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tiramisusbakery · 8 days

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The Auction pt. 2

Summary: Can be found in The Auction pt. 1, here

#BLACKOC #jjk #Gojosatoru #Gojo #GetoSuguru #Geto #NSFW #MHAOC

Warnings: NSFW, Teens in adult situations (what else is new in jjk tbh), violence, cursing, underage alcohol consumption

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit. Shit. Shit”

Geto fumbled with the lighter in his cupped palm, trying and failing to light the cigarette that stuck out of his mouth. The breeze kept putting out his flame before it could catch.

"Need some help?"

The back door of the building swung shut as Gojo stepped into the alley, his back hunched against the cold.

"Fuck. Ah, yeah, if you could."

Geto sparked the weak lighter, and Gojo held up two fingers, a small red bulb of light appearing as if from nothing and hovering at the tips. The sparks of the lighter caught the dollop of cursed energy, and the fire jumped to his technique, turning the pulse into a tiny ball of fire.

Geto propped the end of his cigarette up against the little blazing orb and dragged a few times, puffing until a plume of smoke finally wafted from the other end. He exhaled in relief.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah. You know, I thought you kicked that habit.”

Geto shrugged, clenching the stick between his teeth as he dutifully rolled up his sleeves.

“I didn’t.”

“Do you have any idea what those do to your body?” Gojo grimaced. “I’m watching it give you cancer right now, Suguru.”

“Can’t be any worse than those fuckin’ curses I have to eat,” He toked, threw his head back, and exhaled the murky smoke, watching it curl into the sky.

He cut his eyes at Gojo.

“Or did you forget?”

Gojo took pause. Geto was getting kind of cagey. He decided to switch the subject, although the next one he had in mind wasn’t exactly soothing.

“So…what did Raven say to you in there?”

“That you two fucked.” Geto’s dark eyes landed on Gojo’s wide, blue ones.

“I- w-well-, um, we-”

“How does this keep happening, Gojo? Why do you always end up exactly where you're not supposed to be?"

"...'Scuse me?"

"The only reason I know where you go in the middle of the night is because I followed you. The only reason you haven’t gotten caught is because I've been the one stuffing your bed. You don't tell me anything anymore. Are we friends or not?"

"Well you sure as hell aren't acting like a friend right now," Gojo pushed away from the wall and stalked closer, his own eyes burning holes into Geto's black ones. "How was I supposed to know you'd end up falling in love with the girl I paid for some pussy? And did I tell you to come looking for me?"

"You don't tell someone that, Satoru, you just do. You know what? Every time I turn around, you’re trying to justify being a fucking asshole, and I’m trying to stop you from being one. I work and WORK to keep you out of trouble, and you laze around being the ‘strongest’ until it's time to blast someone with a gravity orb or some shit, and then the day is saved. I am so fucking tired of trying to reign you in that it hurts.”

"Then don’t. I'm not your little brother, or your kid. If I want to go somewhere, I do, and if I want to fuck someone, I will."

Geto raised a brow, pursing his lips around the cigarette with a ferocity that made his jaw pop beneath his skin. He blew the smoke harshly from between his teeth, and it made him look like he was channeling the dragon he was known to summon during fights.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dickhead?”

“That means I didn’t do shit TO YOU!” Gojo spat, finally coming face to face with Geto, “But i’ll tell you what I did do- to Raven.”

Geto rocked forward, bringing himself up off of the wall, and closed the narrow distance between himself and his white haired assailant. His cigarette fogged Gojo’s glasses, but he kept his hands balled up in his pockets to stop himself from knocking his best friend out.

“Go ahead,” he challenged, “What did you do?”

“I fucked the shit out of her.” Gojo removed his glasses, folded them neatly, and tucked them into his blazer pocket. “For hours. Angie didn’t want me to stop.”

“Angie?” Geto gaped. His cigarette dropped from his mouth and fell to the pavement in an arch of ash.

“Oh-ho, don’t tell me she didn’t tell you her name?” Satoru’s blue eyes flashed like ice, his smile growing like that of a Cheshire cat.

“Well, she didn’t tell me, so don’t worry. Her sensei did, when I fucked them both. Same time. Poor girl asked me to be gentle, but before long I was fucking her into the mattress. So, I guess it's safe to say…” He ran his tongue along his teeth, shaking his head slowly from side to side. He watched Geto’s face darken dangerously.

“I wasn’t.”

Crack!

The impact of Geto’s knuckles against Gojo’s jaw caught him by surprise, and he realized that somewhere along the line he’d accidentally dropped his infinity.

Damn booze!

Geto grabbed the sleeve of his counterpart’s jacket and slammed him into the brick wall, his teeth bared like a rabid animal.

“Gah!” Gojo’s head reverberated like a bell.

Gojo came to his senses as the dark haired boy went in for a second jab to his face. Ducking away from the swing and countering with his own, his fist connected with Geto’s abdomen in a streak of blue. He sent a shock of cursed energy to his knuckles, repelling Geto’s torso and doubling the impact of the punch. Geto yelled in surprise, and staggered backward into a figure that had stood watching them at the door.

Takete caught the boy easily, and held him back from lunging himself again at Gojo.

“Boys, something wrong? We can hear you inside-” Takete made eye contact with Gojo.

“It’s you?” He smirked, “How do we keep finding each other like this, kid?”

Gojo blinked, shook his head, and blinked again, trying to clear his vision.

“Uh, yeah. Hey Mr. shark man”

“Good guess. Takete. You need some help out here?”

Geto wrenched himself away from the man.

“Who the hell are you? More buddies you didn’t tell me about, Gojo?” He spat at the street. “You’re so fucking useless.”

“Well, in the spirit of me being useful,” Gojo wiped his mouth with one hand, the other in his breast pocket. “Let me tell you what I was gonna say all along, you fucking psycho.”

He withdrew his hand from his pocket, and held up the coin he’d found at his chair.

“I wasn’t gonna play, but since you’re so hell bent on calling me a selfish idiot, maybe I will. And I’m gonna show you what it means to get whatever the fuck I want, whether youre here to see it or not.” His eyes twinkled as his smile took on a mischievous curl.

Geto’s face was lined with fury, but Gojo didn’t care about Geto’s feelings anymore. He was having far too much fun.

“So,” He continued, his voice echoing off of the walls of the alley, “you better hope to God that this one’s a dud, but I have to say, I’m feeling lucky."

He kissed the coin and replaced it, his white hair catching the wind and making him look wild.

Geto loosened his tie, and slid off his volcanic beads with a calmness that would have chilled winter itself. "Gojo, you don't want to make me into your enemy. If you apologize, we can talk about this."

Gojo threw his head back and howled in laughter.

"There's nothing to talk about." He beamed.

"You know what the best part about being 'fuck you' rich is, boy scout? Its being able to say FUCK YOU!”

Geto nearly tore his jacket trying to remove it as he geared up for round two, but Takete laid an enormous hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not worth it, champ, he’s drunk.”

Geto stared incredulously into the man’s face before shrugging him off to adjust his jacket and collar.

“Move.”

He shoved the man aside with his shoulder as he ducked back into the venue. Takete chuckled, almost reminiscent at the scene.

