![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
new_katePorn time! Sure took me a while.
Title: The Wheel
Author: Newkate
Fandom: Saiyuki
Rating: this part overall is NC-17 for m/m smut, spandex and 5's POV being the dirtiest POV ever.
Notes and warnings: Reincarnation fic. Multiple pairings. Completed, in four parts.
Betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hibem.
Part One: Shift
Part Two: Dance (Ch. 3-4)
Ch. 1, Ch. 2
They had somehow scored a table near the fire exit. Holden already had a bottle and a shot glass in front of him, and the kid was sulking into a rainbow-coloured fruity cocktail mostly buried under orange peel ribbons, gaudy paper umbrellas and labyrinth-like twisted straws.
“Hey,” I said. “I want to apologise for Gene being, y’know, himself. It’s not you, guys, he’s always like that.”
Holden brightened up a little, pulled back a chair, motioned for me to join them. Rishi glared at me threateningly from under his gelled bangs; I stuck out my tongue at him while Holden wasn’t looking and sat down.
“So…” I cleared my throat, nervous for no reason, but Holden was grinning at me with genuine interest, and that was encouraging. “You obviously don’t come here often, heh… Um, are you guys together?”
That wasn’t the best thing to ask at this stage, but it needed to be gotten out of the way. Wouldn’t stop me if they were, but I’d have to change my tactics a little.
“No, you gross pervert,” said Rishi. “Mr York is my history teacher! That’s like incest, and also unethical, right, Mr York?”
“Exactly,” nodded Holden, “Technically a former teacher, but nevertheless. May I direct the same question at you, Todd?”
“Uh?” the sound of his voice caressing my name was way too distracting.
“What about you and Eugene?”
Hah, me and Eugene. That was a topic that could keep the conversation going for a while. But I knew what he was asking about.
“We’re not exclusive,” I said. It was a tried and tested answer, perfect for all occasions. People seemed to take it any way they wanted to, from “I’m looking for a quickie, no strings attached” to “I’m so unhappy, pet me”, and I didn’t care what they thought as long as I was getting laid.
“What’s that mean?” gloomily asked Rishi. Trust the immature idiot to go and ruin all my subtlety. Instead of being a good former teacher and explaining it to the kid while also giving me some vital clues, Holden just turned to me, all ears and eyes and sexy sweet lips – and hell, I was not prepared to deal with that.
“Look it up, zit-face,” I said in a dignified manner. “And seriously, I’d try to score elsewhere if I were you, unless death threats and frostbites are a turn-on. Want me to set you up with someone fun?”
“No,” he sighed and sadly sucked on the straw. “I don’t want anybody else.”
“Rishi,” Holden put a comforting hand on his wrist, and I lost all sympathy I might have had for that brat. He was getting more than enough sympathy already. “We came here so you could meet people, and you should. You can’t let one bad experience ruin your whole night. You didn’t think this would be any easier than dating girls, did you?”
The kid shook his head, reached to rub at his eyes and would have smudged the eyeliner all over if Holden didn’t stop him in time. I started to suspect it was Mr York himself who glammed up his dear pupil like this.
“I just don’t feel like it anymore,” said Rishi. “I don’t think I want to be dating yet.”
“That’s fair, there is no need to rush,” quickly agreed Holden. “But here you have an opportunity to make friends with boys your own age who know exactly what are you going through. I think you should do that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess…”
“Maybe some dancing will put you in a better mood?” innocently suggested Holden. “Everybody seems to be having a lot of fun, look – oh, dear, bad example.”
“Um,” said Rishi, eyes glued to the couple on the edge of the dance floor. Nothing really exciting was going down yet, this guy was just hugging his buddy from behind, grinding against the man’s ass and tongue-fucking his ear, perfectly matching the beat. “Okay, I think I’ll go dance some. Will you be all right here by yourself, Mr York?”
“He’s not by himself, stupid,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, that’s what’s worrying me,” said Rishi, narrowing his eyes. “You better not…”
“Rishi, be nice,” said Holden with a hint of steel ringing in his voice. Rishi scowled at me, noisily slurped some more fruit juice and finally left the table.
We grinned at each other. Holden’s cheeks had a bit of a pinkish glow, but I couldn’t tell if that was me or the vodka – the bottle was almost third-empty when I arrived. He refilled his shot glass and held it out to me:
“Do you mind sharing?”
“I’m driving,” I said, feeling like the biggest dork on the planet. “But I wouldn’t mind, if I wasn’t. And thank you anyways. So, first night out, so to speak, right?”
“Yes, yes,” he turned to the dance floor, glanced at Rishi affectionately, gave him a wave. The boy was already getting into it, swinging his arms and shaking that booty like he meant it. He was going to fit right in. “Rishi confided in me last year - about being attracted to men, that is. I promised that once he had graduated and was of age, I would help him explore his sexuality in a safe, friendly environment. This place was surprisingly easy to find. Frankly – ah, don’t laugh, but I expected secrecy, initiation rites, special handshakes…”
“Yeah, times change, thankfully, we’re here and they are getting used to it,” I said, tracing the lines of his face with my eyes. He was perfect; it was freaky how perfect he was. “But I actually meant you. Judging by your getup, you’re not really into clubbing, are you?”
“As your friend Eugene would say, I’m not here to have a good time,” he said lightly, not self-conscious at all. “At least I didn’t expect to be until I saw you. I’m here strictly in a chaperone’s capacity.”
Did you just - blatantly hit on me, you sneaky fiend, I wanted to ask, but forced myself to play it cool and laughed instead:
“Chaperone? This is not a frigging debutant ball, Holden! Getting laid is sort of the point of the exercise, you know.”
“Well, yes, but I wanted to make sure he is getting laid by someone suitable.”
“So if you came here to…”
“Mm?” he tilted his head back and poured that shot of vodka right down his throat, still keeping eyes on me. His neck was long, slim; I could see every tendon stretching in sharp relief under smooth thin skin.
“Holden, are you gay?” I asked, directly and upfront, because damn, if you couldn’t be sure that the guys you meet in a gay club swing your way, then there really were no absolutes, like Gene always said.
“Are you asking about my prior experiences or where I’d place myself on a Kinsey scale?” he asked back, ruthlessly toying with me. Maybe Gene was right about him and he really was diabolically evil or something.
“I’m asking if I’m barking up the wrong tree here.”
“No,” he said simply, studying his hands. He had scarily long fingers; my breath quickened at the thought of what he could do for me with those if I only played my cards right. “You are not.”
