They're all harpies, he thinks, picturing their expensive shoes turning into dark claws digging into the floor the more excited they get. The image is a distraction and he can't get distracted now. There's only one man he's meant to serve at the moment. Ignoring their laughter, he allows himself to moan. Razor blades in his throat break his voice, no matter how quiet the noise he makes.

It's too gentle. It's good. And he nearly forgets at some point that this is just work, catching the man's gaze and fixating him -- even when he's remembered that he's playing the sort of whore that the guy wants. The flush of his cheek, hidden underneath a layer of drying come, and the twitch of muscles, everyone will be able to see that, but he doesn't fight it for the man who's currently buried inside of him, and for Jade. Not for any of the others.

In the end, it doesn't even seem to matter to the man that a drop of pre-come has appeared on the tip of his cock. Shinjirou sighs quietly, closing his eyes. "I hope so, too." Not.