A/N: So this comes as a loving dedication to Fandom Angst. This story is based upon, and takes place in, the world they created in "Creatures of the Underworld." I suggest you read their story with caution. But it is more than worth the read.
This story also features an original character of mine. Kristean Mitchell. To meet him further, you can always go to my Wattpad under Lady Angst and read "Hard Candy."
So the question was once asked between our two diabolical minds. What exactly would happen if the ruthless Akito of "Creatures" were to ever make the acquaintance of Mitchell. The answer...
...This...
Exotic, ice blue eyes took in the facility with a sense of intrigue and wonder as the two men continued to walk side by side through the vast estate. Both clothed in wealth and power, charm and looks. Both smiling and basking in their self-importance. Both sizing each other up in a brutally ruthless competition of sophistication and wit. A game of minds, and sport of the aristocrats, as they engaged in idle...pointless conversation. And that pale blue gaze drifted along their surroundings, completely impressed. A feat that many people who knew him found difficult to achieve.
"So tell me." The host and owner of the estate came well-spoken, his lithe voice coming smooth and charming in almost flawless English, his words touched and gently caressed with the lightest Japanese accent. "What brings you to Tokyo, Mr. Mitchell? Business? Or pleasure?" His deep onyx gaze came inquisitive, the makings of a small smile beginning to shape the corners of his lips.
"Please, call me Kris." The man's request came coolly nonchalant as the host gave a small, light chuckle in response to the demand that had been ignored several times during this conversation.
"My apologies, Mr. Mitchell. I must admit that my foreign diplomacy is somewhat lacking, of late." Kris' host purred politely as the small smile swept further along his striking features. "I so rarely get the privilege of entertaining guests from the westernized world, with its...laxed...etiquette. The east is simply infatuated with its many traditions and formality. A habit of my culture, I'm afraid."
"Really...? I hadn't noticed..." Kris murmured through a pleasant smile of his own, not missing the insultingly highbrow, almost patronizing tone of his host as he decided to brush it aside for the moment. "Well...I'm here on business, actually." His cold, pale blue gaze drank in the infinitesimal etchings of disappointment along his host's face as he continued. "But your establishment came highly recommended as a place to visit while I'm here from an acquaintance of mine." His voice came light and airy upon the makings of a chuckle towards a private joke as he continued. "She said that I was guaranteed to enjoy myself."
"How fascinating." The estate's master mused, his curiosity peeked with the slight quirk of a perfectly groomed brow. "You see, I make it a point not to publicly advertise this establishment's various services...for the privacy of its patrons, of course...so we pride ourselves on gaining new guests strictly through word of mouth from our most loyal clientele." The man murmured, more to himself now than to his esteemed guest. "I'm interested to learn which of our regulars would have spoken so highly to you of my estate."
"Gwendolyn Rossa." Kris offered up freely without hesitation, his tone casual and smooth as the two continued down yet another impressively decorated corridor.
"Ah, Madam Rossa! How delightful!" The man exclaimed almost gleefully, his dark gaze alight with a strange, almost sick sense of recognition. "She and her husband, Marcus Rossa, have invested a rather substantial amount in the way of shares in my company." He smiled to himself knowingly for a moment as he continued to boast before his voice dropped to a lower tone. "And both frequent my estate quite regularly."
"Hm..." Kris mused in consideration over this for a moment before murmuring in a tone of curious insinuation. "So... Do they come here together...or separately?" And a small chorus of lithe laughter loosed itself from the man's lips as he responded.
"Come now, Mr. Mitchell." The smile along the man's lips came almost sickeningly sweet and coy as his forward gaze drifted towards his guest. "The privacy of my patrons is of utmost importance. They come here seeking a safe haven." The man stretched his arms, splaying his fingertips towards the vast expanse of his estate. "A refuge away from the world, hm? And I simply can't jeopardize this priceless anonymity by speaking of their activities while here."
"Interesting..." Kris murmured quietly as they continued about their way through the grounds. "So they come here separately, then." At this ventured guess exotic pale blue eyes met dark onyx, and dark onyx in kind as the two shared a quiet moment of understanding of the Rossa's intimate dealings before the silence was dispersed by their tandem laughter over the scandalous situation.
"You really are a delightful man, Mr. Mitchell." And at this complement, Kris flashed his host a debonair grin.
"That's simply because you don't know me yet." Kris spoke effortlessly through his smile. "Trust me...once you do, I guarantee that you'll come to the same conclusion about me that everyone else has."
"Which is...?" The man murmured with interest.
"That I'm an insufferable bastard." And with this Kris' host broke into another light string of laughter.
