Title: Trouble Wears Heels
Author: samsarapine
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Gojyo/Hakkai
Words: About 9,400
Warnings: AU,
violence, a bit of gory detail that many might find disturbing
Summary: "I'm sitting at my table in my
skivvies. Hakkai's playing doctor. It's hard to believe that we only met
twenty-four hours ago."
Disclaimer: Saiyuki characters are the property of
Minekura Kazuya. I make no profit from
this story.
Author's notes: Written for
Nouvellebrielle on the occasion of her
Also,
my deepest thanks to Jedishampoo and Sharpeslass for their beta help. I touched the story last, however, so all
remaining mistakes are mine.
Website: http://samsarapine.livejournal.com
Email: samsarapine [at] yahoo [dot] com
Trouble Wears Heels
I'm
sitting at my table in my skivvies.
Hakkai's playing doctor.
"Tshhit,"
I hiss. "Watch it."
"Sorry,"
Hakkai says. He keeps working on the
fucking bullet hole in my shoulder.
It's
hard to believe that we only met twenty-four hours ago.
*******
I
make it my business not to get in anyone else's, to play it cool. So the first night that I'd heard high heels
clicking across the floor in the rooms above mine, and a little later I'd heard
a man's tread, I ignored it, put on my coat, and went to the bar to hustle
enough pool to buy some cheap whiskey and a newspaper and read about the war.
No. I'm not a soldier. And it's none of your fucking business why.
My
life revolves around the pool halls, the gambling joints, cheap booze, cheap
women, and bad coffee. Twenty-two years
I've been on this rock, and likely to keep going another forty if drink or
smokes or an angry mark doesn't kill me first.
I
live in a boarding house that's one step up from a dive and five steps down
from respectable. Besides me, there's
the old puss on the ground floor who makes a living telling fortunes and
ranting about past lives, while a bald guy with long moustaches lives on the
floor below me. He and the lady on the
first floor are in each other's back pockets, as in, 'he's under her thumb like
a tack.' Across the hall from me is
another guy, a redhead like me. We call
him 'Prince' because he never leaves his rooms unless he's wearing a suit that
was probably spiffy ten years ago but now has cuffs so over-sewn that he's
taken to stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Prince has a sometimes-friend, a big guy with eyes that remind me of my
mother's, though the look in them is less 'homicidal hatred' and a little more
'cool but friendly stranger.' They never
say anything and I never ask, but they're quiet, so no harm, no foul.
And
then there's upstairs.
They're
the new kids on the block; they just moved in about a month ago. Every once in a while I'd see one or the
other on the street or in the hall, and we'd nod and go our ways. They could have been twins from what I could
see, so I suspected that they were related, but my gut and my sense of
self-preservation told me to ignore it, so I did. They looked like once upon a time they might
have come from a better class of people than most of the rest of us here. Real polite, quiet, the kind that wouldn't
look out of place sitting at the opera if they had the green for it. The kind that, if they go bad, might get
caught skimming the books or playing a shell game with the goods.
Not
murder, though. I had 'em pegged.
She was almost painfully shy,
hardly ever coming out of the rooms that I saw, though me being asleep while
most other folks are awake and vice versa may have had something to do with
that. Once she was coming in while I was
going out and I held the door for her.
She dropped her purse fumbling for her key, so I picked it up and gave
it back. She thanked me, blushing. For all her lowered eyes, though, her voice
was the kind that a guy wouldn't mind hearing first thing when he woke up in
the morning.
Which
is why I couldn't have been more the hell surprised last night when I put on my
coat to head out to the pool joint and opened the door and found her leaning
against the wall just outside, wearing a classy black velvet evening gown, one
hand clutched to her bloodstained coat and a pistol dangling from the
other. Her hair dipped and swept over
her eye, just like
She
smiled, polite and apologetic. "I'm
sorry to have disturbed you."
Then
she fainted.
*******
I
got her into the bedroom and stowed the gun in the nightstand, just in
case. I'd just started to take off her bloody
coat when those long lashes started fluttering and opened.
I
found myself staring into the biggest pair of emerald green eyes I'd ever
seen. My heart started pounding like a
jazz drummer's beat and I felt my dick take an interest.
Stupid. Not over a dame, I told myself. Not over anybody. I shrugged it off best as I could and lifted
her a bit more. "I'm trying to get
this coat off you, sweetheart. Could you
shift a little?"
She
sat up in the bed, shaky enough that I kept an arm around her, and just kept
staring at me with those gorgeous eyes.
I saw that there was a rip in the velvet and the area around her stomach
was soaked with blood.
I
swore and tried to figure out a way to keep her from dying if it was as bad as
it looked, or to save what was obviously an expensive dress if it wasn't.
"The
blood isn't all mine," she said, her voice deep and sexy.
"That
means some of it is," I replied.
"We need to get that dress off so I can see how bad it really
is."
"You
can cut it off. I don't need it
anymore."
"Kanny
down on the first floor might be able to save it. She's good with sewing."
"No. I won't wear it, ever again."
Something
in her voice convinced me, and I got out the scissors. "Where's your brother?" I asked,
starting to cut open the front of the dress and trying not to be fresh about
it.
She
paled and looked away. "He's… he's
not here right now," she said.
"Look,
I'm going to leave the top bit for you," I tried to reassure her. "And by the way, the name's Gojyo."
"Gojyo." I'd never heard my name spoken so quietly;
usually people shout or sneer it.
"I killed a man tonight."
I
froze a second, then peeled back the pieces of dress to expose a white stomach
stained red. "Should I be
worried?"
She
blinked and then a slow smile crossed her face.
"No." She closed her
eyes and started to laugh. "No, you
don't need to be worried."
Someone
suddenly started pounding on the front door.
"Police! Open up!"
