Archive of Our Own

The lighter needed a few attempts until it clicked and its pathetic tiny spark finally turned into a flame. Ichiban took a deep drag on his cigarette watching as the tip began to glow. He stood in a flock of people in the designated smoking area at the back of the bar. The crowd surrounding him was smoking and chatting, some of them with a glass in their hand that they’d sip from infrequently between drags. Ichiban missed being able to smoke outside, unbothered and by himself at the side of the road, where he could escape the noise of whatever establishment he’d found himself in and get some fresh air. Yet smoking here was better than not being allowed to smoke at all.

“Only smoker in the group?” The voice startled him, right in his ear to be able to be heard over the music. He turned around. Ichiban had noticed the man sitting at another table earlier, their eyes had met a couple of times, but Ichiban had mostly ascribed it to happenstance. To Ichiban's credit, the guy was hard to overlook. He had a certain air about him that made the crowd part around him. That had his companions at his table try and court for his attention. He carried himself like someone who was well aware of his effect on other people. People seemed to flock to the guy’s booth, mostly get ignored, sometimes gain a cocked head and a sly, yet bored smile by the man, yet never any actual interest. Ichiban had caught himself watching him more than once over the evening, yet had tried to force his eyes away before it could become too obvious to either his object of interest or his friends. Maybe he had been a bit too conspicuous after all and now the guy was ready to tell him to cut that shit out. 

“Nah, but one of my friends pretends to be stopping. Again.” Ichiban answered, wondering if Saeko would get through the evening without bumming a cigarette off him, always swearing it would be her last one. 

The man laughed quietly, teeth flashing. Ichiban watched him as he put a cigarette between his lips to light it with a fancy looking engraved Zippo. He used the moment to get a better look at him. Tight fitting black jeans. Leather Chelsea boots. A dark, expensive looking dress shirt with a golden pattern. A ring on every one of his elegant fingers. He looked a bit too extravagant for a cruddy place like this. 

Ichiban felt caught as his gaze returned to the other man’s face. There was a somewhat complacent smile on his lips. Without a word the man gave him an obvious, shameless once-over in return. The kind that made him feel naked and at the same time wishing he had dressed better. Ichiban felt his ears burning up. Instinctively, he looked away, pretended something on the far side of the bar had captured his interest. He didn’t dare to look over again, just quickly finished his smoke and then fled the area, giving the stranger a curt nod and a tight smile, before heading back to the booth where Adachi, Saeko and Nanba were waiting. 

The bar had been a tip from a friend of a friend, Saeko had claimed. A crowded place close to Restaurant Street, Liumang turf. They had come here under the pretense of gathering intel, when all they really did was have drinks and a much needed night out away from the small room up in the Shichifuku or Survive bar.

He noticed the man from earlier had also returned to his booth, where he was sitting with his own group of people. When he noticed Ichiban's gaze on him, he nodded and raised his glass at him with a sly smile in a silent toast. Ichiban smiled back at him, hoping the dim lighting would conceal the fact that he could feel that his face had to be burning bright red.

“Made a new friend?” Saeko’s thinly veiled curiosity had him flinch.

“Just a new smoking pal.”

She nudged him with her elbow harder than was probably needed. “He’s still looking over though, you must have left a pretty good impression.”

The sudden appearance of Sumire-chan at their table brought a welcome disruption to the conversation. When she left them alone about half an hour later all of them were unsure if she had intended to leave with Saeko, Ichiban or both of them at once.

Ichiban was waiting at the bar, trying to get the barkeeps’ attention to order the next round of drinks for the gang, when someone entered his personal space, too close for it to just be coincidental. The guy from the smoking area. This time he was close enough that Ichiban could smell an expensive aftershave on him. He fought the urge to lean in closer.

“What’s your poison?” The man leaned in, lips close to Ichiban’s ear in order to make himself heard over the noise. 

“Whiskey, usually but -” Ichiban swallowed thickly. “- I’m just getting a round of beer for my friends and me.”

“Aw. Too bad.” The guy faked a pout.

“That you asking to buy me a drink?” Ichiban probably wouldn't have asked as directly as he did, if he hadn't had more than one drink already. Not enough to be anywhere near drunk just yet, just enough to feel a little looser and more relaxed. 

“Would you mind if I did?”

Ichiban’s eyes dropped from the man’s quizzically arched eyebrows down to his eyes, then down to his lips, that seemed to be shaped in a perpetual small, knowing smile and finally to the golden pendant resting around his neck deep in the open collar of his flashy shirt. He tried to remember the last time someone had offered to buy him a drink. He forced himself to look up into his eyes again.

“I wouldn’t.” 

“Good.” The guy received his order before Ichiban even had a chance to get the attention of  the barkeep and just briefly touched the small of his back with his free hand before returning to his table.

Ichiban returned to their booth where Adachi, Saeko and Nanba were discussing Saeko's line of work in her bar and if she couldn't get them a discount of some sort if they ever visited her establishment. It turned out to be a fruitless discussion, which to Ichiban had been pretty obvious from the start. Saeko would most definitely kick them out of her bar immediately, and rightfully so. Ichiban couldn't really see the appeal anyway. Growing up in and around the Soapland had rid him of any sort of illusion of businesses like that. The appeal of paying someone to spend time with you as they pretended to like you, while being coaxed into spending money you didn't have on drinks you couldn't afford wasn't appealing to him in the least. The only times he had set foot into those types of clubs and bars as a customer had been with the young master and on those days he might as well have been invisible. He took a large swig from his beer, throwing another glance to the booth to which the guy had returned, found him looking over as well. This time Ichiban slightly raised his glass which earned him a wink in return. It wouldn’t be the last time their eyes met over the course of the evening, an almost gravitational pull drawing him towards the stranger. 

Nanba had long dozed off, despite the noise level, head on the table, and Adachi too was looking worse for wear, yawning heartily. Saeko announced that it was probably best to call it a day, shaking Nanba awake. Ichiban glanced at his phone. Almost 3 in the morning. He hadn't even noticed how late it had become. His eyes wandered over to the other table. 

"Ah, you guys go ahead without me. I think I'll stay just a little bit longer." Ichiban forced his eyes away from the man who had evidently been left behind by his peers and who was now leaning back into his bench, directly staring at Ichiban.

“What, why?” Nanba mumbled, staring at him blearily. 

“You really can be pretty dense sometimes.” Adachi snorted. “Good luck, Kasuga. You’ll need it.” He grabbed Nanba’s arm and pulled him along with him towards the exit, cheerfully ignoring the confused protest of the other man.

“Have fun.” Saeko giggled, following the other two. 

The moment he was alone, his eyes darted back to the other seats. It was empty. Shit. He had missed his window. Just when he was ready to get up to leave, a by now familiar figure sat down in front of him.

“Whiskey, right?”

