[AIM Log] [Venus Envy] [Kankurou + Anko] [Closed]
Warnings: Porn lingo. ♥
Nervous wasn’t something that bothered Kankurou. Having had already woken early, he went about his usual morning routine of making himself up. The usual dark kohl applied to his eyes, dark wine liquid eyeliner applied to the inner flats of his eyelids which always made them tear up at first. It made them look raw. A layer of chartreuse beneath black on his lips purposely smeared to the left side and beneath which made for a ruffled, after-sex look. That, coupled with what looked like a black and red gunshot wound beneath his jaw on the right side made the lip smearing look like the blood he’d coughed up.
Taking the band of black cloth from his hair to hold it back, he flat ironed the now-dried strands until they hung in merciless jags about his face. Dressed in his usual black regalia of contrasting textures and straps, he grabbed his resume, school schedule and keys before leaving his room.
The walk was ridiculously short; this job’s location would be much more convenient than the trip to campus. Without hesitation he entered the shop with its little rocket insignia, obsidian orbs taking in the atmosphere. It actually looked pretty nice, inviting even. Touching his tongue to his left eyetooth in thought, he made his way to the counter and the woman who was pretty much as visually jarring as he was. That brought a smirk to his lips.
“Hey. Are you Anko?”
"I am. Are you Satan?"
The day had been relatively slow. Apparently, the Sabbath was not the best day for shopping for erotic products. Too ironic, probably--going to church to have sins purged and then shopping for new sins right after. In short, there'd been no customers that day. Until this guy.
Anko blatantly stared at the young man, trying to find the face beneath the make up. If she hadn't found the whole idea of goth make-up so pretentious, she might have been intimidated. But probably not.
"No, wait. Kank..something."
“Kankurou.”
He snorted at the Satan comment before settling his resume on the counter. It was actually pretty good, despite his looks, with his actually going to college and majoring in Political Science and the long time he spent assisting. Though the whole firing part was surely a strike against him.
“I’m in school right now but my nights are generally open and weekends entirely free. Tuesdays I have two classes from ten to twelve and four to six-thirty, so those are pretty much off the table.”
He set the printout of class times on the counter above the resume. “I need about a half-hour gap between class times and being scheduled to work, if you take me on.”
He looked her over briefly before catching her eyes.
“I take it the dress code isn’t too strict.”
She glanced down at herself, eyebrow raised. Really, today's get-up was downright conservative according to her standards. A black and white horizontal-striped shirt and a pair of black stretch pants tucked into combat boots and accessorized with a bullet belt made her outfit. Her hair had been spiked.
"There's not really much of a dress code as long as your cock's not hanging out.... Let's see here...."
She pulled the resume and time chart closer, skimming it before crumpling both and tossing it behind her.
"That shit doesn't really matter. Do you have any practical experience with this shit?" She gestured to the shelves and shelves of pornography and sex toys.
This time Kankurou’s eyebrows rose. Well, he could definitely deal with a job with fewer boundaries like this. He screwed up his face slightly, vision following her gesticulations before looking back to her.
“Eh, I know my porn. Extensive kinks I guess, so I know what I’m talking about and I’m not shy about it, either. Haven’t ever done anything like this but I’m sure I could adapt pretty quickly. I can handle people if I have to.”
He smirked then, looking around the shop and noting the distinct lack of patrons at the moment.
“Slow Sundays here, I take it?”
"No one wants to buy porn on church days. But anyway. You're hired."
She crouched behind the counter, opening a drawer and rummaging through its contents before she pulled out a nametag attached to a string necklace. Maybe, if this were another store, said nametag would have glowed. Maybe the clouds would have parted and angels would have sung a chorus. But since this was a porn store, none of the above happened. She pulled a sticker gun out from the same box.
"Kankurou's too long. We're going to call you KANK."
Inside, Kankurou would have jumped for joy if the inner him wasn’t as averse to displaying happiness as he was. He could afford cigarettes now, and start saving again. Surely Temari would be too happy about the former, but since he wasn’t allowed to smoke in his room anymore he’d probably be smoking less anyways. Just so long as he could get his fix when he needed it, Kankurou would be content and less prone to snapping at the tiniest thing like a PMSing woman.