Her
eyes popped open. We stared at each
other, my thoughts racing like a Thoroughbred.
"I
don't want to get you into trouble," she said. "I'll turn myself in."
I
shook my head and toed off my shoes, kicking them under the bed. "Turn around," I said, starting to
unbutton my shirt. "No reason to
offend your delicate sensibilities."
She
laughed again, sounding a little hysterical.
"Ahaha! Sensibilities? I just murdered a man."
"Yeah,
well, leave me some pride, then," I said.
"Now pull the blankets up and keep quiet." I risked a glance at her. "Sorry about your reputation. But it's only the cops. The rest of us could give a rat's ass."
She
stared at me for a moment with those big, jewel-green eyes. "Thank you, Gojyo," she said in a
funny, breathy voice, and pulled the blankets up.
My
coat and shirt were all over blood, so I stripped them off along with my
undershirt, wiped my hands on them and kicked them under the bed, too. Then I slipped out of the bedroom and closed
the door behind me, giving the place the once-over to make sure that there
wasn't a neon trail of blood leading through the room. My trench had protected my trousers, thank
Christ. I took a deep breath and put on
my poker face.
The
pounding got louder. "Open
up!"
"I'm
coming!" I yanked the door open,
pulling my suspenders over my bare shoulders to make it look like I'd just been
putting on my trousers. "What is
it? I'm trying to sleep in here."
"Have
you seen a young lady tonight? We have a
witness who saw her enter the building."
I
bluff with the best. "The only
young lady I've seen tonight is waiting for me in there," I said,
motioning with my head and glaring.
"I hate to let her get cold, if you catch my drift."
"She
been with you long?" the cop asked, all suspicious-like, though his neck
and ears started burning red.
"Not
long enough." I gave him the eye.
The
blush spread to his cheeks as well.
"Just keep it down, smart-ass," he said, stepping back.
"I
think the young lady might prefer if I keep it up," I retorted.
Before
the flatfoot could say anything else, I closed the door and bolted it, then
pressed my ear to the wood. I listened
as another cop came up the stairs. The
two talked for a second and then pounded on the Prince's door. The Prince was out, so they got no glory from
that and headed down the hall.
I
heard them doing the same upstairs, then it got quiet. I padded across the room and pushed back the
cheap curtains just enough to see the two cops leave the building and head down
the street. There was a flash of white
hair under a streetlight and the cops stopped to talk with a guy who pointed to
our building. I recognized him: he was
the priest from the derelict church down the street, a creepy, smarmy fellow
who made sure that you knew just how much better he was than you, and who preached
every Sunday about the demons of drink and sex to people who'd wandered into
the church to sleep off the effects of both.
Grouse, his name was.
He
should have been called Pigeon.
He
and the cops walked away, towards the church.
Another movement in the shadows of the street caught my eye, so I pushed
the curtain back a little further.
A
man in a fedora and trench coat stepped out of the shadows and lit a
cigarette. Then he looked straight up at
me. Just before I dropped the curtains, I
had the impression of a sharp glare, like I'd pissed the guy off or something.
Cursing,
I ran some hot water into a washbasin and grabbed some old towels before I went
back into the bedroom.
She
was curled under the blankets, facing the door, blinking up at me while I
pulled the chair next to the bed and put the basin and towels on it.
"Did
you hear them?"
She
nodded. "You were quite adept with
the truth."
I
snorted and shook my head.
"Practice."
She
shifted in the bed and winced.
"Sorry
for being so familiar, darlin'," I said and pulled back the covers. "But I need to take a look."
She
had a long, shallow gash across her right side.
It was bloody, but didn't look deep.
I dipped a towel into the water.
"This might hurt some."
She nodded and closed her eyes, lying back on
the pillow, biting her lower lip as I started to clean her up.
There
was a lot more blood than should have come from the shallow wound snaking
across her skin. It really wasn't much
more than a deep scratch; it might scar a bit, but it didn't need
stitches. I pulled the towel back, and
brushed against something cold and slimy.
"What
the–?"
A
bloody hand suddenly gripped my wrist, but I'd already pulled the thing from
where she'd been trying to hide it. I
swallowed hard, then carefully wrapped the heart in a towel and set it aside.
She
studied my face, her grip not loosening.
It was amazingly powerful for such a slender woman. "I told you the blood wasn't all
mine," she said quietly.
"None
of my business," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "I've got to bandage that," I
added, nodding my head towards her middle.
"Thank
you."
"Sweetheart,
I can't do that unless you let me go."
I tugged gently.
"Oh." She released me and glanced at the lump in the
towel before turning back to me. She lay
quietly while I wiped the wound with some of the black-market Zephiran that was
floating around, snagged by shysters making a profit from green kids in khaki. "You're quite an extraordinary
man."
"I've
always had a weak spot for a pretty face."
I taped some gauze over the wound.
"That should do it. I'll get
you some aspirin for the pain, then you'd better get some sleep. It's getting late."
"He
raped and murdered my sister," she said out of the blue. The hatred in her voice made my skin crawl; I
glanced at the towel and its lump, too.
"I
won't get rid of it. I promise."
"Thank
you, Gojyo."
By
the time I got back with the aspirin and a glass of water, she was asleep. I left the pills and water on the nightstand
beside her, picked up the towel with its grisly contents and left the room,
turning off the light and shutting the door behind me. I put the heart in the icebox, towel and all,
and poured myself a whiskey, throwing the first one back before I poured a
second and took it over to the beat-up wingback chair.
Shit. I sat down heavily, sloshing the booze. I put the glass on the end table and rubbed
my face, too drained to even roll a cigarette.
Bloodthirsty
little vixen. I thought of my family. Would I have ever killed someone in revenge
like she had?
It
didn't say much for me that I didn't think so.
