it, Alexei.” Whatever they had been doing that was beyond friendship since they’d broken up had to end that night, despite Alexei’s desire to regain what he himself had so elaborately fucked up. It had to stop. He was moving on whether or not Mikhail was a part of it.

Alexei stared at him for a moment with an expression that told Alejandro he was working things out in his mind. It was never a good sign. Whenever he had that look on his face, the outcome of such calculation usually turned out to be something unthinkable if not downright despicable. He could just see a plan being put together behind those malicious green eyes like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and suddenly realized the need to brace himself for what was about to come. “My dear Andy," a smile he had come to know so well appeared on Alexei’s face, and Alejandro could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand before the words had even been spoken. “You are obviously forgetting something." He closed his eyes as Alexei drew near, and winced at the way their clothes rustled against one another. "That in order to get him it requires you to be here,” he said, reaching up once more to wind is fingers around Alejandro’s curls, “and whether or not you remain a guest here is entirely, utterly, and absolutely up to me. Surely you can see that.”

There it was, the Spider's strategically spun web to bind him hands and feet before slowly sucking his blood dry. Leave it to Alexei, to always find a way to take an advantage of any situation, and never fail to realize the power of the cards he was holding or miss a single opportunity to use them. But Alejandro, too, had been with him for too long and survived these games too many times in the past to know he was still holding the one trump card that could turn the table. “You do realize, of course, that I am at liberty to remove myself from your life if you remove me from your home against my will.”

Alexei’s green eyes focused sharply at those words as he stood breathing in the silence that followed. It was the card Alejandro had always been reluctant to deal. Despite everything the man had done that may have suggested otherwise, as friend or lover, Alexei did love him. It must have hurt, but eventually a line had to be drawn if they were to continue having some kind of relationship at all.

After a few minutes of silence, another kind of smile appeared on Alexei’s lips, which told Alejandro that winning this game was about to be more complicated than he’d originally thought. “You do realize,” he said, in almost a whisper, “that I am also at liberty to tell him how you would never accept a drink from total strangers, and therefore Orlovsky couldn’t have had a chance to slip anything into your vodka, which means that you’re not drugged to begin with, and that all this,” he picked up a teaspoon, waved it briefly in the air and dropped it intentionally on the saucer, “is simply a product of your manipulation to get him on your bed. What,” he leaned over and brushed his lips on Alejandro’s earlobe, “do you think your chance with my brother would be then, my love, my darling, my very innocent Andy?”

It was out of his hands, Alejandro thought, grinding his teeth as he realized his defeat. Even if Mikhail could already guess all this judging from that last smile alone, it didn’t take away the power Alexei was holding in his hands. The undeniable truth was, that it would take Alexei one sentence to make sure his overprotective brother removed himself entirely from the possibility of being on Alejandro’s bed, or to even glance at him that way ever again. Not to mention what would happen if Mikhail ever found out his little brother was still in love with him, and that he had been withholding that information for his own sake. No matter how he looked at it, unless he was willing to give up his chance with Mikhail, Alexei did possess a better hand. And the worst thing about it was, that Alexei knew this at heart. He had to. He was always acutely aware of his influence on people and he had never been wrong.

“Alyosha,” he pleaded, “don’t do this to me.” It was all could do in hope that Alexei would somehow retreat from whatever he’d been intending to achieve.

“Oh come now,” Alexei smiled as if to a child. “You make me sound so cruel. What I’m doing,” he brought his hands up to Alejandro’s collar and began undoing the buttons, “is saving you a heartache and helping you with that glorious erection. Now,” he proceeded to the belt when the shirt came free, tugging at it as he delivered the next set of words that would destroy whatever distance Alejandro had hoped to place between them, “let’s see how well you understand the concept of being nice to me, shall we?”

***

A/N: I just have to say, man, nothing beats another chance to write Alexei Arbatov. Welcome back darling *squeezes him to death.* As always, let me know if you want more. ^_^

Also, my car fetish is incurable. Here it is, the Sesto Elemento:



Sorry, wrong image. That was His Majesty's Lamborghini, not Mikhail's. I swear that wasn't an attempt to put the Brunhild EVERYWHERE.*whistles innocently*. The real thing: