[Fic] Who Shall Lead
Jun. 28th, 2012 04:11 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ukefied.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
jam_pony_ficFandom: Dark Angel
Disclaimer: Do not look into laser with remaining eye. Also, the show and characters aren’t mine.
Word Count: 1,824
Rating/Warnings: PG-15
Character/Pairings: Alec/Max/Logan
Prompt: Case, Romance, Logan/Alec/Max – An undercover op requires Max and Alec to enter a ballroom competition except that neither of them can dance. Logan can and has to teach them. Post virus.
Notes: It’s still romantic, but while they were dancing they decided to get a little sexy on me. /o\ I hope you still like it…! For the Summerfest~
“Who Shall Lead”
by Mina Lightstar
When Max is finished explaining, Logan can’t stop his lips from curling into a smile. “And you came to me.”
She shrugs one shoulder, trying to look bored. “We figured you would know something about ballroom dancing.”
Next to her, Alec is staring pointedly at the floor. “It seemed like the kind of thing you’d be into.”
“Very funny,” Logan says, and pushes himself up from the couch. “Why did you need to enter a ballroom dancing competition, anyway?” He eyes them suspiciously over the rim of his glasses. “Are you stealing something to fence?”
“Maybe,” Alec hedges.
“Maybe,” Max echoes. When Logan continues to stare at them, she huffs, “Yes, we’re stealing a statue. But it’s to fence for a lot of money for supplies. Tryptophan and medical equipment don’t grow on trees.”
Logan raises his hands in surrender. “All right, you’ve got a point. I only wanted to know why there wasn’t an easier way for you two to make the cash.”
Alec snorts. “This Anubis statue was on the most wanted list. I dunno why — it’s ugly if you ask me — but you have to supply what’s in demand, right?”
“It’s for a good cause,” Max adds, folding her arms. “For all the transgenics who are in hiding and can’t pass in order to get treatment. I’m sure the Goldsteins have a helluva lot more where Anubis came from.”
Logan heads to the kitchen to make some coffee. “So, the easiest way in is to enter their highly proclaimed competition?”
“Much easier than breaking-and-entering,” Max says. “Once we’re in, all we have to do is break out.”
“It’s also more fun than breaking in,” Alec puts in. “You don’t have to be careful.”
The coffeemaker hisses and bubbles. Logan fishes out three mugs from the cupboard. “And when is this competition?”
“Tomorrow night,” Max says simply.
Logan nearly drops one of the cups. “Tomorrow?” He looks at her with wide eyes. “How are you going to learn basic ballroom dancing by tomorrow?” When neither of them answer him, Logan shakes his head, watching the coffee drip into the pot. “All right, how many dances do you have to know?”
This brings Max up short. Obviously it hadn’t occurred to her. “Uh … like, two or three, I guess?”
“You guess.” Logan hides his smile by giving the coffeemaker his full attention. “Okay, tell you what: you two get the clothes you’ll be wearing to the competition and come back here. We’ll practice in my living room.”
“Why can’t we just practice like this?” Alec asks, gesturing to his jeans and form-fitting t-shirt.
“Because,” Logan explains, “you need to learn how to dance while looking the part, if you don’t want the aristocrats wondering if you really belong there. I’d love to start teaching you wearing regular clothes first, but apparently you two like to join last-minute clubs.”
The X5s shrug, not looking particularly apologetic or contrite. “Coffee will keep?” Max asks with a little grin.
Logan nods and waves them off. Max and Alec disappear.
***
Not two hours later, Alec and Max are back in Logan’s living room. They’re dressed to the nines but look decidedly uncomfortable in their suit and ankle-length dress. Max looks absolutely stunning, having pulled her hair back into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her dress is metallic blue, and the full skirt is slashed through with cream; Logan wonders if she chose it specifically for how it will look as she twirls. Alec’s suit is a simple tailored cut, but his dress shirt is the same blue as Max’s dress.
“You two look great,” Logan says sincerely. He hands them their coffee, and the three of them spend an awkward minute or two sipping. Logan can’t take his eyes off Max. He’s not sure what’s more of a turn-on: the fact that she’s jaw-droppingly gorgeous, or the fact that she can break legs while looking that good.
