I really need to stop trolling that kink meme...
Agh! So many good prompts, so little will to resist! Though I suppose I have to praise the meme's existence for making the past week-plus so productive!
In between prompt madness, though, I finally finished that first portion of the My Fair Lady Saiyuki story. ^__^ And by first portion, I mean the part that comes first in the story, not the part that was written first.
I bring it to share! Like the previous bit, it's definitely up there on the naughty scale. Hence! I'm using the naughty content filter thingymajig. (Maybe it's time to change my settings and have my journal as a whole warn for adult content? I put so little of it on here, though...)
Summary: A riff on MFL, starring hooker!Gojyo as Eliza, trying to work his way up in the world. Heh.
Notes: Hard R/MA this part, R-ish rating over all. (It's a story about hookers and stuff, for crying out loud.) Swearing, hooker!Gojyo doing his thing.
=======
Gojyo had shit luck getting johns that night. It was raining and everyone was too busy scurrying home under umbrellas to pay any attention to him. Even the guys getting out of the sleazy places weren't looking. Gojyo knew it was time to call it quits. He sighed, blowing water out of his face. Maybe Banri wouldn't pull his usual, and there'd be rent money waiting at home. It was due next week…Gojyo snorted. Hah. Like that ever happened. Gojyo'd just have to make up the difference tomorrow night.
He headed through a back alley, cutting out a couple blocks worth of walking to get to the subway station. If he'd known earlier that the weather was going to be this lousy, he would've caught the last train going through where he'd been working. As it was, it was thirty blocks to the closest all-night stop. Gojyo sighed. His toes were already squishing in his (dammit) second-best pair of boots.
At the end of the alley, where it intersected with a larger street, there was a car coming, headlights bouncing over the wet streets. Gojyo waited for it to pass him by. He hoped that it wasn't some dumbass teenager waiting for him to walk out so that they could speed up and splash him or, worse, play chicken and try to clip him. Instead, he watched the car slow down at the end of the curb, its blinker on. It glided to a stop.
Gojyo walked up, wincing at all the pothole-puddles all around. The back window, splattered with rain, rolled down with a hum, and Gojyo stared into the prettiest face he'd ever seen. Like too perfect to be fucking true. This guy, he was like a doll or something. A mannequin, maybe. Gojyo wondered how much of it was real-how much was God's gift and how much was full-on makeup. Plastic surgery, maybe? Were those green eyes contacts? He wasn't sure. And why would such a hot guy be looking for a hooker? Gojyo put on his best smile. He didn't want this one to get away.
"Hey there, sweet thing," said Gojyo. "See something you like?"
Gojyo leaned against the car, one elbow on the roof. He let one of his hands drift down, tracing his chest and his abs before he cupped comfortably around his groin. He looked good, he knew, despite the rain that pissed down on him. Hell, maybe he looked even better than normal, though he knew his hair was going to frizz like a motherfucker as soon as he got out of the wet. He was soaked and cold. But he knew his body was looking great, like high definition great. His clothes clung in all the right places and were extra see-through than usual thanks to the weather. Confirmation of his hotness came when the man in the car looked him up and down.
"How much would it take to purchase your services for the night?" said the stranger.
Gojyo blinked. He glanced at his cell and calculated, all the while smiling and posing.
"How do I know you're not a cop?" said Gojyo. "Or, I don't know, some kind of serial killer?"
The man smiled and his eyes flashed bright in the streetlight.
"You don't," he said. "But I daresay it would be less damp and more profitable for you if you were to indulge me."
Gojyo named his price-hourly rate times six, plus a couple hundred on top for losing out on the rest of the night's potential customers. Not that there were any in this miserable weather. It was a big number.
"That'll buy you until the sun comes up," he said.
He smirked and expected to be turned down.
"Very well," said the man.
Fuck. The guy hadn't even blinked. Not good. Nobody carried that sort of money around to buy hookers, did they? Nobody but cops. The small lizard part of his brain told him to bail.
"I'd like to have a friend meet us," said the man. "Will that be a problem?"
Things clicked into place then, for Gojyo, and he relaxed. Heh. Poor guy had probably never picked up a hooker before in his life, and to put more pressure on, he and his-boyfriend? Fuck-buddy? Whatever- wanted to have a threesome. Gojyo stretches and watches the man watch his shirt ride up underneath his open jacket.
"It'll cost extra," said Gojyo. "But it's not a problem."
"Excellent," said the stranger.
The car door popped open. The man slid over, edging close to a suit that hung from the window, and unfolded a towel onto the seat closest to the door.
"Please, get in the car," he said.
So Gojyo got in, careful to sit on the towel and gritting his teeth trying not to lean back against the unprotected leather. He pulled the door closed.
"The driver could have done that for you, you know," said the man. "Excuse me."
He pushed a button and the divider between the seats rolled down.
"Take us home," said the stranger.
Gojyo saw the back of someone's head nod as the glass went up between them again. The car shifted into drive and started moving. Gojyo braced himself against the door handle, the only part of the car he could see that wasn't going to be ruined by the water that dripped off him.
"Another towel?" said the man.
"Please," said Gojyo.
And damned if this guy didn't lift up the middle section of the bench seat and pull out not one, but two big, fluffy, cream-colored towels. He handed them over and Gojyo noticed how bony his wrists were. They looked almost fragile. Gojyo draped one towel over his back and shoulders like a little kid's superhero cape. He gathered his hair into the other towel and squeezed.
