Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2701775.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Saiyuki
  Relationship:
      Cho_Hakkai/Sha_Gojyo
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, Alternate_Universe_-_Prostitution
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-12-01 Words: 5665
****** Cut Out in Stars ******
by emungere
Summary
     Hakkai saves Gojyo from some assholes in an alley. Gojyo saves Hakkai
     from everything else.
Notes
     Thanks to Chrissy for the beta :)
When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.

Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
***
The funny thing about getting punched in the gut was, however bad you thought
it was going to hurt, it always hurt worse.
Gojyo bent double and coughed a little, trying to get his body to take in air
again. He sank to the ground and felt something damp and sticky seep into the
knees of his jeans. No time to be grossed out. If he didn't hit back, and now-
- But there was already a boot in his ribs and fuck, it was so hard to breathe.
He fell in slow motion. His palm was scraped raw as it skidded across the
ground in a vain attempt to catch himself. His shoulder hit hard, and his head
bounced off the concrete.
They were laughing. Pulling his hard-earned cash out of his pocket and
laughing. That almost pissed Gojyo off enough to get him to to his knees again,
but when he tried to move, someone stepped on his wrist.
"Surprised he's breathing after that kick. Jesus fuck, Chris, ease up. He's
down, okay?"
"Never trust a whore."
The weight left Gojyo's wrist, but another sharp kick glanced off his ribs.
Fabulous. Fantastic. He was thrilled by this turn of events. It was his goddamn
birthday, clearly. Hell, it might be. Mom had never been too good with dates.
"S'my birthday," he told the guy who'd kicked him. There was blood in his
mouth, and he felt a little dizzy.
"Yeah? Funny, looks like it's mine, too." The guy grabbed Gojyo's hair and
yanked him half-upright, other hand reaching for his fly. He unzipped it and
pulled out his cock.
"Chris, come on! This is just stupid, man. We gotta get out of here."
"Yeah, Chris," Gojyo mumbled. He swayed on his knees, caught between the
tension on his hair and the downward pull of gravity and unconsciousness.
"Great, he knows your name now. Will you--"
"I just want a little fucking fun before--"
Gojyo shook off the dizziness as best he could and slammed his palm upward into
Chris' groin.
There was a sudden pain in his his jaw, and then darkness. Someone screamed.
Amazingly, it wasn't him. He heard the wet sounds of someone wounded but still
breathing, and then silence.
"Hello," a voice said. "Are you very badly hurt?"
Cautiously, Gojyo opened his eyes. "I'm fine," he said. "Who are you?"
"Is that the sort of fine that requires a hospital, or merely the sort that
requires an ice pack?"
The guy spoke without looking at him, bending over to rifle through Chris and
his buddy's pockets. Both of them were lying very still.
"Ice pack," Gojyo said. Was that blood on the ground next to Chris's head? He
was pretty sure it was, and a lot of it. "Look, this may sound like a stupid
question, but did you just kill those guys?"
"Yes, I did."
"Oh. Okay." The next obvious question seemed to be, Are you going to kill me
too? but since the guy was handing Gojyo all his money back and then some, it
probably didn't apply. "Thanks."
"I didn't think that would be so easy," the guy said. He was standing still
now, outlined by the light coming from the mouth of the alley. He had a knife
in his hand, one of those folding ones with the replaceable blades. It had a
pink metal handle.
"You're pretty good with a knife, huh?" Gojyo wiped blood off his lip and
licked at the small cut there. He must've bitten it when Chris hit him.
"Apparently I am, yes."
The guy was just standing there. Orange light slanted across his face. He
looked young and a little lost. He was blinking down at the bodies of the two
men he'd killed like he wasn't sure how they'd gotten there.
"You okay?" Gojyo asked.
"I'm fine."
"Is that the kind of fine that gets you locked up in a psych ward for a few
years?"
The guy hesitated. "Very possibly."
Gojyo reached out, very slowly, and took the knife from his hand.
"You wanna try a beer first? It usually works for me."
"When you've murdered two strangers?"
"I try to only kill people I know."
"Ah," the guy said. "Very wise." He paused. "My name is Hakkai."
"Gojyo."
