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Fic: Scenic Route (Tooth/North, Pitch/Sandy, others mentioned, R)

gretchensinister I saw you had a bit of a sad and thought I would whip up a quick something to alleviate the sads <3.

In which Tooth works at a BDSM club where the others are co-workers or patrons because why the heck not.


Tooth loves her job. She’s watched people of all ages find a place for themselves and their lifestyles at the club, and she’s knocked a few assholes who didn’t get the “safe, sane, consensual” memo down a few pegs. She’s made friends who’ll last a lifetime, found people to play with and people to love, and she’s watched others do the same from her place behind the bar.

Well, usually behind the bar. Sometimes she’s on clean-up duty. Sometimes she’s part of the reason the club has clean-up duty.

It’s late enough in the evening that everyone has settled down. Nightlight and Katherine have booked a private room as per usual, though the thin walls of the club only block out the view, not the sounds. Tooth doesn’t know what those two get up to behind closed doors, and isn’t inclined to pry, but whatever Katherine does makes Nightlight practically sing.

Jack and Jamie have laid claim to the hot tub for now, so she’s having to keep an eye on them periodically between cleaning glasses - she trusts Jack, but Jamie’s impetuous and likes to forget the “no sex in the hot tub” notice hanging directly over said hot tub, and she isn’t in the mood for draining it because of one teenage boy again.

Bunny’s off upstairs either giving or being given a rope demonstration if his habits are anything to go by. She’ll catch up with him later one way or another; he’s a sweet guy, but slow to trust, and she and North both like to try and bring him out of his shell with hugs and hot chocolate at the end of a night.

Every so often the series of cracking and thudding noises from the public play room are complimented by an obscene groan, and Tooth bites her lip in between serving drinks or cleaning glasses as a result. Plenty of people at the club make pretty noises, but Pitch’s are delicious.

Tooth has seen people of every gender, shape, age, and colour cross the club’s threshold, but there’s something magical about Pitch and Sandy’s play.

The fact their scenes are non-verbal is part of it, even if that’s more for practical reasons courtesy of Sandy being deaf. The beautiful contrast between them is another, Pitch tall and thin and black-haired, Sandy short and tan and blond. They’re an aesthetically pleasing duo in every way.

But it’s the chemistry between them that makes them truly stand out. Pitch will give Sandy a look, or Sandy will brush his fingers over Pitch’s arm, and it’s electric. It’s not like normal love - not the love Tooth deals with on a daily basis, at least, something that’s either a slow burning thing nurtured over time, or sharp and bright and obsessive.

There’s something about Pitch and Sandy that feels - epic. Like they were meant to find each other, in this life and the next. Like they’d found each other a thousand times before and still hadn’t tired of it.

“You’re daydreaming again,” North teases, his lips against her ear making her jump and nearly drop the glass she’s absent-mindedly polished to a mirror shine. The very fact North could sneak up on her was a sign of how deeply she’d been distracted.

“Sorry, I was away with the fairies again,” Tooth replies.

North wraps one hand around her waist, huge and warm and comforting, while the other takes the glass from her and deposits it on the work surface where it belongs. “Go watch. Get it out of your system.”

Tooth turns to face him, links her arms behind his neck and pulls him down into a deep kiss. “Have I told you how much I love you lately?”

“Da. Now go, I will watch Jack and Jamie and dishes.”

Tooth smirks, knowing North enjoys a quick glimpse at young and lithe creatures once in a while just as much as she does, but also knowing better than to point out how they’re exchanging a favour for a favour.

She steals one more kiss before walking into the public play room and finding Pitch bent over a chair rather than any of the custom-designed equipment, his back and ass and thighs all reddened by Sandy’s handiwork, and the immediate surge of heat between her legs tells her she’s made the right decision.

Pitch outright whimpers when Sandy shows him the cane he means to use on him next, but the cloth in Pitch’s hands doesn’t drop, and Tooth sits down to enjoy the show.

Something tells her they’re going to be playing for a long while yet, and she has every intention of staying until either she or Pitch can’t bear another second.


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January 2016

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