"I suppose I ought to introduce myself," said the man. "My name is Hakkai."
"Gojyo," says Gojyo. "Sha Gojyo."
"Is that your real name?" said Hakkai.
"Does it matter if it is?" said Gojyo. "If you don't like it, you can call me anything you want."
Hakkai nodded.
"I see," he said. "Would you like to talk about the specifics of what I require this evening?"
Gojyo shrugged, and he noticed Hakkai noticing, again, how nicely his body moved. He smiled, showing off his teeth.
"If you're into leather, I'm outta here," said Gojyo. "But other than that…"
"I see," says Hakkai. "And if I said I wanted to dress you in leather?"
Hakkai looked at him, considering, clearly undressed Gojyo with his eyes.
"Black, or perhaps red to match your eyes," said Hakkai. "If I said I wanted to show you off at a crowded party with my hands on your back, would you tell me no?"
Gojyo swallowed hard. He said nothing, but the wheels were turning. Were these promises? Threats? Fantasies? All three were part and parcel in the trade. Damn. Whichever it was, this guy talked nice.
"We have an understanding, then?" said Hakkai.
Gojyo nodded, and Hakkai smiled.
It took Gojyo a few silent blocks to recover his cool. What did Hakkai really want? Most guys, you got them in a car and they wanted a blowjob or a hand-job. He lowered his eyelids and took a discreet look at Hakkai. The guy didn't look like he wanted anything. The crotch of his pants was disturbingly regular, like he hadn't just bought Gojyo's time for the express business of fucking. They could have been strangers sitting next to each other on a bus or something. Or maybe not. Hakkai didn't seem like the kind of guy to use mass transit. First class on an airplane, okay, but nothing less. Gojyo bit back a snort. He'd never even been on a plane, though all the movies he'd ever seen made first class look like this side of heaven. And that wasn't even including the mile-high club.
"Tell me what you're thinking," said Hakkai.
"Oh, nothing special," said Gojyo. "Flying first class."
Hakkai looked surprised for a split second. Then he laughed, and his face changed into something unpleasant.
"First class?" said Hakkai. "More legroom and a better seat does not change the fact that you are hurtling through the air in a fragile tin can, the least problem with which will send you to be crushed against the earth."
Gojyo noticed that Hakkai was clutching the oh-shit handle that was bolted above his window, his hands sharing space with the hanging suit. Gojyo cleared his throat.
"Don't like flying, huh?" said Gojyo.
"Not particularly," said Hakkai.
The skin around Hakkai's mouth and eyes was drawn tight. Gojyo had to salvage this before the guy kicked him out in the rain.
"So, uh," said Gojyo. "You want some more small talk, or d'you want to get some of your money's worth?"
Gojyo set the towels on the floor. He reached over with one hand and felt for the fly of Hakkai's pants.
"I don't know that I can…" said Hakkai.
Gojyo popped the button at the top and rasped the zipper-head all the way down.
"Just sit back and enjoy," said Gojyo. "No thinking necessary."
Gojyo worked Hakkai free of his pants and boxers. He was a little surprised to see that Hakkai was still soft, but he was careful not to show anything but professionalism. He can work with this.
"I really don't like airplanes," says Hakkai. "I apologize."
"Leave it to me," says Gojyo. "And no thinking, remember?"
He held Hakkai carefully with one hand and, with the other, fished a small packet of lube out of his pants pocket. He let go of Hakkai for a second and opened the lube, squeezing some into his hand. Gojyo stashed the little packet in a spot behind the head-rests, where he hoped it wouldn't get stepped on or flattened into the seats.
He slid that same, slicked up hand back onto Hakkai, gave him two or three long, smooth strokes and enjoyed the feel of it. Gojyo glanced up. Hakkai's hold on the oh-shit handle was a lot looser now, and two spots of color formed high on his cheekbones. Gojyo wondered if Hakkai was a lip-biter, or if it would be the insides of his cheeks that take the brunt of his restraint. Because it was clear to him that Hakkai played things close-really close-to his vest and Gojyo was really going to have to work for the satisfaction of a job well done. Gojyo stroked again, nice and easy, and he smiled at Hakkai's half-hard cock. Nothing to it, fear of airplanes or no.
Another block rolled by, and Hakkai practically begged in that oh-so-subtle, non-verbal way. His hips jerked in time with Gojyo's hand, and his hands were balled tightly as they pressed into the seat. Hakkai was a lip-biter after all: his top teeth dug a crescent into the soft, dark pink of his bottom lip. Gojyo was happy because he'd managed to get Hakkai from soft to seriously hard, and it looked like Hakkai might be approaching the finish line. He was also happy because Hakkai was a very pretty man, and simply watching him getting off was enough to rev Gojyo's engines. He kind of wished he'd worn a less tight pair of pants, though. Gojyo wondered, briefly, if Hakkai was the sort of john who was going to want him to come. He hoped so.
He looked at Hakkai: corded tendons in the hands, that pretty mouth held tight, the feverish green eyes, the precome welling out of his dick. Not long now, Gojyo knew. And no sooner did he think that than Hakkai came, spurted up over the top of Gojyo's fist, white-knuckled hands jammed beneath him, sweat covering his face and neck, and saying someone else's name. Kanaan? Who was that? Didn't matter, really. Gojyo kept stroking, wringing the come out of Hakkai until he fell back against his seat, wiped out. Gojyo uncurled his hand and set Hakkai down easy, though he didn't take his hand away. He smiled at those too-green eyes with the pupils that had eaten almost all the green away.
