It was dark out, and while the city below was a riot of color and noise, the luxury apartments on the hillside overlooking the ocean and bright lights below were mostly quiet.
All except one.
Music and light erupted from the windows of the penthouse, indicating a party of massive proportions. One would think everyone would be having a great time at such an excellent location with good food, drink and music, but there was someone who was standing off to the side, alone.
The woman sighed, running a hand through her dark purple hair and tucking the lock tickling her neck along one cheek back into the main mass.
A man dressed in a shiny gold suit walked by and waved at her cheerfully. "Hey, Cheshire! Havin' fun?"
Elly Sketchit - a.k.a Cheshire, a popular singer that had what blue collar workers would call "everything" -- was <i>not</i> having fun. She smiled back, her cat's ears flicking as she faked enjoyment for what seemed like the thousandth time since her meteoric rise to fame a couple years ago.
This party was predictable. Predictable and boring.
So, so fucking <i>boring</i>.
An after party was just that, as well - a bash following one of her concerts, and, as the owner of the home she had to be here for this one. She'd normally ditch after a few minutes but there was no way she could escape this time.
She hated after parties; despised the people trying to fawn over her, so desperate to not look like <i>fans</i>. As Cheshire, though, she had to play as nice as possible for publicity's sake. No one here cared that she had just drained her every ounce of strength on stage singing a half an hour ago, the stage lighting causing her to sweat harder than any workout and her abdominal muscles twitching from strict breathing control.
Fuck these fake people <i>Cheshire</i> had to act like she cared about. She wished she was back to being Elly Sketchit again. She just wanted to shower, flop onto her couch and eat an entire box of jerky sticks before falling blissfully asleep.
Her ears flicked in annoyance as she scanned the room, looking for any distraction. Her eyes lingered on the bar once again, but she knew in her state alcohol would just cause her to pass out right here.
<i>I could just get some fruit juice,</i> she thought tiredly, and began making her way over. When she got there the bartender turned around and she saw him for the first time.
He was dressed in a simple black, tight-fitting vest and pants with a red patterned bowtie. Nothing fancy - it was a typical bartender look, really, for these types of things. He wore a smartwatch made up to look like a gold timepiece on one wrist and his wealth of dark hair was pulled back, showing a tiny golden cuff on one ear to match. His face was oddly scruffy, a stubbling of hair on his upper lip, cheeks and chin that looked effortlessly attractive.
Elly found herself waking up. The man's eyes were charcoal gray and seemed to smolder with an inner fire as he met her own calmly. She raised her eyebrows, liking the look more than the simpering she received from most people in general.
"What would you like?" His voice was even better, a rich, low baritone only slightly marred by the fact that he sounded irritated.
"I'm looking for something non-alcoholic to perk me up," she said softly with a little smile. "Any ideas?"
For a moment he appeared incredulous - <i>a celebrity that didn't drink, especially one with a fully stocked bar?</i> -- but smoothly mixed together a few ingredients, the bottles clinking musically together with purpose. A tall glass filled with bubbly, dark soda and a cherry garnish was handed over. Elly took it from him, letting her fingertips touch his briefly before bringing it to her lips.
Her smile only grew as she sipped. "I feel like a kid again," she chuckled. "A Roy Rogers. This is perfect, I love cherries." Her gaze lingered on his mouth as she spoke, wondering what it would be like to kiss him or how those lips would feel sucking on her neck.
Elly decided she was definitely getting laid tonight.
"I'm glad you like it." He nodded, the corners of his lips quirking up in a small smile.
"Are you free after the party?"
The man checked the levels in his bottles and general bar area before nodding once, as if to himself more than her. "I have to clean up, but it shouldn't take long."
"Do bartenders drink after they work?" She moved aside as someone came staggering up to order, waiting while they were served. Thankfully, everyone was pretty inebriated by now and no one was asking after her. She didn't blame them; by this time it was well known she would have slipped away the first chance she got. This time, however, she thought she would stick around.
"We do," he said quietly, his eyes meeting her own and causing her tail to puff out ever so slightly.
"I may not want something now, but you could help yourself after the guests leave. Maybe you could stay here and we could relax." Her tail twitching with interest, she leaned over to offer him a view of her rather modest cleavage in the tank top she was wearing. For once she wished she had worn a racier top, but it wasn't really her style.
Elly jerked upright when he snickered, startled at such an unpleasant reaction.
"That usually works for you, doesn't it? Just asking anyone like that. God, you're even more smug than I thought."
