A/N: I actually started this as a more or less serious dark!Alex piece, and then it kind of turned into smutty crack... oh well, I guess that can't be helped when you're writing a Lady Gaga Songfic xD Also, since it's forbidden to quote the lyrics, I inserted linebreaks instead and I'll let you figure out which verse(s) go where ;)
Warning: dark!Alex, kind of violent/edgy
Disclaimer: The monster ate the contract that confirmed my ownership of Alex Rider, so I guess I still own nothing. And credits for the song go to Lady Gaga of course.
Monster
I've never seen one like that before
Alex Rider fights with as little effort as he shows mercy. He has been doing this for years now, and Ben has been looking on all the while. He has witnessed him changing from someone stumbling into fights, messy and emotional and young, to someone aiming, perhaps even enjoying to kill. Lethal.
With his breath stuck in his throat, Ben watches and worries that the should-still-be boy's perfection is coming to border on insanity. The young spy dances around the edge, tiptoes around a razor-blade, something savage and arresting pounding behind dull brown eyes.
Another enemy sacks to his knees, eyes wide and blood trickling from a wound on his temple. He hits the ground and lies motionless while Alex spins away gracefully, his elegance reminding Ben too much of Yassen Gregorovich and too little of the boy who went to an SAS camp once upon a time – and once upon a time is a fairy tale resounding faintly in his mind. Today, there is only blood and gore and morbid fascination.
ooo
Ben's knees almost buckle when Alex strides towards him, hair tousled and breath heavy. His face is speckled with crimson red, his hands carry the traces of the lives he has taken. Ben knows nothing as scary, nothing as tainted and nothing quite as erotic as the young man in front of him.
The worst thing is, Alex knows. Alex knows about Ben's dark longing, his leaden gazes and the wandering hands in feverish dreams. He knows that Ben is tempted to play with something more dangerous than fire. So Alex offers the bare skin of his neck to greedy stares, throws coy glances from beneath glittering eyelashes and sways his narrow hips just so. Ben thinks, feels, that it is sheer madness. And he is terrified. It takes all the willpower he has to refrain from giving in.
ooo
Alex strides through the hallways of the bank with the confidence and determination of someone who has done so for at least half his life – and if he survives another eight years doing what he does, that comparison will actually hold true. None of the employees they pass – secretaries, tech staff and field agents alike – raise their eyes to meet Alex's, afraid of the cold dark madness residing there – afraid of that very same madness that Ben cannot free himself from.
Had he been younger and more naive, had he gathered less experience in lying and cheating and playing the killing game, Ben might have called his connection to Alex some kind of hopeless devotion – but he is not a starry-eyed fool anymore, he knows that there are no red threads, but that there are handcuffs, and if he was not afraid to name it he would call it lust, desire, incurable addiction.
Holding the door to Jones' office open for him in a grotesque parody of gallantry, Alex once again captures him in his wild gaze. He makes a gesture with his hand that looks incredibly lewd for a simple signal to hurry up. Ben has to make an effort not to stumble.
ooo
Alex leers at Jones, talking in a condescending, arrogant tone that no other agent would ever even think about using when called to the head's office. He never sits down when she asks him to, though he does lean against the table, half-draping himself over it whenever she does not offer him a seat. He is provocative, always playing power games, showing her that even though technically she is his superior, she would be nothing – or, well, maybe dead – without him.
Ben knows how much he revels in his self-importance, in a nearly violent manner that would have made him despise himself just six years ago. The boy Ben had once saved from the jungle and taken a bullet for has been gone long since. The boy Ben might have fallen in love with has vanished. In his place there is a predator, a full grown bird of prey, and Ben feels like he is going to be devoured without mercy – he knows, actually, and he cannot go on denying it, but he might not, will not, survive admitting it. Some part of him will have to die, Ben is sure that this will cost him his morals, his sanity, and every little bit of self-esteem that he had left.
ooo
Ben keeps on stealing glances, utterly fascinated and irrevocably stuck by Alex's sick grace, and with every one of those glances, his vision seems to blur a little more. He is starting to forget about the words right and wrong, he has long since forgotten about the colours black and white. The world is a dark grey and he longs, yearns for that sliver of silver ecstasy that is dangling right before his eyes, just out of reach, until he finally breaks the chains holding him down and accepts the rough rope Alex uses to tie his hands to the bedpost.
Alex makes Ben taste the fine line between pain and pleasure, makes him sway from one to the other and back. Fingernails digging deep enough into Ben's bare skin to draw blood, he bites at his shoulder, teeth grazing over his neck, red-tinged lips stretching into a wide grin with the feeling of utter control, and growing even more violent when Ben moans and gasps desperately, fighting against the new restraints on his hands like he only just realises what he is doing – like he is trying to wake up from a nightmare. But there is no escape, and Alex tells him just that. The words alone are almost enough to make Ben topple over the edge and into white static oblivion.
ooo
When Ben notices that the employees at the bank have started to avoid eye-contact with him as well, he is not shocked in the least – in fact, it does not affect him at all. He is too far gone, too tangled, too corrupted – and he enjoys it way too much. He has stopped to care and instead cherishes the depravity of his addiction to sex, to pain, to the monster called Alex Rider.
He ate my heart and then he ate my brain
A/N: Um, yeah... I'll go hide in a corner now and feel ashamed of myself for having written this. I just really had to get the idea out of my system xD