the night turns silver when you breathe...

[takecourage]

More often than not, she spends shifts in the office or behind the bar but, every so often, she gets up on stage or works the floor. Usually, it's because someone's called out, or because they're busier than anticipated. Tonight, it's the latter. Alex had rummaged through the bag that she keeps in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet in the office and come up with an outfit that worked: a black corset, underwear, stockings, heels. She'd leaned over the chipped sink in the bathroom back there and done her make-up, thick eyeliner and red lips. On impulse, she'd snapped a selfie and sent it to Darlington.

Tell me how you'll serve me 'til the end of days x

Out on the floor, she dances and sweats, flirts, accepts drinks or doesn't, depending on her mood. She's just finished a drink when she looks up and sees him walk through the door. They've arranged a sitter for Edie so that they can stay at Dimera street tonight, go out before.

She stands, and waits for him to see her.

Comments

[more_magic]

It used to be that he'd wait in the club's cramped parking lot, the car either off to save gas money or idling for the warmth of the heater; he was there, but not as present, accepting this even as he questioned the necessity of it. She'd left it behind, left it for Yale and for Lethe--and, though he hadn't thought so at the time, left it for him, in a way. Here, it's taken on a new meaning, or perhaps the same one, just easier to face.

He doesn't understand it as well as he'd like, any more than he fully comprehends the message she sends him tonight and has repeated in the past. But like that, like the idea of the end of days, it feels weighty and true even without the benefit of understanding.

Rather than wait in the car, he parks and goes towards the door, feeling the thump of the music as he makes his way towards the stage. It isn't Alex there, but he catches the dark movement at the corner of his eye and turns to see her at the bar, her sleek hair a spill over one shoulder and her mouth a slash of red. He feels the pull of her attention in his gut, in his chest, and lets himself be drawn forward.

"Good night?"

[takecourage]

"Pretty lucrative," she says, tilting her face up towards him, but not actually leaning in for a kiss -- a kiss isn't part of the rules, and they both know it. "I can clock out now if you like." She tilts her head, her red lips pursing slightly. "Or..."

[more_magic]

Despite himself, despite the rules, Darlington leans in as Alex tips her face up; that their lips come nowhere close to touching even so makes the tease of it somehow better and worse. It's perfectly judged, and as always he's struck with aggravation and pride at the way she holds him in her thrall.

She trails off, and he raises one eyebrow. "I'll remind you, we've been trying to get a reservation at this place for months," he says. "But tell me what you have in mind, Stern."

[takecourage]

"Well, it's up to you, baby," she says, the fingers of one hand skimming against the fabric of his shirt. It's a nice one, expensive -- the fabric soft and slightly shiny under the tips of her fingers. "Whether you think you've got time for a quick dance before I get changed for dinner."

[more_magic]

"When I ask for your thoughts, I do genuinely want to know," he says, giving her a pointed look at the deflection--even as he shivers, slightly, at the brush of her fingertips along his chest. "Vulgar and unfit for public consumption as they might be. But fine."

He pretends to think about it, glancing at his watch, ever so slightly playing into the arrogant impression she'd originally had of him, all privilege and polish and aggravation at the disappointment that was his Dante. They know each other better now. "I think we might have time."

[takecourage]

Her eyebrow twitches slightly when he calls her vulgar, but she also knows the game that they're playing. She loves this game.

"Hope you bought some cash," she says, hooking her fingers between the buttons his shirt, finding warm skin underneath. Using that hold, she guides him towards an open booth, her eyes fixed on his face. "I know you know the rules by now, anyway."

[more_magic]

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he lets her pull him forward--as he follows, because he'll always follow her. Maybe that's what whatever future version of himself means by 'til the end of days. He hopes he's right about that.

"I brought cash for the valet at the restaurant," he says, taking a seat on the dark leather booth. "But I suppose we can find street parking that serves us just as well. And if I didn't know the rules by now, Stern, the club would've put me on that dismayingly long list of personae non gratae you have backstage long ago."

[takecourage]

"That's true," she says, because this is far from the first time that she's danced for him like this. As he settles in the booth, a song starts -- she doesn't recognise it, but it's good, heavy and loud, dirty base. Her hips pick up the rhythm and she leans forward, catching her weight with her hands on the back of the booth.

