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Lutz adjusts his tie one more time, watching himself in the mirror and neatening his mustache. He doesn’t want to be here, but he has to be. Or so he was told, quite firmly. Why it’s this show, why it’s a children’s show he has to go on is utterly beyond him, but it’d been plenty clear he didn’t have any say in this. Hopefully this indignity will be enough to settle the unflattering stories circulating about him of late.
He would have taken care of it himself, but he’d also been dissuaded from his typical methods of handling undesirable situations. It’s been a very vexing couple of months, culminating in this humiliatingly absurd situation. How do they even know this talk show host, Dirk something, will follow the script? How do they know he won’t simply make things worse? He has no clear reason to follow the party line - Lutz had, of course, looked the man and his show up prior to this - and his reputation would absolutely weather doing something like sinking Lutz further into this annoying PR mess.
Lutz narrows his eyes at the mirror in thought. Maybe he should make sure this will be a positive interview. Maybe he should encourage Dirk to use his platform the way Lutz needs him to. Plenty of people have caved under Lutz’s methods of persuasion, some under just a few words. He has no idea what it’ll take for Dirk, but he has enough time before the show is set to start to take care of this.
It’s simple to find Dirk’s dressing room, lit up and obnoxiously neon yellow. Typical. Lutz nods at the security guard and walks in, locking the door behind him.
“Lutz!” Dirk says, far too loudly, spinning his chair around violently.
The man beams up at Lutz, and Lutz wonders if he’s always like this or if he’s just eaten half a kilogram of ecstasy. No one should be this energetic, and no one should be wearing that atrocious combination of neon green pants and a bright red shirt. He’s practically vibrating in his chair. Apparently Lutz is quiet for too long and Dirk launches up like he’s springloaded.
“What can I do for you?” Dirk says, unhinged smile somehow getting wider and his far less nice mustache twitching like some rabid rodent.
“I thought it would be best if we were on the same page for this interview,” Lutz says.
“Of course!” Dirk enthuses. “The kids will love you! All those furry cute animals - even the big ones! It’s perfect. If only we could fit-”
Lutz ignores his babbling, taking one step forward at a time and watching confusion set into those far too mobile eyebrows as he slowly backs Dirk into a wall. He lays a finger across his lips, the tip of his finger brushing Dirk’s mustache, finally stopping his talking.
“I want to be certain we’re on the same page,” Lutz says.
The threat is silky and out of place in this loud room. Dirk’s brow furrows more, eyes darting between Lutz’s like he can’t quite believe what’s happening. He opens his mouth and Lutz presses his finger harder against his face. His breath is hot on Lutz’s skin, and a second idea comes to him. It’s not necessary, but it would be pleasing to shut this man up for just a little longer. Maybe it would drive his point home the rest of the way. Dirk needs to know who’s in charge here.
Lutz leans in closer, enjoying that confusion in Dirk’s brown eyes. He’s so innocent almost, so guileless, so easy. Lutz pushes on his shoulder with his other hand until Dirk’s forced down to his knees at Lutz’s feet. Lutz slips his hand under Dirk’s chin, pulling gently until the man is forced to look up at him. He looks so much better here, quiet, subservient. Lutz smiles.
“This is just one thing I can do to you,” he says, unzipping his pants. “If you don’t do exactly as you’re supposed to, I might have to do more.”
Dirk’s throat works but his mouth stays closed. Lutz runs his thumb across Dirk’s lower lip, pulling it down. There’s worry in those eyes, but not enough fear. Lutz puts that thought aside, too focused on working his thumb over Dirk’s lower teeth to pull his mouth open. Dirk’s tongue brushes across the tip of his finger accidentally.
He’s very pretty when he’s quiet, Lutz decides. He’s even prettier when his obnoxious mouth is stretched around Lutz’s cock, taking him down so well. Lutz adjusts and cups the back of Dirk’s head, almost gently forcing the man to take more of his length into his mouth.
“That’s it,” Lutz says as Dirk’s tongue slides along the underside of his cock.