Habitually and suddenly nervous, Ichiban wet his lips with his tongue. 

"Yeah." He cleared his throat, watched as the guy got comfortable and signed something to the barkeep. Moments later the man had brought them two glasses, a whole bottle of whiskey and an ashtray over, placed them on the table, wordlessly retreating with a subtle yet reverent bow towards the guy, who acknowledged him with a courteous smile.

"Cheers." 

Their glasses met with a clink, the ice cubes sloshing around in the golden liquid. Ichiban took a sip. It wasn't the cheap stuff he usually ordered. Not that he actually knew what top shelf whiskey tasted like.

"What was that about? You own the place or something?'

"What if I do?" The guy smiled secretively, not giving anything away. 

Ichiban had hoped that the man would come over. Now that he was sitting right across from him, drinking, he had no idea what to do and how to get a conversation going. He downed the rest of his drink too fast. It burned all the way down into his belly and the other man considered him with an amused snicker.

He got a pack of cigarettes out, a Chinese brand that Ichiban didn’t recognize. As the man tucked a cigarette between his own lips, Ichiban held his lighter to the tip of his cigarette, lighting it without thinking, too quickly and too eagerly, he scolded himself silently. The motion was still hardwired into his brain, a muscle memory that should have long been forgotten. He only realized he’d done it when the flame came alive, illuminating the other man’s face. The guy didn't seem uncomfortable with it, just raised an eyebrow slightly but did lean in as if he was used to it. He didn't return the gesture when Ichiban lit one up for himself. 

Ichiban watched the man's middle finger rap against his whiskey glass. Forcefully dragged his eyes away, when he was spoken to again.

"I'm Tianyou."

"Ichiban."

Tianyou smiled, seemed amused like he just heard some inside joke.“Ichiban. Sure, why not.” Tianyou sounded like he was tasting his name on his tongue, sending a pleasant shiver down Ichiban's spine. “You wanna get out of here, Ichiban?”

“Where to?” A couple of other bars came to mind, but most would surely be closing their doors by now.

“Shine Hotel. It’s not far. Cheap, clean, no bedbugs.”

Ichiban recognised the name, had passed by the Love Hotel on his way here.

“Pretty straightforward.” He almost wanted to laugh and tell the guy to at least buy him a drink first, but then realized that he’d done just that. He emptied his glass. Again. Nothing but melted water from the ice cubes and just some ghost of the whiskey left. Taking his time, Tianyou poured him another one. 

“Why would I wanna waste my time here, if I could have you to myself without any eyes on us instead?” He poured himself another glass as well, taking a sip. “So, what’s it gonna be? You wanna go?”

“Okay.” Ichiban blurted out before he could actually think it over. 

The streets weren't exactly empty yet. There were people milling about who were hurrying home from late shifts or leaving bars or heading toward the red light district. From the corner of his eye Ichiban spotted some gangster types, maybe lower Liumang, who appeared to be out looking for trouble, but they didn’t approach them to bother them, thankfully. One of them seemed to consider it for a moment until another said something to him that had him freeze up and quickly turn the other direction.

Tianyou didn't seem to be fazed by it, didn't even seem to notice the group passing them by.

"You a regular there, then? At the bar?" Ichiban asked, mostly to fill the silence and overplay the nervousness that was slowly starting to have his stomach in knots. The nicotine had not helped much. It had just made him fidgety, but at least the smoking had given him something to do, kept his mouth and hands busy. But he could hardly do that while they were walking. Damn anti-smoking laws. Tianyou's eyes flicked over towards him again.

"What makes you think that?"

"The way you waved the barkeep over. Being allowed to smoke outside of the smoking area."

"Didn't I tell you that I own the place?" Tianyou winked at him with a smirk.

Ichiban tried to make conversation throughout the whole way towards the hotel, filling the silence with awkward, mostly one-sided chattering. It felt weirdly formal walking to the hotel like this. Still mere strangers.

"You talk a lot, don't you." Tianyou stated, hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket just as the hotel came into view. A gray inornate building oozing anonymity.

"Sorry."

"No, it's fine."

A few moments of silence passed. Ichiban fumbled with the hem of his jacket, put his hands into the pockets, got them out again.

"You seemed pretty sure I'd be interested." He finally said and Tianyou snickered.

"You were kinda very obviously checking me out. So I was pretty sure you at least wouldn't be too offended at the proposition. Took my chances. Most times I'm right." 

Spoken like someone who was used to getting exactly what he wanted.

Tianyou picked out a room at the ticket counter. Ichiban watched as he booked the room, a regular one, nothing special, for 90 minutes. Ichiban's mouth felt dry. Tianyou paid upfront, handed his cash to the faceless hands at the reception and got a key card in return.

90 minutes.

It both felt entirely too long and way too short at the same time.

This whole endeavor could either end very abruptly, if he shot his load within moments because he hadn't been with anyone in a very long time, or could turn out very long and extremely awkward if he couldn't even get it up because he was too nervous.

What am I doing here

The room appeared to be clean, smelled vaguely sweet, some synthetic flower aroma to overpower the faint smell of bleach. Nothing special, really. Practical. A big western bed, a desk and two chairs. Condoms and a box of tissues on the bedside table. He watched as Tianyou strolled into the room, leaving his shoes at the door and shrugging off his leather jacket to hang it over one of the chairs. 

It wasn't like this was Ichiban's first love hotel visit. The last time he had seen one from the inside, the decor had been kitsch as kitsch can. It probably had been cheaper than this place, even. It had been three days before his then-girlfriend dumped him, because he had kept canceling their plans on short notice for business with the Young Master - around three months before his last birthday outside of jail. They hadn’t even parted on bad terms. It wasn’t like he could fault her for it. They’d been together for more than a year at that point. A year of him wondering why she was putting up with his life. She had been too good for him from the beginning - not part of the world he’d grown up in.

And of course there had been Yosuke who he had exclusively met at Red Brick Hotel for almost a year. They’d been sharing a class, a passion for video games and a shy kiss they both agreed on that had meant nothing. When Ichiban had dropped out of school, they didn’t see each other for six years - until an accidental run-in in the gym Ichiban was training at. He had just gotten the first outline of his irezumi then. Yosuke had been working an ordinary office job. Somehow Let’s meet up for drinks and catch up had turned into something else entirely. Something good, Ichiban had assumed, until one day Yosuke had canceled last-minute on their usual time and date. He had run into him that evening. Right on Theater Square at a food stand, a young woman hanging at his arm. Once Yosuke had spotted him, he had called him over, even introduced her, his fiancée. Ichiban’s heart had splintered in his chest at the word. It had felt like a punch in the gut. Afterwards he had ignored all the texts and calls Yosuke had been sending, until he eventually stopped trying.  

This today felt very different somehow. Almost like a business transaction. 

