Watchmen Kink Meme 3. Weeeeeeee.
Rules of the meme:
1. Anonymously post a pairing and prompt you would like to see written. Since this is a kink meme, there is supposted to be a kink involved, but normal well-written prompts should work just as well.
2. Anonymous will respond to your post and write it for you! Art and such is also acceptable/awesome. Multiple people may respond to ( Read more... )
Having Bubastis around for only four months of each year does no wonders for his mood, but it helps focus him. Veidt had not realized how dependant he had become on her presence, her earnest love.
It's for the best, then; he can't afford to rely on anyone or anything.
He throws himself into his business. He slips from 'filthy rich' to 'obscenely rich' and starts thinking about buildnig a skyscraper. He advocates for good causes. The second year Bubastis winters over in Antarctica, he gets a boyfriend. His latest is thirty-five, babyfaced and perpetually serious, a climatologist working for one of the good causes. Veidt hesitates, but, he thinks, homosexuality is becoming more acceptable all the time; anyone who hates him for his personal life no doubt already hates him for offering domestic partner benefits to his employees. And they're not exactly shouting it from the rooftops. (A small part of his mind cries he's being unfaithful to Bubastis, but he stomps it down; it's just old-fashioned socialization talking.)
The boy insists, with the weird earnestness common in those dedicated to a Good Cause, on treating Veidt to dinner at an upscale Italian restaurant. He wrinkles his nose when he sees four-legged chicken on the menu, gets the lasagna bolognase, then falls into a panic when Veidt orders a salad. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot - here, I'll change my order -"
"It's fine," Veidt tells him gently. "I don't mind people eating meat in front of me. It's your body." The boy still looks nervous, so he continues, "At least you had better taste than to get the four-legged chicken."
"Oh yes." The boy relaxes at his teasing tone. "I can't belive a place like this has it on the menu. I mean, really, it's one of those hideous stunts. And who knows what might be wrong with it? It's a hideous mutant! Um."
"I'm sure the developers were careful. However, it certainly is, as you suggest, a purposeless stunt." Veidt smiles and wonders how long it will take the boy to remember he owns a genetic engineering lab.
A few seconds, apparently, because the boy hastily continues, "Not that all mutants are bad, I mean, those mutant bacteria they're working on for insulin production, things like that. Those are worthwhile. But there are lots of companies just out to make a buck."
"Spin-offs, I'm afraid, are a hazard of any worthwhile invention," Veidt interjects smoothly. "You can't have television without foaming TV pundits, and you can't have genetic engineering without having designer food animals. I like to think my company has at least selected beautiful mutants to sell for the cash-flow." Not that it matters. For the sake of their medical research, he would have sold eight-legged chickens if that was what people would buy. That they were happy, instead, with his gorgeous monsters, the miniature big cats and snakes in purple and silver and affectionate tame ferrets with fox-size ears, has always made him feel a little better about the world.
The boy nods seriously. "The pets don't hurt anything, I suppose. Although I'd rather people adopted from a shelter, of course."
Of course. An admirable urge. Still, if no luxuries were allowed until everyone was comfortable, there would be never be a painting or an opera or a fine dessert in the world, for some forms of misery are perpetual, and Adrian thinks the world would be poorer for it even if some of its inhabitants were marginally more wealthy.
He doesn't voice it, though. He points out that they get more profit from the pets than they could get donations for their research. The boy concedes that point.
They go to the boy's apartment after dinner. The boy gives head like he does everything else, with earnest intensity and great concentration. Veidt matches it on the surface even as his mind drifts. He's thinking about their conversation over dinner, and about Bubastis, his precious girl, one-of-a-kind. One-of-a-kind is always special.
He likes his latest, and they have some fascinating arguments. But of course, Veidt could never love him. He breaks it off gently after fifteen weeks, a few days before Bubastis comes home.
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