Fic: A Gentleman's Dossier
Title: A Gentleman's Dossier
Author: lilac28
Pairing: Solo Adrian Veidt
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I wish I could write something as amazing as Watchmen. Sadly I did not.
Summary: Written for this prompt on the Watchmen Kink Meme: Veidt, in his office, fappin' to the contents of the BOYS folder. You know the one. Now that's just askin' for it!
Adrian Veidt sat hunched over the computer in his office, contemplating which files on his machine were too incriminating. Tax files, purchase orders, and fan letters to Max Shea from his fake movie company were all promptly deleted. The folder containing information on Pyramid Transnational might as well stay. No one would ever figure out that connection.
A glance at the clock revealed that he had about an hour until his private jet would come to ferry him away from the doomed city. He had covered his tracks with plenty of time. There was nothing left to do but wait.
He looked back at the computer and noted the folder simply labeled "Boys". Well, perhaps there was one thing left to do.
Despite his vast influence and endless wealth, the Boys Folder was one of the most prized possessions in Adrian Veidt's collection. In it contained images of hundreds of attractive men he had met over the years, most in various stages of undress. Some had been lovers, dressed up and posed willingly for him. Others were just pictures of friends, men he had never gotten around to seducing. Of course there was also the odd photo he had copied from various magazines.
Over the years the Boys Folder had morphed into a compendium of flexed biceps and rippling chests, a sea of photographic male perfection. He kept a locked copy of it on all his personal computers, although the original was housed on the Boys Server back in Karnak. It was one of his most delicious indulgences. One he rarely resisted.
A satisfied smirk found its way to his elegant lips as he opened the folder and loaded a series of random pictures. This was going to be greatly enjoyable, bliss rocket propelled with the knowledge that soon he would unite the world in a way that even the greatest pharaoh had failed to achieve. Half hard just thinking about it, one finger released the belt on his costume while another clicked on the first picture. He sighed while preparing to take himself in hand. Eager to experience the perfect imaginary male lover pieced together from strapping hard bodies and chiseled faces.
He was thoroughly disappointed. A shudder ran through his body as the first picture appeared on the screen. Rorschach! How did that get in there? The masked sociopath was about as sexually appealing as a cancer ridden Moloch. Plus Adrian was fairly certain that Rorschach was a repressed closet case. Not sexy and hypocritical.
He quickly moved on to the next picture, desperate to rid his mind of the image of Rorschach. The vigilante's black and white face was replaced with the sleek lines of Nite Owl's costumed visage. He'd always admired the exposed portion of Daniel's face, the masculine jaw made such an engaging contrast with his lush, full lips. Daniel had gained quite a bit of weight over the years but he was still an attractive man. Pity he was such a terrible dresser, something Adrian always found an unforgivable turn off.
Another hasty depression on the keyboard brought a brilliant blue image to his eyes. He hummed in approval and curled long fingers around his stiff length. Doctor Manhattan was a gay superhero's dream. He was calm, heavily muscled, graceful, and colorful in body if not in personality. He was also in a near constant state of nudity, a fact that shocked and unsettled most people so thoroughly that gay and straight alike had to fight not to surreptitiously stare at his naked genitals. Thus no one ever really noticed when Adrian's gaze lingered far too long between those firm blue legs.
His lips parted on a fraction to mutter at the screen as his right hand began to work himself. "Well...after we're done saving the world maybe I can solve your energy crisis, Jon." God knows Laurie wasn't doing it for him.
The mood set, Adrian began to peruse deeper into the contents of the Boys Folder. He drank in the sight of ripe young men straining to break free of their spandex. Boys in dresses and makeup would grace the screen one moment, only to be replaced in the next by sweaty, muscled lumberjacks. The full spectrum of masculinity, with a few special photos of boys dressed in pharaoh garb. He lingered for a long moment on an old image of Yul Brynner. The day that stopped turning him on was the day someone dropped a squid right on his head.