"You okay?" Tianyou's voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he realized he was still lingering at the door. Ichiban felt his face heat up.

"Yeah, I just-" He cleared his throat, left his shoes next to Tianyou's boots, put his jacket on a coat hook and stepped into the room. "I don't usually do that." 

"What? Men?"

"No. Hookups."

Tianyou sauntered over, entirely too sure of himself and simply put his arms around Ichiban's shoulders. Ichiban inhaled shakily. It had been 18 years. 18 damn years. He didn't know why the realization only hit him now, making his knees weak and having him tense up. Tianyou's aftershave clouded his brain. He stood there, basically useless, instead of putting his hands on Tianyou's hips, even though he wanted to.

"Then why’d you take me up on the offer?"

"I don't know, you seem nice?"

"You know, nice isn't what most people look for in a hookup, Ichiban." The way he purred his name gave him goosebumps.

"And you’re pretty hot."

Tianyou leaned in closer, lips close to his ear, his hot breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of Ichiban’s neck. "Better." 

Ichiban's breath hitched as a shiver ran down his spine.

"I think we need to loosen you up a bit."

Tianyou didn't draw away, but his arms left Ichiban's shoulders, his hands ran along his chest, his sides, then back up and slowly began to unbutton his dress shirt. Immediately after he was done, his fingers sneaked under the fabric. The rings felt cool against Ichiban's skin, made him shiver, as his hands wandered upwards, over his abdomen, thumbs just so brushing across his nipples. Then, Tianyou pushed the shirt off his shoulders, down his arms until it slid to the floor. 

Tianyou let out an appreciative hum, as his hands sneaked over Ichiban's body again and he took a small step back, to give him another satisfied once-over. His gaze lingered at his chest. Carefully he touched the scar tissue there with cat-like curiosity, but didn't inquire about the obvious bullet wound. 

Tianyou's eyes wandered south to where Ichiban’s dick was already uncomfortably pressing against the fabric of his pants. 

Tianyou's lips pulled into a grin and he opened Ichiban's jeans, pushed his hand inside his boxers, taking him in his hand. It took all of Ichiban’s self control to stay still, his breath escaping him with a grunt. 

"That's your idea of loosening me up?" Ichiban got out between gritted teeth. 

"What would you call it?" Tianyou let go of him with a wicked smile. 

"Getting me worked up. Not that I'm complaining." 

Tianyou laughed quietly, dropped to his knees and busied himself by working Ichiban’s pants down his legs, bit by bit, until Ichiban could eventually step out of his jeans. Swallowing hard, Ichiban dared to look down. Tianyou’s mouth was just centimeters away from where his dick was straining the black fabric of his boxers. Teasingly, Tianyou leaned in closer, close enough that Ichiban could feel his warm breath even through the fabric. Tianyou’s fingers wandered up his calves, fingernails just slightly dragging over his skin as his hands wandered higher, up the backside of his thighs, while he leaned in even closer, lips ghosting over his dick, not fully touching yet still earning a desperate gasp out of him. Tianyou’s eyes shot up again to meet his, a cocky grin on his face as his tongue flicked out, just so touching the underside of his dick through the fabric, making Ichiban’s hips jerk forward involuntarily. 

As Tianyou’s hands reached his ass, they gave it a squeeze that couldn’t really be called gentle, then went straight for the waistband of the boxers and slowly pulled them downl, leaving Ichiban completely naked. 

The cool air of the AC left goosebumps on Ichiban's skin. Ignoring his dick, Tianyou pressed his lips to the now revealed skin of his hips. After giving his ass another squeeze, he stood back up again.

As much as he was mildly disappointed that Tianyou didn’t put his mouth on him, Ichiban also couldn’t help but feel relieved as well, as he wouldn’t have been able to last more than mere moments, the sight and the sensations of it all being a little too much already. 

"That's much better." Tianyou's eyes appeared to be drinking in the sight of him, echoing the moment they’d shared in the smoker’s lounge earlier. Except that now Ichiban didn’t just feel naked, but actually was, while Tianyou was still fully clothed. The fact should have embarrassed him. Instead, it sent a wicked thrill through him that went straight to his dick. Tianyou leaned in close again, wrapping his arms around him. His own hard dick now pressing against Ichiban’s, only separated by Tianyou’s pants.

"I want to fuck you." Tianyou's hands were on his back, dancing along his spine, one finger drawing a straight line downwards, until it teasingly slid between his ass cheeks. "Would you like that?" All the blood still left circulating in Ichiban’s brain went south. The finger brushed over his entrance, not pressing in, just barely grazing the sensitive skin.

Their dicks pressing against each other, Ichiban was desperate to chase the friction, impatiently wishing for those last layers of clothing to disappear. Tianyou’s elevated breathing felt hot against the shell of his ear.

"At least you're not gonna make me beg for it."

Tianyou laughed at that.

"Don't go giving me ideas."

Ichiban didn't think it through, acting on pure instinct as he caught Tianyou’s lips with his own. In part because he’d wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face, but really because kissing him had been on his mind since Tianyou had joined him in his booth. Or maybe since their eyes had met first. Only when Tianyou froze against him for a terrible, long moment, did it occur to him that it might have been the wrong thing to do. 

He knew that some guys wouldn't kiss on hookups, saying that that of all things was too intimate. As if fucking wasn't somehow. 

Ichiban pulled back, an apology ready on his lips. “Shit, I’m sorry I-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, as Tianyou surged forward, kissing him with fervor, quickly taking control again, catching Ichiban’s bottom lip between his teeth, coaxing him to open up. Once Ichiban parted his lips, his tongue slipped between them immediately. 

Ichiban finally managed to move, grab the other man's waist, run his hands along his sides and finally between them, his fingers working to unbutton his shirt, fighting his instinct to just rip it open in his own growing impatience that made every fickle button a struggle. When it was finally open, his hands found warm skin underneath, toned muscles tensing under his fingers. He wandered upwards, his thumbs brushing over his nipples, finding the right one pierced through. Tianyou moaned into his mouth as he carefully twisted it. Encouraged, Ichiban began to urge him towards the bed, almost surprised Tianyou didn’t put up any resistance and instead let himself be guided backwards until he met the edge of the bed. With a gentle push Ichiban had him sit down. 

“So, now what?” Tianyou leaned back on his elbows, a challenging grin on his face, his shirt hanging open, revealing a tattoo peeking out right below his collar bone. There was another tattoo, starting just below his ribs and ending right above his hipbone where his pants began. The design was clean, sharp and elegant. A praying mantis. All black ink, down to the delicate twig she was sitting upon. Only what appeared to be the master’s signature was written in dark red ink between the creature’s legs. His eyes went further down to where Tianyou’s dick was pressing against the front of his tight pants. 

