[personal profile] chlorhexidine
chlorhexidine: (Text - No fucks are given)
This is not being posted to the Spira Fic comm for exactly that reason. Crazy, crazy silliness discussed with Jim in a what if scenario.

Characters: Arc/Szayel
Rating: NC-17
Summary: In which Spira characters are either customers at or work in a brothel... Szayel has a favourite customer.

Brown hair, brown eyes, and expensive clothes, he walked through the door, past the lanky bouncer, and proceeded to look as quietly lost as every other time he'd done this.

Grimmjow nudged Yylfordt, grinning widely. “Hey, Szayel's favourite's back again.”

Yylfordt shook his head and rested his elbows on the bar top. “I don't even know how Szayel does it, dude. He hasn't even taken a break yet today. I'd stop working if I had to keep going like that,” he gestured in the direction of his crotch, his nose screwed up.

“To be fair,” Saix said, as he approached the bar, ends of his hair still wet from the shower, “not all of Szayel's customers require that part of him.”

“Yeah, but enough of them must,” Yylfordt said, as the kid on the bar mixed up a drink for Saix and put it in front of him, to an appreciative nod.

“Yeah? Well this is about to get interesting,” Grimmjow said, a cruel amusement in his prize winning smile, “because Szayel's already got a queue.”

“He'll let the cute one jump it,” Yylfordt said, “he always does. He's as bad as this prick and the leggy blond,” he gestured with his thumb in Saix's direction.

Saix raised an eyebrow, “I've never taken a favourite ahead of someone waiting.”

“You're admitting he's a favourite, bro.”

Grimmjow waved them both quiet as Szayel's door opened and the previous customer left. One of Szayel's regulars was already waiting, propping up the other end of the bar, out of earshot, but he sat up straighter when the door opened. The cute one considered to be Szayel's favourite stood up straighter, too, his attention fixed there while he spoke to the girl at the desk.

Szayel himself emerged a couple of minutes later, sashaying out and combing his fingers through his hair with a smug smile. Yylfordt noticed the change in his expression as he spotted Arc, that tiny flicker of a genuine smile, quickly wiped over with Szayel's usual smugness.

Arc walked over to him, but at the same time, Szayel's next customer in line drained his drink and hurried over.

“Here we go,” Grimmjow said, sounding far too amused.

“I was hoping you were free,” Arc said, as he approached Szayel.

“He's not,” came the answer, from Szayel's next customer. “Wait your turn, boy.”

Arc looked both surprised, and a little disappointed. “You have a queue?”

Szayel smiled at him, reaching out to stroke the ends of his hair affectionately, “I usually do.”

“And I've been waiting, patiently.”

“I'll double the fee,” Arc said, before Szayel could say anything. Szayel seemed taken aback by the statement.

“I'll triple it,” Was the answer.

“Quadruple.”

“Qui--”

“Boys, boys,” Szayel said, clearly enjoying the attention, but laughing and waving his hands in a conciliatory gesture, “there's no need for that.”

“I want my turn.”

Szayel sighed, turning to Arc and asking, gently, “Wait for me?”

“I'm not paying for rushed work, either.”

“Pardon me?” Szayel said, eyebrows raised and clearly offended, “I never rush.”

“I'll wait,” Arc said, quietly.

“Well then,” Szayel said, turning to his current customer and gesturing towards his door, “that's that little issue resolved, isn't it?” He shot Arc an apologetic smile over his shoulder before he turned to lead his customer off.

Despite the apparent resolution, Arc looked distinctly unhappy, and went to sit down in a quiet corner.

“Demyx,” Saix said, addressing the bar boy, “get him a drink while he waits.”

“Right,” Demyx said, having watched the display with his mouth open.



When Szayel emerged again, the previous witnesses were all otherwise engaged, but Axel was there, enjoying a drink as he'd just officially clocked off, and Apache was leaning against the bar on her elbows.

Arc stood up and made straight for Szayel, who took him into his room without a word, and closed the door behind them both.

“I didn't know you always had a queue,” Arc said, as he stopped by the door while Szayel went to go and sit down.

