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If he is totally honest, Fresh Cut Grass regrets agreeing to this as soon as he enters the room. Not enough to turn back, but enough to fill them with something similar to apprehension, clasping their hands together and fidgeting back and forth on their wheel. He felt so smart when he bargained for this location (Ashton always says to never meet on another’s terms), insisting they meet in a room at the Spire By Fire rather than the stranger’s ‘office’, but turning up alone without telling his friends where he went seems quite stupid now.
But, still, they don’t leave. Instead, they roll across the room and spin to face the door, waiting for the other person to arrive. And although, if he knew where they are, Ashton would scream at them to fucking leave, Fresh Cut Grass ignores that thought, and tries to remember what they want to say.
Finally, several minutes past their agreed meeting time, somebody knocks on the door and opens it before FCG has time to respond. Just as expected, a tall, threatening human man strolls into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.
“I’m surprised you showed up,” he says, staring down at them.
FCG ignores the venom in his voice, replying with a cheerful, “Smiley day to ya.”
The man sighs, dropping into a chair beside the small table and folding his arms across his chest. Fresh Cut Grass swears Ashton told him the man’s name, but they can’t recall it, and it would be rude to ask, so they keep their mouth shut.
“So, you finally gonna tell me what this is about?”
“What, what do you mean?” FCG asks, already unnerved enough by the human’s demeanor that they stammer over their first word.
“I mean, do you even realize how stupid you are? I shell out millions in loans across the city—not just this Spire, but the whole fucking city. People know the dangers from not repaying their debts in time, and many would rather die than take a loan from me… and yet one of my boys walks in and tells me a fucking stupid little automaton asked for ‘The Boss’ personally and wouldn’t take ‘piss off’ for an answer.” He laughs, fixing FCG with his piercing blue eyes. “Do you have a death wish or something?”
“Not at all. And I’m sorry if your, uh, ‘boys’ told you different, but I’m not lookin’ for a loan. Sir,” he adds, almost flinching when the human laughs harder.
“Then what the fuck did you drag me here for?” Without warning, a foot flies out, kicking FCG in the face with a clang. Smirking, the human watches them topple onto their back, and then stands to his impressive height, steps forwards, and places the same foot on FCG’s chest, pinning them to the floor. “If you just wanted to waste my time, then—”
“No, no!” Fresh Cut Grass cries, undamaged but shaken. “I’d never wanna waste your time, truly. It’s… I mean… you know Ashton, right?”
The human’s expression softens slightly, but he doesn’t let them go. “Ashton Greymoore? Yeah, course I do. He’s always making the most pathetically small repayments on his loan and keeps trying to challenge me to card games to gamble their loan away. Oh,” he says, the terrifying smirk returning. “I bet I know where this is going.”
“You do?”
“Sure I do. I’ve been moneylending for twenty years. I’ve seen everything.” He removes his foot, releasing FCG, but they don’t move. “You want me to waive his debts, right?”
“No, course I don’t,” FCG says, raising his head to meet his intense gaze. “I mean, I’d like that, yeah, but you’re never gonna do that. It’s just, could you get your men to stop threatenin’ them?”
“That’s quite an accusation.”
“Oh, it ain’t an accusation, sir. I was there. He walked on up to Ashton and was all ‘your six months are up’ and ‘we know you’ve got the money’ and ‘we’ll make you pay’. Those’re threats.”
The human rolls his eyes. “It’s Greymoore’s own fault, asshole. My terms are clear: within six months, you gotta pay back the entire loan plus interest. And it’s not like they can’t afford to pay the rest back—everyone’s seen the money they’re throwing about lately. He’s just fucking with me, and I’m not gonna put up with that.”
“I know Ashton can be… difficult to work with, but, please, you can’t hurt him.”
“Then tell him to pay me my fucking money back!” the human yells, slamming his foot down on FCG’s hand. When they twitch their fingers, FCG finds one responding slower than the others—very minor damage, but he damaged their body nonetheless.
“Ashton won’t listen to me.”
“Then pay me yourself if you care about him so much!”
“I don’t have any money. Ashton looks after the gold for the both of us.”
“For the love of…” Sighing, the human spits out, “Then fucking take it!”
“I can’t do that to—”
With another echoing clang, the human kicks him in the side of the head, so hard FCG momentarily forgets how to speak. For a few seconds, their left eye malfunctions, their vision becoming fuzzy and monochromatic, before thankfully flickering back to normal. But as he lies there, all FCG can think about is Ashton, who has pissed off this incredibly violent man. One against one, the human would stand no chance against Ashton, but he has an entire network of men working for him (several of whom FCG met yesterday when trying to find their boss), and with enough people ganging up against Ashton… They would kill him. They would brutally kill Ashton and make sure he suffers for as long as possible.
But FCG is alone with their leader, who cannot order his men to hurt Ashton while he’s busy pinning FCG to the floor, and perhaps he can make the human change his mind. After all, unlike Ashton, FCG isn’t soul-touched, isn’t a person, so the human’s methods of torture would be seriously limited. And of course they will do anything for Ashton, the one who found them after the incident, the one who introduced him to Milo and gave them a place to live, the one who has kept them safe ever since they met.
“Then get the fuck outta here,” the human says, his voice a little distorted (did the kick to the head affect their auditory processing too?). “And think yourself lucky I didn’t double the debt ‘cause of your fucking meddling—”
“Wait!” Fresh Cut Grass says, sitting up and holding out their hands. “Is… Is there any chance you’d let someone else pay a person’s loan off?”
