E.G.G. (Evil Generation Gap)

BY : Scribe
Category: 1 through F > Austin Powers
Dragon prints: 4523
Disclaimer: I do not own the Austin Powers series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: E.G.G. (Evil Generation Gap)
Author: Scribe
Summary: It's hard to rebel when your father makes a career of being evil, but Scott finds a way.
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Scott/Austin
Characters: Scott Evil, Austin Powers.
Author's Notes: First in the Evil Series
Disclaimer: I did not create, and do not own the rights to, the recognizable media characters that appear in this story. I have no legal or binding agreement with the creators, or owners. I do not seek, and would not accept, profit from this fiction. I have nothing but affection and respect for the creators, and the actors and actresses who portrayed these characters. This story is in no way meant to reflect on the actual lives or life styles of the actors and actresses who portrayed the characters.


(Evil Generation Gap)

Austin Powers was feeling horny, baby.

Well, it's not like that was any kind of a phenominon--Austin Powers was horny on a more than regular basis. What was unusual was that he was currently without a shag partner.

Felicity was off undercover (literally), working a cae at a Nevada brothel called (much to Austin's approval), the Pink Pussycat Palace. Austin had offered to go undercover with her as resident stud, but that hadn't gone over well with Basil Exposition. Vanessa was scattered somewhere about in pieces, since she had proved to be a fembot. Wasn't that a kick in the nuts!? Austin had always prided himself on not using artificial relief. (Well, as long as you didn't count that brief fling with Ilsa, the Inflatable Swedish Cheerleader, and that had only been because his Swedish Penis Enlarger had been in the shop for a bit.)

Not that Austin would have minded a bit of strange stuff, either. On my, no, baby! The stranger, the better, wink wink, nudge nudge. It had gotten dangerous, though, to pick up anyone. Last night he had been about to scoop up a little blonde bird when her date showed up. Six foot four, dripping leather and chains, visible scars and tattoos, size twelve steel-toed boots, and smoking a Havana the size of a baseball bat. Toughest chick Austin had ever seen. And not interested in a threesome, if he judged from the way she had tossed him into the mirror behind the bar. Ow, baby.

No, lately it seemed like there'd been nothing but Nun Conventions and B.L.U.E.M. (Butch Lesbians, Unite! Emasculate Men) rallies in town.What was an International Man of Mystery to do when his Mojo went to work, and there wasn't a sweet bit of crumpet available?

"Well," Austin sighed. "I suppose there's always the Swedish Penis Enlarger, though that's really not my bag."

He was just getting it out of the bottom dresser drawer, when there was a knock at the door.

Austin frowned. Who could that be? He hadn't ordered room service, he hadn't been playing the music too loud (anyway, who would object to Burt Bacharach, even if it was turned up a bit?), and he hadn't been having wild, screaming sex--dammit. In any case he tightened the belt on his crushed velour bathrobe (they had come up with a few smashing fashions while he was in the deep chill), adjusted his glasses, and went to open the door. Maybe it was a damsel in distress, looking for help and a good shag.

He opened the door to be confronted by a pair of spectacular buttocks, clad in very tight jeans. The person who had apparantly knocked was turned away, bending over at the waist to get something off the floor. "Well, hello there!" Austin crooned. He couldn't resist a nice, firm squeeze to those tempting buns. After all, the bird must want that, considering the way she was flaunting herself, and who was Austin Powers to disappoint a lady?

The owner of the beautiful bum stood up, turning around, and Austin screamed.

"Well, hello yourself, jerk-off," said Scott Evil sourly. "In case ya were tryin' to read somethin', I don't have braille tattooed on my butt."

"I know that!" said Austin quickly. "I was... um... A scorpion!" He pointed wildly down the hall. Scott looked in the direction of his finger, and Austin quickly slammed the door.

knock knock knock "Open up, Powers."