I'd never had anyone like that, anyone I loved. Banri was probably the closest, and I'd known
from the start that bastard wasn't any good.
No, I wouldn't have cut out a guy's heart, not for Banri.
I
drained the glass and shoved it aside before I reached for the ragged afghan
hanging on the back of the chair. It
wouldn't be very comfortable, but I'd slept in worse places in my life. I wedged myself into the chair, draped the
afghan around my shoulders, and closed my eyes.
It
occurred to me just as I nodded off that I still didn't even know her name.
*******
The
smell of coffee woke me up.
Getting
out of the chair was like trying to leave an iron maiden. My muscles were stiff and shrill when I
moved, so I took it slow.
I
heard a footstep and looked up. She was
wearing my ratty bathrobe, one arm clutched across her chest while she held out
a cup of coffee.
"Thanks." I took it from her and took a couple of
gulps, feeling the heat run through me and loosening up the tight spots. I looked up.
"It's good. Thanks."
She
smiled, both arms clutched over her chest.
"May I wash up?"
"Sure,"
I said, nodding towards the sink.
"Perhaps
I could get a little privacy?"
Still
half-asleep, it took me a second to figure out why. "Oh.
Sorry. I'll just– " I waved towards the bedroom.
"Thank
you."
I
paused in the kitchenette to pour myself some more coffee, then went into the
bedroom and closed the door. I pulled
together clothes for the day, thinking that I'd wash up after she was done,
when my bladder started cussing me out.
Shit. I'd missed my morning piss. I tried ignoring it, but my insides were
insistent, so I finally put my hand over my eyes, opened my bedroom door, and
dashed past the kitchenette to the can.
"Sorry,
I'm not loo–" I pushed open the
door and ran into someone. I couldn't
help it; I opened my eyes.
She
was standing at the john, pissing.
Standing. While pissing.
With
a dick.
Speechless,
I backed out of the bathroom and closed the door, leaning against it with my
eyes closed. "I didn't see what I
thought I just saw," I muttered.
I
didn't believe me.
"Fuck." I pulled a chair out from the table and
slumped into it, waiting.
He
came out a few moments later, still in my ratty robe, and went to the sink to
wash his hands.
"What's
going on?"
"I'm
sorry for deceiving you," he said, his back to me.
"Fine. Apology accepted. Now what the hell's going on?"
He
turned around and leaned against the sink, his eyes meeting mine. "Everything I told you last night was
true."
"So,
your sister was raped and killed by a guy, and you turned around and dressed up
like a girl and killed him and cut out his heart."
"Essentially,
yes. May I sit?"
"What's
your name?"
"Hakkai
Cho. My grandfather was Chinese. My mother never married," he explained,
probably because I was looking at him like he was crazy.
He
was crazy.
Shit. I needed more coffee.
"Look,
Mr. Cho– "
"Hakkai. Please."
"Sit
down, for fuck's sake." I pushed
his coffee cup over and got up to grab another one from the shelf as he took a
seat at the other side of the table.
"Pour and talk." I settled
in to listen.
He
poured us each fresh coffee, but instead of drinking his, he held his cup
between his hands, staring into it.
"My
sister and I grew up in separate orphanages," he said. "When we got out, we managed to find
each other. I had a scholarship, but it
wasn't enough to start school, so I found a job as an accountant; she found a
job as a waitress. We found a little
flat and moved in." He smiled, so sad
it might have broken my heart if I had one.
"It seemed like everything was going to be perfect."
"Sorry,
but that's a fool's game." I pulled
over my cigarette papers and tobacco, offering it to him. He shook his head, so I rolled a cigarette
for myself and lit it while he kept talking.
"You
may be right. Kanan came home from work
one night a little over a month ago, upset.
A man had come to the restaurant and had been very – lewd – with
her." He looked up and seemed to be
making some decision. "You don't
appear shocked by that, but Kanan had lived a sheltered life, and I suppose I
had, too. The next day, I went to her
workplace with her, intending to speak to the man if he came back in. He did.
With several bodyguards, all carrying guns."
I
had a bad feeling about Hakkai's mystery guy.
"Whose heart is it?"
"King
Centipede's."
"Fuck!" King Centipede was the biggest mob boss in
the city, and at the center of an all-out mob war, if the papers were
right. The past few weeks his guys had
been turning up dead all over the city.
"So you need a fall guy."
I tried for cynical, but gave him bitter instead.
"No. Gojyo, no." He laid those pretty eyes on me, and, fool
that I was, I was ready to believe him, no matter what my sense of
self-preservation was screaming in the background. "I plan to turn myself in. I just need… I need time. There's one last thing I've got to do. You were the only person I could think of who
might help me."
"Wait
a second. You said that this guy came
after your sister a month ago. So when
was she killed? I mean, I saw her just
the other day, when I was coming in—"
"That
wasn't Kanan."
Suddenly
it hit me like a sledgehammer. "She
was dead before you moved in here, wasn't she?"
"Yes."
Shit. There were never two people upstairs. Just him.
"Then why the hell did you think I'd help you? The most I ever did was to pick up your purse
for you and hold the door open!"
"It's
more than anyone else has ever done for me." He closed his eyes. "You're right, though. I hadn't thought it through. I don't want to place you in danger."
"It's
dangerous crossing the street or sinking your last solid before the other
guy." I took a risk. "Look, it's a good story. Maybe the police will believe it, even. But I know better. You said you're an accountant. For which mob?"
Hakkai
looked up, a startled expression on his face.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Which
mob are you working for?"
"None
of them. This truly is revenge for my
sister's murder."
That
made no sense. "Then how the hell
did you get into King Centipede's hideout?
