Title: Common Ground
Characters: Adrian/Rorschach.
Rating: Mature, explicit. Slash/porn. Consensual(!), although Adrian's a bit pushy.
Word count: 4682
Summary: Rorschach investigates further.
Thanks to
runriggers for the beta.
===
It's three o'clock in the morning. Most of the Veidt Building's floors should be completely empty - especially the fifth floor, which contains very little other than a few minor offices. The offices themselves simply deal with some of the excess paperwork from the HR department; nothing particularly interesting. It isn't a place that many people would feel inclined to visit.
...With the exception of Rorschach, for some reason.
There's something nonchalant about the way Rorschach hunts through drawers and cabinets. Occasionally he'll pause to read a document, then carefully return it to its proper place. Everything he does is patient and deliberate. He's very thorough.
He has the arrogance of a serial burglar, accustomed to not getting caught. Perhaps this shouldn't be surprising, as it takes a special sort of arrogance to break into the Veidt Building in the first place.
It probably wouldn't cross Rorschach's mind that he's being observed, but Adrian has ways.
Adrian watches Rorschach for a while from the comfort of his penthouse. (Adrian likes watching the security monitors when he can't sleep, which is increasingly often.) He considers calling security, but that would be rather dull and, besides, he has a few glasses of wine in him and he's feeling gregarious. So, he decides to indulge himself, and opts to deal with Rorschach personally.
It's quiet, and the lights are dim. Adrian allows himself a childish thrill of anticipation as he moves through the building. When he reaches the offices on the fifth floor, he stalks to the room where Rorschach is, and waits, then...
Boo. "Hello, Rorschach."
To his credit, Rorschach doesn't flinch. He freezes for a second, poised over the open filing cabinet that he was rooting through... then, very slowly, he turns around to face Adrian. He looks every bit the proverbial kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Adrian stands in the room's doorway and crosses his arms. "Are you going to tell me why you're trespassing at this hour?"
Rorschach remains perfectly still, although Adrian can practically hear the cogs turning inside his head.
"I'm not going to call security," Adrian says. "I'd just appreciate an honest answer."
Still no reply. Rorschach has some sense, at least.
"Fine," says Adrian. He takes a step back so he isn't blocking the doorway. "But I do hope you haven't been menacing any of my employees or damaging my property. I'm willing to tolerate your absurd nocturnal habits, to a point, but I don't want you affecting productivity."
The ink swirls, and there's a brief simulacrum of a monstrous face, teeth bared. Rorschach obviously doesn't appreciate being treated like a delinquent child. "Know you're up to something, Veidt."
Adrian looks him up and down. "No, you really don't. You suspect me of participating in some illegal activity because you don't like me, so you're looking for evidence to vindicate your paranoia. You reason that, if you search long and hard enough, you'll find something. I provide fodder for your conspiracy fantasies."
Rorschach's tone is perfectly deadpan. "If you say so."
Adrian just smiles. "You're free to leave at any time, you know. The cleaning staff will be here in three hours."
Rorschach studies him very carefully, likely suspecting a trap. He still bristles with the indignity of being caught red-handed. Slowly, he makes his way out of the room, pointedly staring at Adrian as he passes him.
"Know you're up to something," Rorschach repeats.
The comment is meaningless - of course Adrian is up to something, who isn't? - but Adrian feels a twinge of irritation. He knows why Rorschach seems to reserve a special sort of suspicion for him, and he finds it tiresome.
So, Adrian has a terrible idea, and he decides to indulge it.
"Would you still find me so interesting if I sucked your cock, or would that spoil the mystique?" he asks. It's such a stupid, vulgar comment, but he feels no shame in saying it, and Rorschach already dislikes him anyway. Adrian has nothing to lose.
Rorschach freezes for a good five seconds, stopping dead in his tracks. For a moment, he looks completely stunned - even the ink of his mask seems to stop moving. Then he says, "You're depraved."
"You've suspected that all along, naturally," Adrian says blandly.
"You're not even ashamed." Rorschach's body is taut with disgust and unfocused rage, although he still has a shred of self-preservation that prevents him from doing anything dramatic. He's rather easy to torment, when it comes down to it. Adrian was expecting him to have more sangfroid.