Austin leaned against the door, sweating. Good God, he'd just felt up his arch enemy's son! Once Scott told Dr. Evil there was no telling what fiendish plan would be set in motion. Austin would probably find himself facing genetically enhanced killer hamsters, or ninja assassin grannies, or some such silly, but dangerous, rubbish.

knock knock knock "C'mon. I won't tell my dad you grabbed my ass, if that's what's worryin' ya."

"I didn't grab your arse. I told you there was a scorpion. This is the desert, you know. There was a scorpion, and I knocked it off your bum. I probably saved your life."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Open up. I wanna talk to ya."

Austin debated. This was, after all, Scott Evil--heir apparent to the Evil Empire of Dr. Evil, evil genius in training, and slacker. Any one of these made him a possibly dangerous person. "Danger is my middle name," Austin said, opening the door.

Scott came in. "Really? I would have guessed 'Dork'. Shut the door, Powers. I don't do my business in the street." He sighed. "Maybe if I did I'd get more respect from my dad."

Austin shut the door. "You and the pater familias had a falling out, eh?"

"No shit, Sherlock. We've never actually had a falling in, if ya know what I mean." Scott ambled over to Austin's sunken living room, and looked at the furniture, then looked at Austin. "Leather. How many cows did you kill for that sofa?"

"Personally? Not a one, baby. If you don't like it, try the beanbag. It's vinyl."

Scott shrugged. "I'm not really anti-leather. I just act like I am to piss my dad off. I joined PETA. Makes sense, 'cause I want to be a veterinarian, but I did it mostly for the vegetarianism, save all living things line of bull corn. Virtucon is heavy into medical and cosmetic testing labs."

Austin gasped. "You mean...?"

"Yeah." Scott paused. He looked ashamed. "My dad tortures bunnies." He flopped on a beanbag, covering his face.

"You poor kid." Austin had never thought he'd feel sorry for Scott Evil. After all, the kid was an even bigger smart ass than he was, and that was going a bit. "I'd offer you a drink, but you're..."

"Legal." he said quickly. "I'm nineteen, and the legal age for anything is eighteen."

"Well, that's terrif. I'll just fix you a little slosh, shall I?"

"Make it a big one, and what's 'terrif' about it?"

"Well," Austin was at a loss. Didn't all healthy young American males want to get of age so they could drink, smoke, and screw their brains out with impunity? Lord knows it was the ambition of every British lad when Austin was younger. He handed Scott a large whiskey and soda. "Sip that, it's..." Scott chugged the drink. "...strong."

The young Evil burped, handing him back the glass. "How 'bout 'nother one? And leave off the thinner this time, 'kay?"

"Whatever you say, sport." Austin was impressed. Even he didn't try that with anything stronger than bubbly, and he only did that because it tickled his nose. "You're not thrilled to be of age. Why?"

"Well, there's hardly any point in my abstaining from any form of vice now that I'm legally of age."

"I don't follow you." Austin handed him the second glass. Scott drank this one more slowly. It took him two gulps.

"I didn't smoke or drink or screw when I was underage because that would have been wrong. Aaaand...?" He looked at Austin expectantly.

Austin sat down on the sofa near his beanbag, adjusting his glasses. "And your mum, Frau Farbissina, would have swatted your bum?"

Scott snorted. "Are you kidding? Mom's cool. She never spanked. No, aaaaand...?" When Austin looked puzzled, Scott sighed. "And that would have been behaving badly, and it would have pleased the hell out of Dad."


Scott scrubbed his hands over his face. "Powers, I'm Gen X. It is in my nature to be pissed off at my father. Add to that the fact that Dad is emminently piss-off inspiring..." He shrugged.

Austin was nodding. "Can't argue with you there, baby."

"Each genreration busts it's nuts tryin' to scandalize the previous one. So..."

Austin cocked his head. "Soooo?"

Scott rolled his eyes. "Christ! You're as thick as your freakin' accent! Powers, my father is frickin' Dr. Evil. Have you got any idea how hard it is to rebel against someone who worships the concept of wrongdoing?"

Austin winced. "Oo. Ow, baby."