Ichiban swallowed hard, then kneeled down on the floor between Tianyou’s legs, running his hands along his thighs, up to his hips.  He leaned in closer, lips trailing the fine lines of the tattoo, kissing his way to the middle of his lower abdomen until the fine line of hair leading down from his navel tickled his lips. He could feel Tianyou’s erection press against his throat. Eagerly he opened Tianyou’s pants, trying to get them down. They didn’t budge. Impatiently, he managed to pull them down far enough to release his dick. Tianyou reacted with a relieved shudder. 

Ichiban didn’t waste any time, leaned in close and trailed the underside of Tianyou’s dick with his tongue, until he could cover the head with his lips.

Maybe he was a bit out of practice, probably a whole lot. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to make up for it with fervor. 

Tianyou*s hand reached for the back of Ichiban’s neck, fingers gripping at his hair, not hard enough to hold him in place, just enough to urge him on. Curling his tongue against the shaft, Ichiban took him in deeper, closed his eyes, getting lost in the sensation. 

Tianyou’s hips jerked, as Ichiban hollowed out his cheeks, tongue pressing against the underside of his dick, while his fingers were closed around the base of him. 

Slowly he began to bob his head, his hands following his movements, listening to the huffs and moans it earned him, as the grip on the back of his neck tightened, pulling at his hair. 

“Stop.” 

Ichiban’s eyes shot up, wondering if he’d done something wrong. Slowly he released him from his mouth with a pop, quickly wiping at his mouth.

“Sorry, did I -” He began, but Tianyou stopped him quickly.  

“No, it’s-” Tianyou seemed to collect himself. “- if you go on, there’s no way I’ll be able to fuck you before our time’s up.”

Ichiban felt his face heat up and his dick twitch at the thought. 

 Oh.

“You finally gonna get my pants off or what?” 

Ichiban snorted, but tried to do as he was told, pulling at the unforgiving fabric. 

“You know, those pants look great on you and all but, man, are they a pain to get off.”

“Make an effort.”

Ichiban did. He yanked them down including his underwear. It was a struggle all the way down, even more to get the second leg off. 

The sight was completely worth it though. Ichiban looked up at Tianyou, who was watching him intently from half-hooded eyes, his breath escaping him in huffs through parted lips, his dick curving towards his abdomen, a flush spreading from his face and over his neck down to his chest. 

"Get on the bed." Tianyou’s voice had dropped deeper, the slight sing-song entirely gone. 

"Bossy." Ichiban shot back, teasingly with a grin, yet got up from his knees.

"You don't seem to mind." Tianyou got up as well, wrapping his arms around his neck again and pressing his body flush against his, their dicks moving against each other without any offending fabric now. 

“I don’t.” Ichiban answered, out of breath. 

“Good.”

Tianyou turned them around and gave Ichiban a slight push. He fell backwards onto the bed. It was surprisingly soft and smelled vaguely like laundry detergent and starch. Ichiban propped himself up on his elbows, eyes on Tianyou who watched him with a raw kind of hunger that sent electric jolts through his body. Tianyou got his shirt off, throwing it carelessly to the floor. Ichiban’s eyes widened. 

His left arm was covered almost entirely in ink, right down to his wrist, stopping just high enough it could be hidden under a shirt sleeve. A serpent, the tail wrapping around his forearm, the head rested near his chest, nestling up against his collarbone. It looked both traditional and modern, drawn in black and white ink. Just like the mantis, only what seemed like the master’s signature was stitched in dark red ink under the snake’s head. Ichiban didn't know much about tattoo styles and their origins but he knew that ink like that didn't come cheap.

For a short moment he considered what circumstances could possibly lead to a guy like him getting ink like that. If it was just part of tattoos being far more common nowadays or if they meant something else. Ichiban’s train of thought was abruptly interrupted when Tianyou joined him on the bed, climbing on top of him, catching his lips in a hungry kiss again. Ichiban let his hands explore, running his hands along his thighs, his back, everywhere he could reach.

Eventually Tianyou broke the kiss.

“Turn around.” Tianyou’s voice sounded deeper than before, a bit husky.

Ichiban didn’t hesitate, got comfortable on his belly, resting his head on his crossed arms, while he heard Tianyou putting his rings on the nightstand. The nightstand’s drawer opened and closed with a creak. 

The mattress shifted as Tianyou moved over him. Ichiban felt Tianyou’s knees touch either side of his hips and he bit the inside of his cheek. 

"Well, would you look at that." 

It took Ichiban a moment to realize what Tianyou was talking about, until fingers were tracing the ink on his back. Immediately and involuntarily he tensed up.

“Don’t worry.” Fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders, gently trying to work the tension out again. “Believe me, that’s not the first irezumi I see from this perspective.”

Tianyou took to tracing the tattoo again, starting on his right shoulder. He took his time, making his way along his back, with his fingers at first, then following them with his lips, wandering along his spine, until Ichiban could barely remember what he had worried about in the first place. 

Tianyou’s necklace brushed over his skin, the cool metal making him shiver. 

Ichiban closed his eyes. With Tianyou’s lips on the small of his back, he barely registered the sound of a lid flipping open. 

He didn’t even try to suppress his moan when he finally felt a finger pushing into him. Tianyou took his sweet time, getting him used to at first one, then two and finally three fingers, drawing it out, leaving Ichiban impatient, until he was pushing back against Tianyou’s fingers, his dick rubbing against the sheets with every move. 

“And here I thought–”, Ichiban gasped, when Tianyou bent his fingers again just right, coaxing another moan out of him. “-you wouldn’t make me beg for it.”

Tianyou answered with a snicker, but slowly pulled his fingers out.

“And I told you not to go giving me ideas. Get on your knees.”

Ichiban didn’t need to be told twice. Feeling just slightly awkward waiting on all fours, he could hear a condom wrapper being ripped open. Finally Tianyou’s hands were back on him, running over his back as he positioned himself behind him. 

Ichiban closed his eyes, as he felt Tianyou slowly pushing in, trying to focus on staying relaxed. Tianyou took his sweet time, only pushing further once Ichiban felt relaxed enough to push back against him. A low moan escaped both of them, once he was buried inside him to the hilt. 

Fuck, he had missed that.

Slowly he felt Tianyou pulling out again, almost entirely, pushing back inside with one slow thrust. Ichiban braced himself with one hand against the headboard. Tianyou continued like that, slow, controlled thrusts that felt like he was holding himself back for Ichiban’s sake. 

It wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t what he needed. Not after 18 years of involuntary abstinence.

“Harder.” He brought out. “Please.” 

It seemed like Tianyou had just waited for him to ask. He grabbed Ichiban’s neck, pushed his upper body down onto the bed and began pounding into him without holding back this time, bringing whiny moans out of him with every single thrust, the new angle making him see stars.

