Resistance is Futile

Chapter 7

Was he coming on too hard? If he pushed Val enough, what would his partner do? Judging by the twitch in the other man's hand, and his immediately averted gaze, pushing was doing something. Val breathed and he watched the rise and fall of his date's chest with intrigue. Was Val breathing differently? The Moth nodded and smiled. "Of course he isn't, baby. Nobody looks as good as me." It was a wash since Val didn't break, but watching the man run a hand over his chest and down his stomach had Vox reminding himself that public indecency wasn't his thing. He was just thankful that his partner seemed to be coming back to himself. They continued talking about business for a bit longer before they both got sick of the restaurant. Moving to the car and talking there about business didn't do it for them either, so he had his driver take them to the first club. It would open soon, but right now it was completely empty and would work as a good space to visualize what they were actually talking about.

Val had kept his coat tight around him on the trip here, but now it was getting almost too hot to wear. He knew it was probably the wine fucking with him, but it didn't much matter at this point. They'd had so much of it that the alcohol could basically do what it wanted. Walking into the club, Vox closed and locked the door behind them. Val took a chance to look around the space and marveled at it. It was large, dimly lit everywhere except where it mattered. There was back lighting for the bar that was a soft pink, track lighting along to floor marking walk ways, and the stage itself was pristine. Without waiting for Vox, he move through the space, running his fingers over every other surface lightly. Coming to the stage, he stepped up onto the glittering black surface and looked out into the space beyond it. He remembered this feeling, not from Hell, but from when he was alive.

Vox locked the door behind them and turned to see Val walking around the club. Inspecting the club before it opened had to be done anyways, and this gave them enough time to make sure everything was ready and no last minute changes needed to be made. He watched the man as he went from table to table, ran a finger along the bar top slowly, and then stepped up onto the stage. That's where Val froze, staring out at what would be the crowd later, but tonight he was the only audience member.

The lower set of Val's hands flattened and slid from his hips down his thighs, and the man began to rock slowly back and forth. The movement was a flutter to and fro that demanded Vox's gaze. Val's top hands started moving now too; one laying against his stomach while the other slid up his chest and over his neck. The moment he hit his chin, he rolled his head back, around and then down. Once his head came back to the center, chin down, all four arms, snapped out to his sides, out stretched, wrists rolling while he seemed to toy with a smoke that wasn't there. One leg circled from one side of his body to the other, opening the coat and drawing attention as he slowly shifted his weight to step forward. The second repeated the action, but now his hands were grabbing the edges of the coat. Inch by inch, the Moth opened the fabric to show a bit more, starting from the bottom and working his way up. Vox slid into the nearest chair and reminded himself to breathe. Once the coat was opened all the way, Val turned on a heel until his back was to Vox. He then started to let the fabric fall from his shoulders while he circled his hips; the gyration moving up his body until every part of him was moving, but it was all cohesive. The moment the jacket hit the floor, Vox admitted to himself that this was his destruction. Again, Val brought his hands in to touch himself; the top hands easing up his neck and rounding behind his head as he rolled it again. He leaned to the right and turned his body so his left hand could be seen as it eased down his stomach and between his legs. He dipped his body towards the ground and circled his hips again before completely turning in Vox's direction. Glasses discarded, hat off, no coat, this Val was a dream under the soft rose colored lights.

Down on all fours, Val moved up the stage toward the tables, dipping his body to slide against the ground with every movement. When he reached the end of the stage, he reached a hand out to Vox and slowly curled his fingers in for a "come here" movement. Who was Vox to say no? Standing back up, he moved to stand in front of the stage. Val rolled over to his back and sat his legs up, planting his feet firmly on the ground. Parting his knees, Vox looked over the other man now. The mini skirt had been pushed up to Val's hips, revealing the thin black thong that was the only thing keeping him from seeing everything. Val's silky creme blouse was mussed now; the top buttons had been undone and it hung open to show off a black corset that Vox hadn't noticed Val wearing before. It was definitely out of the ordinary for Val, but then again so was the entire outfit. It was lacey, and even in the dim lighting he could tell the lace had a floral pattern that wrapped around the curves of the wearer. Vox wanted to touch it, to feel the lace and see if it was as soft as it looked; as soft as Val's skin. He didn't get the chance though as Val sat up and rolled on his hips to a split before sliding back onto all fours. He watched the Moth push off the ground and stand, then back to the rocking. One step, then another back towards the pole at the back. Reaching the steel equipment, he slid a finger up the surface before grabbing it and leaning back. He slid from one side to the other quickly, and turned under his own arm to press his back to the steel. Val slid his body down, then back up, and reached his leg back, hooking himself on the poll. In a moment, he was lifting his feet off the ground and rounding the steel. He released the metal with his leg, but he didn't touch the ground, simply shifted using his hands and flipped himself upside down. Vox held his breath as Val wrapped his leg around the poll and let go, leaning his body back at an angle so the poll rested against his hip. He stretched his arms down toward the floor and spun slowly around, dragging a finger along the ground by the poll. Once he came back he pulled his body up and extended the other leg out to straighten everything but the leg holding him on the poll. Sliding his arms down to shift, he let go of the poll with his leg and held on with only two arms. Pushing his body away from the poll, he straighten both legs above his head on either side for a few breaths. Bringing them back up, he gripped the poll between his calves and once again let go, facing outward.

