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louiseluxOkay, secret perversions fic #2. This one is for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cmda_alexanda and I think I have been able to tick off every one of your wishes: Hakkai/Gojyo AU, unholy Hakkai/Doku, yakuza!Gojyo, Hakkai working in a soapland. Wow. I intended it to be a brief snippet but it grew...
Fandom: Saiyuki AU
Title: Soapland
Pairing: Gojyo/Hakkai, Hakkai/Jien
Rating: explicit m/m, not worksafe
Notes: thanks to the wonderfulemungere once more, for very swift beta.
Summary: Hakkai works in Soapland...
Soapland
These days, Hakkai was always very very clean. So clean that his skin felt stretched tight over his bones and his hair squeaked between his fingers. He liked the feeling, but he took a tip after his first week in the job and invested in a five litre tub of skin lotion. Clients liked soft, silky skin, not washerwoman hands and flaking elbows and limp hair. The cleanliness aspect was one that had attracted him to the job, along with the option to keep his own unconventional hours and the fact that his employers were okay about-- rather, totally disinterested in-- the fact that he technically didn't exist.
Cho Hakkai was made up, some name he'd plucked from some book or other. It had appealed to him; the name of a pig monster.
"Turn over please, sir," he murmured, kneeling up. A huge fragile sheet of soap bubble stretched between them, whirling with colours. He broke it with a finger. It wasn't good to be connected like that. "I'd like to clean your front, if I may be allowed?"
The man underneath him sighed and rolled over between Hakkai's spread thighs. Streams of white foamy bubbles dripped from his chest onto the rubber floor. His eyes were shut and he looked like he could be asleep, expect for the rather obvious evidence that he wasn't. Hakkai gave him a little squeeze, pressing down with his hips.
This man was handsome and tall, with a good body. A very nice body indeed. Strong and muscled, with just enough scars to be interesting. He liked a man with scars; it showed he knew how to fight, and fighting was an important skill, one that so many people neglected.
He'd been Hakkai's regular for some weeks, almost since his first day. He liked to Hakkai to wash him and then fuck him, hard, bent over the couch. Hakkai had no problems with that, none at all. He got paid for it, after all.
Hakkai reached for the soap. He smoothed it over his own chest and stomach, then lowered himself down onto the man's body. The man opened his eyes; they were brown and sad, like a dog's.
"You really are filthy. It's time I got you clean," Hakkai said, working their bodies together. The man's hands came round his waist and pulled him even closer. His cock dug into Hakkai's stomach, slipping against his skin. "Everywhere."
"Yes. Mama," the man gasped, arching up and letting his thighs fall open.
"That's right. Good boy."
***
He came back every day, always the same, sometimes with more bruises and once with a long, vivid knife wound that Hakkai had taken special care over, licking it clean until the man had cried and had shoved him off.
"I love you," the man had blurted, afterwards, his fingers digging tightly into Hakkai's arm.
"I don't think so," Hakkai had said, pushing his hand away. "Sir."
The man hadn't come back since.
***
Hakkai was rinsing off the fibreglass fake-lagoon hot tub, prior to disinfecting his plastic couch, when the door to his bathroom opened.
"I'm not ready, sir," he called, over his shoulder. "Just a few moments."
"I'm not here for that shit. Where is he?"
Hakkai switched off the showerhead and turned around, water dripping down his bare legs.
A young man was staring at him, managing to look both angry and also faintly confused. He had a cigarette in one hand and the other was shoved into his jeans pocket. He froze in place, just staring. The moment of silence stretched out.
"He? There are many hes here, sir."
The young man didn't seem to know what to say.
"I-- you-- " he began, then trailed off. "Have I met you before?" he said, squinting at him.
"I'm certain you haven't," Hakkai said. "I'd remember."
"Huh. Why's that?"
"You're very beautiful."
He didn't reply, just stared more, as if Hakkai were mad. Ash from his cigarette dropped onto the tiles, and Hakkai pointed to the no smoking sign. The man lifted his chin and scowled, his gaze flat and suspicious, like an angry cat. Hakkai gripped his shower head a little more tightly. How-- impressive.
"Are you looking for someone in particular?" he said.
The man threw his cigarette down and stalked forward. "My brother. Who came to you every fucking day, apparently."