Ichiban’s thighs were already shaking, when Tianyou grabbed his dick firmly, letting him fuck his hand to the rhythm of his thrusts. It became too much too quickly, his breaths leaving him in sharp huffs. His knees buckled as he came, his orgasm hitting him so hard that he felt his whole body shake. Only Tianyou kept holding him up now, barely so. Through his haze, Ichiban barely realized Tianyou’s movements becoming more erratic and uncoordinated, every thrust sent aftershocks through his overstimulated body. Tianyou’s fingers dug into the skin of Ichiban’s hips, as he came with another deep thrust and collapsed on top of him. No longer being supported, Ichiban’s legs gave out and he too collapsed onto the bed. Tianyou’s heavy breath was hot against his shoulder blades. He could stay like that, with the comfortable warmth and weight of this other person resting on top of him, but soon Tianyou moved, pulling out and lying next to him instead. Ichiban regarded it with a sleepy grumble, allowing his eyes to fall shut for a few moments. 

Ichiban felt himself dozing off, when a light slap on his ass jerked him awake.

"Time's almost up."

"Shit." 

With a groan, Ichiban turned on his back, looked at Tianyou who was sitting next to him and watched him over his shoulder. His whole back was covered in ink, same style like the mantis and the snake on his arm, a dragon and a tiger, snarling at each other. Again a mixture of traditional and modern style, all black ink except for the master's signature in a dark red on his hip.

"How much time do we've got left?"

"Enough to get dressed and head out without me having to pay more."

"Shit." Ichiban said again.

Ichiban could see Tianyou readying himself for a goodbye as they stepped onto the pavement out onto the street. Bye. Thanks, it was fun. Tianyou cleared his throat and - 

"You hungry, man?" Ichiban blurted out, before the other man had any chance to form the well-prepared words he was probably always using in a situation like this. 

"What?" The honest open surprise Tianyou met him with had him grinning involuntarily. 

"I'm starving. There's a Smile Burger around here somewhere, I think." 

"You wanna have… fries for breakfast?" Tianyou asked incredulously. The controlled facade he had worn the entire evening fell. Like this simple question had completely disrupted his usual routine. The irritation with which Tianyou looked at him was almost comical.

"C'mon, I'm buying. You paid for the hotel. Then we can call it quits."

Ichiban was sure he would turn him down but instead the man shrugged with a defeated smile. "Fine, why not." 

Ichiban beamed at him.

Smile Burger at this time of the morning was an eerie place. The sun was just slowly coming up, the young woman behind the counter sounded like a robot and appeared to stare right through them as they ordered. 

The place was packed with people who were either still awake or already, both groups trying to stay as far away from each other as possible. 

The buzz from the alcohol was slowly wearing off, leaving Ichiban exhausted. He felt sticky and sore. The good kind of sore, though. Food. A Shower. Sleep. That was on his agenda now. He couldn’t really tell if the food was good or not. But it was greasy and salty and that was all that really mattered right now. 

"So, what do you do, when you're not hanging around in bars?" Ichiban licked some burger sauce from his fingers. 

"Like, in my free time?" Tianyou looked up from his half eaten burger, grabbed a few fries from the box in the middle of the table. 

"Yeah. Or as a job? Whatever you wanna talk about."

Tianyou seemed like he had to contemplate his answer for a while. "I'm a cook." He finally said.

"You must be a pretty good one, to afford ink like that."

"You really wanna talk ink?" Tianyou raised an eyebrow and licked the salt from his fingers. Ichiban tried not to watch it too obviously. 

"I'm just a civilian, if that's what you're wondering. We can talk ink all night."

"If you're calling yourself a civilian, you definitely aren't one." Tianyou stopped himself very obviously, maybe realizing that saying this had revealed a bit too much. Ichiban had figured the guy might be Liumang. He just hoped he wasn't working for Lao Ma.

"Okay, I'll bite. What do you do, Ichiban?"

"Whatever's available."

"Like what?"

"Like…small security gigs, mostly. Honest work. What do you enjoy most about cooking?"

"You trying to turn this into a date?" Tianyou shot right back at him instead of answering the question. There was a teasing tone in his voice. “With the questions and all?”

"You think I would do junk food while the sun isn't up yet as a date? Cut me some slack, I can do better than that."

"Good to know."

"I can show you."

"Very smooth. But I'm not in the market for dates at the moment. Nothing personal."

"That's too bad."

"You get bonus points for not giving up that easily without being annoying about it."

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” 

Tianyou simply snorted at this, shook his head and turned his attention back to the rest of the burger in front of him. 

Tianyou looked very different like this. Focused on eating the mediocre fast food, his hair disheveled, messy strands falling into his face, smudged stains on his glasses. Real. It was endearing. It was the reason Ichiban had never gone much for hookups because he’d always ended up looking at the other person just like he did now. 

"What?" Tianyou frowned at him, when he noticed him staring.

"Nothing." Ichiban lowered his eyes.

"I got something on my face?"

"No, you just look…" 

"Fucked out? Because that's what I feel like. And also what you look like. It's a good look on you, though."

"Thanks. I meant to say cute, but that works, too."

"Oh, you're that kinda guy." Tianyou clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The kind who just says shit like that over fries after getting his brains fucked out." Tianyou shoved his knee against his under the table.

Ichiban slurped on his coke, while he felt his ears and neck turning hot. 

 "Didn't know there was a kind of guy like that." He finally managed. 

Tianyou's cell phone on the table lit up, catching his attention. The flirty face fell the moment he noticed it and picked it up with a frown. 

He answered it in what Ichiban identified as Mandarin, his tone sharp. There was a bit of back and forth. Enough for Tianyou’s demeanor to change entirely. His face, his tone got harder, he sat up straighter. Ichiban didn’t understand a word of what was being said, just that it didn't seem like good news. And that it effectively burst the little bubble they had created for themselves. When he finally hung up he plastered a fake, cocky smile onto his lips. 

"Sorry, Ichiban. Gotta run.” He stood, shrugging the leather jacket back on. “Work calls."

"It's 5 am. Didn't you say you were a cook?" 

Tianyou winked at him, giving his shoulder a little squeeze as he passed him by, lingering on the skin of his neck, just below his hairline with two of his fingers.

"There any chance you're leaving your number?" 

"I'll be seeing you, Ichiban."

And with that, he left. Ichiban watched him enter a black car that seemed to have been waiting for him, a broad guy in a black suit having opened the door for him.

When Ichiban eventually returned to the Shichifuku, the sun was already rising. Hamako and two of her girls were smoking outside.

“Looks like someone had a successful night.” Hamako commented, with a grin and the girls giggled. 

“You could say that.” He simply replied and made his way to the little room he currently called home. 

