A/N: In honor of Kyoko Ren Week, I offer up a trashy fic featuring an unhealthy relationship dynamic. Shocking, I know. I present to you, dear reader, a bartender au. Smutty, angsty, sometimes fluffy, and, at times, really, really cheesy. Also, it takes place in the US, for no real discernible reason. AND I'm not thrilled about the title, so I might change it.

"You can't smoke here," she told him curtly.

He flicked his lighter, pretending not to hear, as she leveled him with warning glare. He raised his eyebrow and her eyes turned murderous, so he dutifully put the cigarette back in his pack. By the time he lifted his head, she'd already turned away and was pouring someone else a drink. It was always like this, but for some reason he never got tired of baiting her. Maybe it was because she never stopped reacting to it.

That prat, she mumbled under her breath. He knew damn well that smoking wasn't allowed, but he thought he deserved special treatment. Did he expect her to fawn over him like the sad, desperate women who took him home every night? So what if he had impossibly blonde hair that might actually be natural, and eyes that sparkled like twinking emeralds? Ha, like she was impressed. Sho was her prince, even if… She shook her head, pushing away the familiar doubts. That kind of thinking wouldn't do her any good.

"Is this seat taken?"

Kuon turned his head toward the pretty blonde.

"It is now."

She breathed out a laugh, brushing her breasts against him as she slid onto the stool next to his, before crossing her legs so that more of her thighs were exposed.

"Can I get you something to drink?".

"Martini, straight up, very dry," she smiled, running a finger along the neckline of her dress.

He turned his head and there was his favorite bartender, with the usual annoyed expression on her face, already mixing the drink. She placed the glass on a napkin and pushed it toward his companion with a smile, which fell from her lips the moment she was briefly forced to face him mid turn.

Playboy, she thought bitterly, cursing him with ill fortune and erectile dysfunction as she wiped down the bar. After finishing their round, it was the usual display, performed by rote as if directed by a script.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

The whole thing made her stomach churn. It was predictable and cheap and empty. Kyoko hoped that girl wasn't entertaining any ideas about the future, because she never saw that emperor of the night go home with the same person twice. Not that she was paying enough attention to him to notice, of course. Why would she? Stupid playboy jerk.

"It's a graveyard," Kanae observed, "let's close up early."

"Huh, you're right."

Kyoko hadn't even noticed. She took out the trash and locked up the back, before helping flip the chairs and mop up. Even though it was early, there was no real reason for her to rush home. No one would be waiting for her - she learned that lesson a long time ago. Instead of cooking an elaborate dinner and eagerly listening by the door, she'd have a simple meal alone and go to bed. She smacked her cheeks and Kanae gave her a pointed look, but she just smiled.

"Goodnight!" she called cheerfully, heading out the door.

"Yeah," Kanae grumbled, locking it behind her.

For the millionth time she wondered what Kanae's apartment above the bar looked like, hoping once again that one day they'd be close enough for her to be invited up. If there was one thing Kyoko was good at, it was patiently waiting for someone. Hell, she'd been doing it her entire life.

Kuon never stayed the night. Things didn't get confusing that way, and he was more comfortable in his own bed and his own apartment. There was no one to feign worry about him as he drank himself into unconsciousness, while picking at a microwaveable dinner. Sometimes he'd see the scornful face of that bartender in his head and he'd smile to himself. Was she clairvoyant? Did she so disdain him because she could see inside him, and disliked him because she knew what he really was? He laughed despite himself at his own stupidity, trudging down the hallway and collapsing onto the bed, knowing unconsciousness would take him soon.

"I'm home," she whispered to no one, as she pushed open the door.

The apartment was dark and empty, just like she knew it would be. She closed her eyes, lowering her head and forcing her lips into a smile, while releasing a deep breath.

"Okay," she perked up, raising her fists in triumph.

