Chapter Two-Hundred Twenty-Three: Poor Negotiations

Chapter 223

Poor Negotiations

That evening, Tristan drove his car into his garage. He heard another set of wheels rolling in and raised an eyebrow. He stepped out of his car and the garage to see Lena getting out of a taxi. Tristan rushed ahead and withdrew his wallet. He handed the cash to the cab driver. Lena was caught by surprise.

Tristan: “Have a nice night, sir.”

He said to the cab driver. He nodded and drove away.

Lena reddened and thrust a basket with a pink floral blanket into his hands. Tristan smiled and took it.

Tristan: “What’s this?”

He smiled. He lifted the blanket and saw a blue tin inside. He lifted the lid, and his eyes brightened when he saw several cheesecake bars inside.

Tristan: “Oh, what are these?”

He took one out and ate one. The flavors of chocolate cheesecake danced on his tongue, and he felt his happiness rise.

Tristan: “These are delicious, Lena!”

He marveled. Lena blushed.

Lena: “Th-Thanks! I-I made them with Ashley.”

She said softly. Tristan smiled.

Tristan: “So you two are getting along now?”

Lena nodded.

Tristan smiled and cleared his throat.

Tristan: “Would you like me to take you to dinner?”

He asked. Lena’s byzantine eyes lit up.

Lena: “YES!”

She said in a heartbeat.

~

The amber glow of the chandeliers fought a losing battle against the deepening violet of the dusk, casting the lounge in a warmth that felt more like a memory than a physical heat. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass, the city was a sprawling carpet of flickering embers, stretching toward a horizon where the sky bled from gold into a bruised, smoky orange.

Inside, the world moved in a soft, rhythmic hush. Waiters in sharp, dark silhouettes glided between the low-slung velvet chairs like ghosts through a dream, their movements practiced and invisible. The air was thick with the low thrum of hushed conversations, the occasional crystalline chime of a cocktail glass, and the lingering scent of expensive tobacco and aged bourbon.

Each table was its own private island, anchored by the flickering pulse of a single candle. In the plush embrace of the armchairs, figures blurred into the shadows—some leaning in with conspiratorial whispers, others staring out at the urban expanse as if searching for a lost thought among the streetlights.

Tristan and Lena sat at a table. He was drinking a glass of pinot noir, and she had a unicorn float. Tristan withdrew his gold case from his jacket, took out a cigarette, and lit it with his lighter.

Lena: “This is lovely, Tristan.”

She said breathlessly. Tristan smiled at her.

The waiter arrived with their food. He placed an Apple City striploin, cooked rare, with fried mushrooms, onions, and Brussels sprouts. He placed blackened chicken alfredo before Lena. She gasped at how delectable her meal looked. Tristan smiled at her expression. He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and picked up his fork.

Trevor teleported to their table.

Tristan: “Trevor?!”

Trevor: “Oh, man, that looks good!”

He took Lena’s plate and her fork and began digging in. Lena cupped her mouth. Tristan angrily rose.

Tristan: “Excuse me?!”

He hissed. Trevor gaped at him with sauce all over his face. He reached down with his fork, stabbed his steak, and shoved it into his mouth. Tristan gaped at him.

Tristan: “What is the meaning of this, Trevor?!”

He asked sharply. Trevor swallowed the steak and let out a giant burp. Tristan narrowed his eyes at him.

Trevor: “Percy wants to see you!”

Tristan drew an exasperated breath and wiped himself off with a handkerchief.

Tristan: “He could have called me…”

Trevor: “It’s urgent.”

He drawled.

Lena embraced herself and looked away as she pursed her lips, fighting the tears stinging behind her eyes. Tristan knit his eyebrows.

Tristan: “Lena, it’s okay.”

He said gently, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Tristan: “We’ll do this again. I’m sorry.”

He said softly.

Tristan: “I’m putting this on Percy’s tab.”

He turned to Trevor, who scratched his ass.

Trevor: “Huh?”

Tristan rolled his eyes.

Tristan: “I’m driving this young lady home. I will meet with Percy after.”

He said firmly.

Lena rose, and Tristan put his arm around her as he guided her out.

~

Tristan walked Lena to her door. She turned to him and smiled.

Lena: “Thanks, Tristan…”

Tristan: “You’re welcome. I am sorry it didn’t turn out as planned.”

He pursed his lips. Lena’s eyelashes dipped.

Lena: “Being with you is always a pleasure!”

She exclaimed. Tristan raised his eyebrows.

Tristan: ‘Likewise, Lena.”

He admitted. She beamed.

Lena: “Night, Tristan…”

She said softly.

Tristan: “Good night, Lena.”

