
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/252737.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Inception_(2010)
  Relationship:
      Robert_Fischer/Saito_(Inception)
  Character:
      Robert_Fischer, Saito_(Inception), Maurice_Fischer, Peter_Browning
  Additional Tags:
      Community:_inception_kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-09-13 Words: 1638
****** but you pay the bill (cause that's the deal) ******
by ropememory
Notes
     Written for this_prompt on inception_kink. Also, concrit is welcome
     on this.
An important lesson that Saito learns early in his business career is that part
of the battle in a negotiation is knowing who to negotiate with. Right now, for
what Saito wants to accomplish, that person is Maurice Fisher.
“I’m willing to give you a controlling interest of the South American branch of
Proclus Global,” Saito says. It’s the smallest part of the company, but it at
least has some presence in the market whereas Fischer-Morrow has none. Saito
knows that already having a foot in the door is preferable to clawing your way
in, knows how much power this offer gives him.
“For... my son,” Fischer says. He sounds skeptical, like what Saito is offering
is too much for what he wants. He might be right in his skepticism, but Saito
wants something money shouldn’t be able to buy, wants an intangible power over
his rival.
Saito inclines his head. “His virginity.” He can lose the South American
branch. He’s got an idea on how to get it back later, anyway.
Saito doesn’t waver in his stare, and eventually Fischer reaches a conclusion.
“I’ll write up the paperwork. Once it’s signed, then he’s yours.” Fischer
stands, as does Saito, and after a brief handshake, Saito leaves. He’s gotten
what he wants, there’s no need to linger.
--
“I don’t... I don’t want to do this,” Robert says, arms crossed over his chest
as he’s hunched in on himself as much as possible. Even if he knows it won’t
matter, he thinks he should probably protest anyway.
“Unless you have a better counter offer, you’re doing it,” Maurice says. “It’s
a good deal for the company.”
And, christ, Robert’s sixteen. His biggest problem should be school, not his
father selling him off to the highest bidder for the good of the company. He
almost protests again, almost tries saying something else to get out of it, but
he knows what Maurice would say, then, and there’s no way he could do anything
besides what Maurice wants once “But you don’t want to disappoint me now, do
you, Robert?” enters into the conversation.
--
Robert’s sitting on the overstuffed, uncomfortable chair in the hotel room,
arms wrapped around his legs that are pulled up against him, waiting. There’s a
guard outside the door, either to make sure Robert doesn’t run away or that no
one dies during what everyone besides Robert seems to be viewing as a normal
business transaction. Robert’s certain it’s mostly the first one, though.
He’s got on slacks and a button down, and his socks are still on, but his hair
is long enough to flop into his face since it isn’t gelled back. Robert thinks
he’s dressed more for an office than some elicit sexual encounter, but Maurice
had insisted business was business and no one wears jeans to a board meeting.
Robert’s pretty sure no one brings condoms and lube to a board meeting, either,
but those are sitting on the night stand mocking him.
Robert had unplugged the clock after five minutes had gone by and felt like
days. He didn’t want to know how much time had actually passed, how long he
would be used as nothing more than a bargaining chip.
When the door finally opens, Robert doesn’t jump in surprise, but he doesn’t
get out of the chair, either. If he’s got to go through with this thing, he’s
not going to make it any easier than it already has been.
Saito’s wearing a suit, complete with jacket, tie and waistcoat. Robert doesn’t
have much experience with Saito, so he doesn’t know if this is normal attire or
dressing up, but it doesn’t matter what Saito’s wearing, because Robert won’t
be getting out of the room until Saito’s satisfied.
“Hello, Robert,” Saito says, holding out a hand. Robert doesn’t want to take
it, doesn’t want to leave the chair. Saito keeps his hand out, though, with an
eyebrow raised. “There’s no need to be petulant.”
Robert doesn’t know what to say to that, wants to deny it. Instead, he uncurls,
stands up and heads over to the bed, walking by Saito’s outstretched hand.
“Let’s just get this over with,” he says. The quicker they start, the quicker
Robert can focus on forgetting all about it.
“Don’t you want to know why?” Saito asks, taking off his jacket.
The part of Robert that wants to know is overshadowed by a need to keep the
entire encounter vague. If Robert finds out why, then there’s no alternate
conclusions he can come to, no way to cope by pretending it wasn’t
premeditated. In the time Robert takes the shake his head “no,” Saito’s taken
his shoes off and pulled down the comforter on the bed.
