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apocalypsosTitle: It Don’t Mean A Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Ugly Betty
Rating: R
Warnings: Het incest. If you've seen "I'm Coming Out", you know which pairing I'm talking about. ;)
Summary: “I wonder if she kept it,” Daniel slurs after Betty‘s dragged him back to his loft.
Author’s note: I blame![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
poisontaster and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
txtequilanights. Damn enablers. *grumbles*
*
It Don’t Mean A Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing
*
“I wonder if she kept it,” Daniel slurs after Betty‘s dragged him back to his loft.
Betty stops deleting voicemails and texts on his cell phone while making sure he’s been rolled onto his side to avoid choking on his own vomit so that she can peer over his shoulder in confusion. “Kept what?”
“You know,” he says, “it.“
She makes a face. “You mean the penis, don’t you?”
Daniel burrows his face into his silk sheets as his second bottle of champagne for the night starts to slip from his grasp. There’s not a lot of bubbly left in it, but then again it wasn’t like he got to do much damage to the first bottle. Something kept him from finishing it, and he can’t really remember if it was his father being arrested for murder or his brother’s sudden acquisition of girl parts that ruined it.
Betty’s hand is still on his shoulder to keep him from rolling over. “It’s really weird hearing you say the word ’penis’,” he mumbles into the bedding.
“Not as weird as you thinking your brother got a sex-change operation and kept it.”
He shrugs, a difficult maneuver considering he’s lying on his side. “There are people who keep their appendix after they get it removed. Like, in a jar on their desk or something.”
“Those are really strange people, Daniel.”
Daniel lifts his head to look up at her. The world swims around him and his stomach takes that as a cue to become seasick. “We are really strange people, Betty,” he says.
Betty gives him this look like she really wants to argue that with him but can’t.
That’s the first night after Fashion Week.
*
The second night after Fashion Week, Daniel lies in bed alone and damn proud of himself.
For starters, it turns out that he wasn’t the most inebriated person at the Mode fashion show. At least three former Project Runway contestants were so out of it on mojitos and Cuervo even before they stumbled into the Mode show that when they were all discovered making out together under the runway after Alexis’s revelation they had a very tidy excuse. They also had not one vagina among them, which in any other industry might be a shocking discovery but in this one mostly just resulted in shoulder shrugs and a question about whose designs they were wearing at the time.
So, you know, he has that going for him.
Also, he managed an entire day of being cornered by the paparazzi without saying any phrase more incriminating than “trying times” and “my father is innocent” and correcting every mention of his brother with, “Actually, my sister …” without adding that he was really curious if Alex’s cock was in a jar in Switzerland or something.
Another check in the “good for Daniel!” column.
Oh, and he managed to call his brother “Alexis” all day at Mode.
He’s decided to ignore the fact that he’s been pronouncing it “Alex … is.” At least he’s trying, damn it.
*
On the third night after Fashion Week, Alexis shows up at Daniel’s door wearing a green dress that’s practically painted on with a bottle of expensive wine dangling from her fingertips.
Daniel has dreams that look a lot like this.
Or, if he’s being totally honest, Tuesday nights that look at lot like this.
“Mind if I come in, Danny?” Alexis says, because she still calls him Danny even though he’s stopped calling her Alex. Of course, his dick isn’t on display in some medical museum in Vienna or whatever, which is sort of the big difference.
Daniel has been going through old photos -- he and Alex playing touch football together in the park, he and Alex drinking together in a bar, he and Alex being Daniel and Alex -- and trying to imagine that guy wanting a pair of breasts of his very own through all of that.
It just never seems to work in his brain.
“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea,” Daniel says.
Her gaze drifts downward to the photo in his hand. Temporary amnesia sets in, because he can’t remember what the hell he was looking at last but he’s pretty sure it was a picture of that time in Mexico on the nude beach.
“Is that me?” Alexis asks.
What Daniel wants to say is, Sort of, but instead he says, “I really can’t do this right now,” and shuts the door in her face.