“Okay. Ooookaay!” I giggled, giddy and anxious. He looked almost shy, too cute for words. “Okay, Holden, gimme a sec to catch my breath, and I will dazzle the hell outta you with my wit and charm, promise. But first - ”
I reached over and pulled his glasses off. They weren’t strong, maybe even weaker than Gene’s reading specs. He let me do it, blinked for a couple of seconds, and then let his eyes focus on me.
“Green,” I said, completely bowled over. “Nice.”
“And your eyes are the colour of black cherries,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Beautiful. But I wish you’d pull your hair back. I don’t understand why you hide such a face.”
Black – frigging - cherries? Oh, definitely gay! I thought about making a trip to the men’s and attempting a ponytail without a comb – well, Gene had styling products upstairs, of course, only I couldn’t come up with a good explanation for why I needed his keys right now. But then I decided that would look like I was trying too hard. With a guy like Holden you had to be suave and macho, not to rush things, loosen him up slowly. He had to be courted.
“Do you…” I started, and he cut me off, probably more used to picking up chicks, carrying the conversation.
“Tell me about yourself, Todd. What do you do for a living? If that’s not a – if you do – is it all right for me to ask? I’m not sure what the proper etiquette is, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah. I’m…”
I couldn’t tell him the truth, no way could I tell him the truth, but I couldn’t think of a good lie quick enough. The music was too distracting – Village People again, fucking too-catchy beat, and not like I had anything against YMCA as such, hell, most of my income was coming from the boys of the Y, but this song, and its chirpy chorus – and every single asshole in the place was singing along, of course - made it impossible to think of anything more that spelling letters with your arms.
“I work in construction. You know. Hard helmet, boots, white tank, that kind of thing,” I said.
“Ah.”
“Yeah. We carry heavy things, and weld stuff, and then we get all, uh, sweaty and oily, and, and take a shower and go home. Huh, not as exciting as I wanted it to sound.”
He laughed – a little breathlessly, in this carefully quiet way like people probably laugh in museums and libraries, amused as all hell by the relevance of the second duck from the left on a portrait of Mary Magdalene or the hilarious holes in the theory of relativity or something. Oh, I just had to get him, I had to. He was a once in a lifetime adventure – I knew I couldn’t keep a guy like that, of course, but I had to taste him at least, to know what he’s like.
I saw Gene crossing the dance floor, easily as usual, saw Rishi stop mid-shimmy, turn away from a group of buff boys he’s been making eyes at, follow Gene like in a trance, like that rat after the flute. Gene ignored him, nodded to Holden, walked up to me, barked out an order:
“Upstairs. Now.”
“What? Hello, I’m in the middle of something here, you dickwad, I’m not just going to…”
“You are trying to score,” said Gene, eyes cold, half-lidded. “That’s what I’m offering. Come on, I don’t have all night.”
I didn’t know what to say to that because I didn’t have any words to describe the depth of my outrage and also I was stunned into silence by the fact that my dick, apparently, loved Gene’s idea.
Well, really, massive jerk or not, Gene was Gene, and I’ve never once said no to him before, never even thought I could. Wasn’t just because it’d take some inhuman willpower to say no to Gene in all his golden furious glory, especially after you’ve tapped that ass and knew how good he could be. But also, for all the grief and trouble, he always was my – something – mine. And that was enough, more than enough, in fact. When nothing else seemed worth it, just the thought of his solid infuriating presence alone could keep me going, because if scum like me had Gene, it wasn’t all that bad. Who knew it would only take a pair of pretty green eyes for me to forget all that. Oh well, what else was new: Todd’s a slut, Todd’s an attention whore, Todd’s an ungrateful little cocksucker, yeah, and I guessed I probably should remember that saying about pie in the sky, leave Holden alone and go upstairs to apologize to Gene as best I could.
Holden’s hand covered mine, not the way he touched Rishi before – his fingers slipped over mine, pressed into my palm, stroked a little. Fuck. Fuck.
“Don’t mind me, if that’s what it is. I’m here till closing; we can carry on with this conversation later, if you like,” he said.
“Conversation?” huffed Gene. “Enjoying a stimulating intellectual exchange, were you?”
“Just chatting,” said Holden politely, “Getting to know each other.”
They were looking at each other, drawing the pause out, and the longer it went the edgier it was making me. Something was happening, and I couldn’t put my finger on it till I saw Rishi’s eyes, darting between them, miserable, almost terrified, and then it all became clear. So that’s what was “off” about Holden. I always thought Gene wouldn’t know lust if it bit him on his lean white ass. But I never actually considered what would happen if he, by some miracle, met someone he could like.
Sure. Holden was sweet, smart, deep, way prettier than me. And Gene, beautiful, proud, rich, sexy, well, of course, it all made sense, why did I even think…
Gene stopped with the eyefucking and turned to me:
“Well, do you want to?”
“I want to,” I said breezily. I squeezed Holden’s hand, got up and walked after Gene toward the stairs, flicking Rishi on the forehead on my way past him. “See you later, squirt.”
*-*-*
Once we were on the second floor, out of sight, I grabbed Gene’s shoulder and wheeled him around to have a good yell. I wasn’t quite sure what exactly I could throw in his face, but I was angry as hell, and I was having it all out, fuck the consequences. But before I breathed in enough to start shouting, his lips were on mine, one arm wrapped around my ribs, tight, cutting off the inhale, his fingers started digging under the waistband of my pants, tongue pushed into my mouth, feverishly quick, painfully intent.
“You,” he said, threading fingers through my hair, humping my thigh, scraping my neck with his sharp unforgiving teeth. “You.”
“Gene...” I breathed, melting, shaking. His eyes were so close, bright, sparkly violet instead of usual muted lilac, they always got like this when he was getting going. I groped his pockets for the keys and for the hell of it, too, of course; we unlocked the door in a joint effort and then he propelled me into his office, pushed me against the desk, kissed the breath out of me again, ran his fingernails over my nipples till I whimpered out loud, whispered into my ear:
“Strip. You’re getting fucked, Todd.”
“No way, is Mr Sykes actually going to do all the work?” I gasped, already kicking off my shoes and dropping my pants. I pulled the tank off as well: it was black, and spunk stains would be too obvious. I hopped onto his desk, which was pleasantly cool under my naked ass, got rid of the socks to complete the ensemble and to make sure my feet won’t be slipping. Gene preferred getting nailed against the wall or bent over the chair, but I wanted to watch him do me - it wasn’t every day, and it was hot beyond words.