“You pair are feisty. I see that as an asset. There’s a lot going on tonight, but if you want to talk initiation, let me know.” He winked at the oversized teen before letting the door swing shut.

~~~~~

Geto sank into his velvet chair gracelessly, his face stormy with disgust. With himself? with Gojo? He had no idea.

The mingling of the crowd below his box had begun to slow; the lights darkened and the chatter died. He knew the show would be starting soon.

Movement and white hair across the darkening theater caught his attention, and he watched as Gojo slid into a box of his own, his posture hunched and his shoulders square. When he sat, their eyes caught across the room. Gojo’s blue gaze was blank and cool- and most of all, unreadable. Geto knew his own looked the same; the daggers in his eyes likely would have been deadly had they been real.

You better hope this one��s a dud, but I’m feeling lucky.

Gojo averted his gaze, and Geto watched him close his palm around the coin and shove it in his pocket.

He’s so damn sure he’s gonna win. God, fuck him.

Checking over his shoulder, Geto withdrew an enormous wallet from his pocket, the bills inside spreading the patent leather so far that it could hardly fold. The colorful bills inside, stacked with the money he’d been saving on his own, would have to be enough. He exhaled, pinching his nose to ward off the headache that had begun to take hold.

“Hate to say this, but thank you Shark Man,” he muttered under his breath as he pocketed the wallet once more.

“You did end up helping. More than you know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geto struggled the whole night to think of anything but Raven, or rather…Angie. He felt defeat in every cell of his body as he watched the performances come and go in an endless daze.

He only snapped in and out of focus long enough to bring his hands together at the end of every set, and join in on the enthusiastic applause that would intermittently wash over the room at the truly great displays. Here and there, he’d cut his eyes across the room to the balcony at which a shock of white hair reminded him of the events that transpired just a few hours before.

And every time, he swore that the boy had been looking his way too.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gojo clutched the coin in a white knuckled grip, his jovial spirit from the alleyway since replaced with a broiling rage.

He peered across the theater as the dark haired boy postured in his chair, nodding thoughtfully, waving away champagne, and surveilling the stage intently as if forming a philosophy about the way the floorboards looked in the spotlight.

Gojo had sobered- especially after the first few courses of lobster and Wagyu steak had hit his stomach, spaced out by the delicious Yubari King melon palette cleansers- and he’d finally come to his senses about what’d transpired just hours earlier.

Tipping his lenses, he opened his hand, palm up, to check the coin.

Melting, but not yet ready to view.

Damn, how long was this going to take?

~~~~~~~~~

Geto checked his coin. The grooves around the edge had turned transparent, the inky center slowly following suit. Somewhere inside him, something whispered to him that he’d been tricked- that this was no Bidder’s Coin, in fact, it was a loser’s coin, just for him. He stuffed that part of him deep, suffocated it with all of the faith he could muster for Angie. She hadn’t brought him all this way just to lead him on. Right?

Right.

He placed the coin back into the palm of his hand and squeezed, hoping that if the coin were anything like him, the pressure would make it break down faster. As he did so, his eyes dipped into the crowd pooled beneath his box as they watched the next display.

Somewhere in the crowd were two more coins. He thought, bitterly. And whoever they are, I will beat them, like nothing more than a curse beneath my feet.

Finally, Geto watched as a man with a slicked ponytail, accented with shaved sides, came onto the stage. His tuxedo was sharp, although it looked as if he'd bought it at the beginning of the Shōwa era.

The man waited for the crowd to notice his presence, standing silently with his hands behind his back until they naturally lowered their voices and gave him center stage.

"Now, I know that this has been an exciting night for people in our industry." His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "I truly hope that these amazing performances have enriched you all."

He cast his eyes down into the darkened theater, as if searching for the no doubt anticipatory faces of his companions.

"I would like to take this time to thank our donors by name…"

Come on, get on with it.

Gojo removed his glasses and massaged his eyes, trying to dislodge the frustration that had begun to take hold. The coin was in his hand, finally melted by his body heat, but the host had purposely lowered the lights to near blackness so that no one could see what their results were.

A hand slid across his back, over his shoulder, and down to the left breast of his blazer; he felt lips on his right ear.

"Tira…" he murmured, his eyes popping open, but not daring to look.

The lips pressed to the shell of his ear.

"It's me." He could hear the smile in her voice. The air off of her lips made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"The moment has come, little prince. Have you chosen destiny or will you follow fate?"

"I don't know what that means."

"You will," her stiletto nails slowly, deliberately, raked his hair from the nape of his neck to the crown of his head before tangling and guiding him into a kiss.

He fell into her, wondering somewhere far away in his mind if anyone could see them in the dark. Yet, with her this close to him in public, the taboo escaped him; it barely registered to him that anything existed outside of her scent, and her lips.

It was sloppy and quick, but it was all he needed. He sighed into her mouth, eyes fluttering closed.

"I'm spending all my money on Angie tonight, aren't I?"

She giggled, and he felt a tent begin to grow in his tailored pants.

"She worked hard on this, so please try to enjoy the show while you do. I'm retiring for the night. Sayōnara."

And as if she'd been a dream, she withdrew from his senses before her departure could even register on his dulled brain.

“At last, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.” The announcer threw up his hands as if conducting a vast orchestra, “We see who will be bidding to take home tonight’s gorgeous Black Swan. Lift the lights, and let us see the results of the Black Coin Ball!!!”

The lights lifted in the opera house and everyone’s arms shot into the air as they held their coin to the light.

Gojo paled. He’d already known, but somehow seeing the clover made it more real. He snapped his head to the open crowd, immediately searching for his friend’s expression across the room as his heart hammered against his ribcage.

No, no, no.

He waited for his friend to address him, his mind racing to navigate the catastrophe that was surely about to take place.

Gojo watched as Geto opened his hand, extended his arm, and looked into his coin. After a beat the boy’s narrow, onyx eyes slid to his own, and he knew.

The Bidder’s coins had found them.

~~~~~~~

Above the boys, in the grandest box seats the theatre had to offer, a large, leathery fist clutched the third bidder’s coin; it was so small in the man’s calloused hand that it resembled a lima bean in the fist of a giant.

Takete, revered kingpin of Japan's most formidable mob to date, the Dragons, smiled down into the small, plump face of his wife Michi as she gazed out into the audience. The room fell into pandemonium as everyone checked their neighbor for the coveted coins.

“Have we won, my dear?” She purred, her shiny red lips parting on the smoke of her tapered cigarette stick.

“We have. It’s a shame I can’t seem to find my wallet.”

“It’ll turn up.” She replied, placing a red taloned hand on his broad lap. “The boys are using their quirks to find it now. Here’s hoping that whoever took it had a damn good reason.”

Below them, the long-lapelled man addressed the crowd once more.

“Excellent. And now, may our bidders ring their bells!” The announcer eyed the room expectantly.

Ding.

Takete’s gaze found the white haired boy. Gojo, was it?

Ding.

He slid his attention to the dark haired boy that he’d found fighting Gojo in the alley. His surprise was so palpable that his wife felt it through touch. She faced him head on, her face a question.

“Do you know them?”

He tossed her a mischievous smile as he raised his own hand and rang the third bell.

Ding!

The boys’ head’s shot up in unison to see him grin, his sharp teeth even visible from that far below. He addressed them in turn, realizing that he’d been roped into a much bigger scheme than he’d first expected when he’d waltzed into the theater.

“What have you got planned, Tira?” Takete had asked of his favorite concubine only weeks prior.

“Nothing much, just love and war.”

She’d smirked at him from across the table, the party of Dragons that accompanied him paying them little attention as they were entertained by the other attractions of the club.

“All I need you to do is hold a coin and keep a promise.”

“What promise?”

“The one you made to Raven- that you would let her take her trips around the sun undeterred.”

It became immediately clear where his wallet had gone; if he’d learned anything about Gojo, it was that he could back himself up. But what about his friend?

He winked at the dark haired boy, and the kid balked, averting his gaze.

“May you win the night, young man” he toasted the boy.

Because you’ll soon learn that my loans are repaid in blood.

“Please remember, fellow patrons, that even if you have not won the chance to bid for the girl, that any number of women that you’ve seen tonight are up for the taking. We also encourage gambling, as we watch our bidders take on the challenge of securing our most exquisite prize.”