"There's no need to raise your voice, sir," he said, as the man backed him up against the hot tub. The fibreglass rocks dug into his calves
"When did you last see him?"
"You're invading my personal space," Hakkai pointed out. He wanted to move back, but the man caught his arm. Clouded blue eyes stared into his, as if searching for something. He felt sweat break out on his upper lip. "I don't like that."
"You're bothered about that and you work in a Soapland? How does that work?"
"It pays the bills! Don't shake me like that."
"Look, I don't want any crap. I need to find him. He's tall, dark hair, looks like he works out." The man paused, looking a bit sick. "Gotta fresh scar on his stomach - you'll have seen that, yeah?"
"Oh." Hakkai yanked himself free. "You mean Mr Papadopoulos?"
The young man looked blank.
"Who the hell is Mr Papadopoulos?"
"I always suspected he'd given me a false name," said Hakkai. "I think he and your brother are the same person. He has a tattoo of a shark on his left shoulder, and now I think of it, you do look alike."
"That's him. Did he say anything?"
"About what?"
"Just, like, if he was in trouble. Anywhere he was planning on going?"
"Why would he tell me, if he didn't tell you? He's your brother."
"We don't talk that much. Busy, you know. With stuff. Not that it's any of your business."
"He didn't tell me anything."
Blue eyes met his, hard again. "Right. I found the receipts. He came here all the time. Jeez. I never even knew he was into guys."
"Yes," said Hakkai, smiling. "He found anal sex very fulfilling, possibly as a way to offset his guilt over his mother fetish."
The young man's eyes shot open as if Hakkai had just stabbed him.
"Just - shut up! I don't wanna know that stuff."
"Well, you did ask."
"No, I didn't."
"In any case, I'm only assuming about his-your-mother. I don't claim to be an expert."
"Whatever. So, you don't know where he is? And he didn't say anything weird about-- anything? No trouble he'd been in?"
"Sorry."
The man looked about the bathroom, at the plastic vines and flowers that hung from the ceiling. The gold and white plastic sign on the door read 'tropical rainforest lagoon'.
"This place is really tacky. I can't believe he was into it."
"Excuse me. It's the best establishment of this nature in town."
"Only establishment."
Hakkai liked his bathroom. He liked the shower best of all: it had a wide nozzle that poured drenching torrents of water down on his head, just like being in a rainstorm. It drowned out noise and thoughts, made him, almost, feel reborn.
"Am I to assume the 'trouble' would be organised crime?" said Hakkai. "In which case you must be involved too."
The young man's expression hardly changed, it just got harder and flatter and more menacing. But behind Hakkai thought he saw a flare of desperation. A tingle ran down his spine: he wanted to know his name.
"Your gun is showing, you see," he pointed out. "Under your jacket. You need to pay more attention to details like that, if you want to be a successful criminal. The police will catch you easily."
"What the fuck? I do just fine, don't need advice from a friggin rent boy."
"Except your shoes are through at the heel and you haven't changed that shirt for days. Did you sleep in your car last night? That's not a sign of success. No one will be impressed. You'll find it far harder to make good deals, or even intimidate people."
"Leave my clothes out of it," said the young man, clutching at his shirt almost protectively.
"You and your brother are both pretending to be things you're not."
Which might not be the wisest thing to say to this person, Hakkai thought. The young man's face darkened. His mouth twisted in something that wasn't even near a smile. He looked really very mean.
"Yeah well. Sometimes it's easier that way, isn't it? Like working in a place like this? Hakkai," he said, flipping the silver tag that hung round Hakkai's neck. "Or whatever the fuck your real name is. Why are you working here? Is that a sign of success? Huh?"
He was smarter than he looked. Hakkai sighed.
"I'm sorry about your brother. He was a good client. Will he be safe, do you think?"
"Maybe. He's a pretty sensible guy. Except about you, apparently," the man added, shaking his head.
"Well," said Hakkai, feeling he should say something positive at this point. "He's very good at sex."
"Fuck. Just stop."
"He said he was in love with me. I didn't believe him for a moment. What's your name? In case he comes back and I can tell him."
The young man looked him over, then, clearly taking in the low-cut white trunks-- as much of a uniform as they provided-- and Hakkai's obsessively moisturised, smooth skin and the way his nipples were getting hard. His shoulders slumped as if all the spirit had gone out of him.
