03 - [carnaggio] scream if you want me.
Rating: NC-17
Characters: liam, amidio
Fandom: carnaggio shenanigans
Summary: eleven grand is too much to pay for ami to be graced with liam's pretty face.
Notes: unbeta'd. in which amidio is an ass.
closing time's around 2am, but amidio's lenient to most of his customers sometimes, and he sometimes moves it all the way to 3am (but no later than that). the crowd's mostly the same, really, he recognizes the socialites and the lovers and the rich kids and the college students who don't give a fuck that it's frickin' monday tomorrow. what's another day to lose?
-- and then, of course, there was liam. amidio raises an eyebrow as kazutaka, one of his chefs, laughs and points at the brat with the end of his knife. laughing with his girls on tow, he gives a tilt of the head to amidio and a cheery raise of a martini glass. amidio shakes his head, kazutaka hands him a small clipboard. "probably best to mark it down now, boss," kazutaka says, laughing as well, but the man's eyes are sharp and he knows. if abstergo isn't here rearing their ugly head and ruining their business (as much as he'd like to keep the two separate there just isn't any time), the boy was there and with his girls and they're twice as loud (lively, a voice in amidio's head supplied helpfully and he grimaced when he thought it sounded exactly like liam's).
... if that was all he was there for, that is. and that was the problem. kazutaka hands him the pen. "how much do you reckon i need to pull out this time?"
"how much was last time?" kazutaka replies, still smiling, but now he's turned away to serve the house special makki to a customer. the man's tone was jovial, but amidio knows those hands are deft enough to cut through fish easily as they would through the jugular. the rest of his chefs are like that, too; they know boss-san's inclinations. including the cute waitresses whom liam keeps hitting on (he's moved on to the redhead, now? that was fast); he sees her smile politely, and her free hand was lightly held over an apron pocket. you can bet that wasn't a pen she's waiting to grab.
"ah, let's see ... five thousand, i think. for one room, not counting the room beside it ... "
"y'know, boss, he probably isn't going to pay you back," that was mori. younger than kazutaka, he and the older man keep the sushi bar in good shape. amidio laughs. "it's tradition," he replies.
liam orders another drink, and mori nods sagely. "he's staying, boss," he replies. "i'll put it around ten."
amidio winced, and looked at the clock. two more hours. abstergo pays shitloads of cash, and he was thankful for that. otherwise he'd probably go bankrupt fast. like hell he's getting out of there, and it'd be rude to just kick him out. this is liam, brat's pretty difficult if he wants to be. amidio doesn't mind the others. nicky just went in to eat, paid, left. sometimes with that boy in tow, who was always sullen but quiet around the equally quiet doctor. soleil was a good girl. liam was just ...
"anyone know where he's parked his car around?"
"lot b, boss."
... an annoyance.
then again, it's practically tradition.
"good." amidio calls a waiter, grabs one of the martinis he had on his tray. "keep the drinks flowing," he says low, and the waiter nods, tilts his head to his fellow as he moves, and a network of hidden gestures ripple among them in the room.
3 am and amidio's out helping with take down, offering a smile or a thank you to anyone who passes by his way. liam taps him on the shoulder, face a little flushed, grinning. "i'm going upstairs. can i get another case up there?"
amidio frowns as he stacks a chair upside down on a table. "like hell you're getting a case up there."
"i'm paying, aren't i --?"
"you owe me a lot more than that," amidio cuts in. "last time you were in here, your presence cost me about five grand."
"that wasn't my fault," liam replies. "you're the one who wanted to skin me alive; how was i supposed to respond to that? i don't want to see myself bleed out."
"you wouldn't even know what blood is, liam. it won't make a difference to you."
liam frowns, grits his teeth. "dammit, ami --"
"-- call me that and i'll really skin you alive, vidic be damned --"
"-- amidio, my good friend," liam's got that look in his face that amidio is resisting to wipe off with the edge of his seat, and would probably have done so had he not reminded himself that his chairs cost a lot more than liam's pretty face, "i'd like to have a case of beer with us upstairs."
amidio purses his lips. "one. and you're going home after that." he frowns, tilts his head. "i'll drive you home. since we're good friends."