He went through the desk drawers, threw a tube of lube at me, grabbed another one himself, held up a condom:
“Did you get your test results back?”
“No, not yet. Put it on, best to be sure.”
“You are such a stupid slut, Todd,” he said almost fondly. “One day I’ll tell Kassandra on you. Get that picture.”
Yeah, he sure wasn’t that light-hearted about it when I gave him gonorrhoea that one time. Not like it was that big a deal as he made it sound, they had cure for everything now, it wasn’t like the middle ages when contracting simple syphilis would cost you your nose. I put his framed picture of Kassandra face-down on the desk (Gene was all kinds of confused about her, so I never argued with that), warmed up some lube in my palm, planted one foot on the desk and reached behind my balls, already tingly with anticipation. Gene watched, slowly unbuttoning his jeans, rubbing his swollen cock through the briefs; I could see wetness seeping through the fabric there, and it made my mouth water. He had the prettiest prick, pale, pink, long and curved, and I wanted it right now, in my hands, in my mouth, but Gene wanted to be fucking today, so I decided not to break the mood. I rimmed myself a little with a finger, since he seemed to be enjoying the show, pushed in to the first knuckle, as always freaking a little how tight it was inside, just around a fingertip, hard to believe it would take a cock; scary. Gene shoved his pants and underwear down, so I could see it all – his dick, leaking and glistening, his balls in a nest of blond hairs, thighs, slim and smooth and pale, sharp hipbones. He dabbed some lube on the cockhead and started rolling the condom down, and I began to finger myself mercilessly, pushed in the second finger against the convulsing muscle, trying to loosen up as fast as possible. Gene was never one for preliminaries, even when it was his ass on the line.
“You better be ready,” he said, smoothing gel over the condom, and as always I wanted to bail at the last moment, but instead took my fingers out, wiped them clean with tissues he handed me, smiled, wiggled about, letting him settle against my asshole, clasped my hands behind his neck, gripping tight. And then for a long, long time, endless four of five seconds, there was only red against my shut eyes and blazing, terrifying torture of being broken into, but when it passed and I could breathe again Gene was panting against my neck, gripping my flanks with both hands, and his cock was in me, smoothly sliding in and out, incredible fullness and aching emptiness, and that was good somehow, better than anything.
“Yeah, babe, that’s it,” I breathed, leaning back so his cock would hit precisely where I wanted it. Ahh, yes, magic spot, stars exploding between my ears, balls tightening. “Just like that, give it to me, fuck me stupid, I can take it.”
He growled and went faster, harder, won’t be long, this one, but just as well. My legs were already shaking, and my back would be giving me hell soon, so I let go of him, fell back, caught myself on one arm, gripped my dick that was still rail-hard, started to jerk off, looking at his face. His eyes were closed, he screwed them tighter on every thrust, his mouth was open and quivering, so pretty, so hot, and that was me doing this to him, this was all for me.
“Gene,” I said again, full and happy, so fucking content it hurt. He opened his eyes, slapped my hand away and took my cock in his hot palm, still slick with the lube, and just that – oh, fuck. I held out for another minute, maybe, but it was too good, and too much, so I screamed and let go, shooting all over his shirt, jerking so hard I nearly slipped off the desk. He caught me and sped up, his bony hips hitting my ass with enough force to leave bruises, cock going deep, bearable only because I was still reeling from the happy. He came, and at that his legs gave and we both tumbled on the floor, awkwardly breaking each other’s fall.
Normally he needed to have a cigarette in his mouth as soon as we were done, literally in less than a minute, but this time he rested with me a little, breathing into my chest, and only then set about getting rid of the condom, taking off his stained turtleneck and lighting up. His hair, lank with sweat now, stuck to his neck, and he grunted in frustration, trying to peel it off. I reached for my discarded jeans, found a scrunchie in the pocket and pulled his hair in a small low ponytail, just several inches long. Cute.
“What’s this?” I asked, tugging on it till he snarled and swatted me off. “Are you growing it out? Business on the front, party on the back, eh?”
“Unlike you, I’ve better things to do than obsess over hairdos,” as usual after sex, his insults we falling flat and even seemed kinda endearing. “My stylist is out of the country, that’s all.”
“Aww, I think you’d look great with your hair reeealy long. Down to your waist maybe. This is a colour to be flaunted.”
“One messy mop is enough for us both,” he said, gently pulling on my hair in what for him passed as playfulness. “Okay. Now you can go talk to him.”
For a good minute I was just sitting there on the floor, stark naked, opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish a bowl. Gene got up, took a clean blue button-down shirt out of the closet, got dressed and headed for the door before I finally found my voice and started yelling.
“What? What the fuck was that just now? Marking your territory? And what do you – I don’t need your permission for anything, you jerk! Oh shit, that wasn’t even me at all, was it? I’ve seen the way you - you just got so hot and bothered there, and went for the easiest lay. Right? Or, wait, are you going to – is this… was it…” no, no, it didn’t feel it, couldn’t have been a break-up sex, no way.
“No, moron,” he said wearily, “If you don’t get it, no point wasting my breath trying to explain.”
And he walked out, carefully closed the door behind him, left me there alone, cold and fuming.
I thought about going home right now and getting drunk or high. I thought about not going home for a week or so, maybe crash with an old buddy or go to Kassandra’s till this all becomes clearer in my head. But before I could decide on anything, the emptiness of the soundproofed room became too much, so I pulled my clothes back on and dragged myself downstairs, seriously considering getting drunk right there. Not that I’d put it past Gene to get the bouncers to throw me out if I made a spectacle of myself, but I was pretty certain he would fish me out of a ditch in the morning and take home. Or maybe he wouldn’t, but then Dave would take care of me for sure, he was a real softie like that.
The joint was really jumping, it must have been well past midnight. The dance floor was full, packed tight, most of the guys were dancing topless by now. Air conditioning in the place wasn’t quite up to the task of keeping many horny men crammed in one room pleasantly cool. There were some abandoned tables here and there, so I found the quietest, sat down sideways on the edge of the chair, let myself just soak in the happy carefree frantic atmosphere for a while. What was I so wound up about anyway? I saw Dave, got laid, nearly scored with a really hot stranger – and he seemed to like it here, maybe he’d come again - so all in all, pretty good night.
“Hey, Todd,” said Rishi, pushing through the crowd closer to me, “Where’s Gene?”
“Dunno. Around. Did you meet anybody?”