"You can call me Ishi," he said. He jerked his chin in a kind of nod and scratched at the back of his head. His nails were dirty and ragged, bitten low so that his fingertips had pink curves of exposed skin showing. There were soft blue shadows under his eyes, just starting to show. He was lovely, and clearly in trouble. "Look, I'm sorry for yelling."
Whatever Ishi did, it didn't look like he had much time for laundry. His veneer of cool was spoiled by grimy cuffs and hair that looked like it hadn't been combed for days. The snub black handle of his gun poked out again when he uncrossed his arms. The lining of his suit jacket was ripped.
"Thank you," said Hakkai, with a little bow. He smiled, lowering his head and looking up through his lashes. "So… are you dirty, Ishi?"
"… What?"
Those blue eyes widening was a pretty sight. He was very handsome, even more than his brother. Hakkai hoped he didn't have a mother fetish.
"Because I could clean you up."
Ishi folded his arms over his chest and stared at his shoes. "What? You mean… ?"
Hakkai nodded. "Please. As a gesture of goodwill on my part."
Ishi stood with his mouth open for a few moments.
"Why… why would I even-- ? For free?"
"I'll send your clothes to the laundry room, and you can rest in the lagoon. It will be relaxing for you."
"It's a pretty lame lagoon."
"Or not. We could shower. Whatever you want." He bit his lip and tried to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn't. "Please stay."
Hakkai turned to lean over the tub. He swirled water round it one more time, then hooked its shower head over the taps. He could hear Ishi's soft, indrawn breath as he bent over. Steam rose around him.
"Yeah," he heard Ishi say, low and rough. "Okay."
"There is a changing area behind the screen," Hakkai said.
He fetched a large clean white towel from the rack, arranged the soap and shampoo bottles so they would be to hand, then turned on the shower so that the water would be warm. He collected Ishi's dirty clothes and told the maid to get them cleaned. Then he waited, watching the water dance on the dull black tiles at his feet.
The soft pad of bare feet let him know that Ishi was behind him.
"Stand under the shower, please," Hakkai said.
The running water changed its steady hiss as it hit skin; it spattered and fell in streams from Ishi's shoulders, running down his arms and pouring from his fingertips like water poured from a spout. Ishi made a faint noise and closed his eyes, letting it run over his face. He looked thinner now he was naked, more real somehow. Low down on his back, when Hakkai turned him by his shoulders to face the wall, was a faint discoloured patch of skin; the remains of an ancient bruise.
"Will you wash my hair?" Ishi said.
His voice was almost lost in the hiss, as if he'd hardly dared ask. His hair was tangled and greasy, hanging in a rough cut over his shoulders, getting even darker now as the water flattened it to his scalp and his neck. His shoulders were wide, with slender muscles. The knobs of his spine showed a little too much, trailing down into a delicate furrow at the base of his spine. His buttocks swelled in two curves, glistening wet as water flowed over them.
"Of course," said Hakkai, and Ishi sighed.
The shampoo was expensive, like the soap, everything chosen for its mildness and lack of scent. He lathered his hands and rubbed at Ishi's scalp, over and over, until he saw his tense muscles slacken and his neck curve forward. The lather came away grey at first, swirling down Ishi's legs, then white and clean as he applied another handful of shampoo.
"Everyone should have someone to wash their hair, don't you think?" Hakkai said, combing Ishi's clean, sopping hair back from his face with his fingers.
"I dunno," Ishi mumbled. "No one's ever washed it before."
"Not even your brother, or your mother?" Ishi was silent, and Hakkai decided to leave that subject alone. He moved an inch closer, so that Ishi's backside brushed against him. He put his hands on Ishi's hips, very lightly, feeling him jump. "Shall I wash you now, sir?" he said, softly.
Hakkai felt muscles twitch under his palms. Ishi didn't speak, but he made a movement that could've been a nod.
"Relax," Hakkai murmured, although he wasn't feeling very relaxed himself.
Ishi reached back and put his hand on Hakkai's hip. His fingers curled into the top of the white trunks and stayed there, then tugged.
"You c'n take 'em off," he whispered, head hanging down
"Yes, sir," he said, as he bent and slipped them off, leaning to place them on the bench. "Like this?" he said, moving close again, slipping his hands around his waist. Ishi's back muscles flexed and he leaned back a tiny amount.
