Work Text:
(the title is a lyric from 'hotel room service' by pitbull)
When your friend had told you that she was passing on the opportunity of freely staying in a five-star resort on a paradise on Earth location that her aunt owned, because her aunt wanted her ‘to earn her stay’ through symbolically handling a few chores around the resort, you had ask her whether her aunt would be fine with you coming in her stead.
Apparently, the answer had been positive, and you had been thoroughly enjoying your stating: the hours of work weren’t that heavy, so you could enjoy the beach.
Even regularly enough that by three weeks in your mood had improved and you were looking every inch the local and by now the ladies that inhabited the resort all summer long they had invited you to their bridge matches on your nights off.
In all truth, as much as the beach was amazing, you hadn’t spent too many nights ‘living la vida loca’, as the resort offered a more family-friendly amusement and as much as you weren’t brought down by the manual labor through your work hours, by the end of your turn you’d be too tired to catch a taxi and go out with the other girls working the hotel.
Still, your staying was nice, and a free vacation was what you needed after a long year in college, awaiting patiently to recharge for your last year as such a thing would entail you seeking out and deciding what you wanted to do after.
Finding a job seemed much farther apart when you were drinking a mojito on the beach on your day off.
Your staying was nice and perfect, except for one thing: Aegon Targaryen.
Having Targaryens staying at the resort was like having a visit from the fucking queen, although you had an inkling that it was because – if you thought about it – Targaryen were modern royalty.
Their empire went back to the start for the previous century and now had been built and spread through different fields and departments.
In a few words, any move was looked attentively and any possibility of a good publicity was based onto the quality of your service, which in turn had you, as well as the entirety of the staff, stressed to the point that you had once woken up in the middle of the night because you hadn’t left an extra – extra – set of towels in the room.
And obviously aside from being pretentious assholes, the lot of them, you had your own nemesis in the eldest son of the family, Aegon Targaryen.
You had to admit that he hit every inch of your type with his full figure and slightly pudgy features that made you want to dig your skin in his softness.
Instead, you just dug your nails in your palm as you caught him having the worst manners ever, while he licked off peach juice off his fingers in a way that you could only describe as suggestive.
You had, once, glanced on his way during such an act and might have held his gaze enough to be caught and since then, Aegon Targaryen had made it his own personal mission to embarrass you by eating his food in the most suggestive way possible while making sure to look right through you when you were handling service.
It was starting to get you in trouble, as you’d find yourself distracted – indeed forgetting extra-extra towels – and you had thought to eradicate the whole thing from the start; you switched turns with a few colleagues making it so that you wouldn’t be handling any meals in the dining room and instead stayed to help in the kitchen or at the beach.
Especially, you had avoided getting any turns to clean his room.
So, far you had been able not to take onto such a task, volunteering yourself for the turns that nobody wished to deal with, but a last-minute emergency got you to cover for a colleague of your own and having to face the same guest that was making your stay there, unbearable.
Still, you did believe in some sense of duty, and you didn’t wish to displease your employer and you knew that nobody else would have been available at that hour, in that turn.
Hence you rubbed one off before coming into the room, this way you’d be sure that your own horniness wouldn’t have blocked you from being your usual efficient self, even with the guest that got your tummy to do backflips and stared so rudely at you.
You didn’t see the ‘do not disturb’ ticket – although you’d have hoped so – and swiftly moved inside after having knocked and having called out Aegon’s full name, just to be sure.
You got no answer, thinking clearly the guest was out of the room.
Either enjoying a lengthy breakfast or the beach.
Still, the moment that you went inside of the room you heard it: the sound of a shower going and immediately you worried of having gotten into the worst time possible as the sole thought of that man naked, it got you to feel heady.
But you had to be a professional and taking in the – awful – scene in front of you as you realized that the room wouldn’t need only a simple cleaning but a whole deep one.
Clothes were left everywhere, and a suitcase was pushed down, halfway spread with all its contents falling as a whole cemetery of various takeout boxes surrounded the entirety of the bed, enough that you wondered whether you’d have found some in the sheets.
The sole thought got your stomach to turn.
A messy personality was certainly a huge turn off and even thought you knew he was simply in the shower, you started to collect and tidy out around thinking that if he had been snippy with you, you’d have told him that you had done everything according to the policy: you had knocked, called out his name and he didn’t have the ‘do not disturb’ sign on.
The whole cleaning process would have taken far more than it was proper, and you wondered how he had been able to destroy the whole room in a day, unless your previous colleagues hadn’t properly cleaned the room, although you doubted it knowing the standards at which every room was kept.
Even more for such special guests.
You settled into a comfortable silence as fifteen minutes passed, when you heard it: a thrill and baritone scream that pierced through the room from the bathroom and immediately you thought the worst of it, believing that he might have fallen onto his ass or slipped on the soap.
Still, no crashing came and although you knew it wasn’t proper, you swiftly moved inside acting on your instincts.
The bathroom door was unlocked, and you were quiet as you sneaked inside, not wishing to make him aware of your presence, had it been something silly and hadn’t you found him with his head smashed open after slipping onto the expensive soap bar that you had to replace.
Still, it wasn’t exactly something silly as the scene in front of you unfolded.
Aegon Targaryen was currently showering – that much had been right – but he was also pushing himself back into what looked like a black dildo, plastered to the shower walls, while stroking himself with a perfect timing that got you thinking that what you had tperceived a scream was simply a loud moan.
Now, you should have expected it and still, you couldn’t deny that it took you aback.