“So,” Alec pipes up. “Can we get started?”
“Right.” While they were gone, Logan had moved his furniture around so the living room looks like a makeshift ballroom. While Max brings their half-full mugs back to the kitchen, Logan hits the lights and the music. With the apartment now only softly illuminated, quiet piano music starts playing. “Are you two ready?” Logan asks once Max returns.
“Let’s do it,” she says.
In retrospect, Logan should have known that it wouldn’t take two highly-trained infiltration soldiers long to learn the basic foxtrot or waltz. Logan demonstrates the different steps with Max, then hovers close by while Alec tries repeating the move. He isn’t jealous of the way Alec’s hands settle over Max’s hip, isn’t jealous when Max presses close and wilts willingly into the other X5’s grip. He certainly isn’t jealous when Max presses one perfectly manicured hand against Alec’s chest.
No matter what Max tells him, Logan is near-convinced that she and Alec had something while she was infected with the virus. He doesn’t think that she’s lying to him per se, just that maybe she wasn’t being completely honest with the degree of emotional attraction she felt toward Alec. Logan can see how they would hook up: less than an hour after he showed them basic moves they are gliding across the living room like they belong together.
Logan suddenly realizes that Max is staring at him around Alec’s shoulder. There must be something in his expression, because her eyes soften and she moves her lips to Alec’s ear and whispers. Logan swears her mouth brushed Alec’s earlobe on purpose. He doesn’t have time to feel annoyed or betrayed, though; they’re in front of him a moment later, all twinkling eyes and mischievous smirks.
“I think we’ve got it,” Max tells him. “Why don’t you test us?”
“I’ll lead,” Alec says before Logan can answer, grabbing his hand and tugging him onto their pseudo-dance floor.
Logan stumbles for a step or two before regaining his balance and his bearings. “Hey—”
The song changes over to a waltz. Alec rests his hand on Logan’s hip and Logan finds himself adjusting accordingly. He feels painfully conspicuous in his own apartment, dressed like a delinquent while two of his friends look incredible.
“Relax a bit,” Alec murmurs, and Logan realizes he’s stiff as a board. He takes a deep breath and follows the music, getting lost in the steady one-two-three, one-two-three of the waltz. Max is standing by the window, watching them with intently. Logan’s fairly certain her smoldering gaze has nothing to do with her smoky eye makeup. When they turn, Logan twists his neck to look over his shoulder at her — partly because he loves that look and partly because Alec’s hand is a hot weight on his waist and it’s a little awkward.
Logan’s head snaps back to Alec when the X5’s hand drifts lower, low on the back of his hip. Behind him, he can hear Max’s sharp intake of breath. He’s about to chide Alec for deliberately baiting them when Max appears.
“Mind if I cut in?” she purrs, sliding between them and forcing Alec to back off.
They’re up to something, Logan can tell. He’s finding it hard to care, though, with Max lithe and gorgeous in his arms. His hands float to her hips, but she corrects him, lacing their fingers together and putting her other hand on his waist.
“I’m leading,” she tells him.
“Okay,” Logan manages.
They finish the waltz and switch gears for the next foxtrot. Max dances closer than is proper and her fingers creep up Logan’s shirt. After suffering so long with the virus between them, just this slight touch is electrifying. Logan shivers under her fingernails, barely noticing that she’s gliding them across the room until they’re almost on top of Alec.
Alec’s leaning against the wall, one hand twisting his tie around his fist. His eyes are like green fire, following their every move. His tongue snakes out to lick the corner of his mouth; Logan wonders if he even notices.
Max moves like smooth lightning, twirling aside and then gripping Logan’s hips with strong hands. Before he can ask, she’s pushing him into Alec, who is stunned but opens his arms to accommodate. Logan puts his arms on Alec’s shoulders to avoid smashing their faces together, but Max is still shoving, insistent.
“Max—” Logan starts.
“Kiss him,” she whispers, tightening her hold on his waist.
