Author's note : Wrote this on a whim. Not an original plot, but this is different from all the other fics in ff. That's because I based all of this on firsthand personal experience.
Warning: OOC, AU, yaoi, mature content, long-winded fic. English is also not my mother tongue. EDITED
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Kuroshitsuji.
Falling in love is not for me...
Sure, the way he tastes still lingers in my mouth, and his face etched in my memory is undeniable in all honest truth. But he looked the same in every way to every boy he shares his table with. I'm not the only one.
Porcelain hands held gloved fingers with adoration as he listened to my companion, a blonde bimbo who's dick is bigger than his brain (and it's not a compliment). The thin lips smirked before descending to the exposed neck, the receiver hummed his approval in a pathetic attempt to be erotic. Still, who am I to feel disgust? It is not my place to complain, let alone to judge.
I'm just Ciel. An 18 year-old host in Gwiyomi, a Karaoke bar that caters exclusively to foreigners, with our services ranging from pouring Scotch Blue in delicate shot glasses to going out with our guests in exchange for money. It's a high-class brothel, to be precise, minus the trashy strippers and the smell of sex in the air. But we're all the same. We're still sluts.
Slut. I whispered inside my head as Finny leaned a little too close at him. His crimson pupils widened, handsome face etched with surprise as the blonde murmured something at his delicate ear, before it was nipped by a pair of cherry glossed appendages. Much to my dismay, I noticed the that pair of hands adorned with black lacquer went south to take its place on top of the creamy legs which was one of that bitch's asset.
He was the same to me a few days ago, when he came with a different friend who chose me and Alois to amuse them. Perhaps, that's how he is, nice to every slut in Gwiyomi.
Maybe Sebastian's just like that.
I look at the interesting spectacle before me with a bit of envy as I stuff a piece of beef jerky in my guest's mouth. An old Asian man with slanted eyes and a bulging belly. I cringed as he tries to hit a high note from a song more ancient than the Star Strangled Banner (no offense to Americans though. And yes, I think I'm funny). I smiled pretentiously as not to offend him, but I allowed my sapphire orbs to glare as soon as he turned his back at me.
Endure... I breathed out as sneaky hands crawled to my waist, my gloved hands clenched in resistance to the basic instinct to slap the pervert. Another trouble will cost 50 dollars subtracted from my pay, and I'm not too keen on losing more money after that fiasco with Joseph, a regular who likes to complain in order to save money. People these days should really burn in hell.
"You, so pretty!" my customer patted my head and I stuck out my tongue in a cute gesture which disguised my annoyance. "How about we meet after you finish work?"
Another of these O.B. types. Going out with customers without permission from the manager will cost me 150 dollars. And I bet he wouldn't even pay me after the 'session'. Cheapskate.
"Too busy, oppa!" I used the term which pacified most Korean jerks that dared enter the lair. However I braced myself for the storm.
1...
2...
3...
"Call manager! Change partner!"
One of these days, I'm going to murder a son of a bitch.
"I'm out, that guy's a pauper." I stormed inside the dressing room, struggling in my 11-inched stiletto heels in shocking pink while pulling the blue Japanese schoolgirl skirt uniform that barely covered my ass. I sat beside Alois, who was enjoying dreamland in our wooden bench and oblivious to my sorrow while the lifted skirt exposed his red thong.
The floor manager, a pretty Latina with gigantic boobs barely contained in her office attire, clicked her tongue as she twirled a lock of silver hair on her finger. "Days like this ... show up!"
The cross-dressing males scrambled around retouching make-up and hair, and I can almost pity the future chosen one. Customers like that are a bother to the profit. Alois seemed to know too, as he did not bother to fix himself, an indication that he doesn't like the guest.
"Over already?" Sleeping Beauty finally woke up and graced me with his presence, the eyeliner that rimmed his sky blue eyes barely smudged from his nap.
"Trust me, that's the table you wouldn't want to sit with." I lend him my pink lipstick to fix his makeup, noting how he expertly swiped it on his lips without a mirror at hand.
"He's too ugly to expect free sex from us. What the hell is he useful for if he doesn't have dough in his stupid piggy bank? My ass don't take credit cards, and I don't think your ass accepts MasterCard."
"Well, let's wait till Bard kicks his drunk butt down the stairs." Not even a joke, the head security really literally beat crap out of molesters who can't afford it.
I let Alois lay his head on my lap, not minding the ticklish sensations from his fair locks. There were no words between us for a few moments, in a silent agreement to talk about the real issue at home, where no prying ears dare to eavesdrop.
I know he knows about Michaelis, and the awkward moment I just survived through. I know about Faustus, and his attempts to woo my buddy for free sex. But the personal issues about our guests are not to be mentioned in public, especially in front of jealous colleagues. This may be a shameless job, but it's better to stay out of everybody's way and hold it in.
