No Way Out - Chapter one
Title: No Way Out
Pairing: Akame
Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Violence and sexual abuse (in second part).
Rating: NC/17
Summary: A reluctant gangster with a mysterious briefcase; a con-man with his own agenda; an unexpected meeting; and a choice that could change everything.
Tilting his head back, he smiled at the irony of it all. His suit, which he suspected held a higher value than his new ‘company car’, felt as though it had doubled in weight. Wriggling his shoulders, he tried to make himself more comfortable, but the incessant downpour had ensured that he was soaked through to the skin. He sighed and squeezed the handle of his briefcase; he could only pray that it was protecting its contents more effectively than his silk suit-jacket was protecting him.
Despite the tangle of emotions in his belly; excitement, nervousness, uncertainty; he couldn’t deny that the broken-down apartment block caused him a quiver of disappointment. The walls, a dull, concrete, almost seemed to be crumbling in-front of him; the pots and hanging baskets were brimming with weeds and discarded food wrappers; and the door, which may once have been a royal blue, was chipped and faded. The only real colours that the building boasted were the smears of graffiti on rotting wooden window panels. It was not the sort of place that he’d imagined would provide him with the break he’d been waiting for.
He tongued the inside of his cheek and hummed quietly to calm his nerves. In a way he felt foolish, his over-priced suit dripping as he shivered in the rain, but he also felt that he had to prepare himself; tonight was his big night after all.
“Are you going in?” A voice to his left startled him. He turned to find a young man in a hooded jacket hurrying toward him with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Yes,” he spoke a little louder than intended, and immediately felt himself blush as he smiled awkwardly at the stranger.
“Great!” the man began to hurry up the steps, “could you let me in? I forgot my key.”
Kazuya took a step forward, intent on assisting the newcomer. In fact he’d already opened his mouth to offer a response when his bosses warning came back to him.
Don’t draw attention to yourself; don’t speak to anyone until you reach the room, unless you absolutely must; and most importantly keep your focus entirely on the briefcase. We’re relying on you to deliver it. If you mess this up, you’re dead.
He paused, unsure how to proceed. The man was hovering by the door. His face, almost entirely concealed by his hood, was turned toward him. Kazuya took another step, his attention darting toward his briefcase and then back to the stranger. If he agreed then the man might attempt to converse with him, might ask questions that he couldn’t answer, might even realize that he wasn’t really supposed to be there. But if he didn’t then that would surely seem suspicious. His gaze flickered between the tattered building and the man’s faded and casual attire. He didn’t want to imagine the kind of extremes that a man used to living in such a neighborhood would go to in order to get what he wanted. Life was tough here and those who lived here, even tougher. And for the first time since he’d been issued his task he wondered at the lack of protection that his boss had given him.
“Well?” the stranger’s voice had lost its friendly air, “are you going to open the door or not?”
Kazuya moved quickly forward, nodding hurriedly. “Yes, sorry.” He mumbled, keeping his head low and his hand clasped tightly around the handle of the briefcase. He used his free hand to fish the key that he’d been provided with out of his soaked pockets. He shuddered; wet silk, he decided, was not a texture that he liked.
“Great,” the man turned to the door, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet and rocking back and forth in an attempt to keep warm, “I can’t wait to get out of these clothes.”
Kazuya paused, surprised by the strangers lack of discretion, but quickly shook the thought from his mind; it wasn’t for him to judge the man’s choice of expression. He concentrated instead on trying to slip the key into the lock as naturally as possible, rejoicing silently as the door immediately fell open as though a result of his will-power alone.
He’d barely had time to envision the building’s interior before he was standing under the warm glow of the lobby’s chandelier. He felt his jaw slacken as he drank in his new surroundings. His toes, concealed within Armani loafers, were turning numb but even they could not fail to detect the luxury of the velvet pile carpet that lay below them. The walls, rich cream with a delicate golden border encircling them, housed traditional scrolls depicting cranes, cherry blossoms and exquisite examples of calligraphy. There were candles dotted carefully around the room which flickered invitingly, and the gentle tinkering of a piano seemed to float in from some concealed area.
“It’s unusually quiet, huh?” Kazuya jumped, betraying his edginess, as the stranger spoke again. The man pulled down his hood and ran his fingers through wavy, chocolate hair.
“I...yes...” he stammered before clearing his throat. “Well it is late...” he hoped that this was a reasonable explanation for the lack of security but the dubious look that the man gave him immediately caused him to regret speaking at all. He smiled and looked away, scanning the area for a staircase or corridor that might lead him to his desired room. His heart sank; there were four doors, none of which gave any indication as to where they might lead.
“It’s been fun.” the stranger spoke again. Kazuya didn’t fail to notice the sarcasm in his tone. “But I’ve got a date with my bed that I don’t want to be late for.” He turned and began to walk in the opposite direction to the corridors, “have a nice life.” He raised two fingers in a backwards salute and shook his hair.
Kazuya frowned; he wasn’t used to being addressed so casually by unknown figures in street-wear. He ground his teeth. He may not be one of the top dogs but he was still a gang member, and that usually bought him at least a minimal amount of respect from outsiders. He imagined himself barging over to the impudent stranger and threatening him with the power of his gang. His lips twitched at the idea of the mans arrogance fading into fear. But he knew that in reality it wasn’t an option; he had to deliver the case. Turning back to face the four doors, he sighed; it was time to make a decision. Pursing his lips he took a step forward and began muttering a rhyme under his breath, the sort that children use to make decisions. It was only then that he heard the unmistakable sound of an elevator beep and doors beginning to slide open. He spun around in surprise, his eyes landing on the stranger once again. Kicking himself mentally for not having realized that the other man had walked in that direction for a reason, he began to hurry towards him, reaching him just in time and falling into the space just before the doors closed behind him.
The first thing that he noticed was his reflection in the illuminated mirror. He cringed at the sight of his ruined suit and dripping hair and turned miserably to punch the button for the tenth floor. He would be laughed at upon delivering the case and his boss, rather than rewarding him with a promotion, would punish him for bringing shame to the gang. He suppressed a shudder at the thought.
The stranger cleared his throat. Kazuya blinked and twisted his head towards him. “Can I help you?” he asked, not bothering to mask his irritation; there was something about the man that he didn’t quite trust.
“Sure,” the man smirked, “you can move your ass out of my way so that I can select my floor.”
Kazuya scowled as he took a step to the right, “you don’t have to be so rude.” He snapped, realizing even as he spoke just how lame he sounded.
The man moved closer, his hand reaching out to hit the button, while his face moved closer to Kazuya. “I’m not rude,” his voice was low and rough, “you’re just awful touchy.”