"You the kinda guy who wants to watch me clean you up with your tongue?" said Gojyo.
That statement made Hakkai's dick twitch again under Gojyo's hand. Hmm. Gojyo filed that away for later.
"No, thank you," said Hakkai. "Later, perhaps."
Gojyo laughed and took his hand away. He rubbed his fingers together and tried to decide whether or not it would do any good to wipe off on his jeans.
"What?" said Hakkai.
"You just thanked a hooker," said Gojyo. "Normal people don't do that, you know."
Hakkai handed him a handkerchief. Gojyo blinked and took it. For chrissakes, the guy has handkerchiefs and this one's got his-at least Gojyo assumed they're his-initials embroidered on the corners. Gojyo wiped his hands and Hakkai's come all over it. He crumpled the handkerchief into a ball and held it tight in his hand, not sure what to do with it. Hakkai gestured to him.
"There's no excuse for discourtesy, prostitute or no," said Hakkai. "I would like that handkerchief back when you're finished."
"Okay," said Gojyo.
He handed over the soiled cloth and watched, fascinated, as Hakkai folded it neatly into a triangle and stuck the whole thing into the breast pocket of the suit that hung over the door. Was that suit going to the cleaners? Or was Hakkai going to wear it somewhere first?
"So, what next?" said Gojyo.
He snuck a look at Hakkai's cock, still hanging out of his pants. He wondered if Hakkai was gonna want a blowjob next.
"We're not far from my apartment," said Hakkai. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"
Hakkai tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. Gojyo felt a little let down. Giving Hakkai a blowjob probably would have been the highlight of his week. Hakkai caught his eye and smiled, as if Gojyo weren't a hooker at all, but maybe a friend instead. And then Hakkai licked his fingers in a thoroughly hot way, cleaning the spots where he'd touched his dick putting it back into his clothes. Gojyo felt himself harden. He wondered what kind of a racket Hakkai was running. This whole thing felt more like a job interview than doing his usual wham-bam-here's-your-fucking-money johns. Except for the whole finger-licking thing. He wondered if Hakkai had noticed how he'd turned Gojyo on.
Gojyo shrugged.
"Not much to tell, really," said Gojyo. "You know the story. Small town, red-headed step-child moves to the big city after things go tragically wrong at home."
"I see," said Hakkai. "My condolences."
He sounded like he meant it. Gojyo waved his sympathy off. He didn't need it and he didn't want it. Especially not from a john.
"S'not so bad," says Gojyo. "Mind if I smoke?"
He dug in the pocket of his jeans. And then Gojyo remembered the rain and that his cigs were definitely un-smokable now. His entire pack was a solid, soggy lump. He pulled it out and looked at it, disgusted.
"May I offer you one of mine?" said Hakkai.
Hakkai fished in the door-console on his side and came up with a cigarette case, a real one. It looked silver plated, like Gojyo'd seen in old movies. Hakkai flipped the lid of it back.
"Thanks," said Gojyo. "The rain, you know?"
He took a cigarette and got his lighter out. It only took a couple flicks more than usual to get a usable spark. Gojyo took a long drag. He watched Hakkai watching him. He curled his lips a little more around the cigarette and watched Hakkai shift in his seat. Gojyo exhaled.
"Want me to roll down the window?" Gojyo said. "'S a nice car. Wouldn't want to smell it up."
"Hmm?" says Hakkai. "No, no it's all right."
And, as soon as Gojyo started looking around for the ashtray that he knew was somewhere in the seat, or the door, or the console between the seats, Hakkai handed him an honest-to-God ashtray, too. Gojyo felt like laughing.
"How much stuff do you keep in your car?" said Gojyo. "Not that I'm complaining. Just curious since we're getting to know each other."
"I believe you're mistaken," said Hakkai. "I'm getting to know you. I like your curiosity, however, it will have to wait. We're here."
Gojyo looked out the window. It was pretty boring-looking: brick, rectangular, four stories and in a decent enough neighborhood, from what Gojyo could see. The cars parked along the street were just a little flashy, and there was no trash at the curbs or people sitting on the stoops or walking on the sidewalk, with or without umbrellas. All the street lights were lit; none of the bulbs were out or broken.
The door beside Gojyo opened, and he slid off the car's seat and onto the street. It was still raining, but the --doorman? Driver?--held out an umbrella for them. Gojyo moved out of the way so Hakkai can get out, too. To Gojyo's surprise, Hakkai rested a hand on Gojyo's arm, balanced himself on Gojyo as he got out. Hakkai's grip was scary strong for such a fragile-looking hand.
Even so, Gojyo had to hang on to him because Hakkai stumbled over the curb and almost took a spill onto the cement of the sidewalk. Hakkai's elbow has a near miss with Gojyo's semi-hard dick. Hakkai looked sideways at Gojyo, and he let got of Gojyo's arm.
"Sir," said the man holding the umbrella. "Are you all right?"
Hakkai smiled.
"I'm fine, thank you," he said. "That curb surprises me every time. Take the car around, please."
"Yes sir," said the driver.
Hakkai took the umbrella himself, and the driver hurried to shut the car door behind them. The car pulled smoothly away from the curb, leaving Hakkai and Gojyo standing there.
"This whole place yours?" said Gojyo. "Or is a duplex?"
"It's mine," said Hakkai.
Hakkai went up the stairs, Gojyo a step behind. As Hakkai opened the front door, he turned around.
"I nearly forgot," said Hakkai. "There is the matter of your fee."