"Yeah. I had to do reverse psychology on him."

"Nasty." He looks kind of cute when he pouts. That mouth is prettier than Vanessa's... No! Don't think about that, Austin. "What sort of things did you do?"

"Save the whales, work weekends with Habitat for Humanity, collect door to door for Muscular Dystrophy, donate my old baggies to Goodwill." He covered his eyes. "I even recycle my Playboys."

Austin hung his head for a moment, acknowledging the sacrifice. "I can see where you're coming from, baby, but that doesn't explain why you're here."

"Sure it does. I figured that the one area I could really, really use to piss Dad off was my sexuality."

Austin frowned. "Felicity isn't here, mate. She's on assignment. I'd offer to go through my little black book..." he pointed to a volume that looked like a Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, "but I haven't been having much luck myself lately."

"That ain't why I'm here, Powers." Scott struggled up out of the beanbag chair, and collapsed on the sofa beside Austin. "Look, Dad is set on continuing the bloodline, now that Mini Me's started messing with him, too." Scott grinned nostalgically. "I almost like the little bastard since he put that Super Glue on Dad's toilet seat."

Austin was still trying to puzzle things out. "You want my advice as a swinging bachelor on whether or not you should enter a monastery?"

Scott sighed heavily. "You know, it's a good thing you didn't breed with that fembot. It could be dangerous to pass on your intelligence." He grabbed Austin's head and laid a liplock on him.

Austin pulled away, spluttering. "What?" Scott started to crawl on him, and Austin leaned so far back trying to get away that he fell over, and Scott simply crawled over him. "Bloody hell! What are you doing?"

"Like I said--dense, but kinda cute." He kissed Austin again. Since Austin had been just about to say something witty and sophisticated that would defuse the situation his mouth was open, and Scott's tongue cruised right on in and made itself at home.

Austin tried to decide whether to use judo, karate, savat, or a plain old knee to the nuts to shift Scott. While he was doing this Scott made a thorough oral check with his tongue. Pulling back, he smiled down at the International Man of Mystery. "Hey, you've had some dental work."

"Just a cleaning, a bleaching, and a couple of crowns. Get off me."

"Nah." He kissed him again.

It's the fumes, Austin told himself. The whiskey fumes are making me light-headed. Something is making me light-headed. Scott came up for air, and Austin said, "Why are you doing this?"

"Shit, man, I told you. A, you're cute. B..." He chuckled darkly, and Austin felt a chill run down his spine. He sounded more evil than his dear old dad ever thought about being. "B, it would actually please him if I was just gay, since that is considered in at least some circles to be evil. But if I was gay and had an affair with his nemisis, Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery..."

"Oooh..." Light dawned. "Yeah, I see your point. But..." he cleared his throat. "I'm not... you know."

"No?" Scott's hand slipped inside the robe, and Austin yelped. "Couldn't prove that by me, stud. Listen, Powers, I'll make this easy for you. Listen carefully."

"I'll try, but you'll make it hard for me if your hand keeps moving like that," He couldn't help smirking. Hey, the sexual innuendo was too good to pass up.

Scott grinned. "You pride yourself on being hip, now, cool, cutting edge, up to the minute, boss, whatever the hell archaic terms you use for being with it, right?"


"Well...," Scott flipped Austin's robe open. "Ooo, not bad. Anyway, the most fashionable thing in the world right now is to be bisexual."

Austin hesitated. "Really?"

"Really." Scott was unzipping his jeans.

"Not just for the birds? I mean, I've noticed a lot of lesbian about lately. At least a lot of birds I've been trying to hit on have told me that they're lesbians."

"Uh uh." Scott was struggling with his Calvin Kleins.

"But Scott, I'm a man's man."

Scott settled himself between Austin's legs, grabbing his hips, "Austin, you geek, a man's man is gay." He started moving.

A great, dawning understanding filled Austin's face. He grabbed Scott's round, humping butt and howled, "Yeah baby! Show me love!"

The end.

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