"Why can't I touch you?"
It was a question Kaoru had asked Cassandra multiple times before. Each time he had been met with a dismissive smile, a change of subject, or a simple apology. She had no shame in bearing her body to him, showing off all the scars and tattoos on her milky white skin. There were stories behind the scars-one was a burn from a kitchen mishap, another on her thigh from the time she had taken too many antidepressants and thought she'd be numb forever, the small incision from her appendix removal. Then there was the ugly scar on her back, just beneath her right shoulder blade, the reason why she always kept a gun.
"I think we should stop this." Cassandra's voice had been quiet. She had rolled away from him, leaving him sticky with sweat and his own cum drying on his stomach. He could only watch with confused eyes as she stood up from his bed and unceremoniously removed the strap-on she'd used on him, slick with lubricant.
"Why?" He knew better than to ask. Intimacy with Cassandra wasn't something that came easy. She was domineering, forceful. Despite this, he longed for her. He wanted to push inside of her and fuck her until she came, just as she did for him. The first time he tried, she'd thrown him away from her with a surprising strength. He could touch her breasts, her face, her hips, maybe her ass if he was lucky. But anything that could result in her experiencing true pleasure was immediately met with rejection.
"Because you ask so many goddamn questions." Her words were laced with venom. He knew she didn't mean it. She had been defensive ever since he'd known her. She could be worse than Hikaru.
"Then I'll stop asking." He'd meant it, too. They'd had this arrangement for three months. Even though she'd been emotionally distant and cold, he'd been able to sense her guard slipping. She had been clear from the beginning that she would never have a relationship with him, even though the feelings were there.
"Like hell you will." She'd pulled on her jeans and tank top, not bothering with a bra. He could see the rounded barbells in her nipples poking through her shirt. "This is over, Kao."
They would remain civil. Hikaru liked her too much for Kaoru to stop allowing her to come over. He would pretend that he didn't mind when she showed up to their apartment smelling of sex and cologne. He would pretend not to mind when she announced that she was moving in with her boyfriend and wouldn't be coming over as often. And he'd listen to her spout off when things eventually ended and she moved in with another lover after another.
He wondered if they had something he didn't.
But there was no sense in focusing on something that happened nearly a year and a half ago.
Kaoru kept odd hours thanks to his early morning shifts as a barista at Coffee & Spoon, a local hipster joint that was within short walking distance from his apartment. It was exhausting work for him-not because of the 5 am start time, but because of the constant interaction. He often failed at that aspect, but he made a damn good cup of coffee, so the owner allowed him to stay on. Still, he could appreciate being able to express himself freely with polished nails and the light makeup he'd learned to perfect. His customers didn't mind if he showed up to work with stubble or in one of his favorite bohemian-style skirts.
He came home knowing that Cassandra would be there. She'd been there more often than not over the last few months. She wouldn't explain to either him or Hikaru about what had happened with her most recent relationship, other than giving a few choice words whenever his name was brought up.
He opened the door to hear Haruhi's voice ringing through the small space. "He's such a prick, Hika, you have no idea. Not only does he expect me to show up at least 15 minutes early, he requires, and I quote 'excellent upkeep of my personal appearance, both in the office and in front of clients'."
''Want me to kill him?" Hikaru and Cassandra spoke at the same time, an annoying habit they'd picked up.
"Could make it a contest, see who gets to him first." Kaoru smirked, surveying the scene as he stepped inside. The apartment was cleaner than normal, inspection having been the day before. It wouldn't take long before the smell of smoke would overtake the air freshener they'd used and for the bottles and food containers to start piling up again. "Who are we talking about?"
"My asshat of a boss, Kyoya Ootori." Haruhi groaned. She was laying on the leather couch with her bare feet in Hikaru's lap. She still wore her work clothes,a simple button-up shirt and pencil skirt that barely brushed the top of her knees. "He sent me home early today for whatever reason."
"Is that such a bad thing?" Kaoru asked. He tossed his keys and wallet on the coffee table before joining Cassandra in the kitchen. She appeared to be in the middle of measuring out coffee for what was probably her third pot of the day.
"If I knew why it wouldn't be so bad. I keep expecting that-" she up her work phone, a much newer model than any of them could afford, "-to go off at any time."
"Fuck 'em. Once he realizes how hard you work he'll leave you alone." Hikaru rubbed her feet soothingly. They all knew how long Haruhi had fought to earn a position as a legal assistant. She was better than the rest of them; she had goals and ambition. As much as Kaoru adored her, he was surprised she even stayed around them.
