#yeah i get it the air quality in New York sucks ass right now

[cooking-with-hailstones]

Americans "having a single iota of sympathy for the literal thousands of Canadians who have had their homes and communities destroyed by fire instead of yelling at us for making their sky orange" Challenge (impossible)

[alienisticxo]

X Angel - Chapter Two

Elon Musk x Reader

{Authors Note} Thanks to some encouragement on AO3 I will be continuing this strange little story. So if you happen to come across it, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: An uncomfortable instance.

Bright white camera bulbs flashed in every direction, the shrill ringing of screams filling my ears until I couldn’t hear myself think anymore. I was blinded by the light that flooded with every rapid click, snapping away at my every move as I exited the Cybertruck I’d been driven in. I was already fashionably late to a discreet -or maybe not so, now- meeting set up by the head representatives of my record label, Astra Records. My manager had decided to tip off the media, and my publicist decided to make it an event without it exactly being one.

It was a complex task, staring into those brazen flashes without so much as a flinch, but that was what was required of me. That was my job and life’s mission for as long as I held the position I did. The ‘drugged out’ smile I was known for never faltered as the flawless chrome of my body reflected every photographer's shining glamor shot right back into their lenses. Despite being surrounded by personnel, security and otherwise, people still clawed and clamored their way forward in an attempt to invade my space as I walked toward the large building before me.

“{Y/N}, over here!” one yelled.

“Give us a wink, will ya?” yelled another.

“I’d fucking die for you!” a shriek made itself heard over everyone else in the roaring crowd.

I just smiled and continued to trek, my {H/C} hair drifting around my face and behind me. I concentrated on my gait, my posture, the way my expression felt as I stepped past my adoring audience.

One misstep and it’s all over, of course.

Occasionally I thought about what a strange thing fame was. People would die or kill for you, just to see you or speak to you. We were all the same, deep down. No matter the wiring or blood that ran under our skin, or chrome. The only ones who seemed to place others on pedestals for no true reason other than a little talent that thousands of others had and would never get the chance to share, were other lifeforms. What really made someone want to know me more than another being who can do the same things, maybe even better? The only difference between myself and someone who possessed the same talents was that no one except the other party’s close circle of friends and family knew of their capabilities. We did it to ourselves, really. If only everyone were looked at the same way.

My security guards pushed against me then, catching me off guard in a crucial moment that could’ve been dangerous for me in more ways than one. They were blocking a rogue fan who’d been dying to ‘feel me.’

I tensed up in the absolute slightest manner as I followed Jett, my manager, into the tall metallic building that was made up of glass, but reflected the entire city skyline on its exterior, catching the neon glow, Saturn and the twinkling stars above with it. Privacy was a must, of course. Being able to see out but not being able to see in was imminent for any corporation’s design. The large double doors that disappeared with a glitch as we approached, reappeared behind us as we stepped further into the lobby of Astra Records. The noise of the rowdy crowd just beyond the front steps of the building sounded as though it was sucked back outside and muffled, like someone had put a lid over the heaps of people screaming my name.

“You’d think they wouldn’t need those old school cameras anymore,” I commented, the exasperation in my voice clear as I relaxed a bit more from escaping the masses, disappearing deeper into the lobby until the sound was no longer audible at all.

“{Y/N}, how else are they going to send the pictures back to Earth?” Jett asked me, a hint of condescension in his tone before pausing.

“People sure are different here aren’t they? They worship you celebrities like gods, worse than little fangirls back on Earth.”

I stared ahead, continuing my trek to the teleportation pad without entertaining his thoughts.

“Fuck, I’m in the wrong business,” he continued in slight disbelief to himself. ��Maybe I’ll figure out how to go chrome and become a star instead of managing all you shitheads,” he joked snidely, a nasty grin on his metal-grilled teeth as he turned his head over his shoulder to look at me.

Jett had come to X from Earth after having no luck finding any clients to manage once the great exodus of the rich and famous began. Places like Los Angeles, New York City, London and Tokyo had already been cut throat with the industry players. Once everything fell out, no one trusted a soul to handle their affairs anymore.

It wasn’t hard to see that Jett wasn’t exactly a clean cut looking person to begin with, either.

It was my luck I’d be stuck with him at Astra, but I knew in all aspects I was just that— lucky. I didn’t complain. How could I?

However, as he put it, he hitched a ride on the next flight out and got to work right away with the record label. It was just that easy, and he was just that good.

Sure.

“It doesn’t work like that,” I finally responded in a flat tone to his statement, my eyes scanning the confines of the space as we stood a few feet from the pad. Jett pulled the oversized and black-reflective shades from his eyes then, turning his body to look at me. He lecherously stepped closer before running his -what I assumed to be- warm fingers down the side of my cold cheek slowly, his eyes raking up and down my frame. My jaw clenched unbeknownst to him, and I kept my gaze straight ahead.