Vox followed Val's hands as they moved over his body; down his chest and stomach, up his sides, and up to slide a finger over his lips. He dropped his arms again and slowly slid down the poll until his hand reached the ground, where he proceeded to walk himself away from the poll on all fours. Dipping against the ground as he moved until he reached Vox again and ran a finger up his chest to his chin. The smile that curved those lips and revealed the sharpened fangs was more than teasing enough. Vox leaned forward until they were mere inches apart and breathed in that scent he was so addicted to.

The lights flickered around them and had both of them jumping and looking around. When they clicked off, Vox immediately started searching himself to make sure he hadn't pushed out static in his excitement. Running his diagnostic quickly, he almost growled at Valentino's retreat. The moth sat up and started fixing himself; pulling his skirt down, buttoning his shirt, and then moving to pick up his glasses, hat, and his coat. The diagnostic ended with confirmation that nothing he'd done could have caused the short. He watched Val pull on his coat and seal it, and he suddenly hated that God damned coat more than he thought physically possible. He wanted to set the fabric ablaze. There was a knock on the door to the club and he turned slowly. He was so angry at the situation now that he didn't notice when he zapped to the other side of of the room and unlocked the door.

"Sir, are you alright? We saw the lights go out." His driver pointed to the neon signs that surrounded the club and were connected to its main power source. He sighed and wiped his hand across his screen.

"We're fine. It's just a short. We'll check it tomorrow, so don't worry." He glanced back at Val, who was now standing behind him like nothing had happened. "We're going home now." He pushed past his driver and he heard the heels clicking behind him that told him Val was on his heels. Opening the door, he waved Val in first, and the Moth didn't argue, but slid into the back seat and leaned himself up against a window. Vox followed suit and closed the door and they were off to go back home.

"Let's not talk about that, okay?" Val's low and slow, sultry voice pulled his attention to his partner practically curled up in the corner. "I just wanted to test it out to make sure it was sturdy." The excuse came out and Vox wanted to argue more than anything, but he couldn't.

"One of these days, you'll tell me what's wrong." He looked out his own window, but the scoff from behind him was clear.

"One of these days you might just give me a reason to. Until then, nothing's wrong." Casually avoiding it was going to become a Val thing, he was sure of it.

"I didn't know you danced too." He wanted to change the subject, but he was not going to get that out of his head for a long time, that much was a fact. "Do your dancers learn their routines directly from you then?" Was this attempt at lightening the mood working? He couldn't tell. A light hearted laugh from across the seat said it might be.

"Oh Sparky," Vox looked back at Val feeling like he should be insulted. Seeing his partner stretching out and showing a little leg again had his pulse rising, though. "The best pimps are whores. You learn how to efficiently control someone by walking in their heels for a little while." Val ran a finger down his leg and sat back on the seat with what had almost looked like a pained expression.

"I'll get the electrical fixed in time for opening. When do you want to meet again?" Val glanced at him and then out the window.

"Does it matter when I want to meet? You'll apparently drag me out either way." Vox leaned his back against the door and stretched himself out on the seat, pushing against Val's leg gently.

"I'll only drag you out if I feel you need it. Or if you tell me you need it, I promise." Val frowned at him with a squint. "I'll come when you call, how about that? It doesn't even have to be about work. We can grab food again if you're hungry, or you can just bitch about everything." Damnit, he was doing it again. Taking it away from the light hearted and pushing it into that territory where it shouldn't be. A smile crossed over Val lips and he crawled onto the seat, coming over Vox and pressing his forehead against Vox's casing.

"I know what you're doing, but remember that this thing between us is just business." The door opened behind Val and he slid back and out of the car. Vox scrambled across the seat and watched Val walk up to the studio doors. When his Moth turned to look back, he raised his hand and signaled to Vox. They'd meet again in three days at the studio at 6 pm. Val disappeared into the building and Vox sat back on the seat with a flop. After a few minutes, the lights in Val's apartment flicked on and they drove away.