*
On the fourth night after Fashion Week, Daniel remembers the odd comforting look on Alexis’s face when he’d apologized for his behavior that day at work, pictures that expression as he jerks off in the shower and comes with two fingers up his ass.
That thing he said to Betty about their family being normal?
Yeah, that really wasn’t a load.
*
Five nights after Fashion Week, Daniel’s drunk enough to pick up the phone and call her. He doesn’t bother to say hello.
“So what did they do with it, anyway?” he asks.
It’s Alexis. Hell, underneath it all, she’s still Alex. She doesn’t need clarification. “I’ve been using it as a paperweight,” she says on the phone, and he can hear the faint hint of a smile in her voice. “Sometime I use it to pound nails into the wall when I hang picture frames.”
“I’ll bet it gets the nails all the way in on the first try,” Daniel says, and bile rises in his throat.
Alexis sighs on the other end of the line. “You’re drunk.”
“Uh, I forgot,” Daniel says. “I forgot. Something. I think it was about your dick.” He swallows. “Oh, God, I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Because of my dick or because of your blood alcohol content?”
Daniel knows what she’s getting at, and he shakes his head like that’s an answer or like she can even see him doing it. He can just imagine her right now, lying across her bed in some flimsy lingerie that hugs every curve, long blond waves rippling over her shoulders, flawless makeup and full lips. In his mind she looks like a wet dream he remembers from a long time ago except the outfit’s all wrong.
“Yeah, Daniel,” she says. He doesn’t even know what for.
*
Six days after Fashion Week, she shows up at his apartment and he lets her in. She’s got that bottle of wine again and its equally potent twin. Later he vaguely recalls a lot of laughter and reminiscing, bad memories, jokes about embarrassing situations they’ve both caught one another in.
Everything kind of blurs from the moment they crack open the bottles until Daniel asks, “Why did you do it?”
Her smile falls a little. “I told you, Danny. My entire life, I’ve felt like --”
“Yeah, I got that,” Daniel says. “I meant, why did you fuck me with a cock you didn’t even want?”
Alexis drops her glass of wine and heads for the door without answering.
It’s okay. Daniel didn’t expect her to, and hadn’t much liked that carpet anyway.
*
Seven days after Fashion Week, she walks right into his apartment as if the door wasn‘t even locked.
She must have gotten a copy of his key, and he can just imagine Amanda sneaking into his stuff or “borrowing” Betty’s copy for her new boss. He just knows that he’s sitting on his bed one minute and the next minute his lap is full of Alexis, tugging at his belt, mouthing kisses along his jaw line.
“What if I said I just wanted to use it while I still could?” she asks.
Daniel thinks she was just being Alex way back then, in-charge big-brother Alex, but doesn’t say it.
“You expect me to believe that?” he says instead.
The lips pressed against the pulse point on his neck form a smile. “I expect you to play along.”
His hands slide up her thighs, tremble when he discovers she’s not wearing panties. Of course she’s not he thinks, if I were a woman, I probably wouldn’t ever wear them either.
“I can do that,” he says, and she grins wickedly down at him before sticking her hand down his pants.
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Ugly Betty
Rating: R
Warnings: Het incest. If you've seen "I'm Coming Out", you know which pairing I'm talking about. ;)
Summary: “I wonder if she kept it,” Daniel slurs after Betty‘s dragged him back to his loft.
Author’s note: I blame
poisontaster and txtequilanights. Damn enablers. *grumbles*It Don’t Mean A Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing
*
“I wonder if she kept it,” Daniel slurs after Betty‘s dragged him back to his loft.
Betty stops deleting voicemails and texts on his cell phone while making sure he’s been rolled onto his side to avoid choking on his own vomit so that she can peer over his shoulder in confusion. “Kept what?”
“You know,” he says, “it.“
She makes a face. “You mean the penis, don’t you?”
