Title: Maneater (Song - Maneater by Nelly Furtado)
Theme/Genre: Stripper AU! + Seduction + Mafia
Notes: Slightly !NSFW! and Matching song above recommended!
Word Count: 1.3k
Taeyong had been preparing for this exact moment for days, years even, ever since he'd stepped into this dream-crushing, morality stripping industry. But this wasn't the time to get into the right and wrongs of things, he, himself, was teetering on the edge of pitch black in terms of moral compass, so he'd seize this opportunity while he had it. It was his biggest client, his biggest money heist, and in Ten's cynical words, his soon to be biggest fuck up.
Taeyong ran a hand over the black lace and cold, iron chain that rested on his chest and exposed thighs. They jangled as he walked, heavy things that screamed danger, but that was what men like them loved, craved even, and he was no exception, a mere fulfiller of guileless fantasies. He moved to bend and brush over the knife tucked in the side of his garter. He prayed to an earless god that he wouldn't need it, but he wouldn't exactly be opposed to knife play if asked either. After all, what Jung Jaehyun wanted, he got, and Taeyong, in all forms and facets, was of no exception.
Feeling the pulse of music in his ears, blood rushing so rapidly from merely having to wait outside the door that he could physically feel the thrumming, he steeled himself, waiting to be called in like the patient and obedient worker he'd been conditioned to be. He switched it on then, that seductive aura he used around men and women alike, just as the man's voice spoke from behind the door.
"Come in."
Jaehyun's voice was just as he had imagined; deep, gruff, baritone, dangerously low, but laced with something like velvet, close to butter, smoothing over those two words that made the entire thing utterly sexy before it had even begun.
With one last anticipating bite of his lip, he opened the door to step in. The room was nothing new, dim, deep red lights to add to the man's devilish aura - but it was cleaner now that they had a bigger customer. He would've laughed, giggled even, if he was alone, but he converted that energy into the mere tug of lips, a coy, shy, inviting smile as he stepped forward from the shadows and into the light.
Jung Jaehyun, for any who was privy to lay eyes on him once in their lives, was just as described. Dark hair with equally dark eyes - hooded over now with an almost predator like look as he soaked in Taeyong's sweetness - and a sort of relaxed authority about him. His legs were cast open as if he was a king sat on a throne, relaxed into his chair. Though, a man like that could never be relaxed, those were false pretenses to lure in prey, to sedate his enemies into a false sense of security before he sunk his teeth in.
It wouldn't work, though. Taeyong knew better. Taeyong knew far too much about Jaehyun to fall for such tricks.
And so, when Jaehyun grabbed him by the waist and pulled him in with one swift, firm hold, Taeyong barely flinched. He merely lidded his eyes, arched his back, and mewled.
Jaehyun's hands felt perfect; large, sturdy, calloused around his soft, lithe waist, specifically trained to traipse in and out of danger. Jaehyun's head lowered to his neck, and he dragged his nose along the length of it, nosing a stripe of skin from the tip of his ear to his glittery collarbone. Jaehyun moved up then, lips pressing to his jugular and sucking, causing Taeyong to grip at his biceps, grinding down on him in a subdued manner.
He couldn't get lost in the pleasure, that wasn't what he was here for. But he'd let Jaehyun have his fun, he too could enjoy this.
Jaehyun rolled his body upwards as Taeyong's hands travelled the expanse of his broad back, feeling for weapons, but Jaehyun didn't need to know that. He continued his exploration; feeling a litter of scars under the material of his taut clothes and smirked to himself as Jaehyun sucked on his sensitive skin, rolling his hips just in time to meet Jaehyun's movements. He pulled away then before Jaehyun could catch wind of his lingering hands.
Jaehyun's hands moved to take off the shackles that bound Taeyong's chest, eyes glazed over as he watched the pinkish nipples underneath now perk up from the sudden exposure to the cold. Taeyong's fingertips pulsed when Jaehyun's thumbs brushed over the sensitive area before he wasted no more time to dive in, sucking on the skin like a greedy man devouring his next meal, as if there was no guarantee for the next.
Taeyong was about to lose his wits then, get lost in the fucked up daze of Jaehyun's slick tongue and go against the grain - against his standard rules and morals - to tell Jaehyun to hurry the fuck up and fuck him. But this way was better, he surmised, under the dimming red lights and sensual music. It was easier to stay focused if Jaehyun went slow.
And besides, something in him clawed at his gut, warning him that Jaehyun wasn't a man who would take kindly to being told what to do. A man like that liked to be in charge, reign over and possess things that weren't his - Taeyong's body for instance, with the possessive grip he had on his waist. He'd be sure to bruise.
Taeyong's hands continued to wander, touches airy, sensual, feather light.
No large hidden knives?
He moaned.
Check. No hidden daggers?
Jaehyun's hands dipped into his pants, caressing his swollen cock.
Check. No gun strap?
Taeyong curved into him, allowing Jaehyun to stroke him. He smirked then. Checkmate.
He was reaching for the powdered poison to put unto Jaehyun's lips as he thumbed them for a kiss, but suddenly, a hand shot up, gripping at his hair and tugging back so he felt the pain shooting from his scalp into the curl of his toes - from pleasure, from pain, who knew? The ability to discern the fine line between such feelings had been lost a long time ago.
"You want to die, darling?"
Jaehyun smiled at him; hollow, wide, menacing, a promise of what was to come. It was the smile Taeyong had seen men like him give to little girls before proceeding to murder their entire family and leave them for dead. He reveled in the way it made him feel; buzzed, high, aroused.
Jaehyun took out his gun then, a solid, black thing, hidden in an area Taeyong's wandering hands fortunately or unfortunately had not been able to reach, and he pointed it at Taeyong's skull, unblinking in a way that should have been unnerving to anyone else but him.
They'd be a great match, Taeyong mulled over the thought fleetingly, it'd be nice if they'd got together after Jaehyun would inevitably fuck his brains out - dead or alive.
Jaehyun dragged the gun down the side of his face, over the pit of his rose-shaped scar, over the sharp angle of his cheekbones, over the hollow of his nose, following a path until it landed directly on Taeyong's lips. And there was a ferocious glint in Jaehyun's eye, but Taeyong had been in such a situation one too many times to truly be afraid of it. He embraced death - after all, they were all going to hell with him.
Taeyong angled his mouth to take the gun in then, sucking on the cool metal, swirling his tongue in a teasing manner, eyes locked with the mafia lord himself, before pulling out with a taunting smile as Jaehyun watched, half entranced, half enraptured, half overcome with the urgent need to kill;
Taeyong smiled, fluttering his lashes. "For you."