“You are a sweet design, I’ll give them that… If it weren’t for security on your ass all the time…”

His eyes moved to the front doors in the near distance behind me as my security team approached us from their previous position handling the crowd, and with that, he let out an abrupt howl, snapping his fingers against the palm of his hand and turning back to lead me upstairs with a cocky gait.

It was moments like that that made my stomach churn. I had to deal with the disgusting remarks and actions, to take them like a champ without even indicating that I acknowledged them at all.

If I did, it was my life on the line.

I was just glad that was the extent of it from him. Even more grateful that that was the extent of it from anyone.

With a silent exhale, and no outward show of disapproval, I swiftly followed behind him onto the teleportation device, ignoring everything he’d said like it simply never happened. With one quick scan of our bodies, as fast as I blinked my {E/C} eyes, we were standing outside of the boardroom I’d only seen twice before. Once to meet the representatives, and the last time to sign myself away to them. As my security team entered next, I searched my surroundings again. The whole floor, who’s exterior wall overlooked another angle of Drax City and a beautiful moon above it, felt familiar as I caught sight of the usual decor. It was dark save for the neon buzzed along the walls, palm trees that were coated in a glittery powder that grew on the leaves as per a new gardening experiment sat in pots in corners next to chrome coated lounge couches and translucent coffee tables. A muted holographic television screen played Astra’s channel on it against a wall, and I saw myself there, giving the last corrupt public service announcement that the Planet X Space Association worked with the label for so long and so hard to have me release to the masses. PXSA was our form of government and space flight. An odd combination, but one nonetheless. I didn’t necessarily believe in the things they forced me to read aloud; fill the heads of the unwise and naive with. But the check was nice, and I was in no position to decline their wishes.

The large area was cast in purple, blue and pink light as nostalgic pinball machines blinked from a short distance away, offering a “glimpse into the past.” Another client, brand new, sat on a couch and played a video game through the latest virtual reality headset, the images they saw being cast across another holographic screen while they waited. It was all very pretty, really, very modern and yet fantastical as I had remembered it from before. But despite the ethereal atmosphere, I still felt uneasy.

I had no idea who I was meeting and what I was meeting them for this time. No one ever seemed to feel the need to tell me much of anything when it came to business affairs. I was told where to go, I showed up on schedule or a little late, and I did what I had to do as I learned what that was upon arrival. The rest was simply code and programming to the people who ran my life; there was no room for error, and I had to learn fast and according to the individual's expectations of me-- or better. I followed Jett down the long purple hued hallway just off of the lounge area, his sleazy demeanor seeping from his pores as he stalked his way to another pair of double doors and stopped as it scanned his body. He looked back over his shoulder at me once more with a smirk before turning and walking through them dramatically, announcing my presence as though I were some prized show pony come to a town where nothing ever happened.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the one, the only, Drax City’s own, {Y/F/N}... {Y/L/N}!”

That was my cue.

He stepped aside, his hands reaching out and over to exhibit my presence once I made my way through the doors behind him and stopped in my tracks, my heels still seeming to echo through the large room. Holding my head up high -chin slightly in the air like the small, but statuesque figure I was- was expected from me. And as I held my position, I immediately noticed eleven pairs of eyes sitting around an iridescent boardroom table that were set on nothing other than me as they quickly and quietly gasped and gawked.

“Her figure, the quality,” one drew out.

“I didn’t expect her to be so… so lifelike, in person,” said another.

“Oh yeah, she’s a real beauty,” said Jett, stepping around me then, his hand tightening around the metallic surface of my waist before raking through my hair as though I were a child’s doll. “X hasn’t seen a model like this… Ever. She’s the most famous pop star on our planet— They can’t get enough, eat her up like candy. That’s why she doesn’t come cheap, boys.”

He patted my side then, making me feel like a used car being sold by a greaseball salesman.

That caught my attention, though. My head turned just a hair, but I caught myself before anyone could realize my reaction. I ground my teeth, trying to compose myself through the abrupt shock I was facing. Quickly fixating my line of sight on a neon lamp in the shape of a star that burned in the corner, I desperately attempted to hold my composure. My ears seemed to have failed me however, my thoughts taking front and center as the men briefly discussed things amongst themselves.

Are they going to sell me? To who? Why?

“Oh, we know all about her on Earth. That’s why we want her. We can imagine she’s a planetary treasure here on X, but she’s interplanetary. Labels, execs, people, would just kill to get their hands on her,” one man said, looking at me with a fever in his eye. I guessed he might’ve been the catalyst for my… purchase. The word tasted bitter on my tongue even as a mere thought.

“They’d listen to anything she tells them to do.”

Jett smirked, lifting a shoulder and asserting dominance in his own way.

“She goes to the highest bidder,” he responded blatantly. “And none of this ‘cash’ bullshit. She’s obviously makin’ us a lotta crypto. No one else can afford her. That’s why she’s still with us here at Astra.”

