This was familiar. This mental soup of lingering ecstacy and satisfactory subordination, she hadn’t always known it, but it was normal for her now. It wasn’t overly often that this would happen, all parties involved had things to do of course, but it was common enough that there was a sequence of events she was used to going through. As were they.
First, she would go to the club, that fateful club where she had made an impressive, if a bit unnecessary, show of force on the establishment’s security detail and owner in lieu of getting the information she needed. There, she would do some drinking, maybe a bit of dancing, or even, more recently, shoot some pool in that newly renovated nook beside the bar. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing one couldn’t find in most other nightclubs in cities like Vale. Great music though.
Then, the odd dance would begin. They would approach her, those bedeviling women, and they would flirt like they’d only met once or twice before and hit it off. They’d give her an opening line, she’d shoot something charming back and they’d go back and forth like that for a while. Then they’d invite her to the back, she’d push through the cool rush in her chest and say yes at an appropriate volume. They’d then escort her to the back, and she would positively relish the jealous looks she’d get from charmless men. Very few got the honor of meeting up with the twins in private regularly, save for Yang Xiao Long and one other.
Then they’d lead her to their room, lavishly furbished with leather furniture, modern art, and the most well-stuffed bed she’d ever been on. It was always just a little chilly in there; not cold enough for an additional layer, but you’d always be doing the little things to warm up ever so slightly. Things like crossing your arms, or being close to someone else. Part of their setup, no doubt. There, one of them would sit her on the couch and heap compliments on her while the other sat on an adjacent chair and methodically apply vibrant red lipstick. She’d catch her staring, she’d always catch her staring, and the other would know exactly when to stop talking and redden her own lips as Yang was caught in a suggestive gaze. They were frighteningly good at what they did.
Then, with gentle tugs, they’d pull her from the couch to the bed and begin the main event. They’d lean on either side of her and start with her cheeks. Gentle, lingering kisses that let her relish in the contact and warmth. They’d refresh the kiss-shaped stamp they had on her brain. They would work their way to her nose, and her forehead, and her temples, and her jaw, and her neck. Then they’d help her remove her jacket and scarf, she’d often already in a trance at that point. With only her tube top remaining on her torso, they’d kiss her neck, then her shoulders, then they’d let her slowly fall to the bed as they worked their way down her arms and to her hands.
At that point, they would ask her the question; how far would they go tonight? Yang would have to tell them, with a please. They never demanded one, never even asked for one, but she’d always say please. They’d always oblige her, if she asked for a full coat, they paint her red from head to toe. Sometimes, when she was in the mood, she’d ask for something along the lines of “the full package,” and they’d oblige her.
Finally, they’d be done, and she’d be speechless. It had been a long time since the first occurrence of this, but she would always be speechless, staring at the ceiling, and simply plastered in impressions of lips, residue of blissful kisses that would put her firmly on cloud nine, regardless of whether or not her pants stayed on. They’d leave to the adjoining bathroom and clean themselves up.
Recently, if they hadn’t gone all that far, another step would occasionally come up. She would, without cleaning herself up, pick herself off the bed and wobble her way to the bar. She would be too love-drunk to care about the bewildered stares she’d get from the jealous and the envious, and order herself a lite beer, or even a water. Something simple to revitalize her system. There, she’d be joined by the only one to be able to truly sympathize with her, the only one who could claim to be in her shoes more often than Yang herself.
Tonight was one of those nights, and Cody Baxter was that individual.
Cody was, in many ways, Yang’s polar opposite. A passive pacifist who never looked to instigate anything aside from chill vibes. He was a writer by trade, and wouldn’t consider himself charming. Which made it as baffling to him as it was to many others when the infamously seductive Malachite Twins rented out a space in the club for the guy and showered him with affection whenever they got the chance. The only one more often covered in lipstick from the twins than Yang was Cody.
Though tonight, he was clean and Yang was the recent target.
“Y’know,” he started “,we gotta stop meeting like this.”
“What,” she shot back, words slightly slurred “,you think you could hold up any better?”
They both chuckled like old war veterans, warmly recalling what others would consider nightmares.