He replied softly.

When she entered her house, he went back to his car and got in. He started the engine and drove down the road.

Lena watched him go from her bedroom window and sighed. She reached behind herself to unzip her dress. It dropped to the floor, and she reached behind to unclip her bra. She then pulled down her panties and looked at herself in the tall mirror.

~

Narcisse stood outside, gazing at her through her window.

Narcisse: “Wow.”

He whispered as he stroked himself off.

Balderico: “Enjoying yourself, my friend?”

He chuckled. Narcisse turned around and fell on the dirt.

Narcisse: “What do you want with me?! Can’t a man enjoy himself?!”

Balderico smiled.

Balderico: “Yes, I suppose it’s logical to keep an eye on the Vaqueros, but your reasons and mine differ.”

He grinned. Narcisse stuffed his member inside his underwear, zipped his pants, and buckled his belt.

Narcisse: “Go play with your rubber duckies, Balderico. I will call you when I need you!”

He hissed and stormed past him. Balderico smiled tightly.

~

When Lena was sleeping, she wore a pink nightgown, the doorknob turned, and the door cracked open. Abraham stepped inside her bedroom and raised his camera to snap pictures of her sleeping.

~

Celeste stood in Fabien’s house, gazing at hers and Jaxon’s house across the street. She never saw Jaxon’s car pull in once. The house was dark and silent. Her eyelashes dipped as she stared down at her feet. She saw the headlights of Fabien’s Shelby Mustang pull into his driveway and brightened.

~

Fabien and Celeste were in bed. Fabien wore green plaid pajama pants, and Celeste wore black panties and a black tank top.

Fabien: “Sorry, I came home so late. Gary wanted me to work double time.”

He rubbed his eyes. Celeste put her arm around him and ran her hand over his chest.

Fabien: “Did Jaxon come home?”

Celeste paused.

Celeste: “No.”

Fabien twisted his mouth.

Fabien: “Do you know where he is?”

Celeste: “Not really, no.”

Fabien pursed his lips.

Fabien: “...Does he want to be in a relationship with us?”

Celeste: “I don’t know, and I don’t care. He’s moping to someone, and I’m sick of it.”

She huffed.

Fabien drew a long breath.

Fabien: “So, he’s back to his old trick, is he?”

Celeste: “Huh?”

Fabien: “He had issues with you, and instead of talking to you, he cheated on you with Deimos.”

He said angrily.

Celeste: “He’s not with Deimos now.”

Fabien: “No, but he’s with someone else.”

He rolled his eyes.

Fabien: “He wants to play games, fine. Take a page from Jordi’s book, and we can guess why he doesn’t want to talk to us.”

He said with annoyance. Celeste sighed.

Fabien: “Bad things happen to people all the time. I almost got raped by a fucking idiot with his shitty dog while delivering pizzas. I wasted a long time with Craig, who is a loser on par with Blair. Life goes on. You mope about it and feel sorry for yourself, or you pick up the pieces. If you have to, use Blair as motivation on what not to be like. That loser never had trauma, except some fat chick doesn’t want to date him.”

He rolled his eyes.

Fabien: “Blair’s grandfather doesn’t force him to be like him. Nah, he lets him stay home in his bedroom with clouds on the walls and a racecar bed and does nothing. I don’t think he updated his room since he was eight. He’s twenty-two now. And yet, he whines on Bungle all day about how ‘bad’ he has it. I love it.”

He scoffed.

Celeste: “Did your grandfather make you be like you?”

She asked. Fabien shook his head.

Fabien: “I never met him, actually. My father wanted me to be like him.”

He grimaced.

Fabien: “Like…, Blair got a job briefly at Fred’s Burger Castle. He worked for a day and was fired for harassing girls. Demetrio doesn’t force him to get a job. Nah, he keeps him home and gives him whatever he wants. My father wanted me to be a lawyer.”

He rolled his eyes.

Celeste: “I think you would have made a good one! You know how to debate.”

Fabien laughed.

Fabien: “I love debating, but nah, I’m not interested in being a lawyer. Sometimes you have to be nice to people.”

Celeste: “But you’re nice to people at your job!”

She chirped.

Fabien: “Touché. I guess it’s because they’re there to get something to eat or drink. I’m not like Tristan, okay? He can put up with bullshit, but I wouldn’t take that.”

He shrugged.

Fabien: “When I deal with customers from Danny Donger’s, they’re giving me an order of what they want to eat or drink. It’s not hard to retain, and concentration is minimal. If I had to do the shit Tristan does, it’s just… hard for me to concentrate. He reads books and concentrates on things for a long time, and I find that overwhelming, so fuck that.”