“Sort of. I just accidentally punched some guy in the bathroom,” he grinned guiltily, shrugged. “Now he’s all screaming for police, bouncers and the manager. I really don’t want Gene to be mad at me, and that guy so started it! He wanted me to go to his place and do something icky with chains. Like, gross!”
“Chains? If it’s the same guy, he already hit on Gene once and got his ass handed to him, so don’t worry. Beating on him is pretty much an official club policy.”
“I’m not really worried, Mr York said he’d calm him down.”
“What? How is he going to do that?” skinny Holden with his long fragile fingers and big gentle eyes, what the hell was he doing getting into such mess all alone? I made to get up, about to run to the bathroom and pummel everybody who tries to take an advantage, but right then Holden emerged from the doors, thoroughly wiping his hands with a big chequered handkerchief, somehow met my eyes across the club straight away, smiled and started in our direction.
“I’m not sure how,” said Rishi thoughtfully. “But he’s pretty scary, not many people would mess with him. Okay, I’m going to go look for Gene. I think maybe he’ll be in a better mood now, after you had sex. You totally did, didn’t you?”
“I don’t fuck and tell,” I said, feeling chivalrous. He pouted and ran off somewhere, and by the time Holden sat down next to me, there were just the two of us again.
“First thing first,” he said. “I would love to see you again. So before anything else distracts us, I would be delighted if you accept my phone number. Or give me yours – oh, this is complicated, isn’t? How do we decide who does what?”
“Let’s do both to be sure,” I said, trying not to glow too much. “You don’t mind the – look, what happened before was - ”
“You don’t have to explain, Todd,” he was slightly different now, a bit more hyper, like he actually was in a fight and was just coming down from the adrenalin rush, or, more likely, like he did some drugs in the bathroom, but he didn’t seem to be out of his head or strange or anything. “I understand that you are probably no longer interested in anything physical for tonight, but I didn’t really expect to get that lucky that fast. This is a first date, after all.”
“Um,” I said, dumbfounded. “Okay. It’s just that Gene – ”
“Ah, yes,” he shrugged cheerfully. “If he’s trying to tell me something, he’ll have to be more direct about it. I’m afraid I’ve seen so many passive-aggressive juvenile outbursts in my line of work that I stopped paying attention.”
He glanced at the dance floor, tapping his fingers on the table in time with the music. The knuckles on his right hand were red, swollen and angry.
“Wanna dance?” I asked, completely out of the blue, and to my surprise he nodded, quickly shrugged off his jacket and gestured for me to lead the way.
Okay, he was right enough, Gene did take the edge off, and I definitely wasn’t going to bottom any time soon, but watching Holden strut his funky stuff was making me think of all kinds of physical things I wanted to do to him, the sooner the better. He was a little stiff at first, but let loose just after several beats and went for it, keeping his eyes on me, completely oblivious to the stares from all sides. Well, he was damn well built, slim like a dancer, and in his teacher’s clothes in the middle of the nightclub he looked pretty much like a hired stripper, so I guess a lot of guys waited for the impromptu show to start. But even that aside, he was one fine catch, and he moved with that easy grace that only comes when you use your body often and hard, and the moves he was busting were unexpectedly cool and damn sexy. I got so sucked into watching him that it took me almost two songs to figure out that he was mirroring my movements all that time. I stumbled, weirded out, and he stopped.
“I can’t really dance, to be honest,” he said, embarrassed all of the sudden. “Sorry.”
“Never mind,” I said. “That’s the last song before the slow set, anyway. Do you want to go back, or shall we – I mean, you just cuddle and shuffle your feet, nothing fancy.”
“Well, if you lead, I’ll certainly try,” he said, waited for the first soulful chords and raised one hand, as if we were going to tango. I snickered, wrapped his pliant arms around my sides, hugged his shoulders. He let me pull him close, but turned his face away, maybe not comfortable with this yet, so I decided not to hold my breath for any dry-humping and started to gently rock us with the music.
“This is nice,” he murmured a couple of minutes later. There was maybe an inch of warm air between our cheeks, and his ear was just next to my lips, wouldn’t take much to give it a little nip, see if he’s sensitive there.
Oh wow. His ear was pierced in three places: twice in the lobe, another one in the cartilage. I whistled and cautiously ran the tip of my tongue over the empty holes. Holden giggled, wriggled away, and then his both hands smoothly slipped into the back pockets of my jeans and cupped my ass, so casually and nonchalantly it took my breath away for a moment.
I ducked my head back, looked into his eyes – he seemed so relaxed, so calm and open - kissed him full on the lips, slowly and thoroughly. His fingers tightened on me, and a second later he opened his mouth and let me in.
When I opened my eyes again, I realised we’ve been standing stock-still in the middle of the dance floor for quite some time now, my fingers in his hair, his hands kneading my ass through the jeans, puling me closer and closer, his tongue hot and slick in my mouth. There was just a hint of tobacco on his breath, his face was still pretty smooth and stubble-free under my lips, he probably shaved before heading out, he was making those tiny sounds, not even moans, every time I kissed him harder or rocked into him a little bit more. Most of the other couples politely turned their backs on us. Sure, not everyone kissed, but everybody thought it was sweet, if that’s what you went for.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” I asked, not pulling too far away.
“That might be fun,” he said, swallowing hard. “Preferably somewhere private, where I can get you naked. Only – I don’t have much relevant experience. I’m afraid I’ll disappoint.”
“Let me worry about that, okay? Right, I need to tell Gene he doesn’t have a ride for today…”
“Yes, yes, I need to warn Rishi and make sure he has a cab fare. Do you think Eugene would agree to keep an eye on him, make sure he’s safe?” he grabbed my hand and dragged me off the dance floor, shaking a little with sudden excitement or maybe nerves.
“Um, I think yeah, safe bet,” I said, pointing a finger at Gene’s table. He was sprawled in the chair, clouded in smoke, and Rishi was bouncing in his seat next to him, telling some story, waving his arms around, laughing at his own jokes. Gene actually talked back from time to time, raising one eyebrow, asked questions, maybe. Freaky. Me and Holden exchanged a look and headed out without making a fuss.
Next chapter
Title: The Wheel
Author: Newkate
Fandom: Saiyuki
Rating: this part overall is NC-17 for m/m smut, spandex and 5's POV being the dirtiest POV ever.
Notes and warnings: Reincarnation fic. Multiple pairings. Completed, in four parts.