[more_magic]

She finds the grinding beat with the same ease that always amazes him, just slightly, her body fluid as she bends towards him with hips rolling. It's hard not to be taken in, and Darlington doesn't fight it. She is beautiful like this, for all his reservations.

[takecourage]

With their reservation looming, she doesn't intend to linger but she's still got plenty of time to wind him up before dinner, especially when she so well knows how to push every button he's got. Her fingers immediately go to the fastenings of her corset, unhooking from the buttom, revealling snake heads peeking between the lace of her panties and her garter belt.

"I know you want to fuck me," she says, in the same bored, almost conversational tone that she reserves for dances like this at the club and particular moments at home. She knows how it gets under his skin.

[more_magic]

Of course this is the game they're playing--and of course, Alex knows exactly how best to play it. He sighs, one eyebrow lifting again for a moment, a silent question.

"You work here," he says, his voice dropping back with an ease that no longer surprises him to that same half-entitled drawl from before. They can both play at disinterest; they both know how it affects the other. "Making people want to fuck you is part of the job."

[takecourage]

That tone of voice, the look on his face, it sends a pulse of hot and wet right between her thighs. Smirking, she peels her corset open, discarding it on the bench next to him, She skims her fingers up over pale skin, grazing over pierced nipples under lace.

"That isn't a no, pretty boy."

[more_magic]

No matter what they pretend, what game they play or fantasy they enact, Danny can never regard her the same way as some of the club's patrons do. Her corset comes off, her body twisting into the tease of her hands and fingers, and despite the cool assurance of his expression, his eyes burn with the intense, desiring love she'll always see there. He can never hide it. He'll never want to.

"No," he says after a moment, meeting her eyes and smiling slightly. "It's not. But that's not unusual for you either, is it?"

[takecourage]

"They're not all as good looking as you," she says, and it's part tease, but it's mostly true because, God, she still can't believe her luck, sometimes. She still thinks about that first time she saw him, when he walked into her dorm room like he belonged there, and later, sitting on the floor of the lounge at il Bastone, and how she'd felt seeing his bare feet. She leans in, her tits swaying forward, keeps the movement going until his nose is almost pressed between them.

[more_magic]

"Point in my favor, then."

She's close enough that his breath blows warm across her tits when he speaks, his lips just a hair's breadth from brushing her skin through the lace--and right now, there's nowhere he'd rather be. His eyes close, almost involuntarily, heat and desire sinking through him.

[takecourage]

"Mmmm. You don't exactly sound surprised," she says, pushing her fingers into the short dark hair on the back of his head and pulling him forward , just slightly so that his lips brush against her. "Been told that before, pretty boy?"

[more_magic]

"Might've been," he admits, the words low and a little tense as she pulls him in, as his arousal thrums all the deeper, all the stronger. His fingers itch to touch her, but he knows the rules. God, he loves and hates them, in nearly equal measure. "Think it's a good idea to believe it, when it's coming from you?"

Her fingers twist in his hair then, and he groans, low and sudden.

[takecourage]

She's got thoughts about the type of girl that Danny used to fuck before she met him, the other girls who might have told him that before, but she doesn't mention that, right now. Her cunt throbbing at the sound he makes, she shifts position, sliding into his lap and grinding her hips forward against him.

"I don't know," she says. "Is it?"

[more_magic]

She's filled out in Darrow, softer curves in places where there were once sharp angles. Even so, as she slides into his lap now, there's nothing sweet or soft about it--just tease, and filth, and everything that sells. It's perfect.

"I'm willing to take the risk," he says. "Even if you're only saying it to get a bigger tip out of me." He can hear the innuendo in it, and smirks.

[takecourage]

Alex affects a pout. Her bra is a front fastener, and she slides her hands up over the slight press of her ribs against her skin to unhook it, peeling it off her tits and arching her back to show them to their best advantage.

"Just the tip?" She smirks. "You don't look like a tease, pretty boy."

[more_magic]

"Appearances can be deceiving," he says, watching her strip that extra little bit, her piercings catching the low light of their surroundings. He doesn't hide the way his eyes survey every inch and curve of her; he doesn't even have to pretend he's interested. "But this time, you're right. I try not to tease. It's never as fun as committing fully."

