Connections, Money and Secrets [Almaz]

[Mikhail]

So Mik was having a bit of fun. Ok, more than a bit. The adrenaline rushing through him made everything better. The room, which had been fairly dark in that way these placed preferred lseemed to have lit up. The scent of his opponent- dude with a scar on his neck- sweat and blood and some god-awful aftershave blended with vodka made his nose hairs stand up as if electrified, so strong he tasted it in the back of his throat.

The entire room felt living, pulsing, people cheering or talking or watching or whatever, each on doing their own thing, and yet one.

And Mik loved it. I mean yeah, the hits hurt. Fucking duh!  But even that was ok. He was alive. Not like he was a philosophizer. Especially when avoiding shots to the head and what not. But this was alive in a way different from when he felt the Lady's gift.

Speaking of, glancing up after one particular sharp blow that definitely broke a bone in his hand even as it connected with  scar-neck's temple, he could see the Lady out and about. Every female face that turned to him had her eyes. For just a moment anyway.

That included Oriena. Yeah, he definitely wanted to fuck her. Not as Lady Luck. As herself. He had a feeling she might be a bit of a Switch too. Dom and Sub in one. It wasn't common. 

Suddenly she was yanked out of sight- or rather, the room was, as everything went sideways. Literally. So he didn't actually feel his face hit the polished wood floors. But he sure as shit felt it like a second after. 

Neck boy must have swept a leg as he'd fallen. Which wasn't bad detective work, really, given the bit of cloud in his brains. He pushed everything away and focused and....yep, sure enough, he felt pawing as the fucker tried to climb on him pin him.

Don't get me wrong. If this was a munch or a session at the Upper Floor, he wouldn't have minded at all. But the Almaz wasn't that club. So he made his hands and arms reach out as he rolled onto his back and pull Scar-Neck up across his body into a hold. 

He fought. Of course he did. His head butted backwards and Mik's shoulder and then lip tool a hit- the latter of which filled his mouth with the iron taste of blood.

Make laughed as his arms locked into a vice, sure that his teeth were stained red. Unable to move his head, Neck boy tried kicking- bruising Mik's shins- and clawing at his arms.

It fucking hurt. Fucking hurt indeed, as he raked with his nails. But the sheer desperation fueled his laughter and dear God but it felt wonderful, so good he was hopeful he wasn't sporting a semi.

That desperate clawing against the iron vice of his arms slowed and after a moment, he fell still. Slow count of ten to make sure and Mik shoved him off, then rolled over to heave himself up. He was a bit dizy. He did face plant into the floor, after all.

He saw Jaxen over near the door talking to a blonde guy and....it seemed odd. He shook his head and stumbled for a moment. Someone caught him and for a moment, he felt a wet towel at his head, the pain sharp as it dug into him. A drink pressed to his lips- iced vodka, bless whoever it was playing nurse- and so it was maybe a minute maybe five before he saw Jaxen again, seeming to lean against the guy. 

Odd. Yeah, he wasn't wrong. It was odd. He'd flirted with Jaxen and Jaxen flirted back. But it was clear it was an act. At least that's how it seemed. He'd said as much. He wasn't into dudes. 

The way they walked off said they were going to a hot tub to do shots of Jagermeister. Which usually ended in one thing. He needed to find his clothes. Something was wrong. Maybe. Or maybe Jaxen was playing another game.

Still, he should see what was up. If he could focus on what was going on around him. He took the towel from one of the help and cleaned his face. She beckoned to an attached door where his clothes were and he could get cleaned up.