His consciousness is already warped when he reaches over to her across the surface of the floor. It must be, or else why would he be doing this of his own free will? "I won't pay for this," he warns, calmly, foolishly. "This is your wish too, right? I won't pay!"

And so the game begins as she rolls over to face him with half-lidded, almost catlike eyes. And he realizes that he would pay anyway, and it would be any price for him just to see a smirk like that again, anticipatory of his actions. "My," she all but purrs, "Always about prices, am I now?" A scoff from her companion implies the most obvious answer. "And you, love, what about you? Always about the consequences…" The next smile is a bitter one with teeth grinding at him from behind her prized opium pipe. "We do make such a lovely couple."

Without the time to think about matters of sincerity she is on him, crawling forward with that same mischievous, sour look like a predator about to kill and feed. Though he supposes that is just Yuuko, his slightly more than half-crazed employer.

It takes him a moment to realize it once he finds himself on the ground, that Maru and Moro and Mokona have been sent out of the room and he is on his back and only slightly uncomfortable…and, possibly most surprising, that she is lying on top of him. "Ungh…" he forces out in sudden surprise as her hands roam where an employer's surely are not supposed to roam on the body of a subordinate, reaching first for the lowermost buttons on his formerly neatly-tucked uniform shirt. "You know…" But her insatiable appetite – about which he is only now finding out, the one that is for something other than alcohol – has already taken the place of her mind.

Ghost marks from her entirely too soft, too skillful lips are covering him completely and totally, trailing in a backwards path from the very bottom of his abdomen, to his collarbone to his neck, and he almost expects to feel the sinking in of sharp ivory fangs from his seemingly too perfect to be human master. But they are ordinary teeth, and lips, and they alone are enough to drive him privately mad.

It seems to occur to him at some point – sometime between the nibbling on his earlobe and the fingers dancing along his chest – that she is completely and totally dominating him, and true to his submissive but entirely stubborn nature he decides that he is simply to dignified to be overpowered by such a woman. If she insists upon overtaking him in every other aspect, must she also insist upon doing so as a mate? "So, go ahead, you take it from here," she challenges him, and oblivious of the face that he's rather forcefully grabbed her wrists he has no choice but to assume she's read his mind.

"Gah…don't do that!" He half-grunts, half-scowls in return, but follows her advice nonetheless and overturns her lithe, willing body underneath his own.

There is little of Yuuko that he hasn't already seen through seemingly uninterested glances in the time he's worked for her; the clothes she chooses for herself on a daily basis can hardly be considered clothes so much as they are meager methods of hiding only the most private areas for the sake of modesty or perhaps just obligation. But more clothes are swiftly shed between the two and subsequently tossed over into unidentified black holes in the room, never to be seen or thought about again until this ordeal is finished. And it's not long before he's quite literally seeing everything, and she is in turn seeing his slightly embarrassed, slightly awestruck expression. She smirks and, with silence and a kiss, removes the glasses that enable him to see her quite so sharply, realistically. "Better?" she asks, though she knows from the heat against her thigh that he has quickly lost any ability to thoughtfully answer.

It isn't long at all before they are making love into the night, and she is surprised between waves of pleasure at his stamina, his passion (hidden, though poorly so), the fact that such traits can come from someone so painfully young. And with the rising sun they finally decide that they are tired, and she is lying with her arms and hair wrapped around his body and her legs tangled helplessly with his, and their breathing is following rough, oxygen-starved patterns as she rests with her head on his chest and her palm on his shoulder. It may come back to bite her soon, but how could she ever bring herself to regret him? "I hope I haven't just surrendered the rest of my soul," he comments off-handedly to the half-asleep woman in his protective arms.

"You remind me of someone," she murmurs as an all too simple response, for yes, even without those glasses the resemblance he bears is far too great for her liking. And before he has the time to question it, she is fast asleep and pinning him underneath her dead weight. They would both have to pay for this, but his price is different from anything he could possibly come to conceive.

Oh my…so this is what happens when I don't get nearly enough sleep. Obviously AU, or at least before current events, and warped probably beyond readability since I've no energy to go back and edit it. Ah well…send me your thoughts in any case, even if you're just dropping by with a 'this is terrible.' Much appreciated!