"Not so loud," said Gojyo. "You want us to get arrested?"
Gojyo looked around nervously, but there was no one else on the street. Hakkai handed him a thick envelope. Christ. Even the envelope screamed money and class. Gojyo opened it and gaped. It took him a minute to come up with a response.
"You know, people generally pay after services rendered," says Gojyo. "Getting their money's worth and all."
"But then what's to stop me having you for free?" says Hakkai. "I could injure or incapacitate you and then where would you be?"
Gojyo's brain stumbled over the words 'having you,' a jumble of gloriously filthy images running through his mind, before he went on to process the rest of what Hakkai had said. He took a long, hard look at Hakkai, trying to decide whether he was going to be one of the crazy ones. His spine tingled in a not-all-good way. Gojyo pocketed the money anyway.
"In my experience, people who give the money first try to take it back at the end," said Gojyo.
He felt the scars on his face pull as he smiled at Hakkai.
"Shall we?" said Hakkai.
He held the door open for Gojyo. Gojyo stepped inside and waited on the welcome mat. He looked around. The place was laid out like some kind of museum. There were expensive looking rugs, vases on pedestals with flowers, honest to God paintings on the walls. The floors were hardwood, polished so much that they reflected the soft lighting like a mirror. And that was just what he could see in this entrance hallway thing. His eyes followed the walls back around, and…shit. Seriously?
There was a staircase right near the entryway, and two people stood in front of it. Gojyo's brain filled in the blanks. Servants. Hakkai had servants. There was a maid in a fluffy little black number, and a man dressed in the same black-and-white color scheme. A butler? Did Hakkai have a butler? Who has a butler? His guesses at Hakkai's wealth jumped up a few tax brackets.
"Welcome home, sir," said the man.
The woman said nothing, but Gojyo could see her sneaking looks at him. He caught her at it and gave her a big, slow wink. She turned crimson and stared at the floor.
"Gojyo will be staying the night," said Hakkai. "Run a bath for him, please."
The maid nodded and ran off up the stairs. Gojyo followed her with his eyes. Nice legs.
"We are expecting a second guest in two hours' time," said Hakkai. "Please keep an eye out for him."
The butler nodded.
"Will sir require anything else this evening?" he said.
"Please escort Gojyo upstairs," said Hakkai. "I'll be up shortly."
Hakkai sighed and turned to Gojyo.
"I expect there are messages for me," he said. "Business is a perpetual, fluid thing. Please, make yourself at home."
Hakkai gave Gojyo a pat on the shoulder and the chastest kiss ever on the cheek, like something someone'd do for a younger sister. It still turns Gojyo on. Hakkai nodded at the butler, and the butler bowed. Gojyo watched Hakkai walk down the hall.
"If you'll follow me, sir," says the butler.
Gojyo looked from Hakkai to the butler. Without waiting to see if Gojyo actually does as he's told, the butler started up the stairs. Gojyo took another look down the hall after Hakkai. There were several doors, but he had no way to know which of them Hakkai might be behind. Was he going to an office? Probably. It didn't seem like Hakkai was the kind of guy to have just one phone with one answering machine in his kitchen. For the first time, Gojyo wondered what sort of business Hakkai was in. Whatever it was, it had made him rich, for sure.
The butler coughed, and Gojyo jumped. He hurried up the stairs to catch up. They went up two more flights, and by that time Gojyo wished they would take a break. It wasn't just that there were stairs, it was that it was stairs followed by a hallway the length of the building, followed by another set of stairs at that end of the house, followed by another hallway. He felt like he was seven years old, back at home, laid out in front of the tv playing donkey-kong and waiting for his mom-step-mom, really-to come in and unplug the set, except there weren't any barrels rolling the fuck at him. There was just miles of hallways, all done out in the same way as the downstairs hall.
Gojyo was panting by the time they reached the fourth floor. He groaned at the thought of trudging down another hallway: this place was a lot bigger than it looked from the outside. But, thankfully, this hallway stopped a lot sooner than the rest. It ended in a kind of T, with the long bar being the main hallway and the cross-part being a set of three doors. They were all those double French doors, too, and Gojyo could just bet they were made with real, solid wood. In fact, he'd be surprised if there was an inch of hollow-core or particle board in this whole house.
The butler led him to the right-hand door. Gojyo reached for the knob, but the butler coughed again. Gojyo dropped his hand.
"Allow me, sir," said the butler.
The man made a great ceremony of opening the doors. Gojyo stepped inside. The temperature inside must have been fifteen degrees hotter. And the air was wet, too, full of steam. He heard water running.
"May I take your shoes?"
Gojyo jumped again. The maid appeared out of fucking nowhere, and she was already easing the boots off his feet before he even said yes. The butler reached for Gojyo's jacket, but Gojyo shook his head no. He thought of the fat envelope of cash in there. No way was he handing it off, not when he hadn't had the chance to count exactly how much was in it. He knew about hired help. Hell, he'd been hired help. Was hired help, if you counted what he did as 'helping.' Poor? Check. Desperate? Check. And that much cash in an envelope, unattended? No way it wouldn't lose something out of it.
The maid finished getting his feet out of the boots. She took them in one hand, looked at him briefly, nodded, and walked away. Gojyo admired her legs again. The butler cleared his throat.
"Please wait here," he said. "Sir will be along shortly."
And the butler retreated, shutting the door behind him.
Gojyo was alone.
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Aaaand, to refresh your memories, here's the (now) second part!