Saito runs a hand from Robert’s shoulder to the top button of his shirt. “May
I?” Saito asks.
Robert isn’t sure he could do it himself, anyway, so he nods and lets Saito
undress him.
“On your back,” Saito says, once he’s gotten Robert’s clothes off.
Robert doesn’t want that, doesn’t want to have to see what’s going on or have
Saito see him--he’d much rather have his face smushed into the pillow, because
he thinks it would be easier to pretend to be somewhere else, someone else that
way. Instead of protesting, though, Robert does what he’s told. At the very
least, no one can say he doesn’t know how to follow directions. Saito follows
him onto the bed, still fully clothed except for his jacket and shoes.
“This might hurt,” Saito says as he puts lube on his fingers, before moving his
hand down so a finger can press against Robert’s ass, insistent in its demand
for entry.
Robert tries to relax, knows it’ll hurt less if he does, but Saito’s fingers
inside him feel awkward and uncomfortable and he can’t. He doesn’t look down at
Saito, keeps his eyes on the ceiling and tries to breathe. And it’s fine, it’s
getting better, until he sees Saito in his periphery leaning over to the table
to get the condom. Robert’s abruptly brought back to the fact that Saito’s here
specifically to have sex with him, and he panics and tenses up again.
Everything’s louder, now that Robert’s paying attention. He can hear Saito’s
belt, button and zipper being undone, can hear the rustle of fabric as Saito
pushes his pants down. The crinkle of plastic as the condom’s being opened
almost has Robert getting out of the bed and leaving, but there’s the guard and
his father and leaving’s not an option for him.
Robert grips the sheets, head turned to the side with his eyes closed as Saito
slowly pushes into him, Saito’s arm is pressing against Robert’s legs to keep
them up against Robert’s chest. Robert’s teeth are biting his bottom lip so he
doesn’t let out a whine. Might was a damn lie, he thinks. His father’s
disappointment would probably hurt less. At least that would be a pain he’s
used to.
Once Saito gets into a sort of rhythm, the pain is no longer an overwhelming
sensation so much as a dull throb. Robert’s grip on the sheets lessens as Saito
moves in and out of him, but his head stays turned and his eyes stay closed.
There’s not much noise in the room besides the low hum of the air conditioner
and the harsh pants of Saito’s breath. If Robert’s making any noise, it doesn’t
register to him. The tears, though, register as a vague dampness.
“Look at me,” Saito says, hand moving up to the side of Robert’s face, making
Robert turn his head. His thumb trails across Robert’s cheek, disrupts the path
his tears were taking. “Open your eyes.” Robert does, but only because Saito’s
stopped moving, because Saito’s pressed into him far enough that Robert can
feel that Saito's still clothed and everything is a slow, small movement, and
those are worse, they make it harder for Robert to think about something else.
Saito says something that Robert can’t understand, and his thumb moves to
Robert’s lips. When Robert opens them to take Saito’s thumb into his mouth,
Saito gives him a small smile and a soft “Very good.” Robert closes his eyes
again, pretends he wants to be doing this, pretends he’s actually gotten into
it, and that seems to work well enough, because Saito starts moving and doesn’t
tell Robert to open his eyes again.
Robert doesn’t keep track of how long it takes Saito to finally come, but by
the time he does with a short grunt, the fabric moving against Robert’s skin is
starting to feel like the beginning of a rug burn.
Saito pulls out once his cock has softened some, and the bed creaks a little as
he gets off it to head to the bathroom. Robert can’t decide if he should curl
up on his side or get up and get dressed. He wants to take a shower, but that’s
not an option at the moment.
The sound of a faucet turning off stalls any action Robert might take, and then
Saito’s back in the room.
“Thank you,” Saito says as he’s putting back on his shoes and jacket.
Robert can’t return the sentiment, but he’s spared having to when Saito leaves
the hotel room shortly thereafter. With Saito gone, Robert lets himself sob,
and he does end up curled in on himself, the lingering physical pain not nearly
as bad as the emotional.
--
“I have no idea how your father pulled it off, but somehow he got the company
into South America,” Browning says when Robert runs into him the next morning.
“Yeah, great,” Robert replies. He thinks maybe getting rid of the South
American branch will be the first thing he does if he ever takes over Fischer-
Morrow.
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