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“You're a real brave one coming all the way over here, Mr. Kuro. You seem like you're in desperate need of help.”
Froot finagled with the shot-glass in her hands, contemplating her next drink. The lich/femme d'affaires was in the midst of a short-planned meeting with someone she had somewhat of a loose connection with.
The barely audible, muffled thumps of rainfall accompanied the atmosphere of the evening as she settled down with her latest 'client in need': Kaizoku Kuro, a quirky pirate who was, much like Ms. Froot, loosely associated with being undead and Bri'ish (and he might also be part dog, hard to say)
He personally felt a little bit out of place in the scenery, what with the lowkey blueness shaded by the sensual orange of the fireplace, compared to his almost 'edgelordy' blacks and reds... “Yeah, uh... I wouldn't exactly call myself 'desperate', but—”
“It doesn't cost extra to be honest about yourself here~” Ms. Froot reminded.
Kuro shrugged. “...whatever – make of me what you want; I just want someone to have my back in case I get in trouble. Again.”
“Hehehe... look, there's a lot of people you could've gotten in touch with that would've been more 'cryptic' with you just because they find more profit beating around the bush rather than being upfront...”
Froot slowly slid off the silky, spike-decorated jacket as she got situated to the comfort. “I'm not like most~ so long as we agree on the payment process, I'll hang onto you as long as you need me.”
“Payment? Shit, it doesn't have to be physical stuff right?” Kuro internally panicked at the uncertainty. “D-do you do PayPal by any chan—”
“Shhh...” Froot grazed a gloved hand over Kuro's lips – before he had fully noticed in the midst of his scramble, she had gotten up from the couch on her side of the room and walked up to him. “It doesn't always have to mean money.”
She giggled sinfully as she let a couple of her fingers walk down on Kuro from his shoulder to somewhere closer to his waist.
“If anything, I just need one simple thing from you, Kuro.”
“Yeah?”
“...Tell me I'm beautiful.”
A faint blush fought establishment upon Kuro's face as he picked his words carefully.
“Darling, you're a smokeshow~”
Ms. Froot, ever so slightly simple underneath the professional vibes, blinked twice. “...That's a good term, right?”
“It means you're fucking hot, Froot,” replied Kuro.
Froot held off another giggle, a little bit caught offguard by the bluntness, but still retaining her general 'professionalism'. “Please – just call me Apri.”
Without even attempting to look back, Froot clung her hands around the back of Kuro's neck and raised a leg backwards to sweep the pieces off the chessboard sitting on the table in-between the couches.
It may have made a mess with all the pieces hitting and rolling on the floor, sure, but it was the best way to ensure safety, as she pulled him down with her while planting her back upon the table – rather roughly, however, based on the brief wince on Froot's face as her arms slightly tightened around Kuro, nearly smothering him a bit in her bosom.
“I'm fine,” she strained out, the moment she noticed the slight concern on her 'client's face.
On the other end, Kuro couldn't help but keep oogling down on the unignorable boob-window that Ms. Froot was providing with how unbuttoned her shirt was underneath the vest.
“You know... I think I got a real good idea why you have your shirt open like that.”
Froot grinned mischevously. “Guilty as charged~”
But before they could get anywhere close to 'sealing the deal'...
“Again, guys?”
The two darted their heads towards the third, unfamiliar, voice interrupting them – that being of AmaLee, the multiversal mafioso monarch, walking in on her two visiting friends' nearly-smutty hijinks going on in her study.
She sighed, frustrated. “I thought we had a rule about using my place for your weird foreplay ideas whenever you came over.”
The utter kayfabe of the scene now completely stomped on by the Scuff Queen before them, Froot and Kuro scampered the hell off of each other and off the chessboard table, completely breaking away from their fantastical romance scenario.
Kuro was the first of the two to open his mouth, trying to state their case. “Alright... to be fair... Froot here really got into character—augh!”
After very casually whapping Kuro in the frank-and-beans, Froot quickly went to bowing in respect and forgiveness. “We're so sorry, Ms. Monarch~”
“I swear we've had this song-and-dance before,” AmaLee responded. “I would say 'get a room' but I'm pretty sure you two both already have homes – you just don't use them for stuff like this for some reason!”
“Right – let's leave then, Froot...”
Kuro draped an arm around the lich, his other hand still occupying his possibly-bruised undercarriage. “I think we can take the hint this time.”
And so the two undead Brits scampered out of the room, and ultimately out of the Monarch's beloved house, as she surveyed the little bit of damaged caused by the attempt at NSFW hijinks that went on.
“Man... the chess pieces are all over the place...”
...
Moments later, once they were outside AmaLee's residence, Froot and Kuro still had one more exchange regarding what went down.
“Kuro, do you think I'm finally starting to get the whole 'sexy sinister businesswoman' character down?”
“I dunno, Froot; you tell me...”
“...Kuro, I'd rather have words; I don't think your boner would speak for itself.”