He poured them both a drink, seeming very calm and unconcerned as he admitted, “Usually, I let you skip it.”

Arc blinked before making his way over and accepting the drink from Szayel's hand. “Why?”
Szayel didn't grace that one with an answer, flashing Arc a look that suggested he really didn't need to ask that question. “One of the benefits of being me,” he said, lightly, “is that I get to pick and choose my customers. You pay well, so no one questions it when I show you favour.” He took a mouthful of his drink, and then relaxed back in his seat, looking, for a very brief moment, as tired as he felt.

Arc's hand found his, and Szayel looked up at him. “How would you feel if I bought your contract?”

Szayel looked at him seriously for a moment, and then chuckled, quietly before he tugged on Arc's hand and led him closer. “To do that, you would have to buy every hour of my time from now, until I'm too old for this work any more. Not even you have that much money.”

Arc frowned as he came closer, and then swung his legs around to straddle Szayel's lap. “I want to keep you.”

“You're not the only one,” Szayel answered, letting go of Arc's hand in favour of running his fingers down Arc's cheek, and then up into his hair. “I make far too much money for them to just let me go.”

“But you'd come with me if I could afford it?” Arc asked, hooking his finger into the collar around Szayel's throat with a sad look.

Szayel looked up at him, momentarily struggling for something to say before he looked away and told him, softly, “You're the only one I kiss.”

Arc looked surprised at that. “You don't--?”

Szayel shook his head. “It's one of my rules; no kissing, no girls, no faeces.”

“I didn't--”

“I know,” Szayel answered, tugging Arc down, gently. “I also don't usually work overtime, but I'm technically, now, off shift,” he purred, before his mouth found Arc's and he kissed him sweetly and longingly.

Arc pressed forward, running his fingers into Szayel's hair, and Szayel placed his drink on the small table before taking Arc's and doing the same. Then he wrapped both of his arms around Arc and sighed with relief as he pulled him close.

“If you mean it when you say you want to keep me,” Szayel said, his voice quiet, “then you'll have to wait again, until I'm past my sell by date.”

“That won't take long in this business,” Arc said, faintly.

“I know,” Szayel said, before leaning up and taking another lengthy kiss.

He led Arc over to the bed by the hand, moving to undress him, but Arc captured his hands and shook his head. “You're not on the clock, remember?” He pointed out, before he unbuttoned Szayel's shirt, pushing it down before he kissed Szayel's collarbone. There was a faint bruise there, warm to the touch, and Arc felt Szayel flinch under him as he got too close to it.

“I had a biter earlier,” he explained, softly, when Arc stopped, and touched the mark gently with his fingertips.

Arc sighed, but didn't speak, kissing the flesh next to the bruise, and pushing Szayel's shirt off. “I hate,” he murmured, as he wrapped his arms around Szayel's all too skinny frame, and had Szayel return the gesture, “that they hurt you.” His fingers ran tenderly over the tiny marks on Szayel's back, the occasional scabbed over scratch from fingernails, and one, or two, that were wider and longer, and suggested someone had got carried away with something kinky.

He saw Szayel smirk out of the corner of his eye before he said, “Actually, some of those scratches are from you.”

Arc looked up sharply, his eyes wide, and Szayel pressed a finger over his lips. “I don't mind.”

“I don't want to hurt you, Szayel.”

Szayel shrugged one shoulder, giving Arc a sly little smirk. “I take a rather perverse pleasure in having my customers see the marks left by you.” He leaned in close, until his lips were almost against Arc's ear, and said, “They might pay for me, but I'll never be theirs, no matter how much they want me.”

Arc's eyes went wide for a moment, and then he leaned in and took another lengthy kiss, his tongue sliding over Szayel's own. He knew, couldn't ever not know, just how many cocks and other body parts Szayel must have had in his mouth today alone, but knowing that his was the only other tongue made it feel a little better, and he pushed Szayel down to sit on the bed before he unfastened his trousers and took to his knees in front of him.

