(no subject)
Title: The Reegenboog, Chapter 2
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I DONT OWN ANYTHING!
We had to take three flights of stairs to the club’s main level. They were cherry wood, and they didn’t have risers. Truth be told, they kind of freaked me out. I’ve watched too many movies in which someone puts their hand through the space between steps to trip people. I just kept my mouth shut, though. I didn’t want Logan to think I was a pansy. And quite frankly, I didn’t want him to treat me like the girl of the relationship, thus it was best not to get off on the wrong foot on this. Besides, I was already the acting male in this “relationship”, as I had already proved by making the first move.
“Are you alright, dear?” He snapped me out of it with his caring voice, already acting just in case anyone could hear us.
“Yeah, I’m just thinking.” Great. If anyone did hear, I probably looked like the girly one.
When we got to the top, there was a large room to behold. It was warm in color, rich in atmosphere, but sparse in patrons.
“What gives with the liveliness, or lack thereof?” I asked, forgetting the act out of pure curiosity.
“Well, the night is young, and most everyone waits till at least an hour later to come. Don’t worry though. I see Mr. Raymer over there.” He indicated a sitting area in the corner with large, brown leather seats. A solitary, ugly, plump, balding man sat facing the entrance, staring at us intently. I think he might have been checking me out. Either that, or sizing me up. “Let’s go say hello, shall we?” I took his hand, once again acting the part.
We strolled lazily over to the circular grouping of seats, and to the creepy man named Raymer.
“Good evening, Mr. Raymer.” He shook the man’s hand, while lacking the strength he usually gave. I assumed it was to allow me the comfort of acting like a man. “I’d like you to meet my partner, Alec.”
He took my hand in his, and I gave the firm, expected squeeze as I shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alec.”
“And you as well, Mr. Raymer.”
“I’ve heard good things.” He finally gave a more convincing smile as he indicated the chairs to his left. “Please, have a seat.”
Logan sat directly beside him, and I sat beside Logan. I didn’t trust the man. I know I wasn’t supposed to, but there was something else about him. There was more than just his association with the Mafia that made him bad news. I placed a hand on Logan’s knee, both out of my own discomfort with the situation, and the act.
Another man in a tux came to take our drink orders, and we spoke with Raymer, giving him the chance to get to know “me”.
“So, Alec,” He began, “What is it that you do for a living?”
“Well, I am actually a student at the moment, studying to be an accountant.” I stuck with the bio page that Logan made for me. We made sure to back everything I say with falsified documents, just in case he or one of his goons went digging.
“Ah, so I take it he’s a bright one.” He directed this to Logan, who politely responded.
“Well, I’ve always thought so. He’s a bit modest.” Bullshit. He may have let me wear the pants, so to speak, but he wasn’t going to make this easy for me.
“Are you now, Mr…I never caught your last name. What was it?” Yep, he was definitely going to go digging later.
“Benson, that’s my last name.” I find it kind of ironic that my last name contains ‘Ben”. It doesn’t help that my last name was Max’s idea. In fact, it kind of hurt. I know I look like him, but I’m not. Yet, she always has subtle ways of reminding me of that.
“Well, Mr. Benson, I think modesty is a fine quality. Don’t let your lover tell you any different.”
“No, Mr. Raymer.” I felt Logan slipping his fingers between mine, which I thought was overkill, but, hey…he was doing his best. I let him hold my hand.
“Alec,” He smiled at me and it really creped me out. It seemed a bit too genuine for my liking. “Do you remember how I was telling you that I had another friend here?” By this time, I was aware that there was someone standing beside me.
“Yeah.”
“Well, this,” He gestured to the man standing by me, “is Ralfie Franco.” I turned around, and politely took his hand in mine, neglecting to stand.
“Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Alec.” He gave a sideways smirk, which would have looked strange on anyone else’s face. He was short, but well built, with a handsome face (though not as great as mine), and muddy brown eyes. He, too, looked me over, but I decided that he was indeed sizing me up. With his little “crush” on Logan, it was likely that he wanted to see if I was really in love with my boyfriend. Funny, as the night goes on, that concept seems less and less strange.