With the other mobs going after him, I figure he must have been sealed
up as tight as
"You
saw how I got in. He thought – he
thought I was Kanan's twin sister, coming to blackmail him. I knew he'd think that was amusing enough to
let his guard down." Hakkai pushed
his coffee cup away and folded his hands in front of him, looking down at them
as if they were somebody else's.
"And there is no mob war."
"You
haven't been reading the papers lately, then.
His boys have been getting picked off all over town the past month or
so."
He
raised his gaze to mine, the expression in his eyes sharp and bright. "There is no mob war," he repeated,
in a voice as low and flat as death.
Fuck. "You?"
Hakkai
nodded.
"That's
insane." Who the fuck was this
guy? "You mean to tell me, you're
the one who's been killing off the King's gang?"
"Yes."
"Shit." I stood up and started to pace, running a
hand through my hair. It was getting
long. Banri's favorite saying came to mind:
make sure you leave a pretty corpse. I barked
out a sharp laugh. Yeah, I better stop
at a barber's before they killed me.
I
stopped in front of Hakkai. "You
know how dead we are?"
"There's
no one left to hurt us," Hakkai said.
"I made sure of it."
"Who
the fuck are you?"
His
voice was quiet. "A brother. Mourning his sister."
"You're
a fucking looney-tune!" I slumped
into my chair and buried my head in my hands.
"I've got fucking King Centipede's heart in my fucking icebox. Shit!"
He
didn't say anything for a long time, while I tried to wrap my head around the
deep shit I was in. I nearly forgot he
was there until he spoke.
"Have
you ever loved someone, Gojyo?"
I
sighed. The guy might be nuts, but he
seemed honest. "Maybe. Once.
But probably not."
"Was
she pretty?"
Ha. The bastard wasn't the only one who could
pack a jolt. "No. He didn't have any
eyebrows." I raised my head to
watch his reaction.
"Oh." Hakkai looked surprised, but not
disgusted. "Thank you," he
added, looking back at me, his eyes thoughtful.
"For
what?"
"For
telling me the truth." He smiled a
little. "I suppose it should shock
me."
"Doesn't
it?"
Hakkai
shook his head slowly. "I'm sure
you'll find him, someday. You've got a
good heart, Gojyo."
I didn't
know if he meant that good-for-nothing Banri or someone else, and I didn't ask,
just nodded. Hakkai seemed to be just
the sort of romantic fool who'd never understand that you couldn't find love if
you don't know what it is.
"I
loved her." A speculating look
settled on his face: not like he was trying to pull one over on me, but like he
wasn't sure if I could handle what he was about to say. "Like a lover."
Christ. The day was full of fucking surprises. "You got me beat there. Though the Bible-thumper down the street
would tell us we're both going to Hell, so it's hard to say one's worse than
the other."
Hakkai
smiled. Damn, he was pretty when he did
that. I couldn't help but grin back.
I
suddenly remembered looking out the window the night before. "Speaking of the preacher-man, he was
talking to the cops after they left last night.
He pointed here, but the cops didn't come back. Do you know him?"
Hakkai
shook his head. "Perhaps he's the
person who told the police that he'd seen me come in here."
"What's
your plan?"
He
glanced at the front door, like it had the answers. "There's still something I have to
do. Tonight."
I
sighed. "Stay. At least for the day."
"Gojyo,
I can't– "
"What's
done is done," I interrupted.
"It doesn't matter if you leave now or not. If they find out you were here, I'm in the
slammer either way. Besides," I
grinned, "you kept me from going out last night to hustle some pool. The least you can do is let me beat you at
poker. I've gotta make rent, you
know."
********
I
spent the entire day smoking, drinking coffee, and being annoyed by Hakkai's
knack for poker. I'm good – I've used it
a few times to make some money, though pool's my real game – but he was better. And it's not just that he was better at
bluffing. It seemed like the cards were
in love with him, like all he had to do was to touch them with those slender
fingers and undress them with his emerald eyes and they'd do whatever the hell
he wanted them to do, just to keep his attention.
I threw
down my losing hand. A full house, damn
it.
He
had a straight. And just to rub my nose
in it, a fucking royal flush.
"You
should go pro." I started
sprinkling tobacco on a paper.
"Ahaha!" Hakkai gathered up the cards. "I'm afraid I've always had that kind of
luck. Though it doesn't hurt to remember
where the cards are," he added, his eyes wicked.
I
nearly snorted the tobacco off the paper as I started to roll it. "Never let the guys in the gambling
joints know that you watch the cards like that."
Hakkai
sobered. "You're right, of
course," he said, his voice quiet.
"You lead a dangerous life, Gojyo."
I
finished licking the paper and sealing the cigarette before I smirked. "Doesn't hold a candle to yours,
cupcake." I lit the cigarette and
let the sweet smoke do its work.
He
glanced at the clock. It was
"I'm
not stopping you." I blew out a
stream of smoke. "But are you going
out wearing my robe?"
"Haha. No, I suppose not." Hakkai looked at me and I sighed.
"Right. Raid the wardrobe."
"Thank
you."
He
came out a few minutes later, wearing some of my old clothes. Funny.
He wasn't much shorter than me, but because I'm all leg and shoulders,
he still looked like a woman dressing in her husband's clothes, the trousers
and sleeves cuffed neatly to a length that wouldn't get in his way. He was holding an older pair of my shoes in
one hand.
"Do
you have any newspaper? They're a bit
big."
I
couldn't help it. I started laughing. "There's one that's a couple of days old
over there by the radio. Help
yourself." I tucked my shirt into
my trousers and pulled my suspenders up.
By the time he was finished putting the shoes on, I had my suit jacket
and hat on. I held a cap out to
him. "None of my jackets will work
on you, but maybe if you use this cap, people will think you're a dock-worker
or something."
He
put on the cap. "Why are you
dressed to go out?"
"I'm
coming with you."