Adrian Veidt was never one to masturbate furiously. Tonight was no exception as he treated himself to deliberate manipulation and teasing, feather-light. Each maneuver performed with the same languid certitude with which he conducted his business dealings. His agile mind breathed life into the men on the screen. They became sharp and beautiful, kneeling before him. Eager to please. He could hear their voices telling him that he did the right thing, that a peaceful world justified the means. Thanking him.
His head lolled back as he leaned in his expensive executive chair, cheeks at last deigning to slightly flush. Posture opened and body exposed, he was spread unashamed in front of the huge office window for the world to view. Shallow breath caught in his throat when an image appeared of an old favorite from his Studio 54 days. Adrian remembered.....
Soft yet leonine, the man was a walking contradiction. The growling, hungry voice seemed dichotomous when paired with his agile, willowy body. At times he seemed more interested in playing the woman, bringing his famous lips to any part of Adrian's exposed skin and begging to be fucked. A week later he'd be all man, strutting around the clubs in a pinstriped suit and barking out orders like a drill sergeant, happy only when he was on top. And just when Adrian suspected he was too bubble headed to suffer much longer, he would drop a few lines from a favorite Dylan Thomas poem. Or make a frighteningly astute observation on the current state of world financial affairs.
He was still no match for the world's smartest man, but he was interesting. And holding the interest of Ozymandias for more than an evening at a time was a feat unto itself.
"Another round then, Ozy?"
Adrian padded into the bedroom, pleased to be greeted by the sight of his lover, the decadent aesthete, waiting for him on the bed in a purple silk robe.
"I don't think that's your color."
He slid out of the robe and wound the delicate fabric around Adrian's waist, using it to draw him closer.
"No? Maybe you're right. I think it's more your color, anyway."
"That's quite a bit of purple, Mick. People might think I'm gay." He flashed a predatory grin, the one that almost never failed to get his lover under his thumb.
"They'll figure that out from the nipples on your costume, love." His voice changed from sexy to more thoughtful. "This color really does suit you. It....captures your power. I'll show you. Have you ever tripped?"
Adrian wasn't surprised by the question. Very little ever shocked him. "Once. Years ago in Egypt I ate a hash ball and--"
"A what? A hash ball? Really, Ozy, I didn't mean hash. I'm talking about acid."
Adrian almost rolled his eyes. Of course he was.
Mick produced an ornate box from the nightstand and from it removed a small piece of paper with the utmost care. "Now open wide like a good boy...."
His fingers wound tighter at the memory. He tipped back further in the chair and placed one long leg on his desk, scattering copies of Under the Hood and Ramses II. Although the office was many stories up he reveled in the knowledge that it was only a pane of glass that separated any prying eyes from his performance of extravagant self-gratification. If revealing his true identity had shown anything, it was that Adrian was not a man who was afraid to be caught in the act.
Awareness of the outside world slipped away as his grip became more pleasurable. He skipped through more images with his free hand, searching for the most sexually charged ones. It was not long before the Boys Folder gifted him with one of his fondest recollections....
David.
David an ephemeral, androgynous dream bent over before him. Sweat running down his thighs. Hands cuffed behind his back. Shoulders shaking.
They shifted, and Ozymandias noticed blood on the sheets. Not enough to put him into a state of any concern. Not if he was to judge by the masculine groans and incitements spilling from his partner's feminine mouth.
David turned his head. He had started the evening with makeup so perfect it would have made Cleopatra jealous. Now it was smeared across the upper half of his face like a sinful mask. He was so thin, the lines of his body so rigid. He could be a breaking butterfly, or a brittle China doll ready to snap.
Then he spoke, and his voice was more that of a poisonous spider. Calm and carnivorous, even in submission. Appealing to Ozymandias to perform an especially filthy act.
"Not a mad request, is it, Adrian?" David knew Ozymandias' real name before the rest of the world did.
He trailed his fingers down his lover's perspiring back with something resembling true affection. David was pure sex and synesthesia. It was hard to deny him anything.
"No. Not mad at all." Adrian moved to comply.....
