Chapter Text
Mike Ross matured into his adult form one night in April, curled in a tiny ball in his crusty tub, covered head-to-toe in slowly melting ice both sicker and – somehow – hornier than he’d ever been in his life.
It nearly kills him.
His Pop, Edward (call me Edie) Ross, had done everything he could to help him through it. Edie kept the ice stocked, brushed his sweaty hair from his forehead and cooled it with a cold compress. But at one hundred and twenty-five, there was't much his grandfather could do. The fact that Edie was even still alive was kind of a miracle in itself. Roux-ga-Roux rarely lived past one hundred and thirty and Mike knew the only reason Edie was still around was to look after Mike.
There was little else but Mike to keep the stubborn man among the living. His Dominant mate James had died before Mike had even been born in a hunt gone bad, and all three of his children had died before him. Mike's uncles Ethan and Adam had died together at the hands of Hunters (the only actual threat to the Roux race, dedicated men and women who hunted them for reasons that varied from a righteous need to protect their species to the thrill of hunting Human-kind's only real predators) and Mike’s sire, Nicholas, had died in a car accident with his carrier, Nathan.
It was rare – almost unheard of really – for a Roux to live so long. Well, that’s what Mike had been told anyway. He’d never met another one of their kind. Oh, once or twice he’d thought he’d scented one in the crowds but this was New York, there was no real way to spot them. In fact, the only real way to tell Roux apart from Humans was through scent.
That was actually how Roux-ga-Roux had survived unnoticed; they looked like a Human in every possible way. That being said, all it would take was one look at their insides by anyone who knew what they were looking at to recognize them. Even a doctor that had barely passed his med school would be capable of noticing how wrong their insides were.
For while the Roux may look exactly like a Human, they had evolved into a radically different species. Mike had long thought that perhaps they were more related to reptiles than monkeys, because it was nearly impossible to tell their genders apart. Only another Roux could do such a thing (as both Dominants and Submissives had very different scent patterns) as on the outside both sexes looked biologically male.
While both Dominant and Submissives had fully developed GI track, as well as urinary tracks, neither gender actually used them; a Roux-ga-Roux absorbed every inch of fuel provided to them and as such never had any biological waste.
And while a Dominant’s rectal cavity was completely vestigial, for a Submissive it was a vital part of the reproductive process, serving the same functions as a human vagina, capping out into a cervix and uterus instead of the lower intestines.
It wasn’t until a Roux reached its thirtieth year and experienced the Change that they were considered fully sexually mature. For Dominants that meant creating live sperm for the first time, as well as developing the knotting muscles. For a Submissive, it meant that last stages of uterus and ovaries development. The caloric energy required to fuel the Change was immense; a massive check his body wrote that Mike nearly didn’t survive.
When he slipped into incoherence, Mike weighed one hundred and sixty-five pounds; still thin for his height of six foot but within the healthy range. When he woke up a day later – fully mature as a Submissive Roux and feeling like someone hit him with a truck – he was just shy of weighing one hundred and thirty pounds.
His body had cannibalized itself to stay alive.
The Change was very much like a snake shedding its old skin. Mike had lost all of the blemishes he’d acquired over the years, every scar and callous were gone. Even his tan had faded. Like the loss of baby teeth, Mike’s delicate pre-Change skin had been replaced with something far more durable and completely and utterly unflawed.
His hair (which had been rough from years of poor care and diet) was now silky smooth to the touch with a fair amount of body to it, even with its short cut. The lines of his jaw and nose had smoothed out, become far less angled and more gentle, his lips slightly fuller and dusted pale pink. Even the brown that had once ringed his pupil was faded away, replaced with a blue so bright his eyes seemed almost unreal, even to Mike.
Even with how thin he was – even with the slightly swallow tint to his skin – Mike looked better than he ever had in his life. It was another evolutionary quirk; Human’s tended to trust attractive men above all else.
Mike sighed as he turned from the mirror and stepped into his living room, a hand braced against the wall for support as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him. He’d need to hunt and soon. His body had been pushed far too close to the edge – and by the unhappy look on Edie’s face, his Pops knew it as well.
The Submissive had honestly done everything he could to bulk up when he’d felt his body gearing up for the Change. Keeping both himself and Edie feed was a challenge for several reasons, the least of them being that New York was a highly populated city full of people who never slept. The biggest thing that kept Mike from hunting as much as he wanted was that he just didn’t have the time.