Szayel watched him curiously for a moment, and then closed his eyes, sinking his fingers into Arc's hair as Arc took him into his mouth and sucked at him softly. That was something else his customers almost never did, although there were one or two, and he groaned with quiet pleasure at the heat and softness of Arc's lips and tongue against his cock.

Arc seemed content as he sucked, the stroke and play of Szayel's fingers in his hair matching the happy murmurs from Szayel's throat. Arc knew he wasn't as good as Szayel at this, but that wasn't the point. Szayel did this, and more, for money, to other people, every single day. Arc didn't want this to just be about his own pleasure.

After a few minutes, Szayel groaned, and told Arc, “Enough.”

Arc pulled back, reluctantly, looking up at Szayel as he did so, and Szayel stroked his cheek before saying, with amusement, “I have to admit, that's a good look on you. Come here,” he added, tugging Arc up towards him for another lengthy kiss.

They continued to kiss as Arc shed his clothing, and Szayel shed the last of his, collapsing back onto the bed with Arc on top of him. “Is this what you want?” Arc asked, as he pressed close over Szayel, taking the lubricant in hand.

Szayel raised an eyebrow at the question, wrapping his legs around Arc and tugging him closer before placing his fingers under Arc's chin and meeting his eyes. “Yes.”

Arc met his eyes for a moment, before he nodded, taking one of Szayel's supply of condoms and slipping it over himself before he applied the lubricant, carefully. When he slipped inside, Szayel murmured, tilting his head back before saying, dreamily, “One day, I want you to be able to do that without the condom.”

Arc blinked at him, and then sighed, leaning close to kiss tenderly at Szayel's throat, ignoring the collar as best he could. He felt Szayel run his fingers down his back, and up again as he started to move inside him, temporarily lost in the sensation. Szayel was hot, and soft inside, and the feel of him flexing around Arc as they moved together was dizzying, but Arc struggled to keep his wits about him.

He angled himself slightly, adjusting Szayel's position for him, until he heard Szayel yelp with pleasure, fingers momentarily digging into his shoulders, and Arc smirked. He doubted many of Szayel's customers did this, either, and kept going, working to stimulate that same spot inside over and over, until Szayel was shouting incoherent noise mingled with Arc's name, fingers digging hard into Arc's shoulders.

Arc kept going as Szayel arched back, taking Szayel's cock in his hand and stroking him in time with his thrust until Szayel's fingernails clawed into his skin and Szayel came with a shudder and a loud groan.

Arc stilled, stroking Szayel through it, before withdrawing, still erect.

Szayel took a moment to relax back and regain his breath before he said, softly, “You didn't come.”

“It doesn't matter,” Arc said, quietly.

“It matters to me,” Szayel replied, drawing him closer and slipping the condom off him before taking him in hand and stroking. His fingers were soft, and long, and his grip was firm without being hard.

Arc came after a couple of minutes, his fingers digging into Szayel's shoulder. “Better,” Szayel said, bringing his hand up and licking his fingers idly before drawing Arc close. “Don't ever try and deny yourself when you're with me again, Arc.”

Arc looked at him, and sighed, before he settled in against him. “I don't mind my time with you being about you.”

Szayel looked at him, and ran his fingers through Arc's hair. “That's a bad habit to try and get me into,” he said, his tone teasing.

“How long has it been?” Arc asked, after a moment.

“Oh, don't worry about that,” Szayel said, casually. “You haven't had all you've paid for, yet.”

Arc looked at him, and then relaxed against him.



“Damn, bro, what is Szayel up to with that kid?” Yylfordt asked, looking at Apache.

“I don't know,” she answered, “but he screams like a fucking whore.”

“Hey, you guys heard about the new recruit yet?” Demyx asked.

“Nope,” Yylfordt answered, “what do you know?”

“Another guy,” Demyx said, authoritatively. “Pale, dark hair, green eyes.”

“Bet they hand him to Szayel for training,” Yylfordt said. “Poor kid.”

“Let's just hope he's not as noisy as that,” Apache said, gesturing towards Szayel's door.
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