Feedback, concrit, and so forth welcomed with open arms.
~later
In between prompt madness, though, I finally finished that first portion of the My Fair Lady Saiyuki story. ^__^ And by first portion, I mean the part that comes first in the story, not the part that was written first.
I bring it to share! Like the previous bit, it's definitely up there on the naughty scale. Hence! I'm using the naughty content filter thingymajig. (Maybe it's time to change my settings and have my journal as a whole warn for adult content? I put so little of it on here, though...)
Summary: A riff on MFL, starring hooker!Gojyo as Eliza, trying to work his way up in the world. Heh.
Notes: Hard R/MA this part, R-ish rating over all. (It's a story about hookers and stuff, for crying out loud.) Swearing, hooker!Gojyo doing his thing.
=======
Gojyo had shit luck getting johns that night. It was raining and everyone was too busy scurrying home under umbrellas to pay any attention to him. Even the guys getting out of the sleazy places weren't looking. Gojyo knew it was time to call it quits. He sighed, blowing water out of his face. Maybe Banri wouldn't pull his usual, and there'd be rent money waiting at home. It was due next week…Gojyo snorted. Hah. Like that ever happened. Gojyo'd just have to make up the difference tomorrow night.
He headed through a back alley, cutting out a couple blocks worth of walking to get to the subway station. If he'd known earlier that the weather was going to be this lousy, he would've caught the last train going through where he'd been working. As it was, it was thirty blocks to the closest all-night stop. Gojyo sighed. His toes were already squishing in his (dammit) second-best pair of boots.
At the end of the alley, where it intersected with a larger street, there was a car coming, headlights bouncing over the wet streets. Gojyo waited for it to pass him by. He hoped that it wasn't some dumbass teenager waiting for him to walk out so that they could speed up and splash him or, worse, play chicken and try to clip him. Instead, he watched the car slow down at the end of the curb, its blinker on. It glided to a stop.
Gojyo walked up, wincing at all the pothole-puddles all around. The back window, splattered with rain, rolled down with a hum, and Gojyo stared into the prettiest face he'd ever seen. Like too perfect to be fucking true. This guy, he was like a doll or something. A mannequin, maybe. Gojyo wondered how much of it was real-how much was God's gift and how much was full-on makeup. Plastic surgery, maybe? Were those green eyes contacts? He wasn't sure. And why would such a hot guy be looking for a hooker? Gojyo put on his best smile. He didn't want this one to get away.
"Hey there, sweet thing," said Gojyo. "See something you like?"
Gojyo leaned against the car, one elbow on the roof. He let one of his hands drift down, tracing his chest and his abs before he cupped comfortably around his groin. He looked good, he knew, despite the rain that pissed down on him. Hell, maybe he looked even better than normal, though he knew his hair was going to frizz like a motherfucker as soon as he got out of the wet. He was soaked and cold. But he knew his body was looking great, like high definition great. His clothes clung in all the right places and were extra see-through than usual thanks to the weather. Confirmation of his hotness came when the man in the car looked him up and down.
"How much would it take to purchase your services for the night?" said the stranger.
Gojyo blinked. He glanced at his cell and calculated, all the while smiling and posing.
"How do I know you're not a cop?" said Gojyo. "Or, I don't know, some kind of serial killer?"
The man smiled and his eyes flashed bright in the streetlight.
"You don't," he said. "But I daresay it would be less damp and more profitable for you if you were to indulge me."
Gojyo named his price-hourly rate times six, plus a couple hundred on top for losing out on the rest of the night's potential customers. Not that there were any in this miserable weather. It was a big number.
"That'll buy you until the sun comes up," he said.
He smirked and expected to be turned down.
"Very well," said the man.
Fuck. The guy hadn't even blinked. Not good. Nobody carried that sort of money around to buy hookers, did they? Nobody but cops. The small lizard part of his brain told him to bail.
"I'd like to have a friend meet us," said the man. "Will that be a problem?"
Things clicked into place then, for Gojyo, and he relaxed. Heh. Poor guy had probably never picked up a hooker before in his life, and to put more pressure on, he and his-boyfriend? Fuck-buddy? Whatever- wanted to have a threesome. Gojyo stretches and watches the man watch his shirt ride up underneath his open jacket.
"It'll cost extra," said Gojyo. "But it's not a problem."
"Excellent," said the stranger.
The car door popped open. The man slid over, edging close to a suit that hung from the window, and unfolded a towel onto the seat closest to the door.
"Please, get in the car," he said.
So Gojyo got in, careful to sit on the towel and gritting his teeth trying not to lean back against the unprotected leather. He pulled the door closed.
"The driver could have done that for you, you know," said the man. "Excuse me."
He pushed a button and the divider between the seats rolled down.
"Take us home," said the stranger.
Gojyo saw the back of someone's head nod as the glass went up between them again. The car shifted into drive and started moving. Gojyo braced himself against the door handle, the only part of the car he could see that wasn't going to be ruined by the water that dripped off him.
"Another towel?" said the man.
"Please," said Gojyo.
And damned if this guy didn't lift up the middle section of the bench seat and pull out not one, but two big, fluffy, cream-colored towels. He handed them over and Gojyo noticed how bony his wrists were. They looked almost fragile. Gojyo draped one towel over his back and shoulders like a little kid's superhero cape. He gathered his hair into the other towel and squeezed.
"I suppose I ought to introduce myself," said the man. "My name is Hakkai."