"You've gone natural on me." Cassandra turned her attention to Kaoru, indicating the nude polish he wore on his square-shaped nails. Her words were slightly slurred. He didn't let himself think about why. Not when she was around, anyway. If she would refuse to be vulnerable around him, he would do the same.
"I'm surprised you can even work in a kitchen with nails like those." His eyes rested on her long, glittery blue nails. "Aren't they worried about health codes?"
"I go through a lot of gloves." Her hands trembled slightly as she started the coffee maker. "'Sides, I'm not good enough to actually cook yet. Just prep."
Kaoru leaned against the counter and tugged his phone out of his jeans. He absently started scrolling through Instagram, anything to pull his mind away from Cassandra. "So, when are you going to let us come eat there?"
"Once I'm finally on the line." Kaoru could tell she was lying through her teeth, thanks to the rapid way she was speaking. "There's no point in you all coming if I'm not the one cooking for you, you know? That'd be really shitty. Besides, I cook for you guys all the time here."
"Right." Kaoru raised an eyebrow.
"I'm gonna shower. Gotta get to work soon." She had caught on to his disbelief. For the briefest moment he could see the storm in her deep blue eyes. It was the same storm he'd witnessed when he'd once found her leaning over their toilet, her eyes bloodshot and swollen from tears and puking. She said she loved him that night, a drunk confession he knew she'd never repeat, if she even remembered it. Cassandra drank more than a person ever should, but she rarely let her mask fall.
Kaoru crossed into the living room once Cassandra had disappeared into the bathroom. WIth a long groan he sat on the floor beside Haruhi's head, leaning against the leather sofa. Her fingers went to his hair, stroking it gently. He didn't mind when Haruhi touched him. She had been with Hikaru for five years now, long enough for Kaoru to accept her as family. She'd been there when Kaoru struggled with his gender identity, and had been the one to teach him how to apply foundation without looking like he'd gotten a bad spray tan.
"Are you going to tell us what's bothering you?" Haruhi asked.
"Nah." Kaoru stretched his arm out and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. "We still need to finish the last season of Gilmore Girls."
/
Cass didn't work in a kitchen. It was only by chance that she knew how to cook well enough to fool Hikaru, Kaoru, and Haruhi. She worked in food service of sorts, sure, but no one there would let her anywhere near a knife, not when they knew why she'd been fired from her last job. She was lucky they would even hire her. She was even luckier that she only carried a few misdemeanor charges to her name.
There was nothing wrong with being a cocktail waitress. Hell, it paid better than any other legal job she'd ever had. So why couldn't she tell her friends where she worked? Simple, they didn't need to know where her extra cash was going.
She arrived at Vette!, an upscale small plates restaurant that was known for their intimate atmosphere and expert food and drink pairings, making it a perfect spot for the city's most wealthy businessmen to entertain clients after business hours. Cassandra entered in through the employee entrance, giving a small nod to the chefs as she passed to the dressing room reserved for the female servers. The room had a few lockers lining one wall, where they were allowed to keep their uniforms and other accessories, while the other held mirrors positioned over crisp white countertops.
"You're early." Andrea, one of Cassandra's coworkers, had already occupied one of the few mirrors that lined the wall. She wore their typical weekday uniform, a short, skin tight black pencil skirt and a tailored button-down. She left several of the top buttons open, as most of them then, exploding the swell of her ample cleavage. Tights were optional, but the patent leather stilettos that donned her feet were a strict requirement. The owner understood his clientele whenever he picked the uniform, knowing that so many businessmen lusted after their young secretaries.
"Had to get out of the house." Cassandra shrugged. She opened her locker and began peeling off her jeans and tank top, revealing the matching red bra and panty set that she reserved for Thursday nights. She didn't have many curves to speak of, but the bra's ample padding gave her the appearance of a full chest. She carefully tucked her gun within her street clothes.
"Your special client coming in tonight?" Andrea eyed her through the mirror. Andrea was one of the few coworkers she respected. It was easy to let their customers' affection and flirtation lead to following them back to their hotels, but Andrea never had never faltered. She was too good to spread her legs for an extra few bucks and everyone knew it.
"He's just another rich bastard, nothing special about him." Cassandra wasted no time in pulling on her uniform, deciding on a whim to forego the usual nude stockings she wore. It was going to be a warm evening, and even with the restaurant's air conditioning the heat would inevitably make its way into the building. The long brunette wig she wore wouldn't make things any better.
