Nostalgia

"Guards bad at job." Air is thick.

"Apparently." His fingers draw back and fourth across polished surface, waiting for me to move. Walk towards desk; will not be prey. Wait on other side; wish I was faster than a bullet. His hand twitches before he moves right; cheat gives enough time. Slide over desk and plant self behind him. He turns and holds stance. Neither of us move.

"So, Rorschach, why did you come back?" He steps forward and throws a punch he expects me to catch. Mistakenly do so. Second step forward; leg between mine, thigh pressed to groin. "Don't think I don't have my assumptions."

"Here on business." Step back and grab his lapels, pushing him back against the desk. "Tell me why you're doing this."

"Were you a woman I would tell you I'm a man of adventure; truly I'm a man of conquest." Hand tight around scarf, body pulled close. Room is bright and his eyes are just the same. Intellectuals say eyes are the window into the soul. Veidt's soul the surface of the sun, or the bowels of hell. They blaze with the blinding intensity of either, igniting everything they touch. "You of all people should appreciate that."

"Not like you, Veidt." Try to pull away with little effect.

"Oh, I think we're rather alike, actually." Increasingly familiar hand finds curve of back, hips grinding against mine. Grip on lapels loosen involuntarily.

No. "Isn't only reason, Veidt. Wouldn't waste your time." Try again to pull self away; succeed. Stumble from swelling, watching motions closely. He stands, his posture threatening, though downplayed. Arousing; he knows. Don't understand attraction, but he knows how to taunt. Shouldn't know what I want more than myself. Maybe he's right. Adrian Veidt preys upon me; Should be flattered.

Takes a step forward; step backward. He paces towards me; hold ground. His shoulders are moving in rhythm with his steps. Can see through his clothing. Heavy clothing suddenly unbearable.

He stops in front of me, looming; eyes are treacherous and entrancing. Reaches up slowly and unfastens the buttons of my overcoat. Not sure why I let him. Coat is suddenly off shoulders and holding me hostage. Spin around and meet glass. Cold and hard seems to be a motif of Veidt's. Stare down at the still shaded pavement as it calls for me; an unorthodox escort to the underworld.

Feel glass seep through gloves, still icy from early hours, sun tenderly lapping away the cold like an expensive whore. Apologetic hands snake around my body, quick to unfasten the choking hold my pants have over the heat in my loins. Supple skin frees me; still so far away from escape. A hand is firm on my back, the other contradictory, stroking out nervous breaths that are entangled by the gripping chill of the window.

"Yes. That's it Rorschach--show this city your true nature." Stare out at buildings below, littered with people. Sirens ring below, hardly touching Veidt's utopia in the sky. Wince and press back. Resistance met with a harder push and leg between my own. Could feel his disciplined urges against me. "I wonder who's watching you now. Can you see their faces?"

Whisked away from window and thrown against desk, staring out at breaking clouds. Caught before I slide to the floor, hips heavy against mine and the sharp edge of the lacquered wood behind me. "I would rather have you to myself." Hand pulls scarf away from neck, silken lips its replacement. Hand on primal swelling, delicate in its attention. Forced to grab edge of desk to stay standing.

Hand buries itself under layers of clothing, burrowing farther up stomach to chest; his hands are hot, but thoughtful. No mistakes. "What's your motive, Veidt?" Hard to form words, but force self too. Let him do what he wants if it means answers.

"My motive? A phone call would have sufficed for your intentions. I think we both know what we really want." Hard squeeze causes breath to hitch.

"Can... have anyone you want, Veidt. Why me?" Hips involuntary push forward.

"Which is precisely my problem," he whispered against my neck. "I am still a man despite my afflictions; like I said, I live for a challenge. Women and men fall at a mere affectionate gesture. You though... oh... I'm still living a dream, having you like this. The disdain, the animosity. It makes me want to live; to touch you every moment, accepted or not." His breath quiver's more with every word. Could feel the tightness in his stomach, his body hot. and breath hotter against my skin.

A trick? Can't tell if he's lying. Not enough blood in head to think clearly. Even so, submission isn't what he's after. Proven well earlier. Grind against him again at thought, breath heavy against inside of face.

Loud banging on doors. "Rorchach, this is the police. We're willing to negotiate your surrender for the release of Adrian Veidt."

"They want to negotiate your surrender," heated kiss on neck, fingertips light over chest.

"Not going to prison." Lean back against desk more and keep self up as hands clumsily fiddle with Veidt's zipper.

"Ambitious today. Fearing the death penalty?" Assists my hesitance in withdrawing his eager member.

"Told you, not going to prison." Press self against him in hopes of inciting quicker action before door breaks.

Pounding on door lighter than in chest. "Please, allow me a moment," he called to them. Some time bought. Hesitation in front room. Veidt presses hard flesh to mine, hand tight around both. Grinding motion and hand braced against desk cause expected sensation of authority from Veidt. Unfortunately, can't say I don't like it. Maybe he's right; always seems to know more about me than comfortable.

Breathe hard against face, head tipped back, thoughts blurring into nonsense. Clothes feel like fire-blanket not doing its job. Cool lips on neck, hips bucking like rutting stags. My hands find the treasure that is his skin under the carbon mines of clothing, the leather of my gloves, for once, intolerably distant. Remove them behind his back and hungrily search the topography of flesh.

Nature has changed so drastically over the past year; can't help but think its less superficial than it seems. Find my concern ebbing in relation to the tight heat in my loins. Hands run up his chest with another loud bang on the door.

Sounds seem to echo through the room amongst the whispered pants. Fingers tighten against his sculpted chest as muscles convulse. Hot breath against exposed neck. "Oh, Rorschach, I love how you touch me." Feel disgust rise and an unfortunate side effect of Veidt's voice on me. Body tightens under vocal command and warm ribbons slick our flesh as they're suppressed by his fingertips.

Brief continued friction as Veidt finds his release. Mind spins and continued stimulation is almost unpleasant, but ends long before my body rejects his personal advances. More pounding on door and unintelligible shouting. Square of cloth in place of Veidt's presence. "You should leave." Eyes indicate stressed lock on door.

Reassemble clothing poorly and grab hat, looking around for an escape. "I hope you brought your gun." He stares smugly out of the window. "Unless you would like to revisit Karnak." Face shifts slowly at him. Take out grappling gun and shoot through window, watching glass fall like rain. Retrieve hook quickly and attach it to one of the framing bars.

Give one last glance to Veidt before doors break open and police rush in. Jump and swing down through lower level window, taking the stairs down. Bad idea in retrospect as I run into a few police. Stairs not good friends of riot police. Easy jump over their bodies and quick run down to first level.

Don't bother with opening front doors and run down street back to abandoned house.

Can't wait for Dreiburg to ask me how it went.

{{Hope you enjoy. You can blame my friends for not letting me get this out sooner seeing as how the cockfags incessantly distract me while I'm trying to write. I hope this didn't lose its quality because I spent most of the time not able to think. I may revise it later. Thank you again for the support and reviews. They help keep my spirits up.}}