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emotionalsupportbun-chan · 3 years

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dani sent me a text without punctuation, which i then interpreted as a very specific fic request

this became so much more than I thought it was going to be and *i guess* there’ll have to be more

so anyway here’s afab Zhao

nsfw, obv.

Almost, Almost. Kasuga said it was close. An empty building, still unsold, still draining a dead man’s bank account. It was technically squatting, but no one would think to look for them there and none of them could quite handle a bar right now.

They leaned on each other, stumbling down the narrow alleys of the Red Light district, the support both physical and emotional. Saeko shouldered more of Kasuga’s weight than Zhao had assumed she could. Themself and Joon-Gi embraced like drunkards on a dance floor, each a load-bearing wall to the other. Just focus. One step after another, one foot in front of the other, until the gaudy facade of an abandoned soapland came into view.

The door was unlocked. That should have been reason for concern, but “preoccupied” was an understatement. The interior was quiet nonetheless, air stagnant, dank from the lingering moisture of the establishment’s past. A layer of dust covered the front desk, the phone, the pictures of the smiling girls that still adorned the walls. The scattering of bubbly brunettes, headshots subtly retouched, greeted them in the absence of their late boss as the party silently trudged up the stairs, each one picking a room. Zhao went straight down to the end of the hall to a room they knew was still fully stocked with a variety of therapeutic oils and herbs. With the finish line in sight, each step became a battle of its own; each one highlighting a new ache, a yet undiscovered cut, a deep bruise. Their legs felt like jelly, like the bones could slide out onto the floor at any moment. After an eternity, they hit the threshold, not so much opening the door as letting the weight of their body fling it to the side. Inside, they found the room not entirely as expected.

“Oh…?” Surprise, disappointment, irritation. A great cacophony of feelings arose at the sight of another person in the room, and somehow they all fit neatly into that one word.

“Huh?” The figure rose from their crouched position in front of the sliding doors of the storage closet. It was a woman - inky black hair cut short, face unadorned by makeup aside from striking oxblood lipstick, athletic outfit both fashionable and utilitarian. “Fuckin’ hell, ya look like ya tried to fist-fight a wreckin’ ball.”

Ignoring the surprisingly accurate comment, Zhao tried to slip into the old Scary Gang Boss performance. They didn’t know who this woman was, but they were fairly certain she didn’t belong here. “Hey! You…” But the energy quickly faded, intensity falling from their voice. “Just get out.” They hoped that tone could carry the rest of the message as the words failed to come. I have a lot of questions, but no drive to ask them right now.

“I’m serious, ya got fucked up.” There was genuine concern in this stranger’s voice. “Come sit down before ya fall over an’ hit yer head ’r somethin’.” She approached, guiding Zhao to a rickety chair in the corner. “Didn’t mean to cause any problems, I thought this place was abandoned,” she said, resuming her search through some boxes stacked at the bottom of the closet.

Zhao sank into the seat and watched her, trying not to concentrate on the throb of torn muscle. More questions came and were dismissed, deemed not worth the effort of speech. They couldn’t help but notice how well her ass filled out her athletic leggings, though.

“Is that so?” They took a breath, gathering the will to continue the conversation-slash-interrogation. “Strange, I didn’t know Kansai thieves came in such pretty packages.” They wanted the comment to be something more aggressive, but the flirtation was instinct; the quip slipped out before they even thought to stop it. It was met with a sharp jab to the side by a single manicured nail.

“A comedian, huh? Very funny.” She upended another small box. “Damn…”

“But really, who are you? What are you doing here?” They let their voice go quiet and calm, an almost-threat, Serious Business Zhao. Great ass aside, an intruder was an intruder. And sure, they didn’t have the strength to put up much of a fight, if it came to that, but Quiet Menacing usually did the trick.

“I used to work here.” Another box, inspected and discarded. Finally, she fell back out of a squat, now sitting on the floor in a crab-like position, red faced with the effort of her frantic search. An errant strand of hair fell into her face and was blown away in a huff. She wore her frustration openly. It was cute as hell.

Oh, now you’ve done it. They tried to come out with something slick and witty. “Hi, ‘I used to work here’. I’m Zhao.” They threw a half-smile on for good measure. Nailed it.

That frustration gave way to something between second-hand embarrassment and disgust. “Really?”

She stood abruptly, gracefully. It seemed the athletic outfit wasn’t just for show. “As I was sayin’, I used to work here. Just got back in town and had to pick up some stuff I left behind. Looks like one of the other girls already got to it, though.” She paused, stretching. “Sucks about Nonomiya,” she added, the murder of her boss an afterthought.

With new found high ground, she looked down at Zhao, licked a thumb, and tried to smudge away a line of blood on their cheek. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“We, uh, wanted a bath.” They motioned toward the door, shifting uncomfortably through the strange woman’s fussing. “A friend of mine briefly worked for Nonomiya.”

“Huh.” She began to inspect their various cuts and contusions. “Ya know any first aid? This is gonna take more’n a Toughness to fix.”

“Not really.” Nothing more than the basics. Usually they’d just go see a Liumang doctor, but that wasn’t exactly an option anymore.

