The Heart Heals Itself - Chapter 1
Title: The Heart Heals Itself
Pairing: Matt Sanders/James Hart, possibly slight Matt/Zack Baker
Author: Vickslovesslash and Rachael (non-LJ user)
Rating: Overall NC-17
Warnings: Mental instability and Matt being an arsehole.
Summary: Matt's bad attitude changes his life forever.
Author's Notes: Hello! Remember us? So this is the latest from us. We do have more of this story written but we're going to put this out here for a while and see what reaction it gets. Thanks for bearing with us, I know it's been a while and I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 1-What It’s like to be me
I let out a loud and drawn out groan as the piercing sound of my alarm entered my consciousness. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been waking myself up at 5am every morning, I don’t think that my body will ever get used to it. I uncurled myself from my cover cocoon, scratching my head as my jaw stretched to its max and a yawn escaped me. I don’t even think this would be easier if I had someone to wake up with. To me that’s just having someone in your house to bitch at you about every little thing you do that they find annoying. No. Relationships are not my style. Friends are not my style. I’d rather be alone and live the way I want to live than have friends and be judged for every move that I make.
I rose from the bed, giving my balls a good scratch as I shuffled towards my high spec, don’t care about the cost bathroom, nestled in the far corner of my high spec, don’t care about the cost house. Some people call paying top dollar for everything showing off; I call it living in the lifestyle that my bank account allows.
To follow is the same old routine that I follow every morning. I stepped under the freezing cold shower, feeling my body erupt in goosebumps and shivering delightedly. I enjoy a good, cold shower. It’s refreshing for the body. I scrubbed myself quickly, admiring the way my inked skin glistened in the early morning light pouring through the window. As I stepped onto the rug I curled my toes into the soft fabric and pulled my towelling robe around me, wandering to the living room and switching on the news, not really paying attention. I don’t enjoy starting my day with death, destruction and war but I like to stay informed. A man of my position that spends at least two nights a week at functions and fundraisers should be able to talk about current events and sound as if he knows the ins and outs of everything. Of course, I bullshit most of it but; I’m good at that. I fixed myself a bowl of low fat cereal with skimmed milk. My body is my temple and I’ll keep it that way, even with no one to worship it. As I chewed slowly I looked through my papers, letting my head fill with consignments of drugs, poison requisitions and staff reports on action and reaction perception. Losing myself in my work is my favourite thing to do. To get to the top you need to eat, sleep and be the job. You need to be married to the job. People are just a distraction.
At 6 I stripped naked and starting my daily exercise, push ups, crunches and weight lifting. I liked to look tough and imposing and even under a suit, muscles helped. The best way to get people to do what you want is to scare them into it, and that is something that I was incredibly good at. And if I couldn’t scare them into it, I found dirt on them and had them fired. They can beg, plead, cry and shout as much as they like but eventually they do what I want. And if they don’t then they regret it. Once you’ve been fired by our company, you’ll never work in this town again.
After wiping myself down and applying a generous blast of body spray I dressed in my power suit; perfectly pressed black trousers, black jacket, white shirt and red tie. The perfect outfit for doing hard and fast business. The outfit that’s going to get me promoted, hopefully sooner rather than later.
I locked my apartment, pretending not to notice the scowls and sneers of the other residents as I walked confidently down the hall. Their opinion didn’t matter to me. They were just the little people. The bottom feeders of the world that no one gave a damn about. I buckled into my sleek, black Gallardo and sped off to my offices, being let in by the sour faced security guard whom I had demoted to the front gate after I caught him using a company phone to make a long distance call. He gave me some ridiculous story about calling his wife who’s in Canada with their daughter getting her treatment for cancer. Like it’s my problem. He should have opted for a job with health insurance.
As I sat behind my beautiful teak desk my assistant passed me my messages and put my coffee in front of me in silence. She despises me, but without my say so she’ll never be promoted so she deals with all of the ridiculous errands that I send her on. I sent her 30 miles to a dry cleaners on the edge of town with my suits last week simply because I was sick of the sight of her drawn, mousy face. I don’t understand women who don’t try and make themselves beautiful and then complain when they can’t get a man to fuck them. It’s just common sense.
On the request of my boss I dragged myself to the top floor to see him. He’s a fat, flatulent wanker but if I suck up to him enough I could be made a partner by the time I’m thirty. So I tolerate him slapping me on the back with his thick, meaty palm as he blows disgusting cigar smoke in my face and tells me another crass joke about pussy. I laugh and pretend like I’m interested when he tells me another long and boring story about why he doesn’t look at his wife while he fucks her anymore. And I wait. I wait for the day when all of that torture will pay off.
That day is today.
I walked into that office as Matt Sanders, Bsc, MA, head of developments at Harband Pharmaceuticals. I walked out of it, Matt Sanders, CEO of Harband Pharmaceuticals. This is what it’s like to be me. And life doesn’t get much better than this.
