Petshop of Horrors, D/Fehmut, enticement
"Oh, my," D breathes when Fehmut walks through the door, his whole face lighting up. "I'm so pleased that you've decided to come back, Pharaoh. To what do we owe the honor?"
Fehmut smirks, flinging himself onto the couch. D knows how to treat him. D is appreciative of his place. "We like it better here," he says. It's a lie, but he tries not to think about that. After all, he wouldn't be here if Tokiwa hadn't run off to the mountains without him. It's nice here, even if the incense does sting his nose a little and he doesn't really like the dogs that much.
D's smile widens as he kneels on the ground next to Fehmut, stroking Fehmut's knee with his long fingers. Fehmut shivers; D's fingers are cool, and he can feel the gentle scrape of fingernails along his skin. "I am so very glad," he says. "Would you like some sushi, since I just so happen to have had some brought by this morning? I'm afraid it's not quite to my--"
"Yes!" Fehmut practically leaps off of the couch. It's been so long since he's had sushi, since Tokiwa could afford it, and now that D's mentioned it he wants it so badly that he can taste it. "Is there tuna? Is there?"
"I believe so," D murmurs. Fehmut waits there, very patient and benevolent-- a lesser Pharaoh, he thinks, would have followed D to get the sushi faster-- until D returns with a platter of delicious, wonderful fish wrapped in seaweed and rice. Fehmut has never quite understood the Japanese obsession with hiding the delicious, delicious fish, but, against all odds, it tastes good. He's quivering a little in place as D holds out a piece-- not using chopsticks like Tokiwa insists on, just his bare hands-- and then Fehmut can't wait any longer. He leans forward, almost far enough to fall off the couch, and takes the sushi from D's fingers, licking at the man's fingers to make sure he doesn't miss any of the wonderful, wonderful fish taste.
D makes a noise, low in his throat, like pleasure, and Fehmut's making it, too, because sushi. He leans forward eagerly, awaiting another piece, and D, obedient servant that he is, places another in his mouth.
"Aren't you beautiful," D says, his voice throaty. "Oh, yes, you are." He strokes Fehmut as Fehmut chews, pausing on the warm skin Fehmut's outfit bares and caressing his abdomen. "If you stay here, you'll get all the sushi and all the attention you want."
That sounds like heaven, Fehmut thinks, and arches into D's touch as the man gently strokes his cock through the fabric of his shorts. There's the taste of fish and D's skin on his tongue as he comes, and D gathers him in his arms to give him the proper amount of attention a Pharaoh should be given, and Fehmut closes his eyes and purrs even though he's in human form. It's too bad D's not his, too bad D smells like all the other animals as well and doesn't have that wonderful Tokiwa feel that makes Fehmut want to rub all over. But he has tuna and gentle hands, and Fehmut likes it here.