"Gojyo,
no. I can't let you put yourself in any
more danger."
I
patted down my pockets to make sure I had some money and a few smokes. "According to you, there aren't any mob
guys left to make trouble."
"There
are the police."
"The
cops will be looking for a woman in a velvet dress. Ready?"
Hakkai
stared at me a moment longer and then went to the icebox and took out a paper
bag. "Yes."
I
had no idea when he'd bagged up the towel, but obviously he'd been thinking
ahead. So had I. I patted my pocket again, to make sure that
the gun I'd taken from him last night was still there. Then I held the front door open and we left.
I
wondered if I'd ever see my rooms again.
Not the sentimental kind of wondering – the place was a pigsty – but the
kind of fatalism that falls over a guy who's about to do something that will
make or break him. It didn't help to
know that the man walking so calmly by my side might be the one to do me
in. There was something about him that let
me know he was on a hair-trigger, and I had the feeling that when he snapped,
he'd snap big time.
Though
I supposed there were worse things than looking into those green eyes as I
gasped my last breath.
Outside,
the air was chilly enough to make me hunch my shoulders in my jacket, though
Hakkai didn't seem to feel the cold at all.
It was too late for the streetcars to be running and I didn't have the
dough for a cab, so we walked, which warmed me up. I kept close to Hakkai, smoking and thinking.
He
was as focused and intent as if I wasn't there.
Yeah,
he was dangerous. Shit, yeah. And yeah, he was the kind of guy who would
break hearts without even knowing it, mainly because I suspected his heart was
locked up tighter than a debutante's knickers.
But something about him made me trust him.
Funny,
how things work out. There I was,
walking beside probably the most dangerous man I'd ever known, someone I'd
never even met until the day before, someone who was carrying somebody
else's heart in a paper bag, and I trusted him. I'd walked beside Banri for years, a man who
had taken me off the street and taught me how to hustle and showed me what it
felt like to have a man's dick up my ass, someone who had picked me up when I
was in the gutter and who would toss a cloth at me when I was puking my guts
out after a bad bender, yet I'd never felt any trust whatsoever for him. There was just an empty "I told you
so" that my head told my stupid, delusional heart after he left me to
chase after a mobster doll with fur coats and diamonds and fucking huge
knockers.
Of
course, I'd known Banri was a bastard from the first time I'd seen him. I hadn't found out that Hakkai was a bastard
until the morning after I'd put him to bed thinking he was a damsel in
distress.
Ha. Hakkai wasn't any sort of damsel in
distress. He was every kind of mixed-up
crazy badness that haunted a guy's nightmares after he'd drunk too much. The fact that I felt comfortable around him
let me know just how crazy mixed-up I was, too.
I pulled out another cigarette and lit it, and grinned when Hakkai
glanced over at me and smiled.
Yeah,
I was fucked.
The
further we went, the more the back of my neck started to itch. I glanced over my shoulder from time to time,
but I didn't see anyone. The part of
town we were walking through wasn't exactly the Champs-Elysées at the best of
times; at
It
wasn't until we reached the gates that I realized where Hakkai had led us. We were at the fucking pauper's
graveyard.
Shit. This must be where they'd buried Hakkai's
sister.
Poor
bastard.
He
glanced over at me and I nodded to let him know that I understood, and it was
okay. He smiled, just a little one, then
lifted the latch on the gates.
"Hold
it. Hands up, nice and slow. If either of you moves, the redhead gets
it."
I
raised my hands. Hakkai did too, after a
moment. I heard someone come up from
behind and then a hand was patting down my clothes. The guy pulled the gun out of my pocket and
cuffed my hands behind my back before he turned his attention to Hakkai.
"Put
the bag down."
Hakkai
stiffened. "No."
The
guy suddenly shoved me and I fell on my ass.
I looked up to see the barrel of a .38 Special shoved in my face. I caught my breath and glanced at the guy
holding it.
It
was the creep wearing the fedora from the night before. "He's been watching us," I said to
Hakkai. "I saw him last night on
the street."
"Sam
Spode, FBI," the guy said.
"Now put the bag down, or Red here gets it."
"A
fucking G-man?" I stared at
him in disbelief. "What's going on
here?"
"I
don't know," Hakkai said. "And
I'm very sorry, Mr. Spode, but I'm not putting the bag down."
Spode
eased the hammer back.
"There's
nothing in the fucking bag that he can use as a weapon, all right?" I
snapped.
"Gojyo
is right," Hakkai said. "But
it's very important." He hesitated,
his tongue flickering across his lips.
"I need to finish something.
I won't harm anyone else, and I'll come in quietly and confess to
everything I've done. Just, please, let
me do this one last task."
I
had a pretty good idea of what Hakkai was planning to do. "He means it," I said to
Spode. "Take me along as a
guarantee if you want, but he'll do what he says. Just – just give him a few minutes, all
right?"
"Why
should I believe that holding you would make him keep his promise?"
"Holding
me won't make him do a damned thing," I said. "But he gave you his word, and he's
someone who does what he says he'll do.
Besides, if he makes a run for it, you still have me to take in. I'm not going anywhere with this jewelery on
me."
Spode
cursed, then leaned down and yanked me to my feet again. "Five minutes," he said. "And I'm coming with you."
Hakkai
lowered his hands. "Thank
you." He looked at me, but his
words were for Spode. "He hasn't
done anything. Don't hold him responsible
for my actions."
The
damned romantic, naive ass. No matter
what he said, I was headed for a federal pen for aiding and abetting a
criminal. I'd be lucky if I didn't get
framed for some of the murders myself, just so that they could throw away the
key.
Still,
it meant something that he said it.
"Thanks."
Hakkai
smiled at me and something inside twisted.
God, he was beautiful.