He didn't say anything as Hakkai squeezed soap into his palms and spread it over his own chest and stomach. He hardly moved when Hakkai shifted close and pressed himself, chest to thigh, along the back of Ishi's body. Their skin slid together easily, almost frictionless. Ishi moaned very faintly and put his hands out flat on tiles to brace himself.
It couldn't properly be called washing, not really. Hakkai closed his eyes and let himself feel the hard contours of muscle and bone, the sharp hip, the faint dip of his waist and the hard lines of his shoulder blades. The firm, lush curves of his buttocks as Ishi pushed back a little. Hakkai stroked both hands up his spine to the back of his neck, digging his fingers in to the tight muscles there.
"Oh," said Ishi, as water ran over his face. It dripped in a silver stream from his eyelashes and nose and chin, and ran into his open mouth. He arched his back, stretching like a cat, making it hard for Hakkai to concentrate.
He was a little taller than Hakkai. That was good. It meant Hakkai could lean his forehead on the back of Ishi's neck and look down to where their bodies were pressed tight together. The head of Hakkai's cock slid tightly between his cheeks, up and down, helped by the soap.
"I want to get you properly clean," he said, almost to himself. "All over."
He dropped to his knees. Ishi made a strangled sound as Hakkai soaped each leg in turn, using his chest and hands, massaging up to the top of each long thigh, letting his fingers slip into the hot, wet crease between his legs.
"I don't-I haven't--" Ishi mumbled, but his feet shifted apart on the tiles.
"It doesn't matter," Hakkai said, then leaned forward and licked over hot, clean skin, pressing closer and in, just for second. Ishi made a tight sound in his throat.
He ran his hands up over Ishi's thighs, smoothing the last of the soap away. His legs were trembling a little as Hakkai licked at him, until he pulled back, hands tightening on his hips.
"I should really do your front, sir," he said, then let his teeth meet in a gentle nip on the smooth skin of his inner thigh. Water ran over his teeth and tongue, making him feel half drowned. He smiled and bit a little harder, until Ishi moaned, a low sound that flowed down Hakkai's spine, just like the water.
He pushed Ishi back against the tiled wall, in the end, and worked himself hard against him, soap between his thighs, on his hands and chest, hands sliding everywhere until they were both panting. Ishi's hands were tight on his shoulders and his fingers were digging in so hard it hurt.
"Give me some," he panted, staring down at where Hakkai's cock was rubbing over his hip. "The soap," he said, when Hakkai didn't move. "In my fucking hands."
The water clinging to him looked like liquid gold and a whip-thin curve of dark hair sliced across his cheek, glued there by the wet. His dick was stiff and stood up, thick and red, between his thighs. His hands slid up Hakkai's shoulder to his hair and jerked his head forward. Hakkai was finding it difficult to think clearly.
"I don't know what you want," Hakkai said, feeling like he should know.
"I think I want this," Ishi said, staring at his mouth. He cupped Hakkai's face in both hands and then pulled him close and kissed him, hard, pushing his tongue between Hakkai's lips. He was a little clumsy, as if he couldn't quite control himself, or he hadn't done this much before. Not that Hakkai was an expert.
Hakkai didn't kiss. Not anyone, ever. But then, no one had ever wanted to wash him either. He pulled away and groped with shaking hands for the bottle, upending it into Ishi's palms. Far too much came out, and spilled all over the tiles in pearly streaks. It looked like… he looked up to see Ishi's lips curved into a grin. He looked different when he smiled; he seemed more dangerous. The bottle fell from Hakkai's fingers and rattled on the floor.
"Yeah. You like it?" Ishi said, shaking water from his eyes. He didn't wait for an answer, just soaped himself in thick streaks across his body, then yanked Hakkai in, his hands sliding round to grab Hakkai's ass. His fingers dug in too hard, still. "Too much in your personal space?"
Hakkai shook his head, could barely find breath for a laugh. "I-I'm perfectly clean," he said, leaning closer. "I wash so much," he breathed, watching Ishi's lips. They were so red. Ishi's fingers were exploring him now, getting soap between his thighs, dripping it down his legs. He got his fist tight round Hakkai's shaft and squeezed, his fist making wet sucking sounds as he stroked. He was making bubbles too; they spilled over his fingers.
