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Eren watched as the numbers on the elevator flicked by. A sarcastic, amused side of him thought of elevators as his second home. In his profession, his clients preferred hotel rooms to their own homes. Which made sense since Eren was a prostitute. But this was completely different than most nights. Instead of tight leather clothing to show off his lean fit body he had on a pair of ripped skinny jeans, and over-sized t-shirt, and his feathery black hair tucked under a beanie. He still had eyeliner sketched around his eyes but that was because he preferred the look.
He stopped by the door with the number 201 printed on its surface. Eren wrapped his knuckles twice and stuffed his hands in his pockets. A moment later the door opened to reveal Mikasa. She had on a simple over-sized black collared shirt that hung half way down her legs, accentuating her already slim figure. He smiled, “Hey.”
“Hey,” she turned around, leaving the door open. Eren followed her and allowed the door to close behind him. He could smell freshly made ramen and that awesome fried vegetable dish that was made up of literally everything ranging from broccoli and carrots, to corn and peas, some spinach, and other stuff that Eren didn’t really want to know. Somehow Mikasa could make nasty stuff like vegetable taste like heaven.
He followed her into the kitchen and grabbed a pot, setting it down on the floor in the living room that she had cleared and put a blanket and a small table. Eren went back to the kitchen to grab the wine and silverware. He folded his legs under him and sat down on the opposite side of the table. Mikasa was his closest friend. Two years ago, when Eren had first been starting out, he had met her. She was a timid virgin who wanted to learn how to have sex so that it could be more special and wouldn’t hurt when she went to prom with her boyfriend.
They didn’t have sex. They kissed, but that was as far as it went. Instead they talked, throughout the night. And it became a routine. Them talking. It was extra cash and the all-nighter looked good on Eren’s record, along with the fact that she would purchase a night every two weeks. The boss had warned Eren that Mikasa might be in love with him, but Eren said that it was a simple arrangement. He simply provided her pleasure during her college studies, since she didn’t have time to date. It wasn’t true, but it was a good lie that Mikasa had come up with. Of course she had, because she was incredibly smart. Smarter than Eren.
“How are you?” she asked him halfway through their meal, when they actually were able to slow down and have a conversation.
“Fine, me and Jean broke up though,” Eren sighed.
Mikasa shot him a look, “Why?”
“He found out about what I do,” Eren hung his head.
“And he couldn’t get over himself despite the fact that you fuck women and not men,” Mikasa shook her head.
“Yep,” Eren groaned. “He used it as an excuse that I’m not one hundred percent gay.”
“Who the fuck cares if you’re one hundred percent gay? At least you’re fucking women for money and not men,” Mikasa ran a hand through her hair, “That’s got to mean something.”
“Apparently not,” Eren understood her anger, and was grateful for it. Because his heart was still too heavy to muscle up any sort of anger. Right now he just wanted to wallow. Which Mikasa seemed to understand.
She shifted over next to him and wrapped her arm around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You’ll find someone who will understand.”
“Maybe,” Eren said, not believing it.
“Preferably a sugar daddy,” Mikasa piped up.
Eren shoved her away, laughing, “No. Fuck no!”
“Yes!” Mikasa giggled and pushed him, “That way I can stop spending a shit ton of my dad’s money just to see you.”
“I’ve given you my address, you can swing by anytime,” Eren pointed out.
“But then I wouldn’t be spending my dad’s money,” Mikasa pouted.
Eren shook his head, “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me for it,” Mikasa smiled.
“I do,” and truth was, he did love her. He wasn’t in love. But part of him really believed that if he allowed himself, he could. She was his soul mate, and they could cross that line easily. But neither of them would.
Tonight apparently, Eren had a client that was more than rich. She had dropped a ridiculous amount of money to have Eren for the full night. She had requested the best (which was Eren) and anonymity. More than likely she was married to an entrepreneur or CEO, or she was married to one and was one herself, and needed to let loose some steam. Or – and this was unlikely but not completely unbelievable – it was a powerful, rich woman, who needed someone to take control of her. He had come across that once, but she had put in a request for a Dom. This one hadn’t. Whatever was going to happen, Eren was ready for it. He always was.
He had taken special care in straightening his hair, putting on eyeliner, mascara, and some eye shadow. He had on a tight fitting, see-through tank top, with a leather jacket thrown over it. He had on tight, black pants. So tight that he couldn’t wear any sort of underwear underneath. He had on black leather boots that had a bit of a glittering shine to them. He was decked out and ready for action.
What he wasn’t ready for was the door opening to reveal a man. A man who was a good foot shorter than him with intense dark eyes, features so sharp that it could cut you if you got too close, and positively radiating power and money. And sex appeal. Pure sex appeal. Eren stepped back, “I think I came to the wrong room.”
“I don’t think you did,” the man didn’t smile, but he did smirk.
“Is this room 324?” Eren asked.
“Yes,” the man leaned against the doorframe.
“I think there’s been a mistake,” Eren said, “I don’t – I don’t do men.”
“I asked for the best, and they gave me you,” the man straightened, “Whether or not you fuck men doesn’t matter. I paid a handsome sum for you. I don’t think you’ve got a choice.”
Eren’s jaw locked. No, no he didn’t have a choice. For the amount of money this man dumped in his boss’s lap, walking away was not an option. His heart throbbed. It was different having sex with a woman because it was purely business, it didn’t mean anything. But sex with a man meant something. It was personal. And after the heartbreak of Jean, he didn’t know if he was ready.
But he didn’t have a choice.
He sighed and loosened his tense body, flashing a smile, “Alright.”
As soon as the door closed behind him, Eren was shoved up against the door and lips were pressed against his. Hands found their way under his shirt and ripped it up and over his head. Before he could catch his breath, lips smashed against his. Eren’s thoughts melted. His heart raced. He shouldn’t be reacting this way, but this man. This beautiful, seductive man was stealing his breath. Stealing his thoughts. Stealing his sanity. What the fuck was wrong with him? This was a job, nothing more.
But as he ripped off the other man’s shirt and ran his hands over him, he wondered. He wondered if it was just a job as he sucked him into his mouth. He wondered if it was just a job when they were completely naked, their skin slick with sweat, unable to stop kissing. Despite the fact that they were so hot, so consumed with lust that the kissing was sloppy and ungraceful. They moved together awkwardly at first, but quickly found a rhythm. And despite the fact that Eren was good at his job, it no longer was important that this was his most expensive client ever. Was important was how the man felt inside of him, how his body felt against his, how hot and amazing his mouth felt.
Eren climaxed so hard that tears burned the corners of his eyes, his back arching. He clenched hard around the other man, forcing him to his own climax. They lay there, not really registering the mess that they were covered in. They were simply trying to recover their breath, slow down their hearts. It wasn’t until Eren’s brain came back on that he realized that they were staring at each other. His heart skipped it a beat. It felt too intimate, too much like they were a real couple.
The other man leaned forward and slanted his lips against Eren’s. And Eren let him; let the kiss lack the lust that it had had earlier. It still had passion, but now there was something sweet about it. Something that curled in Eren’s belly. The man pulled away to brush his lips against the shell of his ear, “My name is Levi.”
Mikasa’s phone beeped, startling her from her sleep. She swore softly and rolled over to see who it was. The first thing she saw was the it was one fucking a.m. The next thing she saw was that it was a text from Eren. She read the words, and smiled.
I think I may have found my sugar daddy. Though he’s slightly younger than sugar.