(no subject)

[takecourage]

It's shit, but life goes on. Alex goes through the motions -- she hands Edie over to the nanny, she goes to work, she thinks about drugs, she comes home. The work she does at the club varies; most of the time she's in the office, sometimes she's behind the bar and, sometimes, she's up on the stage or weaving in between the booths and couches. Tonight, one of her dancers hasn't turned up, so she does her makeup over the sink in her bathroom, fluffs her hair, hoists her tits into a sequined bra. She dances, her skin sheened with sweat and glitter and, whenever someone offers her a drink, she takes it.

It's after midnight when she leaves the club, t-shirt and sweats pulled on over the gear she was dancing in, feet shoved into her loosely laced boots. She doesn't want to go home -- not to the apartment at Dimera, and definitely not back to Black Elm, where her little girl lies sleeping. She's pretty limited on where she can go, honestly, her circle shrunk, but then she has an idea, and she pivots on her heel, heading in the opposite direction.

A few minutes later, having slipped in to the building as a delivery driver left, Alex finds herself leaning her forehead against his front door, knocking with her whole fist.

"C'mon, Steve," she says, through gritted teeth. "Be home, buddy."

Comments

[takecourage]

She ignores -- she isn't drunk enough to look at it too closely -- how good that completely casual, platonic touch of his hand against her bare skin feels. It's only been a week; she can't be touch starved already. With her hair securely tied up, she gently extricates her glass from his grip, though she doesn't do anything to shake off his whole hand; he can leave it there if he wants.

"Work was pretty standard," she says "I get good tips when I wear that set because my tits look awesome and it works miracles for my ass, too." She grins. "Only one guy got handsy so, yeah. Pretty good night."

[haplesshairpile]

Steve frowns at that, hand tightening almost protectively around Alex's bare knee, but he knows it's a futile emotion. Alex can take care of herself.

"Sucks you have to deal with that," he says casually. "I'm sure it comes with the territory, but still. Sorry on behalf of my dumbass species."

He takes a long swallow from his glass, buzzed enough from his earlier drinks that it doesn't even burn going down.

"But your tits always look awesome," he adds, because he's a part of that dumbass species. Still, he's pretty sure he can say that. They're friends, and Alex would probably appreciate the compliment.

[takecourage]

The way his hand tightens protectively makes Alex smile as she takes another swallow of her drink. Like a lot of people in Darrow, like pretty much everyone here and in New Haven, Steve's really got no idea of what Alex is actually capable of. That flat beast, the viper that coils around her ribs, has never gone anywhere.

"It's fine. Rather me than one of the other girls," she says. She grins at the compliment, though, because it's easier to focus on that anything else. She arches her back a little, thrusting her tits out for effect, the bars piercing her nipples clear through the thin fabric of Steve's t-shirt. "Well, thanks. But my ass is definitely better."

[haplesshairpile]

Alex sticks her chest out and Steve is honestly sort of used to it. He used to think that he was desensitized, but his eyes catch on the shadowed ridge of her nipple piercings and he thinks that he was probably just so deep into his relationship that he was blind. He doesn't have that anymore. He can't be loyal to someone who isn't here, but Steve doesn't quite know how to process the ending of it all. Maeve didn't dump him. She didn't die. She's just gone.

"Agree to disagree," Steve breathes out against the rim of his glass, knocking the rest of it back in one large swallow and then leaning forward to refill it with another round. "No disrespect to your ass, but I have my preference."

[takecourage]

Alex echoes Steve, knocking back the rest of her drink and holding out the glass for a refill because, well, fuck it, right? She relaxes back against the couch cushions and, when he moves his hand to make up the drinks, she's actually kind of disappointed. She's just touch starved since Darlington went home or back to Hell or wherever he's gone (she honestly prefers not to think about it). Whatever. Warm skin on warm skin feels good.

"Yeah," she says, her eyes on the ceiling for a moment. "I remember."

That time in Kagura was a long time ago, but it was definitely good enough to remember.

[haplesshairpile]

The comment disarms him a little, and he pauses in his movements when he thinks of them fucking in Kagura. Steve was so easy back then. But let's be real, he's always been easy. It was the monogamy that was the strange thing, and now he's realizing how long it's been since he's touched anyone else. It feels like he doesn't even remember how, and the thought of doing so now makes him feel sad enough that he takes a long swig of the alcohol before he even pours in any mixers, then starts over.

"I guess I have to remember how to be single again," he says in a low voice, raspy from alcohol, swallowing hard as he finishes the drinks and hands one out to Alex.

[takecourage]

"Guess we both do," she says, taking the drink and raising her glass in a lazy toast. "Yale was really the only time I've been single since I was fourteen and Len fucked me in the storeroom at Baskin Robins." She rolls her eyes and knocks back a long swallow. She shifts again, settling back and stretching out her legs, draping them across his thighs.

[haplesshairpile]

"Damn. I worked at an ice cream parlor for months and couldn't get one girl to let me fuck them in the storeroom," Steve laments, lifting his arms to make room when Alex puts her legs in his lap. He puts his hand on her calm, sliding it aimlessly up and down the smooth expense of it as he takes another drink. "It was probably the sailor suit."

[takecourage]

"You should have been targeting chubby fourteen year olds with shitty homelives," she says, smirking as she takes a sip of her drink. She says it, but she knows for a fact that Steve isn't an asshole, let alone the kind of asshole that Len was. He never would have taken advantage of a kid who didn't know any better. She does snort at the thought of Steve in a sailor suit, though.

"Bet you'd have made me come, too. Even in the sailor suit."