"Not like this," Ishi said, as if he knew.
Hakkai pressed his face to Ishi's neck, licking at his skin mindlessly. "No," he said.
It felt -- odd to be held like this. It wasn't what normally happened. He felt a light touch on his cheek, and raised his head. Ishi kissed him there again and ran his hand up Hakkai's spine, slow and smooth, over his neck and up to cup the back of his head.
"Are you enjoying this?" Ishi whispered, kissing his face again in that distracting way. Hakkai closed his eyes.
"Do you want me to?"
Ishi didn't say anything for a moment. He tightened his arm around Hakkai's waist and let out a shuddery breath.
"Stupid," he muttered in Hakkai's ear, and then Hakkai felt his teeth graze at his neck. "What the hell kind of answer is that?"
"What kind of answer would you like?"
"Jesus. Okay."
His voice sounded as soft as the falling water, like he didn't care, but it was shaking too. He took Hakkai's hand and curled it round his cock, so they were touching each other at the same time. For some reason Hakkai had forgotten that he was supposed to be getting Ishi off, too lost in his own feelings. Hakkai stared at his mouth, then put a finger to it, gasping when Ishi closed his teeth on the soft pad of flesh, sucking at it.
"I am," Hakkai said.
Enjoying this. He slid his arm tight round Ishi's neck and thrust into his hand, closing his eyes tight and letting himself move hard and fast, forgetting to be careful. He didn't need to hold back. He heard Ishi's soft laugh, as if he understood everything. Hakkai hated having to explain himself.
Hakkai found himself pulled further under the falling water. It washed away the soap until he was touching Ishi's bare skin.
"I want you to come on me," Ishi muttered, hot breath in his ear, mouth pressing to his skin, anywhere he could reach.
"Oh, please. Yes."
Ishi's thighs were taut and his muscles were stiffening under Hakkai's hands. He was tipping back, arching up and pulling Hakkai even closer, so their hips bumped together. Hakkai tried to breathe. He pressed his forehead to Ishi's shoulder and looked down, watching their hands move on each other, closer and tighter and faster.
He tried to separate everything out, but failed: Ishi's teeth on his neck, the water pounding on his heated skin, the small, soft moans of pleasure. He was so hard under Hakkai's hand, like something made of steel. He fitted just right. Hakkai squeezed, struggling to keep his hand moving in a proper rhythm.
"I meant to clean you with my mouth," he whispered, staring down, and then he came, arching forward, painting Ishi's stomach with streaks of white, hearing Ishi's breathing getting ragged and harsh, feeling him shaking.
It was hard to make his hand work properly then, or do anything except lean on warm, solid skin. He felt Ishi's hand curl round his own, until he drew in a sharp hissing breath and pulsed over Hakkai's fingers. He stared down, watching the white streaks disappear, washed away by the water before he could touch them.
Hakkai didn't remember turning the water off. It must've been Ishi. He tugged Hakkai over to the couch and pushed him down, slicking the water from Hakkai's hair.
Hakkai woke up sometime later, feeling heavy and slow, almost doped up. He realised that he was wrapped in the clean towel. He lay for a few moments staring up at the tiny window high in the far wall, not wanting to move. The sky was dark blue, hazed with yellow streetlamps. Ishi. He sat up too quickly, craning round to look at the room. It was empty. He got to his feet and pattered over to the changing area, pulling the towel round him like a shawl.
"Hi," Ishi said. He was sitting naked on the bench, reading one of the tacky celebrity magazines that one of the boys on the front desk brought in every week. He put it down when he saw Hakkai. "They didn't bring my clothes back yet," he said.
His eyes were wide and Hakkai saw the nervous flex of his throat, as if Hakkai might order him to leave just as he was, naked. Hakkai pulled the towel more tightly round himself and sat down next to him on the bench.
"Have you got somewhere to go?" Hakkai said. "Apart from your car?"
The magazine slithered to the floor. It fell open on a nearly naked picture of a film star. Hakkai nudged it away with his toe while Ishi failed to answer.
"Because I have a place," he went on. "You could stay for free."
"Nothing's free."
"Well, that's a good point." He tapped his toes in small puddle of water near Ishi's feet. "Would you have more sex with me? I can help you find your brother."