"Yes, well, you know me," Adrian says. "I'm an effete, indolent liberal. It must have crossed your mind that I fuck men, at the very least." Good lord, he sounds like a predatory queer from some awful pulp story. He hasn't actually had sex in years, but he's unwilling to ruin Rorschach's fevered imaginings by admitting that.
Rorschach makes a noise that's a cross between a growl and a cough.
"Oh, come on, Rorschach - I'm quite aware that my sex life is the subject of much speculation, and I can imagine how gratified you'd feel if you found the tiniest speck of dirt on me." Adrian sighs. "So I might as well be honest, in the hope that it'll satisfy some of your perverse curiosity: I do fuck men. Are you happy, now? Will you stop snooping around my offices in future? Surely you don't intend to use the information against me; better people than you have already tried."
"You don't care about being exposed," Rorschach snarls. It'd be easy to mistake his fear for anger. "You don't think it'll get you into trouble. Think you're above everything."
Adrian shrugs. It's hardly as simple as that, regardless of what Rorschach would like to believe. He isn't interested in arguing, though. You can't argue with a person like Rorschach. There's no point. So, for the hell of it, he says, "If you do want me to suck your cock, then please at least take a shower first. My depravity has limits."
Rorschach bristles like a startled tomcat again. He doesn't dignify the statement with a reply. It takes him a second to collect himself, and then he storms away, vaulting out a window onto a ledge beyond.
Adrian waits until Rorschach is out of earshot, and laughs.
Then he checks his composure, and tells himself to stop being foolish. (It crosses his mind, not for the first time, that he might be a bit of a bully, but he finds himself unable to care.)
--
They meet again in similar circumstances, days later. Adrian is surprised by how soon Rorschach returns. The man just doesn't give up. This time, though, Rorschach doesn't break into the Veidt Building's offices; no, he takes it a step further, and actually breaks into Adrian's personal quarters.
When the security system quietly registers the intrusion, Adrian rolls his eyes and checks his reserves of patience. Some people should know when to quit. Rorschach has managed to disable some of the alarms (using equipment borrowed from Daniel Dreiberg, no doubt) but he's very old school. Electronics really aren't his forte. He's a man who belongs to a world of lock picks and screwdrivers, not motion sensors and CCTV.
Adrian gives Rorschach a few minutes to rummage around the lounge of his penthouse, then sneaks in, joining him.
Again, Rorschach freezes when he notices Adrian's presence. Being caught once is unfortunate. Being caught twice is embarrassing.
(Unless it's on purpose, of course.)
"Oh, it's you again," Adrian says, with dull surprise. "Found anything good yet?"
Rorschach just grunts.
"...Am I interrupting?" Adrian asks.
Rorschach doesn't move. Adrian supposes he's considering all the possible exits.
Oh, for god's sake, Adrian thinks. He approaches Rorschach, just to see how he'll react. Rorschach doesn't even twitch.
When Adrian is two steps away from the other man, he pauses. Something strikes him as being deeply wrong. It takes him a moment to realize what it is.
Rorschach doesn't smell. Of anything. Not sweat, not damp, not rotting newspapers or old socks.
The stains on his coat look slightly fainter than usual, too.
Adrian is perplexed, which doesn't happen very often. He has to stop and think for a moment, although his thoughts take him to strange places. When he eventually comes to a conclusion, he clasps his hands together behind his back, and clears his throat.
"You've actually taken a shower," Adrian says, while gripped by an awful curiosity.
Rorschach squares his shoulders.
Adrian recalls their last encounter, and replays it in his mind. He has an excellent memory, so it isn't difficult for him to recall, exactly, his parting words when they last spoke. But... no. Wait. It makes no sense, except...
Adrian struggles with the evidence.
It's all slightly surreal. Adrian wants to laugh, to dispel the awkwardness. He wouldn't say he's uncomfortable, but he does feel... well, slightly foolish. So far, Rorschach has managed to make him feel perplexed and inexplicably embarrassed, both in the same night. That's new.
"Oh," Adrian says. "Well."
The two of them size each other up.
"You can leave, or you can sit down on the couch," Adrian says, just to see what Rorschach will do.