[takecourage]

"I bet it isn't," says Alex. She'll never ever get tired of him looking at her like that; every single time, it feels a bit like the first time. The realisation that a man like her would look at a girl like her like that. "How fully do you like to commit?" she asks, sneaking a hand between them and palming his cock through his jeans. "Like, in inches."

[more_magic]

"Fuck," he says, the profanity startled out of him by the surprise of her hand against his cock, her fingers teasing him through the denim. It's a victory every time she manages to make him swear; Danny knows, without a doubt, she'll take it as even more of one this time. It doesn't keep him from shifting into the touch.

"Oh, all the way," he says, recovering himself and the thread of the game they're still playing. "And extensively. Putting numbers on it is vulgar, but I've never had a complaint."

[takecourage]

The fact that he's wearing jeans means that there's a limit to how well she can handle him, but she keeps the pressure of her hand firm against him, gives him something to grind against for a moment before she takes it away, pushing it into his hand instead, tugging.

"What makes you think I don't like vulgar," she purrs, close to his ear.

[more_magic]

"Call it wondering if you might better yourself," he says, knowing how that phrase has and always might affect her--especially when they're doing something like this. It shouldn't still be so easy to slide into that arrogance, the untouchable, handsome boy in a good coat she'd seen when they first met, but he'll always be there. Somewhere.

Close as she is, it's easy to turn his head, the measurement she already knows--intimately--whispered low and hot between them.

[takecourage]

She knows exactly how big he is, but it still makes her laugh, sudden and breathless, when he says it.

"Dirty," she says, rolling her hips against his before she slips out of his lap, turning her back and bending from the waist, reaching back to run both hands up the back of her thighs, letting him just look for a moment.

[more_magic]

"As I said, I've never had a complaint."

She's out of his lap so smoothly it feels like an obscene form of magic, bending and teasing, letting him look but not touch--not that he could anyway, but the principle's the thing. His eyes follow the path of her hands, take in the curve of her ass. Fishing a bill out of his pocket, he leans in, tucking it beneath her garter belt.

Now that they live together, it really is just a useless move of already-shared funds, but under the fantasy it feels like anything but.

[takecourage]

Alex bites her lip as his fingers brush against her skin. She's pretty sure that he could have tipped her without touching her, but she's glad he didn't.

"You could take me somewhere," she says, straightening up, cupping her tits with both hands and squeezing. "And show me. My shift's just about over."

[more_magic]

"Convenient timing," he says, watching her fondle herself, the tease feeling--like always--less like a show and more like something real, walking that line with an almost infuriating expertise. He pretends to consider the offer. "Yeah, why not? I think we could have a good night together."

[takecourage]

"I bet we could," she says, tousling her fingers into his hair and tugging his head back so that he's looking up at her. "Stay right there, okay?"

She slinks away through the club and it's a minute or two before she comes back, dressed in street clothes. The first thing she does is lean down and kiss him, hard.

"I'm going to need you to find a wall to fuck me up against before we go to dinner," she says, her mouth close to his ear. "Okay?"

[more_magic]

With Alex out of her club gear, the rules no longer apply; he knows this, and yet when she bends to claim his mouth with hers, right in the middle of the club, it feels hopelessly, endlessly transgressive. Danny tries, and only somewhat fails, to suppress a low groan at the things she whispers in his ear.

"We're never going to make our reservation," he says, and it's the furthest thing from a complaint.

[takecourage]

Alex grins when he groans against her lips like that. She steps back, offering him her hand.

"Fuck it. We can get burgers instead," she says, grinning. "You want to go to the apartment or just do it in my office?" They've talked about that, but they've never actually done it.

[more_magic]

"Stern, if what you wanted was burgers on the couch in our sweats, you could have just said," he says as he takes her hand. Again, it's not a complaint. "We could have even kept the sitter."

Alex knows what she's doing suggesting the office, and Darlington's eyes turn towards the hallway at the back of the club. They've only talked about it, let it fuel both of their fantasies, but with the opportunity before them...it's hardly a choice at all.

"Office," he says. "You don't want to wait until we're at the apartment, and I wouldn't believe you if you did."

[takecourage]

"I'm not saying that's what I want," she says, her fingers twined through his, already leading him in the direction of her office door. "I'm saying it's what I'm willing to settle for if I get my brains fucked out on my desk, first."