Her jaw dropped. "What the hell?!"
"You never asked my name," he pointed out. "Doesn't matter, does it?"
"I - you ...well, fine," she snarled, anger finally bursting through her so violently she saw spots. She slammed her glass down on the bar, her eyes narrowed. "You don't have to accept, but you also don't have to be a dick about it."
"I'm not a very good bartender," he admitted with a low chuckle. "But I'm a better pickup artist than you are. I'll admit I'm also not a celebrity, so I'm not accustomed to getting whatever I want, but I'd have asked someone's name before asking them for a one-night stand."
A few people were staring, noticing the tension between them and her raising volume. Elly's ears laid back and she hissed, "Fine, asshole! What's your name?"
"Aizawa Shota," he replied simply.
She froze.
<i>Oh, no. No, this had to be a terrible nightmare.</i>
Aizawa?
He was the reason she had, more than once, thrown her cell phone across the room and broken it. In the world today, reporters needed to have a better story than anyone else's or there was a very real chance it would get lost in the mess of the internet. He was the newest reporter to rise to the top, writing for a prominent art and music website. In order to get sensational stories, he liked to antagonize celebrities with tweets and otherwise on social media, riling them up. Sometimes he would criticize their lifestyle and work until they agreed to a private interview to clear the air. Elly steadfastly refused to rise to his bait online, being one of the very few he hadn't cracked yet.
And she wasn't about to now.
"So you're faking a profession in order to get close enough to get info for an article." She tossed her head, lips thinning as she glared at him. "This is a new low, Aizawa. Even for you."
"You're not exactly the type to give interviews," he pointed out. "I tried what I could."
"You trashed all my best pieces!" She hissed at him, keeping her voice low. "You bastard! You didn't even give any of them a chance!"
"I give honest reviews," he snorted. "You can't handle it."
"I fucking hate you!"
"Oh? You sure sounded like you wanted to fuck a minute ago." He paused then, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I'll admit, I wasn't expecting you to try and get me into bed. That would certainly make an interesting article."
"Even <i>you</i> wouldn't write about something so vulgar as sleeping with someone."
"Want to test that theory?" His fingers began snapping off his bowtie with rough, quick movements. "While you were screeching at me, the party left for the other venue. We're alone."
Her head jerked around, startled. It was true; the music was still playing, bass reverberating through the room and lights on, but no one was there. She hurriedly grabbed a remote and turned the sound system off with a sigh of relief.
"Well?" His voice spoke close to her ear, and she jumped again. Aizawa had snuck up behind her and as she turned around he placed his hands on either side of the wall, pinning her in place with a wicked smirk.
She slapped him hard enough to leave a momentary print of her palm on his cheek. His head rocked back with the force of her blow. "Don't try that agressive crap on me, you bastard."
Aizawa slowly rubbed his stubbled jaw, eyes burning into hers. His creepy grin only increased in intensity and he didn't back away, instead choosing to grasp the opposite side of her face and kiss her as hard as she'd slapped him. She grasped a fistful of his vest, tugging on the silk as they met with tongue and teeth. His scruff rasped on her skin, and though his actions were rough his lips were soft. When she raised a leg to wrap around him, however, he bucked it off with a chuckle and stopped kissing her, rubbing a thumb on her lips in lieu of his own.
"Fuck, you're a tease," she hissed.
"That suggests you want more than this," he whispered in her ear. "Do you want more?"
Elly bared her teeth, flashing her sharp canines at him in a little grimace. Her hands ran roughly down his back to his ass. She squeezed hard, and he emitted a low gasp against her neck. Elly smirked and raised a knee between his legs, rubbing at his crotch and causing him to growl under his breath.
"Sure sounds like <i>you</i> want <i>more</i>," she gloated, her hands running up his back again to tug ruthlessly at his ponytail. "Had some fantasies of screwing a star, did we baby?"
Aizawa bit her on the neck. "Shut up," he grunted. "I don't have sex based on popularity. And if you <i>ever</i> call me that again, I'll make sure everyone knows you hit on me."
"And risk them knowing the rest? You're not gonna look so great after the public thinks you used me."
He sucked harder on her neck in reply, leaving a mess of bruises and teeth marks that left her panting and writhing.
"You look pretty nice all fucked up with my marks on you." Aizawa leaned over and nipped at her ear, whispering hoarsely into it. "You're one of the country's most popular singers, Cheshire, but I wonder how much better you'll sound when I'm pounding into you."