"Gojyo," says Gojyo. "Sha Gojyo."
"Is that your real name?" said Hakkai.
"Does it matter if it is?" said Gojyo. "If you don't like it, you can call me anything you want."
Hakkai nodded.
"I see," he said. "Would you like to talk about the specifics of what I require this evening?"
Gojyo shrugged, and he noticed Hakkai noticing, again, how nicely his body moved. He smiled, showing off his teeth.
"If you're into leather, I'm outta here," said Gojyo. "But other than that…"
"I see," says Hakkai. "And if I said I wanted to dress you in leather?"
Hakkai looked at him, considering, clearly undressed Gojyo with his eyes.
"Black, or perhaps red to match your eyes," said Hakkai. "If I said I wanted to show you off at a crowded party with my hands on your back, would you tell me no?"
Gojyo swallowed hard. He said nothing, but the wheels were turning. Were these promises? Threats? Fantasies? All three were part and parcel in the trade. Damn. Whichever it was, this guy talked nice.
"We have an understanding, then?" said Hakkai.
Gojyo nodded, and Hakkai smiled.
It took Gojyo a few silent blocks to recover his cool. What did Hakkai really want? Most guys, you got them in a car and they wanted a blowjob or a hand-job. He lowered his eyelids and took a discreet look at Hakkai. The guy didn't look like he wanted anything. The crotch of his pants was disturbingly regular, like he hadn't just bought Gojyo's time for the express business of fucking. They could have been strangers sitting next to each other on a bus or something. Or maybe not. Hakkai didn't seem like the kind of guy to use mass transit. First class on an airplane, okay, but nothing less. Gojyo bit back a snort. He'd never even been on a plane, though all the movies he'd ever seen made first class look like this side of heaven. And that wasn't even including the mile-high club.
"Tell me what you're thinking," said Hakkai.
"Oh, nothing special," said Gojyo. "Flying first class."
Hakkai looked surprised for a split second. Then he laughed, and his face changed into something unpleasant.
"First class?" said Hakkai. "More legroom and a better seat does not change the fact that you are hurtling through the air in a fragile tin can, the least problem with which will send you to be crushed against the earth."
Gojyo noticed that Hakkai was clutching the oh-shit handle that was bolted above his window, his hands sharing space with the hanging suit. Gojyo cleared his throat.
"Don't like flying, huh?" said Gojyo.
"Not particularly," said Hakkai.
The skin around Hakkai's mouth and eyes was drawn tight. Gojyo had to salvage this before the guy kicked him out in the rain.
"So, uh," said Gojyo. "You want some more small talk, or d'you want to get some of your money's worth?"
Gojyo set the towels on the floor. He reached over with one hand and felt for the fly of Hakkai's pants.
"I don't know that I can…" said Hakkai.
Gojyo popped the button at the top and rasped the zipper-head all the way down.
"Just sit back and enjoy," said Gojyo. "No thinking necessary."
Gojyo worked Hakkai free of his pants and boxers. He was a little surprised to see that Hakkai was still soft, but he was careful not to show anything but professionalism. He can work with this.
"I really don't like airplanes," says Hakkai. "I apologize."
"Leave it to me," says Gojyo. "And no thinking, remember?"
He held Hakkai carefully with one hand and, with the other, fished a small packet of lube out of his pants pocket. He let go of Hakkai for a second and opened the lube, squeezing some into his hand. Gojyo stashed the little packet in a spot behind the head-rests, where he hoped it wouldn't get stepped on or flattened into the seats.
He slid that same, slicked up hand back onto Hakkai, gave him two or three long, smooth strokes and enjoyed the feel of it. Gojyo glanced up. Hakkai's hold on the oh-shit handle was a lot looser now, and two spots of color formed high on his cheekbones. Gojyo wondered if Hakkai was a lip-biter, or if it would be the insides of his cheeks that take the brunt of his restraint. Because it was clear to him that Hakkai played things close-really close-to his vest and Gojyo was really going to have to work for the satisfaction of a job well done. Gojyo stroked again, nice and easy, and he smiled at Hakkai's half-hard cock. Nothing to it, fear of airplanes or no.
Another block rolled by, and Hakkai practically begged in that oh-so-subtle, non-verbal way. His hips jerked in time with Gojyo's hand, and his hands were balled tightly as they pressed into the seat. Hakkai was a lip-biter after all: his top teeth dug a crescent into the soft, dark pink of his bottom lip. Gojyo was happy because he'd managed to get Hakkai from soft to seriously hard, and it looked like Hakkai might be approaching the finish line. He was also happy because Hakkai was a very pretty man, and simply watching him getting off was enough to rev Gojyo's engines. He kind of wished he'd worn a less tight pair of pants, though. Gojyo wondered, briefly, if Hakkai was the sort of john who was going to want him to come. He hoped so.
He looked at Hakkai: corded tendons in the hands, that pretty mouth held tight, the feverish green eyes, the precome welling out of his dick. Not long now, Gojyo knew. And no sooner did he think that than Hakkai came, spurted up over the top of Gojyo's fist, white-knuckled hands jammed beneath him, sweat covering his face and neck, and saying someone else's name. Kanaan? Who was that? Didn't matter, really. Gojyo kept stroking, wringing the come out of Hakkai until he fell back against his seat, wiped out. Gojyo uncurled his hand and set Hakkai down easy, though he didn't take his hand away. He smiled at those too-green eyes with the pupils that had eaten almost all the green away.
"You the kinda guy who wants to watch me clean you up with your tongue?" said Gojyo.