Alec’s hands ghost over Max’s, settling on Logan’s back. He doesn’t make a move, but Logan can see him swallow — can feel him tremble. Logan’s hands clench into fists, bunching up Alec’s fine Italian jacket. Max pushes him again, pressing him so hard against Alec that Logan can feel warm exhales whisper over his cheek.
“Kiss him,” Max orders again, her voice breathy and tortured.
The sound of her coming undone at his back makes Logan want to do whatever she wants. He turns his head, finds Alec’s lips soft and pliant and kisses him hard. He tastes like strong coffee and Logan licks it up. Alec makes a small noise in the back of his throat and squirms under Logan’s hands. Logan unbuttons the jacket and pushes it off Alec’s shoulders, running his hands over cool Italian silk. Now Alec’s arms are pinned to his side by the jacket, Max’s hands are wandering over whatever of Logan’s they can reach — very distracting.
“Don’t stop.” The command is soft but firm. Logan smiles against Alec’s mouth; it just figures that Max would be a deliberate, toppy voyeur.
He’s eager to please her. Logan finds himself undoing Alec’s tie and working a few of his buttons open. When Logan splays one hand over Alec’s collarbone, the X5 struggles, but can’t move much without ruining his suit. He pushes his erection into Alec’s hip, feels the answering hardness pressed against him. Behind him, Max is breathing heavily.
Logan may be trapped between them, but he’s obviously not powerless here. He releases Alec’s mouth to work his way down the other man’s neck. Max growls when Alec’s head lolls, and suddenly Logan finds himself spun around and shoved against Alec’s chest — finds his mouth full of Max.
“Logan,” she whispers against his lips. “Logan.”
He puts his arms around her, even as she reaches around him for Alec.
***
Logan’s bed is a little crowded for three. He’s in the middle, propped up on the majority of the pillows. On his left, Alec is sleeping on his stomach, facing away from them but pillowed on Logan’s arm. Curled into his other side is Max. She smiles up at him, mascara a little smudged, before settling down for a catnap of her own.
Logan wakes up with two numb arms, but it’s worth it.
~end
Disclaimer: Do not look into laser with remaining eye. Also, the show and characters aren’t mine.
Word Count: 1,824
Rating/Warnings: PG-15
Character/Pairings: Alec/Max/Logan
Prompt: Case, Romance, Logan/Alec/Max – An undercover op requires Max and Alec to enter a ballroom competition except that neither of them can dance. Logan can and has to teach them. Post virus.
Notes: It’s still romantic, but while they were dancing they decided to get a little sexy on me. /o\ I hope you still like it…! For the Summerfest~
“Who Shall Lead”
by Mina Lightstar
When Max is finished explaining, Logan can’t stop his lips from curling into a smile. “And you came to me.”
She shrugs one shoulder, trying to look bored. “We figured you would know something about ballroom dancing.”
Next to her, Alec is staring pointedly at the floor. “It seemed like the kind of thing you’d be into.”
“Very funny,” Logan says, and pushes himself up from the couch. “Why did you need to enter a ballroom dancing competition, anyway?” He eyes them suspiciously over the rim of his glasses. “Are you stealing something to fence?”
“Maybe,” Alec hedges.
“Maybe,” Max echoes. When Logan continues to stare at them, she huffs, “Yes, we’re stealing a statue. But it’s to fence for a lot of money for supplies. Tryptophan and medical equipment don’t grow on trees.”
Logan raises his hands in surrender. “All right, you’ve got a point. I only wanted to know why there wasn’t an easier way for you two to make the cash.”
Alec snorts. “This Anubis statue was on the most wanted list. I dunno why — it’s ugly if you ask me — but you have to supply what’s in demand, right?”
“It’s for a good cause,” Max adds, folding her arms. “For all the transgenics who are in hiding and can’t pass in order to get treatment. I’m sure the Goldsteins have a helluva lot more where Anubis came from.”
Logan heads to the kitchen to make some coffee. “So, the easiest way in is to enter their highly proclaimed competition?”