“Lemme fix ya up then, it’s the least I could do.” She chuckled to herself. “Ya looked like yer soul’d left yer body, seein’ me in here.” She turned and started the bath running, opening the jars and bottles that she’d pulled out of the closet. Zhao watched as she mixed a scoop of this or that into the rising water and popped open a still-sealed medical kit. She tore open and arranged packets of gauze and astringent pads as the bath filled, a mise-en-place that would satisfy even the pickiest nurse. She’d even produced a basic suturing kit. “Go on, get in! I’m doin’ ya a favor here.” She tugged at the collar of their jacket.

The transition to standing upright was not without pain. “Uh…” Sure, this might as well happen. “Yeah...ok, fine.” They carefully removed the leather jacket, the shorts, the shoes, folding them neatly and placing them on the chair Zhao had once occupied. Knowing my luck, I’d fall asleep and drown if I had to do it myself.

“Hurry up,” She waved a hand in their direction. “It’s not nothin’ I haven’t seen a million times before.” Unsatisfied with their pace, the woman began to rapidly, procedurally, unbutton Zhao’s shirt, deft fingers working more quickly than they’d assumed the nails would allow. “Oh!” She stopped about half way down as the shirt fell open to reveal the sturdy sports bra beneath it. “Sorry, guess I just assumed…”

“Don’t worry about it, easy mistake.” It wasn’t exactly a secret. Anyone who’d been in the Liumang long enough knew the old boss never had a son, but Zhao wasn’t going to stop any new blood from making convenient assumptions. They finished undressing themself as the woman stood in contemplation and slowly stepped into the bath, smiling at the stranger’s quiet nice. “If this changes anything…”

“Oh, no.” She settled onto a short stool behind Zhao’s back and rolled up the sleeves of her sweater. “If anything, my job just got easier. Don’t gotta worry about any wayward, uh, anatomy.” Her tone was cool, casual, but Zhao knew when their body was being appreciated. They had that effect on some people. Mostly girls. Men typically didn’t like someone they perceived as a woman having shoulders as broad and well-muscled as theirs.

Once they were settled, the stranger set to work. Whatever she mixed into the bath stung as it came into contact with the various cuts across Zhao’s body, but soothed sore muscles and joints better than any concoction they could have come up with. The initial inspection was thorough; the woman was unhesitant in picking up limbs and manipulating skin. She didn’t seem to find anything worth stitches - the few cuts that were a little more than just a scratch got spritzed with wound wash and treated with an antibiotic ointment. She rubbed some kind of cream over the larger bruises.

Once satisfied with the state of their wounds, she started working the shoulders and neck. First gentle, but firm, presses of knuckles to loosen the knots. Then she really set in, putting her full weight behind an elbow, working just under the base of their neck. It hurt at first, and Zhao almost called it quits, but after a minute or so the tension gave way and their legs - their whole body, for that matter - turned to jelly once again. They had a brief spike of worry - they were helpless under her hands; this would be a perfect opportunity for an assassin - but the thought left as quickly as it came as she moved lower down their back, pushing the heels of her hands into their spine and hitting each vertebra one by one. “Relax, relax. I’m not gonna hurt ya.” She must have felt the moment of tension. Zhao tried to respond, but the words that came devolved immediately into a low moan at the return of the elbow. No use; resistance was futile. They were putty.

Eventually - unfortunately - the massage ended. As the woman pulled her arms out of the water, Zhao could have sworn they felt the barely-there sensation of her fingers trailing the outline of the phoenix inked across their back. Before they could say anything, she leaned in, pressing the side of her face against theirs. “All better?” she said, lips grazing the bit of neck just below the ear. Not even a kiss, just a whisper of heat. Her voice had changed, becoming something saccharine and syrup-dipped, dripping with anticipated carnality. Oh, a full service experience? Zhao didn’t anticipate this being part of the deal, but who could turn down such a skilled professional? The woman was a master of her art. The hands soon returned, this time settling low on the hips, drifting slowly around to the front of their body. Her chest plastered against their back, chin nestled in the crook of their neck, the first finger slipped between their legs...

A voice sounded, somewhere down the hall, barely squeezing through a quickly narrowing tunnel of desire. Something about Survive and karaoke and Joon-gi said he’ll sing this time, are you done yet?

Without warning, the warmth of her body pressed against them disappeared as the woman pulled away and snatched a bag off the floor, leaving Zhao red-faced and stupefied. “Looks like it’s time for me to scram.” Back to business. No more Sexy Soapland Girl. “Put this on yer bruises ‘til they go away,” she said, dropping a tube of cream onto the stool as she hurried toward the door.

“Wait, who - “ Zhao tried to hoist themself out of the bath only to find their legs still shaky as a foal’s. They slipped back in with a wet plunk, sloshing water over the edge and onto the floor. By the time they’d righted themself, the woman was long gone and Kasuga had come wandering in with a towel to hassle them about their bathing habits. After a moment of teasing, they were left to dry, and dress, and try to pretend they weren’t wet in more ways than one.

It would be hours until they realized they didn’t remember seeing the woman’s face among the portraits over in the waiting room.

#lordt im rusty #og content

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