“I take it this was your way of getting a ‘lightened sentence’ as it were?” he asked with a glance at the blonde.
“Yyyyyyou could say that I guess.” She took a swig of beer. “If what they did to my team was their version of going easy, I’d rather this,” she gestured to her marked self “,than whatever they were planning for an old vet like me.”
“Y’know, you say that,” he said, melancholy slowly entering his voice “,but I don’t think either of us handle them better now than when we got got for the first time.”
“Oum, the first time...”
-----------------------------
That club was so nice on her first visit, and cleaned up so nice the second, why not go again just for fun?
She was owed a drink, after all. Yang strutted into the club, the music was back, the patrons were back, and Junior was back. Back, too, were those twins who she never got to be properly introduced to.
With strawberry sunrise in hand, Yang took a seat between them at the bar. This place was worth being a regular at, best to ingratiate herself with the staff, especially the boss’s right hand girls.
But there was two of them so... right and left hand? Anyway.
“W’hey there!” she opened “So, I’m not so great at apologies, so how about I just buy you ladies a round?”
The two haughty women rolled their eyes and nodded in acquiescence.
Yang signaled to the bartender who promptly slid some fancy drinks to the twins, their favorites, Yang presumed.
“So, dunno if you’re cool enough with me for this, but would you mind if I got your names?”
A heavy pause followed.
“Melanie.”
“Miltiades.”
Yang was thoroughly surprised. She would’ve bet her bike that, no, they were not cool enough with her yet. Might as well strengthen her advantage then.
“Well, I gotta say, Melanie, Miltiades,” holy shit, did she just nail the red one’s name on the first try? “you girls are pretty damn good fighters.
Apparently, the praise was enough for the twins to deign her with their gazes instead of cold shoulders.
“I mean, most people have to fall back on their semblances when I go on the attack, but you two? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you guys didn’t even raise your aura when I hit you, did you?”
Another heavy silence.
“Knowledge is power,” Melanie said plainly.
“Uhhh... huh?”
“If we used our semblance for every punk with their head in their ass,” Miltiades clarified “,people could scout us for planned attacks.”
“Not that you’d know anything about that.” They scoffed in unison.
Ouch.
“W-well,” Yang tried to get back on balance “,I’ll be the first to tell you, I have a lot of muscles that might be the strongest,” she flexed her arms to drive the point home “,but my brain ain’t in the running!”
Self-deprecating humor, she didn’t use it often, but this seemed like a good time to bust it out. Some humility never hurt when trying to earn some forgiveness, right?
*chu*
Yang felt what happened, heard what happened, but her brain needed some time to process it. she looked to each of her biceps and found a red lipstick-imprint on each of them and a twin caressing an arm each.
Yang’s face lit up like a traffic light, but no words came out. Noises escaped her mouth for sure, but they were most definitely not words.
“You know, for as hot-headed as you are,” Melanie said, pausing to kiss Yang’s forearm “,you definitely have a charm about you.”
More noises, no words.
A soft hand cupped her cheek and turned her toward its owner; Miltiades, who had closed the distance and was inches away from her face.
“Y’know, you’re so cute, we can’t stay mad at you. How about we get away from the crowds so we can... get to know you better?”
There was a heavy silence.
Without taking her eyes off Miltiades, Yang picked up her strawberry sunrise, downed it in one go and croaked out “Sure.”
------------------------------
“Well if it isn’t our two favorite patrons!”
Melanie’s peppy arrival snapped Yang out of her recollection.
“Heyo, Mel,” Cody greeted the twin “,to what do we owe the honor?”
“Just a quick bit of correspondence we would like our blonde friend to deliver.”
Curious, Yang turned to the pair fully to find Miltiades holding out a business card. She took it, read it, and her eyes widened.
“Uhh... girls?” she said with trepidation in her voice “,I don’t wanna tell you how to go about your business, but this... this might not be the best idea.”
“Yang, for real, we appreciate the concern,” Miltiades said with uncharacteristic bluntness given their recent escapades “,but we’ve done our research. Trust us, we’ve planned this one out thoroughly. We know what we’re doing.”
“If you say so.” Yang looked down at the lipstick-stained card. “Better brace yourself, vomit-boy.”