~~~~

So they get to bet on us? Gojo wondered. Interesting. I'll have to get in on that….if anyone will take my bet, that is.

His eyes flickered to Geto's slumped figure, eyeing Takate in his box. Gojo looked up into the box himself, the man toasting his friend.

Ugh. Not while he's in the ring.

Unless…

"Fate finds those who choose no destiny. Fine, Tira. I'll bite."

~~~~

A gleam came to the announcer's eye for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued.

“However, there will be no cheering, sneering, choking, fighting, or killing, as the performance is taking place, please.”

Chatter enveloped the room, and white betting cards began to fly to and fro, waiters rushing to collect them from the rabid crowd. Every now and then, to the boys’ distress, the sea of onlookers glanced up at the balconies where the bidders sat, the undecided checking them out to see who looked like a winner.

“And now,”

The spotlight snapped into place at center stage.

“Let the games begin!”

The theater dropped to black, and bright white letters were projected onto the closed

curtain:

INTERMISSION

[TO BE CONTINUED]

#gojo satoru #geto suguru #black oc #mha oc #jjk

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tiramisusbakery · 14 days

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The Auction pt. 1

Summary: Hidden Inventory Gojo and Geto play sorcerer save-a-ho {lol} a little too close to the sun and end up as love rivals to a girl from the Red Light. Leaving their little world of sorcery in the mountains, they sneak out to Tokyo, a city budding with a new thing called...quirks?

(no MHA characters btw just a slight universe clash)

So...the quirk thing is weird, but they're not asking questions, as long as they get in the club. Taking a dip into underworld affairs to test their luck, they are forced into a world of glitz, glam, and organized crime, sacrificing much more than money (but still a lot of fuckin money) to save the object of their affection from dire circumstances and win her love. MINORS DNI

#BLACKOC #jjk #Gojosatoru #Gojo #GetoSuguru #Geto #NSFW #MHAOC

Warnings: NSFW, Teens in adult situations (what else is new in jjk tbh), violence, cursing, underage alcohol consumption

OPTIONAL READ: Lore Recap for the world surrounding this fic; What started as a fun rebellious game of sneaking out from Jujutsu High to party (Gojo) and trying to do damage control as a result, only to get mixed up in the same world himself (Geto) turns into a sex addiction, a secret love affair, and a complicated set of Red Light District politics for our boys. On a night out meeting his favorite call girl, Tira, Gojo finds himself intrigued instead by her mentee, Angie, a mysterious escort with enormous wings (and something called a quirk?) Geto, looking for Gojo, found Angie first and shared a short...yet intimate...exchange with her before she sends him on his way back to JJH. Afterward, she shares a passionate night with her sensei and Geto's best friend, Gojo. Her first night as a fully fledged escort is a success! Yet, little does she know, she has become the object of the affection of the two strongest sorcerers alive.

Enjoy~

"I think i'm in love" Angie whispered aloud, more to herself than Tira, her sensei, who sat across from her at the bright makeup table.

Tira flinched, missing her nail, and sticky bright- red polish from the set she'd been working on dribbled down her index finger, dolloping onto the glossy vanity instead.

"Oh, hun."

"Why do you sound like I just told you my nana died?" Angie blinked at her from the chaise sofa that she had strewn herself across since returning from the meet and greet.

Tira heaved a sigh, throwing her head back and letting her hair tumble down her shoulders to dust the floorboards. She met the girl's wide-eyed stare through heavy lids.

"She might as well have, babes. Please don't take this the wrong way, but you need to prioritize."

Angie avoided her gaze, and Tira felt an uncomfortable twinge in her chest for all of a second. She had a feeling she knew who it was, but what if…?

"Okay, i'll bite. Who are you in love with?"

The younger woman puffed her cheeks, prodding her pointer fingers together in quiet apprehension. "Suguru"

Tira straightened, attending to her drying manicure as if the twinge had never occured. She tried to remain neutral as she thanked her lucky stars.

"Mhmmm, Suguru." She hummed. "You mean the hot best friend of heartthrob Gojo Satoru, whom you fucked last week?"

Angie waited a beat before nodding. Tira didn't even wait to meet her eyes in the mirror before continuing.

"Suguru, whom you've fucked a total of one and a half times, only seen at night under neon lamps, and don't even know what he does for a living?"

"What was that slime monster?"

"Exactly."

"But they're just heroes! Really…weird heroes."

Tira tsked, and it was the first time Angie felt her age with the woman since they'd met. "What did I say about letting men play hero with you?"

"But he's not playing-"

"He's as serious as a 16 year old boy can be. Which, believe you me, is playing. Playing hero, noirette."

Tira felt as though she could hear Angie's heart break, and decided to change her approach.

"Little bird, when is he coming back?"

"Dunno." She muttered. Tira turned to find the girl's face in her hands, her newly defined curls curtaining her no doubt reddened complexion.

"Wanna see?"

Angie didn't react.

Whipping out her phone, Tira tapped a few keys. In just one ring came the bedroom voice of her favorite romp.

"Ye-llow~"

"Blue" she purred.

The phone went silent. Then a word, on a voice that wavered ever so slightly with boyish glee.

"Tira?" Satoru asked in disbelief.

"Its me. I need a favor."

"A-anything! Uh, well almost anything. Yes?"

"I need to know the next time you and your friend plan to come to the district together, a few days in advance. Is that alright?"

"Uh, sure. Why?"

"No questions. Just be sure to have some serious bread next time I see you. Tell your pal to empty his sock drawer. We're gonna play a little game."

Tira clapped the phone shut, and tossed it onto the counter.

Angie watched the device skitter until it stopped.

"Good. Now all we need is to choreograph"

"Choreograph? Wha-"

"Your mimic dance, of course. The one you'll do on Geto and Gojo when they bid on you."

"When they do WHAT?"

Tira was up from her chair in a moment, bouncing toward her charge with the glee of a girl half her age.

"When they bid, my love! They're going to bid to claim you. Only one of them can, now, since they're best friends. The other will be forbidden from booking with you forever!”

She paused.

“Or at least until you’re fully on the market and can choose your own clients, which won’t be for years. We'll see who is in love with who then~"

Angie's jaw dropped, her heart kicking in her chest at the sudden adrenaline that Tira had injected into her bloodstream.

"No. No! What if Geto can't out-bid Gojo?"

"He can and will."

"But Gojo has money. Like, old money. What if he screws him over?"

"He wouldn't do that if his friend was really in love with you"

"But what if he's not?"

"Aha! There it is."

Angie closed her wings around herself and hid in the bundle of feathers as if huddling against a strong wind. Her breathing softened to a light coo as she attempted to steady her anxious pulse.

Tira's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the scared girl. Hesitating, the woman dropped to her knees before her, and took her hands from beneath the plumage of her wings, massaging them in her own.

"Angie, baby?" She cocked her head to the side, her grin softening to one of sympathy. "You're scared, huh?"

"Yes." Her voice was muffled and small.