Something about the way that he spoke caused Kazuya to shudder, not with fear, but with some unidentifiable emotion that might have confused him had he spent the time to focus on it. “That’s not true!” he spoke instead, squeezing the handle of his case again, “and you should watch your tongue.” He snapped, “You don’t know who you’re dealing with!”
“You’re right, I don’t,” the smirk never left the man’s face; “I’ve never seen you around here before.” He gripped Kazuya suddenly by the arm and leaned in closer still. “Are you sure that you really live here?” Kazuya froze, as his heart began to hammer painfully in his chest; he’d been found out. The man’s smirk somehow seemed to expand, as his eyes grew narrow. “Gotcha.” He whispered, tightening his hold and pulling Kazuya even closer still. Too anxious and shocked to pull away Kazuya allowed the man to turn his body around and push him against the mirror. Despite the fear that was rapidly mutating into terror within him, he found himself noticing that the young stranger was in-fact staggeringly attractive. His dark eyes seemed to glimmer with secret emotion; his jaw, strong and firm, gradually began to relax from a sneer; and plump lips drew themselves into a smile that seemed to transform his entire persona. “Well...it’s nice to know that...” but the handsome stranger’s words would have to wait, as he was interrupted by a deafening screeching.
Kazuya’s last sight before the lights blinked out was the man’s beautiful smile fading into fearful uncertainty as he was thrown forward by a sudden jerk of the elevator. He gasped as the strangers weight pressed against him, momentarily crushing him against the glass of the mirror. He raised his hands instinctively, fisting them into the back of the man’s wet jacket, successfully steadying him. For several long moments neither of them moved and if logic hadn’t told him otherwise Kazuya might have suspected that the man was in-fact growing comfortable within his embrace. The only sound within the cramped space was their breathing, heavy and quick, somehow working to prevent either of them from falling into panic. Suddenly six tiny bulbs, that Kazuya noticed looked like fireflies against the ceiling, began to twinkle, gently illuminating the strangers face once more.
“Shit!” the man yelled, releasing his hold on Kazuya and turning away in, what looked like, panic. “This is not happening!” His hands were in his hair again, pulling at messy locks, as he twisted around trying to decide what to do. “Which floor were we on?” he demanded, turning back to where the buttons had grown dim.
“I don’t know,” Kazuya replied honestly, “I wasn’t paying attention.”
The frenzied man slammed his hand against the buttons. “Where’s the emergency button?” he demanded.
“Let me see,” Kazuya said in as gentle and calm a tone as he could muster. The strange man’s behaviour was worrying. Moving closer he leaned in and squinted at the previously illuminated circles. “There...” he placed his fingers against the panel, “there doesn’t seem to be one...”
“What?” The man grabbed at his fingers pushing them aside, “that’s impossible!” By this point the panic in his voice was undeniable. “Surely a place like this must have...”
“Well, you should know!” Kazuya snapped, finally tiring of the man’s hysterics, “why wasn’t there any security down there? Surely they work nights too!”
The man paused and slumped against the mirror, sliding down until he was crouched on the ground. “I don’t live here,” he sighed, tilting his head back and staring up at the ceiling, “I’m a crook.”
Kazuya frowned and lowered himself to the ground also. “A crook?” he repeated. The stranger nodded and lowered his gaze to face him. Kazuya felt another shiver; something about the way that the dimmed lighting on the man’s face made him even more alluring.
“All I know is that this place is some sort of safe haven for the wealthy scum of the city,” the man sighed, “it’s practically invisible to anyone not looking for it.” Kazuya nodded; he himself would never have believed that behind the crumbling exterior lay such quality furnishings. “As for security, I doubt the building itself would be guarded properly.”
“Why’s that?” Kazuya asked; he was beginning to find the man strangely captivating.
The stranger raised an eyebrow and allowed his hands to flop between his knees. “Because not one of the bastards in this place trusts another! They’ll all have their own private security.” he spoke as though it were most obvious, “that’s how I knew that you weren’t from here...you were too trusting.”
Kazuya swallowed. Did he really lack a proper underworld aura? He scowled. “How do you know so much about this place then?” he snapped.
The stranger shrugged and began to dig around in the pocket of his jeans. “That’s my job,” he fished out a packet of slightly damp cigarettes, “I con people out of things...money, possessions, information, sex...”
“Sex?” The look that the man gave him immediately caused him to regret speaking.
“Yes, sex,” the man said calmly as he lit up, “it’s something of a...hobby.”
It was an odd choice of words which caused Kazuya to feel both surprised and confused but he chose not to push the matter further. Instead he reached out for his discarded briefcase and pulled it towards him.
“What’s your name?” the man, who suddenly looked remarkably calm, asked while exhaling.
“Kamenashi,” Kazuya answered, immediately regretting his honesty. He sighed; might as well continue, “Kamenashi Kazuya.” He cleared his throat, “so are you alright now?” The man still made him feel on edge.
The stranger shrugged, “I don’t want to get caught,” he said, “but there’s nothing I can do now other than wait.” He paused, and Kazuya got the feeling that he was being summed up, “I’m in trouble with a lot of gangs.” He smiled, “they see me as a threat, and I don’t abide by those ‘unspoken rules of conduct’.”
“You work for yourself?” Kazuya wished that he didn’t sound quite so impressed, but the damage was already done. The man nodded and exhaled again. “I sure do,” he laughed, “and I play those bastards against each other as much as I possibly can.” Suddenly, much to Kazuya’s surprise, he turned and held out the packet of cigarettes. “Smoke?” he offered. “The packets a little wet but the cigarettes are fine.”
“Aren’t there alarms in these things?” Kazuya asked, gazing around expectantly.
The stranger shrugged, “an alarm might get us out of here faster.” He tapped his cigarette and Kazuya watched the ash fall onto the carpet, burning a hole. “So Kamenashi, huh?” he tilted his head, “I’ll call you Kame…or do you prefer Kazu?”
“I’d prefer Kamenashi,” Kazuya said coolly.
Jin smirked. “That wasn’t one of the options…Kazu.”
Kazuya scowled, “Fine. Kame then, call me Kame.” He cleared his throat, “and who are you?”
“Jin,” the man said simply. “What’s in the case?” He flicked his wrist in the direction of the briefcase as though only mildly interested.
Kazuya felt his breath catch, as he felt an ugly wave of suspicion fill his chest. Was this a trick? An elaborate scheme orchestrated by his boss to test his allegiance to the gang? Would the leader go that far? He knew the answer before he’d formed the question: of course he would.