He took a seat without being invited by Raymer, and snapped to get the waiter’s attention as he was busy bringing back our drinks.
“Yes, Mr. Franco.”
“I’ll have my usual, skip the lime.” I could tell that his accent was likely from New Jersey. It wasn’t unlikely, as a lot of the Mafia spread out to other major cities after the pulse.
“Very well, sir.” He moved to Ramer’s side.
“Your vodka, sir.”
“Thank you, Henry.” Raymer took a large gulp of his oversized beverage, and made a face to match the likely burning in his throat. Butler-man moved over to Logan.
“Your Cabernet, sir.” Logan gave an appreciative nod and smile before swirling and sipping his wine. I could tell by his face that it was a good bottle he was served from. He moved over to me.
“Your beer, sir.” Logan gave me the same annoyed look as he did when I ordered as Henry gave me the mug.
“Thank you.” I really smiled this time. I guess I looked a bit out of place, but I was really not accustomed to such company. How was I supposed to know that a beer was too low brow for this place? Well, judging by Raymer’s appreciative smile, he liked the fact that I was so simple in my tastes.
“So, Alec, how did the two of you meet?” Oh gosh. Did Logan already answer this question? I could tell by the look of concern on his face that he did. Well, I guess I’ll just have to guess.
“We met at a rally.” It was vague, but I remember that my bio sheet said that I went to quite a few of these. Thankfully, Franco looked pleased with my answer, and Logan looked relieved. I must have guessed right.
“Which one?” Damn. He’s fishing. He suspects me.
“I don’t remember, actually. I tend to forget which is which.” Logan’s grip on my hand was tightening. Then, I felt him tapping on my palm. It was morse code.
{San/Fransisco/July}
“OH! I remember, wasn’t it in San Francisco?” I turned to Logan for this one.
“Yeah, it was.”
“When?” Franco was practically interrogating me.
“Ralfie!” Raymer snapped, obviously displeased, “Leave the poor man alone. Let him drink his beer.”
Both of the target men were visibly unhappy, and therefore, I knew this evening would be hell.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I DONT OWN ANYTHING!
We had to take three flights of stairs to the club’s main level. They were cherry wood, and they didn’t have risers. Truth be told, they kind of freaked me out. I’ve watched too many movies in which someone puts their hand through the space between steps to trip people. I just kept my mouth shut, though. I didn’t want Logan to think I was a pansy. And quite frankly, I didn’t want him to treat me like the girl of the relationship, thus it was best not to get off on the wrong foot on this. Besides, I was already the acting male in this “relationship”, as I had already proved by making the first move.
“Are you alright, dear?” He snapped me out of it with his caring voice, already acting just in case anyone could hear us.
“Yeah, I’m just thinking.” Great. If anyone did hear, I probably looked like the girly one.
When we got to the top, there was a large room to behold. It was warm in color, rich in atmosphere, but sparse in patrons.
“What gives with the liveliness, or lack thereof?” I asked, forgetting the act out of pure curiosity.
“Well, the night is young, and most everyone waits till at least an hour later to come. Don’t worry though. I see Mr. Raymer over there.” He indicated a sitting area in the corner with large, brown leather seats. A solitary, ugly, plump, balding man sat facing the entrance, staring at us intently. I think he might have been checking me out. Either that, or sizing me up. “Let’s go say hello, shall we?” I took his hand, once again acting the part.
We strolled lazily over to the circular grouping of seats, and to the creepy man named Raymer.
“Good evening, Mr. Raymer.” He shook the man’s hand, while lacking the strength he usually gave. I assumed it was to allow me the comfort of acting like a man. “I’d like you to meet my partner, Alec.”
He took my hand in his, and I gave the firm, expected squeeze as I shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alec.”
“And you as well, Mr. Raymer.”
“I’ve heard good things.” He finally gave a more convincing smile as he indicated the chairs to his left. “Please, have a seat.”
Logan sat directly beside him, and I sat beside Logan. I didn’t trust the man. I know I wasn’t supposed to, but there was something else about him. There was more than just his association with the Mafia that made him bad news. I placed a hand on Logan’s knee, both out of my own discomfort with the situation, and the act.