I allowed myself to slowly absorb the situation, then. Astra was trying to deal me away to Earth, the very place I’d almost died trying to escape, all for monetary gain. It wasn’t unheard of, stars being sent to Earth and even back again, but I was X’s golden girl. Or maybe chrome…

They needed me. More than they thought, I now realized. They couldn’t replace me.

Or maybe I was the one mistaken, maybe they could.

As my eyes scanned the area, I also noticed the nature of the collective individuals that sat before me. All in black and gray pressed suits, all male. They’d come here solely to make a deal, an offer Astra couldn’t refuse, and they weren’t leaving without a signed contract, empty pockets, and my life. Fight or flight kicked in, hitting me like a brick, but I couldn’t react. Everything was in slow motion, and it was killing me from the inside out, not being able to protest. It wasn’t in my nature, but I had to play ball now, and well.

One of the suited men stood up from a chair that floated behind the iridescent glazed table, which I now noticed held the reflection of the cityscape that could be seen through the windowed exterior wall as well. He walked over to me with a drilling stare, his stride confident and assertive.

“And this is 100% cybernetic?” He asked Jett, as though I weren’t even in the room.

“Yes,” he spat incredulously.

“What model is she? From who?”

The man stood before me, eyeing me from top to bottom. I wanted to scream.

“That’s the thing,” Jett began again, moving to lean against the table. “We don’t know. She was left at our doors with a letter to the CEO, like some orphaned child. Said she had no recollection of anything other than her programming. We’re lucky her programming was to be a singer,” he finished with a snide grin.

The man snorted then. The tale was unbelievable, sure, but they had no choice but to believe it. There was simply no other excuse for me. A.I. was common, but I was as human as they were going to get, at least for the foreseeable future. That alone made me quite the commodity, something to be revered by other corporations, enterprises and record labels who needed a workhorse without the demands of humans. People saw themselves in me, they felt they could relate, or become just like me someday. This kept them eating out of the palm of whoever’s hand I spoke for and persuaded them to.

Still, the way my mind worked was not the same way as other A.I. beings. I had real demands in order to work, not lifting a finger otherwise, and I made sure they learned this once it was too late— once they couldn’t let me go anymore.

Unless you had enough crypto, apparently.

The older man examined what he could of my body with no regard for my own thoughts on the matter, looking everywhere for any indication of a branding or a code. His brow furrowed when he found none.

“Who are you?” he asked me then, seeming quite perplexed.

“{Y/N},” I smiled. “Drax City’s very own.”

“Where are you from?”

“Planet X, sir. Made and programmed. It’d be an honor to work with you and your people,” I lied. “This city gets kind of boring when you’ve done it all,” I finished exasperatedly.

“Very realistic,” he commented to Jett, his eyes still studying my face. “A.I. just keeps getting better and better. This is incredible. She’s so… human.”

“Did you think we were fuckin’ lying to you? I’m sure you’ve seen her all over TV, she might as well be a person. She thinks, she feels. Hell, I think I’ve seen her cry before,” he said, taking an apple that sat untouched and forever ripe from a bowl on the table. “And she doesn’t even rust.”

They conversed between each other then, deciding my fate with nothing more than cryptocurrency hanging between us. I wasn’t listening anymore, maybe it was a coping mechanism. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the notion that they would just sell me away to Earth. Maybe I just didn’t want to think they would. They used me for everything they did, advertisements, sold out shows, records— even virtual reality experiences. They made crypto over crypto, dollars upon dollars, thanks to cutting government deals as long as I told everyone to listen. I showed up to every event, knew everyone who was anyone, and then a few more people. If they needed something, I’d do it. If I needed something, they’d do it. That’s just how this worked.

Until now.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when a man standing near the corner closest to the window that I hadn’t noticed before, finally spoke up.

The lights from the city beyond cast a glow over his features, mixing with the neon that lit up the room itself. I knew exactly who he was the moment my attention turned to him, not only by his face, but by his deep voice as well.

Attractive, tall, dark haired and with a presence that could command a room despite the quirkiness that he was often known for, it took everything in me to keep from going slackjawed and wide-eyed. His eccentricities were a staple of his personality, and enigmatic wasn't a word enough to describe him and the aura that surrounded him. Anyone would’ve recognized the man, no matter where they hailed from, and yet, his presence certainly caught me off guard. He was even better than the photos.

He was Elon Musk.

Elon was one of Earth’s most influential people, if not the most influential person. But on X, there was a mixed opinion of him that wasn’t exactly warranted. Though he had helped humans become an interplanetary species, among so many other things, as artificial intelligence became more prevalent, it began to turn on its creators. This caused quite a rift between the cyber world and the human world, lending more firepower behind the crime that had already begun to lace the streets due to the advancement that kept average people struggling to make ends meet and survive in the new world.