“That’s none of your concern.” He said sternly, pulling the case between his legs and closing his knees around it.
Jin smirked again. “You really are touchy.” He mumbled, pushing the butt of his cigarette into the carpet.
“Shut up,” Kazuya snapped, “just mind your own business!”
Jin shrugged, “suit yourself.” He leaned forward and shrugged away his jacket before rolling it into a ball and throwing it against the mirror. He then settled back and began to flick his lighter open and then closed again.
~*~*~*~
Jin groaned and wriggled his body in a half-hearted attempt at a stretch. He had no way of knowing how long he’d been asleep, unless he asked his reluctant new companion. Opening his eyes he glanced down at the remains of the four cigarettes he’d smoked before his nap. Allowing himself a quiet smile he flicked the dust. The carpet beneath his fingers was hard and black from where he’d burned it. Serves them right. He thought about the owners of the building, although who precisely they were he had no idea.
Lifting his head he set his gaze on the man in the ruined suit, Kame, as he’d decided to call him. He was an odd character, not someone that Jin would have expected to find carrying a mysterious briefcase in a place like this. The way that he spoke and behaved seemed to ooze a bizarre concoction of confidence and vulnerability. Jin couldn’t deny that he found him intriguing and, admittedly, quite attractive. Biting his lip he tried to force that last thought from his mind; he’d been doing well, he wasn’t about to let some lowly gang member ruin his efforts.
The gang member in question appeared to be caught in some place between the realms of consciousness. His eyes, slightly glazed, were fixed on the ground to his left, and for the longest time he didn’t appear to blink or move. Jin frowned and straightened up from where he’d been slouched.
“Hey,” he said quietly, leaning forward, his hands hanging gently over his bent knees. Kame didn’t reply. Jin frowned; he wasn’t used to being ignored. “Hey!” he repeated, louder this time.
Kame turned his head, looking at him sleepily. “Hm?” It was only then, when he paid more attention, that Jin noticed the man hugging himself, an obvious attempt to keep warm. And once that fact had penetrated his senses others began to follow; he looked pale, he was trembling, he was still dressed in his drenched clothing.
Had he paused to think, Jin would have noted that he was acting out of character, but somehow he overstepped such a thought process and surged straight to worry. “Kame,” he breathed, pushing himself forward into his knees and crawling towards the shivering man, “are you ok?”
Kame nodded slowly, hugging himself more tightly, but as Jin moved closer he detected the sound of the young gangster’s jaw chattering.
Jin scowled, “don’t lie to me,” he grumbled, placing his hands carefully on Kame’s arms. He felt the man flinch and his eyes widened. Jin sighed, “you’ve got to get out of these clothes,” he tried to sound gentle, “I don’t know how long we’re going to be here,” he glanced around as though expecting a sudden miraculous answer, finding none he turned back, “you’re going to get sick if you stay like this.”
Kame was regarding him like a cornered animal, and Jin pondered briefly on the possible circumstances that had brought the man here. “Let me help you.” He said calmly, running his arms gently up crossed arms. For a few moments Kame didn’t react but eventually he began to relax his arms, giving his unspoken consent.
Jin smiled and carefully began to peel away the man’s jacket. Beneath it he found the scarlet shirt to be as soaked as it would have been had Kame been wearing that alone. Placing the jacket on the floor beside them he raised his eyes to meet the gangsters’; what he thought he saw there was unspeakable. He swallowed and lowered his gaze; it was his imagination, his own desires working against him to play tricks. Through the wet shirt he could make out the faint outline of the man’s nipples, stark due to the cold. He felt a surge below as his breath caught. Pursing his lips he tried to exhale slowly; only he could control himself.
Kame raised his hands and began attempting to undo the mother-of-pearl buttons that worked to conceal his chests nudity. Jin felt a flutter of relief bound up with disappointment; he couldn’t deny that he would have found a certain degree of pleasure in undressing the handsome young man. And then, as though reading his mind, the request came, low and slightly suggestive, or at least Jin fancied it to be as such. “Could you help me?” Jin blinked and dragged his eyes up and away from the outline of the man’s right nub, forcing himself to meet ebony eyes. The man smiled, as though suddenly shy, “my hands won’t seem to stop shaking…” he offered in explanation.
Jin nodded slowly and lowered his gaze back to the man’s quivering body. He took a deep breath; he could do this, he was simply helping the guy out. Again what didn’t occur was that it wasn’t in the nature of Akanishi Jin to do strangers favours. He started at the top, slow and careful, unhooking the buttons, one by one, gradually revealing more and more of the smooth expanse of skin below. He was pleasantly surprised by the taut stomach and the slight definition to his torso; it was more than he’d been expecting or hoping for. The man’s nipples, small, pert and no longer concealed, seemed to call to him, begging to be sucked or touched, but he wouldn’t submit. Instead he raised his eyes again, focusing on the face that watched him with an unreadable expression.
He felt the buttons come to an end. He should stop now, his mind told him, but his hands seemed to be acting upon their own will, sliding up the man’s body and pushing the wet fabric from his shoulders. His fingers seemed to dance down the man’s arm and back, allowing themselves the faintest of touches. The skin was icy, but Jin was far too distracted to feel worry. His eyes he realized had left Kame’s sharp, intelligent orbs and had readjusted themselves on slightly parted lips. What he didn’t expect was to suddenly find those lips making their way towards him. He gasped as cold fingers found their way into his hair and his lips were forced into deep and passionate kiss.
For a moment, he remained frozen, eyes wide in puzzlement and then came the change. Jin could almost hear his will snapping as primitive urges surged forth, releasing themselves in his kiss. Kame, it seemed, wasn’t entirely ready for the sudden increase in passion and as a result Jin felt his lips falter. Jin smirked into the kiss as he persevered; he knew how this was going to go. Kame regained the rhythm immediately but he was yielding, allowing Jin to guide him.
He wasn’t sure which of them had moved first, all he knew was that they suddenly seemed to be a whole lot closer. Kame mounting him while his arms explored the man’s back, which he noted was becoming less cold with each passing second. Fair hair, now only slightly damp, tickled the side of his face as hot lips pressed against his throat. Jin groaned and pressed his blunt fingernails into Kame’s flesh, urging him to continue. Closing his eyes he tilted his head back, exposing more of his neck to the eager young man in his arms, who immediately bit down gently in response. Jin gasped and grasped Kazuya by the hair, pulling it slightly and causing the man to groan with delight.