When he slid the door open, the overpowering smell of too many people and too little space greeted him. Saeko was rolled into a small ball like a cat on his futon, she had exchanged her snug dress for one of his t-shirts and sweatpants that were almost comically large on her. Adachi was sprawled out on his back on Nanba’s futon, his jacket discarded in a corner of the room, his belly falling and rising with every snore. Nanba was sleeping between them on the floor, taking up little space, his hands neatly folded on his chest. The air smelled stale. A mix of too many people breathing, booze perspiration and cold smoke. An ashtray revealed that Saeko hadn’t made it through the night without smoking. There was something about the sight that made his heart swell. Everything about this spelled home to him. 

Ichiban shrugged out of his jacket and headed for the bathroom they were sharing with the girls. Quickly he washed his face, brushed his teeth. A shower had to wait a bit longer. For now all his body craved was sleep. 

When he returned to the room,  Saeko was awake, sitting there cross-legged, face puffy and lines on her face from the futon. Somehow she still managed to give him a piercing, explorative stare. So much for some sleep.

“Pay up, Adachi.” She said, in lieu of greeting him, a satisfied grin on her face. 

An annoyed grunt came from the man on Nanba’s futon. 

“Later.”

Ichiban let himself drop onto the floor. 

“What were you guys betting on?” He grabbed a bottle of water from the only shelf in the room and took a few big gulps. 

“On you getting laid.” Nanba answered from his place on the floor without moving an inch or any other indication that he was actually awake. 

“And you thought I wouldn’t find someone?”

"Nah, I just thought you'd fuck it up and wouldn't get any." Adachi laughed and heaved himself into a sitting position right next to Ichiban. 

"Rude, man. Cut me some slack."

"Looking at the time and at you, I was obviously wrong. So, to the more important question - " Adachi slapped Ichiban’s back hard enough to punch the air out of him. "Who was it?"

“It was the guy with the rings, wasn’t it? The smoking buddy?” Saeko chimed in. 

“My money’s on Sumire-chan.” Nanba raised an arm to make his point. 

“She left an hour before you guys.” Ichiban corrected him, flatly. 

“Then I’m with Saeko.”

“You can’t just change your opinion mid-bet.” Saeko was apparently pretty serious about this. Nanba grumbled something and put his arm back down. 

“It was the guy with the rings.” Ichiban eventually verified. 

“So, you gonna meet him again?” 

“Nah, he’s not so much into dating.” Only after saying it out loud, he realized how disappointed he sounded and felt, a single glance into his friends’ faces showed him that it must have been obvious to them as well. 

So he was glad when they didn’t pry any further.

;

“We’ve got a problem, Kasuga.” 

Ichiban flicked his eyes away from Takabe, who was staring at something behind him, to face Adachi in confusion. 

“The boss of the restaurant is here.” Adachi’s eyes were fixed on the restaurant’s opulent entrance, a concerned frown on his face.

“Boss?” Ichiban echoed lamely and turned around as well. And stared at the man who had just appeared.

“The leader of the Yokohama Liumang… They call him Zhao.”

“So he’s the top guy…”

Puzzle pieces were clicking together, when Ichiban watched the leader of the Liumang walk down the stairs, strolling towards them like he had all the time in the world, carrying himself with the kind of attitude Ichiban had only ever witnessed from the Tojo big wigs. Of someone who was used to being in control, call the shots. It made a lot of sense now, in hindsight. From the behavior of the barkeeper and the thugs on the street to the ink down to the damn cigarette. The car. The phone call.

He barely perceived Nanba, who was wondering out loud if this guy had ordered Nonomiya’s death. 

Zhao, Adachi had said, he was called. Ichiban couldn’t help but question if Tianyou even was his real first name. The irony that Ichiban had found himself hoping Tianyou, no Zhao, wasn’t working for Mabuchi wasn’t lost on him. 

“Mabuchi sent me an interesting video, you know.” There was a smirk on the man’s lips that didn’t reach his eyes, as he got his phone out to show them a video of far-too familiar events. “Isn’t this you in it?”

“They edited the video! You’re wrong! I’m not with the Seiryu Clan!”

Zhao strode over, far too calm, stopped close enough that a whiff of his aftershave wafted over to Ichiban, The same he had worn that night. “Oh, you’re not, are you?” Zhao passed him by. Ichiban was reminded of how he hadn’t believed him to be a civilian. Probably had suspected him to be Seiryu right then. “Then why did you investigate Mabuchi?” He stopped next to where Takabe was still kneeling on the floor in defeat. 

“Because-”

Before Ichiban got any chance to answer, Zhao pulled out a gun and put it to Takabe’s head, his smile so sharp and humorless, his eyes so cold, Ichiban felt his throat close up. 

“The truth, now.”

It seemed impossible to imagine this guy, the man with the gun, ready to execute them on the spot, the man who was apparently Mabuchi’s boss, eating fries while the sun was on the rise, disheveled and with his guard down. He carried the gun like he was used to wielding it. Used to using it. 

Not used to not being the one in control. 

But there was a thing that became pretty clear to Ichiban behind all his demeanor. He had no idea about Nonomiya. And more importantly - he had no idea what Mabuchi was up to. And if there was a thing leaders usually didn’t like, it was underlings challenging their authority. 

After the first few warning shots, he was also pretty sure that Zhao had no intention of actually shooting them. He was putting up a show for his boys, making clear who was in charge. All the talk about being ready to start that war, when he seemingly had just as little knowledge about what was really going on as they did. 

Wanna get a leader type to do something? Respect the hierarchy but challenge their pride. Politely. It wasn’t that hard, really.

“Do you guys want a war? No, right?!” Ichiban’s voice echoed around the courtyard. Zhao’s head jerked around. “You’re fine to let Mabuchi pull your strings?” Zhao’s eyes squinted at that. Bingo. “We can still stop this from coming to war.”

Appeal to their pride.

“Didn’t I just say…” Zhao’s voice dropped, a dangerous, low hiss,. “...not to lecture me?”

“This isn’t a lecture.” Ichiban took a step towards him. “Consider it a formal complaint.” Respect authority. “You wanna lead a big organization, then you’ve gotta listen to people sometimes.”

Zhao seemed to consider him for a moment, his eyes taking him in a way that was familiar. His lips twitched into a smile. “Ha, a complaint, huh?” He snickered humorlessly. “Kasuga Ichiban, wasn’t it?” 

Ichiban swallowed, nodded.

“Fine, I’m all ears.”

Hook. Line.

And sinker. 

“I can’t believe we’re not dead.” Nanba muttered, as they walked out of Restaurant street with far too many eyes following them. 

“I can’t believe you yelled at that guy.” Adachi added. 

“I can’t believe you hooked up with the boss of the Liumang.” Saeko hissed at Ichiban.