Elon was blamed for the downfall despite the warnings he’d cautioned the public with for years. It wasn’t until Neuralink was released to the public for use that humanity began to appreciate him again on a grander scale. He seemed to single handedly salvage humanity, curing medical issues that otherwise had no solution, allowing humans to live for much longer with far better quality of life. Of course, until Earth fell apart again.

Planet X, though, was built on technology; on futuristic ways of existing that he himself had paved the way for, thus causing its inhabitants to maintain far less respect for him. To Xians, futurism was par for the course. Elon wasn’t special there anymore. They ate advanced technology and cybernetics for breakfast, and spat it out into something better for lunch.

But to me, he was still a hero. Though we’d never so much as come close to each other, he had never let me down before. From electric vehicles to space travel, to underground tunnels and mock flamethrowers, his creative and profound mind was something I’d always admired from the moment I learned of his existence.

He had his share of blunders like much everyone else, but overall, I knew he was a decent man. No one had ever made it their life’s mission to help humanity on such a large scale with the capability he had, especially in some of the worst times of what we knew to be Earth’s existence. He valued helping humanity, and he was always honest about doing so. Elon Musk’s intelligence was beyond comprehension, in a way that made anyone want to sit down and pick his brain. And, well, he had a sense of humor on top of it all that made him feel more real than the idea of him even seemed.  

I wasn’t sure what to think of him on a personal level, most people had good things to say, others horror stories. I never thought about it too much or imagined him to be any kind of way, not wanting to tarnish any of the admiration I already had for him. I never expected to meet the man himself despite my position in the galaxy. I was a star, but he was far beyond me. Deep down though, I just hoped he was kind, nice; even if they say to never meet your heroes, because they’re usually quite the opposite.

It took every ounce of control to remain the composed little package they all expected me to be in the moment.

“I’d like to see her on my own,” he stated, every head in the room turning to face him as he did so.

[lovelyirony]

Through flames and oceans (for the fic title)

u know. this was supposed to not go the direction it did. but it did. 

People say they will do a lot for love. They will walk through flames, cross an entire ocean for love.

Bruce tells himself that that’s the stupidest fucking thing people say. He, for one, will not do that. There is also the unspoken reason of that love really isn’t in the cards for him.

Currently, he’s running away from his ex-girlfriend’s dad, General Ross, because he may or may not have done some experimentation and turned into a rage monster, but also revealed some state secrets.

Come on, can you blame him? Cosmo said twenty-year-olds need to accomplish something before they hit thirty. And he’s quite sure he just made the list.

But as for love, he is thinking about it right now because his ex-girlfriend found a very nice girl named Valkyrie, and they’re kind of set to have an engagement party, and “would you please come to the United States to help us celebrate?”

Betty is a wonderful woman, really and truly. And Bruce is okay with how their relationship ended, because it’s not like Bruce could come to family dinner and expect anything besides murder or maybe cold potatoes. And Betty deserved someone far better than him, and from the picture that was sent, it looks like Valkyrie is an amazing catch.

But there is the small matter of making it to the States without getting caught. He is on quite a lot of “no-fly” and “travel restrictive” protocols. This sucks, by the way. He had frequent flier miles saved up and everything.

It sucks, at least, until he remembers Tony’s number and calls it.

(Tony had given him his number, but sometimes he forgets that four and nine are two distinctly different numbers.)

“Brucie, baby! What can I get for you? Don’t worry, the government hasn’t been able to tap my phone calls since I was seventeen and mostly joking about finding out where their secret weapons storage is.”

“Betty’s having her engagement party, and I’m invited. I kind of need a ride home.”

“Where are you located at, right now?”

“Buenos Aires.”

“You lucky son of a bitch, god I miss it there. You having a good time?”

“When I’m avoiding government agents, yes.”

“Hm, well i’m sending a new employee of mine to go and get you. Big guy, probably Swedish.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t presume if someone’s Swedish or not, Bruce. I’m a terrible person, but not that terrible.”

“I...I don’t follow your sense of humor.”

“No one does, that’s why celebrities call me avant garde and ahead of my time.”

“Good to know. What’s your new guy’s name?”

“Thor.”

“Are you...are you fucking with me?”

"Darling, you’d be having a much better time if I was.”

“I don’t like the energy we’re manifesting here,” Bruce deadpans.

Tony snorts. “Okay, hippie. He’ll be there by tomorrow morning. Just stay tight where you are, sugar.”

-

Thor is a gigantic man. He parts crowds like it’s what he was meant to do, and maybe it is. Bruce stares up at him.

“Hello Dr. Banner,” Thor says, smiling gently. “You are Dr. Ross’s friend, right?”

“Um...yeah. I am.”

“Excellent. I’m a friend of Valkyrie’s, is it okay if I go ahead and fly out to the airport nearest their house?”

“Uh, is Tony okay with that?”

“Of course. And we can stop at your house if you need anything.”

“Oh, I don’t have a house. Or an apartment. You would not believe how much the US government hates my credit score.”

Thor chuckles a little bit, leading him back to a nondescript car.