He keeps pushing deeper until he has Dirk’s face all the way against his belly, his mustache rough against his skin and his throat tight around the head of his cock. Lutz groans in appreciation. He takes pity on the man and pulls back enough to let him breathe. The tears that bead in the corners of Dirk’s eyes from Lutz choking him on his cock are beautiful too. It doesn’t take him long to get off to that perfect picture, holding Dirk in place to come down his throat.
Lutz steps back, Dirk still on his knees and his annoying mouth red and used. He can’t read the man’s eyes, but he’s sure the message has been received. He neatens his almost undisturbed clothes, and nods at Dirk before exiting the room.
***
The interview had gone perfectly. If he hadn’t been the one forcing Dirk to his knees just a half hour before the show, Lutz would have never guessed what had happened. Dirk was completely unaffected, completely batshit, bouncing all over the set, enthusiastic and perfectly complimentary to Lutz. He might have been like that even without Lutz threatening him, but better safe than sorry.
Lutz accepts another empty compliment as he circles the room, taking another drink from the mediocre champagne. It seems excessive to have an after event at a fancy hotel for a talk show, especially one like Dirk’s, but he’s already survived the interview itself and an event is easy, if boring. Dirk is somewhere, still bouncing off the walls last time Lutz had caught sight of those eye searing and far too tight green pants, but he’s no longer Lutz’s problem.
“Ah, Lutz! How perfect! I was just looking for you!”
Lutz closes his eyes and prays for patience before turning around. He doesn’t even fake a smile.
“Dirk,” he says.
Dirk beams at him, mustache twitching. Lutz has no idea what’s wrong with this man.
“I had something from the show earlier! I think you might find it interesting!” Dirk says, somehow loudly while actually speaking quietly enough that people won’t be able to overhear. It’s absolutely bizarre.
He leans close and Lutz suppresses the urge to shove the pest away. Dirk offers his phone up like he’s giving Lutz the best present, like he’s one of Dirk’s hyperactive delusional child audience.
Lutz takes it and squints at the screen. Ice seeps through his veins. It’s an angled overhead shot of Dirk’s dressing room. Lutz is leaning against the door, Dirk in his chair. It must be from when he’d first gone in.
“Look at the next one!” Dirk enthuses.
Lutz swipes to the next. It’s him, his finger against Dirk’s lips and pinning him to the wall with obviously unfriendly intent. The next is worse, Lutz’s hand pushing Dirk to his knees even in the still photo. Dirk snatches his phone back, still smiling maniacally at Lutz as though he hadn’t just shown him photos of his own assault.
“What do you want?” Lutz asks quietly.
He never would have expected there to be a camera in the dressing room. He’s not prepared for someone to have this kind of leverage over him, especially not this unpredictable, insane creature. Dirk claps him on the back. Lutz tries not to glare at him.
“Why don’t we discuss this somewhere more private?” Dirk says cheerfully. “Maybe you’d like to see the recording of our talk?”
Lutz’ head spins with the realization of just how fucked he is as he lets Dirk steer him down the hall and into a hotel room. The click of the door is loud in the silence. Lutz doesn’t look at anything.
“I wasn’t expecting you in my room,” Dirk says, still bubbly. “Let alone for you to be so insistent.”
He rounds Lutz, grabbing his face with both hands. The light in his eyes is sharper now, far sharper and more intent than it’d been earlier. It’s too late to realize how badly he’d misjudged this crazed man.
“Never worry,” Dirk says, waggling one finger in Lutz’s face. “I think we can come to an understanding. No one needs to know about this either, do they?”
Lutz takes a sharp breath and shakes his head.
“What was that?” Dirk prompts.
“No,” Lutz says around his clenched teeth. “They don’t need to know.”
“Wonderful,” Dirk says, gesturing expansively at nothing.
He pushes Lutz further into the room. Lutz is curiously numb. There’s no way this is going to go well, and Dirk holds all the cards. Lutz made sure he held all the cards when he’d shoved Dirk to his knees, and he hadn’t even known it.
He’s almost startled when the table hits his thighs. He hadn’t been paying attention to where Dirk was pushing him, but now he’s in front of a big mirror against the wall. He frowns at Dirk in the reflection. Dirk smiles. More. Again. Lutz isn’t sure he ever stops smiling except when he has a dick in his mouth, but that only reminds Lutz of how he ended up here in the first place.