Using his freehand, Jin began to slowly move down Kame’s naked back, until he met the waistband of the man’s wet trousers. Biting his lip in anticipation, he carefully slid his fingers under and down over the man’s buttocks. He felt Kame stiffen slightly, before continuing his kisses, up along Jin’s jaw line and back to his lips. Somehow this hesitance, immediately followed by willingness increased Jin’s confidence. Withdrawing, he leaned back, placing his hands on the man’s exposed hips, he eased him onto the ground, and stood up.
Kazuya’s face was glowing, his eyes stared up lustfully, his breathing ragged, his lips swollen; Jin could hardly wait. He smiled and pulled off his t-shirt, dropping it to the ground by his feet. He then began to undo his belt, eyes never leaving that enchanting face. He took a step closer and lowered his hand into Kazuya’s hair, stroking it for a moment to reassure him, before applying a little more pressure. Not needing any further encouragement, Kame shuffled closer and brought his hands up to undo Jin’s jeans. He then paused for a moment, glancing upwards as though searching for confirmation that he was doing what Jin wanted, before sliding his hands under the rim of navy boxer-shorts and guiding them down. A low groan escaped his throat as he felt lips close around him. The kneeling man moved slowly at first, almost torturously so, and Jin had to fight back the urge to tighten his hold on his hair and fuck his mouth with more force. He swallowed, his lids relaxing while he concentrated on the increasing sensations. He felt Kazuya’s tongue circling his tip, his speed gradually increasing. Jin groaned; he hadn’t expected the gangster to be quite so talented. And then his length was almost completely engulfed by the man’s mouth as he bobbed his head quickly, hands reaching up to assist him. The sudden change in motion caused Jin to cry out, in a fashion entirely unlike him. And he realized, just in time, that if he didn’t stop this soon then it would all be over for him.
“Stop!” he gasped, his hand tightening into a fist around Kame’s hair. The man on the ground did so immediately, pulling back and gazing up at him with eyes portraying puzzlement and even, Jin thought, a glimmer of hurt. “Stand up.” He tried to sound dominant, commanding, but his breathing seemed to be out of his control and his most sensitive parts were begging for further attention. Kazuya didn’t move, just continued to stare. Jin was not a patient man. “Now.” He tugged the hair, as warning and guidance. Kazuya staggered to his feet, and was immediately shoved against the mirror as Jin locked their lips together once more. He felt Kame grasp the back of his arms for support and this caused him to smile into the kiss, as his hands began to wander. He felt Kame tighten his hold on him, as the gangster began to grind, desperately seeking some friction. Jin felt his heart skip; he would make this beautiful stranger cry with pleasure. Even as he concentrated on undressing the other he knew that something was different; he never concerned himself with the pleasure of his partners, his own needs were always paramount.
Kazuya’s clothing seemed to roll from his hips, falling swiftly to the ground and leaving the young gangster completely exposed. Jin took the opportunity to stroke him softly, the quiet moans that he caused working to increase the flutters of excitement in his belly. He slowed down suddenly and leaned in for a kiss, and he felt Kame falter. He wondered if the other man had any idea as to the extent of the effect that he was having on him. With no way of knowing he kissed him deeper, not certain of exactly what he wanted to portray but knowing that he should try nonetheless.
And then they were parted again and Jin was twisting Kazuya around, one arm encircling his chest as the other moved to his waiting erection. Glancing momentarily at their reflection in the mirror he felt himself twitch; Kame would have to watch as Jin pleasured him. With that thought in mind he began to nip and suck at the skin behind the gangster’s right ear while his hand began to pump. The man whimpered and struggled slightly in his embrace but this only worked to heighten his state of arousal to an almost unbearable level. “You’re beautiful.” he surprised himself by the words but couldn’t bring himself to regret them, as Kame twisted his head and torso enabling them to kiss once more. The man’s breathing told Jin that he was growing close, and so he began to slow his fist causing a whine of protest that he ignored. “Not yet.” He whispered, releasing his hold and bringing his hand up to cup the face that seemed to be regarding him with an equal measure of lust and trust. He traced the man’s lips with his fingers, until they parted, and Kame began to suck. He closed his eyes; in his heightened state the sensation was delicious.
Kame began to turn his face away, and for a moment Jin worried that the spell had been broken. But the words that the man uttered next immediately reinstated his confidence: “I’m ready.” He felt another flutter, but tried to remain cool and in control, nodding his understanding and turning the man back towards the mirror. He then brought his slightly lubricated fingers to his entrance and pushed in his index finger. Kame only stiffened for a moment, before immediately relaxing, confirming Jin’s suspicions that he was well used to being in such a situation. He glanced into the mirror to find the handsome man focusing on him. A nod and he inserted another finger, this time eliciting a string of moans and gasps from his companion. The sight of that face, an embodiment of pleasure was as fascinating as the slick body that trembled in anticipation. In fact it was only through watching the reactions on the man’s face in the mirror that he realized that he’d begun to finger fuck him with some great enthusiasm.
“Please!” Kame’s voice sounded raw as he begged. Leaning forward he placed his hands against the mirror, his head bowed, hair hanging over his face as he panted.
Jin needed no further encouragement. He retracted his fingers and positioned himself behind the man bent before him. Placing one hand firmly on Kame’s hips he used the other to guide himself into him. Then there was only bliss as the man’s tightness consumed him. His free hand flew to the spare hip and became the leverage that he needed to slam into his whimpering partner. The sounds that Kame was making were a glorious bundle of desperation and gratification, his moans echoing around the tiny darkened space that they alone inhabited. And then he looked up, glittering, almond-shaped eyes reflected in the lowly illuminated mirror, silently begging Jin to touch him. Enraptured by those undeniably haunting eyes Jin withdrew and wasted no time in turning his partner to face him. Kame gasped and almost stumbled but Jin was ready, supporting him before lowering him to the ground. The disorientated man had little time to react as he was pushed onto his back, his legs lifted and he was entered again. Jin immediately leaned forward, clasping their fingers together as they kissed and then his hand was around Kame’s erection, moving rapidly over his length, gradually increasing both speed and pressure. The suddenness of the action caused Kame to scream and writher as his insides began to constrict. Jin’s breath caught as the pulsing sensation forced his body to react. He was vaguely aware of the sound of his own voice, tangled in with Kazuya’s, as his orgasm hit. He could feel the gangster jerking and shuddering beneath his fingers, coating him, but this only worked to elongate his peak which seemed to stretch on and on as he spilled all that he had into him.
And then it was over and they lay still. Beneath him Kazuya, breathless and seemingly dazed, made no effort to move. But for Jin, the post climactic haze ran out all too quickly. He tried to fight it off, the impending feeling, but it was already too late; he was already beginning to acknowledge it. Pulling himself back, he wiped his hand on the ground and began to struggle back into his clothes.