A few strands of damp blond hair fell into his eyes. He was now fully sprawled at his desk, private moment on display. A delicious, low pinch heralded the first shivers of completion. That initial state where orgasm was imminent, and would be so much better if one just let it happen without chasing. Adrian employed all his famed control to keep himself at the torturously slow pace. He just needed a little something extra to carry him along.
He clicked towards the last file in the Boys Folder and found what he was looking for. The perfect picture. With a small cry he surrendered to ecstatic convulsions, body seizing as he burst all over the expensive purple jacket.
And draped over his chair half naked in front of the office window, sticky and dazed, Adrian Veidt rode out the last euphoric tremors as he stared at a high-quality photo of himself.
100 yards away, in the Owlship
"Ha! I knew it!" Laurie crowed, with no small amount of triumph, as she peered through the Owlscope.
"What? What's he doing now? Is he still looking at those pictures?" Dan was curious in spite of himself.
Laurie giggled. "I...think he's finished with that."
"Then can we stop invading his privacy?" Dan gingerly took the Owlscope from her, feeling a pang of guilt over the enjoyment of spying on an old friend.
"Oh, you're shy and reserved now?" She gestured towards his still nude body. It had been over an hour since they'd had some of most passionate sex she'd experienced in years and they were both still naked. A good sign that they'd probably be doing it again before the night was out.
"It just doesn't feel right. C'mere..." He pulled her close.
"You know," Laurie purred into his ear. "I think I saw a picture of you in there."
"Wait? What? Really?" Dan couldn't help but feel flattered.
"Yeah," she straddled his legs, "maybe we should go ask him if he wants to join us."
"Oh...um...you're into that, are you? Being with two guys?"
"Maybe." If they're both actually separate people.
Dan didn't notice her slight cringing. "That kind of goes along with an idea I've been having."
Laurie raised her eyebrows, urging him to continue. "An idea? Well, I'm open to suggestions. What shall we do next?"
"I've been thinking about that, and I feel we have certain obligations to our fraternity...."
The End.
Author: lilac28
Pairing: Solo Adrian Veidt
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I wish I could write something as amazing as Watchmen. Sadly I did not.
Summary: Written for this prompt on the Watchmen Kink Meme: Veidt, in his office, fappin' to the contents of the BOYS folder. You know the one. Now that's just askin' for it!
Adrian Veidt sat hunched over the computer in his office, contemplating which files on his machine were too incriminating. Tax files, purchase orders, and fan letters to Max Shea from his fake movie company were all promptly deleted. The folder containing information on Pyramid Transnational might as well stay. No one would ever figure out that connection.
A glance at the clock revealed that he had about an hour until his private jet would come to ferry him away from the doomed city. He had covered his tracks with plenty of time. There was nothing left to do but wait.
He looked back at the computer and noted the folder simply labeled "Boys". Well, perhaps there was one thing left to do.
Despite his vast influence and endless wealth, the Boys Folder was one of the most prized possessions in Adrian Veidt's collection. In it contained images of hundreds of attractive men he had met over the years, most in various stages of undress. Some had been lovers, dressed up and posed willingly for him. Others were just pictures of friends, men he had never gotten around to seducing. Of course there was also the odd photo he had copied from various magazines.
Over the years the Boys Folder had morphed into a compendium of flexed biceps and rippling chests, a sea of photographic male perfection. He kept a locked copy of it on all his personal computers, although the original was housed on the Boys Server back in Karnak. It was one of his most delicious indulgences. One he rarely resisted.
A satisfied smirk found its way to his elegant lips as he opened the folder and loaded a series of random pictures. This was going to be greatly enjoyable, bliss rocket propelled with the knowledge that soon he would unite the world in a way that even the greatest pharaoh had failed to achieve. Half hard just thinking about it, one finger released the belt on his costume while another clicked on the first picture. He sighed while preparing to take himself in hand. Eager to experience the perfect imaginary male lover pieced together from strapping hard bodies and chiseled faces.