Daniel burrows his face into his silk sheets as his second bottle of champagne for the night starts to slip from his grasp. There’s not a lot of bubbly left in it, but then again it wasn’t like he got to do much damage to the first bottle. Something kept him from finishing it, and he can’t really remember if it was his father being arrested for murder or his brother’s sudden acquisition of girl parts that ruined it.
Betty’s hand is still on his shoulder to keep him from rolling over. “It’s really weird hearing you say the word ’penis’,” he mumbles into the bedding.
“Not as weird as you thinking your brother got a sex-change operation and kept it.”
He shrugs, a difficult maneuver considering he’s lying on his side. “There are people who keep their appendix after they get it removed. Like, in a jar on their desk or something.”
“Those are really strange people, Daniel.”
Daniel lifts his head to look up at her. The world swims around him and his stomach takes that as a cue to become seasick. “We are really strange people, Betty,” he says.
Betty gives him this look like she really wants to argue that with him but can’t.
That’s the first night after Fashion Week.
The second night after Fashion Week, Daniel lies in bed alone and damn proud of himself.
For starters, it turns out that he wasn’t the most inebriated person at the Mode fashion show. At least three former Project Runway contestants were so out of it on mojitos and Cuervo even before they stumbled into the Mode show that when they were all discovered making out together under the runway after Alexis’s revelation they had a very tidy excuse. They also had not one vagina among them, which in any other industry might be a shocking discovery but in this one mostly just resulted in shoulder shrugs and a question about whose designs they were wearing at the time.
So, you know, he has that going for him.
Also, he managed an entire day of being cornered by the paparazzi without saying any phrase more incriminating than “trying times” and “my father is innocent” and correcting every mention of his brother with, “Actually, my sister …” without adding that he was really curious if Alex’s cock was in a jar in Switzerland or something.
Another check in the “good for Daniel!” column.
Oh, and he managed to call his brother “Alexis” all day at Mode.
He’s decided to ignore the fact that he’s been pronouncing it “Alex … is.” At least he’s trying, damn it.
On the third night after Fashion Week, Alexis shows up at Daniel’s door wearing a green dress that’s practically painted on with a bottle of expensive wine dangling from her fingertips.
Daniel has dreams that look a lot like this.
Or, if he’s being totally honest, Tuesday nights that look at lot like this.
“Mind if I come in, Danny?” Alexis says, because she still calls him Danny even though he’s stopped calling her Alex. Of course, his dick isn’t on display in some medical museum in Vienna or whatever, which is sort of the big difference.
Daniel has been going through old photos -- he and Alex playing touch football together in the park, he and Alex drinking together in a bar, he and Alex being Daniel and Alex -- and trying to imagine that guy wanting a pair of breasts of his very own through all of that.
It just never seems to work in his brain.
“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea,” Daniel says.
Her gaze drifts downward to the photo in his hand. Temporary amnesia sets in, because he can’t remember what the hell he was looking at last but he’s pretty sure it was a picture of that time in Mexico on the nude beach.
“Is that me?” Alexis asks.
What Daniel wants to say is, Sort of, but instead he says, “I really can’t do this right now,” and shuts the door in her face.
On the fourth night after Fashion Week, Daniel remembers the odd comforting look on Alexis’s face when he’d apologized for his behavior that day at work, pictures that expression as he jerks off in the shower and comes with two fingers up his ass.
That thing he said to Betty about their family being normal?
Yeah, that really wasn’t a load.
Five nights after Fashion Week, Daniel’s drunk enough to pick up the phone and call her. He doesn’t bother to say hello.
“So what did they do with it, anyway?” he asks.
It’s Alexis. Hell, underneath it all, she’s still Alex. She doesn’t need clarification. “I’ve been using it as a paperweight,” she says on the phone, and he can hear the faint hint of a smile in her voice. “Sometime I use it to pound nails into the wall when I hang picture frames.”
“I’ll bet it gets the nails all the way in on the first try,” Daniel says, and bile rises in his throat.