"It's very nice to meet you, Gojyo."
"Likewise," Gojyo said, though he thought surreal would've been a better word
for it.
"Alcohol does seem like a good idea. Perhaps I should call the police," he
added, as if it had just occurred to him.
Gojyo dragged himself back up to his knees and waited a second for the
dizziness to subside before trying to get his feet under him.
"The cops might not be such a hot idea," he said. "Those guys are, um. Pretty
dead." He was trying not to look too hard at the bodies since he'd realized it
wasn't just their throats that were cut.
"I see your point," Hakkai said. He was starting to look a little pale.
"Perhaps we could simply--leave."
"Yeah. Leaving gets my vote." He folded the knife shut and put it in his
pocket. He'd have to clean it and dump it somewhere, but hell, it was the least
he could do. Anyway, damned if he was letting Hakkai have it back.
"Do you need assistance?"
Gojyo would've liked to say no, but he'd also like to not fall on his ass, and
that was looking more and more likely.
"Yeah. Maybe a hand up wouldn't hurt. Thanks."
Hakkai bent down and put an arm around his waist. When he stood again, he
brought Gojyo up as well, with no apparent effort. Strong. Well, he'd have to
be, the way he took out those two. He was warm, too, which made Gojyo suddenly
aware that he was not. The temperature had fallen with the sun, and his clothes
were wet from the muck at the bottom of the alley.
"My car is close," Hakkai said. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the
hospital?"
"No money, no insurance."
"I can pay."
Gojyo just stared at him for a second. "What are you, nuts?"
Hakkai started them walking, out of the mouth of the alley and back into the
relatively cleaner air of the street.
"I have the money. It would be a shame if you died of a brain injury or
internal bleeding."
"Do you even know what hospitals cost?" Gojyo said, trying to ignore the part
about internal bleeding. His side felt like someone was jabbing an ice pick
into it with every step he took.
"I believe I have a fair idea." Hakkai nodded ahead of them. "That's my car.
We're almost there."
His car was a cherry red Ferrari. Maybe he did have enough money.
A minute later, sinking into the embrace of the leather seat, Gojyo felt
himself start to relax from the adrenaline overdrive he'd been running on since
the first punch. It'd happened so goddamn fast. Couldn't have been more than
ten minutes all told.
He glanced over at Hakkai and took in the set of his jaw and the tight clench
of his hands on the steering wheel. The needle on the speedometer was creeping
upwards. Good thing the streets were almost empty.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"I-- I don't know." Hakkai stopped accelerating, which was a good thing as far
as Gojyo was concerned. Just because his car could do 150 didn't mean that it
should. At least not in the middle of the city. "Where are we going?"
Gojyo thought fast. He could say his place, but that would look weird later if
the cops connected them to this. Hakkai should look like any other john, and
Gojyo never took his johns home. A hotel would be worse, the way he looked
right now. They would be remembered.
"Your place." He tried not to make it sound like a question.
"Ah. Of course," Hakkai said, like he invited hookers over every night of the
week.
Maybe he did. He must've been looking for something in that neighborhood at
this time of night. Whores or drugs, one or the other.
They turned onto Fifth and drove uptown through quiet streets. He was guessing
Hakkai lived somewhere up by the park. It was going to be a long drive.
"Do you really?" Hakkai asked.
"Huh?"
"Kill people you know."
"Oh. Uh. No, I never... I never killed anybody." He felt like he should
apologize for it, but managed not to.
Hakkai nodded. "That's good."
"Yeah." Are you okay? he just stopped himself from asking again.
"I think I'm going to throw up now," Hakkai said, a block later. He did,
pulling over and getting his door open just in time.
Gojyo leaned towards him, but the position was too awkward even to hold his
hair back. Hakkai did that himself, twisting it into a short ponytail with one
hand and bracing the other on the door. Gojyo started to pat his back and then
didn't.
"There's a bottle of water in the back behind my seat. Could you get it for me,
please?"
Gojyo fished in the dark, essentially non-existent back seat and came up with a
screw-top bottle of San Pelligrino. Jesus. He handed it over.
"Thank you." Hakkai rinsed his mouth out and spat, and then took a long pull
from the bottle. Gojyo could see the muscles of his throat working.
