Through the Grapevine
Working at a phone sex hotline starts as a way for Zero to earn a little more cash to balance out the new addition to his monthly bills: child support. However, he finds that the job— a mix of naughty scripts, dirty improvisation, thinking up synonyms for dicks, and pretending to orgasm on demand —is a cinch for him. Soon it goes from taking calls in his spare time to juggling a reliable schedule of regular clients.
Sometimes though, the caller is entirely different from the usual losers, creeps, and pervs.
The call comes late on a week night. There's muted snickering as he goes through his introduction, but Zero ignores it and asks for a name. The end of the line goes silent for a long enough time that he wonders if the call has dropped.
Finally, the caller mutters, "…do I have to give one?"
"No, sir." This is hardly the first time a caller's wanted to be anonymous. What's more troublesome he's really not giving him anything to work with, but Zero is willing to offer some encouragement. "If you'd rather, I can call you 'master'. Or would you prefer 'daddy'?"
A noise of discomfort is made, then the caller blurts out, "Look, my roommate dared me to call and stay on the line. You probably can't understand what I'm saying anyway."
Hearing such coherent Nohrian surprises Zero, as almost all of his clients speak Hoshidan. Whomever is on the line is definitely a native speaker, even if talking in a rush. He can't resist the temptation and switches over, "Oh, I understand what you're saying."
"Y-you-"
The caller's embarrassment practically oozes through the receiver and it has Zero grinning. "So you're a man who likes dares, hm? If we were in the same room and I dared you to suck me off, would you do it?"
There's an incoherent sputter instead of a reply on the other end and then a different voice chimes in, but in Hoshidan.
"Hey, what're you guys saying?"
Zero nearly laughs aloud, they must have it on speaker phone. A wicked idea crosses his mind and he gives into it. Speaking into the receiver, "From one Nohrian to another, I find that our willingness to deep-throat gives better head. The number of times Hoshidans have been scared of choking when they see the size of my-"
He isn't surprised when the caller hangs up.
Zero's good at this job. Even when callers don't tell him exactly what they want, and they usually do since it's their money, he knows how to get a rise out of people. Although each client is different there's always a little thrill at learning how to manipulate someone's reactions. This call wasn't for the hotline's advertised services but more of a hazing prank, so Zero let himself have a little fun.
After that, he has to log out of the call system for the night because he can't stop laughing.
—(x)—
That speaker phone call Zero laughs about throughout the week, but it's a one off which means he eventually forgets as the daily grind continues.
It's not like talking about sex over the phone with strangers actually turns him on— no matter how sexy the talk might otherwise be, or how gorgeous the caller's voice. Zero hears too many fantasies of all kinds and has faked his way through 'wanting' them too, for it to do much of anything for him personally. He's only in it for the money. It's the regulars who want the illusion that their calls mean more to him than a paycheck, and catering to client's whims is in the job description.
It's just a voice and not like Zero will actually meet any of these people in person— they'd never know his real self, just his work persona. That division is set firmly in his mind as he finishes the intro for a new call and waits for a name.
It's quiet on the other end, for a five solid minutes, but he can hear the client breathing. He tries a few seductive 'hello's, but still no reaction.
"Hey," Zero says, slipping out of his affected sexpot tone, "Anyone there?"
The call disconnects abruptly.
He'll save the number because that's protocol, but can't help but fume a little. Despite the clients having to pre-pay in chunks of time for the privilege of his supposedly undivided attention, Zero still gets callers who hang up early. He hates how these duds sink his stats, how the hotline's dispatcher will get on his case, and how he'll have to compensate with grunt work.
But as he goes into the work phone's contact list, Zero realizes the number's already been logged and his tag on the info reads 'dare'.
—(x)—
A week later that number calls again. Zero had spent that morning looking after his eight-month-old infant daughter and his exhausted brain doesn't connect the ID with the speaker phone guy. Instead he goes through the paces of his generic script, until the caller interrupts.
"Can this call be in Nohrian?"
Zero recognizes the voice then, and purrs, "I can do whatever you want." He lays it on thick and wonders if the customer will stay on the line long enough this time to be worth his while.
The caller clears his throat and asks, "Can you please speak normally?"
"Normal?" Zero drops his work-persona and deadpans. "Is this what you want?"
"Y-yeah. I just want to talk, normally."
"About what? The weather?" Sarcasm sharpens his voice, but the client doesn't seem to mind.
"Sure, what's it like where you are?"
Zero gives an eye roll, September weather in Shirazaki is as dull a subject as one could get. Still whatever it takes to keep the guy on the line and not hanging up early. He lies and says it's been hot enough that he's stopped wearing shirts and goes into detail how the sweat makes the fabric cling to his body. But the caller doesn't bite, just asks another innocuous question.
So around twenty minutes is spent getting paid to make awkward but apparently wholesome conversation with a stranger. The client doesn't share much of anything about himself and Zero can't really pin down why he called a phone sex hotline. Most awkward callers either hang up or get comfortable enough to get into whatever fantasy tipped them over into calling, but they just… talk, like the client wanted a friendly conversation more than he wanted sex.
