30. Kyle

CHAPTER 30

Kyle

K yle did have a good night. All his Sunday regulars left satisfied without any issues, and his one new client – a trans male Upper – proved to be exceptionally fun. He was more interested in asking Kyle questions than getting down to business, and it wasn't long before Kyle coerced the true meaning of the visit from the softly-spoken man's lips: research for the book he was writing.

Kyle had only one question.

Factually accurate non-fiction, or smut?

When the client blushingly confessed to the latter, Kyle leapt on the opportunity to regale him with exaggerated stories of daring scenes, accompanied by... demonstrations , ramping it up just slowly enough to ensure the man would return for a few more sessions.

Upon hearing he'd booked another six on his way out of the House, Kyle felt a ridiculous amount of satisfaction.

He made his way to the showers where the other staff members were beginning to gather. Some washed quickly, eager to get home, while others lingered with no particular plans now that their shifts were finished.

And one was sidling up to Kyle, biting his full bottom lip and conveniently losing the towel from around his waist.

"Adam," Kyle said warily to the culprit as he turned the water off and reached for his own towel. The boy draped himself against the partition wall and rolled his hips in a contrived movement designed to show off his ass. "Why do you look so suspicious?"

"I do not look suspicious," Adam protested crossly, folding his arms across his chest. "I look enticing. Desirable. Takeable ."

"Unsatisfied?" Kyle suggested and Adam sighed, dropping the act and straightening up.

"Dearly so," he admitted, pouting. "My last client was a dick who got me all worked up and then left without finishing me. I'm meant to be meeting my parents for breakfast in half an hour, and I refuse to turn up sporting this ." He waved a hand to gesture between his legs.

Anyone else might have simply taken care of himself in the shower, but that wasn't Adam's thing. He got off on other people using him.

Kyle chuckled. "Alright. Let me-"

A voice cut in from the doorway to the shower room, the tone clipped and efficient.

"No. I need Kyle to go through some paperwork."

Kyle glanced over, drinking in the sight of Akira and his languid grace. Even standing clothed amidst a roomful of mostly naked men, today with a charcoal grey waistcoat over his silk shirt, he drew every scrap of Kyle's attention. Akira looked mouth-wateringly good, his tailored suit clinging to the lines of his body and his open collar giving the tiniest, most tempting hints at what lay beneath.

"Master," whined Adam. "I neeeeed ."

Epsilon raised a scathing eyebrow and for a moment, Kyle expected him to order the boy to remain untouched. Adam must have thought so too, for he whimpered and dropped his head in supplication.

Akira considered him for a moment, letting him sweat. Then he cleared his throat.

"Sanjay?"

Adam's whines turned from plaintive to grateful.

Wearing a sadistic smile, Sanjay sauntered over to them. "You want it straight, or do you want to play?" he asked. He must have seen something in Adam's expression because he didn't wait for the answer before putting a hand on the sub's head and shoving him down to his knees on the wet tiles.

"Then you're going to be my good little slut and gag on my cock in front of all these nice people," Sanjay drawled, shoving himself down Adam's throat with no preamble whatsoever, "and maybe I'll listen when you beg me to let you come."

"Kyle," Akira said, impatient, and Kyle tore his eyes from the entrancing scene and moaning submissive to follow his boss through the door, dragging on a pair of sweatpants as he did so.

The Master handed him something over his shoulder without looking. Kyle made a happy noise when he recognised the folded square of material as his Livin' on a Prayer t- shirt, and then paused, examining it. Something was…different.

"What did you do to it?" he accused Akira's back.

"Nothing. But I did have something done to it."

"I knew it!" said Kyle. "You're so annoying that you can't even let me enjoy my present without ruining it."

"It wasn't a present."

"Of course it was. So what did you have done to it?"

"I had it cleaned, Kyle," Akira said dismissively, beginning to ascend the stairs. "You've been wearing it for nearly five days straight, and I recall purchasing it well enough to know the sweat stains weren't part of the original design."

Purchasing it. Oh, didn't that just give him happy little daydreams of Master Epsilon wandering through the markets up on Level B, street food in hand, tossing up between Bon Jovi and Def Leppard?

"You're humming. What are you thinking about?"

"That you made the right choice," said Kyle. "Joe Elliott has amazing vocals, but Jon Bon Jovi wins out every time."

Akira's jaw twitched, and could Kyle dare hope that it was to cover a smile?

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said eventually, in a flat and dispassionate voice as if they were discussing something dull instead of the best music ever made.

Kyle pinched the shirt between two fingers and tugged it away from his body. "It doesn't smell right."

"It still smells like you," said Akira, and Kyle choked on his own tongue. He faltered, wondering if he should pursue that comment further, but the other man had marched into his office without a backwards glance. Kyle followed on his heels, excitement mounting when what the Master had said in the showers finally registered.

"Go through paperwork, huh?" Kyle asked in a low voice. Arousal stirred between his legs as Akira reached the desk and began to turn around. "What a terrible euphemism-"

"Oh," he said, finding a set of financials pressed into his reaching hands. "You actually meant it."