That statement made Hakkai's dick twitch again under Gojyo's hand. Hmm. Gojyo filed that away for later.
"No, thank you," said Hakkai. "Later, perhaps."
Gojyo laughed and took his hand away. He rubbed his fingers together and tried to decide whether or not it would do any good to wipe off on his jeans.
"What?" said Hakkai.
"You just thanked a hooker," said Gojyo. "Normal people don't do that, you know."
Hakkai handed him a handkerchief. Gojyo blinked and took it. For chrissakes, the guy has handkerchiefs and this one's got his-at least Gojyo assumed they're his-initials embroidered on the corners. Gojyo wiped his hands and Hakkai's come all over it. He crumpled the handkerchief into a ball and held it tight in his hand, not sure what to do with it. Hakkai gestured to him.
"There's no excuse for discourtesy, prostitute or no," said Hakkai. "I would like that handkerchief back when you're finished."
"Okay," said Gojyo.
He handed over the soiled cloth and watched, fascinated, as Hakkai folded it neatly into a triangle and stuck the whole thing into the breast pocket of the suit that hung over the door. Was that suit going to the cleaners? Or was Hakkai going to wear it somewhere first?
"So, what next?" said Gojyo.
He snuck a look at Hakkai's cock, still hanging out of his pants. He wondered if Hakkai was gonna want a blowjob next.
"We're not far from my apartment," said Hakkai. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"
Hakkai tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. Gojyo felt a little let down. Giving Hakkai a blowjob probably would have been the highlight of his week. Hakkai caught his eye and smiled, as if Gojyo weren't a hooker at all, but maybe a friend instead. And then Hakkai licked his fingers in a thoroughly hot way, cleaning the spots where he'd touched his dick putting it back into his clothes. Gojyo felt himself harden. He wondered what kind of a racket Hakkai was running. This whole thing felt more like a job interview than doing his usual wham-bam-here's-your-fucking-money johns. Except for the whole finger-licking thing. He wondered if Hakkai had noticed how he'd turned Gojyo on.
Gojyo shrugged.
"Not much to tell, really," said Gojyo. "You know the story. Small town, red-headed step-child moves to the big city after things go tragically wrong at home."
"I see," said Hakkai. "My condolences."
He sounded like he meant it. Gojyo waved his sympathy off. He didn't need it and he didn't want it. Especially not from a john.
"S'not so bad," says Gojyo. "Mind if I smoke?"
He dug in the pocket of his jeans. And then Gojyo remembered the rain and that his cigs were definitely un-smokable now. His entire pack was a solid, soggy lump. He pulled it out and looked at it, disgusted.
"May I offer you one of mine?" said Hakkai.
Hakkai fished in the door-console on his side and came up with a cigarette case, a real one. It looked silver plated, like Gojyo'd seen in old movies. Hakkai flipped the lid of it back.
"Thanks," said Gojyo. "The rain, you know?"
He took a cigarette and got his lighter out. It only took a couple flicks more than usual to get a usable spark. Gojyo took a long drag. He watched Hakkai watching him. He curled his lips a little more around the cigarette and watched Hakkai shift in his seat. Gojyo exhaled.
"Want me to roll down the window?" Gojyo said. "'S a nice car. Wouldn't want to smell it up."
"Hmm?" says Hakkai. "No, no it's all right."
And, as soon as Gojyo started looking around for the ashtray that he knew was somewhere in the seat, or the door, or the console between the seats, Hakkai handed him an honest-to-God ashtray, too. Gojyo felt like laughing.
"How much stuff do you keep in your car?" said Gojyo. "Not that I'm complaining. Just curious since we're getting to know each other."
"I believe you're mistaken," said Hakkai. "I'm getting to know you. I like your curiosity, however, it will have to wait. We're here."
Gojyo looked out the window. It was pretty boring-looking: brick, rectangular, four stories and in a decent enough neighborhood, from what Gojyo could see. The cars parked along the street were just a little flashy, and there was no trash at the curbs or people sitting on the stoops or walking on the sidewalk, with or without umbrellas. All the street lights were lit; none of the bulbs were out or broken.
The door beside Gojyo opened, and he slid off the car's seat and onto the street. It was still raining, but the --doorman? Driver?--held out an umbrella for them. Gojyo moved out of the way so Hakkai can get out, too. To Gojyo's surprise, Hakkai rested a hand on Gojyo's arm, balanced himself on Gojyo as he got out. Hakkai's grip was scary strong for such a fragile-looking hand.
Even so, Gojyo had to hang on to him because Hakkai stumbled over the curb and almost took a spill onto the cement of the sidewalk. Hakkai's elbow has a near miss with Gojyo's semi-hard dick. Hakkai looked sideways at Gojyo, and he let got of Gojyo's arm.
"Sir," said the man holding the umbrella. "Are you all right?"
Hakkai smiled.
"I'm fine, thank you," he said. "That curb surprises me every time. Take the car around, please."
"Yes sir," said the driver.
Hakkai took the umbrella himself, and the driver hurried to shut the car door behind them. The car pulled smoothly away from the curb, leaving Hakkai and Gojyo standing there.
"This whole place yours?" said Gojyo. "Or is a duplex?"
"It's mine," said Hakkai.
Hakkai went up the stairs, Gojyo a step behind. As Hakkai opened the front door, he turned around.
"I nearly forgot," said Hakkai. "There is the matter of your fee."
"Not so loud," said Gojyo. "You want us to get arrested?"