"Feel better?"
"Yes, I think so." Hakkai held the open bottle between his thighs and started
the car up again. "I don't know why I did that."
"I'm surprised you didn't do it sooner."
"Are you a prostitute?"
"What? Yes."
"I see."
"Sorry you saved me now?"
"Oh, no. I was just wondering, because of the semen on your cheek. And what
that man said, of course, but people don't always use the word whore
accurately."
Gojyo wiped his cheek, scratched at the crusty bit he found there. He realized
that he didn't need to ask if Hakkai was okay. He was definitely not okay.
"Well, I am. What do you do?"
"I'm a model."
"You're... Are you serious?" He was pretty enough, with his pale skin and dark
eyes. And it would explain where he got the cash for the car. But. Gojyo was
having problems with the part where a hot Ferrari-driving male model picked him
up in an alley and was taking him home. Like the fact that he was a model made
it that much more unbelievable. Right.
"Have you been to Times Square recently?"
"Huh? No. They don't actually have hookers there anymore, you know, since the
whole Disney thing."
"No, I meant because my billboard is there. Sometimes people don't believe me,
about being a model, and that's the easiest way to prove it."
"Oh," Gojyo said. Right, of course. His billboard. "It's okay. I believe you."
Hakkai nodded. "Do you think we should stop and get beer on the way? I don't
have any."
"Hell, yes." If there was ever a situation in his life that called for
drunkenness, this was it.
They stopped a few blocks later at a store called, if you believed its sign,
Cold Beer Tobacco. It was lit up with pink and green neon outside and
surprisingly clean inside, the tile floor polished to a mirror-sheen. Gojyo's
reflected face in it looked pale and confused, both of which he felt. He tried
not to look too closely at his injuries just yet.
One whole wall was lined with cut flowers for sale, and Hakkai picked out red
roses, red carnations, red daisy-looking-things, and red tulips. Gojyo got them
two six-packs of Sam Adams and tried not to be weirded out by Hakkai's color
choices. There were a lot of red things besides blood. Maybe they matched his
sofa or something.
"I.D. please," said the guy behind the desk.
Hakkai looked at Gojyo. Gojyo showed his I.D. and paid.
"How old are you?" he asked Hakkai, when they got back to the car.
"Almost eighteen."
"Which means seventeen. Seventeen. You're seventeen? Jesus fucking Christ! Are
your parents going to be there when we get to your place?"
"I've been an emancipated minor since I was fourteen. My parents passed away
two years ago in an accident. A car crash," he added, as though Gojyo might
have doubts.
"Right. Sorry," Gojyo said, though Hakkai didn't seem particularly upset about
it.
"It's all right. I didn't like them very much."
Gojyo didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing. The night rushed
past them in a flickering blur of streetlights and neon and sidewalks still wet
from the last rain. Shards of reflected light caught in the puddles.
By the time they made it to Hakkai's apartment building, it was raining again,
a soft patter on the umbrella the doorman held for Gojyo as he got out and
stepped under the awning. Hakkai handed over his keys, and they went inside.
Gojyo kept his head down. Hopefully, the doorman would remember the ripped
jeans and mesh tank he was wearing and not the mess his face was.
The elevator, all mirrors and brass, showed him details. Bloody lip, mud in his
hair, a spreading red-purple bruise on his cheekbone. He wouldn't be earning
much for a while. Anyone who'd want to fuck a face like that, he wouldn't want
anywhere near him.
Hakkai caught his eyes in the mirror and smiled.
He didn't have the penthouse, as Gojyo had half-expected. His apartment was
only average in size, living room, dining room, and kitchen all visible from
the front door. One wall was entirely lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, and
outside was a small balcony, and the vast, disconcerting darkness of Central
Park at night.
Gojyo walked over until he could leave fingerprints on the cool glass, until
his breath misted it, and he could see his own reflection again, too close. The
lights on the far side of the park looked like another city, somewhere far away
and magical. His mother's apartment was over there somewhere, one of those
distant lights.
"What are you looking for?" Hakkai asked, voice soft and much too close to
Gojyo's ear.