"Baby, this is an exercise in maturity. See this as a win win win. You get to find out if he shares your feelings without ever revealing your own, you get showered in cash, and you don't even have to show skin. Plus, nothing clears my head like a good auction."

Wait a minute, auction? Wasn't there a big one coming up? Screw the mimic dance, she might be able to make Angie a star.

But was she ready?

"But if he loses he can't ever book with me again" the girl sniffled.

"If he loses, he'll just have to find a way to love you for free, Raven."

The girl parted her wings and a sliver of light danced in her wet, owlette-like eyes.

"You're so smart"

Tira rested her head in the girl's lap.

"I know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next three weeks, Tira strictly forbade Angie from contacting her boo-thang, and put her under rigorous training for her one shining moment as a prize between the two boys.

According to Tira, this was her first test in distinguishing work from play, where she would need to be okay being an ultimatum, a genuine variable to someone's life and limb. It was the pride and joy of geishas to move their audience beyond recognition with their art, and she needed to be worthy of that.

And beyond anything else, it was her duty to make him suffer, Tira had said- especially since he'd had the audacity to make her fall in love with him.

"These boys are brothers in arms. Why should you be what comes between them?" Tira snapped, tapping a closed fan sharply to her student's protruding hip.

This time, Angie was balancing a short stack of books on her head, atop them a teacup filled with hot tea. The steam wafted from the cup as she watched it in the full length mirror before her, reminding her of the imminent danger of dropping it.

"W-well"

"Don't hesitate. Why would one of them choose you over the other?"

"Because I am not a want."

"What are you?"

"A need"

"Yes." Tira clapped her fan and Angela posed in the second formation that had been taught to her, where she popped her chest and tucked her stomach, her fingers pinched delicately above her head and the heels of her feet raised up from the ground. She met her own eyes in the mirror, not spilling a drop of tea.

"Why should they spend their life savings, their allowance, the very last penny of their piggy bank on you?"

"Because it was never theirs, it was mine from the day they met me."

"Good!" She clapped her fan once more, and Angie adjusted in time with her command.

Tira clapped her fan, posing, adjusting, and instructing Angie until she was exhausted, and even beyond. She made the girl go days in heels until the blisters became part of her feet, and spoke to her with the kind of instruction an old madame might have given a disobedient upstart.

And then came the choreography. Angie had been bent, bounced, and broken until she could execute every move to perfection. She was up practicing at dawn, and didn't stop until her shift every night.

Angie didn't know if she regretted telling the girl about her feelings, but if this didn't end soon, she thought she would take them back.

Angela laid flat on her back on her Sensei's plush mattress, much softer than her own last-minute sleeping arrangements, and absentmindedly addressed the burn marks in the ceiling above her as they wound the periphery of the room, looking desperately for a distraction from the stinging in her feet. She wasn't sure if Tira would be back from her last call of the night soon, and was worried to be found slacking, but the worry didn't overpower the exhaustion.

"Ooooh what am I gonna do~" she moaned.

Her breasts were swollen in her loose grasp, having been heavy and burdened ever since she'd begun to tighten up about weaning Miku. She didn't know why she couldn't just keep letting her baby nurse- it felt better for both of them, anyway.

Well, that was a lie. She knew why, it was so she could finally move up the ranks from a rookie geisha to a full performer by her next birthday. It would make her and Miku more money, and she'd finally be able to rent her own place in the Playground. Her baby couldn't be attached to her the way she was now, or she'd be stuck until her daughter could talk.

Prodding delicately at her puffy nipples, she closed her eyes and pictured first holding Miku to them to relieve the pain, and then Geto.

Geto could…help instead…she thought blearily, her eyes fluttering a few times before she finally drifted.

She didn't know that she'd fallen asleep until a light tap on her nose pulled her out of her stupor. Peering up into the lamp-lit halo above her, she saw her instructor's pursed, plum colored lips and arresting brown eyes, appraising her as if she were a curator and her charge a work of art.

"You're ready."

Angie's mouth snapped open and she sat up in the lush bed, holding the sheets to her chin. "How can you tell?"

Tira shrugged. It was the most juvenile movement Angie had seen her make in weeks. "I just can. Look at how you sat up, no haste. How you woke from your sleep, so graceful. Stand for me."

Angie did as she was told without a second thought, as if her body moved on its own. She swept up from the bed lightly, her posture tall, and floated to the space before Tira as if she materialized there.

Her feet hurt but her discipline had taught her to stand tall anyway. Tira circled her once, stood back, and hummed in approval.

"Yeah" Tira smiled, her eyes crinkling in the corners with a surprising melancholy. Angie wondered how much sleep she'd gotten herself over the span of her student's training. If she'd been suffering too, she hadn't let on even once. "You can feel it, too, right?" She murmured, "You're more womanly."

"I don't believe that I have changed that quickly-"

"Listen to you! I don't believe~" she held a petite hand to her lips and laughed breathily. "You sound like you have tea with the Emperor at 2pm. What do you say, shall we check in on the boys?"

"No. We shouldn't."

Tira nodded. She'd passed the test.

"Mmm there's a hot spring nearby. Let's celebrate with a late night dip, hm?"

Angie felt a twinge in her stomach, then again, lower. Tira's eyes sparkled like pools of honey in the golden light of her candelabra as she waited for her response.

Angie let her eyes search her instructor's, tapping her cheek to draw out the moment before finally agreeing.

"Yes, let's."

[NSFW YURI INCOMING]

The hot water felt like heaven on her weary limbs as she stretched her wings in the deep pool. She sank up to her shoulders in the delicious water, which had been mixed with a fragrant lavender oil at Tira's request. Her hair was free of her usual puffs, the coils tickling her shoulder blades as they soaked up the water.

She felt the urge to swim, but was scared to do anything that might make her seem juvenile enough to be put back in training. Instead, she dunked a cupped hand into the pool and ran it on her face and neck.

"Ahhhh~" she sighed, the last cool air of her lungs escaping into the humid room.

She was alone though, waiting anxiously for Tira to tie up her boundless hair in the changing room so that it wouldn't gain ten pounds in water weight the second she stepped into the pool. It made sense, but Angie watched the door for her anyway, trying her best to suppress the hammer in her chest when the woman finally revealed her naked form.

Her complexion like honey butter all the way down, with not a blemish to be seen, Angie watched Tira slink opposite her into the hottub, her supple curves slicing the water in two. Her large breasts buoyed themselves on the surface, and she stretched her arms above her head in languid yawn that was somehow both sensual and completely self indulgent.

Angie averted her gaze, realizing she'd been staring.

"So you do like women," Tira hummed.

Angie started.

"Yes."

"I love that you give me straight answers now," she smiled, and dimples pricked her cheeks. Did she always have dimples?