"Four
minutes, ladies," Spode snapped.
Without
another word, Hakkai turned away and opened the gates, and we entered the
cemetery.
I'm
not superstitious… oh, hell, who am I trying to fool? Shivers were running up and down my spine as
he led us through the graveyard. Spode's
hand gripped my arm like a vise, but in a strange way I appreciated it, because
it was hard to see in the dark and I kept tripping over the little flat grave
markers buried in the earth. With my
hands cuffed like that, I'd have fallen on my face a half-dozen times.
The
smell of fresh dirt got stronger, until Hakkai knelt in front of a low mound of
earth, still uncovered by grass or a marker.
There were another couple of mounds of dirt past the one that Hakkai
chose, and I wondered how he knew this particular one was her grave. Beyond the other two fresh mounds lay a
gaping pit.
I
shivered again. An open grave, waiting
to be filled.
Spode
and I watched as Hakkai opened the bag and pulled out the towel. I elbowed Spode in the ribs.
"Hey,
G-man," I whispered. "Take my
damned hat off for me, would you?"
He
glared at me, but took off my hat and dropped it on the ground. Then he took off his fedora and held it at
his side. I felt better for the little
bit of respect we gave her, lying there cold and alone in the ground like
that. She should have had better than a
pauper's grave, and Hakkai all alone with his anger and despair.
Hakkai
unwrapped the towel, tugging a bit where it stuck to the thing inside. I heard Spode draw in a harsh breath as he
realized what it was.
"I'm
sorry, Kanan," Hakkai said.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't get there in time. But I brought you this. I knew you'd want it." He laid King Centipede's heart on the mound.
Beside
me, Spode suddenly gave a kind of grunt and fell to the ground. Before I could turn, I felt an arm around my
neck and the cold muzzle of a gun jammed into the back of my skull. Shit.
I was going to die in a fucking pauper's graveyard. I knew that damned open grave had meant
something.
"Hakkai
Cho," a voice said in my ear. The
arm tightened and I choked as Hakkai whirled and stood.
"Let
him go."
"I
don't think so." The guy's voice
purred in my ear. "He's quite the
pretty thing, isn't he?"
"Fuck
off, bastard," I managed to say. If
I was going to die, I wanted to go out with some kind of fight, and I couldn't
do much else with my hands behind my back and him choking me.
"Your
business is with me," Hakkai said.
"And
I think this one is your business," the man replied. "You took my family from me. It seems only fair that I take him from you,
no?" The gun slid from the back of my
skull to my cheek, where it rested.
"A little at a time, just like you did to me."
The
gun roared in my ear and I shouted as white-hot pain engulfed the side of my
face. My knees buckled from the shock of
it, but the bastard didn't relax his grip around my throat, so I forced my legs
to hold me up so I wouldn't choke to death for real. His grip loosened, just a bit, but enough
that I could catch my breath.
"Fuck!" I shouted.
"You'll make me go God-damned deaf, you crazy
bastard!" I looked over at Hakkai,
who was white as a sheet, and felt blood trickling down my face. "How bad is it?" I demanded. "And who's this crazy fucker?"
"It's
a… a crease," Hakkai said. "On
your cheek."
"You
can call me Retribution," the guy said.
The gun stroked the crease and the pain flared.
"He's
King Centipede's son," Hakkai said.
"I only ever heard them call him 'the Fortune Teller'."
"You
killed how many of my father's men?
Thirty? Fifty? It seems I have some more payback that I owe
you," the Fortune Teller said.
I
barely had time to brace myself when the gun went off again. My legs did crumple this time, pain roaring
through my face and my ear deaf and ringing.
The Fortune Teller knelt with me as I fell, his arm tightening hard
around my throat again.
God,
I was sick of being a fucking hostage! I
braced myself and shoved backwards as hard as I could. The gun roared again and this time, I knew
I'd bought it because my chest exploded and everything went black as I fought
to remain conscious. I was aware of the
Fortune Teller trying to push me away, then Hakkai was there.
There
was a sound like a branch breaking, then I felt hands pulling me up. I struggled against them as best as I could.
"…-jyo,
Gojyo, it's all right, it's me."
I
stopped fighting. "Hakkai?"
"Yes." I felt him press something to my shoulder and
I hissed with pain. "You're badly
hurt."
"Did
you get that Fortune Teller bastard?"
"You
don't need to worry about him anymore."
I
glanced to the side. So that's what the asshole
looked like, all twisted and rat-faced and gray. His neck was bent at an impossible
angle. I tried to sit up but the world
swam around me and I slumped back again.
"Don't move, Gojyo. You've lost
quite a bit of blood already."
He
was right. I wasn't going anywhere. I closed my eyes. "Is the Fed dead?"
"No." I heard Hakkai moving around, then he was
back, his hand on my forehead. "I'm
going for help."
"Hakkai." I opened my eyes. He was bent over me, looking down at me with
those gorgeous eyes of his. I couldn't
see the green in the darkness, but I could imagine it. "Go.
Run. Spode can take care of me
when he wakes up. Just get going, while
you have the chance."
He
hesitated.
Spode
stirred next to me.
"Go. Run!"
Hakkai
stood, still staring down at me.
"Do
you think I doctored you up last night just to see you go to the pen? Or worse yet, the chair?" I said, my
voice hoarse and cracking. "Get
going, you stupid bastard!"
He
backed up a couple of steps.
"Stop
where you are." Spode was sitting
up. He had a hand pressed to the back of
his head. "And give me my
God-damned gun back."
Hakkai
looked down at the gun in his hand, then slowly pointed it at Spode. "Help him," he said.
Spode
barely glanced at me. "If the idiot
dies from a gunshot wound to the shoulder, it's because he's weak," he
said dismissively.