Ishi picked up the magazine and folded it neatly, then stacked it on top of the pile of others. His knee touched Hakkai's and Hakkai could feel his body heat, warming him all along his side.
"Yeah," Ishi said. "Okay."
cmda_alexanda and I think I have been able to tick off every one of your wishes: Hakkai/Gojyo AU, unholy Hakkai/Doku, yakuza!Gojyo, Hakkai working in a soapland. Wow. I intended it to be a brief snippet but it grew...Fandom: Saiyuki AU
Title: Soapland
Pairing: Gojyo/Hakkai, Hakkai/Jien
Rating: explicit m/m, not worksafe
Notes: thanks to the wonderful
emungere once more, for very swift beta. Summary: Hakkai works in Soapland...
Soapland
These days, Hakkai was always very very clean. So clean that his skin felt stretched tight over his bones and his hair squeaked between his fingers. He liked the feeling, but he took a tip after his first week in the job and invested in a five litre tub of skin lotion. Clients liked soft, silky skin, not washerwoman hands and flaking elbows and limp hair. The cleanliness aspect was one that had attracted him to the job, along with the option to keep his own unconventional hours and the fact that his employers were okay about-- rather, totally disinterested in-- the fact that he technically didn't exist.
Cho Hakkai was made up, some name he'd plucked from some book or other. It had appealed to him; the name of a pig monster.
"Turn over please, sir," he murmured, kneeling up. A huge fragile sheet of soap bubble stretched between them, whirling with colours. He broke it with a finger. It wasn't good to be connected like that. "I'd like to clean your front, if I may be allowed?"
The man underneath him sighed and rolled over between Hakkai's spread thighs. Streams of white foamy bubbles dripped from his chest onto the rubber floor. His eyes were shut and he looked like he could be asleep, expect for the rather obvious evidence that he wasn't. Hakkai gave him a little squeeze, pressing down with his hips.
This man was handsome and tall, with a good body. A very nice body indeed. Strong and muscled, with just enough scars to be interesting. He liked a man with scars; it showed he knew how to fight, and fighting was an important skill, one that so many people neglected.
He'd been Hakkai's regular for some weeks, almost since his first day. He liked to Hakkai to wash him and then fuck him, hard, bent over the couch. Hakkai had no problems with that, none at all. He got paid for it, after all.
Hakkai reached for the soap. He smoothed it over his own chest and stomach, then lowered himself down onto the man's body. The man opened his eyes; they were brown and sad, like a dog's.
"You really are filthy. It's time I got you clean," Hakkai said, working their bodies together. The man's hands came round his waist and pulled him even closer. His cock dug into Hakkai's stomach, slipping against his skin. "Everywhere."
"Yes. Mama," the man gasped, arching up and letting his thighs fall open.
"That's right. Good boy."
***
He came back every day, always the same, sometimes with more bruises and once with a long, vivid knife wound that Hakkai had taken special care over, licking it clean until the man had cried and had shoved him off.
"I love you," the man had blurted, afterwards, his fingers digging tightly into Hakkai's arm.
"I don't think so," Hakkai had said, pushing his hand away. "Sir."
The man hadn't come back since.
***
Hakkai was rinsing off the fibreglass fake-lagoon hot tub, prior to disinfecting his plastic couch, when the door to his bathroom opened.
"I'm not ready, sir," he called, over his shoulder. "Just a few moments."
"I'm not here for that shit. Where is he?"
Hakkai switched off the showerhead and turned around, water dripping down his bare legs.
A young man was staring at him, managing to look both angry and also faintly confused. He had a cigarette in one hand and the other was shoved into his jeans pocket. He froze in place, just staring. The moment of silence stretched out.
"He? There are many hes here, sir."
The young man didn't seem to know what to say.
"I-- you-- " he began, then trailed off. "Have I met you before?" he said, squinting at him.
"I'm certain you haven't," Hakkai said. "I'd remember."
"Huh. Why's that?"
"You're very beautiful."
He didn't reply, just stared more, as if Hakkai were mad. Ash from his cigarette dropped onto the tiles, and Hakkai pointed to the no smoking sign. The man lifted his chin and scowled, his gaze flat and suspicious, like an angry cat. Hakkai gripped his shower head a little more tightly. How-- impressive.
