Part Five

Deena


Yohji frowned at the little piece of pink-clad fluff Ken was dancing with. The twit looked like she had the IQ of a turnip, all giggly and frosted-pink glitter-eyed as she gazed up at Ken. How much pink could one person wear anyways? It was nauseating.

He wondered why Ken was dancing with a simpering fool like her in the first place. Ken hated to dance and was insecure when it came to girls. Was he doing it to prove a point? And if so, why not choose a better girl? The pink girl practically screamed stupid teenybopper.

Well whatever. She could leech onto Ken and dance the whole night away with him but she wasn't going to be the one who'd leave with him at the end of the night. That'd be his job.

He smirked as he made his way to the bar. Kudou Yohji was gonna get some tonight and wasn't it gonna be the sweetest piece of ass ever!

"What'll it be?" the bartender drawled out above the noise as he slid into the high stool.

"Scotch on the rocks."

He lit a cigarette and kept an eye on Ken. The soccer player looked stiff, what with the bippy girl draped all over him. Surprisingly though, Ken didn't look nervous. He was chatting away, even if his dancing was awkward. Well perhaps he felt comfortable conversing with lower life forms.

It wasn't long before a tall blond who was in danger of popping out of her skimpy tank top began flirting with Yohji.

"Why don't we find some place a little more...private?" she purred, nibbling on the tip of her finger sensuously.

"I'm already here with someone," he told her curtly.

She followed his gaze. "Forget that little bip and lemme show you what a real woman can do."

"The bip isn't my date," he muttered wryly.

Silver-lined eyes widened. "Well shit." She studied Ken. "How about you bring him along? That boy is hot!"

Yohji snorted. Ken prolly didn't even how a threesome worked. "I don't think so. He's too green for something like that."

"I don't mind watching."

He smirked. "Forget it."

Wine-glossed lips slid into a pout. "Too bad. Well do ya wanna dance?"

He shook his head and finishing the rest of his scotch. The song had ended and twitty girl was leading Ken off the dance floor towards the sitting area. "Not this time. My boy's done."

"Well if you change your mind..." she let the invitation hang in the air.

"I'll come and find you," he finished. "See ya."

Ken and the pink girl were now sitting at one of the tiny, round tables to the right of the dance floor. She was sitting very close to Ken, her hair falling over his arm. Yohji decided that he didn't like that. Long strides took him to their table.

"Do you mind?" he demanded, annoyed. "Me and him," he jabbed a long finger in Ken's direction, "have important business to discuss."

To his surprise, the girl stood up and winked. "I'll bet you do," she said slyly. She waved at Ken. "Ja ne, Ken kun!"

Yohji slid down into the previously occupied seat and watched the girl sashay away. Dumb teenybopper.

Ken beamed at him, his eyes appearing unnaturally bright. "Hi Yohji!"

"Who the frig was that?!"

Ken's forehead wrinkled in fierce concentration. "Um...it was Meiko san, I think. No wait, Maki san. Or maybe it's Miki san? Hmm...I dun really know. I think I forget."

Yohji grunted. Maybe they weren't as close as he'd formerly thought. "It doesn't matter." He leaned close to Ken and asked in a quiet whisper, "Did you find the target yet?"

"The...target?"

He blinked. Ken's breath was decidedly alcohol-tinged. "Have you been drinking Ken?" he questioned suspiciously.

Ken looked crestfallen. "Was I not supposed to?"

He sighed. Ken under the influence of alcohol was a complication that the mission didn't need. "What did you have?"

The soccer player thought hard, scratching at his colored hair. "It was something pink," he said finally. "With a cherry in it and sugar around the rim. The sugar made my hands really sticky." He held up said sticky fingers.

"Pink. It figures," he muttered wryly. He studied Ken. The younger boy didn't look that drunk. His words weren't slurred and his balance seemed fine. If anything, he was in a better mood, the alcohol having eased his nervousness. "How many drinks did you have Ken?"

Ken scrunched his face up in intense concentration. "Um...I think it was...more than none but less than twenty-five." He grinned widely at Yohji.

Then again, maybe he was out of it. Yohji held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Is that a trick question?"

Yohji groaned. "Just fucking great."

Ken laughed at him. "I'm just kidding Yohji! You need to relax!"

He stared at the brunette. Ken was telling him to relax? Ken the tight-ass, scared-shitless, whiner was telling him to relax? Well hadn't the tables turned. He leered, intending to find out just how far Ken was willing to relax.

"Oh I'll relax Kenken," he murmured thickly, reaching out to run his finger across Ken's mouth. To his immense surprise, Ken parted his lips and his finger slid in deeper, across wet flesh.

Ken groaned softly, his tongue darting out to snake around Yohji's finger. "Feelths gooth," he lisped around the invading digit.

Yohji had to agree. He curved his other hand around Ken's waist, bringing the smaller boy closer to him. His lips found the soccer player's smooth neck and he promptly set about giving him the hickey of a lifetime.

"Uhh," Ken grunted as Yohji sucked and gnawed at his neck.