"Thank you, sensei"

"You're welcome, darling." The older woman leaned across the water, and her wet cleavage tilted toward her charge. "But I'm still just Tira. We're past all that, remember?"

Angie nodded and Tira slunk to her side, slinging an arm over her shoulder.

"Although, I would like to call you imouto- chan, if that's okay?"

"It's okay," Angie was painfully aware of Tira's naked thigh pressing against her own under the water.

She refused to meet Tira's questioning gaze. A slow smile spread across the woman's lipstick- stained lips, a mischievous expression taking hold on her face.

"Or would you prefer something else?"

Her arm dropped. A squeeze on Angie's upper thigh sent her heart racing. Her lungs tightened, and she couldn't breathe. None of it showed on her face.

Angie cut her eyes at the woman experimentally.

"Well, Onii- chan~" she paused, thinking. She took pleasure in Tira's widening eyes.

"Could you call me your pretty bird again?" She whispered after a beat, moving Tira's hand to her narrow waist. She couldn't believe her boldness, and couldn't believe how quickly she'd adapted either.

Tira faced her head on.

Tira's heart shaped face was framed by long, silky tresses that stuck to her cheeks from the humidity, her large top bun crowning her head in its giant coil. Her long lashes were beaded with water, and her brown eyes glimmered like quartz. The whole image affirmed in Angie's head that her stage name "Empress" was no accident.

"Oh really, you want me to call you Pretty bird?" she sang. She leaned in, and when Angie didn't pull away, she placed a quick, wet kiss on Angie's lips. "Mmm" she licked her lips as if she'd tasted like candy. "Such a pretty bird, my imouto-chan is." She kissed her again. "My pretty, pretty…"

Another kiss, and this time Angie didn't let her pull away.

The women's bodies pressed together in the water, fitting together like the pieces of a puzzle. They drew together like magnets, their soft flesh spreading the oil along each other's skin in ferver as their tongues fought for control in each other's mouths. They haphazardly found their rhythm, Angie's core softening like molten lava at the feeling of Tira's slick treading her thigh.

"God yes~" Tira sighed against her ear as she massaged the girl's breasts on the pool's surface, taking special care around her sore nipples. "You've gotten so bold, noirette." She rubbed the mounds against her own.

Angie whimpered into the hollow of her neck as she licked and bit and kissed her as deep as she dared. She pressed the woman down onto her thigh and rocked, feeling her desire finally begin to flow.

"Onii-chan~" she whined at the feeling of Tira's fingers stroking the base of her wings. She arched her back in pleasure . "T-that feels so- ah!"

"Calling me that right now is dangerous, princess" the woman growled into her open mouth before assaulting it with her own, more hungry, more thirsty than before.

"Ah!" Angie gasped for air in the few gaps the kiss left her to breathe.

Tira ducked below the surface, slurping the girl's peaks into her mouth in one greedy gulp, never slowing her rhythm as she rode her thigh. Instead, she let her legs slide between her own, and let Angie borrow her friction.

Angie cradled the woman's face in her hands as she suckled her, the pleasure sensors in her nipples sighing in sweet relief. She reached around to grab her ass, gripping the pillowy mounds against her as if for dear life. Tira watched her pupil's desperation build through lowered lashes.

"Brlrbrlm?"

"Hm?" Angie wondered if it was the water muffling Tira or her own thoughts.

Breaking the surface once more, she threw her arms around Angie's neck and pulled her close, letting the water help glide Tira back and forth against the girl's cunt.

"I said, do I feel like you imagined, sweetie?"

Tira peered into Angie's swimming gaze as the girl nodded dreamily. She giggled.

"Tira~"

"Hm?"

"I'm g-gonna-"

"Awe, already?" She slowed, rolling her hips with the water. "I'm flattered."

She felt the girl shudder from the pleasure. A string of light curses escaped her delicate lips as she pressed Angie against the tub for more pressure, watching closely as her face contorted in desire. She felt the girl trying her best to hold out as she stroked her, and couldn't help but find it adorable.

Angie watched her back in awe with heavy lids as her teacher floated in her vision. Tracing Tira's figure with painstaking adoration, she reached up, tiredly, and thumbed the woman's nipples, lapping them with her tongue as she maintained what she knew would look like doe-eyed wonder.

Tira's breath hitched, and Angie knew it worked when the woman bit her lip and leaned in to kiss her, deep. She pulled back, looking as though she wanted to devour her.

"God, Angie, is this why those boys are so crazy about you?" She punctuated the question with peck to her nose. "No wonder all these grown men want you. To take good care of you like this."

Pouting, Angie leaned up to graze her jaw with her lips.

"You're better than any man," she sighed, planting kisses down her neck. She felt, more than heard, Tira moan.

"Awe, sweet baby~"

Smiling, Tira twirled two fingers on the surface of the murky water before using them to gently nudge her thighs aside and access her trimmed pussy.

Teasing her lips apart, Tira inserted them inside, laughing throatily as Angie sucked them in with ease.

"Ngah!" Angie sank down on the digits, rutting against them as they beckoned her forward. She couldn't understand her own thoughts outside of the coil of her teacher's fingers. Dribble poured from her mouth as Tira switched positions, spreading her mount to entrap both of Angie's thighs.

"This makes you tighter, noirette" she hummed, as if it were a simple lesson in mathematics.

"And this-"

She bounced as she fingered her, the water pressure popping against Angie's clit as it splashed her opening. She cried out at the dual sensations.

"-is how you take advantage of your environment." She nuzzled her cheek, and began sucking on her earlobe.

"H-how are you fucking me with the water?" She gasped, throwing her head back until she saw the steamy ceiling floating above their lustful bubble.

"There's lots of things I can fuck you with, imouto-Chan" she giggled.

The giggle was choked off when Angie dipped forward and forced entry into her mouth, swallowing her lips with a ferver Tira hadn't known she'd had. For a moment they were both under the water, unable to breathe and barely caring. When they broke the surface again, Tira forced Angie to face the wall as she pressed into her ample ass, rebounding off of its ripples until pleasure throbbed in her core.

"Fu-uck!" Angie wailed, gripping the wall. Tira gasped in time with the laps of the water.

"Ah, ah, fuck, little bird…damn you feel like dough…"

With one hand holding her waist in place against her, Tira worked her hand around to Angie's slit, working her fingers in and out of her tightening hole. Angie leaned into her, her hand finding Tira's between the folds of her thighs. She forced her teacher deeper, coaxing a ripple of pleasure through her core.

"Unh~ Tira! " She whined, her cheek pressed flat against the side of the hottub.

"Yeah?" Tira bit into her neck as she ground herself into her prodigy's plump ass.

Angie surrendered to the feeling of Tira using her body for her own pleasure, doubling over when she felt her teacher take hold of her hips.

"Fuck me, sensei" she whined, "Please?"

"You want me to fuck you baby? You want me to show you how to fuck a woman?"

"Y-yes," she pleaded.

