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Applause and the lap of luxury, the taste of wealth on tip of his tongue.
Tristan pulls his lovely partners towards him, proud and confident. Everything they're wearing, from the color of their mascara to the shoes on their feet, handpicked by him.
This is the life. Both of them at his side, a romantic lighting, a dead body in the basement, it's going to be a perfect evening.
"I missed you."
Daniel slides their fingers into his sleeve, light touches sending a warmth throughout his body.
Tristan bites his lip and pecks their cheek.
No no, don't get too excited.
"Let's do it."
"Now?" Tristan nearly chokes on his champagne. Jennifer is nowhere to be seen, where had she run off to? She was just here a minute ago.
"The dance got me worked up." Daniel tugs his sleeve.
"There's a vacant room upstairs, come." Jennifer enjoys a glass of wine, a content smile on her red lips.
Ah, to hell with it.
Tristan pulls the two of them aside and leads them to a room. The door closes with a soft click and he's pressed onto the wall. He tosses his clothes off. A pool of fabric makes a mess on the floor.
As Daniel takes off Jennifers dangling earrings, Tristan gently pulls her zipper down and folds her gown neatly. The last time he just threw her clothes around, she scolded him. She slips off her heels with ease.
Thick, dark hair in a neat bun. Bright, vibrant red lips with dark eyeliner to match. Nothing too over the top, her charm is alluring enough. A lovely woman in a lovely dress. Perfect, if anyone would ask him.
Tristan slides Jennifer in-between. Tristan pauses, his eyes grazing on his lovers' body. The way light bounces off their skin, how every touch sends tingles down his spine. She rubs his piercings in-between her fingers.
All he can focus on is the soft, tender embrace and the scent of their cologne. She licks his neck and plants a kiss on their cheek. Tristan runs his fingers through her hair, trailing downwards. Tristan traces her chest, pulling them closer as their hips touch.
"Not so fast."
Tristans eyes widen. Daniel smirks and tugs his waistband. A warmth spreads throughout his body, as if candle wax is pouring on him as pressure builds up in his crotch. Tristan looks away, covering his face.
"Are you alright?"
Her hands hold him tenderly. Tristan swallows, taking in a deep breath. A lamp on the beside falls onto the carpet, rolling around.
"I'm okay." He said.
She smiles, and he takes his sweet time in pulling off Daniel's tie. They drape it over her eyes.
A blindfold? Shit, he's not going to last very long.
The relationship he shares between his partners is companionship with the bonus of expressing love in a sensual manner. Nothing more, nothing less.
The three of them benefit from this agreement, satisfying their power-hungry relatives, having some protection and having a good time. Two birds with one stone.
This love isn't meant to last. He only hopes that in the end, they'll think of him fondly.
The sounds coming out of him are shameful, but he's too stimulated to care. He digs his hands into their back as she flips the setting to max.
His body shakes as he cries out, holding onto the desk for dear life.
"Don't," He whines, the pressure becoming unbearable. "Don't stop." He breathes out.
His legs quiver as her hand reaches down. Eager for a taste, he touches her slowly. He bends down and she pulls out a toy.
He had chosen two people, a woman from a prominent family, Jennifer Smith and a dashing bachelor, Daniel Lee. Both know each other quite well, putting on a display of competitiveness to earn his favor. At first, it was fun watching them bicker around.
Why? Well, why not?
The earphone in his ear comes to life, static noise and a voice.
Presenting cockblocker of the century, Stephen.
Hearing his tired, annoyed voice through a tiny piece of technology is foreign. All to remind about the stupid task. He needs ample time to admire his lovers and their touch.
He ignores his stuffy relative, focused on a priority. The taste of soft, silky flesh fills his mouth and he holds her steady. Her legs shake as her toes curl, soft gasps slipping out of her mouth. Tristan spreads her legs apart, going faster.
"Tristan!"
