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Theory of Monopoly	By : sherlock Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > InuYasha/Sessh?maru > InuYasha/Sessh?maru Views: 5576 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, nor do I profit from this story in any way.

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Every theory has criteria, or rules. Here're the rules to the theory of monopoly.
Warnings are in order: expect lots of angst, sexual innuendo, sadistic personalities, witty banter which will require you to read between the lines, and some pretty deep shit.

Theory of Monopoly
Beggars Can't Be Choosers

He never understood why or how people thought they had any right to judge anyone. None of the people he's ever met (and he's met plenty) were perfectly clean. Clean in the sense that they'd never done anything remotely immoral, socially unacceptable, or just downright stupid. He'd yet to meet someone who had never taken risks before, so who gave them the right to judge? Inuyasha had long ago decided that every fucking human being on this planet was a hypocrite, but he'd try his damn hardest not to be. It'd bring nothing but trouble first of all, but if he delved deeper inside himself than he felt comfortable, he'd find it was really because he wasn't exactly a model citizen himself—far from it actually—and that he had absolutely no merit to say anything about anyone. After all, he was a whore, albeit a somewhat high-end one.
He had started because of his dying mother, who had fought liver cancer for a good five years before she died three years ago. For seven years he'd been selling himself. He thought he'd be able to quit anytime, but like all shady businesses, it was easier said than done.
There were more reasons to continue than to stop, really. After his mother had died, sex became an addiction—a reckless but numbing mechanism he chose and embraced for the lack of a better and available one. It had been easy enough to continue, with the temptation of money and attention and fuck, the brain-stopping physiological responses were all he thought he wanted—needed. And in those five years he battled alongside his mother, he had gained an impressive number of wealthy clients with his even more impressive skills.
He had considered returning to the track of the clean and proper, and had even been one step away from it. But then his poor but necessary choices caught up to him and he'd been expelled from medical school and ousted from all the social niches he'd ever felt truly at peace within, the ones that still had memories of his mother. Corruption gradually engulfed him and suddenly, all too soon, he realized there was no way back. He had seen and would never forget the filth that defined being human. He was on his own, and he'd been looking forward ever since.
Tonight, he was with a new client. Someone he's already decided he'd never accept again for sprouting all these fucking feelings of self-pity out of him and reminding him of all the shitty aspects of his job he absolutely hated. God, connections were a scary thing sometimes. The john pounding mindlessly into him right now had heard of him from a regular client of his, who had insisted he take on the new client despite his zealous reluctance. He'd been assured he wouldn't regret it, that the guy had deep pockets, yadda yadda, all bullshit Inuyasha now realized had really meant take the fucking kid as your client or I'm going to lose face, and there's no fucking why I'm losing face because of a whore; should you refuse, say goodbye to my money. This would all be no problem really, if the spoiled, rich brat—Inuyasha thinks his name is Carter maybe? He's having a hard time remembering with all the white noise behind his eyes—had any solid sexual experience. With males.
He'd probably be laughing at the irony if the pain wasn't being amplified by the lewd thuds of skin slapping against skin at an insane frequency.
Inuyasha's erection had long since gone limp, not that Carter / fucking brat cared in his virgin-like sex crazed frenzy, but he would will through the agony and tighten himself at just the right moments, moaning like an animal because Carter / fucking brat seemed to be into that kind of thing. Going by the passionate, vulgar accusations being barked hoarsely into his ear, Inuyasha was sure he'd be going home with tips tonight. Tonight, he reiterated mentally because there was no way in hell he was going to stay to wait on the possibility of morning sex.
When the guy finally met release—inside him for god's sake, what the fucking hell—and rolled off of him, Inuyasha moved slowly out of bed to collect his things scattered off the pristine, cold floor of the five-star hotel room. He normally allowed himself to a shower and some rest (if only to make it all seem less of a…transaction ) but right now, the sooner he got out of there, the better. The client was just a shitty kid, probably half a decade younger than him, spoiled and with no real-world experience in him. Obviously a pathetic wuss too, or else he wouldn't have tried getting some ass through a business partner. These types were the worst. If Inuyasha was naïve enough to stay any longer, he was sure the kid's impulsiveness and revived audacity would rip him a new one just as a newfound testament to the kind of power his money could bring him. His instincts were practically screaming danger. So when the client was at least somewhat coherent, he just stuck out his hand, waited to receive his tip, and then bolted out of there as fast as his wobbly legs could take him.
By the time Inuyasha arrived home, it was already three in the morning and he ached all over. Fearing an incoming migraine, he was tempted to crash onto his bed and sleep it all off, but the dull pain from earlier didn't allow him the liberty. So he trudged slowly to the shower, cleaned himself as best he could without causing further injuries, then crawled gingerly under the covers without bothering to dry his hair. Only then did he dream.
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Theory of Monopoly