"<i>I</i> wonder if you ever shut up," she sniffed, catching the back of his head in her hands and dragging him into a kiss. He bared his teeth, nipping at her lower lip before their mouths met in another noisy, wet clash, tongues warring for dominance. After awhile, Elly found herself grabbing restlessly at his shoulders, moaning while he kissed her just right. When she was still for a moment he deepened his kisses outrageously, mouthing her lips in a way that had her bucking on his body below.
"Where?" His voice was low and rough, panted hotly between her lips. His hand had rucked up her tank and bra, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze.
She pointed to a couch nearby, flanked with a couple if Asian screens to give it an illusion of privacy in the large room.
"Really?"
"Bedroom's too far," she groaned as he ruthlessly bit her left nipple.
"Mm hmm." He picked her up and she kicked in his arms.
"Sh - shit! I can walk, you idiot!"
"Can you?" He swiped a few empty cups off before dumping her on the couch. Aizawa popped his vest open, shucking it carelessly onto the floor. His dress shirt was next as he maintained eye contact with her the entire time. "'Cause you're frozen right now, <i>Ches</i>. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
Elly huffed with irritation. "Clever," she said drily. "Do you write all your own material, Mr. Bigshot Reporter?"
"It's all me," he told her in an insinuating tone, low and rich and sexy. Aizawa hooked his thumbs in his belt and dragged down enough for her to see his pelvic bones jutting out slightly. A trail of dark hair wound its way from between his rather surprisingly sculpted chest and abdomen down into those dress slacks. "Lose the top," he suggested, "I want to see if I can really tell if your own... well endowed <i>attributes</i> are real."
She spluttered and nearly ripped off her tank and bra. "You...! I've never had work done! I don't believe in that!" Her pale breasts bobbed as she gestured madly about.
"I can see that now," he said so quietly she could barely hear. This mollified her somewhat, and she sank back down onto the cushions. His appreciative stare calmed her even more, and Elly stretched languidly, eyes half-lidded as she watched him take in her upper body. His eyes burned with fervor as he looked down at her.
"You like what you see?"
"You're regularly featured in magazines and websites," he said sourly. "Your concerts have been selling out and record sales are through the roof. Don't others tell you every single day how attractive you are? Affection of the general public not enough for you?"
Elly tossed her head. "It's never enough." Although what she really was thinking was that most of her praise came from artificial means. The public wasn't someone telling her to her face, and oddly enough she trusted him more. If one of her harshest critics told her he thought she was beautiful, she might just believe him.
Maybe.
"You're a spoiled brat."
Her lips thinned in anger, and her nails dug into his back, scraping in and dragging a few inches. Instead of complaining, his breath hitched sharply, his throat working as he threw his head back. Locks of sweat-damp hair framed his face, sticking to his neck and cheeks, which were red as well as the bridge of his nose. His chest started to get splotchy, too, and she watched with interest as she lashed her striped tail on the backs of his legs.
"You're a body blusher? That's kind of hot."
He shot her a withering look. "Of course I'm hot. I'm sweating, aren't I?"
This made her break out into a genuine laugh, something that both amazed and shocked her. He was pretty cute when he got too serious. "I mean <i>this</i>, babe," she purred, hands coming around to trail more gently over the reddened skin on his chest. "You blush all over. Or ...I wonder. Is it <i>all</i> over?"
"Strip me," he commanded, grabbing her hands and placing them on his belt. "Take off my pants and see for yourself."
"Big man," she sneered at his ordering her around.
"You have no idea," he snickered with a wicked grin. "But if you're curious, you'd better get to work."
"Damn," she sighed wistfully. "You're a lucky man. But I <i>also</i> remember that curiosity killed the cat." Her hands unlatched the belt and popped the buttons open.
Aizawa arched his back as she unzipped and tugged his pants down. "The other half of that saying isn't well known. You want to hear it?" He kicked the slacks off, nude now except for a pair of maroon boxer briefs that were stretched tightly across the front. Aizawa leaned over her, pressing his body down and grinding his lower half on hers. "It's '<i>but satisfaction brought her back</i>'. You want that satisfaction from me, don't you, Ches?"
She groaned when he rubbed up on her, reaching around to clutch his rear like before. "Satisfaction is a strong word. Let's see if you can live up to it."
His answer was a mind-numbing soul kiss, so powerful that her lips felt swollen after they parted. Aizawa's hands easily removed her jeans and then hovered over her thin slip of panties, relishing the moment. "And let's see how much you want me."
