The lipstick he has on is as dark and red as the mark on his neck. He's looking at himself in the full body mirror provided in his quarters, touching the offending blotch of color with his forefinger. He pouts in disapproval. He hates when his customers leave anything on his body, but the man last night was Daimyō, and the owner of the whorehouse is a money crazed creep who has an unhealthy obession with having snakes as pets. He's slowly covering the spot with concealer when someone slides the door open.
"Sasuke-kun, I hope you're getting ready for your next client." The familiar voice makes his skin crawl. He looks at his 'owner's' reflection in the mirror before moving to apply eyeliner and eyeshadow.
"Yeah. Why don't you tell me who this client is?" Once he's done, he gently places the make-up brush on the vanity.
"Oh, you've met him before. He's back for some business and asked for you specifically." His smile was just as creepy as his whole being. Sasuke tried to appear nonchalant, but his mind was racing with all the possibilities of who it could be. He hated every single one of his clients, but since when did he have a choice? "I'll give you a hint. He pays extra just for me to allow him to bite you." At that, he leaves, sliding the door closed. Sasuke has to close his eyes and rein in his anger. You'd think after doing this for so long, he'd get used to it.
When his family was mercilessly slaughtered by his own brother, a high-ranking officer of the military, he was left to fend for himself at only seven years old. His brother went MIA soon after, and he was unfortunately moved to an orphanage where at eight years old, a few of them were picked up (more like bought off) by Orochimaru, the owner of one of the most prestigious whorehouses in the Red Light District of Konoha. To say he was terrified was a severe understatement. Having two adult military men have their way with you at that age was beyond traumatizing. He didn't even know sex worked like that. But now, at the ripe age of twenty-five, he's adjusted. Kind of.
Sasuke looks at himself in the mirror once more, taking in the sight. He looks just like his mother, only, she was refined and he's nothing but a glorified whore. He stands and adjusts his heavy kimono, a beautiful article made of the finest material, his obi of high quality silk. This particular one is off-shoulder and under the obi, the kimono parts just enough to show milky thighs, extending all the way to drag behind him when he walks. They leave no room for imagination, and Sasuke's learned to tolerate them. He heads down the stairs used only by the staff that leads to the lobby. The other courtesans bow as he passes by, but he pays them no mind. He stops right at the genkan and waits patiently for his customer.
Sasuke didn't have to wait long because the door slides open and a loud, drunk man enters with a friend of his. The raven recognizes him immediately.
"Oh, if it isn't my sweet winter bird, Sasuke! You look as beautiful as ever!" He walks over, albeit very wobbly, and takes Sasuke's hand to kiss it, a common gesture among people from Suna.
"Oooohhh, wow, he's gorgeous!" The other man pipes up, and Sasuke notes that he isn't being subtle about ogling his exposed legs. He tells himself that the satisfaction of kicking the guy in the nuts isn't worth the punishment.
"Right? He's even better in bed, too, I'm tellin' ya." They laugh and Orochimaru welcomes them with fake warmth.
"Welcome, gentlemen. Hanakusa-san. I'm glad we're able to serve you, again. As requested, you two will have Sasuke until six in the morning. No restrictions."
Sasuke freezes because he was not aware he was having two people at the same time. He didn't prepare for it, and 'no restrictions' was about as bad as it sounded. He doesn't show his surprise or his panic, instead, he puts on his small fake smile and gives a bow before leading the two soldiers to a private room. Once the door is slid closed, the Suna General is immediately behind him, hands rubbing his hips, nose on the area behind his ear. He feels the man take a deep whiff of his perfume and licks the column of his neck. The action disgusts him to no end, but he pushes back to him, moaning in a way he knows turns them on.