She wasn't going to let this get her down! Kyoko Mogami was stronger than this, and she was not going to be so easily defeated! With renewed vigor, she set down her things and marched to the kitchen to get dinner started. As always, once she'd begun she felt infinitely better, hypnotized by the knife's rhythm as she expertly chopped the vegetables. Cooking was never a chore, no, this was her happy place. This was where she felt the most calm and confident. It was a simple meal but balanced and delicious, and there were enough leftovers for lunch the next day. Sho never came home but that was alright, he was probably just overwhelmed with work.

He dragged a hand down his face and opened his eyes blearily, using his arm to block out the more aggressive rays of sunlight streaking in through the blinds. As always, he never seemed to stay asleep for long, even when he would've preferred to. He clenched his eyes shut, released a heavy breath, and reached for the bottle of aspirin on the night table. Three pills ought to do it, he thought, and if not, then it didn't really matter. Throbbing pain in his skull? Eh, he was pretty used to it now. He downed the usual black cup of instant coffee, and was ready to start his day, or at least, something close enough to it.

She stretched and yawned as she opened her eyes, releasing the fluffy ram pillow that was hugged to her chest. Kyoko believed in starting the day with a nutritious breakfast, and after a quick tidying up of the apartment, she was off to her job at the coffee shop. It took a lot out of her, working so many hours, but supporting Sho's dream was worth it. One day she'd get back what she put in, she just knew it. The struggle of getting through each day would eventually be a distant memory she could look back on with fondness, her and Sho together. She left him a message saying so after she clocked out, and headed for the bar.

It was a slow night, which was nice since she was feeling pretty tired, but fewer customers meant less money she'd be taking home. When the pretend fairy playboy walked in, she felt almost relieved, since the tips he gave were unreasonably generous. He probably only did it to make himself look good, so she wasn't going to let herself feel guilty. A jerk like that? Screw him, but not actually, because she had standards. Why was she even thinking about that?

She smiled when the text came through on her phone, perfect timing. Normally she wouldn't check it at work, but it was a message from Sho and she hadn't seen him in a few days. A picture? She opened it eagerly and her face fell, every bit of strength she kept up through sheer force of will was gone, and tears pricked at the back of her eyes. Hastily, she ran to the rear door, hoping to keep it together until she was alone.

When he saw the look on her face, he couldn't help it. His body reacted without intervention from his brain, and he followed after her, finding her crouched down and sobbing in the alley behind the bar. He reached a hand toward her and then pulled it back, clenching his fist. Every instinct said to hug her, but if she really disliked him so much, then that would probably only make things worse.

"I'm fine, I just need a minute," she assured, at the sound of the door closing.

"You don't look fine."

Her head snapped in his direction, shocked to see who it was that followed her. She quickly wiped her tears and stood, face defiant.

"Don't pretend to care," she warned, her tone taking on a hard edge.

That was fine. If she was angry at him then maybe she'd be too distracted to cry.

"Isn't checking on someone when they're upset the polite thing to do?"

"Ha!" She scoffed, narrowing her eyes, "what a thoughtful playboy you are. Do you tuck your conquests in before you sneak out of bed? Leave tissues on the pillow for when they wake up alone?"

Wow, she really wasn't holding back. He almost wanted to smile, even if it was oddly disappointing that she had such a low opinion of him. Instead of trying to defend himself, he just let the words disappear into the night air. No matter what he said, she wouldn't believe him, and who cared about her opinion anyway? He took a deep breath and pulled out a cigarette.

"You can't smoke here."

"We're outside," he ignored her, flicking his lighter.

She walked up to him, ripped the cigarette out of his mouth, threw it on the ground, and smashed it under her shoe.

"I don't care."

"You know," his voice grew darker as he took a step forward, "that wasn't very nice."

She looked up at him with fire in her golden eyes, and it was so hard to keep his face impassive. She was just so fierce but so predictable, and he really did enjoy getting under her skin. At least the distraction seemed to be working, maybe a little too well.

"You deserve worse," she spat.