Mike worked three jobs to keep he and his grandfather in their apartment. In the mornings he was a bike messenger and in the evenings and weekends he waited tables. He also had a small business on the side taking standardize tests like the LSAT and MCAT for desperate college students. That had recently gone to hell though as Mike’s luck had finally run out and he’d been recognized at both of the test sites.
But Mike still managed. He and Edie didn’t need much to survive. He never really was a big eater and truth be told, his Pop’s appetite had fallen way off the last year – which terrified Mike.
He also had Trevor.
Despite being Human, Trevor was Mike’s oldest friend. They’d gone to school together all their lives and when his parents had died in the car crash, the two had only grown closer. They’d discovered pretty much everything together (except for sex, Mike had never really seen the point in it himself. Neither masturbation nor sex with a Human held any appeal to him) and it had only seemed natural when one night nearly eleven years ago Mike’s secret had just sort tumbled out over a blunt and twelve pack of Coors light.
Looking back on it, it had been beyond stupid. Not only could it have gotten both Mike and Edie killed (and their species exposed) but it could have gotten Trevor killed as well. His grandfather had been furious when Mike had confessed what he’d done. Of course, that had been roughly five years after he’d done so and Trevor had never said anything to anyone, so Edie had been willing to let it go.
It was more likely that Edward Ross had just been unwilling to take another thing from his grandson, which Mike fully acknowledged. There was little that his Pops wouldn’t do for him and in return, the younger Submissive was determined to do the same. So when Edie had started to fall ill and hardly been able to move around their apartment without pausing every few feet out of breath, Mike had thrown himself into providing for both of them. But he'd struggled to hunt while adjusting to the hectic schedule that came with three jobs and one day, completely out of the blue, Trevor had shown up with a fresh corpse.
Even to this day, Mike didn’t know how to feel about the fact that his very Human best friend would show up occasionally with bodies for them. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t Human that the Roux struggled with his feelings on the matter. Oh he felt some things; confusion as to how and why, concern that his friend was going to get caught, guilt for blooding Trevor’s hands.
But in the end he mainly felt a deep, deep gratitude.
Trevor killed to help Mike and Edie, which went above and beyond any kind of acceptance he’d hoped to find when he’d first told Trevor about this all those nights ago. Even if it meant that Trevor was apparently a serial killer.
“Eat this.” Edie said firmly, pushing a well stuffed sandwich across the coffee table, “you need your strength.”
Mike nodded as he cautiously made his way over to join him, the wood floor swaying beneath his feet. He took a huge bite, eyes fluttering slightly as the taste of the flesh on his tongue. He hardly chewed it, too intent on getting his next bite, but the letter in Edie’s hand caught his attention.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with now,” Edie said sharply, folding the letter up.
“Pops,” Mike warned, setting the food down, “what’s in the letter?” There was a long silence. “Don’t try and Mexican standoff me, old man, I’m not taking another bite until you tell me who that’s from.”
The glare intensified but Mike met it with his an unimpressed one of his own and waited it out. After a moment there was a sigh, the letter thrown haphazardly onto the coffee table. “It’s from George-” who was their massive dick of a landlord, “- he’s demanding the back rent by next Monday. All of it.”
Mike let out a weary sigh, bringing a slightly shaking hand up to rub at his eyes. They owed three months’ rent counting the upcoming payment and Mike just didn’t have it. Edie’s glare grew even darker and the younger Submissive gave in, unwilling taking another bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly as he thought.
“Trevor’s got a job I could do for him.” Mike said slowly after a moment, bracing himself for his grandfather’s reaction. He wasn’t disappointed; the older Submissive’s face immediately grew thunderous.
“I don’t like you working for him.”
“I know you don’t, Pop,” Mike said tiredly around another mouthful of food. He swallowed it, the large lump making his throat ache slightly, “but Trevor’s a good friend, he-”
“A good friend? Michael, a good friend doesn’t blackmail.”
Mike groaned in frustration. “Trevor doesn’t blackmail-”
“Oh no?”
“Trevor’s never once threatened to go public with what we are.” The younger Roux said calmly as he stood with the now empty plate. “You know that.”
“He puts you in danger.”
“He asks me to do jobs that are too dangerous for him,” Mike corrected as he set the plate to soak in the sink, “there’s a big difference.”
He turned around, leaning against the counter as he eyed the furious looking Roux. The truth was that Trevor had asked Mike to do drop off or runs that could prove too dangerous for a Human in the past a handful of times. Roux were far less fragile, even as children, and Mike was happy to help. Trevor had done a lot for them, besides providing the odd body here and there ,he always paid Mike a decent share.