Pairing: Akame
Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Violence and sexual abuse (in second part).
Rating: NC/17
Summary: A reluctant gangster with a mysterious briefcase; a con-man with his own agenda; an unexpected meeting; and a choice that could change everything.
Tilting his head back, he smiled at the irony of it all. His suit, which he suspected held a higher value than his new ‘company car’, felt as though it had doubled in weight. Wriggling his shoulders, he tried to make himself more comfortable, but the incessant downpour had ensured that he was soaked through to the skin. He sighed and squeezed the handle of his briefcase; he could only pray that it was protecting its contents more effectively than his silk suit-jacket was protecting him.
Despite the tangle of emotions in his belly; excitement, nervousness, uncertainty; he couldn’t deny that the broken-down apartment block caused him a quiver of disappointment. The walls, a dull, concrete, almost seemed to be crumbling in-front of him; the pots and hanging baskets were brimming with weeds and discarded food wrappers; and the door, which may once have been a royal blue, was chipped and faded. The only real colours that the building boasted were the smears of graffiti on rotting wooden window panels. It was not the sort of place that he’d imagined would provide him with the break he’d been waiting for.
He tongued the inside of his cheek and hummed quietly to calm his nerves. In a way he felt foolish, his over-priced suit dripping as he shivered in the rain, but he also felt that he had to prepare himself; tonight was his big night after all.
“Are you going in?” A voice to his left startled him. He turned to find a young man in a hooded jacket hurrying toward him with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Yes,” he spoke a little louder than intended, and immediately felt himself blush as he smiled awkwardly at the stranger.
“Great!” the man began to hurry up the steps, “could you let me in? I forgot my key.”
Kazuya took a step forward, intent on assisting the newcomer. In fact he’d already opened his mouth to offer a response when his bosses warning came back to him.
Don’t draw attention to yourself; don’t speak to anyone until you reach the room, unless you absolutely must; and most importantly keep your focus entirely on the briefcase. We’re relying on you to deliver it. If you mess this up, you’re dead.
He paused, unsure how to proceed. The man was hovering by the door. His face, almost entirely concealed by his hood, was turned toward him. Kazuya took another step, his attention darting toward his briefcase and then back to the stranger. If he agreed then the man might attempt to converse with him, might ask questions that he couldn’t answer, might even realize that he wasn’t really supposed to be there. But if he didn’t then that would surely seem suspicious. His gaze flickered between the tattered building and the man’s faded and casual attire. He didn’t want to imagine the kind of extremes that a man used to living in such a neighborhood would go to in order to get what he wanted. Life was tough here and those who lived here, even tougher. And for the first time since he’d been issued his task he wondered at the lack of protection that his boss had given him.
“Well?” the stranger’s voice had lost its friendly air, “are you going to open the door or not?”
Kazuya moved quickly forward, nodding hurriedly. “Yes, sorry.” He mumbled, keeping his head low and his hand clasped tightly around the handle of the briefcase. He used his free hand to fish the key that he’d been provided with out of his soaked pockets. He shuddered; wet silk, he decided, was not a texture that he liked.
“Great,” the man turned to the door, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet and rocking back and forth in an attempt to keep warm, “I can’t wait to get out of these clothes.”
Kazuya paused, surprised by the strangers lack of discretion, but quickly shook the thought from his mind; it wasn’t for him to judge the man’s choice of expression. He concentrated instead on trying to slip the key into the lock as naturally as possible, rejoicing silently as the door immediately fell open as though a result of his will-power alone.
He’d barely had time to envision the building’s interior before he was standing under the warm glow of the lobby’s chandelier. He felt his jaw slacken as he drank in his new surroundings. His toes, concealed within Armani loafers, were turning numb but even they could not fail to detect the luxury of the velvet pile carpet that lay below them. The walls, rich cream with a delicate golden border encircling them, housed traditional scrolls depicting cranes, cherry blossoms and exquisite examples of calligraphy. There were candles dotted carefully around the room which flickered invitingly, and the gentle tinkering of a piano seemed to float in from some concealed area.
“It’s unusually quiet, huh?” Kazuya jumped, betraying his edginess, as the stranger spoke again. The man pulled down his hood and ran his fingers through wavy, chocolate hair.
“I...yes...” he stammered before clearing his throat. “Well it is late...” he hoped that this was a reasonable explanation for the lack of security but the dubious look that the man gave him immediately caused him to regret speaking at all. He smiled and looked away, scanning the area for a staircase or corridor that might lead him to his desired room. His heart sank; there were four doors, none of which gave any indication as to where they might lead.
“It’s been fun.” the stranger spoke again. Kazuya didn’t fail to notice the sarcasm in his tone. “But I’ve got a date with my bed that I don’t want to be late for.” He turned and began to walk in the opposite direction to the corridors, “have a nice life.” He raised two fingers in a backwards salute and shook his hair.
Kazuya frowned; he wasn’t used to being addressed so casually by unknown figures in street-wear. He ground his teeth. He may not be one of the top dogs but he was still a gang member, and that usually bought him at least a minimal amount of respect from outsiders. He imagined himself barging over to the impudent stranger and threatening him with the power of his gang. His lips twitched at the idea of the mans arrogance fading into fear. But he knew that in reality it wasn’t an option; he had to deliver the case. Turning back to face the four doors, he sighed; it was time to make a decision. Pursing his lips he took a step forward and began muttering a rhyme under his breath, the sort that children use to make decisions. It was only then that he heard the unmistakable sound of an elevator beep and doors beginning to slide open. He spun around in surprise, his eyes landing on the stranger once again. Kicking himself mentally for not having realized that the other man had walked in that direction for a reason, he began to hurry towards him, reaching him just in time and falling into the space just before the doors closed behind him.
The first thing that he noticed was his reflection in the illuminated mirror. He cringed at the sight of his ruined suit and dripping hair and turned miserably to punch the button for the tenth floor. He would be laughed at upon delivering the case and his boss, rather than rewarding him with a promotion, would punish him for bringing shame to the gang. He suppressed a shudder at the thought.
The stranger cleared his throat. Kazuya blinked and twisted his head towards him. “Can I help you?” he asked, not bothering to mask his irritation; there was something about the man that he didn’t quite trust.
“Sure,” the man smirked, “you can move your ass out of my way so that I can select my floor.”
Kazuya scowled as he took a step to the right, “you don’t have to be so rude.” He snapped, realizing even as he spoke just how lame he sounded.
The man moved closer, his hand reaching out to hit the button, while his face moved closer to Kazuya. “I’m not rude,” his voice was low and rough, “you’re just awful touchy.”
