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The Dangers of Boredom
Blake did not appreciate being woken up by way of his body pillow, aka Bane, twisting his warm and surprisingly comfortable body to the side so that Blake tumbled off the alpha's chest and went face first into the ground. That was not how you woke someone up even if they hadn't spent the night getting you off. Which he had, thank you very much. He had the sore ass to prove it. And that was another checkmark in the negative column, since Blake knew that he was going to be spending the majority of the day sitting uncomfortably on said ass. To add further insult to injury there was the fact that there was no toilet, toilet paper, shower, or privacy waiting for him outside the tent either.
And then it was time to eat cardboard crap again.
Seething silently through it all, there was nothing he could do to change his situation, after all, Blake took it like a man and just stewed in his spot in the car once it was time for their journey across the mother fucking desert to begin again.
Being trapped in a vehicle with nothing to do was a form of torture too, Blake thought and mentally fumed over for the first hour or so, ridiculously bored already. It just got worse and worse the farther into the desert they got. And today was even hotter than the last. And Simon and the old man were too close to him, and the air conditioning in the damn vehicle was crap, and all this silence was as grating as nails on a fucking chalkboard at this point. Would it kill them to play some music? Get into an argument about world politics or the latest celebrity scandal?
Hell, at this point he'd even get into a debate about which Hollywood actress had the best breasts to break the silence, and he couldn't have cared less. Or noticed, really, so he'd be useless in the debate, but at least talking would be involved.
And okay, he could try and start a conversation, Blake knew that. Only perversely he wanted someone to talk to him first. To acknowledge him.
Simon, fortunately for him, had enough sense to know that Blake was pissed off and was likely to explode on the first person who dared ask him how he was or what he might want to talk about.
Huffing out a breath, Blake considered seeing what would happen if he started to sing '99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall'. Or better yet, be really mean and sing 'The Song That Doesn't Ends' from 'Lambchop's Play Along'. Now that would be real torture in Bane and Barsad's books. See how they liked it.
Or he could ask if they were there yet every thirty seconds or so until his voice gave out. Though lets be real, they'd knock him unconscious or just shoot him and leave him for the vultures long before that happened.
Still, imaging their reactions had a reluctant chuckle escaping Blake's lips as they curved in evil amusement.
"What?"
Glancing over at Simon with the smile still in place, Blake asked him if he wanted to sing 'The Song That Doesn't End' with him.
"They'd shoot us."
"If the bullet didn't kill us it would be like that scene in 'Major Payne'. A little something to take our mind off our current pain. Or extreme boredom in this case."
"What?"
"Right. Too young to get that reference." God, he felt old. "Basically there's this scene in the beginning of the movie where the title character comes across a soldier who's been shot in the arm. He asks the man if he wants him to show him a trick for taking his mind off the pain in his arm. Then he breaks the man's finger, to make the injured guy focus on that instead."
Simon considered this for a moment. "That makes no sense."
"True."
"Though I suppose a broken finger is better than being shot in the arm depending on what part was hit."
"Also true."
"Do you want me to break your finger to take your mind off your boredom? Because I'd really rather not. And Bane wouldn't like it."
From the driver's seat Barsad snorted, while Bane glanced back once to give them a look that silently conveyed that the only one who would be breaking bones any time soon would be him. And then he went back to ignoring them.
Studying his thankfully unbroken fingers, Blake sighed again over what he'd been reduced to before asking Simon if he wanted to play rock, paper, scissors.
Since that was better than breaking Blake's fingers, Simon agreed to play.
But they were grown men who weren't actually competing for something, so that only entertained Blake for about seven minutes or so. And Simon was happy to stop because despite being an alpha, Simon didn't have the competitive instincts that were stereotypically of an alpha. If someone was better than him at something Simon really didn't care and shrugged it off better than anyone Blake knew. An excellent quality in an alpha, Blake mused, which was essentially wasted on the younger man because Simon thought omegas too emotional and touchie feelie, and had sworn off dating or sex last time he'd checked.
And he was back to being bored again.
With only his hands to play with.
Which of course got him to thinking about playing with himself, aka jacking off, which was something he was most definitely not going to be doing to alleviate his boredom, but thinking about it did occupy him for a while. Sex was always nice to think about, particularly since he was getting a lot of it even if Bane really did need to learn the meaning of the word foreplay. Seriously.
But Blake had fun thinking about it right up until Simon leaned over a little and murmured that he needed to rein in his hormones before the others noticed.