Betaed by
hibem.Part One: Shift
Part Two: Dance (Ch. 3-4)
Ch. 1, Ch. 2
They had somehow scored a table near the fire exit. Holden already had a bottle and a shot glass in front of him, and the kid was sulking into a rainbow-coloured fruity cocktail mostly buried under orange peel ribbons, gaudy paper umbrellas and labyrinth-like twisted straws.
“Hey,” I said. “I want to apologise for Gene being, y’know, himself. It’s not you, guys, he’s always like that.”
Holden brightened up a little, pulled back a chair, motioned for me to join them. Rishi glared at me threateningly from under his gelled bangs; I stuck out my tongue at him while Holden wasn’t looking and sat down.
“So…” I cleared my throat, nervous for no reason, but Holden was grinning at me with genuine interest, and that was encouraging. “You obviously don’t come here often, heh… Um, are you guys together?”
That wasn’t the best thing to ask at this stage, but it needed to be gotten out of the way. Wouldn’t stop me if they were, but I’d have to change my tactics a little.
“No, you gross pervert,” said Rishi. “Mr York is my history teacher! That’s like incest, and also unethical, right, Mr York?”
“Exactly,” nodded Holden, “Technically a former teacher, but nevertheless. May I direct the same question at you, Todd?”
“Uh?” the sound of his voice caressing my name was way too distracting.
“What about you and Eugene?”
Hah, me and Eugene. That was a topic that could keep the conversation going for a while. But I knew what he was asking about.
“We’re not exclusive,” I said. It was a tried and tested answer, perfect for all occasions. People seemed to take it any way they wanted to, from “I’m looking for a quickie, no strings attached” to “I’m so unhappy, pet me”, and I didn’t care what they thought as long as I was getting laid.
“What’s that mean?” gloomily asked Rishi. Trust the immature idiot to go and ruin all my subtlety. Instead of being a good former teacher and explaining it to the kid while also giving me some vital clues, Holden just turned to me, all ears and eyes and sexy sweet lips – and hell, I was not prepared to deal with that.
“Look it up, zit-face,” I said in a dignified manner. “And seriously, I’d try to score elsewhere if I were you, unless death threats and frostbites are a turn-on. Want me to set you up with someone fun?”
“No,” he sighed and sadly sucked on the straw. “I don’t want anybody else.”
“Rishi,” Holden put a comforting hand on his wrist, and I lost all sympathy I might have had for that brat. He was getting more than enough sympathy already. “We came here so you could meet people, and you should. You can’t let one bad experience ruin your whole night. You didn’t think this would be any easier than dating girls, did you?”
The kid shook his head, reached to rub at his eyes and would have smudged the eyeliner all over if Holden didn’t stop him in time. I started to suspect it was Mr York himself who glammed up his dear pupil like this.
“I just don’t feel like it anymore,” said Rishi. “I don’t think I want to be dating yet.”
“That’s fair, there is no need to rush,” quickly agreed Holden. “But here you have an opportunity to make friends with boys your own age who know exactly what are you going through. I think you should do that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess…”
“Maybe some dancing will put you in a better mood?” innocently suggested Holden. “Everybody seems to be having a lot of fun, look – oh, dear, bad example.”
“Um,” said Rishi, eyes glued to the couple on the edge of the dance floor. Nothing really exciting was going down yet, this guy was just hugging his buddy from behind, grinding against the man’s ass and tongue-fucking his ear, perfectly matching the beat. “Okay, I think I’ll go dance some. Will you be all right here by yourself, Mr York?”
“He’s not by himself, stupid,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, that’s what’s worrying me,” said Rishi, narrowing his eyes. “You better not…”
“Rishi, be nice,” said Holden with a hint of steel ringing in his voice. Rishi scowled at me, noisily slurped some more fruit juice and finally left the table.
We grinned at each other. Holden’s cheeks had a bit of a pinkish glow, but I couldn’t tell if that was me or the vodka – the bottle was almost third-empty when I arrived. He refilled his shot glass and held it out to me:
“Do you mind sharing?”
“I’m driving,” I said, feeling like the biggest dork on the planet. “But I wouldn’t mind, if I wasn’t. And thank you anyways. So, first night out, so to speak, right?”
“Yes, yes,” he turned to the dance floor, glanced at Rishi affectionately, gave him a wave. The boy was already getting into it, swinging his arms and shaking that booty like he meant it. He was going to fit right in. “Rishi confided in me last year - about being attracted to men, that is. I promised that once he had graduated and was of age, I would help him explore his sexuality in a safe, friendly environment. This place was surprisingly easy to find. Frankly – ah, don’t laugh, but I expected secrecy, initiation rites, special handshakes…”
“Yeah, times change, thankfully, we’re here and they are getting used to it,” I said, tracing the lines of his face with my eyes. He was perfect; it was freaky how perfect he was. “But I actually meant you. Judging by your getup, you’re not really into clubbing, are you?”
“As your friend Eugene would say, I’m not here to have a good time,” he said lightly, not self-conscious at all. “At least I didn’t expect to be until I saw you. I’m here strictly in a chaperone’s capacity.”
Did you just - blatantly hit on me, you sneaky fiend, I wanted to ask, but forced myself to play it cool and laughed instead:
“Chaperone? This is not a frigging debutant ball, Holden! Getting laid is sort of the point of the exercise, you know.”
“Well, yes, but I wanted to make sure he is getting laid by someone suitable.”
“So if you came here to…”
“Mm?” he tilted his head back and poured that shot of vodka right down his throat, still keeping eyes on me. His neck was long, slim; I could see every tendon stretching in sharp relief under smooth thin skin.
“Holden, are you gay?” I asked, directly and upfront, because damn, if you couldn’t be sure that the guys you meet in a gay club swing your way, then there really were no absolutes, like Gene always said.
“Are you asking about my prior experiences or where I’d place myself on a Kinsey scale?” he asked back, ruthlessly toying with me. Maybe Gene was right about him and he really was diabolically evil or something.
“I’m asking if I’m barking up the wrong tree here.”
“No,” he said simply, studying his hands. He had scarily long fingers; my breath quickened at the thought of what he could do for me with those if I only played my cards right. “You are not.”
“Okay. Ooookaay!” I giggled, giddy and anxious. He looked almost shy, too cute for words. “Okay, Holden, gimme a sec to catch my breath, and I will dazzle the hell outta you with my wit and charm, promise. But first - ”
I reached over and pulled his glasses off. They weren’t strong, maybe even weaker than Gene’s reading specs. He let me do it, blinked for a couple of seconds, and then let his eyes focus on me.