"Fuck
you," I snapped at him. I tried
once more to push myself into a sitting position, this time using my good
arm. "Get out of here,
Hakkai!"
There
was an explosion of movement from behind Hakkai. He started to turn, then suddenly he was
flying through the air, Spode's gun spinning in the opposite direction. He landed next to his sister's grave, but a
second later he was on his feet and crouched like a fighter.
A
scrawny runt in a suit and fedora that matched Spode's was grinning like a
madman, equally ready to fight.
"Should I take him down, Spode?"
"Tch. Don't bother." Spode stood and retrieved his gun, putting it
in a holster inside his trench. He
picked up his hat and brushed the leaves and dirt from it before putting it
back on his head. "Let him
go."
"What?"
I asked, not getting it at all.
Spode
glared at me. "He saved me the
trouble of cleaning up this gang. He
saved the government a hell of a lot of money that would have been spent on a
bunch of useless trials with juries that would have been bought off or
murdered. All in all, I'd rather save
the state the expense of the electricity that they'd use to fry him when he's
convicted."
"Shit." I looked over at Hakkai. "I'm surrounded by lunatics."
Hakkai
got up and walked over to kneel by my side.
He had a pretty good-sized shiner starting from where the crazy kid had
hit him. "Thank you," he said,
turning to Spode.
Spode
grunted and tossed him something.
"Give me back my bracelets, would you?"
Hakkai
smiled a little. "All right,"
he said. He pulled me up until I was
draped over his shoulder, then unlocked the handcuffs with the keys Spode had
tossed him. I immediately went to rub my
wrists, and nearly passed out from the pain in my shoulder when I moved.
"Can
you help me get him back to the boarding house?" Hakkai asked, cradling me
with one arm as he rubbed one of my wrists soothingly.
"I'll
get the car," the other Fed said brightly, then bounded away.
"Don't
fucking drive it over the graves!" Spode shouted after him. He turned back to Hakkai. "We'll drive you back so you can patch
the idiot up. But once I've got this
mess cleaned up, expect a visit from me.
I need to get some information from you."
"I
understand." I felt Hakkai's arm
tighten around me. "I'll be
waiting."
Then
he tried to lift me up and everything went black.
*******
The
Fed gave us a ride back to the boarding house.
He didn't bother to offer to help us get upstairs to my fucking rooms,
just dropped us off at the curb.
Prick. His partner rubbed salt in the wound,
dangling like a monkey out the sedan window and waving at us as they drove
away.
Hakkai
pretty much dragged me inside. Kanny,
the old puss, came out of her rooms, saying something about me needing some
spice in my life, while Moustaches Man, who'd stumbled out after her dressed in
one of her lacy robes, looked horrified.
The blood, I suppose. The noise
brought down the Prince, followed by his consort, who took one look at me and
scooped me up like some kind of princess, carrying me up both flights of stairs
and waiting for Hakkai to open the door before depositing me in my chair at the
kitchen table. He helped Hakkai pull my
clothes off, too, the Prince supporting me because I was weaving like a drunk
every time they tugged, then, once I was stripped down to my shorts and
undershirt, they left.
The
big guy gave me a wink as he closed the door behind them.
*******
And
that's how I got where I'm at, sitting in my skivvies at my table with a bullet
hole in my shoulder and an unrealistic hope in my heart, while Hakkai's
bandaging both.
"He
drilled me good." I can't move the
fucking shoulder without things going grey around the edges, so I keep still
and let him deal with things.
"I'm
afraid that the bullet scores on your cheek might leave scars."
"What
about your eye?"
"It
just needs a beefsteak. You can help me
with it once we've got you bandaged up." Hakkai rips the spare set of sheets into
strips and starts to wrap them around my shoulder and arm. With this damned hole in me I'm going to have
a hard time hustling the tables for money to replace the sheets before the
landlady finds out, but I don't care.
"Oh,
Gojyo," Hakkai whispers. He ties
the bandage and smoothes his hand over it, his touch soft. Then he bends forward and brushes his lips
across my collarbone, right next to where the bandage stops.
I
swallow hard and freeze.
"You're
so beautiful," he whispers next.
His lips are warm against my neck and he shifts closer.
Christ. Like he has to pay me back. "Hakkai, you don't need to– "
He
puts his fingers across my lips.
"You're so beautiful," he repeats.
Then
we're kissing.
Hakkai
tastes of coffee and cinnamon, bitter and spicy and warm all at once, his
tongue sliding against mine, and all I can think about is that wet heat around
my dick except that he tastes too good to stop kissing long enough to push him
down there. Without breaking our kiss,
he crawls into my lap and cups my chin in one hand, tilting my head up and
pressing close, and my dick feels like an iron rod in my shorts, pressed
against his ass. He reaches down and
rubs me, not letting go of my face or my mouth, until I'm moaning and I can't
stop my hips from thrusting up against his clever, deadly fingers.
"Hakkai,
don't," I whisper into his mouth.
"No pity fucks."
"I
want you, Gojyo," he murmured back.
"Feel me."
I
slide one hand up from where they're glued to his ass – when they got there, I
haven't got the foggiest – and grope his crotch.
He's
as fucking hard as I am.
Then
he shifts and accidentally bumps my shoulder, and I see stars.
I
must have passed out for a minute or two, because I don't remember how we got
to the bedroom, but we're here and he's taking what's left of my clothes off,
laying me out just like I laid him out last night, when I thought he was his
sister. "This is just too fucked
up."
"Sshhh." He undresses, and it's the first time that I've
seen his whole body, not just face or hands or stomach or dick. He's slim and pasty white, with a long, slim
dick that's already glistening with pre-come and bobbing against his stomach. His legs are darker; he must have used that
stuff that women use now that nylons are so hard to find, even on the black
market.
Other
than his head and groin, though, he's smooth.