"I simply must remember to thank Madam Rossa personally for her most generous recommendation the next time I see her." The man chortled happily to his esteemed guest. "It's nice to know that word of my estate has traveled so far." And as the two finally entered into a smaller, more intimate lounge, Kris was invited to sit by his well-dressed host.
"Would you care for anything, Mr. Mitchell?" The man murmured politely as cold pale blue eyes roamed over the newest space, taking in the few people reclining in whispered conversation.
"Cigarettes, if you have them." Came this pleasant request, followed by another delicate simper of response.
"I think you will be pleasantly surprised to find that there is very little that we do not offer here." The man replied.
And with these words, the man discreetly gained the attention of an attractive young boy mingling with some of the patrons at the lounge's open bar. The child's body was well dressed, like that of the owner of the estate, his hair seductively mussed with an angel's face that feigned innocence. But as soon as his hollow gaze met that of the host and estate's owner, his expression seemed to shift slightly in response as that well dressed body of his was almost submissively pulled into movement toward the two men. Movement that came far too painfully and overtly sensual in its nature to be natural.
...but the boy tried...
"Akito-Sama..." The child's voice came trained and lithesome in this greeting, followed by an equally delicate bow of submission that was greedily taken in by dark onyx eyes before he righted himself again.
"Ah, Yuki." The man gazed up at the boy, smiling genteelly from his seat before he spoke a formal order to the child in his native tongue as his deep onyx gaze followed another bow and the boy's dismissal before that same charismatic and charming smile swept along his delicate, strikingly handsome features.
"You said that you were here on business?" This question came pleasant and effortless in the way the man reengaged and navigated the conversation.
"I did." Kris conceded coolly.
"And what exactly is it that you do, Mr. Mitchell?" The man asked, his expression open and interested as he waited for reply.
"Music production."
"Production?" The man questioned with the raise of his brow and slight tilt of the head. "I honestly would have taken you to be more interested in being in the spotlight. You don't seem one for obscurity, Mr. Mitchell." And a frigid ice blue gaze met these antagonistic words with an even colder stare.
"Believe me." Kris murmured lightly through thin lips that began to twist into the smirk of a smile. "People know exactly who I am."
"Oh, I'm sure that they do." His host nodded, politely pandering to this statement.
"Besides..." Kris continued. "...I enjoy being the one pulling all the strings." He conceded to this fact. "I work better with complete control. It's more fun that way."
"I see." The man chuckled, rather enjoying the stimulating banter. "So what genera of music do you normally produce?"
"My production studio turns out alternative rock and heavy metal, mostly." Kris responded casually with the light shrug of his shoulders.
"Ah-ha!" This small chortle of laughter came followed by amusement-laced words and the high arch of well groomed brows. "What is that saying of your industry again?" The man mused to himself before his gaze drifted back towards his guest. "'Sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll', is it?'" And the lightest chuckle manifested in response to the overly entertained man.
"Something like that." Kris conceded with a smile of his own.
"Well then, I must say that I too have adopted a life mantra of sorts that you might enjoy, then." The man's tone came charismatic as Kris dutifully listened. "Everything in the world is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power." And the smile along Kris' lips began to spread and grow in appreciation.
"Oscar Wilde." Kris chuckled in determination of the source of these words. "Very nice."
"I must admit you surprise me with your knowledge of classic literature."
"Well, we American's aren't all nearly as culturally backwards as you think we are." Kris mused courteously, his exotic pale blue gaze penetrating that of his host as the man absorbed this subtle yet pointed barb laced in civility. "Only most of us."
"So tell me something, then, Mr. Mitchell..." The man's words came lowly murmured through the smaller space as he gained his footing in this conversation once more. "...what do you think of my estate, hm?" The man practically purred in his almost flawless English, leaning himself in as pale blue eyes flickered with amusement at this man's painfully obvious and overt pandering. "Since your standards and tastes clearly reflect a level of class and sophistication." These words came well placed, like an invisible strike from the back of his hand, and the smile along Kris' lips only grew under this covert slight.
"I have to say I'm pretty impressed." These words came smooth in the lightest of murmur. "This place is really nice for a whore house." These words came along the sardonic smile of his lips as he watched his host's expression falter infinitesimally at the bluntness of this indelicate statement before the man recovered himself among the few other guests discreetly relining in the lounge.
"This facility operates as a social club." The man whispered, his tone and expression serious in the face of this correction. "I make a point to cater and tend to every need of my guests at their leisure and expense." He elaborated, black onyx eyes delving into ice blue as he spoke...his voice just a bit lower and more menacing. "My estate is a far cry from some common 'whore house'."