Rorschach sits down, as if accepting a personal challenge.
For once, Adrian is at a loss for words. He can't shake the feeling that Rorschach is toying with him. He crosses his arms, and takes a few paces up and down, stalling for time as he tries to assess the situation.
If Rorschach enjoys seeing him so perplexed, then he doesn't show it. He looks anxious and uncomfortable.
Adrian bites the bullet, and finally asks, "You really think I'd suck your cock?"
Rorschach seems to brace for mockery.
Adrian shouldn't need to point out that the comment was meant to be a joke, although perhaps Rorschach has a very different sense of humor.
"You have quite a nerve, you know," Adrian says, without rancor. He quickly weighs up whether he would, in fact, be willing to fuck Rorschach. He decides that he would. It's a terrible idea, but it does have immense novelty value... and besides, it's not as if he has to worry about Rorschach's sense of discretion. Rorschach would probably be more willing to eat his own fedora than tell anyone about his sexual exploits.
Strangely, he's not at all surprised by Rorschach's sexuality. It takes all sorts. The fact that the man is a hypocritical, duplicitous, right wing bluenose just makes it rather sad, if anything.
Rorschach just sits there, radiating grumpiness and guilt. He offers no explanation.
Adrian decides that the best thing he can do is take control of the situation. He steels himself, and kneels in front of Rorschach's legs. Then he places his hands on Rorschach's knees. Rorschach tenses in surprise, but doesn't draw back.
"Do you want me do this because you want to turn me down?" Adrian asks. "That would appeal to you, wouldn't it? The depraved homosexual makes advances on you, but you manage to resist his corrupting influence. I suspect that you might get a bigger thrill out of turning me away, to be honest."
The ink moves slowly, and Rorschach finally speaks. "Could question your motives, likewise."
"Don't try to change the subject," Adrian says. "You're the one to came to me. Why would you trust me with this, anyway?"
"You know I won't admit to doing anything," Rorschach says, with some difficulty. "Doubt you'd admit to anything, either."
"True, but that doesn't answer my question. Why come to me, specifically?"
"Thought you knew everything, Veidt."
Very slowly, Adrian unfastens Rorschach's coat, anticipating rejection. He wants to see how far he can go. "When we last spoke, you told me I was depraved. I have to say, you have a very strange concept of flirtation."
"I don't like you." Rorschach's voice is small and cold. "And I'm here because I don't like you, not in spite of it."
Adrian gives him an indulgent look that's calculated to be as infuriating as possible. "Oh. I'm the only person you're willing to debase by fucking, is that it?" The word 'fucking' makes Rorschach flinch, but Adrian doesn't wait for him to reply or protest; he pushes Rorschach's knees apart, and presses his mouth against the warmth of Rorschach's crotch.
Rorschach inhales sharply, as if stung. Adrian expects to be pushed away, but he's still tolerated.
Adrian mouths him through the fabric, feeling satisfied in the knowledge that Rorschach is going to have an embarrassing wet patch on his pants for a while. He only stops when he feels Rorschach's cock harden - and then he glances up, and scrutinizes him again.
"I'm afraid that I still don't understand it, though," Adrian admits. "If you wanted demeaning sex with someone you dislike, then you could've hired a prostitute..."
Rorschach doesn't say anything, but he bristles.
"...Or met a stranger somewhere," Adrian says, with a shrug. He unbuttons Rorschach's suit jacket, unfastens his suspenders, then untucks his shirt from the waistband of his pants - when he pushes the shirt up, he finds a vest. It's a bit like unwrapping a very strange birthday present. One that might explode at any given second, perhaps.
"I'm not like that," Rorschach says, sounding strained.
Adrian squints at him as he unzips Rorschach's fly. "You're telling me that you've never engaged in sticky, clumsy, anonymous fornication with a total stranger before? You've never got down on your knees in a filthy alley somewhere, probably hating yourself all the while, wallowing in the desperation and lewdness of it and so on, et cetera?"
Rorschach does a remarkable job at maintaining composure. "No," he says, icily. "Have you?"