We should be canonized for our patience and discrepancy. I snickered secretly. Saint Ciel and Most Venerable Alois sounds wrong in many ways.
"You should really stop drinking Scotch Blue, bitch. It's taking a toll on your sanity." I raised a brow at Alois' statement, only to realize it's not for me.
Apparently, Finny just returned from the table, face sporting a blank expression. It's means either of the two things: A. Sebastian's taking him home, or B. Sebastian got bored of him and decided to leave.
"Bar fine?" Alois dared to ask. Finny shook his blond head, and I repressed the urge to sigh. That's a relief.
"By the way, Ciel. Sebastian says sorry for what his client did to you. He also said that Mr. Hyun Joong is really a pervert and blah blah blah. You know, like a regular bitch."
"Yeah, whatever." I pretended not to care. I directed my attention to fixing my blush on, just to keep my hands busy. In reality, I'm quite happy.
At least he cared.
"He'll be waiting for me later after work, and if you're not busy, you can tag along!" The green eyes sparked with secret mischief. "But I know you'll be doing your laundry later, so I told him that you won't be available."
"Yeah, gee thanks." I replied lamely. Of course, expect Finny to keep him all to himself. I grumbled inwardly, but there is no way I can complain.
Life at Gwiyomi is just like that. A competition that is fiercer than Top Model.
I felt Alois silently tapped my shoulders, his way of saying 'we'll get back at this slut soon'. With a last touch of lip gloss, I'm determined to play this game rough.
The morning sun touched the sky with a tinge of pink, and the cool July air swiftly kissed my cheeks like a consolation. Except for the buzzing cars and bright city lights, the atmosphere gave me an impression of peace. Fake peace. It's just a calm after the storm. I sipped the hot French Vanilla fresh from 7-11, while Alois opted to give a lollipop some weird fellatio, his tongue twirling menacingly at the tip before sucking it forcefully. Dressed in casual jeans and shirt, we waited patiently for Grell, the red-haired gay stylist whom we had the pleasure of living with in the boarding house. He makes life less boring with his antics, though sometimes it irritates the hell out of me.
"Here he comes." I looked up, expecting to see the pretty gay with hair that's to die for, but instead, my eyes caught sight of Finny. The blank expression made me shudder in excitement, 'coz I know the reason why he's upset.
"Care to explain?" his normally cheery voice was laced in poison, but I did not falter. Instead, I smirked.
"Is this about Viscount Druitt? I know he's your guest, custard, but it's not my fault that he chose me for the night."
"Bitch, please. You did that on purpose. Was this to spite me, huh? Are you envious because of Sebastian?"
"You know, you're a hopeless case, Fin. I thought you're going out with Sebastian tonight? What's with the bitching?"
He glared ferociously at me. The kind that says 'cat fight' in bold letters. Painted nails reached out to grab me, but my reflexes were fast. I quickly dodged his attack and splashed the hot cup of my beverage at him. His mascara and eyeliner blurred and melted, the ugly stains tainted his blemish free face. Just like a worthless harlequin.
Serves you right.
"Why you-!"
"Hey! What the fuck is going on here?" Grell swiftly came between us, the red stilettos made him 5 inches taller than he is. Glasses perched on top of his crimson head, the naked eyes glared daggers between me and Finny.
"This fucker started it!" the soaking blonde pointed an accusing finger at me, while I shrugged with indifference. Leave it to the bimbo to be so mature. Alois finally decided to remove the candy from his mouth to play lawyer, but a deep baritone voice beat him to it.
"Ciel's telling the truth. Finny was the one who attacked him first."
Straight, black locks framed his oval face, with a few strands falling to his perfect nose. Carmine pupils pierced straight into Grell's emerald ones in pure conviction. The thin lips smirked playfully as he directed the intimidating gaze at me. Judging from his black suit and tie, he had been waiting outside for 3 hours. I can still smell the scotch and cigarettes that lingered on his clothes. Behind him, a topaz-eyed male wearing a similar apparel leaned casually on a white Porsche, specs tucked on his chest as he watched us with a bored expression.
"Ugh! It's Claude." the lollipop was tucked promptly on the glossed lips. I wanted to bitch slap the hell out of my friend. Disgust was written all over him, but it is Claude that we're talking about.
"My, my... You're quite a handsome man. I must say." Grell leered, exposing razor-sharp teeth that can outshine the shark's fangs at Jaws.
"Hello, Sebastian?! In case you forgot, it's me that you asked out on a date." Thin brows raised in question. The ravenette turned his head to Finny.
"Yeah, he asked you on a date. Before you get into a bitch fight. Unfortunately, Sebastian here hates classless people." Claude waltzed to our direction, his hips slightly swaying. One of the reasons why the now bespectacled man is hated: he's brutally frank. I pursed my glossed lips as I engage in a glaring contest with the dirty blonde.
If this doesn't end this, maybe my fists will.