Another man in a tux came to take our drink orders, and we spoke with Raymer, giving him the chance to get to know “me”.
“So, Alec,” He began, “What is it that you do for a living?”
“Well, I am actually a student at the moment, studying to be an accountant.” I stuck with the bio page that Logan made for me. We made sure to back everything I say with falsified documents, just in case he or one of his goons went digging.
“Ah, so I take it he’s a bright one.” He directed this to Logan, who politely responded.
“Well, I’ve always thought so. He’s a bit modest.” Bullshit. He may have let me wear the pants, so to speak, but he wasn’t going to make this easy for me.
“Are you now, Mr…I never caught your last name. What was it?” Yep, he was definitely going to go digging later.
“Benson, that’s my last name.” I find it kind of ironic that my last name contains ‘Ben”. It doesn’t help that my last name was Max’s idea. In fact, it kind of hurt. I know I look like him, but I’m not. Yet, she always has subtle ways of reminding me of that.
“Well, Mr. Benson, I think modesty is a fine quality. Don’t let your lover tell you any different.”
“No, Mr. Raymer.” I felt Logan slipping his fingers between mine, which I thought was overkill, but, hey…he was doing his best. I let him hold my hand.
“Alec,” He smiled at me and it really creped me out. It seemed a bit too genuine for my liking. “Do you remember how I was telling you that I had another friend here?” By this time, I was aware that there was someone standing beside me.
“Yeah.”
“Well, this,” He gestured to the man standing by me, “is Ralfie Franco.” I turned around, and politely took his hand in mine, neglecting to stand.
“Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Alec.” He gave a sideways smirk, which would have looked strange on anyone else’s face. He was short, but well built, with a handsome face (though not as great as mine), and muddy brown eyes. He, too, looked me over, but I decided that he was indeed sizing me up. With his little “crush” on Logan, it was likely that he wanted to see if I was really in love with my boyfriend. Funny, as the night goes on, that concept seems less and less strange.
He took a seat without being invited by Raymer, and snapped to get the waiter’s attention as he was busy bringing back our drinks.
“Yes, Mr. Franco.”
“I’ll have my usual, skip the lime.” I could tell that his accent was likely from New Jersey. It wasn’t unlikely, as a lot of the Mafia spread out to other major cities after the pulse.
“Very well, sir.” He moved to Ramer’s side.
“Your vodka, sir.”
“Thank you, Henry.” Raymer took a large gulp of his oversized beverage, and made a face to match the likely burning in his throat. Butler-man moved over to Logan.
“Your Cabernet, sir.” Logan gave an appreciative nod and smile before swirling and sipping his wine. I could tell by his face that it was a good bottle he was served from. He moved over to me.
“Your beer, sir.” Logan gave me the same annoyed look as he did when I ordered as Henry gave me the mug.
“Thank you.” I really smiled this time. I guess I looked a bit out of place, but I was really not accustomed to such company. How was I supposed to know that a beer was too low brow for this place? Well, judging by Raymer’s appreciative smile, he liked the fact that I was so simple in my tastes.
“So, Alec, how did the two of you meet?” Oh gosh. Did Logan already answer this question? I could tell by the look of concern on his face that he did. Well, I guess I’ll just have to guess.
“We met at a rally.” It was vague, but I remember that my bio sheet said that I went to quite a few of these. Thankfully, Franco looked pleased with my answer, and Logan looked relieved. I must have guessed right.
“Which one?” Damn. He’s fishing. He suspects me.
“I don’t remember, actually. I tend to forget which is which.” Logan’s grip on my hand was tightening. Then, I felt him tapping on my palm. It was morse code.
{San/Fransisco/July}
“OH! I remember, wasn’t it in San Francisco?” I turned to Logan for this one.
“Yeah, it was.”
“When?” Franco was practically interrogating me.
“Ralfie!” Raymer snapped, obviously displeased, “Leave the poor man alone. Let him drink his beer.”
Both of the target men were visibly unhappy, and therefore, I knew this evening would be hell.