You’d have, in the future, blamed it all on the shock of having just found your crush and utter nemesis, jerking off as if there was no fucking tomorrow.
He pushed himself back against the dildo, grinding himself right in that specific spot that got his body to tense up while his grip loosened on his cock till it fell right through.
You couldn’t help but be immediately charmed by the veiny creature, with a reddish tip and all shiny both of water and creamy and thick precum that you wished to immediately lick off, as you noticed a few trails of it attaching to his tummy once his cock bumped into it.
A soft tummy, much bigger than the one you had seen underneath clothes with a light trail of goldenish hair that made you want to squish it as you jerked Aegon off.
‘He is a client!’ your mind tried to remind you, as you noticed that his hand came again to his cock and you felt the telltale shrill of arousal that got you to feel all flustered and brush your legs together to lighten the tension as you thought that rubbing one off, hadn’t done much to you.
You were still horrendously horny, even more as you took in the sturdy, but thick thighs, that tensed and trembled while he leaned further into the wall, pressing the fake dick into himself, before slumping forward and the dildo flopped down as it exited him with an almost violence.
It shone through with what you only assumed was water and lube as Aegon, rubbed the curve of his ass against it and twisted lightly his hand on his cock, each time it reached its leaking tip, although there was something almost tortuous in such a movement and you wondered whether he was staving off an orgasm.
The water fell onto him, further slicking him up as his thick and curly hair stuck to his face in a further depiction of desperation.
Could you have done this without any consequences, you might have gone on your knees and suckled that dick, while he pushed himself against the dildo in a desperate ride.
Still, the surprises weren’t over as you tried to collect yourself and move away from such a sight, because as attractive as it was, you were straight up disrupting a client’s privacy and these people paid for the secrecy and as much as you hadn’t anything against the pretty chubby boy giving himself some manual relief, you felt like you shouldn’t have been there.
Had you been caught, it’d have been a whole lot of mess.
That’s why when you heard your name being called out in a desperate cry, you thought the worst of it, immediately turning to see whether you had been caught but the man seemed as far away as possible from you, stuck in his own mind as he called out again your name, dreamily and shyly.
Almost reverently.
He was masturbating to you.
The thought shouldn’t have surprised you as much as you had thought: you did have a cute badge that spelt it out for any client to scream at you to have anything brought to them while they lounged in peace.
Still, you were surprised that he had caught onto it although it was clear that he had made it always so that you’d be always embarrassed, you wondered whether it was some fucked up kind of foreplay.
Especially when he sang your name so prettily while he fucked himself and twisted his wrist to stroke himself with a swiftness that called out for whole years of fucking experience.
“… fuck…” he gritted his teeth as he leaned back wholly, pushing back inside the dildo in one swift motion that got him clenching and unclenching his thighs as he adjusted to the stretch, since the size wasn’t beginner.
But neither was he.
“… fucking bitch. I betcha that you think me disgusting don’t cha?”.
Was he talking to you?
Still, your name being called out as a hand went up his chest to tease a nipple reassured you that you were the sole member of the staff that he thought about.
It was strangely flattering.
“… too fat for you, ain’t I? Always staring at my fucking fatass. All fucking judgy and gorgeous” and as he moved to thrust himself, much faster than before he hurled out “… wish it’d be fucking you. Being a bitch like this… making me your bitch…”.
Well, you couldn’t help but think that there had been a misunderstanding between the two of you, as it was evident that he thought that your long – longing – stares were judgement.
Not you admiring his pudgy and taunt physique that made you wonder to be slammed against the wall, although Aegon much preferred that you’d have done this to him.
Not that it was a problem.
“I am going to…”.
His grip onto his dick was lost as he thrusted up in the air and for a moment you saw the image: him pushing into you while he fucked himself onto the dildo.
The sole thought got you utterly slicked as you wondered whether there’d be a stain on your skirt
“… fuck… fucking … bitch… fucking take it”.
And like that he painted the glass of the shower wholly white with his own spend.
What a waste, you couldn’t help but think as the man turned off the shower, although you were quite sure that he was far dirtier than before and you were caught off-guard as his eyes meet your own, staring at him from behind the door.
No way to get out, although you didn’t want to.
Not when you know that he thought about you while he touched himself.
And that you either got off by your own hand at that image or you used him to the max.
He still warmed the fake dick although it slipped outside of him with a sound ‘pop’ as he hissed lightly at the movement, and you wondered whether he felt empty.
Too empty , the poor boy.
“I…” he spoke as he sought out for a justification before settling onto a disgruntled gaze that barely reached his aftershock painted on it “… what are you doing here?”.
“I thought that… you might need some help”.
And as if you hadn’t just breeched a client’s privacy and disrupted a whole lot of rules of the hotel, actively risking being fired, your hand darted to his limp member, hearing him ass you felt the stickiness inside of it and the heat of the water.
That boy liked it hot.
Apparently.
“… and I was right”.
You stroked him gently, as he hadn’t enjoyed the afterwaves of his orgasm.
He was oversensitive and you saw the way his uncured nails dug further into his palm, probably due to the mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through him.
And he hadn’t felt enough as you slithered a hand onto his full ass, groping it gently before you swatted a cheek and he squeaked, like a fucking pig.
Your fingers found his hole all too easily, still loosen by him playing with the toy.
“Don’t you need a hand, Mr. Targaryen?” you further teased him as he surrenderer all too easily “…after all, didn’t I hear you call out my name”.