Epsilon's expression darkened. "I was running the House's numbers for the month, and do you know what I found?"

Kyle stared blankly at him.

"A discrepancy, Kyle. In your figures. Specifically, an unauthorised discount for Austin Macarthur."

"Oh, that," Kyle said easily, flopping down into a chair and resting his elbows on its arms. "The guy's lonely. He just wants to cuddle."

Akira raised an eyebrow, clearly unmoved. "And he buys a House Dominant for that?"

"We…ll," Kyle admitted, stretching out the word. "He also likes to be choked sometimes while being cuddled. It's kind of half and half." He rocked a hand in the air to demonstrate the balance.

"I wish I could choke you sometimes," Akira muttered under his breath.

Kyle considered that. "In the sexy kind of way?"

"In the you're an absolute moron kind of way," he snapped, dashing Kyle's hopes. "Do you know what this means?"

"Uh..."

"What is on that page, Kyle?" Epsilon demanded, dropping his eyes to the financial documents he held. Paper might have been expensive but it was much more reliable than rune-powered technology, as well as easier to destroy when it contained evidence of criminal activity like the Houses' prostitution. It was the same reason they wrote the night's appointments on the staffroom whiteboard, and why Epsilon kept a physical work diary.

"Money," Kyle shot off instantly, intending to be sarcastically hilarious. Unfortunately, he seemed to have given the correct answer.

"Money. And do you know what funds your paycheck?"

"Money," Kyle said with a sigh. It wasn't so clever an answer this time around.

"Exactly."

"Give Austin a break, Master? He just broke up with a long-term boyfriend and wants asphyxiating cuddles. Who could be so heartless as to not give someone like that a discount?"

The unimpressed look on the other man's face told Kyle exactly who.

"It just seemed like the right thing to do-"

"Then do it," Akira said, exasperated, and Kyle blinked. "The proper way, by asking me first ."

Kyle held up his hands. "Fine, fine! I get it. Forms, procedures, soul-sucking bureaucracy. You somehow take all the fun out of sex work, but fine ."

Akira yanked the financials out of his hands and carelessly tossed the slim sheath of paper onto the desk. Then he wrapped his fingers around the arms of the chair Kyle was seated in, and leaned forward to cage him in.

Kyle tried to remember how to breathe.

The Master had his mean face on, the one he wore when he was about to cane someone to within an inch of their life. Or maybe go down on them with such ruthlessness, they came within seconds, screaming. Kyle wasn't sure which was the kinder fate, but if he had to die he was pretty sure he'd prefer the latter.

"Do it again," Akira said in a low, menacing voice, "and I'll dock double the discounted credits from your own pay."

Kyle's mouth opened. "Double?" he spluttered, suffering the dual disappointments of both the unreasonable threat and the absence of the other man's lips stretched around his dick. "That seems excessive."

Akira gave an uncaring shrug and drew slowly upright, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves like the pretentious asshole he was. "For a second offence, not at all. It necessitates a harsher punishment than the first."

Kyle pulled a face when he realised what that meant.

No more iced lattes for him, and it would make it even harder to meet the rent increase his landlord had imposed.

Akira was still watching him expectantly, as if waiting for something. When Kyle looked at him, confused, he let out a low hum of consideration.

"Not going to call me names? Threaten to quit? Offer sexual favours to get me to change my mind?"

Kyle frowned. "Of course not. That would be inappropriate."

"Which part?"

"All of it," he said. "Akira, what's-"

"I need you to take over some of the management responsibilities of the House," said the other man. "I'm going to have to attend more...offsite meetings in the coming months, and I need someone to keep an eye on things here."

Speaking of eyes, he wasn't meeting Kyle's.

"Master," Kyle said slowly. "What are you saying? Where are you going?"

"I'm promoting you to manager, Kyle. We can allocate most of your clients among the other staff so that you have the time to manage House Epsilon's day to day business. Please don't give all the troublesome ones to Casey…or rather do, because it will be you who has to deal with his incessant complaining."

"You... really think I'm the best person to take over for you?" asked Kyle. The words sounded unreal. He was going to be a manager?

"Put it this way," Akira said bluntly. "I think there's a good chance you're going to run my business into the ground."

"But...then why?"

"I also," the Master added, a wry smile tugging on those sinful lips, "trust you to dig it back out again."

Kyle coughed on a laugh.

"You don't need to worry about the financials – I'll be in to sort those before month's end," Akira assured him. "Just keep the place running."

An uncomfortable thought slid into Kyle's brain and refused to leave, poking and prodding at him. "You're not just doing this because we...is it because I...?"

Fuck, how did he accuse him of nepotism without giving offence?

Hey boss, did you promote me because we started fucking on the semi-regular?

Epsilon's eyes narrowed. He'd gotten the gist, all right.