He scoffed.

Celeste: “Do you have ADHD?”

She locked her gaze on him. Fabien gaped at her.

Fabien: “...Did Tristan tell you that?”

She shook her head.

Celeste: “No. I just asked.”

Fabien: “I don’t know? I don’t think about it.”

Celeste: “Does coffee make you sleepy?”

Fabien twisted his mouth.

Fabien: “Actually, it does. I hate the taste, but whenever I have any, I fall asleep.”

He laughed.

Celeste: “Yeah, I’m the same and so is Jaxon!”

Fabien: “Deimos loves that shit.”

He laughed again.

~

Tristan stepped into Percy’s mansion. Percy stood behind the bar and spread his arms out. He wore an outfit blending historical Rococo and Victorian influences with a modern, ethereal aesthetic. The outfit was monochromatic, utilizing varying shades of lavender and periwinkle blue. The outer jacket was a structured, tailored coat with wide lapels and silver-toned buttons. It featured intricate floral embroidery on the cuffs and delicate lace ruffles at the shoulders, accented by hanging crystal droplets.

Beneath the jacket was a highly detailed vest, heavily adorned with silver floral embroidery and a vertical row of small buttons. It was further decorated with thin, draped silver chains that crossed the midsection.

A voluminous, ruffled white silk jabot sat at his neck, providing a soft contrast to the structured tailoring. The sleeves end in dramatic, layered organza ruffles. The outfit was completed with matching tailored trousers in the same pale lavender hue and white boots.

Tristan approached the bar and sat down. Percy smiled at him.

Percy: “I see you hit me with a tab of four-hundred and thirty dollars at Belle Époque.”

He chuckled.

Tristan: “Your transportation interrupted my evening and ate our food. I never intended to purchase food for him.”

He said sharply. Percy smiled and rested his head on his hand.

Percy: “And yet, you and your chums use him as your personal transportation.”

Tristan: “Because he’s there and he offers.”

He said firmly. Percy smiled.

Percy: “I paid for it, my Ice Prince. You’re worth it.”

Percy stood up and folded his arms.

Percy: “You must like this girl to take her to such a place.”

Tristan: “Stick to the topic. What was so important that you had to have Trevor summon me?”

He glared at him. Percy raised his eyebrows.

Percy: “Relax, my ice prince. I am not your enemy. I should have communicated to Trevor that it wasn’t urgent.”

He drew a long breath.

He filled a cocktail shaker with ice and added 0.5 ounces of white sugar, 1.5 ounces of citrus vodka, 0.5 ounces of elderflower liqueur, 0.75 ounces of Cointreau, 1 ounce of white cranberry juice, and 0.25 ounces of fresh lime juice. He shook it in the shaker and poured it through a strainer into a martini glass. He garnished it with three cranberries and edible glitter.

Percy: “I dub this ‘Frozen Starlight’.”

Tristan took it and sipped it. He raised his eyebrows.

Tristan: “It’s lovely.”

He withdrew his gold case and took out a cigarette. Percy used his lighter to light it. Tristan inhaled a long drag.

Tristan: “So what did you need me for?”

Percy folded his arms.

Percy: “Your old flame’s father paid me a visit.”

Tristan exhaled a drag.

Tristan: “Fen?”

Percy nodded.

Percy: “He came to me for help. He owes a debt to The Azure Dragon Pavilion.”

Tristan sipped his drink.

Tristan: “Why should that affect me?”

Percy snorted.

Percy: “It’s what Zhaolin Lan wants from him to settle his debt.”

He leaned forward.

Percy: “She wants a version of Ehtytrim called ‘Aetheris-9’.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow.

Tristan: “There’s a compound of Ehtytrim under that name?”

Percy shrugged.

Percy: “That’s what Zhaloin wants from Fen.”

Tristan cupped his chin.

Tristan: “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of this or come across this compound.”

Percy twisted his mouth.

Percy: “For whatever reason, she thinks Fen Huang is the man to get it. The man can barely run his own brothel. How will he obtain a formula of Ehtyrtrim that is likely impossible to reach?”

He chuckled.

Tristan: “Why summon me for this? You don’t strike me as wanting to help Fen.”

Percy laughed.

Percy: “I don’t, but what he told me has my interests piqued, and I figured you’d like to know.”

Tristan stared down at the reflection in his drink.

Jaxon came downstairs wearing his silk red dragon robe.

Jaxon: “Yo, Tristan! What brings you by?”

He smiled. Tristan raised his eyebrows, surprised to see Jaxon.

Tristan: “Percy requested my presence. What are you doing here?”

Jaxon smiled tightly.