Or against the wall. She honestly isn't picky.

[more_magic]

"You do know how to phrase things in your own inimitable style," says Darlington, though even the dry, half-scolding tone he uses isn't any more real now than it has been in years. They've been through too much now, become different people--whether they'd meant to or not.

[takecourage]

"You fucking love it," she says, drawing him into her small office and shutting the door behind them before she presses him back against it with tits and hips and her hands on his shoulders. He's much taller than she is, so she has to lean up to get her mouth close to his ear.

"Tell me how you want it, Danny," she breathes. There's magic words that they both know she needs to hear. If not, there's plenty of other ways to go about it, but she always likes to give him what he wants.

[more_magic]

"Need I remind you, you're the one who demanded this," he says, with as much of that infuriating, reasonable calm as he can manage. It's not much, but he tries. "I'm just here to fulfill the request."

Even with her pressed against him, bearing him with her slight weight against the flat of the door, it's as easy as it always is to turn them, his movements fluid. In no time, he has Alex's back against the door, his hands snug on her ass as he hoists her up. "Something like this should suit nicely, won't it?"

[takecourage]

"Aren't you always?" she says, making a soft, surprised sound when he hoists her like that. She wraps both legs around his waist, tousling her fingers in his hair. She loves it when he's down on his knees, when he's serving, but she loves this, too. She loves how strong he is, and how safe she always feels, despite it.

"Yeah," she says. "This'll do."

[more_magic]

"Glad it meets with your exacting specifications," he says, breath shivering lightly at the run of her fingers in his hair. He's hard against her in a way that should embarrass him, and does, and had so many years before--but it's all part of this. It's always part of it.

He doesn't let her get another retort in, just kisses her, deep and hot and hungry.

[takecourage]

God, it's so much. His mouth. His cock. She rocks between him and the door, grinding forward against his cock. When the kiss breaks, she's breathless, leaning her forehead against his. "At least one of us needs to be wearing less fucking clothes."

[more_magic]

"Fewer clothes," he corrects, pedantic even now, knowing how it'll hit. He can be the insufferable, elitist asshole she'd assumed he was back home, the smart boy in a good coat always weighing and measuring and finding her a disappointment. It's not true--or not completely--but it works.

Reaching between them, he thumbs open her jeans, fingers working firmly, pressing and teasing her cunt through the fabric.

[takecourage]

He knows exactly the effect that that tone of voice, that casual correction, will have on her; her cunt throbs and she all but growls, one hand coming up to cup his jaw. He handles her expertly, unbutton her jeans, fondling her cunt and, held like she is, there's not much that Alex can do but squirm.

"Fuck," she breathes, leaning in for another kiss. "Darlington. Danny."

[more_magic]

"I know," he says, a groan beneath the words at the heat of her against his fingers, at her fingers hard-pressed along his jaw. He keeps teasing her, letting her squirm, the movement of her body half-informing the slide and rub of his touch. "I'll give you what you need. You know I will."

[takecourage]

"I know," says Alex because she does know that, has known it since that first night up at Kagura. "Just...get my jeans all the way off and fucking do it. Please?"

[more_magic]

Shamefully, he gets even harder at the way she says please; if there's anything she knows how to do well, it's weaponize her occasional forays into politeness. He groans again, low and shivering, working her jeans further down, then off, fumbling at the front of his own.

[takecourage]

He has to put Alex down, long enough for her to kick off her sneakers and jeans, but almost immediately she's back in his arms, hoisting herself up to kiss him hungrily.

"Now fuck me like you mean it, Darlington," she says.

[more_magic]

"Have I ever not meant it?" he counters, the words rough as he sinks into her, finds her slick and hot and perfect--and his, as much as he is hers. They belong together; meant for each other, for this moment, and all the others still to come. Keeping her pinned against the door, he finds a hard, perfect rhythm, his mouth hot on hers.

[takecourage]

"Not once," she says, and then anything else she would have said gets lost because he's inside her, long and hard and perfect, her back bouncing against the door as he fucks her. His mouth against hers, the pulse of the music in the club behind them, means she doesn't have to be quiet. She groans, loudly, squirming down onto his cock.