"... wait, what? since when were you like this?"
"just now," amidio said smoothly. "mori," he calls to his man wiping the counters, "beer in that room." mori nods, shaking his head. as an afterthought, he added, "keep it flowing there."
eyebrow raise. skeptical look. "you feelin' good today, or what?"
"didn't have to do a joint mission with nicky," he says. "i'll tell you more later."
liam nods, heads upstairs. mori chuckles. "i'll put it at eleven, boss-san, just to be safe."
"and the car?"
"lot b. second one, black."
"alright. i'll head to the kitchens to check on things a bit. when you leave, make sure everything's good and closed."
"got it, boss-san."
half an hour later, amidio heads upstairs. tradition, and all that crap.
over a bottle or two, this is what amidio tells him: that the other day, nicky brought in that kid. the kid with the blond hair and the grey eyes and who looks just about ready to die. liam laughs, shakes his head. "nicky's always been weird, but hell, kids? i didn't know the doc was into that shit."
"don't look like that," amidio says, "but the kid was weird. always had eyes on him. always wanted him in his line of sight. performed well on the animus trials -- i was there, was on duty for the day -- "
"-- what's his job now?"
"-- hunter, to replace the other one. anyway, did a good job, performed okay, still need some fine-tuning to get used to the shift from reality to the actual sessions, but i think he'll do good. provided, you know, he actually remembers what he's there for and just stop focusing on the doctor himself."
liam nods, taking all of this in. "so we got another one. he'll probably start soon, huh? i'll give him a week or two before they start pushing him like a dog."
"you are the only one, liam, who likes the animus about as much as you do."
liam shrugs, so what, he says. amidio takes another drink.
they talked about other things, most of them not important. after that liam just mostly rambled and amidio listened, listened quietly and listened well. he took out his knife and played with it while he listened, flipping it forward and back and over his fingers with precision. sometimes, he slipped, and his fingers get nicked with the tip of the blade, but that doesn't really matter for much. this, too, was part of things. as was waiting patiently.
when liam started slurring his words and repeating the same exact shit over and over again amidio laughed, shook his head. "we're going," he said. "your keys."
the executioner took the keys in his hand and led him outside, and amidio smiled sharply.
liam's pretty sure he hit his head when amidio just shoved him in the backseat. "motherfu --"
"can you be a little bit more quiet than that," was what amidio tells him later on, and doesn't really give him any more time to react and reply to that. a minute later he's kissing him. he's shoving his hands out of the way, he's got his knife drawn and he's wielding it above his shirt, pulling it down right in the middle and ripping cloth and buttons out of the way. liam heard them clatter down the floor and he heard the door shut close and now they're cramped inside a small space with amidio on top of him half-straddling and his shirt wide open and getting torn into shreds.
a hand brushes his thigh and liam draws in his breath sharply, accidentally bites on amidio's lip, shudders as he exhales. in the dark he can make out that fucker's smug smile. "you -- my fucking car --" was the most that he said was pretty coherent. the rest of his words were drowned with amidio's laughter, and the fact that he's painfully aware of amidio's leg that was painfully between his thighs, fuck, and of course he's not making things any easier for both of them.
and amidio doesn't mind things not being easy so long as they get done exactly how he wanted them done, which is why he loves it when liam tilts his head backwards to breathe and lips opened easily, tongue slick and warm and he tastes like beer and other intoxicating things and that's exactly what he wants, what he wants to take, and what amidio wants he normally gets them. the knife drops to the floor -- to better use both hands -- and he's got one hand holding liam's hands behind his back, the other dipping in lightly down his pants, (and the brat buckles against his touch, and he hears a softly strangled moan, and --) and he's taking that belt off, it's too annoying. and all this closeness and so much heat and in between gasps liam says, "y-you can't --"
"-- what?" and amidio moves down his neck, it's a little hard from where he is (haha, a little hard, he'll have to do more work now, fucking liam was such an annoyance, such a tradition already) but he's licking all the strong, tense muscles around that neck and that jugular where he'd pointed his knife numerous times because liam was such a brat, such a fucking brat. belt undone and his hand moves inside liam's pants, he can feel him there, can feel him arching to his touch, and he rubs him against the fabric, just to be an ass, and there's a frustrated moan somewhere that he hears and he sucks on the skin so close to his jugular, feeling that pulse, feeling his wants, catering to his needs, everything, everything so close and heated, just feeling everything. amidio laughs because he's getting drunk just by kissing and licking his skin and this, too, is tradition.