"I tried it. The novelty wore off quite quickly. I think the problem was that I never felt guilty, and the guilt was probably meant to be half the fun." Adrian isn't sure if he believes Rorschach's protestation - but if Rorschach was lying, surely it would be more obvious.
With a mix of triumph and disbelief, Adrian finally exposes Rorschach's cock. He runs his hand along its length, and decides that it would be impolite to comment on Rorschach's hair color. Rorschach, for his part, just tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling, as if he wishes he was somewhere else.
"You know, you should at least take your hat off," Adrian says, as politely as possible.
Rorschach glances back down at him, and stares for a second, then obliges. (Adrian notes the way that the ink spreads across Rorschach's face.)
Adrian is satisfied. He leans in and takes the tip of Rorschach's cock in his mouth, running his tongue around the glans, and watches Rorschach carefully. Predictably, Rorschach turns his head to avoid his gaze. Adrian inwardly smirks, then slowly takes in as much of the length as possible, only pausing when it tickles his throat.
He enjoys it; the sensation and taste remind him of a time when, without the burden of a reputation, he could afford to be less cautious. He once went through a phrase where he found novelty in picking up the roughest boy he could find and fucking him silly (which, in retrospect, seems like a bit of a clichéd thing to do) and he absently wonders if he's trying to recreate the same dynamic.
Rorschach is obviously trying to not react, but it's impossible. He grips the cushion of the couch, as he's probably unwilling to put his hands on Adrian, and hunches his shoulders as if he's trying to make himself look smaller. He only makes a noise when Adrian takes him deeply and licks the underside of the shaft.
Adrian stops, so he can ask, "You like that?" The problem with blowjobs is that they make it difficult to continue a conversation, and Adrian enjoys talking.
He doesn't expect Rorschach to answer, so he isn't offended by the lack of a reply. Rorschach still looks away, not quite sure what to do with himself. The ink moves rapidly.
Adrian gets up, and worms his way further into Rorschach's personal space. He's allowed to straddle Rorschach's lap, even though the position puts Rorschach at an obvious disadvantage. He pushes Rorschach's shirt and vest up and out of the way, and bows his head to place kisses on Rorschach's chest; little gestures meant to convey an affection that doesn't actually exist. Rorschach doesn't really respond until Adrian pauses to gently suck on a nipple, and then he makes a sound that almost like an expression of shock and disgust, but not quite.
Adrian feels pleased with himself. He takes Rorschach's cock in his hand again, jerking him off.
"Why did you come to me?" Adrian murmurs.
"It worries you," Rorschach says, "when you don't have an answer." He sounds distracted and lost, but somehow, somehow, there's still something in his voice that suggests he's laughing at Adrian, insofar as Rorschach ever laughs at anything.
"If you don't tell me, I'll stop," Adrian says.
"Autocrat," mutters Rorschach.
Adrian rolls his eyes, and grips Rorschach's cock to keep it hard. "You probably want me to stop, don't you? Denial seems to be your thing."
The ink swirls, inhuman and inscrutable, but Rorschach sounds annoyed when he speaks again. "I don't... Don't know why I came to you."
"Well, that's not good enough," says Adrian.
Rorschach's jaw moves, as if he's grinding his teeth.
"Is this a humiliation thing?" Adrian asks. "Some sort of self-punishment? Since you seemed so disgusted by the thought of sex with men..."
Despite his compromised position, Rorschach still manages to scoff. "Do you subject all of your, hrn...your partners to cheap armchair psychology, Veidt?"
"Only the notoriously conservative ones." Adrian tugs on Rorschach's cock, just to watch him flinch. "Aren't you rather betraying your principles by being here?"
Rorschach doesn't immediately respond. He seems to withdraw - and for a few seconds, Adrian gets the strange impression that the other man is absent, somehow. Then, Rorschach says, "If I have to betray my principles, just once, then I'd choose to do it with someone who has already betrayed his."
Adrian laughs. "You have no idea about my principles."
With his free hand, Adrian unfastens his own pants and strokes himself to hardness. There's something perfunctory about the way he does it, and he decides that it must be because he doesn't find Rorschach particularly attractive; although, to be fair, that has more do with the man's personality than anything else.