Something about the way that he spoke caused Kazuya to shudder, not with fear, but with some unidentifiable emotion that might have confused him had he spent the time to focus on it. “That’s not true!” he spoke instead, squeezing the handle of his case again, “and you should watch your tongue.” He snapped, “You don’t know who you’re dealing with!”
“You’re right, I don’t,” the smirk never left the man’s face; “I’ve never seen you around here before.” He gripped Kazuya suddenly by the arm and leaned in closer still. “Are you sure that you really live here?” Kazuya froze, as his heart began to hammer painfully in his chest; he’d been found out. The man’s smirk somehow seemed to expand, as his eyes grew narrow. “Gotcha.” He whispered, tightening his hold and pulling Kazuya even closer still. Too anxious and shocked to pull away Kazuya allowed the man to turn his body around and push him against the mirror. Despite the fear that was rapidly mutating into terror within him, he found himself noticing that the young stranger was in-fact staggeringly attractive. His dark eyes seemed to glimmer with secret emotion; his jaw, strong and firm, gradually began to relax from a sneer; and plump lips drew themselves into a smile that seemed to transform his entire persona. “Well...it’s nice to know that...” but the handsome stranger’s words would have to wait, as he was interrupted by a deafening screeching.
Kazuya’s last sight before the lights blinked out was the man’s beautiful smile fading into fearful uncertainty as he was thrown forward by a sudden jerk of the elevator. He gasped as the strangers weight pressed against him, momentarily crushing him against the glass of the mirror. He raised his hands instinctively, fisting them into the back of the man’s wet jacket, successfully steadying him. For several long moments neither of them moved and if logic hadn’t told him otherwise Kazuya might have suspected that the man was in-fact growing comfortable within his embrace. The only sound within the cramped space was their breathing, heavy and quick, somehow working to prevent either of them from falling into panic. Suddenly six tiny bulbs, that Kazuya noticed looked like fireflies against the ceiling, began to twinkle, gently illuminating the strangers face once more.
“Shit!” the man yelled, releasing his hold on Kazuya and turning away in, what looked like, panic. “This is not happening!” His hands were in his hair again, pulling at messy locks, as he twisted around trying to decide what to do. “Which floor were we on?” he demanded, turning back to where the buttons had grown dim.
“I don’t know,” Kazuya replied honestly, “I wasn’t paying attention.”
The frenzied man slammed his hand against the buttons. “Where’s the emergency button?” he demanded.
“Let me see,” Kazuya said in as gentle and calm a tone as he could muster. The strange man’s behaviour was worrying. Moving closer he leaned in and squinted at the previously illuminated circles. “There...” he placed his fingers against the panel, “there doesn’t seem to be one...”
“What?” The man grabbed at his fingers pushing them aside, “that’s impossible!” By this point the panic in his voice was undeniable. “Surely a place like this must have...”
“Well, you should know!” Kazuya snapped, finally tiring of the man’s hysterics, “why wasn’t there any security down there? Surely they work nights too!”
The man paused and slumped against the mirror, sliding down until he was crouched on the ground. “I don’t live here,” he sighed, tilting his head back and staring up at the ceiling, “I’m a crook.”
Kazuya frowned and lowered himself to the ground also. “A crook?” he repeated. The stranger nodded and lowered his gaze to face him. Kazuya felt another shiver; something about the way that the dimmed lighting on the man’s face made him even more alluring.
“All I know is that this place is some sort of safe haven for the wealthy scum of the city,” the man sighed, “it’s practically invisible to anyone not looking for it.” Kazuya nodded; he himself would never have believed that behind the crumbling exterior lay such quality furnishings. “As for security, I doubt the building itself would be guarded properly.”
“Why’s that?” Kazuya asked; he was beginning to find the man strangely captivating.
The stranger raised an eyebrow and allowed his hands to flop between his knees. “Because not one of the bastards in this place trusts another! They’ll all have their own private security.” he spoke as though it were most obvious, “that’s how I knew that you weren’t from here...you were too trusting.”
Kazuya swallowed. Did he really lack a proper underworld aura? He scowled. “How do you know so much about this place then?” he snapped.
The stranger shrugged and began to dig around in the pocket of his jeans. “That’s my job,” he fished out a packet of slightly damp cigarettes, “I con people out of things...money, possessions, information, sex...”
“Sex?” The look that the man gave him immediately caused him to regret speaking.
“Yes, sex,” the man said calmly as he lit up, “it’s something of a...hobby.”
It was an odd choice of words which caused Kazuya to feel both surprised and confused but he chose not to push the matter further. Instead he reached out for his discarded briefcase and pulled it towards him.
“What’s your name?” the man, who suddenly looked remarkably calm, asked while exhaling.
“Kamenashi,” Kazuya answered, immediately regretting his honesty. He sighed; might as well continue, “Kamenashi Kazuya.” He cleared his throat, “so are you alright now?” The man still made him feel on edge.
The stranger shrugged, “I don’t want to get caught,” he said, “but there’s nothing I can do now other than wait.” He paused, and Kazuya got the feeling that he was being summed up, “I’m in trouble with a lot of gangs.” He smiled, “they see me as a threat, and I don’t abide by those ‘unspoken rules of conduct’.”
“You work for yourself?” Kazuya wished that he didn’t sound quite so impressed, but the damage was already done. The man nodded and exhaled again. “I sure do,” he laughed, “and I play those bastards against each other as much as I possibly can.” Suddenly, much to Kazuya’s surprise, he turned and held out the packet of cigarettes. “Smoke?” he offered. “The packets a little wet but the cigarettes are fine.”
“Aren’t there alarms in these things?” Kazuya asked, gazing around expectantly.
The stranger shrugged, “an alarm might get us out of here faster.” He tapped his cigarette and Kazuya watched the ash fall onto the carpet, burning a hole. “So Kamenashi, huh?” he tilted his head, “I’ll call you Kame…or do you prefer Kazu?”
“I’d prefer Kamenashi,” Kazuya said coolly.
Jin smirked. “That wasn’t one of the options…Kazu.”
Kazuya scowled, “Fine. Kame then, call me Kame.” He cleared his throat, “and who are you?”
“Jin,” the man said simply. “What’s in the case?” He flicked his wrist in the direction of the briefcase as though only mildly interested.
Kazuya felt his breath catch, as he felt an ugly wave of suspicion fill his chest. Was this a trick? An elaborate scheme orchestrated by his boss to test his allegiance to the gang? Would the leader go that far? He knew the answer before he’d formed the question: of course he would.
“That’s none of your concern.” He said sternly, pulling the case between his legs and closing his knees around it.