Angie craned her neck so that she could taste her lips one more time, and found Tira's mouth waiting eagerly for just that. Her teacher slowed, riding her ass in languid strokes as their tongues coiled into each other's mouths. Angie couldn't hold on another moment. She squeezed her thighs together, trapping their fingers, and squirting against her sensei's insistent touch. She gasped into her open mouth, and Tira held her there until she finished.

"Finger me," she purred, licking Angie's essence from her manicure. Angie quickly obliged.

Backing Angie to the wall, Tira rode her pupil's fingers on her own, bobbing in the water as she played with her own stiff peaks.

As she bobbed, the water lapped across the tub, creating ripples that made the low-lights dance. Angie could see nothing but Tira's slender back, but felt her pleasure in every cell of her form.

Angie felt her own pussy contract again as Tira finally made herself come on her flexing fingers, casting a glance over her shoulder at her student's awed expression.

Tira slowed, holding the digits to her stiff clit as she pursued an even higher peak, forcing Angie to watch her get her nut. Angie couldn't look away.

She wailed as she came again, and again, her eyes rolling as she pinned Angie to the wall.

"Gah!"

The woman heaved as she slid into the space between Angie's arms, finally resting in the crook of her neck as pleasure broke against their balmy skin. They let themselves stay there for a while, limbs tangled, before one of them finally spoke.

"Fuck." Angie murmured.

Tira pecked her cheek once, then twice. Lingering by her ear, she licked the crown playfully as if she was only getting started. That is, until she pulled away, and floated to the edge of the pool, giggling.

"Wow." Was all Angie could muster.

Tira smiled.

"Mmm. Indeed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night finally arrived.

Gojo and Geto stood across from one another on the train as it sped them toward their instructed destination, the Tokyo City Concert Hall. The car was full of salarymen, no doubt on their way home for the night, completely oblivious to the threat that either boy posed to them, or the protection they provided- but what else was new.

The pair found themselves huddled in the farthest alcoves of the rounded train they could get, away from the bustling crowd that would likely ignore them anyway, hoping the sway of the carriage muffled their words.

"I feel like something is up tonight." Geto muttered, half to himself.

"You, me, and the whole dorm. I mean," Gojo motioned to the suits the pair had donned in preparation for the night, "who wears these to a booty call?"

Gojo had dressed sharply in a three piece black and alabaster suit, pressed, tailored, and detailed for the night at Tira’s request. He wore a black button down and blazer jacket that matched his hair, the lapels held in place on either breast with blue sapphire pins that had been awarded to him by the Gojo clan at his 16th birthday ritual, marking his maturity and blood connection to the clan. The material of the suit emphasized the bulk he usually obscured in his dark, boxy school uniforms, his broad shoulders and trim waist making the suit look more as if it were wearing him than vice versa.

Besides the suit, he’d hidden his eyes behind a pair of dark shades a grade nicer than his usual pair, their construction made from carved wood rather than metal, stenciled on the sides with his initials. His cufflinks caught the mechanical light of the train and winked every time he moved, their ore immutable genuine silver. The same was true of the small blue gem he wore in one ear, which Geto had never seen him wear before that night. The only thing about the boy that was recognizable was the tuft of tussled cloud-white hair that sat atop his head.

“When did you get your ear pierced?”

Gojo muttered.

“Huh?”

“...Mei said it would look good on me.”

Geto scoffed. “Well earrings are my thing so don’t you dare-”

“Dare what? Outdress you?”

The dark haired boy smirked. No way was Gojo outdressing him in that monkey suit.

Geto had cleaned up just as well, his own scarlet and charcoal suit ironed down to the creases the way his mother had shown him, crisped from the top collar to the cuffs of his sleeves. His red satin button down matched the pocket square (which he almost hadn’t found in time) in the lapel of his dark suit, and his black tie had been pinned into place beneath a gold clip with the emblem of a dragon- a gift from his grandfather, as if he’d known about his powers in advance.

That night, he’d exchanged his usual metal ear gauges for a pair of onyx disks that he’d bought specially for the occasion, and they glinted from his ears with a subtle glossy depth that made him look mysterious.

Rather than precious jewelry, he’d opted for a more down to earth vibe with black volcanic beads encircling either wrist, stacked around his favorite vintage watch. His black nails had been freshly cleaned, painted, and trimmed.

Finally, not knowing how he should do his hair, he’d opted for his usual clipped bun and bangs, sweeping them away from his face as neatly as he could muster.

“I’ll admit, you look clean, but you look like you’re going to prom.” Gojo shrugged, playfully.

“And you look like you're putting Nana Gojo to rest.”

This stop is Shinjuku City- I repeat, Shinjuku City. Please watch your step.

The boys ducked under the low- hanging sign to the station’s entrance as they stepped onto the street. They looked left and right, trying their best to not look like fish out of water.

“I don’t suppose you know how to get there?”

“You went on map quest, right?”

The boys blinked at each other, and face palmed.

This was gonna be a long night.

After a long trek through the darkening streets of Tokyo, as well as several sets of bad directions, Gojo and Geto finally found the grand old building that was to host the variety show that they'd anticipated since Tira's call.

With the block out front as packed with tough customers as any club, the opera house stood to be used that evening as a cooperative territory for underworld-goers and their business. The boys watched the building light up just as the last light of the day fell, its red carpet unfurled in preparation for the guests that would be stepping through the door any minute.

The large windows of the modern relic stood tall and wide, propositioning onlookers to look into them as if they were the building's eyes. Beyond them was the shimmer of multiple chandeliers, golden wallpaper, and a ceiling painted to put the sistine chapel to shame.

Geto whistled in appreciation. This was where they were meeting them? His thoughts of the weeks before replayed in his mind, where he'd asked Angie on a date after they'd….

Well, if this was the first date, what would the second look like? Did this even count as a date?

"Satoru?"

"Yeah?"

"What exactly did your connection intend with us when she asked us to attend this event and- quote- 'bring all the cash in our sock drawer'? "

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"And why don't I get to meet her?"

"She said that she wasn't available to me tonight, but that she wanted to proposition me on something. I don't know. She plays games like this a lot, but this is the most elaborate one yet."

"And why was I involved?" Geto cocked his head, half concerned, half amused.

"Hm. Well she said something about a game that would take both of us? And she obviously knows who you are by name, although…not sure how…" he trailed off, realizing just how little he knew about what Tira had planned for them that night.

"Uhhhuh…and what's stopping me from getting back on the train, Satoru?"

"Because I know she'll be here tonight." Gojo smirked.

Geto's face fell, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't give me that,'' Gojo nudged him, "she hasn't responded for weeks again, but all of a sudden she did, right? And now you decide to step out with me, because you invited her, right? I'm not as stupid as my last final made me seem, Suguru."