Though he did scowl at the nickname.
“‘KANK?’ Maa...what about ‘Kan’? My sister calls me that sometimes.”
It was way too fucking cute for his tastes, but ‘Kank’ sounded like a sexually-transmitted disease. Somehow, he had the feeling that the nickname had already stuck, and it was better than some others he’d received. He took the moment to hate his old man for giving him such a long name; even Temari’s was easier despite having the same amount of syllables. He made the mental note to try his hardest to simply live through customers calling him that and not throttle them.
“So what’re my responsibilities?”
"You'll have to take inventory, rotate the displays once a week, and work the register while I take care of customers. People might not wanna fuck with you at first. The regulars'll get used to you, though."
She printed out his new name--KANK--and stuck it onto the nametag, straightening it out with almost comical reverence. She slid it across the counter.
"Also, you'll have to keep a straight face when an old couple comes in here to buy dildos."
“Sounds good to me.”
He looked at his nametag with a face like he was accepting wearing a dress. Nevertheless he took it, making a mental note to give it some slack later so the tag would hang lower at his ribs which would both look better and be harder to see.
Then he looked at her and paled, if that were possible--luckily his make up covered that up effectively.
“Er, how often does that happen?”
"Enough for you to have nightmares. It's not just dildos, either. Edible panties, massage lotions, edible paints, anal beads, pornography...anything to bring back the spark." She spoke with an air of boredom, ticking off the items the elderly usually bought on her hand. "But a customer's a customer."
She pointed toward a door in the back. "The bathrooms and the break room is back there. We'll have your schedule and everything ready in a week, so if you can come back then, I'll give you a proper tour and shit."
Kankurou grimaced. “I’ll keep the straight face in mind, then.”
He nodded and slipped his hands in his back pockets--having to dodge a dangling chain for one of them.
“All right, great, and thanks. I’ll see you ‘round the building until then, probably.”
He nodded his head to her and made his leave, deciding that he’d go creep out Gaara by talking about elderly couples and their anal beads the moment he got home.
Nervous wasn’t something that bothered Kankurou. Having had already woken early, he went about his usual morning routine of making himself up. The usual dark kohl applied to his eyes, dark wine liquid eyeliner applied to the inner flats of his eyelids which always made them tear up at first. It made them look raw. A layer of chartreuse beneath black on his lips purposely smeared to the left side and beneath which made for a ruffled, after-sex look. That, coupled with what looked like a black and red gunshot wound beneath his jaw on the right side made the lip smearing look like the blood he’d coughed up.
Taking the band of black cloth from his hair to hold it back, he flat ironed the now-dried strands until they hung in merciless jags about his face. Dressed in his usual black regalia of contrasting textures and straps, he grabbed his resume, school schedule and keys before leaving his room.
The walk was ridiculously short; this job’s location would be much more convenient than the trip to campus. Without hesitation he entered the shop with its little rocket insignia, obsidian orbs taking in the atmosphere. It actually looked pretty nice, inviting even. Touching his tongue to his left eyetooth in thought, he made his way to the counter and the woman who was pretty much as visually jarring as he was. That brought a smirk to his lips.
“Hey. Are you Anko?”
"I am. Are you Satan?"
The day had been relatively slow. Apparently, the Sabbath was not the best day for shopping for erotic products. Too ironic, probably--going to church to have sins purged and then shopping for new sins right after. In short, there'd been no customers that day. Until this guy.
Anko blatantly stared at the young man, trying to find the face beneath the make up. If she hadn't found the whole idea of goth make-up so pretentious, she might have been intimidated. But probably not.
"No, wait. Kank..something."
“Kankurou.”
He snorted at the Satan comment before settling his resume on the counter. It was actually pretty good, despite his looks, with his actually going to college and majoring in Political Science and the long time he spent assisting. Though the whole firing part was surely a strike against him.
“I’m in school right now but my nights are generally open and weekends entirely free. Tuesdays I have two classes from ten to twelve and four to six-thirty, so those are pretty much off the table.”