There's a part of Adrian that wants to humiliate Rorschach. It's so tempting to exploit the man's homophobia and lean on his guilt, but... it still doesn't sit well with him. Adrian would like to think that he's better than that.
The world loses its clarity as his cock swells. Ridiculously (and he knows it's ridiculous), he wants Rorschach to look at it, and be ashamed. Adrian rises on his knees, so his cock is more level with Rorschach's face.
He tries to place his hand on Rorschach's head, but Rorschach grunts and flinches away.
"Oh, come on. If you're going to betray your principles, then you might as well betray them thoroughly," Adrian says. He resumes jerking him off, but very slowly, and Rorschach fails to suppress a quiet moan of relief.
"It's alright," Adrian murmurs. "No-one will ever know about this."
"I'd know," Rorschach says.
Adrian smirks. "Somehow, I doubt it's something you've never thought about before."
Rorschach sounds rather defensive when he speaks again. "Thinking is not the same as doing."
"Even if you do nothing, though, the curiosity will remain with you. And you'll have to satisfy that curiosity sooner or later. So if not now, then when?" Adrian's voice remains steady and soothing, but he has to laugh at himself. He sounds like a motivational speaker. "Of course, you can always ask me to stop."
Rorschach seems to withdraw again, although he makes a small whimper when Adrian runs his thumb over the slit of his cock. He's so infuriatingly passive, there's something greedy about it, as if he thinks he can just sit there and be fussed over without giving anything in return.
Adrian grows impatient, so he tries a different approach: "Rorschach. Suck me off."
It's as if something just clicks into place. Rorschach hesitates, then pushes his mask up to the bridge of his nose. Tentatively, he bows his head and takes Adrian in his mouth.
Adrian breathes out, although he's unable to relax entirely. Rorschach's mouth is warm and wet, but clumsy. "That's good," Adrian says, and places both his hands on Rorschach's shoulders. "Cover your teeth with your lips."
Rorschach obeys, and Adrian begins to thrust. He looks down to appreciate the sight of Rorschach having his mouth fucked. The sight is more satisfying than the actual sensation. It's just a pity he can't see Rorschach's eyes.
"Touch yourself," Adrian tells him.
Rorschach's right hand strays to the reddened flesh between his legs, and he tugs and pumps at himself, mindless and rough.
"Is that how you satisfy yourself when you're alone?" Adrian asks. "I can imagine you, you know: I bet you do it with your eyes screwed shut, so you don't have to look at it."
Rorschach can't answer, so he grazes Adrian's skin with his teeth, as a warning.
Adrian flinches, then feels mildly annoyed with himself for showing pain. Rorschach doesn't smile, of course - but somehow, he almost looks as if he could.
Adrian quickens his thrusts, just to prove a point.
His mind begins to lose its ability to focus, but it's a slow, gradual thing - cautious, even. There's no heady rush or sense of abandonment (although Adrian doesn't really know what he's trying to hold back), and there definitely isn't any sense of emotional connection. (Not that it matters, says Adrian's sense of prudence. If you want companionship, then make a cat.) It's impossible for things to be completely impersonal, however, as the two of them have already seen too much of each other.
He realizes that he's moaning quietly, and makes himself stop. When he can steady his voice again, he says, "I'm going to come in your mouth."
Rorschach doesn't protest, as he's lost in his own little world, jerking himself off as if he's spent too long deprived of release and Adrian has somehow given him permission.
Adrian digs his fingers into Rorschach's shoulders, and actually manages to make Rorschach wince.
When it happens, Adrian's orgasm feels slightly disconcerting. It isn't intense, so he's able to retain a shred of awareness, and he's conscious of how his body breaks free of his control and bucks against the other man, like a lover.
Then he pulls out, and wipes the head of his cock against Rorschach's lips. Rorschach grimaces in disgust, but swallows Adrian's come.
Adrian sits back down on Rorschach's lap, still straddling him - it's a little awkward because of their height difference - and Rorschach squirms under Adrian's weight. It's clear that Rorschach is close now, just a breath away from the edge. He's so desperate and tense, something has to give. Adrian runs his hands over Rorschach's chest, feeling muscle and bone and the occasional raised bump of scar tissue, until his fingers find the other man's nipples, to circle them.