Gojyo looked around nervously, but there was no one else on the street. Hakkai handed him a thick envelope. Christ. Even the envelope screamed money and class. Gojyo opened it and gaped. It took him a minute to come up with a response.
"You know, people generally pay after services rendered," says Gojyo. "Getting their money's worth and all."
"But then what's to stop me having you for free?" says Hakkai. "I could injure or incapacitate you and then where would you be?"
Gojyo's brain stumbled over the words 'having you,' a jumble of gloriously filthy images running through his mind, before he went on to process the rest of what Hakkai had said. He took a long, hard look at Hakkai, trying to decide whether he was going to be one of the crazy ones. His spine tingled in a not-all-good way. Gojyo pocketed the money anyway.
"In my experience, people who give the money first try to take it back at the end," said Gojyo.
He felt the scars on his face pull as he smiled at Hakkai.
"Shall we?" said Hakkai.
He held the door open for Gojyo. Gojyo stepped inside and waited on the welcome mat. He looked around. The place was laid out like some kind of museum. There were expensive looking rugs, vases on pedestals with flowers, honest to God paintings on the walls. The floors were hardwood, polished so much that they reflected the soft lighting like a mirror. And that was just what he could see in this entrance hallway thing. His eyes followed the walls back around, and…shit. Seriously?
There was a staircase right near the entryway, and two people stood in front of it. Gojyo's brain filled in the blanks. Servants. Hakkai had servants. There was a maid in a fluffy little black number, and a man dressed in the same black-and-white color scheme. A butler? Did Hakkai have a butler? Who has a butler? His guesses at Hakkai's wealth jumped up a few tax brackets.
"Welcome home, sir," said the man.
The woman said nothing, but Gojyo could see her sneaking looks at him. He caught her at it and gave her a big, slow wink. She turned crimson and stared at the floor.
"Gojyo will be staying the night," said Hakkai. "Run a bath for him, please."
The maid nodded and ran off up the stairs. Gojyo followed her with his eyes. Nice legs.
"We are expecting a second guest in two hours' time," said Hakkai. "Please keep an eye out for him."
The butler nodded.
"Will sir require anything else this evening?" he said.
"Please escort Gojyo upstairs," said Hakkai. "I'll be up shortly."
Hakkai sighed and turned to Gojyo.
"I expect there are messages for me," he said. "Business is a perpetual, fluid thing. Please, make yourself at home."
Hakkai gave Gojyo a pat on the shoulder and the chastest kiss ever on the cheek, like something someone'd do for a younger sister. It still turns Gojyo on. Hakkai nodded at the butler, and the butler bowed. Gojyo watched Hakkai walk down the hall.
"If you'll follow me, sir," says the butler.
Gojyo looked from Hakkai to the butler. Without waiting to see if Gojyo actually does as he's told, the butler started up the stairs. Gojyo took another look down the hall after Hakkai. There were several doors, but he had no way to know which of them Hakkai might be behind. Was he going to an office? Probably. It didn't seem like Hakkai was the kind of guy to have just one phone with one answering machine in his kitchen. For the first time, Gojyo wondered what sort of business Hakkai was in. Whatever it was, it had made him rich, for sure.
The butler coughed, and Gojyo jumped. He hurried up the stairs to catch up. They went up two more flights, and by that time Gojyo wished they would take a break. It wasn't just that there were stairs, it was that it was stairs followed by a hallway the length of the building, followed by another set of stairs at that end of the house, followed by another hallway. He felt like he was seven years old, back at home, laid out in front of the tv playing donkey-kong and waiting for his mom-step-mom, really-to come in and unplug the set, except there weren't any barrels rolling the fuck at him. There was just miles of hallways, all done out in the same way as the downstairs hall.
Gojyo was panting by the time they reached the fourth floor. He groaned at the thought of trudging down another hallway: this place was a lot bigger than it looked from the outside. But, thankfully, this hallway stopped a lot sooner than the rest. It ended in a kind of T, with the long bar being the main hallway and the cross-part being a set of three doors. They were all those double French doors, too, and Gojyo could just bet they were made with real, solid wood. In fact, he'd be surprised if there was an inch of hollow-core or particle board in this whole house.
The butler led him to the right-hand door. Gojyo reached for the knob, but the butler coughed again. Gojyo dropped his hand.
"Allow me, sir," said the butler.
The man made a great ceremony of opening the doors. Gojyo stepped inside. The temperature inside must have been fifteen degrees hotter. And the air was wet, too, full of steam. He heard water running.
"May I take your shoes?"
Gojyo jumped again. The maid appeared out of fucking nowhere, and she was already easing the boots off his feet before he even said yes. The butler reached for Gojyo's jacket, but Gojyo shook his head no. He thought of the fat envelope of cash in there. No way was he handing it off, not when he hadn't had the chance to count exactly how much was in it. He knew about hired help. Hell, he'd been hired help. Was hired help, if you counted what he did as 'helping.' Poor? Check. Desperate? Check. And that much cash in an envelope, unattended? No way it wouldn't lose something out of it.
The maid finished getting his feet out of the boots. She took them in one hand, looked at him briefly, nodded, and walked away. Gojyo admired her legs again. The butler cleared his throat.
"Please wait here," he said. "Sir will be along shortly."
And the butler retreated, shutting the door behind him.
Gojyo was alone.
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Aaaand, to refresh your memories, here's the (now) second part!
Feedback, concrit, and so forth welcomed with open arms.
~later