The boy had a sensitive nose, which Bane did not, and the other two were Betas so the fact that there was a hint of his true nature in his scent when he was aroused wouldn't really register with them, but Blake took the hint and tried to think of something else he could possibly do to past the time. Without annoying the other occupants of the car too much. While having zero access to paper, writing utensils, or really anything but himself.
"Bane? Can Simon and I have thumb wars?"
Bane didn't even turn in his seat to look at him as he asked what that was.
"We fight with our thumbs. Which requires some skin contact. But none from the wrist down."
Simon looked at him. "Do we have to?"
"Dude. We used to room together. You do remember how bitchy I can be when I'm bored or in a pissy mood, much less both, right?" Just because Umbra took away the outward physical signs he was an omega didn't change the fact that it was in his nature to be a Grade A bitch when displeased with his alpha. And Bane had definitely decided to start the day in the dog house. Even if the big lug was probably too dense to realize it.
A loud sigh. "Okay. I'll play."
Earning a small brownie point, Bane agreed to let them thumb war.
Which was somewhat more entertaining, but not by much as it turned out. Especially since Simon basically let him win because the alpha didn't care about the game or winning in the slightest. Ergo, Blake knew that he had to come up with something that Simon did care about winning before he got really frustrated and snapped at the only friend he had at the moment. Which narrowed it down to just one possibility.
"All right, all right. No more thumb wars. I challenge you to the alphabet game. Names of famous singers in full. First names to start. You in?"
)
Objectively Blake knew that Simon was good looking. Not his type of course, too pretty and not nearly bulky enough, but Blake knew that Simon's face was a work of genetic art. And when it came to music, to being given the chance to sing or talk about anything related to music, Simon went from seriously good looking to a degree of gorgeousness that lit up the alpha's whole face and had made more than a hundred jaws drop and people walk into solid objects over they ears. Before they'd been in the helicopter, and Simon did not like enclosed spaces or heights. Safe on the ground, and with a chance to school someone with his knowledge of music, Simon was focused and blinding in his joy.
Naturally Simon also went first.
"Aretha Franklin." "Beyoncé Knowles." "Celine Dion." "Diana Ross." "Ella Fitzgerald." "Freddy Mercury."
"Technical Freddie Mercury was born Farrokh Bulsara, but I'll let that go." Simon told him condescendingly. "Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou, professionally known as George Michael. You have H."
"Shit."
He was not going to be stumped already, but seriously, what names even started with H? The first name that came to mind was Harry…oh. One Direction. So not his thing or generation, but Blake had paid some attention to this particular band member because he was going to be in a WWII movie with Tom Hardy soon, who he did love. But what was his late name…
"Harry Styles!"
"Harry Styles? Really?"
"Don't judge me. Your generation is to blame for their popularity, not mine."
Simon nodded in sad acknowledgement of that fact. "Izear Luster "Ike" Turner, Jr."
"Janet Jackson." "Kelly Clarkson." "Leona Lewis." "Madonna Louise Ciccone." "Nancy Sinatra."
Back and forth they went until they got to the U, which of course Blake got stuck with instead of Simon. And Usher didn't work because there was no way that was his actual first name. And of course Simon probably knew of some obscure singer who actually had a name starting with U like Ursula or that American general from the Civil War who became president for a while.
So he lost the first round, much to Simon's satisfaction, especially when he informed him that Usher Raymond IV was Usher's actual name, so yes, he counted.
Dammit.
"Band names?"
Sighing, but still in, Blake started with Areosmith.
)
By the time they stopped for lunch Blake was parched and they'd run through singers, band names, famous song titles, types of instruments, musical numbers, Disney songs, and the first two done over with no Americans allowed. Simon won them all. And was still raring to go, only the last twenty minutes of the car ride had been spent with the alpha offering topics related to music that there was no way in hell Blake was even going to try to play because he had enough pride not to want to lose only a few letters in.
So Simon was a little annoyed about that, but still visibly happy to have played.
Which had Blake a little worried, because for possibly the first time Bane's people were seeing Simon really happy and a lot of the betas were drying out their tongues by somewhat discretely panting in the oblivious, but gorgeous young alpha's direction. Which the other alphas weren't appreciating one little bit except for the ones who were eyeing Simon with new interest too. Alphas didn't generally fuck around with other alphas, too many dominance issues in one bed, but seasoned ones who liked it rough occasionally talked the younger, yet to truly come into their dominant nature ones into their bed.