"not in my car -- fuck ..." and that was broken off, too, because amidio was lightly tracing his tattoos with his tongue and liam struggled to get his hands free from where he's pinned and that other hand in his pants was not helping either (goddammit why is he not going any further in --), and he can't help but grind against him, and he moans, a little louder than before, and amidio, eyes glinting, says, "oh. well, in that case."
and just as fast as he'd been on top of him amidio moves back, gets the door open and gets out. liam stares at him for a moment, wondering what the fuck just happened and what the fuck did amidio just did to him and then he screams in rage the moment amidio gets back on the driver's seat. "fucking -- you can't just -- oh my god --"
"you said not in your car." the car starts on and liam is about ready to punch amidio in the face, car be damned. "yeah, but -- ami, what the fuck, you can't just leave me like that -- asshole --"
"i'll get to that some other time," amidio deadpans, he's driving now, taking liam back to his apartment. he's well aware of how disheveled liam looks from the back, how frustrated, painfully aroused. cute, really. amidio grins smugly and gives himself an imaginary pat on the back. liam growls, enraged. "fuck you, amidio, i swear to god i'll cut you with your fucking knife when i find it --"
"touch me with that knife and i'll cut your dick off."
"for fuck's sake, ami --!!"
and he laughs, ignoring the nickname for now, really. he drives quietly that night, patiently through the highway while liam fumes and swears and calls him names from the backseat. that was eleven grand well saved, and damn, his bank's gonna be happy. boy does he have a story to tell mori and kazutaka when he gets back.
Characters: liam, amidio
Fandom: carnaggio shenanigans
Summary: eleven grand is too much to pay for ami to be graced with liam's pretty face.
Notes: unbeta'd. in which amidio is an ass.
closing time's around 2am, but amidio's lenient to most of his customers sometimes, and he sometimes moves it all the way to 3am (but no later than that). the crowd's mostly the same, really, he recognizes the socialites and the lovers and the rich kids and the college students who don't give a fuck that it's frickin' monday tomorrow. what's another day to lose?
-- and then, of course, there was liam. amidio raises an eyebrow as kazutaka, one of his chefs, laughs and points at the brat with the end of his knife. laughing with his girls on tow, he gives a tilt of the head to amidio and a cheery raise of a martini glass. amidio shakes his head, kazutaka hands him a small clipboard. "probably best to mark it down now, boss," kazutaka says, laughing as well, but the man's eyes are sharp and he knows. if abstergo isn't here rearing their ugly head and ruining their business (as much as he'd like to keep the two separate there just isn't any time), the boy was there and with his girls and they're twice as loud (lively, a voice in amidio's head supplied helpfully and he grimaced when he thought it sounded exactly like liam's).
... if that was all he was there for, that is. and that was the problem. kazutaka hands him the pen. "how much do you reckon i need to pull out this time?"
"how much was last time?" kazutaka replies, still smiling, but now he's turned away to serve the house special makki to a customer. the man's tone was jovial, but amidio knows those hands are deft enough to cut through fish easily as they would through the jugular. the rest of his chefs are like that, too; they know boss-san's inclinations. including the cute waitresses whom liam keeps hitting on (he's moved on to the redhead, now? that was fast); he sees her smile politely, and her free hand was lightly held over an apron pocket. you can bet that wasn't a pen she's waiting to grab.