Gojyo suppressed a squeak of surprise and splayed his hand flat against the
glass as he jerked forward.
"Nothing! Nothing. Jeez, you wanna not creep up on a guy like that?"
"Oh." Hakkai stepped back. "I do apologize." He crossed his arms over his
stomach, fingers digging into his elbows, looking down.
"Hey. Sorry." Gojyo touched his shoulder, felt him flinch. "It's okay. Beer
time?"
Hakkai shook his head. "Your face. I'll get the first aid kit. Sit, please."
He pushed the flowers at Gojyo and disappeared. Gojyo clutched them to his
chest a little too hard and watched them shed red petals onto the white carpet.
The kitchen was also white. There was a white vase set out on the white marble
counter, next to the white range top and the white sink. Gojyo filled it with
water and checked the trash can. It was full of wilted red flowers. He set the
flowers in the vase and took it out to sit it on the dining room table--which
was also white.
Hakkai still wasn't back, and Gojyo stepped into the hall that led to the rest
of the apartment, intending to call him. He stopped as soon as he switched on
the hall light.
A good three feet of the wall, floor to ceiling, was full of tacked up sheets
of paper with cut out letters pasted to them. Gojyo only had to read one to get
the idea, but stray words from the others jerked his eyes from page to page--
naked--flaunting yourself--shameless--and over and over again, whore--whore--
whore.
"Love letters," said a soft voice behind him. "From a particularly devoted
fan."
"And you keep them?" Gojyo asked.
"My agent said I should, in case the police need them later."
Gojyo swallowed. "Right. Only, I don't think he meant on your wall. Don't
people think it's weird?"
"What people?"
"People you have over?"
"I don't have people over. Come on. I want to fix your face."
Gojyo let Hakkai lead him back to the living room and sit him on the couch. On
the (white granite) coffee table, Hakkai laid out alcohol, cotton balls,
Neosporin, bandages, thread, and a curved and deadly looking needle. Gojyo
hoped he wouldn't need that.
"Take your shirt off, please."
"Huh? Oh." Right. Kicked in the ribs. He took his shirt off and looked down.
There was another bruise forming, but no broken skin.
Hakkai passed a hand over the bruise, barely touching. "It hurts?"
"A lot. Yeah."
Hakkai nodded and wet a cotton ball with alcohol. He leaned close, hand poised
in front of Gojyo's face. "This will probably hurt as well. I'm sorry."
The alcohol was cold and wet and stung when it hit the abraded skin on Gojyo's
cheek. Hakkai sat on the coffee table, knee touching Gojyo's. Cotton ball by
filthy cotton ball, Gojyo's face came clean.
"There," Hakkai said, at last. He touched Gojyo's cheek and the corner of his
mouth where he'd wiped the dried blood away. "Done. You won't need stitches, I
don't think."
"Thanks."
Hakkai leaned closer, thumb still at the corner of Gojyo's mouth. He was
looking at that, rather than meeting Gojyo's eyes. "The bruises will be very
bad."
"I know."
Hakkai sat back. "Well. I suppose it's time for the beer."
"You're underage. I'm contributing to the delinquency of a minor. And stuff."
"Stuff?"
"I'm sure it's not the only law I'm breaking."
Hakkai nodded seriously. "You could be charged with conspiracy to commit
murder, for example."
"Yeah. Beer time. Seriously."
One beer later, he asked about the flowers.
"Why red?"
"Well," Hakkai said. He stopped for a moment, as if it hadn't occurred to him
to think about it before. "I suppose I like the color."
"Then why's everything in here white and not red?"
"They stand out more this way, don't you think?"
"You picked your whole, like, decorative motif to show off your flowers? That
die every other day?"
"Not really. I had a designer in and she asked what my favorite color was."
"Your favorite color is white?"
"No. I told her it was black, and she said black wasn't a color because it was
the absence of color. I said that was why I liked it, and she said I'd
appreciate her design once I got over my teenage angst."
Gojyo laughed and choked a little and only just managed not to snort beer out
his nose. "And you didn't fire her?"
"No, I think she was right, really. Adolescence isn't really a good time to
decorate a multi-million dollar apartment. Think of the loss in resale value if
I'd painted the walls black and put in a disco ball."