Jin smirked again. “You really are touchy.” He mumbled, pushing the butt of his cigarette into the carpet.
“Shut up,” Kazuya snapped, “just mind your own business!”
Jin shrugged, “suit yourself.” He leaned forward and shrugged away his jacket before rolling it into a ball and throwing it against the mirror. He then settled back and began to flick his lighter open and then closed again.
~*~*~*~
Jin groaned and wriggled his body in a half-hearted attempt at a stretch. He had no way of knowing how long he’d been asleep, unless he asked his reluctant new companion. Opening his eyes he glanced down at the remains of the four cigarettes he’d smoked before his nap. Allowing himself a quiet smile he flicked the dust. The carpet beneath his fingers was hard and black from where he’d burned it. Serves them right. He thought about the owners of the building, although who precisely they were he had no idea.
Lifting his head he set his gaze on the man in the ruined suit, Kame, as he’d decided to call him. He was an odd character, not someone that Jin would have expected to find carrying a mysterious briefcase in a place like this. The way that he spoke and behaved seemed to ooze a bizarre concoction of confidence and vulnerability. Jin couldn’t deny that he found him intriguing and, admittedly, quite attractive. Biting his lip he tried to force that last thought from his mind; he’d been doing well, he wasn’t about to let some lowly gang member ruin his efforts.
The gang member in question appeared to be caught in some place between the realms of consciousness. His eyes, slightly glazed, were fixed on the ground to his left, and for the longest time he didn’t appear to blink or move. Jin frowned and straightened up from where he’d been slouched.
“Hey,” he said quietly, leaning forward, his hands hanging gently over his bent knees. Kame didn’t reply. Jin frowned; he wasn’t used to being ignored. “Hey!” he repeated, louder this time.
Kame turned his head, looking at him sleepily. “Hm?” It was only then, when he paid more attention, that Jin noticed the man hugging himself, an obvious attempt to keep warm. And once that fact had penetrated his senses others began to follow; he looked pale, he was trembling, he was still dressed in his drenched clothing.
Had he paused to think, Jin would have noted that he was acting out of character, but somehow he overstepped such a thought process and surged straight to worry. “Kame,” he breathed, pushing himself forward into his knees and crawling towards the shivering man, “are you ok?”
Kame nodded slowly, hugging himself more tightly, but as Jin moved closer he detected the sound of the young gangster’s jaw chattering.
Jin scowled, “don’t lie to me,” he grumbled, placing his hands carefully on Kame’s arms. He felt the man flinch and his eyes widened. Jin sighed, “you’ve got to get out of these clothes,” he tried to sound gentle, “I don’t know how long we’re going to be here,” he glanced around as though expecting a sudden miraculous answer, finding none he turned back, “you’re going to get sick if you stay like this.”
Kame was regarding him like a cornered animal, and Jin pondered briefly on the possible circumstances that had brought the man here. “Let me help you.” He said calmly, running his arms gently up crossed arms. For a few moments Kame didn’t react but eventually he began to relax his arms, giving his unspoken consent.
Jin smiled and carefully began to peel away the man’s jacket. Beneath it he found the scarlet shirt to be as soaked as it would have been had Kame been wearing that alone. Placing the jacket on the floor beside them he raised his eyes to meet the gangsters’; what he thought he saw there was unspeakable. He swallowed and lowered his gaze; it was his imagination, his own desires working against him to play tricks. Through the wet shirt he could make out the faint outline of the man’s nipples, stark due to the cold. He felt a surge below as his breath caught. Pursing his lips he tried to exhale slowly; only he could control himself.
Kame raised his hands and began attempting to undo the mother-of-pearl buttons that worked to conceal his chests nudity. Jin felt a flutter of relief bound up with disappointment; he couldn’t deny that he would have found a certain degree of pleasure in undressing the handsome young man. And then, as though reading his mind, the request came, low and slightly suggestive, or at least Jin fancied it to be as such. “Could you help me?” Jin blinked and dragged his eyes up and away from the outline of the man’s right nub, forcing himself to meet ebony eyes. The man smiled, as though suddenly shy, “my hands won’t seem to stop shaking…” he offered in explanation.
Jin nodded slowly and lowered his gaze back to the man’s quivering body. He took a deep breath; he could do this, he was simply helping the guy out. Again what didn’t occur was that it wasn’t in the nature of Akanishi Jin to do strangers favours. He started at the top, slow and careful, unhooking the buttons, one by one, gradually revealing more and more of the smooth expanse of skin below. He was pleasantly surprised by the taut stomach and the slight definition to his torso; it was more than he’d been expecting or hoping for. The man’s nipples, small, pert and no longer concealed, seemed to call to him, begging to be sucked or touched, but he wouldn’t submit. Instead he raised his eyes again, focusing on the face that watched him with an unreadable expression.
He felt the buttons come to an end. He should stop now, his mind told him, but his hands seemed to be acting upon their own will, sliding up the man’s body and pushing the wet fabric from his shoulders. His fingers seemed to dance down the man’s arm and back, allowing themselves the faintest of touches. The skin was icy, but Jin was far too distracted to feel worry. His eyes he realized had left Kame’s sharp, intelligent orbs and had readjusted themselves on slightly parted lips. What he didn’t expect was to suddenly find those lips making their way towards him. He gasped as cold fingers found their way into his hair and his lips were forced into deep and passionate kiss.
For a moment, he remained frozen, eyes wide in puzzlement and then came the change. Jin could almost hear his will snapping as primitive urges surged forth, releasing themselves in his kiss. Kame, it seemed, wasn’t entirely ready for the sudden increase in passion and as a result Jin felt his lips falter. Jin smirked into the kiss as he persevered; he knew how this was going to go. Kame regained the rhythm immediately but he was yielding, allowing Jin to guide him.
He wasn’t sure which of them had moved first, all he knew was that they suddenly seemed to be a whole lot closer. Kame mounting him while his arms explored the man’s back, which he noted was becoming less cold with each passing second. Fair hair, now only slightly damp, tickled the side of his face as hot lips pressed against his throat. Jin groaned and pressed his blunt fingernails into Kame’s flesh, urging him to continue. Closing his eyes he tilted his head back, exposing more of his neck to the eager young man in his arms, who immediately bit down gently in response. Jin gasped and grasped Kazuya by the hair, pulling it slightly and causing the man to groan with delight.