"ah, let's see ... five thousand, i think. for one room, not counting the room beside it ... "
"y'know, boss, he probably isn't going to pay you back," that was mori. younger than kazutaka, he and the older man keep the sushi bar in good shape. amidio laughs. "it's tradition," he replies.
liam orders another drink, and mori nods sagely. "he's staying, boss," he replies. "i'll put it around ten."
amidio winced, and looked at the clock. two more hours. abstergo pays shitloads of cash, and he was thankful for that. otherwise he'd probably go bankrupt fast. like hell he's getting out of there, and it'd be rude to just kick him out. this is liam, brat's pretty difficult if he wants to be. amidio doesn't mind the others. nicky just went in to eat, paid, left. sometimes with that boy in tow, who was always sullen but quiet around the equally quiet doctor. soleil was a good girl. liam was just ...
"anyone know where he's parked his car around?"
"lot b, boss."
... an annoyance.
then again, it's practically tradition.
"good." amidio calls a waiter, grabs one of the martinis he had on his tray. "keep the drinks flowing," he says low, and the waiter nods, tilts his head to his fellow as he moves, and a network of hidden gestures ripple among them in the room.
3 am and amidio's out helping with take down, offering a smile or a thank you to anyone who passes by his way. liam taps him on the shoulder, face a little flushed, grinning. "i'm going upstairs. can i get another case up there?"
amidio frowns as he stacks a chair upside down on a table. "like hell you're getting a case up there."
"i'm paying, aren't i --?"
"you owe me a lot more than that," amidio cuts in. "last time you were in here, your presence cost me about five grand."
"that wasn't my fault," liam replies. "you're the one who wanted to skin me alive; how was i supposed to respond to that? i don't want to see myself bleed out."
"you wouldn't even know what blood is, liam. it won't make a difference to you."
liam frowns, grits his teeth. "dammit, ami --"
"-- call me that and i'll really skin you alive, vidic be damned --"
"-- amidio, my good friend," liam's got that look in his face that amidio is resisting to wipe off with the edge of his seat, and would probably have done so had he not reminded himself that his chairs cost a lot more than liam's pretty face, "i'd like to have a case of beer with us upstairs."
amidio purses his lips. "one. and you're going home after that." he frowns, tilts his head. "i'll drive you home. since we're good friends."
"... wait, what? since when were you like this?"
"just now," amidio said smoothly. "mori," he calls to his man wiping the counters, "beer in that room." mori nods, shaking his head. as an afterthought, he added, "keep it flowing there."
eyebrow raise. skeptical look. "you feelin' good today, or what?"
"didn't have to do a joint mission with nicky," he says. "i'll tell you more later."
liam nods, heads upstairs. mori chuckles. "i'll put it at eleven, boss-san, just to be safe."
"and the car?"
"lot b. second one, black."
"alright. i'll head to the kitchens to check on things a bit. when you leave, make sure everything's good and closed."
"got it, boss-san."
half an hour later, amidio heads upstairs. tradition, and all that crap.
over a bottle or two, this is what amidio tells him: that the other day, nicky brought in that kid. the kid with the blond hair and the grey eyes and who looks just about ready to die. liam laughs, shakes his head. "nicky's always been weird, but hell, kids? i didn't know the doc was into that shit."
"don't look like that," amidio says, "but the kid was weird. always had eyes on him. always wanted him in his line of sight. performed well on the animus trials -- i was there, was on duty for the day -- "
"-- what's his job now?"
"-- hunter, to replace the other one. anyway, did a good job, performed okay, still need some fine-tuning to get used to the shift from reality to the actual sessions, but i think he'll do good. provided, you know, he actually remembers what he's there for and just stop focusing on the doctor himself."
liam nods, taking all of this in. "so we got another one. he'll probably start soon, huh? i'll give him a week or two before they start pushing him like a dog."