What the hell was his problem? He chose right then to pick a fight with her?

"You're probably right."

She moved back as he took another step forward, her heart beating furiously in her chest. What exactly was his game?

"What are y-"

Her eyes went wide as she collided with the wall, and he stood mere inches away, towering over her.

"I was just thinking. If you won't let me smoke, then I need something else to do with my mouth."

His stupid, sparkly, gemstone eyes pinned her in place, boring holes in her skull.

"Your m-mouth…"

Why did her face feel so hot? He grabbed hold of her hand and lifted it, and her pelvic muscles contracted suddenly. She stopped breathing.

What the hell? This wasn't how she was supposed to react! She was supposed to yell or curse him, or start swinging her fists. All he was trying to do was get her riled up, so she wouldn't think about what had her so upset. It didn't seem possible that she was actually attracted to him, but when she bit her lip, looking up at him with what he could almost swear was desire, he needed to find out. With his pulse pounding in his ears, and the resolute knowledge that he was absolutely going to hell if there was one, he brought her hand to his mouth and bit down on her finger.

He was searching for some signal from her that he should stop, but she didn't give him one. Aside from the rise and fall of her chest, she didn't move an inch. He blinked, and then again, wondering just how bad an idea this was, before dragging his teeth down her skin and then licking. She gasped, leaning further into the wall, and turned her head away from him. Fine then, if that was the game she wanted to play, then the least a playboy like him could do was oblige.

It was shameful how her body was reacting to him. How long was it since she'd last been touched? Long enough that she couldn't remember, but it wasn't fair that he was so stupidly attractive. Was she actually doing this? Her mind flashed back to the image on her phone, and she no longer cared, not so long as he could make her forget.

His breath was hot against her palm, and he licked a path across her skin that made her shiver. Her eyes closed, bracing herself to the wall with her other hand, as he sucked a finger into his mouth and massaged it with his tongue. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips. Was she really so desperate that such a small thing had her so worked up? She was pathetic and disgusting, but then one of his hands was on her hip and all she wanted was for him not to stop.

The way her body responded was making it really hard for him to hold back, but just how far did she intend to let this go? Each soft little murmur spurred him on, and he wanted to see what other sounds she would make for him. His hand trailed down her hip, fingers pressing hungrily into her flesh, and he wanted more. With a final drag of his teeth, he pinned the hand he'd been playing with above her head, and bent over her. He moved slowly, waiting for some sign that she wasn't into it, but he found none.

Kyoko had no idea what she was doing, but she could feel his lips against her neck and he was palming her ass, and she didn't care anymore which way was up. When his knee parted her thighs, she wantonly ground herself against his leg, desperate for some friction. His mouth trailed a path up her skin, teasing with his tongue and nipping at her jaw. She was losing her mind but it didn't matter, not so long as he kept it up.

She lifted one leg, angling herself closer, and he chuckled breathily against her skin. He was such a bastard, but she really did want to screw him now. Whatever happened to her standards apparently died when she saw that picture, or maybe she just stopped lying to herself. This was what he did right, so then why was he holding back?

"Are you always this impatient," he whispered, tickling her with his breath.

"Don't speak."

"How will you stop me?"

She took the hand he didn't have pinned and grabbed hold of that stupid, unreasonably soft hair, and pulled his mouth to hers. He tasted like strong liquor and cigarettes, but she didn't care because he felt too good. His lips moved with practiced skill, his tongue flicking and licking hers, and she was burning up from the inside out. Finally he gave in, lifting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist, and she could feel him, hard and throbbing, even through their clothes. He pinned her to the wall with his body, the firm planes of his chest pressing against her breasts, and his large hands gripping her thighs.

"Next time you should wear a skirt," he struggled, grinding against her.

"Don't speak," she warned, yanking on his hair and pulling him back in for another kiss.

Next time, she thought, what a horrible joke. Like she didn't know what a playboy he was. Only now, he was exactly what she needed.