“Green,” I said, completely bowled over. “Nice.”
“And your eyes are the colour of black cherries,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Beautiful. But I wish you’d pull your hair back. I don’t understand why you hide such a face.”
Black – frigging - cherries? Oh, definitely gay! I thought about making a trip to the men’s and attempting a ponytail without a comb – well, Gene had styling products upstairs, of course, only I couldn’t come up with a good explanation for why I needed his keys right now. But then I decided that would look like I was trying too hard. With a guy like Holden you had to be suave and macho, not to rush things, loosen him up slowly. He had to be courted.
“Do you…” I started, and he cut me off, probably more used to picking up chicks, carrying the conversation.
“Tell me about yourself, Todd. What do you do for a living? If that’s not a – if you do – is it all right for me to ask? I’m not sure what the proper etiquette is, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah. I’m…”
I couldn’t tell him the truth, no way could I tell him the truth, but I couldn’t think of a good lie quick enough. The music was too distracting – Village People again, fucking too-catchy beat, and not like I had anything against YMCA as such, hell, most of my income was coming from the boys of the Y, but this song, and its chirpy chorus – and every single asshole in the place was singing along, of course - made it impossible to think of anything more that spelling letters with your arms.
“I work in construction. You know. Hard helmet, boots, white tank, that kind of thing,” I said.
“Ah.”
“Yeah. We carry heavy things, and weld stuff, and then we get all, uh, sweaty and oily, and, and take a shower and go home. Huh, not as exciting as I wanted it to sound.”
He laughed – a little breathlessly, in this carefully quiet way like people probably laugh in museums and libraries, amused as all hell by the relevance of the second duck from the left on a portrait of Mary Magdalene or the hilarious holes in the theory of relativity or something. Oh, I just had to get him, I had to. He was a once in a lifetime adventure – I knew I couldn’t keep a guy like that, of course, but I had to taste him at least, to know what he’s like.
I saw Gene crossing the dance floor, easily as usual, saw Rishi stop mid-shimmy, turn away from a group of buff boys he’s been making eyes at, follow Gene like in a trance, like that rat after the flute. Gene ignored him, nodded to Holden, walked up to me, barked out an order:
“Upstairs. Now.”
“What? Hello, I’m in the middle of something here, you dickwad, I’m not just going to…”
“You are trying to score,” said Gene, eyes cold, half-lidded. “That’s what I’m offering. Come on, I don’t have all night.”
I didn’t know what to say to that because I didn’t have any words to describe the depth of my outrage and also I was stunned into silence by the fact that my dick, apparently, loved Gene’s idea.
Well, really, massive jerk or not, Gene was Gene, and I’ve never once said no to him before, never even thought I could. Wasn’t just because it’d take some inhuman willpower to say no to Gene in all his golden furious glory, especially after you’ve tapped that ass and knew how good he could be. But also, for all the grief and trouble, he always was my – something – mine. And that was enough, more than enough, in fact. When nothing else seemed worth it, just the thought of his solid infuriating presence alone could keep me going, because if scum like me had Gene, it wasn’t all that bad. Who knew it would only take a pair of pretty green eyes for me to forget all that. Oh well, what else was new: Todd’s a slut, Todd’s an attention whore, Todd’s an ungrateful little cocksucker, yeah, and I guessed I probably should remember that saying about pie in the sky, leave Holden alone and go upstairs to apologize to Gene as best I could.
Holden’s hand covered mine, not the way he touched Rishi before – his fingers slipped over mine, pressed into my palm, stroked a little. Fuck. Fuck.
“Don’t mind me, if that’s what it is. I’m here till closing; we can carry on with this conversation later, if you like,” he said.
“Conversation?” huffed Gene. “Enjoying a stimulating intellectual exchange, were you?”
“Just chatting,” said Holden politely, “Getting to know each other.”
They were looking at each other, drawing the pause out, and the longer it went the edgier it was making me. Something was happening, and I couldn’t put my finger on it till I saw Rishi’s eyes, darting between them, miserable, almost terrified, and then it all became clear. So that’s what was “off” about Holden. I always thought Gene wouldn’t know lust if it bit him on his lean white ass. But I never actually considered what would happen if he, by some miracle, met someone he could like.
Sure. Holden was sweet, smart, deep, way prettier than me. And Gene, beautiful, proud, rich, sexy, well, of course, it all made sense, why did I even think…
Gene stopped with the eyefucking and turned to me:
“Well, do you want to?”
“I want to,” I said breezily. I squeezed Holden’s hand, got up and walked after Gene toward the stairs, flicking Rishi on the forehead on my way past him. “See you later, squirt.”
*-*-*
Once we were on the second floor, out of sight, I grabbed Gene’s shoulder and wheeled him around to have a good yell. I wasn’t quite sure what exactly I could throw in his face, but I was angry as hell, and I was having it all out, fuck the consequences. But before I breathed in enough to start shouting, his lips were on mine, one arm wrapped around my ribs, tight, cutting off the inhale, his fingers started digging under the waistband of my pants, tongue pushed into my mouth, feverishly quick, painfully intent.
“You,” he said, threading fingers through my hair, humping my thigh, scraping my neck with his sharp unforgiving teeth. “You.”
“Gene...” I breathed, melting, shaking. His eyes were so close, bright, sparkly violet instead of usual muted lilac, they always got like this when he was getting going. I groped his pockets for the keys and for the hell of it, too, of course; we unlocked the door in a joint effort and then he propelled me into his office, pushed me against the desk, kissed the breath out of me again, ran his fingernails over my nipples till I whimpered out loud, whispered into my ear:
“Strip. You’re getting fucked, Todd.”
“No way, is Mr Sykes actually going to do all the work?” I gasped, already kicking off my shoes and dropping my pants. I pulled the tank off as well: it was black, and spunk stains would be too obvious. I hopped onto his desk, which was pleasantly cool under my naked ass, got rid of the socks to complete the ensemble and to make sure my feet won’t be slipping. Gene preferred getting nailed against the wall or bent over the chair, but I wanted to watch him do me - it wasn’t every day, and it was hot beyond words.
He went through the desk drawers, threw a tube of lube at me, grabbed another one himself, held up a condom:
“Did you get your test results back?”
“No, not yet. Put it on, best to be sure.”
“You are such a stupid slut, Todd,” he said almost fondly. “One day I’ll tell Kassandra on you. Get that picture.”