Ichiban, too, had a hard time believing any of it. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

As it turned out, Zhao didn’t want to talk about it either, not even when Ichiban carefully tried to breach the topic whenever they had a couple of drinks together at the Survive Bar. He was flirtatious, sure, and Ichiban gladly went with it, even if it felt like picking up crumbs sometimes. It always remained non-committal. Maybe, Ichiban thought, hookups was all he was in for and he really wasn't interested in Ichiban beyond that.

With the guy he had met that night at the club and the boss of the Liumang they had seen in that courtyard of the restaurant, there seemed to be this other Zhao, who was jovial and friendly, up for a drink and karaoke any time, yet somehow unapproachable, keeping everyone at an arm’s length. It was hard to get behind that facade. 

But Ichiban was more than fine with fighting and getting hurt in the process as long as the result seemed worth it. 

And everytime he got another glimpse behind the mask, behind those shades, it was. The outcome might not turn out to be a date or anything like it, but if it would earn him Zhao’s friendship and trust out of it, he would be more than satisfied with the outcome. 

;

Ichiban wasn’t a light sleeper, usually. He had the ability to sleep under any circumstances - a skill he had picked up during his time growing up in the soapland. There had never really been quiet nights. The building had always been busy, the streets never silent. It had been helpful during his time in the slammer. It was helpful now that he usually shared a room with at least two other people. 

And yet something made him wake up. It was dark in the room above the Survive, barely any sounds drifting in from the outside. He listened to light footsteps on the tatami floor followed by a door opening and clicking back closed again. The steps of the staircase were creaking.

Ichiban sat up. Nanba was still asleep on his futon, only identifiable by his hair peeking out from under the blanket. Joon-gi was out on some Geomijul business. That only left Zhao. Ichiban briefly considered staying in bed. It had been a shitty day - more for Zhao than for him. Hopefully they'd seen the last of Mabuchi for quite some time - or ever. His body rebelled angrily, as he got up. There definitely had to be a large bruise forming on his ribs, his knuckles were sore and raw from the fight. Damn Zheng. 

As he tottered down the stairs, his mind was on Zhao, and the way he'd fought today. He was always fast, terrifyingly elegant, as effective as he was evasive. People barely managed to even touch him. It had been different today. Down in the tunnels, facing Mabuchi and his goons, Zhao had fought recklessly. Driven by pure, unadulterated rage. 

Zhao had warned Ichiban beforehand that he would get to see a very different side of him. And he had been right. It had felt utterly satisfying that Zhao had been the one to disarm Mabuchi. In a swift move he had ducked away under another attack of his guandao, only to crush his wrist with a well placed hit with the hilt of his saber. The lance had cluttered to the floor. At this point Mabuchi had been the last one standing. He wouldn't for long. While he was busy cradling his hand, his features contorted in an even uglier mask of pain, Zhao had elbowed him right in the face and then swiped his legs away from under him, bringing him effectively to the floor as well. 

For a moment, with Mabuchi on his back, holding his broken wrist, blood running from his nose and Zhao standing over him, sword hovering above Mabuchi’s head, Ichiban had wondered if Zhao had decided to kill him after all. Get back at him for the humiliation. For the betrayal.

But instead, after a few moments, Zhao had taken a step back,  allowing Mabuchi to crawl back onto his feet. 

Carefully, Ichiban peeked around the corner and into the quiet bar. It was dark, the only light falling in through the windows came from the distant street lamps outside. 

Zhao sat at the bar in a black tank top and silky looking pajama pants, naked feet dangling in the air. No jewelry except for the earrings he never seemed to take off. Somehow this was a lot closer to the guy he’d glimpsed at in that shitty fast food place. There was his usual bottle and a whiskey tumbler in front of him. 

“You’re terrible at stealth, Kasuga-kun.”

The way Zhao said his name made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Not trying to be stealthy.” Ichiban buried his hands in the pockets of his sweats and took a few uncertain steps into the room, lingering there, waiting for any indication that his presence was welcome. Eventually Zhao waved him over. He propped his head up on his hand and watched Ichiban with an unreadable smirk on his lips. 

Ichiban sat down next to him, turning his body towards him. 

“You okay?” His voice sounded disturbingly loud to himself somehow. There was a fresh cut on Zhao’s cheek, probably not deep enough to leave a scar, where Mabuchi’s guandao had grazed him earlier. His bottom lip was split, where he hadn't managed to escape a well-placed hook. Ichiban fought the urge to run his thumb over it. 

Zhao remained silent for a while, circling the rim of his glass with his middle finger.

“Remember when you asked me what I liked about cooking?” It was the first time Zhao even acknowledged that night. “I used to cook when I couldn’t sleep.” Ichiban watched him take a sip from his glass, watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Not for myself. But there was always someone around to give it to. It’s not like anybody’s gonna tell you no, when the boss treats you to a meal, right?” He snickered mirthlessly. Ichiban could see it. He could easily imagine exactly how he would have felt, how special. Even if the meal was just a result of insomnia and boredom. It would have felt like a prize, a pat on the shoulder, acknowledgment. He’d been there. “When we were younger, before I had to take over for my old man, I used to cook for Mabuchi, too. We'd break into the kitchens and steal some booze from the bar and I’d make an absolute mess of the kitchen.” 

There was a mix of bitterness and nostalgia in his voice. It seemed impossible to imagine Mabuchi’s mean mug in a scenario like this. The same man who had used the unwavering trust Zhao had placed in him to catch him unaware, evidently more than ready to torture and kill him. It made Ichiban wish he could punch him out again,

Possibly even that Seong-hui would hunt him down after all.

“You know you deserve better than him, right?”

 “What?” Zhao turned his head to face him, dumbstruck.

“You deserve better than someone who throws away your loyalty for the promise of power.” Ichiban didn’t say love even if he meant it. Even if he had had any doubts, the encounter today had basically confirmed what he had suspected, very since Zhao had first broached the topic of his relation to Mabuchi. 

“I don't think he was ever interested in anything I had to offer but power. Unfortunately it took a coup d’état and two  attempts on my life to cure me from deluding myself of believing anything else.” 

They fell into silence for a while. Ichiban’s thoughts lingered on the events of the day and the revelations it had brought. How it must have felt to be betrayed by the one person you always had made sure to protect, who you fought for, no questions asked, never asking for anything in return. Lost in thought, he scratched at the scar on his chest. His gaze wandered along the bar. He frowned as he noticed a phone on the counter. A closer inspection revealed it to be Adachi’s: one corner of the screen had splintered when it had fallen out of his pocket during karaoke one night. Must have forgotten it when he left earlier. He put it back and turned back to Zhao. 

Zhao took a large sip from his glass and faced him. “Why did you come with me to the hotel?”

“What?” The sudden change of topic caught Ichiban by surprise.

“That night. You said you weren’t into hookups. Now I know I’m irresistible of course but-” Zhao winked at him. 

