[Did you ever think to yourself, "Hmm, I'd like to see Cody and Zane in a courtesan AU of sex and woe"? No? Good.]
"I'll just be right over there, darling--need to step out for a bit. You know where to find me."The words rolled soft and sweet off of Cody's tongue into the curve of Ken Crane's ear, his hands brushing out a wrinkle in the man's dress shirt. Met with a hum of approval and a nod, Cody slipped away from the crowd of men with business suits and little cocktails and wandered to the fringes of the crowd. Cody supposed, in a way, he was quite lucky. Mr. Crane was a fine client, a kind and good-looking man of great wealth and stature, both physical and in the eyes of other business owners. He paid well, he treated Cody to a myriad of comforts, and the only real cost to Cody was doing his job with a brighter smile than usual, for the sake of the cameras. Cody hated crowds for sure; always had, always will. But with Ken's affluence came a certain cost of publicity, which, granted, was precisely what Cody's job description offered: an escape route of sorts for men with more straying orientations than what the societal norms allow, and a mask of normalcy for the cameras. Cody's androgynous appearance served him well; either the media was just playing along, or no one was any the wiser to Cody's masculine gender, save for Mr. Crane himself, and the latter knew it very well.
However, Mr. Crane was very particular in his tastes and desires. A real Type-A personality, and it clashed a bit with Cody's own. Unusually, Mr. Crane had picked out the dress Cody was to wear; an elegant black thing with lace sleeves and a swooping neckline, just modest enough to hide the fact that it held a flat, bony chest beneath it. People were fooled. People saw what they wanted to see--they saw a boy, yes, but their insecurity, their aversion to curiosity prevented them from assuming anything but woman. There had been a time in Cody's childhood that this had bothered him. Now, he thanked his lucky stars, for each successful public appearance was another check in his bank account. And, he supposed... they looked good together, the two of them. Mr. Crane was a tall, dark man with a gentle hand and a heart far too big for a business owner. Whenever Cody took on the other half, the darker half of his job, once the man was spent and strung out and Cody was anything but impressed, Ken would run a trembling hand through Cody's long blond locks and would tell Cody he loved him.
Cody couldn't bring himself to even begin to feel a scrap of what Mr. Crane apparently did. With each heavy hand on his shoulder, every trailing touch on his waist, Cody could feel the man's tethers strapping him down. Oh, yes, Cody would play for awhile longer--it wasn't unbearable yet. There was nothing genuine about the lavish gifts and banquets that Cody was presented with and dragged to. If things got worse... Cody would just find a new client. But then, that heavily depended on said availability for a very particular kind of client--the one who would need the services Cody offered.
Trifling things Cody hardly wanted to think about, all of it. At present he was about a quarter of the way towards tipsy and he wanted something to eat to stave off the light headache kissing the back of his skull. Heeled shoes tapping dully on the regal carpeted floor, Cody separated himself from the chatter and clinking of glasses until he reached a small dessert table, and he picked up the last of the small brownies on a platter and nibbled on the corner, leaning a hip against the table in thought. Well, at the very least... the food was very nice.