“Right this way.”

-

Thor is cool as a cucumber on the outside, as they’re driving. He’s mindlessly tapping on his phone as Bruce stares out the window.

Inside? Oh, Thor hates Val for this. So much.

so, you didn’t think to send me a picture of dr. banner? just the address?

lmaooooo called it. betty owes me something now. fuckin nerd. just ask him out.

no. we still have to bypass american security

which you are “old hat” at. or did i forget that you nearly almost charmed the pants off of one of the airline people?

we don’t speak of that.

relax. stark’s taking care of it anyway.

The airplane ride home is uneventful, thank god. One of Tony’s jets awaits, and the pilot is very surprised to see a man who ranks number four on America’s Most Wanted List to be there.

“You...you know Tony?”

“And you know what an NDA is,” Tony announces over the intercom. “Bruce, welcome. Mimosas are premade, in stock. Sit back and enjoy the ride! Thor, you do what you gotta do to make sure Bruce stays safe. Enjoy the bridal shower!”

The pilot is a bit apprehensive. But mostly okay. Bruce promises nothing’s going to happen, he’s just going to drink tea and catch up on news about the current state of things.

Bruce gets bored with finding out that things are still terrible, so he talks to Thor.

“So...are your parents just really into Norse mythology, or did they know you’d come out a huge guy who has the potential to probably stop Ragnarok?”

Thor chuckles, the laugh rumbling and deep.

(Okay, that’s hot.)

"My parents’ names were Odin and Frigga. You could say they were traditionalists when it came to my brother and I.”

“You mean...?”

“He embodies the name a bit too well for my taste, but yes.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah. Let me tell you about the time we accidentally crashed a fashion week thing...” 

Bruce laughs a lot about that story. Thor’s laugh is majestic, and they sit a little bit closer. 

-

By the time the plane lands, they’re great friends and Thor reaches over Bruce in the baggage area and wow that man has very defined muscles. 

Not that that’s important. No, that’s like. Not important at all. So what if Thor is very well-muscled and maybe this will play into Bruce’s intrusive thoughts/daydream thoughts at later intervals? Does not matter. At all. 

(Oh god the man smells like salty ocean air Bruce has got it so so bad. So Bad.) 

- 

Tony greets them at the landing pad with a wide grin, eyes lighting up. 

“Well, don’t you two make the happy couple,” he teases. Bruce turns red. This does not go unnoticed. 

“Bruce, honestly, you run away from government and my friendship, and this is what gets you--” 

“A bridal shower? To get me home? Yes,” Bruce says, cutting in not-at-all smoothly. “Now, where are Betty and her bride staying at?” 

“Oh, they’re staying at the cutest little bed and breakfast for their bridal shower. Rented out the whole thing--well Pepper did, it was our wedding gift to them, and of course I mean Pep’s wedding gift, because I have something else planned-” 

“Please tell me that you do not have a house bought for them,” Thor says. 

“Complete with a laboratory and gymnasium,” Tony says with a wink. “I’m kidding, they already have a house. I just kind of kicked them out for a week while I remodel their entire kitchen. Val gave me the colors, I was surprised that she has taste.” 

“If she hears you say that, she’ll kick your ass.” 

“Which is why she won’t,” Tony reminds Thor. “Now, let’s get to unpacking. Bruce, I’m getting you some good shampoo, holy shit your hair sucks.” 

“Thank you Tony, I love and value our friendship and our kindness towards each other as well,” Bruce deadpans. 

“Oh come on, you have to look good. It’s your ex’s wedding party!” 

“You make us sound so dramatic,” Bruce says with a snort. “We broke up. Big deal.” 

“You and Betty...?” Thor asks. 

“Yeah, but it’s fine. We were dating, and then I pissed off her dad, who happens to be a general. I mean, also the government. But mostly her dad.” 

“Wow.” 

Thor’s type shouldn’t be feral scientist. But it is. 

They’re led inside, and Tony bids them goodbye. 

“Duty calls,” Tony says airily, waving. “Make yourself at home, don’t put coffee grounds down the disposal or I will kick you out. Rogers is still nursing his wounds.” 

“Noted,” Bruce says. 

“I drink tea,” Thor answers. 

Bruce shares a look. 

“You too?” 

“Yeah, I prefer it over coffee most of the time.” 

Bruce smiles. 

“I think we’re going to get along.” 

- 

They have a couple of days until the wedding party, and Thor has never seen New York. Bruce is fairly sure that no one will even see him on the CCTV footage as long as he’s walking next to Thor, so he deems it good enough to go and get a bagel. 

Thor is a very gentle man. That’s a good quality. 

He smiles at a little girl, who is staring, open-mouthed. Even gives her a little wave. Bruce grins. 

“You like kids?” 

“I do. They mostly just want to have fun, want to see what the best of the world is. I think we all need that occasionally.” 

“I’ve never thought of that,” Bruce confesses. He takes a sip of his coffee.

