Who: Aidrian When: 5pm 6/22/08 Where: Illusion, storage rooms What: He got called in to help with some organizing of the stored alcohol, and things got a little ugly Status: Complete Rating: R to be safe, sexual harassment, language
It was taking effort to control his temper and it'd only been a few hours or so. Normally he could ignore Tom's attitude with a minimum of gritted teeth and irritation. But the murmured comments about how he looked when reaching for a box on the upper shelf, or how Tom's hands always ended up nowhere near his when the man was supposed to be helping him with part of the alcohol sorting they were doing...he didn't have the patience for it. He didn't work Sundays, was supposed to be home with Andi, curled on the couch. The fact that Izzy had called the previous night continued to bug him. Because it meant that Raksha could not. Which meant something was wrong. Although he trusted his instincts enough to know that if had been truly life or death, he'd know. Either way, he wanted to be there making sure his contradictory twin was in fact alright. But instead, under the pressure of working under the table and thus a threat of being fired if he balked too much at extra hours, he was stuck here. In Illusion's back rooms, sorting alcohol and taking stock of what numbers needed to be changed on their supply orders.
Stuck here with the one manager that seemed to think that if he pushed enough, Aidrian would sleep with him. Not bloody likely, he thought, restraining the urge to break the bottle of Smirnoff Blueberry vodka in his hands over Tom's head. He knew another irritating moment was imminent when the sharp tang of Tom's aftershave made his nose sting. It might have been attractive and refreshing if he didn't have the panther's sense of smell. Then again, there was no scent that would make that male attractive. "You know, it's not really necessary to follow dress code so strictly on off-hours," Tom's voice sounded uncomfortably close to his ear. His hands tightened on the bottle, claws scraping the glass briefly, though Tom didn't notice. He was hyper-aware of the managers body in his personal space, felt the body heat heightened by desire even through the heavy cotton of his shirt.
"I prefer to maintain the correct appearance at all times when at work," Aidrian snapped, unable to keep his temper out of his tone as much he'd intended. Which would only tell Tom how much it got to him. That was satisfaction he never wanted the older male to have. Swallowing a growl, he started to move away and found himself blocked, a set of shelves at his back. He could have gotten past Tom easily. That was the irony of the whole situation. But to do that would get him in trouble and attract attention he definitely didn't need. Some days it drove him nuts that he had to pretend to be like everyone else. He gave the man a level look and held up the bottle in one hand, "I need to put this away, if you'll excuse me." Polite, barely. Trying not to make the situation explode. He moved again, intending to step past Tom. Until a hand larger than his pressed against one hip, thumb digging beneath the waistband of the black cargos he wore. There was no shock, only fury. It wasn't the first time it'd happened. He'd lost count how many now. But it was going to be the last.
Redirecting the desire to wipe the faintly leering smile of the manager's face, he grabbed the exploring hand instead, fingers digging in untilt he bones protested. Still gripping Tom's hand, he stepped back and to the side, keeping it from following his movements. "Do. Not. Touch. Me." Releasing the hand he moved around, half intending to just walk out and get fresh air or something. Instinct warned him a half second too late for the arm that snaked around his waist. A low growl that Tom probably didn't quite hear vibrated in his throat when he was pulled back against the manager's body, scenting the human male's desire. And the damn hand was back, sliding over his groin. Without thinking Aidrian dug an elbow into the vulnerable flesh just above Tom's belt. With a sound of air being knocked out of his lungs and a groan of pain, the man released him.
Pulling away, Aidrian didn't stop until he was out of grabbing distance, muscles trembling in fury. Tom glared at him, a hand over the spot Aidrian had elbowed, anger in his eyes. "You can't do that!" Tom all but yelled at him, "You're gonna be in trouble if you don't cooperate." There was real threat in the tone but Aidrian didn't care. He was sick of this and while he needed a job, there was a limit to what he was willing to put up with.
"Cooperate with you feeling me up you mean?" Aidrian held his ground as he spoke, the feel of the hands on his body too fresh. "I was employed as a bartender, not your personal whore," he snapped back, taking another step away, then turning and heading for the door.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"I quit," he hissed over his shoulder, not bothering to stop. He'd find something else. Other places needed bartenders. He had the training and skill now.
"You can't fucking quit! Two weeks."
Aidrian whirled around long enough to glare at him, the panther's full intensity behind it and was rewarded with a faint flicker of unease on Tom's part. "Yes. I can. You can shove the two weeks." With that he turned for the door again, half wanting to turn and shift and shred the asshole's face off.
A murmured comment turned his blood to ice. He wasn't positive he was supposed to catch it, but there wasn't anything to stop his acute hearing from picking it up.
At least I still have the willing brother.
It took every bit of his control to stop at the door, hand gripping the door frame until the knuckles whitened. He couldn't turn and look, didn't want to see Tom's expression. "Raksha wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole," he growled, without really thinking, fury rising at the thought of the bastard touching Raksha like that. A hint of fear because he wasn't entirely sure what his twin's reaction would have been.
"But he has," Tom's smug voice floated towards him and Aidrian froze, "He liked it when I touched him, you could see it in his eyes, how they turn a darker gold." Aidrian wanted to block his ears, but the leering voice continued, "When I took him like the pretty slut he is."
Emotions in turmoil, Aidrian refused to reply and stalked out of the storage room, kept walking until he was outside, barely aware of the fresh air. Tom's touch haunted him, the comment about Raksha scared him. Scared him because he wasn't sure it was a lie. He knew what Raksha was like, had seen the evidence of and reactions to the violent dominance his twin sometimes sought out. Remembered Raksha promising to take care of things when he'd first mentioned what Tom was up to. What the bastard had said was plausible. Frighteningly plausible. He didn't know if Raksha would have gone that far, especially with how much Izzy clearly meant to him. Feeling balanced on a knife's edge, Aidrian realized he'd have to ask, even though he was afraid the answer wasn't going to be one he liked.
But first, he had to know if his twin was alright. Turning the ignition in the Trans Am, he tugged his cell phone out and sent a message to Andi as promised, to let her know he was on his way home. He knew she'd want to go with him to check on his brother. Pulling out into traffic, he concentrated on getting home, the rest would be dealt with in time.