"Well," the dark haired boy grimaced, rubbing his neck even more harshly as if trying to set it ablaze, "you're actually right, minus a few details…"

"Suguru?"

Geto had stopped his 5am run to respond.

"Raven!"

"Hello! Sorry, can't talk long, or ill get caught. I know this is odd, but will you come to see me dance?"

"Yes! Of course, why would that be weird?"

"Because your friend with the glasses will be there too. The one you were looking for when you…found me"

"...oh. uh, sorry. Why?"

"Because it turns out that I… service him too…and my mentor is putting my services up for auction. Please be sure to win me. See you soon."

The conversation had raised more questions than answers, but after speaking to them both, Suguru knew that whatever the game was, he needed to win.

Geto's jaw muscles worked as he watched Gojo talk absentmindedly about how tight his blazer was on his shoulders. He watched the white haired boy closely, as if seeing him again for the first time.

Traitor.

Woah. Where had that come from?

Gojo turned and was caught off guard by the look in Geto's dark eyes.

"Woah, man, you okay?"

Suguru averted his gaze. "Yeah, just nervous about seeing her, like you said."

"Well she better get here soon, we're about to head in."

The boys had finally made it to the front of the line, and knew from the moment they'd made eye contact with the doorman that they weren't getting in without a fight.

"Card carriers only" he sneered at the boys down his long, slender nose.

"That's funny, I believe I carry a card,"

Smiling warmly, Gojo slid his fingers into the folds of his wallet, and withdrew two things- his fake ID, and a black coated metal credit card that weighed far too much for its size. Geto had never seen him use it for anything more than a status symbol, but had a sneaking suspicion that its credit limit was as infinite as its owner's technique.

The Maitre D's eyes sparkled at the sight of the card, and after flicking his eyes between the small rectangle of privilege and the boy wielding it with bright blue eyes, he shifted his gaze to Suguru.

"And you, sir?"

Geto blushed.

Before Gojo could claim him as his companion, the sound of dozens of pairs of clicking heels echoed down the sidewalk, and the boys- along with the other sidewalk dwellers, party-goers, and opera house connoisseurs- turned to see where the sound was coming from.

The first impression of the performers was that of walking art. They moved as one in shimmering outfits, their various props bobbing on their swaying hips and in their slender hands. They looked neither left, nor right, but straight ahead as they bypassed the line of patrons that gawked at their enormous presence.

"Ah, here are the ladies of the auction now."

"Auction?" Gojo questioned, the boys' eyes never leaving the parade of forest nymphs, water lillied- fairies, and exotic looking interpretive dancers.

And among them, they spotted her at once.

Raven wore a black diamond mask, her high cheekbones and lips dusted in a purple-black shade that made her look fierce and siren-like in her expression. Her wings, sprayed in a glittery sheen that made them look like a night sky full of stars, were on full display behind her, catching the attention of every onlooker that had dared to watch her. However, it wasn't just her anthropomorphic traits that had arrested attention.

The girl wore a shortened kimono that had been modified to her shapely body, the hem likely only extending an inch beyond her finger tips.

The thin veil of fabric was imprinted with white cranes and flowers throughout its tight coverage of her rounded hips and bust, rippling with extra fabric in places only to mimic waves on pitch-black water.

Further accentuating her figure was a large black- satin ribbon, encircling her torso and exploding in a bow off of her perky ass, with several strings of tinsel and black coins that protruded from it creating music in time with her walk.

And her walk; she strutted in time with the other dancers on her long, shapely legs, her more-sheer-than-sheer stockings making it look as though her thick thighs had been stuck with precious gems, embedded into her smooth mocha skin as if by magic.

Her black heels clicked as she marched forward, her hands hidden in the long sleeves of the kimono- the only thing about it that was modest.

In all her glory, Raven looked like a cross between a porcelain doll and a fallen angel, one that had been brought to life to seek revenge on her maker.

As if feeling their eyes on her, Angie's gaze flitted to the boys at the front of the line, just as she was about to enter the venue. They'd been frozen to the spot by her entrance.

Feeling a swell of pride, she continued to strut and avoid drinking in their looks- there would be time for that later.

That is, until she saw that the bouncer had stopped them at the door.

The girls turned at once to face the crowd, immediately catching the interest of everyone in line.

The parade of women clapped rhythmically three times, before raising their hands, and bowing deeply.

"Meshiagare!"

They repeated themselves in several languages for their foreign guests.

"Bon appetit! Please enjoy!"

And with that, they filed into the venue as fluidly as swans.

"Sir, these are my personal guests." Angie broke from the line of girls and approached the man as the rest of the performers entered, applause at their backs from the line of patrons that had watched their entrance.

Taking the maitre d's elbow in her taloned forefinger and thumb, she stood until the man brought his ear to her lips.

"Empress' request."

"Ah," the man nodded, infinitely more agreeable with her than he'd been with the two boys.

"Follow me." He said, " I have special instructions for you two."

Geto and Gojo shared a look of ultimate confusion, but- to Gojo's disappointment and Geto's painful chagrin- Raven had left in a plume of black ribbon and glitter without sparing them a second glance.

When the boys entered the venue on the trail of yet another host, they couldn't focus their eyes on anything ahead of them; all their attention was reserved for the ceiling, walls, and extremely lively crowd.

The crowd was made up of men and women from several countries and nearly all walks of life- human, half human, or otherwise. The cursed energy they felt wafting from the party goers was almost enough to make them defensive, but was still jovial enough to make them feel at home.

Men in blazers stood in huddles, exchanged business cards, and even played miniature croquette in one corner of the room; their female counterparts floated about on their arms, nodding in time with conversation and punctuating sentences with light laughter.

Before they'd gotten their barings, the host turned to them abruptly at the center of the room.

"Which of you is Suguru?"

The dark haired boy raised two fingers in acknowledgement.

"Raven would like to see you in the hall. And you must be Satoru," the host half asked, half asserted.

Gojo raised his snowy brows expectantly.

"You will be helped shortly. Enjoy the refreshments."

Before Geto could exit, Gojo placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Raven?" He asked without facing his friend head on. "That's the name of the girl you're in love with?"

Geto worked to keep his expression neutral. "You know her?"

Gojo didn't respond.

"Be right back" Geto just short of spat.

Gojo watched him go from behind the sheen of his dark shades. He was unsure of just how much Geto knew, but was suddenly very sure that he wouldn't fail this intuition test, when it came to finding out.

A waitress stepped into his line of vision.

"Champagne?"

He hesitated before picking up a long-stemmed flute. He didn't usually need the courage, but he would tonight.