“I love watching my cousins,” Thor continues. “The way they grow and figure it all out, it’s rewarding. What about your family?” 

Bruce freezes. 

“Um. I don’t exactly have a family.” 

“Then you’ll just have to meet some of my cousins,” Thor amends, smiling as he sips his drink. “You’d like them.” 

“I’d like that,” Bruce says, grinning. “What’s next on our New York agenda?” 

"I told Loki I’d visit some stores for him and pick up some items he’s been wanting.” 

-

Have you ever seen a sales associate from Chanel be terrified at your presence? No? It’s worth it. 

Bruce is kind of concerned. 

“I...are you...?” 

“My name is Robert, uncanny similarities,” Bruce responds. “We both were born in Ohio.” 

“Why is it always Ohio,” Thor mutters. “You reckon my brother would want this shoe or that?” 

“Ooh, definitely go with the heel. I think that’s good.”  

“Gotcha.” 

Next shop is Dior. 

This goes a bit out of hand. His whole line about being Robert with Incredible Similarity does not go as planned. 

He and Thor are on a subway, currently running away from some authority figures and calling Tony. 

“I was in the middle of learning drama about high society that I can use in my next romance novel, are you joking?” Tony hisses. 

“You write romance novels?” Thor asks. 

“Now is not the time to question that, I’m in the middle of making sure you get a car to your next stop. How well do you both know what a Chrysler is?” 

“The building, right?” 

“God, I hate you so much,” Tony groans. “No, um...it looks like the wing things that they give army people when they do something that I guess they think is cool.” 

“Oh. Okay. Get in that car?” 

“Yes. It’s gonna be red with silver detailing.”

“Tony, they’re gonna know it’s us.” 

“Believe me, they won’t. Trust me.” 

- 

So as it turns out, it’s not the most ostentatious vehicle. 

Because Tony pulls up in a lifted pick-up truck, painted a sparkling, neon green with bright orange wheels. 

It is the ugliest goddamn thing Bruce has ever seen. Also the most effective. 

Thor nearly shoves Bruce into the car, and they’re sitting too close, and Bruce probably shouldn’t be focusing on the fact that Thor’s hair is now artfully messy, but here he is. Doing that. 

“So, sorry that before the wedding shower we’re being hunted down by the government.” 

“Not the worst thing that I could be doing on a Friday,” Thor says with a shrug. “I think you’re just about the most interesting person I’ve met, Bruce.” 

He smiles at him. Bruce’s heart skips a beat. He can’t tell if it’s because of the eye contact or the fact that they’re in close proximity. Maybe both. 

“You wanna go on a date after all this?” Bruce blurts out. 

He does. And as soon as he says it, he kind of regrets it because they’re in a car with glittery silver interior seats and he’s also in pants that have seen better days, and his hair is a Mess. 

(Also self-esteem issues, but Bruce is used to that so he’s not counting it.) 

“Like, after we get home or when the government gives up on finding you?” 

“I don’t know. Whichever one comes first?” 

“Technically, I think I count as army jurisdiction, and military budget is a fountain of money.” 

“Ah. Then home it is. How do you feel about ordering in?” 

“Mm, sounds good,” Bruce says, grinning. “You’re the best.” 

“Well, I certainly try,” Thor says, grinning right back. “You wanna go to Betty and Val’s shower together?” 

“Yes. Do we have to amend our ‘how-we-met’ story?” 

“Not at all. Valkyrie used to run an underground fight ring. She knows the feeling.” 

“How has that not come up in conversation?” 

“We were kind of preoccupied trying to figure out what a Chrysler car looked like.” 

“Oh, true.” 

- 

At the wedding party, Bruce and Thor are very happy. Betty and Val roll their eyes and laugh as they talk. 

“Leave it to my dad to ruin everything,” Betty gripes. 

“Well he didn’t ruin this party or my meeting Thor,” Bruce defends. “Besides, you know what happens if he steps a foot near you.” 

Betty grins. 

“You serious?” 

“Can’t promise you’ll get your security deposit back, but yes.” 

Betty pulls him into a hug. 

“You’re too sweet to me.” 

“Yeah, tell me that after he steps on the limousine.” 

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry,” Thor says, grinning. “I think Tony has some sort of security feature worked in.” 

“Oh, he does,” Val says. “He’s threatened to pull some of the contracts for safety gear. Won’t go through with it, but Ross can’t touch the wedding. Best gift ever.” 

- 

When the party gets late, Thor and Bruce are sitting out on the porch. Clean-up is happening, and they’re taking a break. Thor thinks that Bruce has never looked more beautiful in a rumpled yellow shirt, soft lights making his face glow. 

“I’m glad I met you,” Thor murmurs, moving a stray curl. 

“Really?” Bruce asks, smiling softly. “I think I’m glad I met you too.” 

- 

Bruce grins behind his door when they make it home. Thor had kissed him on the cheek, and while that wasn’t too big of a deal, it was a big deal to him. 

