honest work
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Summary
If he were smart — if he had even half a brain cell in his fucking head — Schlatt would sit here in silence and enjoy a free show. Even just this — just sitting here watching Quackity as he skims his hands along his thighs, his nails dragging up the fishnets, his soft cock obvious through black lace — god this feels so fucking dangerous, this is ringing every alarm bell in Schlatt’s head, and those are instincts he takes seriously.
Thing is, as intelligent as Schlatt may be, he’s also fucking stupid.
(or)
Schlatt’s a bartender with an addictive personality. Quackity’s his barback, and impossible to resist.
Series
- Part 1 of honest work
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“I don’t know what you’re so pissed about,” Schlatt says, smug. “Most guys who got a reach-around like that would have the courtesy to thank me.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Quackity says. He checks his reflection, then glances down at his watch and winces. “Techno’s gonna fucking kill me.”
“You seen that guy’s knife collection?” Schlatt muses, cheerful. “If he wanted to kill you, sweetheart, you’d be dead already.”
“You’re not funny,” Quackity snaps. He washes his hands quickly, then runs his wet fingers through his hair, coaxing it back into place. Then he meets Schlatt’s eyes in the mirror. “Wait a minute before you follow me out.”
“Sure sure,” Schlatt says. “Any other requests, princess?”
“Yeah,” Quackity mutters. “Grow the fuck up.”
(or)
Schlatt and Quackity both work at a bar, and now they’re also fucking each other. It both is and is not going well.
Series
- Part 2 of honest work