He was thoroughly disappointed. A shudder ran through his body as the first picture appeared on the screen. Rorschach! How did that get in there? The masked sociopath was about as sexually appealing as a cancer ridden Moloch. Plus Adrian was fairly certain that Rorschach was a repressed closet case. Not sexy and hypocritical.
He quickly moved on to the next picture, desperate to rid his mind of the image of Rorschach. The vigilante's black and white face was replaced with the sleek lines of Nite Owl's costumed visage. He'd always admired the exposed portion of Daniel's face, the masculine jaw made such an engaging contrast with his lush, full lips. Daniel had gained quite a bit of weight over the years but he was still an attractive man. Pity he was such a terrible dresser, something Adrian always found an unforgivable turn off.
Another hasty depression on the keyboard brought a brilliant blue image to his eyes. He hummed in approval and curled long fingers around his stiff length. Doctor Manhattan was a gay superhero's dream. He was calm, heavily muscled, graceful, and colorful in body if not in personality. He was also in a near constant state of nudity, a fact that shocked and unsettled most people so thoroughly that gay and straight alike had to fight not to surreptitiously stare at his naked genitals. Thus no one ever really noticed when Adrian's gaze lingered far too long between those firm blue legs.
His lips parted on a fraction to mutter at the screen as his right hand began to work himself. "Well...after we're done saving the world maybe I can solve your energy crisis, Jon." God knows Laurie wasn't doing it for him.
The mood set, Adrian began to peruse deeper into the contents of the Boys Folder. He drank in the sight of ripe young men straining to break free of their spandex. Boys in dresses and makeup would grace the screen one moment, only to be replaced in the next by sweaty, muscled lumberjacks. The full spectrum of masculinity, with a few special photos of boys dressed in pharaoh garb. He lingered for a long moment on an old image of Yul Brynner. The day that stopped turning him on was the day someone dropped a squid right on his head.
Adrian Veidt was never one to masturbate furiously. Tonight was no exception as he treated himself to deliberate manipulation and teasing, feather-light. Each maneuver performed with the same languid certitude with which he conducted his business dealings. His agile mind breathed life into the men on the screen. They became sharp and beautiful, kneeling before him. Eager to please. He could hear their voices telling him that he did the right thing, that a peaceful world justified the means. Thanking him.
His head lolled back as he leaned in his expensive executive chair, cheeks at last deigning to slightly flush. Posture opened and body exposed, he was spread unashamed in front of the huge office window for the world to view. Shallow breath caught in his throat when an image appeared of an old favorite from his Studio 54 days. Adrian remembered.....
Soft yet leonine, the man was a walking contradiction. The growling, hungry voice seemed dichotomous when paired with his agile, willowy body. At times he seemed more interested in playing the woman, bringing his famous lips to any part of Adrian's exposed skin and begging to be fucked. A week later he'd be all man, strutting around the clubs in a pinstriped suit and barking out orders like a drill sergeant, happy only when he was on top. And just when Adrian suspected he was too bubble headed to suffer much longer, he would drop a few lines from a favorite Dylan Thomas poem. Or make a frighteningly astute observation on the current state of world financial affairs.
He was still no match for the world's smartest man, but he was interesting. And holding the interest of Ozymandias for more than an evening at a time was a feat unto itself.
"Another round then, Ozy?"
Adrian padded into the bedroom, pleased to be greeted by the sight of his lover, the decadent aesthete, waiting for him on the bed in a purple silk robe.
"I don't think that's your color."
He slid out of the robe and wound the delicate fabric around Adrian's waist, using it to draw him closer.
"No? Maybe you're right. I think it's more your color, anyway."
"That's quite a bit of purple, Mick. People might think I'm gay." He flashed a predatory grin, the one that almost never failed to get his lover under his thumb.
"They'll figure that out from the nipples on your costume, love." His voice changed from sexy to more thoughtful. "This color really does suit you. It....captures your power. I'll show you. Have you ever tripped?"