~~~~~

"Mmph!"

Geto exclaimed when he felt the girl's lips on his the second he stepped into the shadowy alcove off of the main hall.

Separating from his mouth with a small *pop* the girl dug around in her dress until she'd uncovered what she was looking for.

"Here, hurry, take this." Angie shoved a small note card into his hand, glossy and folded over so that he couldn't see what was in it until he opened it.

"I have to explain-"

"Yes. Please."

"Will you let me?"

Geto blinked, his dark eyes trained on nothing but her. His silent answer was loud and clear.

"Okay. Open the card."

He flipped it open. It was blank, save for one thing.

Taped inside the card was a small, black coin the size of a checkers piece. It was waxy and grooved, and opaque as far as he could tell.

"That is the Bidder's coin. Well, no one is supposed to know which of my coins are bidder's coins," she motioned to the remaining coins that encircled her waist and bow, "because not all of them are. There are only three."

Geto's brow crinkled.

"Wai-"

"Not done. No time. As I was saying, this is a bidder's coin." She tapped the card. "It means that when the time comes, at the end of the night, only those with coins like yours will be allowed to bid for me. It's supposed to be a game of chance, but I need you to win, so I delivered one straight to you."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't-" Angie's eyes were large, round, and wet- "you won't be allowed to see me again."

~~~

In the next room, Gojo had successfully downed two and a half flutes of champagne, and a shot of cognac that had been offered to him by a French sailor. Apparently the French had the best cognac.

"Vous aimez?" The sailor asked, winking.

Gojo shook his head and shrugged.

"I speak Japanese, sorry" he responded, half wondering if the man had really spoken another language, or if he'd already succumbed to the alcohol.

The sailor made an 'aha' nod of the head, and motioned as if taking a swig. He then put his thumbs up and raised his brows in a questioning sort of way.

"Ohh you asked if I like it. Yeah, thanks. I-its strong."

The sailor laughed, clapping a hand on his back. Gojo hoped he'd been understood, but when he was handed another shot, his shoulders sagged. He didn't know if he could handle any more. He was already breaking the rules of his clan- the very rules that had made him an unfortunate lightweight in the first place- and needed to figure out how to say 'no' in French.

The tinkling of a glass quieted the room, and all attention was drawn to a balcony that Gojo hadn't previously noticed was there. A suited man with a long lapel on his jacket, and a slicked ponytail with shaved sides, was clinking his glass with a fork.

"Ah, esteemed guests!"

Gojo scanned the room. All of the guests looked well dressed, but some of them were hardly esteemed by his standards. Some of them looked like bodybuilders that had been painted into suits. And was that the dragon gang in the corner-?

"It is a pleasure to see you all on this hallowed night. As we finish welcoming members from outside, I thought it would be an excellent time to make a toast!"

He raised his glass, and the crowd followed suit.

"To the owners of this opera hall, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for allowing us to host our show- one of talent, valor, and prestige.

To our girls, thank you for bringing us such a delectable assortment of entertainment to enjoy each year. You are truly the highlight of our dreary yearly toil.

And to our donors, it is because of your generosity that we feast our eyes, stomachs, and souls on all that our little society offers.

Cheers!"

Gojo's jaw dropped. He would need to take some pointers from this man for his next public speaking class.

He took a sip from the glass of cognac that had warmed in his clammy hand. At least, he thought he would take a sip, but the glass he drew back was empty.

Ugh. I need to slow down.

"Now, for the rules of the night!" The man continued, his smile broadening as if the bubbles of his champagne had buoyed his spirit even higher than before.

~~~~~

"So here are the rules" Angie's tearful gaze had Suguru pinned to the wall.

Suguru swallowed fearfully.

"Go on."

Angie gingerly grabbed at the coins looping her waist.

"These black coins will be distributed to the players on the floor. They are made of plastic and a special kind of wax."

~~~~~

"As the night progresses," the slick haired man boomed, " the wax will melt from the coin, and only plastic will remain. In order for it to melt, you must keep it warm in the palm of your hand."

~~~~~

"When the wax is gone, the other coins will be blank, but yours- and two others- will have a four leaf clover in the center when you hold it to the light."

Suguru held the opaque coin up, picturing the clover as if it had already been revealed.

~~~~~~

"And when it is revealed, at the appropriate time, you will ring a bell that will be stored beneath your seat. There will be three ringing bells tonight."

The man poured over the crowd with a sweeping gaze, languishing in the suspense.

"Then" he said finally, "and only then, will the bidding begin."

~~~~~

"And they will bid for me to serve them exclusively until the next game."

Geto felt like he was going to black out.

"Raven, what makes you think I can outbid anyone in there?"

"Because it's rigged. I'm not sure how besides this," she tapped the coin again, "but my sensei says that this is necessary for us to continue to see each other. I'm s-s-sorry-" Angie bit her lip.

"I promise it will be okay," she continued, "it's just that…well…I didn't know if you would do this for me."

Geto's stomach did a flip at the sight of the gorgeous girl on the verge of years.

"H-hey," he reached out a hand to sweep away one of her tears before it could streak her painstakingly applied makeup.

"Its gonna be okay. If this is what it takes, I'll do it. You did say that this was complicated for you, right? Let's make it uncomplicated."

He grabbed her hands in his and kissed them.

"I'm gonna win. And when I do, you're gonna tell me your name, hm?"

The dark fae smiled.

"Deal."

~~~~~~~~

Gojo's attention was drawn to the door as it swung open to reveal Raven, but not his best friend. Raising a brow, he scanned the crowd to see if he could pick up his cursed energy, but it was nowhere to be found.

His eyes returned to Raven as she mingled with the crowd, the patrons bombarding her for a closer look, and eventually, a coin from her dress. She giggled as she swam her way through the thickening attention.

"Let her breathe!" The man called playfully from the balcony. "She still has to dance!"

Should I ask her where he went?

Still searching, he didn't realize he'd lost sight of the girl until she was tapping his shoulder.

"Gojo! You made it!"

He turned and looked down into her face, smiling.

"Angie!"

"Shhh! They can't know my real name here. Call me Raven."

Oh yeah, Raven.

"Want a coin?" She grinned, offering him a plastic disk from her dress.

"Uh, no, I don't think I'll be playing." He shook his head, making his vision blur for a moment. "I did want to ask you something though-"

“Are you Satoru?”

The pair turned to see yet another plain-vested host, this one with an odd birthmark in the middle of his forehead.

“Uhh- why, yes, I am.”

“I have instructions to show you to your box ahead of the show.”

“Oh wow, box seats Gojo?” Raven’s eyes danced in delight. “You and your friend are gonna have some of the best seats in the house!”

Gojo’s brow furrowed, “Oh, wow. I didn’t even know I had those.”

The waiter shook his head. “Empress’ request.”

Damn, Tira, Gojo smirked, Little prince indeed.

“Oh, sure. Let me just get my friend-”

“Your friend has his own box.” The man quipped, matter-of-factly.

“Uh, oh, okay. Well, can I go find him anyway?”

“This will only take a moment, sir, then you can do as you wish.”

Raven nudged him. “I think Geto is in the alley just outside the back door, if you want to find him after. I have to go, but I really hope you guys enjoy!”

And with that, just like at the door, Raven disappeared with her ribbons streaming behind her.

Gojo grimaced.

“Well, okay. Lead the way, my man.”

After several rounds of winding steps, Gojo was shown to a velvety box that already sat several other high-brow looking guests. Their chatter was light and stopped only when he entered. It was dark, so he couldn’t tell how many there were, but they all gawked at him as if he were the first entree of the night.

“Uh, hello.” He bowed.

He could tell by the chuckles that several of them weren’t japanese. A woman snapped open her fan and hid her face.

“Oookay.”

“Your seat, sir.”

Gojo followed the tall, slender man to the banister that overlooked the venue, where a line of chairs waited. At the head of the line was a velvet chair, and on it sat an envelope with his name on it.

“Enjoy the show.” The host swept away.

Gojo scanned the chair before retrieving the card and turning it over. Attached to it was a small black coin, and a few words written in a gorgeous script that could only have been Tira’s.

“Fate finds those who do not choose their destiny, little prince.” he read aloud.

“Do with this what you will.”

[TO BE CONTINUED]

#gojo satoru #geto suguru #black oc #mha oc #jjk

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