Sex on The Beach [wes]

Wes huffed in slight exasperation, unsure of what to do with himself.

The week had been long, much longer than he could have expected. Business had spiked severely over the weekend: Lyndon seeing an influx of shipments and along with them the vultures that sought to get by with criminally low payments. It had been safe to say the week had turned into an endless menagerie of persuasion coupled with the odd threat in the buyer’s direction. Wes barely had the time to breathe in face of so many lowlifes, much less manage to take a rest. And, as exciting the venture had been, he had to admit it had left him worn and pining for a much-needed break. As much as he enjoyed his less-than-coveted position in the world, there were times when even he required other forms of excitement.

And, really, all he sought was to dig himself into a hole and not resurface until he felt the proper satisfaction.

Thankfully, Engloria always provided though he had to admit that the usual locales he would frequent had grown rather stale. His attention flitted lazily this way and that, searching for any source that could service his needs for the night. He was growing bored and if it were not because he had rounded a corner as he did, Wes might’ve nearly missed him.

The distinct smell of cigarette had lured him in first. Second, the unmistakable black and white fashion.

Out of everyone in this world he could run into, the last he would have expected was one Sebastian Alarie. The man wasn’t unheard of and the crime boss himself would at times peruse through one or two catalogues of the man’s designs. Alarie had an eye for clothing, that much was clear. Even as Wes approached him, he had to admire his choice of outfit. For once, the red head had been underdressed for the occasion as he had chosen to wear a simple black dress shirt, dress pants and his usual choice of accessories (though his hat was strangely gone).

The fact didn’t stop him, however, as he sauntered towards the man in question.

“Rough day?”

The expression in Alarie’s face had been enough to amuse him, but his words had not been mocking. He only chuckled softly at his own words, his eyes lowering to the ground as he ran a hand through his own hair in a faux attempt to rid himself of any stray locks. It wasn’t until proper eye contact was made that he imagined seeing the semblance of a flush staining the coveted designer’s complexion, further piquing his already growing interest. Maybe it had been the shadows brought upon the post lights.

“Sorry for asking. I just couldn’t help but notice a man as finely dressed as you are – more so when they have that look about them,” letting the words hang in the air momentarily, the redhead would only gauge for a reaction.

“Like he’d tear into anyone who approached him.”

From the man’s annoyed countenance came the most unexpectedly expected reaction. Knuckles grazed against Wes’s mouth, covering the impish grin. The redhead would’ve laughed, but in face of such an esteemed man he knew better than to cut loose right away. He was used to this sort of treatment. While it was never welcomed, he’d learned how to put up with it at least. Plus, Alarie was so out of the norm that it struck him as funny. One moody checkerboard was just what he needed, it seemed like.

He shrugged. “What can I say? You’re kinda hard to ignore.” The way he’d been looked at hadn’t been lost on him either. Those grey eyes seemed to be scanning him and taking him in. Not unwelcome in the least. Anyone who wanted to size him up or check him out could feel free to. There were no qualms about it as far as he was concerned, much less if it came from someone as distinguished as the fashion designer himself. It helped that the checkerboard was easy on the eyes, too. As much as he disliked snobs, an interesting face could sometimes quell him. Not that he’d be having it, anyways. “Though with that attitude I can see why no one would… ”

“…stick around— what?” he blinked. The strength of the remark had been partially lost as the ravenette leaned over with some vague nonsense. Unflinching, there was a curious tilt of the head at his approach. Though by how his gaze flicked around it was clear he was taking in more than just those ashy blue hues. From the way his lips curled into an alluring smile to the fair visage of the man’s untainted skin and hair that nicely accentuated his face— Alarie was a smidge more than just pretty, wasn’t he.

While the man had looked like he could bite his head off just moments before, there was some merit to the sudden change in behavior. The grin that disappeared in the onset of confusion resurfaced as a softer expression. Relaxed, half-lidded eyes countered the designer’s own with a curious sort of twinkle. He dared reach up with the confidence of someone who cared little for his own well-being, and patted Alarie’s cheek like he would an old buddy.

The corner of his mouth twitched up, “Really, you gotta be a little clearer on your intentions there.”