This felt illegally sexy. Who knew that Ken would be so good with his mouth? His soaking mouth was curved tightly around his finger, squeezing it with his lips and stroking it with his tongue. Yohji had a feeling that if Ken stayed like this, tonight was going to be fucking amazing. Especially if Ken gave him a blowjob. Yum.

He bit Ken, smirking at the throaty cry it provoked from the younger boy.

Suddenly Ken shoved him away. "Target," his gasped, his pupils dilated.

"Huh?" Yohji was distracted by saliva-coated, parted lips. They were moving but Yohji wasn't listening. He grabbed Ken's chin, hauling him roughly towards him.

"Yohj-mmphh!"

He shoved his mouth on Ken, cramming his tongue into the fleshy, wet cavern. Ken enthusiastically kissed him back, wasting no time in pushing his tongue against Yohji's.

"Fuck, I should get him to drink more often," Yohji thought as the soccer player kissed him back avidly. An assertive Ken was fucking hot!

Ken was moaning into his mouth as they slurped lustily at each other.

"Yoh~ji," he panted, licking at the corner of the older boy's mouth. "He's...there."

"Who?" he breathed, cupping Ken's face and pulling his closer.

Chocolate colored eyes fluttered shut, red lips opening. "The target."

"Oh him," he muttered, sliding his tongue into Ken's mouth. That wasn't important...the target... "Fuck!" he cried, jerking away from the soccer player as his words registered.

"That's what I...was trying...to tell you," Ken wheezed, huffing for air. He blushed slightly. "But you kept kissing me."

So he still blushed, even when drunk. How cute. "We'll finish this later," he promised, giving Ken a sultry look. "Now where is he?"

Ken scanned through the hordes of people and finally gestured to a tall, black haired man clad in a grey business. He was stalking through the crowds towards the entrance of the basement. "He kinda looks like Crawford without the glasses, don't ya think?"

Yohji studied the brunette. "Are you sure you can handle this Ken? How much alcohol did you have?"

"I told you I'm fine!" Ken insisted. "I can still kick some bad-guy ass! There wasn't even that much liquor in the pink stuff. Don't worry about me."

He frowned, not wanting to take any chances. "Alright," he said quietly. "You take care of the scientists. They're all unarmed and working in different labs downstairs so they won't be a problem. I'll handle Akizuki. When we're done, we'll meet in the bathroom at the end of the hall. The explosives are hidden in the ventilation duct above the sink. I'll set the timer for twenty minutes, you pull the fire alarm so that everyone will get out."

"Then by the time the buyers arrive, the labs will be totaled and Akizuki dead," Ken finished. He grinned. "Sounds good to me."

Yohji nodded, standing. "Let's go."


Yohji managed to catch up with Akizuki before he slipped downstairs into the laboratories. He stumbled into the business tycoon with the fakest of trips, spilling his recently acquired Bloody Mary all over the other man's pristine grey suit.

"Oh man I'm so sorry!" Yohji cried loudly over the music that was pumping away all too close. He moved away from dancing bodies and closer to Akizuki. "Are you okay?"

Akizuki scowled at him. "No, I am not okay," he seethed. "You've ruined my suit! This is an Armani you jackass!"

"Why are you wearing an Armani suit to a club?" he asked innocently. "You can't dance in a three-piece."

"This is only a two piece!"

Yohji tried not to laugh. "Alright, alright, calm down. Here, why don't I get some club soda? That usually gets stains out. I'll meet you in the bathroom, okay?" He pasted on his most concerned expression. "I just feel so bad! It's gonna be real hard for you to score with the ladies looking like," he gestured to the red mess soiling the man's blazer and white shirt, "Well, you know."

Akizuki studied him through narrowed eyes and then nodded stiffly. "Yes fine. You owe me afterall." He gestured to the huge bar at the back. "Behind the bar is my private office. There's a washroom in there."

Yohji widened his eyes in fake surprise. "Your office? Don't tell me you own this place!"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Now hurry up and get me some club soda. I've got important business to take care of."

Five minutes later, Yohji was walking up the spiraling staircase behind the bar, carrying a glass of club soda. At the top of the stairs was Akizuki's office.

"Nice office," he commented, looking around. The office had a great view of the club below.

"Just give me the damn drink," the man snapped. "I don't have time for small talk."

Yohji snorted, dropping the glass as his wire sprung out from his watch. "Unfortunately, neither do I." The thin expanse of metal cleaved through the air, coiling securely around the man's neck.

"What the fuck?" Akizuki wheezed out, his eyes bugging out.

"You aren't going to be selling anything tonight, Akizuki," Yohji promised, tightening his wire.

Blood gushed forth, splattering in thick streams upon the shiny linoleum floor. It only took a few seconds before the business man crumpled to the floor, a lifeless mass of bloody flesh.

"Too easy," he thought as the wire slid neatly back into place.

"You murdered the boss!"

Yohji froze at the sight of the very big, very muscular body guard.

Fuck.


Part 6   |   Fanfiction