“Much easier than breaking-and-entering,” Max says. “Once we’re in, all we have to do is break out.”
“It’s also more fun than breaking in,” Alec puts in. “You don’t have to be careful.”
The coffeemaker hisses and bubbles. Logan fishes out three mugs from the cupboard. “And when is this competition?”
“Tomorrow night,” Max says simply.
Logan nearly drops one of the cups. “Tomorrow?” He looks at her with wide eyes. “How are you going to learn basic ballroom dancing by tomorrow?” When neither of them answer him, Logan shakes his head, watching the coffee drip into the pot. “All right, how many dances do you have to know?”
This brings Max up short. Obviously it hadn’t occurred to her. “Uh … like, two or three, I guess?”
“You guess.” Logan hides his smile by giving the coffeemaker his full attention. “Okay, tell you what: you two get the clothes you’ll be wearing to the competition and come back here. We’ll practice in my living room.”
“Why can’t we just practice like this?” Alec asks, gesturing to his jeans and form-fitting t-shirt.
“Because,” Logan explains, “you need to learn how to dance while looking the part, if you don’t want the aristocrats wondering if you really belong there. I’d love to start teaching you wearing regular clothes first, but apparently you two like to join last-minute clubs.”
The X5s shrug, not looking particularly apologetic or contrite. “Coffee will keep?” Max asks with a little grin.
Logan nods and waves them off. Max and Alec disappear.
Not two hours later, Alec and Max are back in Logan’s living room. They’re dressed to the nines but look decidedly uncomfortable in their suit and ankle-length dress. Max looks absolutely stunning, having pulled her hair back into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her dress is metallic blue, and the full skirt is slashed through with cream; Logan wonders if she chose it specifically for how it will look as she twirls. Alec’s suit is a simple tailored cut, but his dress shirt is the same blue as Max’s dress.
“You two look great,” Logan says sincerely. He hands them their coffee, and the three of them spend an awkward minute or two sipping. Logan can’t take his eyes off Max. He’s not sure what’s more of a turn-on: the fact that she’s jaw-droppingly gorgeous, or the fact that she can break legs while looking that good.
“So,” Alec pipes up. “Can we get started?”
“Right.” While they were gone, Logan had moved his furniture around so the living room looks like a makeshift ballroom. While Max brings their half-full mugs back to the kitchen, Logan hits the lights and the music. With the apartment now only softly illuminated, quiet piano music starts playing. “Are you two ready?” Logan asks once Max returns.
“Let’s do it,” she says.
In retrospect, Logan should have known that it wouldn’t take two highly-trained infiltration soldiers long to learn the basic foxtrot or waltz. Logan demonstrates the different steps with Max, then hovers close by while Alec tries repeating the move. He isn’t jealous of the way Alec’s hands settle over Max’s hip, isn’t jealous when Max presses close and wilts willingly into the other X5’s grip. He certainly isn’t jealous when Max presses one perfectly manicured hand against Alec’s chest.
No matter what Max tells him, Logan is near-convinced that she and Alec had something while she was infected with the virus. He doesn’t think that she’s lying to him per se, just that maybe she wasn’t being completely honest with the degree of emotional attraction she felt toward Alec. Logan can see how they would hook up: less than an hour after he showed them basic moves they are gliding across the living room like they belong together.
Logan suddenly realizes that Max is staring at him around Alec’s shoulder. There must be something in his expression, because her eyes soften and she moves her lips to Alec’s ear and whispers. Logan swears her mouth brushed Alec’s earlobe on purpose. He doesn’t have time to feel annoyed or betrayed, though; they’re in front of him a moment later, all twinkling eyes and mischievous smirks.
“I think we’ve got it,” Max tells him. “Why don’t you test us?”
“I’ll lead,” Alec says before Logan can answer, grabbing his hand and tugging him onto their pseudo-dance floor.
Logan stumbles for a step or two before regaining his balance and his bearings. “Hey—”
The song changes over to a waltz. Alec rests his hand on Logan’s hip and Logan finds himself adjusting accordingly. He feels painfully conspicuous in his own apartment, dressed like a delinquent while two of his friends look incredible.