—(x)—
After that the speaker phone caller becomes one of Zero's regulars, and continues to spend his money talking about nothing in particular, in Nohrian. An entire month passes before this customer gives him a name, Leo, whether real or fake. 'Niles' certainly wasn't what Zero wanted anyone to call him face-to-face.
Leo calls every week, always on the same day, usually within the same frame of hours, and though he's reserved he lets out little details of his life now and again. Zero realizes Leo is a university student when he starts to complain about projects and tests on a semesterly basis. Although his client never goes into specifics, Zero can tell this guy is likely an overachieving perfectionist with the way he self-flagellates on any mistakes.
Despite his cynicism Zero's curious to know more, and sometimes gives answers so unguarded that he slips a time or two and forgets that he's not just chatting over the phone with a friend. It's the voice and language that's screwing him up. Without the seductive front he puts on for clients it's harder to separate his persona from reality. And out of all his clients only this one spoke Nohrian, a language he used to only use with those close to him. It's incredibly stupid to let himself think about the caller as anything but strictly a client, but after a few months of this routine he can't deny that he's grown weirdly fond of Leo. If nothing else, he gives Zero a break from having to lie about wanting to let a stranger give it to him up the ass or listen to them jack off.
Zero's investing too much interest in a purely transactional relationship. He should pass this client's next call on to another operator, or at least take some steps to reinforce the division between reality and acting. He doesn't. The next few calls he spends like he has too many already— talking about random topics, letting his real personality override his work persona, spinning out the illusion that they're actually friends. Before he knows it, enough time has passed that he's looking forward to Leo's awkward phone calls as a bright spot in his week.
One winter night there's a slur to Leo's voice that's obviously from inebriation, and Zero can't resist the chance to satiate his curiosity.
So he asks the first question, "Why do you call me, Leo? You never actually want me to help you get off."
Leo breathes out a long, tired sigh that fizzes the speaker of his phone. "You speak Nohrian. Hardly anyone in this city speaks Nohrian."
He's talked about enough current events and festivals that Zero can guess the likely location even without knowing the area code of his phone number. "Shirazaki?"
"Yeah. I mean, it makes sense cause Nohr's on the other side of the world. But... I wish I didn't feel so alone here." Leo doesn't hesitate to admit. The booze has either taken away his inhibitions, or he might actually trust him… Zero isn't sure if he approves of the latter. "I can't afford a ticket home and back. But I really, really-"
Zero interrupts his rambling. "Do you have a job?"
"No." Another heavy sigh is heaved. "I'm attending university on a scholarship. If I get bad grades I lose it, I can't afford that."
Zero lets a pause stretch between them as he wracks his brain for a solution. It doesn't take too long before he has one. "Leo, your winter break is coming up, right? Even if you're busy when classes are in session, why not make a little money then and save it for a Spring Break trip?"
"...that's a really good idea. Thank you," Leo's thanks sounds genuinely heartfelt.
Rather than rumbling his standard sultry 'my pleasure' Zero flatly replies, "You're welcome."
—(x)—
He has visited 'Apron's Strings', Shirazaki's premier maid and butler café, countless times. It's where he'd met his on-again off-again girlfriend, and its storage closet is likely where Eponine had been conceived… which is relevant as to why he'd made the trip today. Felicia had left a message about wanting to plan a birthday party for their daughter at the end of the month, but more often than not she is impossible to reach by cellphone— having either dropped it in water or let the batteries go dead. So like a responsible father and lover, Zero has come to a place he'll most likely find her between the daytime hours of nine to five.
Felicia's sister, however, seems unappreciative of his efforts.
"How can I serve today, master?" While Flora's voice is sickeningly sugary sweet on the work mandated line, the way she's glaring at him is colder than the place's walk-in freezer.
He really doesn't think she's being fair, it's not like he's put his feet up on the table like last time. "I don't want any trouble-"
"You're nothing but trouble, Zero." Flora's never quite forgiven him for knocking Felicia up out of wedlock. "And you know I'm supposed to stick to Hoshidan while on the clock. Thank you."
"I want to talk with Felicia, please." He grits out the last word, staying civil despite just wanting to snipe back. He knows she's not above getting her manager, Jakob, who's a right pill and not someone Zero wants to deal with if he can avoid it.
Flora's cold look thaws a little. "Felicia's not here and won't be coming in today. Eponine's sniffles turned into the flu, so she's at home with her." Zero bites back a sigh, but thanks her and starts to get up. Before he can fully stand, Flora's glare is back and her hand on his shoulder shoves him right back into his seat. "Eat something first. I don't want Felicia trying to cook for you and filling the apartment with smoke."
"…fine." He orders the least frou-frou most filling item, and resists tossing the menu at her.