“Honestly?”

“Yeah? ”

“I was locked up for 18 years and then a very beautiful man, who actually appeared to want me, came along. And maybe I had the tiniest of hopes that it might turn out as more than just the one hookup in the end.”

"How do you manage to keep saying this kind of stuff? Just like that."

"You wanted to know."

"You know, Kasuga-kun, if I had known about that I probably wouldn't have slept with you."

Ichiban scolded himself silently that he really needed to work on the fact that he still had an extreme and immediate physical reaction to the way Zhao tended to purr his name.

"Why?"

"I already had a hunch you'd get attached. And here we are."

"And that's a bad thing, why?"

“Because - “ Zhao put a finger on Ichiban’s chest, just for a moment, for emphasis, but Ichiban still felt the ghost of his touch when it was gone. “- somehow you managed to have me catching feelings.”

Ichiban swallowed thickly, his heart suddenly fluttering in his ribcage, feeling like it was about to jump into his throat somehow. 

“I still fail to see the downside.” He somehow managed to say. 

"You're probably the best man I've ever met and you should value yourself more than getting attached to me of all people."

“I’m not-”

Zhao interrupted him, before he had any chance to say more.

“You know, Kasuga-kun, for someone who so easily hands out compliments, you’re really shit at receiving them.”

“So,-” Ichiban nonchalantly lifted the glass from Zhao's hand without asking, taking a large gulp to calm his nerves. “- was that why you turned me down when I asked you out to a date? Because of Mabuchi?” 

Zhao snorted at that and snatched the glass back.

“Partially, yes. But also because dating doesn’t go well with being the boss of a crime syndicate.”

“Well, you aren’t anymore, right? So the question that remains is: What’s stopping you now?”

Zhao cocked his head, seemed to mull over the idea for a bit, his eyes wandering over Ichiban in the piercing kind of way that always gave him goosebumps.

“Okay, so what would that date be since you're still so hung up on that? Humor me.”

Ichiban’s heart made a sudden leap in his chest.

“For real?”

“Just hypothetically. I'm curious.”

“We’d make dinner together. Make sure to have the place for ourselves.”

“Thought you’re no good at cooking.”

“You can show me how to do it right.” Ichiban could almost see it vividly.

“Oh, can I now?”

“Afterwards we'd go catch a movie. At that little cinema with the old flicks.”

Zhao hummed in agreement, a smile on his lips that he tried to hide behind the whiskey tumbler in his hand.

“And then?”

“I’d walk you home.”

“And then be a real gentleman and leave me hanging at the door?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

"Whether you'll invite me in.”

They watched each other for a while. Zhao with his head leaned to the side like he was contemplating. 

“Something’s missing.” He eventually said.

“And what would that be?”

Zhao leaned towards him. The kiss was chaste, almost a little shy. Sweet. It didn’t stay that way for long. Both of them slid from their seats almost simultaneously, bodies colliding in an instant. The kiss turned breathless and sloppy quickly, only broken when Zhao unceremoniously pulled at Ichiban’s shirt to get it off, until Ichiban grabbed it and pulled it over his head. It landed somewhere out of sight. They looked at each other for a moment, both out of breath, Zhao with his back to the bar, lips parted, hair falling into his face.

Ichiban pressed another kiss onto his lips, then he dropped to his knees.  

“I’ve not only been thinking about my plans for the date.”

Zhao answered with a breathless laughter that got stuck in his throat when Ichiban palmed his half-hard dick through the soft fabric of his pajama pants. Zhao’s fingers gently combed through his hair, then brushed along his jaw to cup his chin. Ichiban leaned into the touch.

“Tell me what you were thinking about then.”

Ichiban looked up at him, one hand gripping Zhao’s hip, the other still on his dick.

“How badly I want to suck your dick without you stopping me this time.”

He could feel Zhao shiver at his words.

Zhao brushed his thumb across Ichiban’s lips, pushing in, a lacquered fingernail gently scraping against his teeth.

“You gonna let me cum on your tits?”

Ichiban sucked on his thumb in lieu of an answer, without breaking eye contact.

Suddenly the world turned incredibly bright, as the lights of the bar came alive without any warning. 

“No making out in my bar.” 

They sprang apart so quickly, Ichiban lost his footing and fell onto his ass onto the wooden floor of the bar. The barkeep stood at the door, watching them indifferently. 

“I left my phone here earlier. Have you seen it?” Neither of them answered. Zhao just grabbed Adachi’s phone from the bar and offered it to him. The barkeep walked over, unbothered by the display accepting the device. He briefly inspected it,then nodded. 

“Thank you.” He answered politely. “Now, please, if you must, resume your business in the bedroom.”

They went up the stairs, trying to suppress their giggling like teenagers, shushing each other. Once the door had closed behind them, they crawled back onto their respective futons. The room was quiet. Nanba’s calm breathing resumed as if nothing had happened. Some part of his brain registered that he had left his shirt downstairs. Zhao’s elevated breathing just an arm's length away from him got his attention. Maybe they should just get up and continue what they started in the bathroom, small as it was. He heard the rustling of blankets. A warm body appeared next to his, lips brushed against his earlobe, sending a hot rush down his spine.

“Ichiban.” Zhao’s voice, his hot breath against his ear, the proximity and warmth of Zhao's body, the sudden use of his first name, it all went straight to his dick. In one smooth motion, Zhao sat on top of him, framing his ribs between his thighs. He rolled his hips, pressing the curve of his ass against his dick with a cocky grin on his lips. Ichiban bit his lip to suppress a moan.

Zhao had gotten rid of his shirt. His skin looked eerie from the pale light falling in from the window, the tattoos a stark contrast on his skin, the dark ink swallowing all light, void-like. 

Slowly, Ichiban allowed his hands to wander. Along strong thighs, his narrow hips, over his ribs, halting to teasingly twist his pierced nipple. His fingers traced along the nape of Zhao’s neck to finally cup his face, brushing one thumb over the cut on his cheek. Zhao leaned into the touch, eyes half lidded.

“You’re beautiful.” It was just a whisper. Maybe Zhao hadn’t even been able to hear it. Maybe it had been just a thought after all.  

For a moment Ichiban thought he’d caught a small furrow appearing between Zhao’s brows, a hint of doubt maybe? Hesitation? Then he bowed down, bringing their lips together in another kiss.

“Could you please not do that in here, while I’m around?”

Nanba’s voice had them both freeze.

“Sorry.” They answered in unison. For a long moment nobody moved, Ichiban’s hand still cupping Zhao’s face, their foreheads touching. Ichiban was extremelyaware of Zhao’s dick pressing against his abdomen through his pajama pants. 

“You Tian. Tomorrow. I’ll cook for you.” His lips brushed against Ichiban's with each word.

And with that, he was gone.