The Jade Palace (part II)
(slightly piecemeal because I've worked a bit on it and I'm getting tired and I figured better to post this than nothing at all; please enjoy Zazu trying to deal with yet another big cat 😊)
Zazu clears his throat, trying not to stare, and is suddenly very grateful for the robe he’d been given. At least his attire didn’t have to consist solely of pants and wrapped wrists, although Tai Lung carries the look off rather well. Very well. And Zazu doesn’t have nearly the physique for-
He coughs, averting his eyes. “You’re… ah… you work with a co-worker of mine, don’t you? Tall, dark-haired, has a scar over his left eye?”
“I can assure you the same privacy that I extend to all my other clients,” Tai Lung says smoothly. He grins, tapping his lower lip. “Unless… the client specifically tells me otherwise. Regards from your vice president, by the way.”
“Figures,” Zazu mumbles. He tries not to fidget under that grin. “Well, you can tell him back that I say to mind his own business.”
“I’m a masseuse, Zazu, not a messenger.”
It's… dark. The room seems to be comprised entirely of black stone, giving the impression of a deep pit. Several candles are set around the ledges, each glowing with a blue flame, alongside some little bottles of oil and some other things that, if they’re for massage purposes, Zazu dearly hopes will have nothing to do with today’s session. An enormous slab of rock sits in the center.
Tai Lung gestures Zazu toward the rock slab. “Now, if I had to guess, you’re excellent at following orders-”
Zazu stiffens. “Who told you that? Did-”
“Sh-sh-shhh. Shhhh.” Two fingers land, feather-light, on the nape of his neck. “No one told me anything. Nobody needed to. It’s all in your back and shoulders. Now, I have just one thing I’d like you to do for me.”
“Let me guess,” Zazu says sarcastically, fighting not to raise his head. “Relax?”
A low chuckle. “Zazu, if you could relax yourself on command, you’d hardly be here now, would you?”
“Precisely. Now, all I need you to do for me is-” Tai Lung stops near one of the rock ledges lining the wall, where a few of the blue-flamed candles are flickering- “don't fight it.”
And with one sharp exhale, he blows all the fire out.
Zazu has to be helped onto the rock table.
It's… warm, which he didn't expect, and… padded. Well.
He tries to arrange himself, facedown, as best he can, and feels like a complete imbecile.
“Good.” A hand comes to land lightly on his shoulder, adjusting his arm. “Just like that.”
Zazu feels heat creeping into his cheeks.
“Now… just leave it all to me.”
Zazu’s certain that he’s doing a terrible job at being massaged, if that’s even possible.
He’s not sure exactly what he’s supposed to do, but he’s pretty sure he’s not meant to be trying to predict the next motions of those hands and bracing himself in all the wrong places for absolutely no reason whatsoever.
He wants to explain, defend himself, but his mouth doesn’t seem to be connected to his brain anymore, and that’s always dangerous, considering what might fall out if he doesn’t keep his lips shut tight, and ohh-o-oh-
“That’s it,” Tai Lung murmurs. “Good.”
-oh this is not good. Too good. Very bad.
His mind is melting faster than his back and shoulders.
Nothing is hurried, no movement is sudden or sharp, just an effortless rolling from one place to the next, doubling back in no pattern that Zazu can recognize, and thumbs along either side of his spine back and forth, up, down, long smooth presses over his shoulder blades what in the oh stars ohhh wafting fragrance soft circles at the base of his neck this is all this is soohhhh-
“You’re doing very well.”
A pitifully soft whimper slips past Zazu’s lips and he can’t even bring himself to gliding and shifting palms pressing into muscles that Zazu can’t name and they just give under those hands, just liquify like they’d been waiting tohhhhh-
“Perfect. Just like that.”
It’s technique, Zazu knows, nothing but technique and raw power and pressure points and any more force and he’ll break and he could break me, oh g-
“Take a breath, keep breathing now…”
And Zazu could swear his vision blurs, actually blurs as Tai Lung presses into the space just beneath his skull and he can almost hear the oil’s soft fragrance curling like smoke and permeating his skin even though he knows that’s- no, he doesn’t kn- all Zazu knows is an endless warmth and pressure and praise and hands and-
“All right so far, Zazu?”
Mouth. Noise. Replying. Zazu’s mouth moves; no sound emerges.
“Zazu?” Tai Lung prompts again, patiently.
His own voice startles him a little.
“Good. Very good. Especially for a first time. I’m going to turn you over now; don’t do anything, just let me…”
Gentle force from even gentler fingertips against his face, his neck, sliding down his collarbone.
Zazu doesn’t remember very much after that.