If he had to start worrying about protecting Simon's ass on top of his own Blake was going to be seriously pissed off again. Especially since it would mean giving up one of his few advantages, which was that no one here knew he'd personally been trained by Bruce Wayne for years, and therefore was more than capable of going head to head with most of them. Not Bane, of course, but the others he'd at least stand a fighting chance depending on the circumstances.
Though Barsad…Barsad might do his job for him.
The beta wasn't being obvious, or at least wasn't doing anything Blake could call him on, but there was something about the way the man looked at Simon, and seemed to be cataloging Simon's admirers along with him, that made Blake think he might have an ally in Bane's second. At least in this.
Simon would be the biggest problem.
Because of the way he was wired Simon was pretty much oblivious to not only his own appeal, but to the interest others had in him. That meant that someone could be coming on to the kid and Simon would have no clue unless the person got physical or was very blunt in their interest. And Simon, being Simon, would turn them down just as bluntly, not to be cruel but just because Simon was not the beat around the bush sort when offered something he didn't want. And heaven help them all if Simon told the story of why he'd sworn off sex in the first place.
That only made them want him more.
And since they were once again sitting alone, with no one close enough to hear, Blake got straight to the point once they'd sat down to eat their disgusting bars, grateful that Bane had made it clear they were to be left alone.
"Simon. You're still doing the celibate thing, right?"
"Yes."
"But these men are Bane's. They wouldn't know that, right?"
Simon shrugged. "I told four of them no so far. The nice thing about these people is that they're really blunt, so I know they want me to fuck them."
Choking a little on the bar, and only partially because of the taste, Blake nodded. That would help.
"And they're okay with that?"
"The one's still being annoying, but none of them were violent, which is nice. I don't like being slapped or punched."
"If any of them get physical, or threaten to hurt you, you come to me, okay?"
"Just like old times."
"Just like old times."
"You do realize that I have been with the League for years. I might think they're crazy, but I have learned from them. I'm not that easy to take down."
"No. But you aren't violent by nature, and there isn't a vicious bone in your body. There will be in theirs, and that will give them an advantage."
"True." Simon sighed. "Why are most people so obsessed with having sex with each other? It's not like God didn't give them two hands if one is broken or not enough."
This time Blake spewed nutrition bar. Not that that was a waste of the crap.
"I know you explained, but it still doesn't make sense to me."
"You liked sex, remember? It was the rest of it that put you off it."
Simon made a face.
"Nevermind. Just tell them you're asexual and hopefully they know what that means."
Another sigh of agreement was Simon's answer.
)
The rest of the car riding for the day passed in relative silence since Blake had plans to keep Simon safe to occupy him and Simon had been challenged to see how many singers he could name for each letter of the alphabet. Which he did in his head at Blake's suggestion, only saying the number once he'd come to the end of each one. The other three were silent as always, which had Blake wondering if at some point in the League's training these guys had had to take a vow of silence and had never quite let go of the mindset even when they were allowed to talk again.
When they reached the latest campsite that night, which he'd been told would be their last, thank God, Blake was also intrigued by the rock formations that started to pop up with more regularity the closer they got to wherever they were going.
Looking at them in the dim light the moon provided, Blake would have been tempted to try and climb them to work the kinks out of his body if he wasn't so sure he'd just end up breaking something in the dark. Or stung by something. Deserts meant scorpions. He was pretty sure.
Settling for stretching inside the tent, it would have to do until he had the chance to continue his training within four walls and without an audience, Blake prayed that happened soon before he became as weak as the rest of them thought he was.
And of course he was resting on his upper chest with his legs bent up and over so that his feet were touching the top of his head when Bane walked into the tent after his usual powwow with his men.
"Hi."
Bane tilted his head ever so slightly. "You are surprisingly flexible."
"Tomorrow, when there's a bed and I've had a shower, I'd be happy to show you just how flexible I can be." Slowly, he had been a car all day and the last thing he wanted was an unexpected cramp crippling him in front of Bane, Blake brought his legs back down.
"What do you mean?"
Pausing for a moment, and then finishing straightening his legs so that he could stand up again, Blake wasn't entirely sure how to answer that. He was pretty sure what he was implying was pretty obvious, but Bane was…odd, too, when it came to sex.
"I meant that if you wanted, I could show you the advantages of sharing a bed with someone with my flexibility." Self-preservation instincts and knowledge of alpha sized egos had Blake tacking on that he loved Bane fucking him from behind, and had just been offering.
The last thing he needed was Bane thinking he was complaining.
Thankfully Bane didn't look insulted. There was interest in those striking eyes, if Blake wasn't mistaken.
Sweet.