Hakkai's face was so perfectly serious that Gojyo ended up with fizzing sinuses
again.
"You really wanted a disco ball?" he asked.
"No, not really. Anyway, I got something much better."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Do you want to see?"
Gojyo nodded and let Hakkai pull him up off the couch, though not before he
grabbed two more beers to take with them. Hakkai's hand in his was cool and
dry, and held on just a little too tightly so that Gojyo could feel his pulse
in his fingertips.
Hakkai pulled him past the wall of stalker letters and down the relentlessly
white hall to the last room on the left. The outside of the door was painted
white and looked exactly like every other door they'd passed and did not
prepare him in any way for the room inside.
The walls were black. The carpet was the rusty red-brown of dried blood. There
were books packed into the small bookcase, teetering in piles on the floor,
stacked on the window ledge, and peeking out from under the bed. A plasma TV
hung from the wall, surrounded by gaming systems and DVDs piled up like
offerings at a shrine.
The three empty pizza boxes and generic carry-out containers probably accounted
for the unfortunate smell, which Hakkai didn't even seem to notice.
"You have to lie down on the bed," Hakkai said, fussing with something next to
his Playstation 3.
"Nice line. You get a lot of girls with that?"
Hakkai gave him an impatient look, pursed lips and hair falling across one eye.
For a moment, he looked his age, or even younger.
Gojyo held his hands up in surrender and lay down on the bed. Hakkai fiddled
for a few seconds longer, and then flicked a switch on the wall.
The room went black. No sliver of light from under the door, nothing coming in
from the window. Gojyo literally could not see his hand in front of his face,
no matter how hard he tried, and he had to bite down on a creeping edge of
panic. Nothing good had ever happened to him in the dark.
A moment later, Hakkai's weight settled next to him on the bed and Hakkai
pressed something plastic and rectangular into his hand.
"Press the button at the top."
Gojyo did, and the whole ceiling lit up with stars.
"It's a miniature version of what they use in planetariums," Hakkai said, but
Gojyo wasn't really listening.
He'd never been farther away from the city than New Jersey, never seen a night
sky like this, except maybe during the blackout.
"That's Andromeda," Hakkai said. Gojyo could just see the outline of his hand
by the light of the stars as he pointed. "She was chained to a rock, supposed
to be eaten by a monster because of her mother's vanity."
"Damn. That's harsh. So did it eat her?"
"Oh, no. Perseus saved her at the last minute."
"Well, that's good."
"I suppose. He demanded her hand in marriage in return. Traditional, but
perhaps she didn't want to marry him? His ability to kill monsters doesn't seem
to equate to--" He stopped. "I'm sorry. I must be boring you."
"Nah, not really."
He could see Hakkai's head turning towards him and the reflected gleam of his
eyes, but not his expression.
"You're sure?" Hakkai asked.
"Sure, I'm sure. It doesn't say what happened after, huh? If he was a good
husband?"
"No, it doesn't say. It seems unlikely though, doesn't it?"
"Maybe not. Maybe he really loved her."
"Love at first sight?"
"Anything's possible."
"I'm not sure I believe in love."
"You seriously need another beer, kid."
Gojyo passed him one, and there was silence for a while except for the hiss of
the bottle opening and the glug-glug as Hakkai upended it into his mouth. It
was quickly followed by a burp that lasted at least three seconds.
"Oh." Hakkai sounded faintly surprised. "I am sorry."
"Not a big beer drinker, huh?"
"Not a big drinker of anything, really."
"You gotta do something about that."
"You're a terribly bad influence."
Speaking of bad influences, Gojyo reminded himself that he really needed to do
something about that knife in the morning. Now would be better, but he didn't
think he could make himself move.
"Nice bed," he told Hakkai.
"It's a Vera Wang."
Gojyo tried not to snicker because Wang should stop being funny if you're older
than, say, fourteen. Tops. But he had a theory about beer and age regression
which he'd someday write out in equation form and it would totally win him the
Nobel Beer Prize. He snickered.
"Are you sure you're legally an adult?" Hakkai asked him.
"I used to go to school with a kid named Dustin Wang. Dusty Wang."