"Careful," she snapped when he moved to take them off. "Don't touch my tail. Let me do it."
Her tone warned him not to push his luck. Though she had been fighting back every step of the way it had been exciting. Fun, even. This was neither of those. She was genuinely concerned, and she moved quickly to unfasten the velcro that kept the underwear in place around the striped fur sticking out of her lower back. When she nodded, he placed his hand on the front of the thin fabric and dragged them off, revealing a neatly trimmed batch of bristling purple hair.
"You don't wax? I thought that was big in the celebrity scene." He stroked once, then slipped a finger inside her, hissing at the moist heat.
Elly squirmed around while he curled his finger, probing for the right spot. "Would you do that? Imagine it growing back in." She shuddered, then moaned as he found what he was looking for.
Aizawa added another finger, then another. His movements were quick and sure, squelching sounds the only accompaniment to her bitten off cries. "You holding out on me? Don't try and be quiet, I can see how good it feels."
"It's ...fine," she panted, her eyes dark as she stared up at him. "I hope you can do better."
"I think it's time for me to force a few screams out of you." He peeled his tight briefs off, his penis bouncing free to curl up towards his belly.
Elly pounced, her hands gripping him just the right side of tight and stroking, getting a feel of his erect member and rubbing under the plump tip.
"Aaahhh, fuck, you know how to handle that cock," he husked, jerking back and into her hold to fuck her hand. "<i>Fuck</i>!"
"Not yet," she muttered.
"You have condoms?"
She raised an eyebrow at this, certain as she had been he was going to fight her on the subject. "Yeah, I forgot. Let me up, I'll go get one." She dropped him and got up to look. Aizawa watched until she disappeared down the hall. He listened to her swearing faintly as she rummaged through a drawer in what appeared to be the bathroom. She exclaimed softly after a few minutes and the light clicked off.
When she joined him again she had torn the packet open and was holding the contraceptive out. "Lay back, I've got this."
"You planning on riding my sorry ass in bed as well?"
Elly sighed gustily but said nothing, and it was all he could do to remain quiet as she slid the condom over him. She stroked once, from head to base, then smiled and gestured for him to move so she could lay down. He bit back a moan when she rose to meet him, wrapping her legs around him before he moved forward.
"Ahhh, shit," she murmured, closing her eyes.
"Y - you're hot," he choked, stunned the condom wasn't dulling the sensation as much as usual. "And tighter than I thought you would be -"
"Bastard," she panted, her hips chasing after his slow, teasing thrusts. "Tightness doesn't equal virginity, and I fucking resent your <i>insinuation</i> about my sexual activity."
"So then, you - ahh -- just wanted me that much, huh?"
"Shut up and <i>move</i>."
Aizawa obliged, and they were soon back into harsher loving, biting and clawing and swearing as they fought each other for pleasure while simultaneously giving back with their efforts. Their bellies slapped together, clapping in a quickening beat, and Aizawa knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He threw his shoulders back, straining as the pressure in his groin grew to a crushing, unbearable weight. Then he heard Elly cry out, more like a cat than human, and the pleasure exploded. He came with a violent shudder, spilling into the condom. Despite having come Aizawa still fucked her through her orgasm, gasping with oversensitivity but continuing to buck into her as she shuddered against him.
He grit his teeth as he pulled out, tying the full tube off and tossing it in one of the discarded cups from the party.
"<i>Fuck</i>," he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he tried to organize his thoughts.
"Just did that."
His mouth twitched, but he didn't smile. There she was, the woman that had caused him so many sleepless nights worrying about his reputation. He was supposed to interview her or at least get some information for anything - an article, a blurb, even a tweet. There she was, laying there nude, sweaty and properly fucked - his glorious work -- and he still didn't have anything.
Aizawa sighed and started pulling his clothes back on. Elly watched him sleepily from the couch where she had curled up and pulled a blanket down on top of her. "Leaving already?"
"I have work in the morning." He grunted as he bent over, digging through a pile of their discarded clothing for his bowtie. He fished it out and stared at it before thrusting it carelessly in his pants pocket. Aizawa rolled his eyes to stare at her in the most condescending manner. "Some of us work regular hours for our living."
She sniffed and rolled over. "Hit the red button on the door panel when you leave."
He shook his head at her attitude but agreed out loud. "Yeah." Right before he left, he leaned into the room one last time. "Thanks for the tip," he called out in a lazy tone.
She threw a cup at him.
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