Jaxon: “Living life and being happy…”

He sighed happily, locking his gaze on Percy. Tristan glanced at him and back at Percy.

Tristan: “Oh, I see. Well, I’m happy for you, Jaxon.”

He said sincerely.

Percy: “Well, now my Pepper Prince requested my presence, so I bid you good night, my Ice Prince.”

Tristan drained his drink.

Tristan: “I understand completely. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

He slid his bum off the seat.

Tristan: “Good night, you two.”

He nodded.

Fen dashed in and checked out Tristan.

Fen: “Hey, if it isn’t my ex-wife’s sexy boss?”

He purred. Tristan gaped at him.

Percy: “Evening, Fen. I don’t recall you making an appointment.”

He grinned.

Fen: “Percy, you’re surrounded by hotties. I’m kind of jealous.”

He licked his lips. Jaxon groused.

Percy: “Go on, my ice prince. He’s going to be leaving soon anyway.”

Tristan looked uncomfortable and left. Fen checked out his ass as he walked out.

Fen: “Check out the ass on him.”

He nodded.

Percy: “Fen, do not test my patience, darling…”

Fen paused.

Fen: “I bet he has nothing on under that robe.”

Percy slammed his fist down. Fen jolted.

Fen: “Okay, okay, sorry!”

Percy turned to Jaxon.

Percy: “Go ahead, love, I will be down with you shortly. Whatever Fen has to offer, I know I won’t want!”

He said wryly. Jaxon smiled, and the two kissed.

Fen gazed at Jaxon and stared at him as he walked down to the basement.

Percy: “My eyes are here!”

He turned Fen’s head to him. Fen pursed his lips.

Fen: “Okay, how do you feel about diaper fetishes?”

Percy gaped at him.

Percy: “Fen, I am terribly not in the mood for jokes now.”

He laughed awkwardly.

Fen: “Hey, it’s not my thing, but don’t kink shame!”

He put his hands up.

Percy: “The answer is no.”

Fen: “My daughter, Lily, needs a man after Borko got killed or died or whatever. She’s really into wearing diapers and needs someone to change her diaper—”

Before he could finish, Percy reached out and grabbed his neck. Fen choked and gagged.

Percy: “Fen, listen VERY carefully. Do not EVER bring those fetishes to my table again. Do I make myself clear?”

He hissed through a tight smile. Fen gagged.

Fen: “Crystal!”

He choked. Percy threw him down. Fen gasped and held onto his neck as he coughed.

Percy: “Try making that offer to Zhaolin and see how far you get.”

He smirked. Fen went pale.

Percy: “I thought so. Fen, don’t waste any more of my precious time. A word of advice to the not-so-wise: don’t accept deals if you can’t keep your end of the bargain, and keep your daughter’s disgusting fetishes out of any negotiations.”

He grinned. Fen glared at Percy and bared his teeth. He angrily rose and stormed out of the manor.

~

The steam rising from the indoor hot tub turned the tile-lined room into a private, hazy sanctuary. The air was thick with the scent of eucalyptus and chlorine.

Percy was settled against the smooth, molded acrylic of the tub’s corner, his arms draped along the ledge. He took some sake from the float and gulped it. He looked every bit the anchor Jaxon needed—steady, calm, and utterly focused on the man currently drifting into his space.

Jaxon moved through the churning water, his movements slowed by the resistance, until he settled between Percy’s legs. He let out a long, shaky exhale as he leaned back against Percy’s chest.

Percy didn’t hesitate. He brought his arms down from the ledge, wrapping them firmly around Jaxon’s waist and pulling him flush against his heat. The contrast was a dream: the pulsing, mechanical warmth of the jets against their skin and the solid, grounding pressure of Percy’s hold.

He leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive line of Jaxon’s neck before moving upward. When Jaxon turned his face, seeking him out, Percy met him halfway. The kiss was slow and tasted of damp heat—a soft, lingering exploration that mirrored the lazy swirl of the water around them.

Jaxon let his eyes flutter shut, his hands reaching back to grip Percy’s damp hair, pulling him closer. It wasn't about urgency; it was about the seamless way they fit together. Percy’s thumb traced small, soothing circles over Jaxon’s hip under the water, a silent reassurance that for right now, there was nowhere else they had to be.

As the kiss broke, Jaxon shifted, turning around in the narrow space to face Percy fully. He tucked his head under Percy’s chin, curling his smaller frame into the larger man’s embrace. Percy adjusted his hold, pulling Jaxon’s legs over his own, effectively anchoring him. Jaxon felt the steady beat of Percy’s heart against his cheek, a rhythmic reminder of the safety he found here.