"Really. I'd like to see your driver's license, please." But Hakkai was
smiling. Gojyo could hear it in his voice.
It was a relief to hear him sound like that, almost normal for the first time
all night. Gojyo felt some tension between his shoulders that he hadn't even
known about relax fractionally.
"So," Hakkai said, "if I paid you, would you have sex with me?"
Gojyo laughed. He couldn't help it. He closed his eyes and lay back and laughed
until his whole body was shaking with it. Distantly, he could hear Hakkai being
reasonable, saying things like, "Well, you are a prostitute!" Which only made
him laugh harder.
"What, have you been saving that up all night for, like, the appropriate time?"
he finally managed.
"There didn't seem to be an appropriate time!"
"Hakkai! There is no appropriate time to offer somebody cash for sex unless
that somebody is standing on a street corner wearing less than half what you
are, okay! No appropriate time! Especially not when you're lying in bed
together looking at fake goddamn stars!" It didn't come out with the right
amount of outrage, because he was still trying not to giggle.
"I see," Hakkai said. "So, that's--"
"That's a no!" It might not have been if Hakkai hadn't offered to pay him, but-
-well. At least he wasn't stupid enough to feel hurt by the offer.
"Ah. I understand."
There was silence for a few seconds, just enough time for Gojyo to wonder if
maybe he should've said yes.
"Would you stay the night, at least?" Hakkai asked softly. "If I don't offer to
pay you?"
And despite two or possibly three beers, things were suddenly not so funny
anymore.
Hakkai's arm was touching his, and Hakkai's fingers plucked at the fabric of
his jeans, fiddling with one belt loop. Their shoulders were pressed together,
and Hakkai's face was turned towards him, so that Gojyo could feel the quick
warmth of his breath.
Hell, it was only one night.
"Sure," he said. "I'll stay. No problem."
By the time he drifted off, Hakkai was curled on his side next to him, and
Hakkai's hair brushed his cheek. By the time he woke up again, Hakkai's upper
body was sprawled across his chest, and he could feel Hakkai's cock against his
thigh, hard and hot. Even with the faint light of the stars, he could see
nothing but vague shapes, and he had to touch Hakkai's face and brush his
fingers over closed eyelids to know he was asleep.
There was no cash on offer now.
Gojyo slipped a hand between his own leg and Hakkai's hard-on, cupping it,
rubbing gently. He got a breathy moan in response, and Hakkai rocked forward
against his hand.
Gojyo eased him over onto his back and shifted downwards. Oh, this was a bad,
bad idea, but he was going to do it anyway. Hakkai was so warm against his
side, whole body pliant and trusting--because you're molesting him in his
sleep, Gojyo reminded himself. It made no impact on him at all. He still wanted
to touch. To do more than touch.
He unfastened Hakkai's jeans. The denim was rough, the buttons smooth and warm.
He peeled them downwards and leaned lower to brush his lips over Hakkai's bared
hip. The skin there was soft, tender. Gojyo's tongue traced the sharper edge of
Hakkai's hip bone. He tasted only faintly of salt and smelled almost sweet.
Moving blindly, Gojyo's fingers found the edge of his underwear. They were
stretchy and smooth, too slick to be cotton. He wanted to turn the lights on,
see what color it was, see the outline of Hakkai's cock. He felt it out
instead, long and hard, curving up towards his stomach. Gojyo rubbed his cheek
along it, licked it through the fabric, and it hardened further. His fingers
found the head stretching out the elastic band, wet and slick at the tip. He
pulled the underwear down just enough.
Hakkai moved restlessly, still asleep, or at least pretending. He made a faint
noise in his throat as Gojyo took his cock in hand and licked up the side. HIs
tongue swirled around the head, and he eased his lips over it and began to
suck.
Hakkai smelled clean, tasted good, and Gojyo started to remember some of the
enthusiasm he used to have for a thick cock filling up his mouth. This was why
he'd thought being a hooker wouldn't be so bad, but it was a lot different when
you didn't get to pick whose dick you were sucking.
