“Well, that was dramatic,” Lars said, referring to the cloud of government nanobots that had chased off the man who was probably the killer that Bernard was hunting. “I’m ready to go home now.”
“I thought you wanted to dance,” Bernard said, offering his hand cautiously, the way one might to a nearly feral cat.
“I did,” Lars said. He stood a little straighter. He brushed off nonexistent dust from his jacket sleeve and gave Bernard a stern glare. “And now I’m tired, overwhelmed, and I’m going home.”
“Maybe you’d feel better if we danced for a song? Do you prefer different music? This club is hard to get into, so enjoy it while you’re here!”
“I’ve been. I’ve enjoyed. I’m not upset with you, Bernard. I’m just tired.”
The embroidered flowers on his jacket shifted first, darkening, the the white linen of the jacket, before the darkness rippled over his cravat, up his neck, across the curves of his lips, deep into his eyes and he reach out into the music saturated night and broke upwards. Black silk wings streching wide, reflecting all the colors coming off the mirror balls and noir titanium talons added an element of foreboding.
The man who had been dancing next to Lars screamed with all he had and then fainted, obliging Bernard to catch him before he could hit the floor or any other of the dancers. The club’s security system dropped a net towards the raven, but Lars barrelrolled out of the way and swooped out the open club doors into the night.
Bernard dropped the fainted man into the waiting arms of the club’s medical staff and strode towards the door. It was true that Lars had given what he’d said he’d give, given Bernard what he’d asked for, help in drawing out and catching the killer, but somewhere in the evening, what Berard had wanted had changed. Of course, he still wanted to catch the killer and he did not believe government nanobots were going to do the trick. Exactly what were those bots going to arrest Jason for when there were no bodies left behind from his victims?
He aimed straight for the door because in his heart, he knew where he was going. He avoided Angel and the scolding she had for him, escaping into the cool evening air. A car lined up with him and opened its door smooth as he’d summoned it himself. Which he hadn’t, but he was also overwhelmed and not thinking clearly, so he just got in and muttered “Home.”
The car shut its door and merged smoothly back out into traffic. It was true that Bernard did not enjoy dancing, but he’d wanted to have Lars’ arms wrapped around his shoulders, his own arms wrapped around the small of Lars’ back, swaying together, without regard to the music, because moving to music was something Bernard could barely comprehend, let alone want.
Sitting in the car, he found himself fidgeting, his fingers rubbing over the balls of his thumbs like if he got enough strokes in, the world would make sense again. He wasn’t ace or aro, but tonight he wanted touch, wanted to look into Lars’ eyes in a way that he’d never wanted that before. He wanted to sit next to him and ask him questions, not for the answers, but just to hear the other man’s voice. He wanted to watch food disappear behind those lips.
He wanted to touch those lips, rather pale pink lips that looked so soft. His eyebrows drew down as he understood that more than just touching Lars’ lips with the tips of his own fingers, he wanted to touch his own lips to Lars’ lips.
“Would Passenger enjoy some music? Car wishes Passenger to be aware of his rising blood pressure, as this can be a sign of poor health. Would Passenger enjoy a puff of cannabis? This herb can bring relaxation and calm with minimal negative health effects. Car can provide this experience with lavender or creme brulee scent.”
“No, thank you,” Bernard snapped. “I’m fine.”
“Car would like to suggest that instead of heading directly home, Passenger might enjoy a side trip to an erotic massage club. Unsatisfied sexual urges can lead to sleep disruptions, which over time may lead to cognitive decline.”
“Car should stop offering suggestions,” Bernard said firmly. “I’m perfectly fine.”
He did have an erection, but he wasn’t going to discuss that with the car. “Some privacy would be nice.”
“The city does not want anyone to feel alone. Your problems are important and the city cares for you.”
“That’s great,” Bernard said, wishing he could readjust his pants, but completely unwilling to draw anymore attention to a problem he didn’t have any fast solution for. It wasn’t like he could just bang on Lars’ door and request oral sex. “It’s not the city that I seem to be falling in love with.”
“Are you sure,” Car asked. “London is a city like no other! It is a home and a refuge for many where freedom is universal and poverty is non-existant. The city is worthy of love.”
Bernard had grown up in London and had no desire to live anywhere else, but he also was not keen on this kind of conversation. “Why are you talking to me like this? No car has ever bothered talking to me before.”
“Because the city loves you now, Mr. Hansen. The city wants you to be happy, very happy.”
“I’m not in love with the city, Car. Now be quiet.”
The car pulled out of traffic to stop in front of the apartment building Lars and Bernard lived in. The door snapped open and Car gave one more opinion, “Rude.”
And Bernard was okay with that. He was rough, rude, and effective. He was a wolf, shaggy, snarling, and brute force, to Lars’ silk and titanium raven.
He nearly stomped up the stairs, to the fifth floor, where he walked right past his own door to bang the side of his fist on Lars’ door.
Raspberry opened the small portal set at eye hight and stared at him with intelligence that didn’t seem very artificial. “His Lordship is not receiving guests at this time.”
Bernard pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek for a moment while he processed that. “Well, tell his lordship,” he said, making it very clear the word was said with sarcasm. “that Mr. Hansen is here and would enjoy having oral sex.”
The cover to the portal snapped shut and then all there was to do was wait and see how that went over.
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