He slid his runepad from his pocket and unlocked it before tossing it at Kyle, who fumbled the catch and had to snatch it up from where it had landed heavily on his lap.

"A request to the Coterie for you to be authorised to handle House Epsilon's affairs," Akira told him shortly. "Dated ten days ago."

That was before they'd fallen into each other's arms. Even before he'd soothed Kyle's ruffled feathers after his encounter with Miles Mackenroth.

Kyle stared at the words on the screen that spoke of a trusted employee who had consistently displayed excellent leadership and was exceedingly capable of taking on additional responsibility .

Surely that wasn't about him? He wasn't any of those things.

He was just...Kyle.

Akira's shadow loomed over him once more. "Now," the Master said with that cold, dangerous impatience, "are there any more of my decisions you would like to question, or will you get on with your fucking job?"

Kyle read the words again. And again.

Doubt loomed, heavy and unrelenting.

"I really don't think I'll be any good at this."

"You are, Kyle," assured Akira. Kyle liked how he spoke his name, liked hearing it on his lips. "You might not see it, but you're the reason this House has stayed standing for so long."

"You're its Master," protested Kyle, glancing up as Akira retrieved the runepad from his limp fingers.

"And you're everything else. Without you to temper my...less civilised side, my staff would have fled from me long ago, and rightfully so. You keep them working hard without relying on fear to do so, and while that had been my aim when I established House Epsilon, I hadn't the faintest clue how to achieve it." Akira's smile was faint, but it was there, and Kyle wanted to trace it with his fingers. "You hold far more respect in our industry than any of us Masters, Kyle."

Kyle's skin felt hot. "Now you're just saying things."

Akira laughed. Genuine amusement deepened his voice and echoed from the walls of the office. "You're not a client, sweetheart. There's no need to offer you false praise."

Giving the other man a suspicious look, Kyle folded his arms. "Except for getting me to accept this promotion."

"The pay increase that accompanies the promotion gets you to accept it," said Akira, teeth sliding into his smile to remind him that he was still a predator at heart. He had Kyle right where he wanted him, because credits truly were a powerful motivator in this shithole of a city when they could literally mean the difference between life and death. "The compliments are gifted with sincerity."

Kyle felt his face heating up. He could listen to men praise his body or skills in bed all day – he could especially listen to Akira say such things – but admiring him for being nice to his colleagues and not acting like an asshole? That seemed like a low bar.

Then again, it was Xerxes. Asshole was the default setting for most of its residents, their mayor being a prime example of that.

"Excellent," drawled Master Epsilon, who was watching his face. The bastard hadn't even waited for Kyle to give his answer. "Congratulations. And I trust you won't set a bad example by being late anymore now that you're…"

He trailed off, frowning at the window. "Is that chaos outside?"

"I don't know," Kyle said, straightening in the chair. Akira wouldn't interrupt an opportunity to lecture him for anything less than the world ending. Again. "What's happening?"

"No, it's…Kyle, Chaos, " Akira urged, and Kyle moved to join him. On the third and highest storey of the building, Epsilon's office was tucked just beneath the ceiling of the city level itself, and the red emergency lighting glowed blearily through the scratched glass of the small window. Otherwise there was little that could be seen without craning their necks down to the street, and-

Something moved in the bottom left pane: not beyond the window, but against it. Fur brushed the glass and then eager claws began to scratch at it.

"Chaos!" Kyle blurted, the indistinct grey and white shape resolving into the most resourceful of his three cats. His fingers desperately swept the frame of the window for a latch or handle, even though he knew there were none. Buildings weren't constructed with fire safety in mind, not this far down on Xerxes, and opening windows here hardly brought the benefit of fresh air. "How did you get…what are you doing…"

The questions continued as he ran down the stairs and burst out into the street, staring up at the third-floor window.

But the narrow ledge was now empty.

Kyle felt sick. If she'd fallen…

An impatient meow echoed from the direction of his feet, and he looked down to find Chaos pawing at his ankle, claws extended. Her murder mittens flashed in the neon lighting of House Epsilon's sign milliseconds before the pain registered.

"Ow! Fuck. "

And then Akira was there, striding from the House's entrance and across the street towards him. He looked as calm and unperturbed as usual, as though he hadn't dashed down three flights of stairs on Kyle's heels. He merely offered a brusque nod. "She is well?"

Kyle scooped Chaos up and checked her over before snuggling his face into her belly. The scratches, scars, and lost limbs of the cat's skinny body could all be accounted for. "Seems to be. But…why is she here?"

He glanced over his shoulder as if he could see his apartment from here despite it being two sectors away. Had something happened? He let the cats out every now and then – not that Havoc seemed to appreciate the reminder that he was supposed to exercise – but they weren't able to leave once he'd locked the door like he always did when he left for work. "I need to get home."

With an armful of squirming cat, Kyle dashed for the end of the street. Worry for Mayhem and Havoc infested his thoughts, curling and twisting so deep that he was halfway home before he realised Akira was still at his side, keeping swift pace with him every step of the way.