Maybe it's true what they say, that it's better when the other person hates you, because this was fucking incredible. The taste of her skin, and the way she bit at his lips; the press of nails along his scalp, and the feel of her thighs around him, left him feeling hypnotized. Was this real? Their clothes were on, but it almost didn't matter. If she wasn't already his favorite bartender before, she definitely was now, but he could hardly believe it. They were rubbing against each other like teenagers, in the alley behind the bar, where anyone could…

The sound of a clearing throat brought them back to earth and she instantly stepped down, shoving him back like close proximity would infect her. He wasn't surprised, but it still didn't feel great. Part of him wanted to get a picture of her face like that, red as a tomato, to tease her with. She'd be furious.

"I don't really care what you do, but Kanae probably won't appreciate you blowing off work to fraternize with a customer."

Kyoko's face was on fire. How did she completely forget where she was and what she was supposed to be doing? Thank God it was Chiori, she didn't even want to think what would've happened otherwise. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, smoothed out her clothes, and rushed back inside. Hopefully he wouldn't follow her. Right now she didn't have the courage to face him, not after that. Just what was she doing, and what exactly would she have done if they hadn't been interrupted?

"Mo, if you keep scrubbing that hard, you're going to damage the varnish."

Kanae was glaring at her when she raised her head, and she realized she'd been vigorously scouring one area of the bar. She'd been too afraid to look up and see him, and she didn't want to check if he'd left or not. This was a mess. How long was it until close?

He leaned against the wall, the one he had her up against just a few minutes before, and took a long drag off his cigarette. She'd really surprised him; he definitely had no idea the night would turn out like this. Of course, now that he knew where provoking her could lead, he had no intention of stopping. Maybe she wasn't the only one who needed distracting, and he was more than ready to lose himself between her legs. He decided to walk home, not wanting to push his luck too much in one night. It was funny, if he didn't know better he'd almost swear he was in a good mood. Maybe he really was a masochist.

At last she was home, and could finally get some damn peace. She pushed the door open, and… Sho? What the hell was he doing here? Normally she'd have been so happy to see him, but right then that was the last thing she needed. The picture was all but forgotten with the vivid memory of that playboy's lips, and she didn't know how to face him. Were they even now? The thought made her feel sick.

Shit, he thought, looking at her. Did she see it or not? Why did women have to be such a pain?

"Kyo-"

"I'll make dinner as soon as I shower!" she yelled behind her, rushing straight past him.

What was she thinking? Of course he already ate, and now she was ignoring him. She saw it didn't she, and she was upset, and that's why she wasn't even looking in his direction, when she normally stared at him like a lovestruck puppy. He wondered if he could smooth things over by sleeping with her, since that usually fixed things. It had been a while, he realized, so he probably should've even if she didn't see the picture, just as insurance.

He was almost never there when she got home, so why did it have to be that night of all times? Was she cursed? Was it divine punishment for her shameless behavior? She was wanton and indecent, and all she could think about, as the water beat down on her, was how good it felt.

"Be strong, Kyoko!" she told herself, but it was useless.

She pulled the shower head down and held it between her legs, until her whole body trembled and she was ready to collapse. Even then, she was still frustrated. Why did Sho have to come home now? Selfish bast- she shook her head. What the hell kind of thought was that? He was her prince. He was her life. They had a future together, and that's what she was working so hard for. How could she forget that? This was no good.

Why did women have to be so much trouble? The girl who sent the picture, well it didn't matter how amazing her breasts were, Sho had no tolerance for someone trying to control his life like that. Besides, she couldn't even cook, so there was no way he'd let her screw things up for him with Kyoko. Even if she was acting totally weird and avoiding him like her life depended on it. At least she didn't seem angry, but that's what was great about her. If she actually did see it, then she'd just end up forgiving him anyway. She always did.

A/N: Welp! Stay tuned for chapter 2 next week. Also, I have not forgotten about The Rules, I just am super blocked with the current chapter :/