Alexis sighs on the other end of the line. “You’re drunk.”
“Uh, I forgot,” Daniel says. “I forgot. Something. I think it was about your dick.” He swallows. “Oh, God, I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Because of my dick or because of your blood alcohol content?”
Daniel knows what she’s getting at, and he shakes his head like that’s an answer or like she can even see him doing it. He can just imagine her right now, lying across her bed in some flimsy lingerie that hugs every curve, long blond waves rippling over her shoulders, flawless makeup and full lips. In his mind she looks like a wet dream he remembers from a long time ago except the outfit’s all wrong.
“Yeah, Daniel,” she says. He doesn’t even know what for.
Six days after Fashion Week, she shows up at his apartment and he lets her in. She’s got that bottle of wine again and its equally potent twin. Later he vaguely recalls a lot of laughter and reminiscing, bad memories, jokes about embarrassing situations they’ve both caught one another in.
Everything kind of blurs from the moment they crack open the bottles until Daniel asks, “Why did you do it?”
Her smile falls a little. “I told you, Danny. My entire life, I’ve felt like --”
“Yeah, I got that,” Daniel says. “I meant, why did you fuck me with a cock you didn’t even want?”
Alexis drops her glass of wine and heads for the door without answering.
It’s okay. Daniel didn’t expect her to, and hadn’t much liked that carpet anyway.
Seven days after Fashion Week, she walks right into his apartment as if the door wasn‘t even locked.
She must have gotten a copy of his key, and he can just imagine Amanda sneaking into his stuff or “borrowing” Betty’s copy for her new boss. He just knows that he’s sitting on his bed one minute and the next minute his lap is full of Alexis, tugging at his belt, mouthing kisses along his jaw line.
“What if I said I just wanted to use it while I still could?” she asks.
Daniel thinks she was just being Alex way back then, in-charge big-brother Alex, but doesn’t say it.
“You expect me to believe that?” he says instead.
The lips pressed against the pulse point on his neck form a smile. “I expect you to play along.”
His hands slide up her thighs, tremble when he discovers she’s not wearing panties. Of course she’s not he thinks, if I were a woman, I probably wouldn’t ever wear them either.
“I can do that,” he says, and she grins wickedly down at him before sticking her hand down his pants.
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no subject
Date: 2007-02-04 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-04 09:53 pm (UTC)This is fantastic and WRONG and, just, YAY!
no subject
Date: 2007-02-05 07:47 pm (UTC)This was awesome: so wrong, and yet so satisfying. (Plus, if Heroes and Supernatural can have practically-canon incest, why should Ugly Betty lose out?)
no subject
Date: 2007-02-15 10:36 pm (UTC)AWESOME. I am so platonically in love with you right at this moment that if Mona could see me, I'd be locked up in some tower for life. *glees*
no subject
Date: 2007-02-15 10:45 pm (UTC)It's all you and Rachel's fault, you know. Throwing smutty Meadecest prompts at me ... shame on you both. ;p. *giggles*
Do you know how hard I laughed when the first new episode after I wrote this featured a running joke about Alex's dick in a jar? I'm pretty sure I sprained something. HEEEEEEE.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 12:08 am (UTC)Dude, this is why I girlcrush on your SHINY BRAIN. :)
no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 08:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-23 02:10 am (UTC)Awww, Danny! You're adorable.
Also, this line—“Yeah, I got that,” Daniel says. “I meant, why did you fuck me with a cock you didn’t even want?”—best reveal ever.
Nicely done, nicely done. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2007-05-25 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-22 07:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-03 05:09 am (UTC)I've started a
no subject
Date: 2007-12-07 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-08 10:47 pm (UTC)this is just wrong on so many levels (and not only because i ship Daniel and Betty, and the obvious that Alexis and Daniel are siblings) and yet OK.
this is what happens when you watch a prime time telenovela you are actually somewhat OK with fics like this.