A/N: Virtually Reality…almost reality, but not quite. That's why Fayt's pretty much himself and Albel is waaaaaaaaay OOC….at least in the beginning. But there is a method to the madness. Albel has to be OOC so he can be himself later. Please don't kill me for butchering his character…I'll promise…I'll give it back. Be patient and the homicidal maniac will be returned to his normal self after 2 or 3 chapters…hopefully.
Disclaimer: I do not own this and do no make money off of this…and pfft, if I really owned Albel, he and Fayt would be locked in a closet together and I'd be passed out on the floor with a nosebleed…so, I think it's safe to say I don't own them and I never will or should.
Fayt stood nervously in the line at the front counter, wishing he could disappear. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Everyone else looked dirty and perverted. Fayt didn't really belong here. His eyes flicked around nervously, hoping no one respectable would see him in such a place.
"First time in a virtual parlor?" a voice asked.
Fayt nearly jumped and he quickly returned his gaze to the counter and the ratty clerk standing behind it.
The man grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. "Flighty little thing, aren't you? So young, so afraid of the world. Don't know how you got in here, but it'll sure do good for you."
Fayt chewed his bottom lip anxiously. "Can I just get a room and go?"
The man leered at Fayt. "I don't know if you're able to operate the equipment. You look a little too young to me. Sure you don't want to try with a real man first?"
Fayt shuddered internally and placed his hands on the counter. 'Please, just give me a room,' he said with quiet desperation.
"Sure, kid. Here's the keys, knock yourself out."
Fayt took the keys and headed down the hall into the nearest door. He closed the door behind him and the edges disappeared smoothly into a blank wall. The room was average sized with a small bed in one corner and a dingy couch on the opposite wall. But what interested Fayt the most was the machine in the center of the room.
It was built like a car engine with a flat-screen computer monitor attached using various wires. A keyhole was built into the back of the monitor. The machine whirred softly, waiting for Fayt's use. Fayt bit his lip, unsure of trusting something that looked so unstable, but at last he gave into curiosity.
He inserted the key into the keyhole and turned it to the right. The monitor flickered to life with a display of rates and payment options. Fayt stared at the hourly and daily prices, marveling at anyone who would be able to last for a whole day.
The machine beeped once, prompting input from him. Fayt sighed heavily and tentatively rested a finger on the option for a two hour session duration. The screen switched off and brought up a new screen about payment options, for which Fayt selected credit. The machine displayed the total amount for Fayt to verify and then automatically deducted it from his account. Fayt sighed in relief. The boring part was finally over.
The computer monitor unfolded into three flat screens with various pictures and lists of different qualities and characteristics. Fayt was finally to the real thing.
Virtual parlors were generally looked down as places of immorality and debauchery. It was probably true. Most people went there to have sex without the consequences. One could come up with an endless combination of lovers and indulge in whatever kinks or perversions not accepted in normal society. If one wanted to rape a young girl, molest a child, have sex with several people at once, it was all there in the virtual parlor. And it was all allowed to prevent the real thing.
Fayt didn't consider himself a pervert or a pedophile. He was just a shy boy. He was afraid of people, afraid of relationships, afraid of rejection. A virtual lover would never reject him if Fayt programmed him properly.
Fayt skimmed briefly over the physical characteristics section. Looks didn't matter that much to Fayt. Of course, he wouldn't want anyone scarred or horribly disfigured or out of proportion. There were several sections to either choose a specific or desired range of heights, weights, skin colors, hair colors, eye colors, body types…everything Fayt could ever want to program and some things that he felt were totally unnecessary.
What Fayt really cared about was his lover's personality. He had to be gentle enough to calm Fayt's fears, but he couldn't be too gentle or he would be boring. He would have to be patient and wait until Fayt was willing to submit to a relationship between them. Fayt was wary and shy like a wounded animal and reluctant to trust anyone. However, once his trust was gained, he was extremely loyal.
Fayt finished his selections and tapped up information about himself: age, height, physical qualities, his identification number. The machine displayed a message telling him to wait while his information was processed. Fayt stared at the wall with vague disinterest as the machine spat out his receipt.
Suddenly Fayt felt hot breath on the back of his neck. He whirled around with a startled shriek.
The man looked equally surprised to see Fayt. "Oh, I didn't think anyone was in here." He frowned at Fayt thoughtfully, his intelligent ruby eyes scanning Fayt's body.
Fayt turned pink and backed away, clutching his hands to his chest. His heart hammered in his throat. "How-how did you get in here?"