"So your facility doesn't offer that type of service?" This question came biting in its inference, features gently shaped in open, candid curiosity with the furrowing of delicate brows. "Pity..." This declaration of disappointment came along the sigh pushed through his nose. "I must have been misled." These words floated through the space between them until the two men were momentarily disturbed by that same demure child from the bar as drinks and cigarettes were offered before he silently took his place in waiting at the host's side.
Taking a slow sip of the hard liquor through the thin cocktail straw, deep, rich onyx eyes came to scrutinize their opponent as pale blue did the same. And again, that same fiendish smile crept along the man's lips as a soft, knowing chuckle manifested through the growing quiet.
"As I said before." He gently murmured to his guest, his debonair smile growing sickeningly sweet. "I make it a point to cater and tend to 'every' need of my guests..."
"At a price, of course." Kris clarified, leaving his own drink unattended for the moment as his fingertips gingerly made their way towards the pack of cigarettes to fish one out and light it.
"Of course, Mr. Mitchell." These words came cordial and lithe in their admittance. "I am running a business, after all, and need to make sure that all of the luxuries I offer can be paid for."
"And here I am, still unclear as to what these 'luxuries' might be..." Kris countered through a small curl of smoke, feigning ignorance as another smile from his host came in response. "It'd be nice to know what you expect me to pay for."
"Anything that you can imagine in the way of pleasures." Came this veiled statement as Kris watched his host discreetly direct him to look around the small lounge, at all of the lovely, beautiful people mingling and consorting with each other, and the young boy at his side. "Whatever it might be...that is what I offer to you."
"Really...?" Kris murmured lightly. "So Gwen wasn't exaggerating about this place, then."
"Whatever she told you was most likely the truth." The man offered with a wry, devilishly suave smile. "Unless she spoke of me personally. Then only half of those stories are true."
"Interesting..." Came this lightest whisper through smoke as an exotic blue stare met dark onyx. "Well," Kris sighed as the cigarette came gracefully poised between his fingers, his cold gaze fixed upon his host. "unfortunately for you and your business, I find the whole idea of paying for sex pretty distasteful." And the arch of well groomed brows came in response to this candidly blunt statement.
"Fascinating." The man murmured, gazing through the obscurity and veil of smoke as his own lips met his drink once more. "Yet again you quite surprise me." He spoke lightly in consideration and a level of curiosity over his guest. "I certainly didn't expect you to be a man of prudish nature."
"Oh no, it's not that at all." Kris' words came even and smoothly dismissive of this misconception through another curl of smoke. "I've just never seen the point in paying for something that I have no problem getting for free." And this only seemed to cause more amusement for his host as the man let out another string of lithe laughter.
"Well I imagine not all are as fortunate in their conquests as you are, Mr. Mitchell." The man purred through another sip of his drink. "If they were, I suppose I would be out of a lot of money, hm?"
"But..." The man continued to muse, having finished his drink and placed it along one of the expensive looking side tables as the child next to him stood in silence, gazing intently at the now empty glass. "...you must have grasped by now that what my estate offers is far more than just 'sex'." That deep onyx gaze came penetrating under this statement as ice blue met them in intensity. "What we sell to you...is an 'experience'." This statement came lithe and lowly murmured with the makings of a truly diabolical grin. "And I think that is something that you could come to appreciate. For a man who enjoys being in control...the ultimate thrill of complete dominance and power at your fingertips. Just imagine... Wouldn't that be worth the expense, Mr. Mitchell?" The man coolly questioned with the slowed raise of a single brow, only to be met with a delicate curl of smoke and an unimpressed expression.
"Like I already said." Kris murmured through another exhale of smoke, his features icy and lacking in emotion. "I've never seen the point in paying for something that I get for free."
"That's truly disappointing to hear." This lamentation came followed by a gentle sigh pushed through the man's delicate nose. "You really have no idea what you would be missing." The man whispered, his onyx gaze flitting from the floor back to his guest once more. "Some of our women are breathtakingly gifted in the ways of obedience and submission."
The discreet movement of the hand. The infinitesimal brushing of fingers along pale flesh. Fingertips twitching in response to the touch, lightly trembling at the tactile sensation against the back of the hand. The boy's eyes obediently drifting down to Kris' host, as the man's deep onyx gaze continued to take in and scrutinize the guest of honor. But that small, almost unconscious human contact came so profoundly intimate. In that moment...with this almost insignificant gesture towards the despondent young man...Kris' host had shown far too much of himself. Had made himself far too vulnerable in the face of his opponent. Without even realizing it. And Kris found it so terribly amusing. This man, who truly believed himself untouchable in this underworld of his making, had just revealed that his heart didn't linger in his chest...because he had long given it over to this empty vessel of a body beside him. Haunting him like a ghost. And this revelation was all it took as a wide, frighteningly predatory smile spread across Kris' lips.
And he began to laugh.