Andrea let out a small chuckle as she continued applying her makeup. She took the professional look much more seriously than most, wearing just enough eyeshadow and lipstick to highlight the features of her pleasant face. She wore her natural blonde hair in a tight bun just at the nape of her neck. "Does he know that?"
"Do any of them?" Cassandra brought her makeup bag to the counter. She lined her eyes with a subtle amount of liquid eyeliner, a much smaller amount than what she wore in her daily life. Heavy amounts of mascara and cherry red lipstick would complete her look, giving her the appearance of a professional, if not slightly slutty, personal assistant. It was oddly empowering to her.
"Some of these assholes need to be put in their place." Andrea shrugged. Without hesitating, she started pinning Cassandra's wig to her head, ensuring that it would stay in place through the night. It was a routine of sorts between the two of them, even though Andrea often insisted that Cassandra didn't need to cover her pixie cut for work. It was 'cute and charming', as she put it.
Sophia, another waitress came into the dressing room, barely paying the other two any regard as she started getting ready. Andrea met Cassandra's eyes and mouthed 'bitch' so quickly that Cassandra barely had time to register the action. Andrea wasn't much for trash talk, especially when it came to the other girls, but Sophia could get under her skin.
"Thanks, Drea." Cass gave her friend a small wink. She gave her appearance a final glance. It would work for tonight, she decided. She could see the slightest glimpse of her bra poking out from the white fabric of her shirt, giving away just enough without being too scandalous.
Vette! was on the smaller side, thanks to the owner wanting to keep the place as exclusive as possible. The decor was incredibly clean and modern, with white booths that looked more like expensive sofas and glossy black tables. The walls held expensive abstract artwork, and the entire place was lit by a single chandelier that was positioned over the full bar. There was enough space between the booths to allow for personal conversations and for the staff to move around freely.
Thursdays typically weren't busy as the weekends. Not like Cassandra would know. She hadn't been on long enough for the manager to trust her on their more profitable nights. It would be at least a few more months before that would happen. She didn't exactly mind-Kaoru and Haruhi rarely worked on the weekends, giving her the chance to spend time with them. Hikaru never took days off, even if he only spent a few hours filming or editing.
The first part of her shift was blissfully uneventful. Sure, she dealt with the typical innuendos that came from her male customers, coupled with the occasional hand on her waist or brush over her thigh. Her body was not her own while she worked, she knew that, but she was keenly aware of the bouncer's eyes carefully watching her interactions. He would step in for any of the girls if things got out of hand.
Not like she trusted him. She was always prepared to drive her palm into someone's nose if they got too out of line.
It was a few hours into her shift before he appeared. He sat alone at a booth, as usual, with his navy blue tie slightly loosened and the sleeves of his expensive dress shirt bunched at his elbows. He sat with his legs crossed and a calculating look in his grey eyes.
Cass wondered how Haruhi would react if she knew about her employer's after work activities. She hadn't been lying when she offered to kill him. It'd be easy, given her position. She could slip something in his typical double shot of whiskey that would knock him on his ass. Not that she would without good reason. He was an incredible tipper and half-decent company.
"Mr. Ootori." Cassandra crooned as she approached him, glass in hand. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting."
"Sit." Kyoya's command was short. It wasn't unheard of for patrons to request their waitress to join them, albeit briefly. He had become her regular for the last several months, always coming in on Thursdays late in the evening. She had grown used to his harsh and demanding persona.
She sat down across from him, giving him a good view of her bare legs as she tucked one ankle behind the other. She slid the whiskey over to his waiting hand, letting her fingers linger on his for the briefest of moments before pulling her hand away. They observed each other quietly for a moment. Kyoya was never one for pleasantries, and rarely spoke more than a few words at a time until he had a few drinks in him.
"Are you hungry tonight?" Cassandra asked, already knowing the answer to her question.
"Not for anything you can serve here." He gave her a pointed look as he sipped his drink. He had no reason to be polite to her, although she had seen him be much more respectful to the other waitresses when requesting her. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.
"Someone's in a mood." Cass raised an eyebrow, painfully aware of the way his eyes watched her mouth as she spoke. It was a game between the two of them, one that they had played many times before. She knew his type, always under the impression that everyone was beneath him. Few were actually worth his time. He ran the top law firm in the city, and the power had clearly gone to his head.
Kyoya's lips twitched. He quickly drained his drink, his face showing no signs of discomfort from what Cass knew to be an incredible burn that came with the expensive brand. He held the now empty glass to her. "Another."