"Through the door," the man said calmly, gesturing absently towards the wall. A strand of dark shoulder-length hair fell forward as he dipped his head to one side, still inspecting Fayt.
"What door?" Fayt demanded, feeling a sickening panic rise in his stomach. He was going to get raped and there was no way out of it.
The man glanced at the wall where the door had disappeared. "Oh. Hmn, I could have sworn there was a door here. I had to get in with one, didn't I? Oh well, either way, I'm stuck here now." He flopped down on the couch as an afterthought held out his hand to Fayt. "Might as well make the best of things. I'm Albel Nox and I'll be your roommate tonight." He smiled at Fayt, wishing to put him at ease.
Fayt inched over to Albel slowly, not getting too close, but close enough to take his hand. He looked down at the small black numbers stamped on the back of Albel's hands like a tattoo. 'What's this?"
Albel looked faintly surprised. "Well, that's interesting. I wonder when I got that."
Fayt paced worriedly. "This is getting weird."
Albel scooted to the edge of the couch and pointed to something on the floor that he couldn't quite reach while sitting. "Is that your paper?"
Fayt picked it up, noticing that it was his receipt. He glanced at the information about cost and the session number printed at the bottom in large numbers: 76744436821. Fayt glanced back at Albel with a peaceful sigh. The same number was printed on the back of Albel's wrist. He was virtual.
Fayt settled back into the couch, trying to hide his unbelievable relief.
Albel smiled. "Not so tense anymore? Good. I won't bite, I promise. And we won't be locked in here forever."
"Really, I don't mind being in here," Fayt quickly assured him, not wanting Albel to think it was torture to be with him.
"Good." Albel scooted closer to Fayt and ruffled his hair. He didn't seem to notice Fayt's unconscious shiver. Albel had already lost interest in Fayt's hair and had turned to look at the ceiling. "Hmn, there's got to be a vent somewhere."
Fayt huddled in the far corner of the couch, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. This was not going to work. He had failed. Albel was too uninterested in him. He sighed unhappily.
Albel immediately looked over at Fayt with concern. "Are you alright?" He cocked his head to one side. "What's your name? You remind me of someone."
"Fayt Leingod." Fayt drew his knees up to his chin.
Albel shrugged. "Nothing to do except talk. There's no use us sitting here like strangers the whole time. I'll start. I'm Albel. I like listening to rock, heavy metal, death metal, uhh…" he paused in the middle of ticking things off on his fingers and shrugged cheerfully. "I like just about anything except classical music and country music. Er…what else? Oh yeah, I play the electric guitar, I love soccer, I love the beach, I…" He paused and looked at Fayt hesitantly. "I'm gay. That doesn't scare you, does it?"
"Of course not," Fayt murmured calmly. "I'm gay too."
Albel grinned. "That's cool. I might have to go out with you sometime." He winked at Fayt cheekily.
Fayt let out a loud frustrated groan at the stupidity of the whole situation.
Albel misinterpreted Fayt's reaction and quickly added, 'Not right now, of course. I barely know you."
Fayt sighed. 'I'm Fayt. After my parents died I developed social anxiety disorder and became a looser." He held up an L shape to his forehead and slumped forward over the arm of the couch. He felt so miserable. He shouldn't have come.
"Can I touch you?' Albel asked quietly, scooting closer to Fayt.
"Sure," Fayt said sulkily, resenting the earlier hair ruffle.
Albel wrapped his arms around Fayt and pulled him into his chest. Fayt suddenly felt about to cry.
"It's okay," Albel said soothingly, rubbing his hand over Fayt's back. "You just need someone to love you. You just need a friend."
"I need more than a friend," Fayt wailed.
Albel smirked. "I know, I know. But let's not rush things. I don't want to turn into a one-night stand."
Fayt sighed. "But won't you worry about never seeing me again?"
Albel shrugged. "We were meant to be together. That's how we found each other and that's how we'll find each other again." He held Fayt closely and kissed his cheek.
Fayt blushed and relaxed into Albel's arms. Albel's fingers trailed down Fayt's chest. "Some other time, love. I can't wait to see you again."
Fayt was startled when Albel vanished. The machine beeped, signaling that his session was over. With a disappointed sigh, Fayt got up and pulled out the keys. The door reappeared for him to walk through.
The man at the desk seemed hurt that Fayt's clothes were still neat. "No sex?' he said unhappily.
Fayt smiled and gently laid the keys on the desk. "Sorry. Maybe next time."