He set the printout of class times on the counter above the resume. “I need about a half-hour gap between class times and being scheduled to work, if you take me on.”
He looked her over briefly before catching her eyes.
“I take it the dress code isn’t too strict.”
She glanced down at herself, eyebrow raised. Really, today's get-up was downright conservative according to her standards. A black and white horizontal-striped shirt and a pair of black stretch pants tucked into combat boots and accessorized with a bullet belt made her outfit. Her hair had been spiked.
"There's not really much of a dress code as long as your cock's not hanging out.... Let's see here...."
She pulled the resume and time chart closer, skimming it before crumpling both and tossing it behind her.
"That shit doesn't really matter. Do you have any practical experience with this shit?" She gestured to the shelves and shelves of pornography and sex toys.
This time Kankurou’s eyebrows rose. Well, he could definitely deal with a job with fewer boundaries like this. He screwed up his face slightly, vision following her gesticulations before looking back to her.
“Eh, I know my porn. Extensive kinks I guess, so I know what I’m talking about and I’m not shy about it, either. Haven’t ever done anything like this but I’m sure I could adapt pretty quickly. I can handle people if I have to.”
He smirked then, looking around the shop and noting the distinct lack of patrons at the moment.
“Slow Sundays here, I take it?”
"No one wants to buy porn on church days. But anyway. You're hired."
She crouched behind the counter, opening a drawer and rummaging through its contents before she pulled out a nametag attached to a string necklace. Maybe, if this were another store, said nametag would have glowed. Maybe the clouds would have parted and angels would have sung a chorus. But since this was a porn store, none of the above happened. She pulled a sticker gun out from the same box.
"Kankurou's too long. We're going to call you KANK."
Inside, Kankurou would have jumped for joy if the inner him wasn’t as averse to displaying happiness as he was. He could afford cigarettes now, and start saving again. Surely Temari would be too happy about the former, but since he wasn’t allowed to smoke in his room anymore he’d probably be smoking less anyways. Just so long as he could get his fix when he needed it, Kankurou would be content and less prone to snapping at the tiniest thing like a PMSing woman.
Though he did scowl at the nickname.
“‘KANK?’ Maa...what about ‘Kan’? My sister calls me that sometimes.”
It was way too fucking cute for his tastes, but ‘Kank’ sounded like a sexually-transmitted disease. Somehow, he had the feeling that the nickname had already stuck, and it was better than some others he’d received. He took the moment to hate his old man for giving him such a long name; even Temari’s was easier despite having the same amount of syllables. He made the mental note to try his hardest to simply live through customers calling him that and not throttle them.
“So what’re my responsibilities?”
"You'll have to take inventory, rotate the displays once a week, and work the register while I take care of customers. People might not wanna fuck with you at first. The regulars'll get used to you, though."
She printed out his new name--KANK--and stuck it onto the nametag, straightening it out with almost comical reverence. She slid it across the counter.
"Also, you'll have to keep a straight face when an old couple comes in here to buy dildos."
“Sounds good to me.”
He looked at his nametag with a face like he was accepting wearing a dress. Nevertheless he took it, making a mental note to give it some slack later so the tag would hang lower at his ribs which would both look better and be harder to see.
Then he looked at her and paled, if that were possible--luckily his make up covered that up effectively.
“Er, how often does that happen?”
"Enough for you to have nightmares. It's not just dildos, either. Edible panties, massage lotions, edible paints, anal beads, pornography...anything to bring back the spark." She spoke with an air of boredom, ticking off the items the elderly usually bought on her hand. "But a customer's a customer."
She pointed toward a door in the back. "The bathrooms and the break room is back there. We'll have your schedule and everything ready in a week, so if you can come back then, I'll give you a proper tour and shit."
Kankurou grimaced. “I’ll keep the straight face in mind, then.”
He nodded and slipped his hands in his back pockets--having to dodge a dangling chain for one of them.
“All right, great, and thanks. I’ll see you ‘round the building until then, probably.”
He nodded his head to her and made his leave, deciding that he’d go creep out Gaara by talking about elderly couples and their anal beads the moment he got home.