“See you in the morning, dear,” Thor had told him. 

He was going to be up half the night with that line running through his head. 

- 

A lot of people do a lot of things for love. Bruce still wouldn’t walk through flames, or swim across an entire ocean, but he’s starting to understand. 

[katedrakeohd]

#Wacky Drabbles No. 11

Happy Birthday Drake

Prompt: " Did you have fun? "

Rated: (M 18+)

Pairing: Damien Nazario × Drake Walker

Tagging wacky drabblers:

@emceesynonymroll @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @speedyoperarascalparty @bbrandy2002 @jessiembruno @brightpinkpeppercorn @mfackenthal @qween-corgis @gardeningourmet @pedudley

Word count: no idea, cuz I wrote it here.

____________

Drake woke up tangled in hotel sheets. Stretching out his limbs lazily with a sigh, the throbbing in his head reminded him of last night's drinking binge.

Rolling over toward his bed partner, he hugs the pillow against his stubbled cheek and gazes into a face with a pair of chocolatey brown eyes and a sleepy smile.

"Good morning Mr. Nazario." He drawls with a smirk.

Damien leans over placing his warm hand on Drake's rough cheek, bringing him in for a soft kiss. "Good morning to you too hot stuff."

Drake kicks off what's left of the sheet, sliding his foot over to nudge against Damien's shin. "Hot stuff huh?"

Tilting his head back to take in Drake's naked profile in the morning light, Damien swallows as his breath catches in his throat. Memories of the drunken night before come back to him in hot passionate flashes of skin on skin.

----

It had been Drake's Birthday, and they'd been at a bar. They were just two anonymous guys at first, nursing tumblers of whiskey and watching the room as they sat on barstools. As the evening wore on and sweaty drunken people wandered over from the dance floor to order mixed drinks full of more ice than alcohol, he and Drake had outlasted them all.

Drake was on his third double whiskey and feeling fairly buzzed and relaxed when he noticed the man at the other end of the bar watching him. Lifting his glass in greeting, he's met with a slight nod and a grin from the other guy.

Damien had been casually watching the tall handsome devil all evening. He'd seen busty drunk girls sidle up to him and flirt but get brushed off with a shake of his head or a sullen frown. He had found it odd that someone so desirable could be so unwilling to accept a date. When the younger man had finally lifted his glass and made eye contact, he'd felt a sizzle of attraction and couldn't help but smile back. It had been a while since Damien had shared the company of a man so attractive, and he decided to take the leap and introduce himself. After downing the rest of his whiskey he fished a handful of bills out of his wallet and placed them on the bar and set his glass on top.

Walking around the corner of the bar, he notices the other guy glance at him and then look away. When he nervously rubs the back of his neck and then shifts his gaze down to the floor, it makes Damien smile. He knows I'm coming over for him.

Damien stops a few feet away, putting a barstool between them and then catches the attention of the bartender. "Excuse me barkeep, what kind of payment does the pool table over there take?"

"It takes coins," Drake interrupts, tossing back the last of his whiskey.

"Wanna play?" Damien asks, with a grin.

Drake gives the man with the dark hair and soulful eyes a quick sweep with his gaze, trying to gauge if he was flirting or just bored. With the amount of alcohol thrumming through his veins at this point his inhibitions were pretty low and he didn't care either way.

"Okay, sure. It's my lucky day and I'm feeling generous so I'll buy the first game."

Damien nods, slapping down a few bills on the bar. "Ok, if you buy the game I'll buy the beers."

Pushing away from the bar, Drake smiles. "Works for me. I'm Drake by the way."

Damien picks up the bottles of beer and then jerks his head in the direction of the table. "Damien. Lead the way."

Taking a sip from the bottle, Damien followed Drake across the room, appreciating the way his straight leg jeans hugged his ass and thighs. That sizzle of attraction buzzed through his veins again, and he took another sip of beer to cool the heat crawling through his belly. Setting the bottles on a side table, Damien peels off his leather jacket and then unbuttons and rolls up his sleeves. He felt very warm and wished he'd opted to wear a tshirt like Drake had. Taking another swallow of beer, he opens the top button on his dress shirt.

Drake shoves his hand in the front pocket of his jeans searching for coins to pay for their game. Damien's eyes are drawn down to his groin and the way he adjusts himself slightly as he digs for coins. Sweet Jesus, the way he fills out his jeans. Or maybe it's just the layers of denim and zipper giving an illusion of more? Fuck, it's indecent the shape of what he's packing.

Drake catches him looking and clears his throat, sending Damien's gaze back up to focus on his face. "So I come to this place often but haven't seen you here before."

Damien leans against the table, crossing his arms across his chest. He hesitates a moment, wondering what to tell Drake about himself. "I'm not from here, just passing through between jobs."