"you are the only one, liam, who likes the animus about as much as you do."
liam shrugs, so what, he says. amidio takes another drink.
they talked about other things, most of them not important. after that liam just mostly rambled and amidio listened, listened quietly and listened well. he took out his knife and played with it while he listened, flipping it forward and back and over his fingers with precision. sometimes, he slipped, and his fingers get nicked with the tip of the blade, but that doesn't really matter for much. this, too, was part of things. as was waiting patiently.
when liam started slurring his words and repeating the same exact shit over and over again amidio laughed, shook his head. "we're going," he said. "your keys."
the executioner took the keys in his hand and led him outside, and amidio smiled sharply.
liam's pretty sure he hit his head when amidio just shoved him in the backseat. "motherfu --"
"can you be a little bit more quiet than that," was what amidio tells him later on, and doesn't really give him any more time to react and reply to that. a minute later he's kissing him. he's shoving his hands out of the way, he's got his knife drawn and he's wielding it above his shirt, pulling it down right in the middle and ripping cloth and buttons out of the way. liam heard them clatter down the floor and he heard the door shut close and now they're cramped inside a small space with amidio on top of him half-straddling and his shirt wide open and getting torn into shreds.
a hand brushes his thigh and liam draws in his breath sharply, accidentally bites on amidio's lip, shudders as he exhales. in the dark he can make out that fucker's smug smile. "you -- my fucking car --" was the most that he said was pretty coherent. the rest of his words were drowned with amidio's laughter, and the fact that he's painfully aware of amidio's leg that was painfully between his thighs, fuck, and of course he's not making things any easier for both of them.
and amidio doesn't mind things not being easy so long as they get done exactly how he wanted them done, which is why he loves it when liam tilts his head backwards to breathe and lips opened easily, tongue slick and warm and he tastes like beer and other intoxicating things and that's exactly what he wants, what he wants to take, and what amidio wants he normally gets them. the knife drops to the floor -- to better use both hands -- and he's got one hand holding liam's hands behind his back, the other dipping in lightly down his pants, (and the brat buckles against his touch, and he hears a softly strangled moan, and --) and he's taking that belt off, it's too annoying. and all this closeness and so much heat and in between gasps liam says, "y-you can't --"
"-- what?" and amidio moves down his neck, it's a little hard from where he is (haha, a little hard, he'll have to do more work now, fucking liam was such an annoyance, such a tradition already) but he's licking all the strong, tense muscles around that neck and that jugular where he'd pointed his knife numerous times because liam was such a brat, such a fucking brat. belt undone and his hand moves inside liam's pants, he can feel him there, can feel him arching to his touch, and he rubs him against the fabric, just to be an ass, and there's a frustrated moan somewhere that he hears and he sucks on the skin so close to his jugular, feeling that pulse, feeling his wants, catering to his needs, everything, everything so close and heated, just feeling everything. amidio laughs because he's getting drunk just by kissing and licking his skin and this, too, is tradition.
"not in my car -- fuck ..." and that was broken off, too, because amidio was lightly tracing his tattoos with his tongue and liam struggled to get his hands free from where he's pinned and that other hand in his pants was not helping either (goddammit why is he not going any further in --), and he can't help but grind against him, and he moans, a little louder than before, and amidio, eyes glinting, says, "oh. well, in that case."
and just as fast as he'd been on top of him amidio moves back, gets the door open and gets out. liam stares at him for a moment, wondering what the fuck just happened and what the fuck did amidio just did to him and then he screams in rage the moment amidio gets back on the driver's seat. "fucking -- you can't just -- oh my god --"
"you said not in your car." the car starts on and liam is about ready to punch amidio in the face, car be damned. "yeah, but -- ami, what the fuck, you can't just leave me like that -- asshole --"
"i'll get to that some other time," amidio deadpans, he's driving now, taking liam back to his apartment. he's well aware of how disheveled liam looks from the back, how frustrated, painfully aroused. cute, really. amidio grins smugly and gives himself an imaginary pat on the back. liam growls, enraged. "fuck you, amidio, i swear to god i'll cut you with your fucking knife when i find it --"
"touch me with that knife and i'll cut your dick off."
"for fuck's sake, ami --!!"
and he laughs, ignoring the nickname for now, really. he drives quietly that night, patiently through the highway while liam fumes and swears and calls him names from the backseat. that was eleven grand well saved, and damn, his bank's gonna be happy. boy does he have a story to tell mori and kazutaka when he gets back.