Jennifer's body trembles as she digs her nails into Daniel's arms, holding her. Her chest rises and falls and Tristan trails light kisses on her hips, leaving a mark on her inner thigh.
"Are you alright?" Daniel moves her hair out of her face.
"Yeah. I.. I'm going to need a towel." She shrinks her shoulders, burying her face into Tristan's chest. He plants a kiss on her head.
"You did great."
"Shut up!" Jennifer slaps his arm, her ears as red as her dress. She picks at her fingers, staring at the floor.
The three of them change position and Jennifer reclines on the mattress, embracing Daniel from behind. She teases them, whispering sweet nothings into their ears.
"You like that, you dirty pig?" She whispers. Daniel's face flushes and they bite their lip. Tristan massages their breasts, their stomach, their thighs. Touching everywhere except their eager member on purpose.
A warmth touches Tristan's tongue, reaching the back of his throat. Moans slip out Daniels mouth as their body shakes, arching their back and squeezing their eyes shut.
Tristan reaches for his hand, holding it firm.
They nearly killed one another the first time they met and now, they can't even keep their hands to themselves. They bring life wherever they go.
No matter how many times he'd see them, Tristan would stare in silent awe.
A sweet-looking face with a voice as deep as the ocean. A jawline softer than grandmothers delicacies and style almost better than his. Big brown eyes that glimmers like gold in the sun. The feeling of safety and home.
As if this is a dream, too good to be true. In a sense, it is. With Tristan's current position in his so-called work, this day could be his last.
Each moment spent like this would turn into a memory, the inevitable end of a relationship.
He was given an invite to the auction by the host after some negotiating. A gun to the head with wine on the side. Tristan can be rather convincing when he needs to be.
Money is a universal language he is fluent in.
"Tristan, please. Enough," Daniel groans, grabbing his blonde hair to pull it back. Eager today? Lovely.
"What are you going to do?"
Daniel untangles their hands from his hair. Once Tristan feels light touches on his neck, he's on the move again.
Will he beg with tears on his face?
He straddles their lap and presses himself into them. Tristan whips out a packet, effortlessly tears it with his teeth and puts it on in no time. Protection, as always. He goes in them without warning, the room now filled with breaths and moans.
Tristan glances up, his hips matching their movements. He closes his eyes, feeling a buildup of warmth in the pit of his stomach. It comes to a slow halt and Daniel groans in between moans. When his eyes adjust to the light, they're glancing at him with half-lidded eyes.
Tristan swallows, unwilling to stop.
A vibrating cellphone interrupts his thoughts and he tosses it to the floor. Daniel looks at him with bedroom eyes while nuzzling his cheek on him, hard and throbbing. Then he eats him up, his lips starting on the tip. Their tongue encircles him.
Daniel doesn't stop until it reaches their throat, pulling away and going back down.
His body twitches as his back arches, shaky moans escaping his mouth. The heat travels throughout his body, sensitive to each touch.
His watch screen lights up, showing the caller ID. Ah, forgot about this one. Tristan rips it off, checking it.
"You're a pain in the ass, cousin." Stephen sighed through the gadget. Tristan chuckles, hiding his laughter.
Oh, if only he knew.
His dear cousin wouldn't agree with what he's doing. Typical stick to norms of society and all that crap. The look of disgust on his face burns into his memory, summoning a fury he didn't know existed.
Tristan bites his tongue, drawing blood as his body twitches. He doesn't look up but Daniel tosses a blanket over the three of them.
There's a subtle blush on their cheeks as they put their clothes back on. Tristan walks out of the room with his partners with a proud smile, as if he had too much to drink.
"Tristan!" Stephen yells.
"Oh, you're still there?"
Daniel snorts and Jennifer grins. Champagne, wine and all sorts of food on display.
Cheese? Please let there be cheese.
There are pairs walking around with fake gestures and overbearing expressions. All to gain more wealth than they already have.
As luxurious and extravagant it may seem, to Tristan it's sickening. All this wealth on display just to show off for the sake of doing so. Rather than giving what they have too much of, these people hoard it for themselves and laugh at those below them.