Yeah, he sure wasn’t that light-hearted about it when I gave him gonorrhoea that one time. Not like it was that big a deal as he made it sound, they had cure for everything now, it wasn’t like the middle ages when contracting simple syphilis would cost you your nose. I put his framed picture of Kassandra face-down on the desk (Gene was all kinds of confused about her, so I never argued with that), warmed up some lube in my palm, planted one foot on the desk and reached behind my balls, already tingly with anticipation. Gene watched, slowly unbuttoning his jeans, rubbing his swollen cock through the briefs; I could see wetness seeping through the fabric there, and it made my mouth water. He had the prettiest prick, pale, pink, long and curved, and I wanted it right now, in my hands, in my mouth, but Gene wanted to be fucking today, so I decided not to break the mood. I rimmed myself a little with a finger, since he seemed to be enjoying the show, pushed in to the first knuckle, as always freaking a little how tight it was inside, just around a fingertip, hard to believe it would take a cock; scary. Gene shoved his pants and underwear down, so I could see it all – his dick, leaking and glistening, his balls in a nest of blond hairs, thighs, slim and smooth and pale, sharp hipbones. He dabbed some lube on the cockhead and started rolling the condom down, and I began to finger myself mercilessly, pushed in the second finger against the convulsing muscle, trying to loosen up as fast as possible. Gene was never one for preliminaries, even when it was his ass on the line.
“You better be ready,” he said, smoothing gel over the condom, and as always I wanted to bail at the last moment, but instead took my fingers out, wiped them clean with tissues he handed me, smiled, wiggled about, letting him settle against my asshole, clasped my hands behind his neck, gripping tight. And then for a long, long time, endless four of five seconds, there was only red against my shut eyes and blazing, terrifying torture of being broken into, but when it passed and I could breathe again Gene was panting against my neck, gripping my flanks with both hands, and his cock was in me, smoothly sliding in and out, incredible fullness and aching emptiness, and that was good somehow, better than anything.
“Yeah, babe, that’s it,” I breathed, leaning back so his cock would hit precisely where I wanted it. Ahh, yes, magic spot, stars exploding between my ears, balls tightening. “Just like that, give it to me, fuck me stupid, I can take it.”
He growled and went faster, harder, won’t be long, this one, but just as well. My legs were already shaking, and my back would be giving me hell soon, so I let go of him, fell back, caught myself on one arm, gripped my dick that was still rail-hard, started to jerk off, looking at his face. His eyes were closed, he screwed them tighter on every thrust, his mouth was open and quivering, so pretty, so hot, and that was me doing this to him, this was all for me.
“Gene,” I said again, full and happy, so fucking content it hurt. He opened his eyes, slapped my hand away and took my cock in his hot palm, still slick with the lube, and just that – oh, fuck. I held out for another minute, maybe, but it was too good, and too much, so I screamed and let go, shooting all over his shirt, jerking so hard I nearly slipped off the desk. He caught me and sped up, his bony hips hitting my ass with enough force to leave bruises, cock going deep, bearable only because I was still reeling from the happy. He came, and at that his legs gave and we both tumbled on the floor, awkwardly breaking each other’s fall.
Normally he needed to have a cigarette in his mouth as soon as we were done, literally in less than a minute, but this time he rested with me a little, breathing into my chest, and only then set about getting rid of the condom, taking off his stained turtleneck and lighting up. His hair, lank with sweat now, stuck to his neck, and he grunted in frustration, trying to peel it off. I reached for my discarded jeans, found a scrunchie in the pocket and pulled his hair in a small low ponytail, just several inches long. Cute.
“What’s this?” I asked, tugging on it till he snarled and swatted me off. “Are you growing it out? Business on the front, party on the back, eh?”
“Unlike you, I’ve better things to do than obsess over hairdos,” as usual after sex, his insults we falling flat and even seemed kinda endearing. “My stylist is out of the country, that’s all.”
“Aww, I think you’d look great with your hair reeealy long. Down to your waist maybe. This is a colour to be flaunted.”
“One messy mop is enough for us both,” he said, gently pulling on my hair in what for him passed as playfulness. “Okay. Now you can go talk to him.”
For a good minute I was just sitting there on the floor, stark naked, opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish a bowl. Gene got up, took a clean blue button-down shirt out of the closet, got dressed and headed for the door before I finally found my voice and started yelling.
“What? What the fuck was that just now? Marking your territory? And what do you – I don’t need your permission for anything, you jerk! Oh shit, that wasn’t even me at all, was it? I’ve seen the way you - you just got so hot and bothered there, and went for the easiest lay. Right? Or, wait, are you going to – is this… was it…” no, no, it didn’t feel it, couldn’t have been a break-up sex, no way.
“No, moron,” he said wearily, “If you don’t get it, no point wasting my breath trying to explain.”
And he walked out, carefully closed the door behind him, left me there alone, cold and fuming.
I thought about going home right now and getting drunk or high. I thought about not going home for a week or so, maybe crash with an old buddy or go to Kassandra’s till this all becomes clearer in my head. But before I could decide on anything, the emptiness of the soundproofed room became too much, so I pulled my clothes back on and dragged myself downstairs, seriously considering getting drunk right there. Not that I’d put it past Gene to get the bouncers to throw me out if I made a spectacle of myself, but I was pretty certain he would fish me out of a ditch in the morning and take home. Or maybe he wouldn’t, but then Dave would take care of me for sure, he was a real softie like that.
The joint was really jumping, it must have been well past midnight. The dance floor was full, packed tight, most of the guys were dancing topless by now. Air conditioning in the place wasn’t quite up to the task of keeping many horny men crammed in one room pleasantly cool. There were some abandoned tables here and there, so I found the quietest, sat down sideways on the edge of the chair, let myself just soak in the happy carefree frantic atmosphere for a while. What was I so wound up about anyway? I saw Dave, got laid, nearly scored with a really hot stranger – and he seemed to like it here, maybe he’d come again - so all in all, pretty good night.
“Hey, Todd,” said Rishi, pushing through the crowd closer to me, “Where’s Gene?”
“Dunno. Around. Did you meet anybody?”
“Sort of. I just accidentally punched some guy in the bathroom,” he grinned guiltily, shrugged. “Now he’s all screaming for police, bouncers and the manager. I really don’t want Gene to be mad at me, and that guy so started it! He wanted me to go to his place and do something icky with chains. Like, gross!”
“Chains? If it’s the same guy, he already hit on Gene once and got his ass handed to him, so don’t worry. Beating on him is pretty much an official club policy.”