Using his freehand, Jin began to slowly move down Kame’s naked back, until he met the waistband of the man’s wet trousers. Biting his lip in anticipation, he carefully slid his fingers under and down over the man’s buttocks. He felt Kame stiffen slightly, before continuing his kisses, up along Jin’s jaw line and back to his lips. Somehow this hesitance, immediately followed by willingness increased Jin’s confidence. Withdrawing, he leaned back, placing his hands on the man’s exposed hips, he eased him onto the ground, and stood up.
Kazuya’s face was glowing, his eyes stared up lustfully, his breathing ragged, his lips swollen; Jin could hardly wait. He smiled and pulled off his t-shirt, dropping it to the ground by his feet. He then began to undo his belt, eyes never leaving that enchanting face. He took a step closer and lowered his hand into Kazuya’s hair, stroking it for a moment to reassure him, before applying a little more pressure. Not needing any further encouragement, Kame shuffled closer and brought his hands up to undo Jin’s jeans. He then paused for a moment, glancing upwards as though searching for confirmation that he was doing what Jin wanted, before sliding his hands under the rim of navy boxer-shorts and guiding them down. A low groan escaped his throat as he felt lips close around him. The kneeling man moved slowly at first, almost torturously so, and Jin had to fight back the urge to tighten his hold on his hair and fuck his mouth with more force. He swallowed, his lids relaxing while he concentrated on the increasing sensations. He felt Kazuya’s tongue circling his tip, his speed gradually increasing. Jin groaned; he hadn’t expected the gangster to be quite so talented. And then his length was almost completely engulfed by the man’s mouth as he bobbed his head quickly, hands reaching up to assist him. The sudden change in motion caused Jin to cry out, in a fashion entirely unlike him. And he realized, just in time, that if he didn’t stop this soon then it would all be over for him.
“Stop!” he gasped, his hand tightening into a fist around Kame’s hair. The man on the ground did so immediately, pulling back and gazing up at him with eyes portraying puzzlement and even, Jin thought, a glimmer of hurt. “Stand up.” He tried to sound dominant, commanding, but his breathing seemed to be out of his control and his most sensitive parts were begging for further attention. Kazuya didn’t move, just continued to stare. Jin was not a patient man. “Now.” He tugged the hair, as warning and guidance. Kazuya staggered to his feet, and was immediately shoved against the mirror as Jin locked their lips together once more. He felt Kame grasp the back of his arms for support and this caused him to smile into the kiss, as his hands began to wander. He felt Kame tighten his hold on him, as the gangster began to grind, desperately seeking some friction. Jin felt his heart skip; he would make this beautiful stranger cry with pleasure. Even as he concentrated on undressing the other he knew that something was different; he never concerned himself with the pleasure of his partners, his own needs were always paramount.
Kazuya’s clothing seemed to roll from his hips, falling swiftly to the ground and leaving the young gangster completely exposed. Jin took the opportunity to stroke him softly, the quiet moans that he caused working to increase the flutters of excitement in his belly. He slowed down suddenly and leaned in for a kiss, and he felt Kame falter. He wondered if the other man had any idea as to the extent of the effect that he was having on him. With no way of knowing he kissed him deeper, not certain of exactly what he wanted to portray but knowing that he should try nonetheless.
And then they were parted again and Jin was twisting Kazuya around, one arm encircling his chest as the other moved to his waiting erection. Glancing momentarily at their reflection in the mirror he felt himself twitch; Kame would have to watch as Jin pleasured him. With that thought in mind he began to nip and suck at the skin behind the gangster’s right ear while his hand began to pump. The man whimpered and struggled slightly in his embrace but this only worked to heighten his state of arousal to an almost unbearable level. “You’re beautiful.” he surprised himself by the words but couldn’t bring himself to regret them, as Kame twisted his head and torso enabling them to kiss once more. The man’s breathing told Jin that he was growing close, and so he began to slow his fist causing a whine of protest that he ignored. “Not yet.” He whispered, releasing his hold and bringing his hand up to cup the face that seemed to be regarding him with an equal measure of lust and trust. He traced the man’s lips with his fingers, until they parted, and Kame began to suck. He closed his eyes; in his heightened state the sensation was delicious.
Kame began to turn his face away, and for a moment Jin worried that the spell had been broken. But the words that the man uttered next immediately reinstated his confidence: “I’m ready.” He felt another flutter, but tried to remain cool and in control, nodding his understanding and turning the man back towards the mirror. He then brought his slightly lubricated fingers to his entrance and pushed in his index finger. Kame only stiffened for a moment, before immediately relaxing, confirming Jin’s suspicions that he was well used to being in such a situation. He glanced into the mirror to find the handsome man focusing on him. A nod and he inserted another finger, this time eliciting a string of moans and gasps from his companion. The sight of that face, an embodiment of pleasure was as fascinating as the slick body that trembled in anticipation. In fact it was only through watching the reactions on the man’s face in the mirror that he realized that he’d begun to finger fuck him with some great enthusiasm.
“Please!” Kame’s voice sounded raw as he begged. Leaning forward he placed his hands against the mirror, his head bowed, hair hanging over his face as he panted.
Jin needed no further encouragement. He retracted his fingers and positioned himself behind the man bent before him. Placing one hand firmly on Kame’s hips he used the other to guide himself into him. Then there was only bliss as the man’s tightness consumed him. His free hand flew to the spare hip and became the leverage that he needed to slam into his whimpering partner. The sounds that Kame was making were a glorious bundle of desperation and gratification, his moans echoing around the tiny darkened space that they alone inhabited. And then he looked up, glittering, almond-shaped eyes reflected in the lowly illuminated mirror, silently begging Jin to touch him. Enraptured by those undeniably haunting eyes Jin withdrew and wasted no time in turning his partner to face him. Kame gasped and almost stumbled but Jin was ready, supporting him before lowering him to the ground. The disorientated man had little time to react as he was pushed onto his back, his legs lifted and he was entered again. Jin immediately leaned forward, clasping their fingers together as they kissed and then his hand was around Kame’s erection, moving rapidly over his length, gradually increasing both speed and pressure. The suddenness of the action caused Kame to scream and writher as his insides began to constrict. Jin’s breath caught as the pulsing sensation forced his body to react. He was vaguely aware of the sound of his own voice, tangled in with Kazuya’s, as his orgasm hit. He could feel the gangster jerking and shuddering beneath his fingers, coating him, but this only worked to elongate his peak which seemed to stretch on and on as he spilled all that he had into him.
And then it was over and they lay still. Beneath him Kazuya, breathless and seemingly dazed, made no effort to move. But for Jin, the post climactic haze ran out all too quickly. He tried to fight it off, the impending feeling, but it was already too late; he was already beginning to acknowledge it. Pulling himself back, he wiped his hand on the ground and began to struggle back into his clothes.