Adrian wasn't surprised by the question. Very little ever shocked him. "Once. Years ago in Egypt I ate a hash ball and--"
"A what? A hash ball? Really, Ozy, I didn't mean hash. I'm talking about acid."
Adrian almost rolled his eyes. Of course he was.
Mick produced an ornate box from the nightstand and from it removed a small piece of paper with the utmost care. "Now open wide like a good boy...."
His fingers wound tighter at the memory. He tipped back further in the chair and placed one long leg on his desk, scattering copies of Under the Hood and Ramses II. Although the office was many stories up he reveled in the knowledge that it was only a pane of glass that separated any prying eyes from his performance of extravagant self-gratification. If revealing his true identity had shown anything, it was that Adrian was not a man who was afraid to be caught in the act.
Awareness of the outside world slipped away as his grip became more pleasurable. He skipped through more images with his free hand, searching for the most sexually charged ones. It was not long before the Boys Folder gifted him with one of his fondest recollections....
David.
David an ephemeral, androgynous dream bent over before him. Sweat running down his thighs. Hands cuffed behind his back. Shoulders shaking.
They shifted, and Ozymandias noticed blood on the sheets. Not enough to put him into a state of any concern. Not if he was to judge by the masculine groans and incitements spilling from his partner's feminine mouth.
David turned his head. He had started the evening with makeup so perfect it would have made Cleopatra jealous. Now it was smeared across the upper half of his face like a sinful mask. He was so thin, the lines of his body so rigid. He could be a breaking butterfly, or a brittle China doll ready to snap.
Then he spoke, and his voice was more that of a poisonous spider. Calm and carnivorous, even in submission. Appealing to Ozymandias to perform an especially filthy act.
"Not a mad request, is it, Adrian?" David knew Ozymandias' real name before the rest of the world did.
He trailed his fingers down his lover's perspiring back with something resembling true affection. David was pure sex and synesthesia. It was hard to deny him anything.
"No. Not mad at all." Adrian moved to comply.....
A few strands of damp blond hair fell into his eyes. He was now fully sprawled at his desk, private moment on display. A delicious, low pinch heralded the first shivers of completion. That initial state where orgasm was imminent, and would be so much better if one just let it happen without chasing. Adrian employed all his famed control to keep himself at the torturously slow pace. He just needed a little something extra to carry him along.
He clicked towards the last file in the Boys Folder and found what he was looking for. The perfect picture. With a small cry he surrendered to ecstatic convulsions, body seizing as he burst all over the expensive purple jacket.
And draped over his chair half naked in front of the office window, sticky and dazed, Adrian Veidt rode out the last euphoric tremors as he stared at a high-quality photo of himself.
100 yards away, in the Owlship
"Ha! I knew it!" Laurie crowed, with no small amount of triumph, as she peered through the Owlscope.
"What? What's he doing now? Is he still looking at those pictures?" Dan was curious in spite of himself.
Laurie giggled. "I...think he's finished with that."
"Then can we stop invading his privacy?" Dan gingerly took the Owlscope from her, feeling a pang of guilt over the enjoyment of spying on an old friend.
"Oh, you're shy and reserved now?" She gestured towards his still nude body. It had been over an hour since they'd had some of most passionate sex she'd experienced in years and they were both still naked. A good sign that they'd probably be doing it again before the night was out.
"It just doesn't feel right. C'mere..." He pulled her close.
"You know," Laurie purred into his ear. "I think I saw a picture of you in there."
"Wait? What? Really?" Dan couldn't help but feel flattered.
"Yeah," she straddled his legs, "maybe we should go ask him if he wants to join us."
"Oh...um...you're into that, are you? Being with two guys?"
"Maybe." If they're both actually separate people.
Dan didn't notice her slight cringing. "That kind of goes along with an idea I've been having."
Laurie raised her eyebrows, urging him to continue. "An idea? Well, I'm open to suggestions. What shall we do next?"
"I've been thinking about that, and I feel we have certain obligations to our fraternity...."
The End.