“Relax a bit,” Alec murmurs, and Logan realizes he’s stiff as a board. He takes a deep breath and follows the music, getting lost in the steady one-two-three, one-two-three of the waltz. Max is standing by the window, watching them with intently. Logan’s fairly certain her smoldering gaze has nothing to do with her smoky eye makeup. When they turn, Logan twists his neck to look over his shoulder at her — partly because he loves that look and partly because Alec’s hand is a hot weight on his waist and it’s a little awkward.
Logan’s head snaps back to Alec when the X5’s hand drifts lower, low on the back of his hip. Behind him, he can hear Max’s sharp intake of breath. He’s about to chide Alec for deliberately baiting them when Max appears.
“Mind if I cut in?” she purrs, sliding between them and forcing Alec to back off.
They’re up to something, Logan can tell. He’s finding it hard to care, though, with Max lithe and gorgeous in his arms. His hands float to her hips, but she corrects him, lacing their fingers together and putting her other hand on his waist.
“I’m leading,” she tells him.
“Okay,” Logan manages.
They finish the waltz and switch gears for the next foxtrot. Max dances closer than is proper and her fingers creep up Logan’s shirt. After suffering so long with the virus between them, just this slight touch is electrifying. Logan shivers under her fingernails, barely noticing that she’s gliding them across the room until they’re almost on top of Alec.
Alec’s leaning against the wall, one hand twisting his tie around his fist. His eyes are like green fire, following their every move. His tongue snakes out to lick the corner of his mouth; Logan wonders if he even notices.
Max moves like smooth lightning, twirling aside and then gripping Logan’s hips with strong hands. Before he can ask, she’s pushing him into Alec, who is stunned but opens his arms to accommodate. Logan puts his arms on Alec’s shoulders to avoid smashing their faces together, but Max is still shoving, insistent.
“Max—” Logan starts.
“Kiss him,” she whispers, tightening her hold on his waist.
Alec’s hands ghost over Max’s, settling on Logan’s back. He doesn’t make a move, but Logan can see him swallow — can feel him tremble. Logan’s hands clench into fists, bunching up Alec’s fine Italian jacket. Max pushes him again, pressing him so hard against Alec that Logan can feel warm exhales whisper over his cheek.
“Kiss him,” Max orders again, her voice breathy and tortured.
The sound of her coming undone at his back makes Logan want to do whatever she wants. He turns his head, finds Alec’s lips soft and pliant and kisses him hard. He tastes like strong coffee and Logan licks it up. Alec makes a small noise in the back of his throat and squirms under Logan’s hands. Logan unbuttons the jacket and pushes it off Alec’s shoulders, running his hands over cool Italian silk. Now Alec’s arms are pinned to his side by the jacket, Max’s hands are wandering over whatever of Logan’s they can reach — very distracting.
“Don’t stop.” The command is soft but firm. Logan smiles against Alec’s mouth; it just figures that Max would be a deliberate, toppy voyeur.
He’s eager to please her. Logan finds himself undoing Alec’s tie and working a few of his buttons open. When Logan splays one hand over Alec’s collarbone, the X5 struggles, but can’t move much without ruining his suit. He pushes his erection into Alec’s hip, feels the answering hardness pressed against him. Behind him, Max is breathing heavily.
Logan may be trapped between them, but he’s obviously not powerless here. He releases Alec’s mouth to work his way down the other man’s neck. Max growls when Alec’s head lolls, and suddenly Logan finds himself spun around and shoved against Alec’s chest — finds his mouth full of Max.
“Logan,” she whispers against his lips. “Logan.”
He puts his arms around her, even as she reaches around him for Alec.
Logan’s bed is a little crowded for three. He’s in the middle, propped up on the majority of the pillows. On his left, Alec is sleeping on his stomach, facing away from them but pillowed on Logan’s arm. Curled into his other side is Max. She smiles up at him, mascara a little smudged, before settling down for a catnap of her own.
Logan wakes up with two numb arms, but it’s worth it.
~end
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