They stayed like that for a long time, tangled together in the blue-lit water, letting the steam blur the rest of the world away until all that remained was the warmth of the tub and the quiet breath of the man holding him.

The water seemed to grow hotter as the silence deepened, the air between them charged with a new, heavy electricity. Percy’s hands, previously content to simply hold Jaxon, began a slow, deliberate exploration of the slick skin of Jaxon’s back.

Jaxon let out a soft, jagged breath as Percy’s palms slid down to his lower back, pulling him even tighter against his lap. The buoyancy of the water made Jaxon feel weightless, but Percy’s grip was firm, grounding him. Jaxon’s hands wandered from Percy’s hair to his broad shoulders, his fingers digging in slightly as Percy’s mouth returned to his, this time with a demanding hunger.

The kiss deepened, turning from a lazy drift into a focused heat. Jaxon’s heart hammered against his ribs, mirroring the rhythmic thrum of the hot tub’s jets. He felt Percy’s knee nudge between his thighs, prompting him to wrap his legs around Percy’s waist.

With Jaxon now straddling him, the intimacy shifted. Percy’s hands moved beneath the surface, his touch sure and possessive as he cupped his buttocks.

Jaxon: “Percy…”

He breathed against his lips, half-plea and half-encouragement.

Percy: “You’re safe with me…”

His voice dropped an octave. He shifted Jaxon slightly, lifting him just enough to settle him more firmly against him. The friction of skin on skin, slick with water and heat, sent a jolt through Jaxon, making his toes curl.

The world outside the tile walls of the hot spring room ceased to exist. There was only the roar of the water in their ears, the taste of salt and skin, and the overwhelming sensation of being completely unraveled by the man holding him. Percy’s hardened cock slowly entered Jaxon. Jaxon threw his head back and moaned in pure bliss.

Percy’s movements were steady and masterful, guiding Jaxon into a slow, swaying rhythm that matched the pulsing water. Jaxon arched his back, his head falling back as Percy’s teeth grazed the sensitive hollow of his throat. Every touch was amplified by the heat of the tub, turning the simple act of friction into something white-hot and consuming.

Jaxon clung to Percy’s shoulders, his breath coming in short, sharp hitches. He felt completely exposed yet entirely safe, anchored by Percy’s strength even as the water tried to drift them apart. In the haze of the steam and the blue glow of the underwater lights and illuminating the room, they moved as one, lost in a private tide of their own making.

Tristan stood outside the glass hot spring doors as he watched, cupping his mouth, and his eyes widened. He cleared his throat and straightened his suit jacket.

As he walked outside the spa area and into the BDSM room, he ran into Tickles the Clown. He held a black thrusting vibrator pistol with a ball on the end that thrusted as the trigger was pulled, and gazed in awe as the ball thrusted. Tristan forced a smile and was about to leave until Tickles placed his hand on his shoulder and grinned. Tristan looked at him with panic.

~

Tickles the Clown locked Tristan’s bare feet in his arm as he ran the vibrator over his soles, and Tristan laughed loudly and hysterically.

Tristan: “WAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOA!! WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

He laughed hard and gasped for air. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he laughed.

Tickles: “Cootchie-cootchie-coo!”

He sang as the vibrator glided on Tristan’s soft soles.

Triatan: “ARGH!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! WAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAA!!”

He laughed and whined.

~

Tristan marched out of Percy’s manor furiously and went to his car. Deimos landed before him.

Tristan: “Deimos, I am not in the mood!”

He said furiously. Deimos glared.

Deimos: “That fucker tickled you! I’m going inside and going to fucking shred him!”

He started to march, but Tristan stopped him by placing his hand on his shoulder. Deimos shivered when he felt Tristan’s soft hand.

Tristan: “Don’t go, please, Deimos. Can you come with me while I drive home?”

He said beseechingly. Deimos raised his eyebrows and smiled a bit.

~

Tristan drove home with Deimos in the passenger’s seat.

Deimos: “So, uh, why is Jaxon’s car there?”

Tristan froze and then sighed.

Tristan: “I think he will be living there.”

He replied. Deimos looked away.

Deimos: “Did he tell Celeste or Fabien this?”

Tristan sighed and shook his head.

Deimos: “I think Celeste should let him go. Jaxon was never relationship material.”

He huffed.

Tristan: “I feel… Celeste and Jaxon love and care for each other, but sometimes that’s not enough. Sometimes you can love someone, but you can’t give them what they need, and Celeste and Jaxon couldn’t give each other that.”

He said sincerely in a plaintive tone.

Deimos: “It seemed good until Seashell Cove.”

Tristan’s eyelids dipped.

Tristan: “Yes… I know.”