Hi I haven't stopped thinking about this art by @ghostengarden
Eddie thought he knew what he was signing up for when he'd hired Steve to dance at the Hellfire Club.
The tinge of attitude and little bit of sass-mouthing hadn't really been a red flag, especially not on someone as self-assured as Steve. The Omega knew how hot he was, and Eddie knew that the sexy, entitled brat schtick would pull a good amount of clientele.
He'd been right about that, and everything had been going exactly as Eddie expected— until Steve started turning that attitude onto Eddie himself. It was like he knew all of Eddie's buttons, knew exactly which ones to press to get the Alpha frustrated, to have him heated and wanting.
It didn't take long for Eddie to snap, something Steve seemed to revel in. Quickly after that, he pulled Steve from performing entirely.
Now Eddie sits at a VIP table, chatting with a few men who reached out, expressing their desire to invest in Eddie's side business. An Omega waitress sets a tray of drinks on the table, and Eddie thanks her as the three men openly ogle her.
He gets it, even if he's not interested— after all, the black bodysuits were chosen specifically to accentuate their servers' figures, to entice clients and encourage them to tip better.
"Your employees are very pretty, Mr. Munson. I would almost say moreso than other establishments we've visited," one of them says, and Eddie smiles as he takes a glass.
"The pretty ones want to work here because they know we take care of them. We keep them safe, make sure they're comfortable."
"That one must be your crowning jewel," the ringleader, an Alpha named Creel, says as he gestures over Eddie's shoulder. "Will he be dancing later?"
Eddie glances behind him and spots Steve leaning against the bar, chatting with the bartender. He's wearing a bodysuit similar to the waitress, but in a soft baby pink. The ruffled bustle attached to his backside and feather adorned on his head are eye-catching, pulling the attention of the people around him— attention that Steve lives for, that Eddie only puts up with because he knows that Steve is his.
"Oh, no," he replies as he faces forward again. "Steve doesn't dance."
Creel looks amused, and says "Oh, come on. Why not? I'm sure plenty of people would pay handsomely to see him up there, myself included."
Eddie bites back a retort and simply calls out a "Stevie!"
Moments later, a hand settles on his shoulder and Eddie grabs it, tugging him closer. He can pinpoint the exact moment Creel spots the mating mark on Steve's neck, and resists the urge to puff up in pride over his mate.
"Sweetheart, will you tell Mr. Creel why you don't dance anymore?"
Steve smiles sweetly as he leans into Eddie's side, their fingers lacing together. "Because my Alpha is a jealous bastard who can't stand me being on display like that."
"Mhmm. And what is your job now, baby?"
The smile shifts into a sharp grin as Steve flashes his little Omegan fangs. "I walk around, look pretty, and make sure people keep their grabby hands off the staff."
"And you're so good at it," Eddie says as he presses a kiss to the back of Steve's hand. "You can go back now, sweetheart. Sorry for bothering you."
Steve giggles and says "I don't mind, Alpha," before he's turning away, hand slipping from Eddie's as he goes back into the crowd. The ruffled monstrosity on his backside bounces with every movement, and Eddie smiles, knowing how happy the frilly thing makes him.
"He certainly is something," Creel says, pulling Eddie's attention back to him. "I can see why you snatched him up."
"Steve is the love of my life," Eddie says with a tight, sharp smile, a statement and a warning that Creel must take, because he nods.
"Why don't we enjoy the show a little," one of the other men says, clearly sensing the rising tension, "then we can discuss our business."
Eddie takes the out and raises his glass in a mock toast. "Sounds good to me."
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