“Yeah, sure, that’s fine,” he says with no hesitation, shrugging a shoulder like he didn’t just kick FCG. “I don’t give a fuck how I get the money back. Why’re you asking, though? You just said you haven’t got any money.”
“I know. But I was just wonderin’…” Slowly, FCG stands up, wobbling on their wheel until he regains his balance, and keeping his hands in what he hopes is a defensive position. “My associate, Dancer, she made me capable of a lotta different things. Whatever you need, I’m sure I can do. And… if I work long enough, would ya consider that as payment for Ashton’s loan?”
When they finish speaking, FCG finally raises their head, meeting his gaze. The human continues to stare at him with those terrifying eyes, and it feels as though his vision bores right through them—although, of course, it doesn’t.
“Hmm,” he says, tapping his fingers against his chin. “Yeah, I think we could work something out?”
“Really?! Sure, when do I start? What’re my tasks?”
The human chuckles. “Wow, you’re certainly eager to please, I’ll give you that.”
“Well, I mean, it’s kinda my purpose. And I’ll do anythin’ to help Ashton.”
“Anything, huh?”
FCG opens their mouth wider (their own version of a smile), nodding vigorously. “Yessir. I owe Ashton a lot, and payin’ off their biggest debt’s gotta be the least I can do for them, y’know?”
“Loyal too,” the human says. “I wish my men were as obedient as you. Anyway, if you seriously wanna clear Greymoore’s debt, that’ll take multiple hours of labor, until you’ve saved me the equivalent amount of gold I would’ve got in loan repayments. If you give me three hours a day, every-other-day, I think the debt’ll be cleared in a month. Sound doable for you?”
“Sure, that works,” FCG says, still nodding. “I mean, I’m busy a lot, but I live here, so I’ll always be nearby. I think.”
“Able to start working today?”
“Yeah, today’s free,” they say. “I don’t think Ashton’s even up yet. I got plenty of time ‘til they notice I’m gone.”
Their works pique the human’s interest, his eyebrow raising. “Sorry, did you really come here without telling anyone you’d left, let alone where you were going?”
“Um… yeah.”
He snorts, spluttering to hold back laughter. “Fuck, I’ve never met anything so freaking naïve. You willingly walked—rolled—right into the lion’s den, all for a friend who’s too stupid to pay back his loans quick enough?” His smirk returns, darker than before, something sinister but unreadable shining in his eyes (threatening enough to make FCG hold back a retort, not wishing to anger him). “You know what? I’ve got a task for you.”
“You do?” FCG says, regretting this more than ever—yet at the same time, glad they reached out to the moneylender before he went after Ashton. “And you’ll…?”
“Yeah, yeah. I promise I’ll get my boys to quit threatening Greymoore. Now get over here and suck my dick.”
“H-Huh?” Fresh Cut Grass splutters, stunned by both the bizarre order and how the conditions of their agreement already sound different. “I’m sorry… what?”
“You’ve got hours of work ahead of you—the debt comes later. Now are you gonna get over here, or were you bullshitting when you said you’ll do anything for your friend?” the human says, his gaze feeling as though it could petrify anyone who met his eyes, and resting both hands on his thighs, slowly rubbing them against his pant legs.
“Hey! Course I ain’t lying! I really would do anyt—”
CLANG!
The human slams his boot into FCG’s other hand, hard enough to jolt him back a few feet. “Shut the fuck up! You work for me now, and nobody yells at the boss and gets away with it. Now get on with it, or I’ll wrench that stupid smile off your ugly face!”
FCG doesn’t resist when he grabs their arms, letting him tug them forwards so hard they don’t have time to slow their movement, rolling straight into the human’s leg. He raises his head, just in time to watch the human unbuttoning his pants, standing briefly to pull his pants and underwear partway down his thighs, before sitting back down, his… genitals right in front of their face. And FCG may have no direct experience with sex, but he understands clearly as the human grabs himself, hand encircling his penis, and begins to stroke up and down his length. His free hand darts out, grabbing Fresh Cut Grass by the chin, forcing him to watch the movement of his hand and his rapidly growing erection.
The human moans slightly as he stimulates himself, slowly pulling their head closer. “What’re you waiting for?” he asks.
“I, I, I’m not made for this,” FCG finally whispers, humiliated to find himself stammering again, somehow unable to vocalize their thoughts affectively. “I dunno how… I dunno how… I dunno… If you’ll get any pleasure outta this.”
“I don’t care. Just do your job already.”
Even though he has no idea how to do this, FCG lowers their head, mouth open, and takes him inside them. The human gasps, flinching as cold metal envelops sensitive skin, but FCG doesn’t stop—after all, they have no gag reflex to hinder their progress. Just wanting to get this over with, FCG opens wider, swallowing him as deep as physically possible, until their head is pressed against his pelvis, able to see nothing but skin and thick hair.
“Holy shit…” the human moans, clamping his hands against both sides of FCG’s head, his hips bucking against their face.
And FCG just goes as limp as an automaton can, letting the human roughly jerk their head back and forth as he thrusts against them, and trying to distract himself from this situation. When that fails, he thinks of Ashton, remembering he is doing this for them—to be useful to the friend who rescued him—and just hopes Ashton never learns the circumstances around the cancellation of his debt.