There's another perk to working over the phone— limited face-to-face interaction. Something about the artificial veneer to customer service always makes him want to rattle some teeth. Even just that small exchange has him itching to get back at Felicia's sister in some way… though subtly so it wouldn't come back to bite him on the ass later.
He spends the minutes waiting on the food with his good eye closed coming up with different methods, until he hears a familiar voice.
"Here is your omurice, master."
Zero looks up so fast, he's probably cricked his neck— but the possibility of discomfort is instantly forgotten as he takes in the man standing before his table.
He's young, face almost boyishly round, though he holds himself with the composure of maturity. The blond hair, pale skin, roundness of his eyes, and angles of his bone structure all point to his heritage being from the western side of the continent rather than Hoshido. Zero feels his mouth go dry at how the cut of the vest and jacket emphasizes the litheness of his build, how the criminal tightness of his pants leave very little to the imagination. The café's outfits cater to the master-servant fetish, but Zero hasn't ever taken the time to appreciate the male uniforms in this way before.
He who may-or-may-not be his client seems to ignore or be used to the way Zero's eyeing him up, and smoothly says in Hoshidan, "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
Keeping a grin off his face Zero swallows then nods. The young man's eyebrows furrow, but when he beckons him closer the blond leans in.
"I never would've guessed playing the servant was your kink, Leo," he lowly says in Nohrian.
Those dark eyes go wide and he actually takes a step back with a sharp inhale.
Despite how that reaction confirms his suspicions, and Zero can't help but continue, "Now that I'm 'master', should I ask you to lick my boots the next time we're on a call?"
A hot blush rises over Leo's pale face, but his eyes grow steely as he says with a no nonsense tone, "If you're willing to wait an hour when my shift is over, you can say it to my face then." He then turns sharply and strides off without waiting for a reply.
Zero doesn't know why, but the sudden show of spine has a smile on his face throughout the time he's in the café. Taking nearly an hour to eat his omlette proves to be the best payback as he watches Flora grow more and more agitated behind her polite mask. Her glare is particularly icy when he finally pays the check, undoubtedly annoyed at his procrastination and how he hadn't speedily freed up space for other customers with that table. So he blows her a kiss on the way out the front door.
It doesn't take much loitering until Leo steps out the café's back door, no longer in that tight uniform but instead casual clothing of dark colors. He doesn't jump in surprise over Zero waiting for him there in the back alley, simply turns to face him with a serious almost worried expression. He exhales hard before saying in Nohrian, "It's a problem that we've seen each other isn't it?"
As amusing as Zero'd finds Leo as a client uninterested in the actual services, he knows him to be far from dumb. Even if he'd only called the first time because of the prank, they'd have laid out the customer contract and he'd have had to agree. The hotline emphasizes that they value the privacy and anonymity of their clients, and the way they've been getting buddy-buddy is hardly professional— meeting in person is a step too far.
Zero nods. "I'm going to have to tell dispatch to block your number from my line. I can't keep you as a client."
Leo's voice rises with alarm, "Just because we've seen each other?!"
"Because I like talking to you, Leo, more than I should." Despite having fun messing with people, for some reason he felt like he owed a little honesty in this case.
Leo's expression screws up with shock, which fades into what he could only label as a frustrated pout. "I don't want to stop talking to you, Niles."
He laughs aloud at that, "That's not my actual name. It's Zero."
"Really…" The disbelieving, deadpan tone has him laughing again.
"Yeah, sucks right? The orphanage gave out serialized names, I just got the short end of the stick when they decided to do numbers." The blond gives a half-hearted nod, perhaps just accepting what he's shoveling because he thinks it's not worth putting up a fight over. It has Zero shaking his head, "But you don't need me anymore now that you've found this place."
"What do you mean?"
Zero gestures to the café. "Over half of the staff here can speak Nohrian. That was why you called me, wasn't it? Now you can talk to someone without having to pay for it."
Leo looks less than thrilled over the prospect. While he doesn't shuffle his feet, the blond shifts his weight nervously before saying, "I'd still like to keep talking with you, Ni- erm, Zero. You've helped me a lot this year and I'd rather… not lose touch."
The admittance isn't entirely unexpected, but still it has Zero feeling lighter than it should. He knows it would've been weird to cut off and never hear from Leo again, professionalism be damned. So, as nonchalantly as he can, Zero brings the folded receipt from his pocket and holds it out. "Well then, take this."
Leo takes it with a confused frown, turns it over, and finds what he'd written on the blank back. Zero notes how ridiculously thick his pale eyelashes are as his eyes go wide again. "I-is this your number?"
"Yep, for my personal phone." He gives Leo a slow, lingering look, one where his interest couldn't be mistaken. "You should ask me out for drinks sometime, Leo. I promise it's cheaper than calling on the hotline."
A/N:
Had this on the shelf, but dusted it off and finished it for Leoniles week AU day. The rating's on the high end because of Zero's vocabulary and behavior. This is set in the same verse as Bird's Milk. So take the fact that Leo's in Shirazaki attending university as you will ;)