Despicable.
Gold glitters, but not everything that glitters is gold.
Tristan engages in pointless, idle talk with other attendees. He weasels in a snack from time to time, a bite-sized tiramisu and creamy, thick cheese he doesn't know the name of. All while making sure to present his partners, much to the dismay of many.
Jealous crowd, hm?
"Couldn't you have just brought one woman?"
As if it's his fault, the Tristan Pierce, some random atendee has no bitches. Tristan rolls his eyes at the comment.
Jennifer steps on his foot and he kneels. Why is he getting kicked!? It may seem comical, having two partners much taller than him. He barely reaches their shoulders, even with thick soles. But it's like he is on top of the world.
"As I've said before, I enjoy the company of both. Is there a problem?" He smiled. Not hearing any reply, he gives a curt nod and walks away. A familiar faces in the crowd makes him pause, his blood run cold.
"Cousin, change of plans."
Tristan readjusts his collar and looks up. His two partners exchange a look and walk out. Once he catches sight of them outside, safely away from the building, he slams the fire alarm.
About time.
Sirens followed by an alarm go off. The lights flicker and people are in a rush to get out. He's now soaked to the bone, walking around. The area is now empty, aside the now ruined display and sad-looking chandelier. Tristan takes off his suit, revealing weapons he keeps hidden. His trusty twin pistols and an extra knife for emergencies.
"It's you."
"Unfortunately." Tristan replies, running his hand through his hair. Finally, no need to wear thick hair gel.
"Come back with me."
Tristan picks up a glass, now overflowing with water rather than champagne. The food on display earlier is now ruined and the chandelier looks eerie. Why is he here again?
"Are you even listening?" Santiago said.
A pair of green eyes and dark, curly hair. The voice he thought he'd never hear again and the boring sense of style.
The boy he fell in love with years ago.
Tristan cracks a smile and tosses the glass.
"Yeah, it just takes a while to process so much stupid at once. Give me a minute." Tristan said.
Santiago shoves him onto the table by the neck, earning a laugh from him. Ah, brings back old memories. Tristan breaks free from his hold and holds his chin delicately, tracing soft, pale lips with the tips of his fingers. Tempting, but not quite.
With the sprinklers, his white button down is now see-through. Fortunately, the water is cold enough to keep the blush not so noticeable. Santiago could easily take his gun and plant a bullet in his head and he'd just stare at him.
What's he going to do, shoot? Santiago doesn't have the guts for that.
The same one he had fond memories of. They flash before his eyes, crumbling and turning into dark stained nightmares.
"You clearly haven't changed." Santiago slaps his hand away.
There goes plan A.
Tristan whips out his knife and stabs Santiago's arm. A quick punch to the jaw and he's on the ground, clutching his wound.
"When we play, you're no fun." Tristan comments, shaking his head with disapproval. Here he thought he would put up a fight.
"What do you want?" Santiago asked, about to reach for the knife. Not the best idea.
"Me? Nothing. My role is to entertain you." He said.
"Tristan get out of there!" Stephen yells via gadget. He rips it out and destroys it with the sole of his shoe. The sight of red fabric and an alarm.
The signal? Already? Damn, barely had any fun.
"Anyway, I'm off. I want my knife back the next time we meet." Tristan shoots the camera in the corner, taking an unopened pack of candy from the table.
"Tristan," Santiago pauses. Blood drips down his arm, painting his clothes a dark red. "Come back to me. Please."
The expression on his face confused him. It couldn't just be the knife, but the past is in the past. No point in going back to something that doesn't exist anymore.
"You need to move on, Santiago." He replies, popping a treat in his mouth.
The mysterious disappearances of their men and accounts that don't add up are why he's even here. Now that his dear cousin has found an answer, there's no need to put up with this anymore.
Though, there's the nostalgia of missing simpler times.
"Tristan!"
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