Not thinking about that, he decided. He didn't need to be thinking at all. Just
feeling. Hakkai's cock grew harder in his mouth, and Hakkai's thigh tensed and
relaxed under his hand. Gojyo closed his eyes and opened his mouth wider.
For a long time, that was all he did. He teased the head with his tongue, slid
his lips up and down slowly, tasted, breathed him in. Hakkai moved a little
under him, and Gojyo had to hold his hips down. Hakkai moaned and gasped and
finally said his name--which probably meant he was awake. Hakkai didn't stop
him, though, and Gojyo didn't want to stop himself.
He took Hakkai deeper until the head was nudging at the back of his throat. He
reached up under Hakkai's shirt and laid a hand on the warm skin of his
stomach, fingers stroking, reaching higher. He swallowed once, and again.
"Oh," he heard Hakkai say. "Please." And then he was coming in a rush down
Gojyo's throat.
Gojyo licked him clean afterwards and laid his head on Hakkai's stomach. Hakkai
touched his hair, finger running through it so lightly he barely felt it. A few
seconds later, Hakkai took hold of his shoulder, tugging him up.
Gojyo slid up until they lay face to face, and allowed the arms around him, the
light touches on his back and sides, but he pushed Hakkai's hands away from the
front of his pants.
"Don't worry about it," he whispered, and soon enough Hakkai was asleep in his
arms again, not quite snoring. Young, Gojyo couldn't help thinking. Really
still a kid, which made made this kind of wrong, probably. Except maybe for the
part where the kid had killed two people earlier this evening, but Gojyo wasn't
sure whether that made it better or worse.
Either way, he should be out of here before Hakkai woke up.
***
The stars were still there when Gojyo opened his eyes again, but dimmed. The
bedroom door was open, and dusty light came in from the hallway. Hakkai was
gone. When Gojyo checked his pocket, he found the knife was gone as well.
He lay still, listening for some kind of sound; water in the bathroom or the
rattling of dishes. Screams from the neighbors. Anything. There was nothing but
the honk of impatient taxis from the street below. He was almost afraid to get
up and check the rest of the apartment, but he knew he should.
The bathroom was empty, and so was the second bedroom, though the bed was
turned down and for some reason there was a mint on the pillow. The other door
led to a library room with shelves and shelves of leatherbound books. It was
also empty.
There was no one in the main room or the kitchen, but there was a styrofoam
container on the kitchen counter with a pink sticky note stuck to it.
     Please stay as long as you want. I hope you like pancakes.
     PS: Don't worry about the thing. I got rid of it.
He opened the container and found a fork. As long as he wanted. He wondered if
that mint on the pillow was meant for him, if Hakkai actually expected him to
stay here for more time than it took to eat pancakes. No, he decided. Hakkai
was being polite, that was all.
The pancakes were sticky sweet, soft, and still warm. Gojyo ate them all, along
with a cup of coffee from the coffee maker. When he went to throw the styrofoam
container away, he saw two more crumpled pink sticky notes in the trash.
The first one was written on heavily, but so crossed out that Gojyo could only
read a few words: Thank you, blood, want, sorry.
The second said only: please don't go.
Gojyo put them carefully back in the trash, pancake container on top of them.
He was still sure he should go. That second one--hell, he should run. He could
just about hear the need in it, and whatever Hakkai thought he needed, Gojyo
wasn't it.
But, he thought, he could stay just until Hakkai got home. He could ask about
the knife. He probably should ask about the knife. If anything went wrong
there, he'd be implicated too. He could order pizza or something, in return for
the pancakes. Explain to Hakkai why he had to leave. Yeah. He could stay a
little longer. A few hours wouldn't make that much difference.
He knew he was lying to himself. He just didn’t care. And if he was staying,
even just for the day, there was something else he needed to do.
In the hallway, the wall of letters fluttered as he approached. He took them
down, one by one, and stacked them in a pile. He stuck the pile under the bed
in the guestroom, ate the mint on the pillow, and headed back out to the living
room.
The glass of the window was warm when he touched it. Central Park looked
different in the morning light; less strange, more alive even from up here. The
city's early autumn haze nearly obscured the buildings on the far side. Gojyo
got another cup of coffee and stepped out onto the balcony to wait for Hakkai's
return.
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