Pairing: Matt Sanders/James Hart, possibly slight Matt/Zack Baker
Author: Vickslovesslash and Rachael (non-LJ user)
Rating: Overall NC-17
Warnings: Mental instability and Matt being an arsehole.
Summary: Matt's bad attitude changes his life forever.
Author's Notes: Hello! Remember us? So this is the latest from us. We do have more of this story written but we're going to put this out here for a while and see what reaction it gets. Thanks for bearing with us, I know it's been a while and I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 1-What It’s like to be me
I let out a loud and drawn out groan as the piercing sound of my alarm entered my consciousness. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been waking myself up at 5am every morning, I don’t think that my body will ever get used to it. I uncurled myself from my cover cocoon, scratching my head as my jaw stretched to its max and a yawn escaped me. I don’t even think this would be easier if I had someone to wake up with. To me that’s just having someone in your house to bitch at you about every little thing you do that they find annoying. No. Relationships are not my style. Friends are not my style. I’d rather be alone and live the way I want to live than have friends and be judged for every move that I make.
I rose from the bed, giving my balls a good scratch as I shuffled towards my high spec, don’t care about the cost bathroom, nestled in the far corner of my high spec, don’t care about the cost house. Some people call paying top dollar for everything showing off; I call it living in the lifestyle that my bank account allows.
To follow is the same old routine that I follow every morning. I stepped under the freezing cold shower, feeling my body erupt in goosebumps and shivering delightedly. I enjoy a good, cold shower. It’s refreshing for the body. I scrubbed myself quickly, admiring the way my inked skin glistened in the early morning light pouring through the window. As I stepped onto the rug I curled my toes into the soft fabric and pulled my towelling robe around me, wandering to the living room and switching on the news, not really paying attention. I don’t enjoy starting my day with death, destruction and war but I like to stay informed. A man of my position that spends at least two nights a week at functions and fundraisers should be able to talk about current events and sound as if he knows the ins and outs of everything. Of course, I bullshit most of it but; I’m good at that. I fixed myself a bowl of low fat cereal with skimmed milk. My body is my temple and I’ll keep it that way, even with no one to worship it. As I chewed slowly I looked through my papers, letting my head fill with consignments of drugs, poison requisitions and staff reports on action and reaction perception. Losing myself in my work is my favourite thing to do. To get to the top you need to eat, sleep and be the job. You need to be married to the job. People are just a distraction.
At 6 I stripped naked and starting my daily exercise, push ups, crunches and weight lifting. I liked to look tough and imposing and even under a suit, muscles helped. The best way to get people to do what you want is to scare them into it, and that is something that I was incredibly good at. And if I couldn’t scare them into it, I found dirt on them and had them fired. They can beg, plead, cry and shout as much as they like but eventually they do what I want. And if they don’t then they regret it. Once you’ve been fired by our company, you’ll never work in this town again.
After wiping myself down and applying a generous blast of body spray I dressed in my power suit; perfectly pressed black trousers, black jacket, white shirt and red tie. The perfect outfit for doing hard and fast business. The outfit that’s going to get me promoted, hopefully sooner rather than later.
I locked my apartment, pretending not to notice the scowls and sneers of the other residents as I walked confidently down the hall. Their opinion didn’t matter to me. They were just the little people. The bottom feeders of the world that no one gave a damn about. I buckled into my sleek, black Gallardo and sped off to my offices, being let in by the sour faced security guard whom I had demoted to the front gate after I caught him using a company phone to make a long distance call. He gave me some ridiculous story about calling his wife who’s in Canada with their daughter getting her treatment for cancer. Like it’s my problem. He should have opted for a job with health insurance.
As I sat behind my beautiful teak desk my assistant passed me my messages and put my coffee in front of me in silence. She despises me, but without my say so she’ll never be promoted so she deals with all of the ridiculous errands that I send her on. I sent her 30 miles to a dry cleaners on the edge of town with my suits last week simply because I was sick of the sight of her drawn, mousy face. I don’t understand women who don’t try and make themselves beautiful and then complain when they can’t get a man to fuck them. It’s just common sense.
On the request of my boss I dragged myself to the top floor to see him. He’s a fat, flatulent wanker but if I suck up to him enough I could be made a partner by the time I’m thirty. So I tolerate him slapping me on the back with his thick, meaty palm as he blows disgusting cigar smoke in my face and tells me another crass joke about pussy. I laugh and pretend like I’m interested when he tells me another long and boring story about why he doesn’t look at his wife while he fucks her anymore. And I wait. I wait for the day when all of that torture will pay off.
That day is today.
I walked into that office as Matt Sanders, Bsc, MA, head of developments at Harband Pharmaceuticals. I walked out of it, Matt Sanders, CEO of Harband Pharmaceuticals. This is what it’s like to be me. And life doesn’t get much better than this.