a light chuckle of a matching malicious nature escaped him, and while normally he might’ve corrected the angel ( you are one, now ) he let it slide this one time. it made him curious if next time the blonde would be so lucky?
❝ nothing you have t’ worry your pretty lil’ head about, ❞ mockery, ❝ jus’ a formality to keep the business runnin’ yanno? ❞
Shinjou led the other into a room on the opposite end of the compound; one where such dirt like the angels weren’t allowed to enter — along with most of the place, really. he directed Ciro into one of the leather chairs behind the desk; ❝ sit, ❞ still wearing a twisted expression; something far too innocent of a smile to be fitting for the situation at hand. ❝ they’ll arrive shortly. go fetch them, ❞ the albino turned to one of the men that constantly seemed to follow him wherever he went, while he seated himself in the captive’s lap.
the fox’s arms wound loosely around the man’s neck, one claw trailing an idle path along his jawline to lead him closer to the mafian’s own face, and he spoke in a whisper; ❝ relax. you cain’t appear scared in front of people like these. ❞ a soft chuckle loosened itself from his throat then, and his lips stretched into a vile smile.
once the people in question arrived — just two of them; an older looking man with a younger, more tough-looking companion — the yakuza head barely bothered with proper welcomes. only a portion of his attention strayed from Ciro to these two; it was hard to decipher whether he did it just to further fluster the angel or if he really didn’t have all that much respect towards the people that were supposed to finance him — or perhaps both?
more than anything, it would be Ciro’s first real opportunity to see what exactly the demon’s group does for a living. what they discussed was the price of one of the prisoners that seemed to be showing some unusual potential — and Shinjou demanded quite a lot of money for him. oddly enough, his hands never really left the blonde’s body — and in general, he seemed much more calmer than at any other point in time.
and whenever one of the others had the audacity to ask about the Head’s new escort, all the spirit would ever answer with was a variety of vague answers;
❝ A’ figured A’ needed some fresh blood alongside me. ❞
❝ cute, ain’t he? ❞
❝ not for sale. not yet, unless A’ change my mind. ❞ accompanied by suggestive little touches and smiles, and occassional grinding againist the angel’s hips, as well as encouraging tugs at the his collar to reciprocate this sick affection.
in the end, the male angel had been sold to the unknown man — Shinjou not once asking what they were planning to do with him, all that interested him was getting the biggest amount of sum for his head. the youkai gave a mindless wave of his hand towards one of his advisors; ❝ he’ll escort you, gentlemen, to your new property, and out. ❞ his goodbyes were given in the form of an arrogant smile, and a hand gesture to leave.
ciro does little to hide his grimace at the attitude of the other. embarrassment lingers in the unhappy expression; the chain feels heavy around his neck, and tempts him to duck his head, and slouch his shoulders -- but he doesn’t. his pride won’t allow him to look like a beaten dog, so he stands tall, with his back straight, and his gaze on the back of the shorter male. he follows in silence, and it’s only after they reach areas he’s never been allowed that his eyes start to wander.
there’s more than simple curiosity in the way he glances into rooms. he’s examining, and memorizing. once led into the conference room, and commanded to sit, his reluctance returns. the reminder that shinjou hasn’t yet decided his worth eventually encourages him into the chair. surprise flutters across resignation, and meandering thoughts return at once to the one in his lap. the warning barely registers in his mind as he stares into the malicious gaze of his ‘master.’
who? who is shinjou meeting? bright eyes dance from the demon to the men he’s supposed to be doing business with. his role in the meeting becomes apparent as he feels cold hands wander carelessly. his focus becomes torn between the sale -- so that’s why angels just disappear so suddenly -- and shinjou. ciro feels the tug at the collar, and fights the urge to resist the other’s insistence again.
his hands find the demon’s hips, before one of them climbs beneath the shirt entirely. despite his own embarrassment at the dirty way shinjou treats him in front of strangers ( he sees the way the men look at him as if he’s a toy ), a low noise reverberates from his lips at the demon grinds against him. the moan is part act, part truth -- and relief comes when the men finally leave.
“ you deal in human trafficking . . . ? ” ciro asks almost breathlessly. a frown lines his expression, and dims whatever excitement he feels at the suggestive touches against his flesh. his hands slide further down to first touch, and then grab shinjou’s thighs and pull him a little closer. he tries to nuzzle the demon’ jaw to continue his game, yet another question slips free, “ why do you do this? you’re an angel too, aren’t you? ”