I reach out and touch his skin.
It's soft and fine. "You're
gorgeous," I say. "Come
here. I want to taste you."
"Lie
back. I don't want to hurt your shoulder
again." Hakkai straddles me on the
bed, carefully inching up my chest until his dick rubs against my lips.
I
open my mouth and let him in until my nose is buried in his curls and all I can
smell is his heat and desire for me.
He
fucks my mouth gently, doing all the work, while I suck and whirl my tongue
around his hot, hot dick. God, I've
missed this. Banri always topped,
always, and it was good, but to me, sex never gets better than when I have a
man's hard dick in my mouth and I can look up to see his face and chest flushed
with heat and know that I'm the one making him feel like that.
This
time when I look up, Hakkai's looking down at me, and the expression on his face
is so possessive and tender that my heart falters in my chest.
Oh,
fuck. No. Not now.
I can't be stupid enough to fall in love with a fucking mass murderer.
Then
he slides in deeper and I don't care if he's Pretty Boy Floyd, I just know that
I want to taste his spunk so bad it hurts.
I suck hard and moan around his dick and he pulls out.
"I
want to be in you," he says. His
chest moves with his heavy breathing.
"Gojyo, please."
I
nod and turn carefully until I'm lying on my good side. No way can he fuck me from the front – too
much for my shoulder – but he gets the idea quick enough and slips behind me.
"I
don't want to hurt you."
"There's
lotion in the nightstand." I hear
him open the drawer, then a few seconds later I feel his finger smearing cold
liquid across my asshole. He doesn't
bother sticking his finger in – maybe he doesn't know to do it – but I don't
care. I want to feel the burn when he
pushes in.
And
I do. Oh, Christ, it's been so long, and
it hurts, but then he's pressed hot against my back, breathing heavy in my ear,
and he's kissing my neck and throat as I feel his hips start to move.
"Oh,
God. Gojyo."
"Fuck
me. C'mon. Fuck me."
He
leans his head between my shoulder blades.
"We're going slowly," he says.
"I won't cause you any more pain.
Not ever," and it sounds like a vow, he says it so fiercely, and
then he's moving with slow, smooth strokes.
The burn in my ass starts feeling good, not bad, and I push back against
his thrusts as much as I can.
I
can't reach my cock because my good arm's bracing me, but suddenly I feel a
cold, slippery hand close around my dick and start slowly pumping it, while he
drives his dick in deep and pulls out easy, only to push in deep again.
"Christ,
you're killing me," I moan.
He
laughs and kisses the nape of my neck, then tightens his grip on my dick. Oh, God, it feels so good. He feels so good, so good in me, so
good plastered against the length of my body, so good tight around my
cock. Banri was all about the rough sex
– "save the romance for the ladies," he'd say, pounding hard into my
ass – but this, this almost hurts more, because Hakkai's not just
fucking my body, he's loving me, too.
I
start breathing hard, as I feel the heat build inside, my feet burning first, before
the flames begin to lick up my legs and center in my balls and dick.
"Hakkai. Oh, God, keep going. Keep going.
I'm gonna come– " He moves a
little faster. His hand's so fucking hot
and slick, better than pussy because it's so tight, and I can feel my balls
start to scrunch up. God, so close…
"Do
it, Gojyo. Come for me," he
whispers into my ear, then bites it, and just like that I'm coming so hard that
everything goes black and I can hear myself saying stupid things like, 'love
you' and 'God' and 'never stop fucking me' while I jerk and thrust into his
hot, slippery hand and feel his teeth and hear his panting breath in my ear,
and oh, God, it's never been so good and I never want it to end, I want to keep
coming until the fucking world ends, as long as this man's cock is inside me.
I
collapse, limp, and he lets go of my softening dick and slips his arm around my
chest, holding me up and snapping his hips forward once, twice, then I feel him
stiffen behind me and he lets go of my ear with his teeth, only to moan my name
as he gives twitchy little thrusts against me, emptying his load deep inside.
When
he's finished, somehow he manages to support both of us, wiping my ass with the
top sheet and then pushing it off the bed and laying me down so gentle, until
I'm cushioned by the pillow and his warm body behind me. He pulls the blanket over us and kisses my
neck.
"I
won't leave you," he whispers. He
pulls me closer. "You're mine,
Gojyo. I take care of what's mine."
Right. So, what does that mean? If I get killed by some loser after hustling
his money, is Hakkai gonna go out and start murdering pool marks until he gets
the right one?
Maybe. The thought makes me grin, even as it
terrifies the shit out of me.
His
breath evens out and he's fully relaxed against me. Damn.
I'm such a sucker for a pretty face.
God knows, whether Hakkai stays with me or not, I'm probably in for a
hell of a ride while he's here, given what's happened the last couple of
nights. Trouble with a capital 'T', for
sure.
He's
not just a pretty face and jewelled eyes, though. He's good in a pinch, and smart, and loyal,
judging by how he avenged his sister.
I've never been around a person who's got all that going for him. It's kind of nice.
It
suddenly hits me that the shoulder wound doesn't hurt half as bad as the one to
my heart will one day. Because there's
no such thing as happily-ever-after.
Things just don't work out that way.
But
I'll take what I can get for as long as I can get it. And if he makes a mess of my heart someday,
well, it's a pretty messed up organ to begin with.
But
I think, maybe, I might have a little better idea what people mean when they
talk about love.
~fin~
Nouvellebrielle's
request: "Hakkai/Gojyo (or whichever
you prefer if the story contains smut, which isn't necessary but is most
welcome), Film Noir AU. With Hakkai in a black velvet dress, for some reason or
another. And I'm not sure if it's possible to love you any more than I already
do, but I will certainly try if somewhere in there, you include a fedora."
|
_____________ |