"Rough day?" Cass moved from the booth and took the glass, bending just enough at the waist to give him a clear view of her breasts. His hand circled her wrist, threatening to bruise her skin under his tight grip.
"Yes." It was the most honest answer she would ever get from him. His eyes traveled from her face to her neck, then finally resting on her chest. His expression was dark when he released her, allowing her to stand upright once more. "Request your break in thirty minutes from now."
"Yes, Mr. Ootori." Cassandra turned from him, trying to ignore the nerves that rose in her stomach. She was under no obligation to comply with his demands, yet she eagerly sought them out. Some sick part of her enjoyed the thrill of being used by a man like him. He reminded her of her place in this world, far below most people, never amounting much.
Thirty minutes passed quickly. It wasn't difficult for Cassandra to get away on a slower night. The majority of her tables had come and gone, leaving her with enough pocket money to sustain her for a week. She had half a mind to quickly down two shots of clear vodka, much to the bartender's annoyance. Drinking on the job wasn't encouraged, though many of them did it at their customers' requests.
Kyoya met her just outside the employee entrance of the building, his pale skin a contrast to the darkness around him. He wordlessly led her across the empty street, long abandoned by the day's traffic. It was close to midnight, after all. She followed closely behind, her heels clicking on the pavement, until they reached a secluded alleyway. It was almost ironic, seeing someone as refined as Kyoya in such a place.
"Cassandra." Kyoya rarely called her by her name, so rarely that she often wondered if he remembered it. He wasted no time in grabbing her upper arms and jerking her against his chest, his mouth crashing down on hers.
There was no romance, no tender touches or sweet words with their encounters. He had once tried to pay her for her secrecy, being a married man after all, but she quickly declined. This is what she deserved, after all. She wouldn't give his secrets away, nor would he ever mention hers. An agreement between a power hungry man and a woman desperate for any type of attention.
His hands roamed her body freely, squeezing her breasts through her shirt and raking his nails over her thighs. Her hands quickly moved to unfasten his belt, already feeling his dick harden beneath her touch. He grabbed her wrists with little warning and shoved her against the brick wall, pinning her arms to her sides.
"Let me take you." His breath was hot on her neck. She could hear the wanton desire in his voice. "I want to fuck you sensless, girl."
Cassandra's heart lurched. He had never asked for more than her mouth. She had often wondered what it would be like to be pounded mercilessly by him, even though she would never allow herself to go that far. "Here?"
"Would you prefer that I take you somewhere?" Kyoya's response surprised her.
She shook her head violently. "No. Kyoya, that isn't what-"
Her words were cut short by a low growl from Kyoya's throat. He jerked her hands over her head and pressed his knee into her crotch, forcing her legs open. "Tell me you don't want me."
"I do, but-"
"Then why-" his teeth pressed to her neck, just hard enough to sting without leaving any marks, "-why are you denying me?"
"Like I'd fucking tell you." She snapped. She squirmed against his grip, fighting against her body's needs.
"Name a price." Kyoya adjusted his grip so he was holding her wrists with one hand. The other slid under her skirt, finding the waistband of her panties.
"You're fucked if you think you can buy me like that."
Kyoya stopped suddenly. He brought his eyes to meet hers, a confused look on his normally composed face. "So you've been sucking me off on your own accord, not because of the cash I leave you?"
That's why he tipped so well.
"That a problem?" Cassandra boldly met his gaze, daring him to question her further. Her words struck something in him. Seemingly satisfied with her answer, he released his grip on her wrists and ordered her to her knees.
Her throat would pay for her rejection of him. He kept a strong hand on the back of her head, forcing her to hold still as he relentlessly face-fucked her until saliva pooled down her chin. He didn't give her the chance to catch a breath between his thrusts, despite the protesting noises that came from her. His face contorted into a sadistic smirk as he clasped his fingers around her nose, further denying her the precious air she craved.
It took everything she had to not finger herself. Arousal pooled between her legs, despite the discomfort. She felt weak, powerless, a sensation that drove her mad with want. She would never admit that he was the one person she willingly submitted to. The lack of emotional connection made it easy.
He eventually released his grip on her nose, relieving her a bit as his pace quickened. She could feel him twitch inside her mouth as a low groan tore from his mouth, a tell-tale sign that he was coming undone.
"Swallow it." His command was breathy, lacking the strength his voice typically carried. He came in hot spurts inside her mouth. She drank him in greedily, not wanting to risk letting a single drop fall from her lips.
He left her in the alley shortly after, commenting that she should clean herself up before going back to the floor.