Mike couldn’t deny that he was uncomfortable with the types of jobs though; he’d never had any real interest in being a criminal. Sure, he killed and ate Humans but that more the Circle-of-Life than the Godfather. Totally different. He’d told Trevor as much and his friend had assured him that he only sent Mike when he absolutely had too.
So far, they’d only become dangerous once. A drug drop off had gone bad when the guys had decided to just take the pot and run. They’d pulled a gun, but Mike had managed to get out of there unharmed, and Trevor swore to never put him in danger like that again. The Roux hadn’t really done any other jobs for Trevor since that close call, sticking with the test taking gig to try and get the money they needed. That hadn’t meant that the Human had stopped asking. Almost once a week Mike got a call from Trevor trying to convince him to come back and work for him again.
Mike had steered clear, to hyper aware of what a coroner might find when examining his body and what that would mean for his grandfather.
“I don’t like it.” Edie grumbled angrily as he cut and recut his deck of cards. “Playing attack dog for some greasy Human.”
“Pop,” Mike said with another heavy sigh as he opened a can of Coke. “Please don’t make this any harder.”
“You shouldn’t have to do this – you’re above it. Tell me you know that.”
“I know it.” The younger Submissive agreed softly as he made his way over to the ailing Roux. He draped himself over the back of the couch, pressing his cheek to his grandfather smooth one. Despite his age, Edie looked hardly a day over sixty, another perk of their species. A hand reached up, pressing gently against his cheek. Mike hid his face in soft, downy brunet locks, inhaling his grandfather’s scent greedily. Despite his youthful appearance, a stale and bitter scent hung about him and Mike shivered, pressing closer.
“I don’t think I can hold on for much longer.” Edie admitted softly and Mike couldn’t help the choked whimper that escaped him. “I can’t leave you like this. I can’t meet my Nicky and tell him I left his cub like this.”
“I know.” The younger Submissive whispered, eyes squeezing shut against the sting of tears, his grip tightening.
He needed to find a mate.
But first they needed to pay the rent.
Mike waited until Edie had fallen asleep to the sounds of The Price is Right before padding quietly into the bedroom both Submissives shared. He was still eating – yet another sandwich – as the phone rang, steadying himself against the bedframe as his stomach flipped with a nauseous hunger despite the fact that he was feeding himself.
Trevor answered on the third ring. “Mikey, how’d it go?”
“It went.” Mike answered dryly, bringing a hand up to stare at the new, untarnished skin. “Is that job still opened?”
“I knew you’d come around.” The Roux rolled his eyes at how smug Trevor sounded. “You just can’t resist-”
“Trevor.”
“Yeah, yeah. Look, I have a client coming in from out of town and I can’t meet him. I need someone that I can trust to do it. It’s going to be totally safe.”
“Like last time was safe?”
There was a groan. “It’s taking place at the Chilton Hotel on Park Avenue, for fuck’s sake. Of course it’s safe. What are they gonna do? Pop you in one of the busiest hotels in New York?”
“Trevor-”
“It’s safe, man. I told you I wouldn’t put you in that again and I meant it.” Trevor said, sounding distracted. “Look, the briefcase in my room. Pick it up tomorrow and take it to room 2412-”
“Tomorrow?” Mike interrupted, alarmed. “I can’t do it tomorrow, Trevor! Jesus, you know what happened last night. I can barely walk right now.”
“It has to be tomorrow. It’s tomorrow or not at all.” Trevor snapped. “Are you in or not?”
“I dunno, Trev…”
“I don’t have time for this right now, Mike. Ether you’re doing this or you’re not.” There was the sound of grumbles and low level whispers on the other side of the line, but the Roux couldn’t pick up the actual words. “Look, you’ll feel better after a night’s sleep, okay? Go to sleep early, eat the food I brought you, and then do this. I need you to do this for me.”
Mike glanced at the sandwich in his hand guilty. “Fine.”
“Good. Okay, so this is a luxury hotel. You can’t be looking like you’re a delivery guy. So shave, comb your hair, and buy a suit.”
Mike sighed, clenching his trembling fist. “That’s a lot to ask right now.”
“I’m not asking, man. I’m paying you for this. Say – about twenty five grand? So just do it, okay?”
The Submissive glanced guilty towards where his grandfather slept. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”