Rorschach inhales sharply, and ejaculates. Perhaps it catches him off-guard, because his mouth opens as if he's surprised by it. Adrian actually feels something for Rorschach, then: a small twinge of something that might be fondness, might be sympathy.
Once it's all over, Adrian removes himself from Rorschach's lap, so he isn't in Rorschach's way, and stands up to straighten his suit.
As they both have semen on their clothes, Adrian heads into the bathroom to fetch a damp towel. When he returns, he's a little surprised to find that Rorschach is still slumped on the couch, looking gratifyingly debauched.
Adrian offers the towel. Rorschach snatches it out of his hand.
"Homosexuality," Adrian mutters. "Next I'll seduce you with the evils of drugs and communism. If you're lucky, I might even indoctrinate you into the Homintern."
"This is all a joke to you," says Rorschach, fierce and sanctimonious again. He seems to recover pretty quickly.
Adrian shrugs at him, and sits down on a chair, opposite.
Rorschach cleans himself off and covers himself up. There's a large band of black across the middle of his face, surrounded by smaller eddies of ink. "You have no shame," he murmurs.
"No, not really," Adrian replies. "Would you like a drink?"
"No."
"Suit yourself. So, are you going to stop sneaking around my offices in future?"
"No."
Adrian sighs. He leans back, feeling tired and still a little perplexed. "You're a very strange man."
Rorschach gives him a very long look, and snorts. Then he pulls his mask back down over his face.
"You know," Adrian says, "I have to ask: how do you stand to live as you do?"
The ink blots shift abruptly. "Could ask you the same question."
"Are you going to tell me I'm depraved again?" Adrian asks.
Rorschach's shoulders slump slightly, although there's an edge in his voice when he speaks. "Do you enjoy making this worse?"
Adrian raises his eyebrows. "I didn't think it was that bad."
"Very easy for you to say."
Careful, Rorschach, Adrian thinks. Your self-loathing is showing. He decides to disengage from the conversation, and stands up to fetch a Scotch from the small liquor cabinet that he keeps for the sake of guests. He really isn't a drinker - alcohol isn't a vice that he likes to encourage - but he wants a whisky tumbler to occupy his hands.
While Adrian has his back to him, Rorschach mutters, "Still know you're up to something."
"Mmhm," Adrian says. "Now you're just reaching."
He hears Rorschach stand up, and turns around to see the other man trying to brush the creases out of his trench coat. Adrian watches him, and considers the significance of the fact that Rorschach is in costume. Of course, he'd have to be in costume in order for Adrian to recognize him, but still, Adrian is slightly intrigued by it.
Before Adrian can give it further thought, however, Rorschach speaks again. "Must be nice for you to look down on people from your ivory tower. Imagine that the perspective makes everyone appear very small, though."
Adrian samples the scotch. He finds the taste a little cloying. "Well, I don't imagine you'd ever expect humility from a person billed as 'The World's Smartest Man'."
Rorschach just grunts, as dissatisfied as ever, and dons his hat. He then glances around, back to considering possible exits.
"You can take my private lift, if you'd like," Adrian says. "No-one will see you."
Rorschach ignores him, and marches towards the hallway, clearly intent on exiting the penthouse the same way he got in - probably via a window somewhere, which is no mean feat. He's obviously back to his self-assured, hostile old self.
"So," Adrian says, before Rorschach is out of earshot. "Was it worth it? Betraying your principles, I mean?"
Rorschach hesitates. He looks back over his shoulder and, after an impeccable dramatic pause, says, "...No."
Ouch, thinks Adrian, although he has the good grace to laugh. He refrains from asking if Rorschach has had better sex elsewhere.
He decides that he's unable to dislike Rorschach entirely, although that will probably count for very little in the long-term. If Rorschach continues to make a nuisance of himself, then steps will need to be taken. Still, Rorschach has always been the least of Adrian's worries; in some ways, Adrian is grateful for the distraction he provides.
"Well, feel free to come back if you ever get the urge to betray your principles again," Adrian says. "Maybe you just need practice."
Rorschach doesn't reply. He slips out of the room, disappearing from the view. Adrian lets him go. He trusts Rorschach to not get caught by the security personnel on his way out.