“It wasn’t very kind of you earlier,” Dirk says, running his hands over Lutz’s shoulders. “To use me like that.”
Lutz watches him stonily. He’s not about to apologize. Dirk doesn’t seem to care, his hands moving down Lutz’s arms now.
“Leaving me hanging,” Dirk chides.
Lutz is startled enough he doesn’t react to Dirk’s hand between his shoulders pushing him flat across the table. Dirk is surprisingly strong, keeping Lutz bent over as he struggles to undo his belt with one hand. Lutz jars the table against the wall and Dirk shushes him.
“Surely you don’t want people to find out, do you?” he says. “Especially not like this. Do think of your image, Lutz.”
Lutz subsides gracelessly, stifling an indignant noise as Dirk tugs his pants down. It’s galling to hold still for this, but he doesn’t have a choice, not with the blackmail Dirk has. He bites his tongue at Dirk’s finger pushing inside him, rough and only slightly slick. The faint scent of hotel lotion reaches him as Dirk works a second finger into him, scissoring them until he’s loosened Lutz to his satisfaction.
His cock is much larger and hurts when he pushes into Lutz. Dirk’s sigh is practically theatrical and Lutz manages to hate him a little more. He’s loud as he fucks Lutz into the table, the wooden edge digging into his hips. Lutz tries not to listen but Dirk is downright obnoxious and can’t seem to stop slapping his bare hip like he’s a horse who needs encouragement.
“Look at you,” Dirk says happily.
He fists Lutz’ hair and yanks his head up sharply, until Lutz is forced to look into the mirror. His face is red, hair messy around Dirk’s fingers and he grits his teeth again as Dirk thrusts into him. Dirk doesn’t leave him alone, he reaches around and pushes his other hand against Lutz’s face. Lutz tries to turn away but Dirk’s hand tightens until Lutz gives up. Dirk’s fingers drag across his mouth, pausing oddly to pet his mustache, but then again Dirk has never made sense. He chokes when the fingers push into his mouth, keeping his jaw open and spit leaking out around them.
Dirk doesn’t let him go. He only pulls harder until Lutz is painfully arched back and water collects in his eyes. It’s undignified. Lutz is trapped, gagging on Dirk’s fingers and imagining painful ways to kill the lunatic. There’s madness in Dirk’s eyes, madness Lutz isn’t sure how he missed.
He points and winks at himself in the mirror, or maybe he’s winking at Lutz. it doesn’t really matter when he’s fucking the breath out of him. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but Lutz is pretty sure that’s not something Dirk actually cares about. Dirk’s hand finally leaves his mouth and Lutz tries to spit the taste of his fingers out.
It’s not a relief, Dirk uses his wet hand to push Lutz’s back deeper and make him start when his cock brushes something inside him. He tenses automatically and Dirk groans appreciatively. He angles his hips a little more and Lutz claws at the table as overwhelming sensation threatens to make him feel good. He won’t fucking feel good under this maniac, he won’t let him adjust the angle and nail that spot inside him until Lutz is panting desperately.
He tries to bite back the weak noises and the rising tide of unwanted pleasure but it only makes Dirk more excited. His head is still pulled back and Lutz is stuck watching that mustached freak making faces at himself like he’s in having the fuck of his life. Maybe he is, Lutz has no idea.
Dirk’s relentless in his determination to humiliate Lutz. His hand wraps around Lutz’s cock and jerks him off, not letting Lutz squirm away from the hold. It’s too easy, embarrassingly easy for him to get Lutz off and leave him limp and angry on the table. Dirk uses him harder, letting go of Lutz’s hair so abruptly his chin hits the table.
His hands dig into Lutz’s hips and he stills, head thrown back dramatically as he comes inside Lutz. It’s disgusting, the way his cum slides down the inside of Lutz’s leg when Dirk pulls out. It’s even worse when he collects it on a finger and shoves it back inside his abused hole.
“I think we understand each other,” Dirk says cheerfully, slapping Lutz’s ass again. “Maybe we’ll have to meet again to make sure the lesson sticks!”
Lutz closes his eyes against the table, too tired to move. He’d more than underestimated this deranged man, and now he’s stuck in a web of his own making.