“I’m not really worried, Mr York said he’d calm him down.”
“What? How is he going to do that?” skinny Holden with his long fragile fingers and big gentle eyes, what the hell was he doing getting into such mess all alone? I made to get up, about to run to the bathroom and pummel everybody who tries to take an advantage, but right then Holden emerged from the doors, thoroughly wiping his hands with a big chequered handkerchief, somehow met my eyes across the club straight away, smiled and started in our direction.
“I’m not sure how,” said Rishi thoughtfully. “But he’s pretty scary, not many people would mess with him. Okay, I’m going to go look for Gene. I think maybe he’ll be in a better mood now, after you had sex. You totally did, didn’t you?”
“I don’t fuck and tell,” I said, feeling chivalrous. He pouted and ran off somewhere, and by the time Holden sat down next to me, there were just the two of us again.
“First thing first,” he said. “I would love to see you again. So before anything else distracts us, I would be delighted if you accept my phone number. Or give me yours – oh, this is complicated, isn’t? How do we decide who does what?”
“Let’s do both to be sure,” I said, trying not to glow too much. “You don’t mind the – look, what happened before was - ”
“You don’t have to explain, Todd,” he was slightly different now, a bit more hyper, like he actually was in a fight and was just coming down from the adrenalin rush, or, more likely, like he did some drugs in the bathroom, but he didn’t seem to be out of his head or strange or anything. “I understand that you are probably no longer interested in anything physical for tonight, but I didn’t really expect to get that lucky that fast. This is a first date, after all.”
“Um,” I said, dumbfounded. “Okay. It’s just that Gene – ”
“Ah, yes,” he shrugged cheerfully. “If he’s trying to tell me something, he’ll have to be more direct about it. I’m afraid I’ve seen so many passive-aggressive juvenile outbursts in my line of work that I stopped paying attention.”
He glanced at the dance floor, tapping his fingers on the table in time with the music. The knuckles on his right hand were red, swollen and angry.
“Wanna dance?” I asked, completely out of the blue, and to my surprise he nodded, quickly shrugged off his jacket and gestured for me to lead the way.
Okay, he was right enough, Gene did take the edge off, and I definitely wasn’t going to bottom any time soon, but watching Holden strut his funky stuff was making me think of all kinds of physical things I wanted to do to him, the sooner the better. He was a little stiff at first, but let loose just after several beats and went for it, keeping his eyes on me, completely oblivious to the stares from all sides. Well, he was damn well built, slim like a dancer, and in his teacher’s clothes in the middle of the nightclub he looked pretty much like a hired stripper, so I guess a lot of guys waited for the impromptu show to start. But even that aside, he was one fine catch, and he moved with that easy grace that only comes when you use your body often and hard, and the moves he was busting were unexpectedly cool and damn sexy. I got so sucked into watching him that it took me almost two songs to figure out that he was mirroring my movements all that time. I stumbled, weirded out, and he stopped.
“I can’t really dance, to be honest,” he said, embarrassed all of the sudden. “Sorry.”
“Never mind,” I said. “That’s the last song before the slow set, anyway. Do you want to go back, or shall we – I mean, you just cuddle and shuffle your feet, nothing fancy.”
“Well, if you lead, I’ll certainly try,” he said, waited for the first soulful chords and raised one hand, as if we were going to tango. I snickered, wrapped his pliant arms around my sides, hugged his shoulders. He let me pull him close, but turned his face away, maybe not comfortable with this yet, so I decided not to hold my breath for any dry-humping and started to gently rock us with the music.
“This is nice,” he murmured a couple of minutes later. There was maybe an inch of warm air between our cheeks, and his ear was just next to my lips, wouldn’t take much to give it a little nip, see if he’s sensitive there.
Oh wow. His ear was pierced in three places: twice in the lobe, another one in the cartilage. I whistled and cautiously ran the tip of my tongue over the empty holes. Holden giggled, wriggled away, and then his both hands smoothly slipped into the back pockets of my jeans and cupped my ass, so casually and nonchalantly it took my breath away for a moment.
I ducked my head back, looked into his eyes – he seemed so relaxed, so calm and open - kissed him full on the lips, slowly and thoroughly. His fingers tightened on me, and a second later he opened his mouth and let me in.
When I opened my eyes again, I realised we’ve been standing stock-still in the middle of the dance floor for quite some time now, my fingers in his hair, his hands kneading my ass through the jeans, puling me closer and closer, his tongue hot and slick in my mouth. There was just a hint of tobacco on his breath, his face was still pretty smooth and stubble-free under my lips, he probably shaved before heading out, he was making those tiny sounds, not even moans, every time I kissed him harder or rocked into him a little bit more. Most of the other couples politely turned their backs on us. Sure, not everyone kissed, but everybody thought it was sweet, if that’s what you went for.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” I asked, not pulling too far away.
“That might be fun,” he said, swallowing hard. “Preferably somewhere private, where I can get you naked. Only – I don’t have much relevant experience. I’m afraid I’ll disappoint.”
“Let me worry about that, okay? Right, I need to tell Gene he doesn’t have a ride for today…”
“Yes, yes, I need to warn Rishi and make sure he has a cab fare. Do you think Eugene would agree to keep an eye on him, make sure he’s safe?” he grabbed my hand and dragged me off the dance floor, shaking a little with sudden excitement or maybe nerves.
“Um, I think yeah, safe bet,” I said, pointing a finger at Gene’s table. He was sprawled in the chair, clouded in smoke, and Rishi was bouncing in his seat next to him, telling some story, waving his arms around, laughing at his own jokes. Gene actually talked back from time to time, raising one eyebrow, asked questions, maybe. Freaky. Me and Holden exchanged a look and headed out without making a fuss.
Next chapter
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-08-18 05:17 pm (UTC)(Also: Rishi is the cutest thing ever. Well, except maybe for canon baby-Goku.)
no subject
Date: 2005-08-19 09:02 am (UTC)More porn is on the way ^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-08-19 09:30 pm (UTC)I will adore you forever on the strength of this line and am further taking it as as good a reason as any to friend you, just so you know.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-20 03:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-22 04:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-24 10:07 pm (UTC)...Chains? Chains? Oh my gods.
*so unhelpful*
no subject
Date: 2005-08-25 12:34 pm (UTC)*glomps* thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 03:05 pm (UTC)Anyway, thanks for the lovely fic, it's awesome, I love it, and I keep coming back to reread it and it's this stuck in my head ^_^