Drake takes in the worn quality of Damien's clothing, the scuff on his boots, trying to decipher what he did for a living. There was a slight wrinkle to his cotton shirt as if it hadn't been folded up or seen a hanger for a while. Damien's style wasn't that much different than his own. Wash and wear, throw on the floor, then wear again.

Damien startles Drake out of his idle thoughts, the whiskey was evidently starting to make his mind fuzzy around the edges.

"So you said it was your lucky day. What's so special about today?"

Drake smiles as he puts coins in the pay slot of the pool table and releases the balls for play. "Oh yeah, I said that didn't I? It's my Birthday today."

After Drake straightens back up, Damien claps him hard on the shoulder, and smiles, "Really? Hey that's great man, Happy Birthday."

Drake nods, his shoulder tingling from the slap. He'd only been touched that way by his friends. And for some reason he felt excited about how Damien's slap made his skin tingle. Sucking in a deep breath, he grabs the ball frame and arranges the pool balls on the table for play. "Uh, Okay..Damien. Go grab a couple of cues and let's play."

What was it about this guy that made me want to do things I've never done before? Maybe it's the way he keeps looking at me like I'm a snack. He's so smooth and charming, and commanding but not in a rude or condescending sort of way like I'm used to hearing from the nobility. I kind of like it.

An hour, and three beers each later, Drake was up two games to one. Was Damien really that bad a player or was he just sloppy from the alcohol?

They'd joked about random stuff, talked about women and argued about whose favorite teams were better, ranging from football, baseball to basketball and beyond.

They hadn't realized how late it was until the bar was empty, and the lights went up. The bartender thumped his hand on the bar to get their attention, "Alright guys, it's closing time. You have a tab, now settle it. Call a taxi, stagger home, or whatever, I don't care. But you can't stay here."

Drake looked at Damien's grinning face, and the glassy luster of his eyes. He looked about as drunk as Drake felt. Shrugging into his leather jacket, Damien pulls his wallet out of his pocket and hands it to Drake. "Here, pay the man I gotta go take a piss."

Drake's mouth drops open, as he watches Damien shuffle his way to bathroom at the back of the bar. Glancing over at the collection of empty beer bottles on the table, he reluctantly opens the wallet and tries not to look at anything personal. Damien has an impressive wad of cash. There was a mixture of Euros, American and Canadian. Who was this guy?

Drake grabs a bunch of Euros and hands them to the bartender, stealing a glance at his ID before closing the wallet. Damien Nazario, New York City.

There was some other sort of identification card that Drake didn't get a good look at in time before he saw Damien returning from the bathroom.

"All paid up?" Damien asks as Drake nods and hands him back his wallet.

The bartender folds his arms across his chest, giving his head a jerk in the direction of the door. Time to get the fuck out.

Drake and Damien both wave goodbye to the bartender and follow eachother out into the cool evening air. Drake gasps involuntarily, the cool air sobering him up somewhat because he hadn't worn a jacket.

Damien glances up and down the deserted street, not seeing a taxi stand or bus stop in sight. Drake's shoulders are hunched and he has his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He looked cold. Damien bites his lip, considering their options. He didn't feel like going back to his hotel alone, and he didn't want to see Drake wander off cold and alone on his Birthday either.

Pulling off his jacket he offers it to Drake. "Here you can borrow this. I dunno if we're the same size, but at least you won't be so cold."

Drake looks at Damien, feeling unsure. Offering a jacket to your companion is usually a date night sort of thing. Was Damien suddenly his date? They had just spent the evening drinking and playing pool together, but just by chance. It wasn't a date.

Damien raises his eyebrows in question, "Well? You want it or not? You can walk me back to my hotel and then hand it back."

Drake shrugs, "Yeah, what the Hell. We're just two guys walking up the street together. Nothing unusual about that right?"

"Right."

Drake slides his arms into Damien's leather jacket. It smelled of his cologne, sweat and coffee. Things that were uniquely Damien. Drake liked how it smelled. It was a little tight in the shoulders so Drake didn't zip it up. He appreciated the kind gesture, and it was full of Damien's body heat, which was oddly exciting.

"Thanks." He says, falling into step next to Damien as they head up the sidewalk.

As they walk, Damien did up the buttons of his shirt and unrolled his sleeves to keep himself from getting cold. Although they had spent the past hour together, Damien was only now realizing how much taller Drake was than him. A couple of inches for sure. And in his jacket he came off as broader and bigger as well. This only made Damien want him more. If only for one night, to make Drake's Birthday one to remember.

They don't talk as they walk together. Both entertaining their own thoughts over where this night may be heading. As they approach the front doors of the Hotel, Damien stops walking and grabs Drake by the forearm and pulls him into the dark alley. Drake is off balance as Damien pulls him close and whispers in his ear. "Happy Birthday Drake, did you have fun tonight?"

Struck speechless by the heat of his breath in his ear, all Drake can do is nod.

Damien's voice is a low rumble as he says, "The fun doesn't have to stop yet."

continued...here