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Escort Di Feisheng

So, a while ago, @busarewski posted this pic of Xiao Shunyao on bluesky:

And that gave me... thoughts...

Like, what if Di Feisheng is sitting in the lobby of the fancy hotel where he fishes for clients. The desk staff are willing to look the other way for some cash or a blowjob, and they keep the free coffee hot and fresh for the guests. He sits in the overstuffed couches and distressed leather club chairs, dressed nicely but ever-so-slightly off. Those who know, know. To everyone else, he's just a young assistant, waiting for his boss.

So he's sitting there one day, sipping his coffee, stressed because he's got about 3 days to make rent, and he can go without a couple of meals, but if he doesn't manage to pick up a high rolling client soon, he's in trouble. When Li Lianhua comes marching through the lobby, annoyed. DFS notices him immediately--he's so pretty, but more, his suit is bespoke, his shoes are Italian leather, the watch he can see peeking out from his suit when he raises his arm is limited edition. He drips money and class. He's immediately followed by another guy--stupid facial hair, DFS thinks, and the sneer, the way he holds himself--DFS wouldn't agree to spend a night with him even if it meant losing his shithole apartment. The two of them are arguing, and really, everyone in the lobby is watching, either overt- or covertly. Until Li Lianhua says, "Look, I'm not discussing this further, I have shit to do. You--" and he points at Di Feisheng, who cocks his head in surprise, but stands smoothly, "have you finished that analysis?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just continues, "Let's go. I have a 4 o'clock."

This is... odd... but DFS is rolling with it. The guy clearly wants a prop to get away from Mr. Stupid Goatee, and he's not incapable of acting when warranted. (It's usually a different kind of role-play, but playing a corporate drone shouldn't tax his skills too far.) He crosses to stand next to the hot executive, murmurs something apologetic, and the guy waves an impatient hand and turns toward the door.

"You're kidding, right?" Stupid Goatee is smirking. "You're picking up a hooker on your way out?"

Before DFS says anything, Hot Exec turns the most freezing expression he's ever seen on Goatee. "Mr. Wang is one of the interns. If you came to the office now and then, you'd realize that and you wouldn't put us at risk for a sexual harassment suit." He turns to DFS looking terribly apologetic. "Mr. Wang, I apologize for my shixiong's insulting words."

The thing is, DFS gets the impression he really is sorry that his partner or colleague, or whatever was trying to be demeaning. (Trying, since DFS has heard pretty much every insult in the book and they roll off these days. He's alive, and that's what matters.) DFS is pretty certain that Hot Exec knows exactly what DFS does for a living, and further that he doesn't care, as long as he gets away from Stupid Goatee.

"It's fine," he says, glancing at Stupid Goatee, who is still smirking.

"It's not," Hot Exec says, "and Shi Shui will hear about this."

That wipes the smirk off the asshole's face, and Hot Exec turns and strides angrily across the lobby. He clearly expects to be followed, and DFS grabs his leather bag and hurries after him. Outside, the air is muggy, too warm, if they have to go any distance DFS will be sweating like a pig, but thankfully they quickly arrive at Hot Exec's... shit. That's a Maserati.

"Get in," he orders, and DFS does, settling into the leather seat, which seems to cradle him. The car is luxurious, everything gleaming. Hot Exec gets in after, then slumps, crossing his arms on the steering wheel and resting his forehead against them. "Fuck," he mutters. "Damn it."