"Are you looking for someone in particular?" he said.
The man threw his cigarette down and stalked forward. "My brother. Who came to you every fucking day, apparently."
"There's no need to raise your voice, sir," he said, as the man backed him up against the hot tub. The fibreglass rocks dug into his calves
"When did you last see him?"
"You're invading my personal space," Hakkai pointed out. He wanted to move back, but the man caught his arm. Clouded blue eyes stared into his, as if searching for something. He felt sweat break out on his upper lip. "I don't like that."
"You're bothered about that and you work in a Soapland? How does that work?"
"It pays the bills! Don't shake me like that."
"Look, I don't want any crap. I need to find him. He's tall, dark hair, looks like he works out." The man paused, looking a bit sick. "Gotta fresh scar on his stomach - you'll have seen that, yeah?"
"Oh." Hakkai yanked himself free. "You mean Mr Papadopoulos?"
The young man looked blank.
"Who the hell is Mr Papadopoulos?"
"I always suspected he'd given me a false name," said Hakkai. "I think he and your brother are the same person. He has a tattoo of a shark on his left shoulder, and now I think of it, you do look alike."
"That's him. Did he say anything?"
"About what?"
"Just, like, if he was in trouble. Anywhere he was planning on going?"
"Why would he tell me, if he didn't tell you? He's your brother."
"We don't talk that much. Busy, you know. With stuff. Not that it's any of your business."
"He didn't tell me anything."
Blue eyes met his, hard again. "Right. I found the receipts. He came here all the time. Jeez. I never even knew he was into guys."
"Yes," said Hakkai, smiling. "He found anal sex very fulfilling, possibly as a way to offset his guilt over his mother fetish."
The young man's eyes shot open as if Hakkai had just stabbed him.
"Just - shut up! I don't wanna know that stuff."
"Well, you did ask."
"No, I didn't."
"In any case, I'm only assuming about his-your-mother. I don't claim to be an expert."
"Whatever. So, you don't know where he is? And he didn't say anything weird about-- anything? No trouble he'd been in?"
"Sorry."
The man looked about the bathroom, at the plastic vines and flowers that hung from the ceiling. The gold and white plastic sign on the door read 'tropical rainforest lagoon'.
"This place is really tacky. I can't believe he was into it."
"Excuse me. It's the best establishment of this nature in town."
"Only establishment."
Hakkai liked his bathroom. He liked the shower best of all: it had a wide nozzle that poured drenching torrents of water down on his head, just like being in a rainstorm. It drowned out noise and thoughts, made him, almost, feel reborn.
"Am I to assume the 'trouble' would be organised crime?" said Hakkai. "In which case you must be involved too."
The young man's expression hardly changed, it just got harder and flatter and more menacing. But behind Hakkai thought he saw a flare of desperation. A tingle ran down his spine: he wanted to know his name.
"Your gun is showing, you see," he pointed out. "Under your jacket. You need to pay more attention to details like that, if you want to be a successful criminal. The police will catch you easily."
"What the fuck? I do just fine, don't need advice from a friggin rent boy."
"Except your shoes are through at the heel and you haven't changed that shirt for days. Did you sleep in your car last night? That's not a sign of success. No one will be impressed. You'll find it far harder to make good deals, or even intimidate people."
"Leave my clothes out of it," said the young man, clutching at his shirt almost protectively.
"You and your brother are both pretending to be things you're not."
Which might not be the wisest thing to say to this person, Hakkai thought. The young man's face darkened. His mouth twisted in something that wasn't even near a smile. He looked really very mean.
"Yeah well. Sometimes it's easier that way, isn't it? Like working in a place like this? Hakkai," he said, flipping the silver tag that hung round Hakkai's neck. "Or whatever the fuck your real name is. Why are you working here? Is that a sign of success? Huh?"
He was smarter than he looked. Hakkai sighed.
"I'm sorry about your brother. He was a good client. Will he be safe, do you think?"
"Maybe. He's a pretty sensible guy. Except about you, apparently," the man added, shaking his head.
"Well," said Hakkai, feeling he should say something positive at this point. "He's very good at sex."
"Fuck. Just stop."
"He said he was in love with me. I didn't believe him for a moment. What's your name? In case he comes back and I can tell him."
The young man looked him over, then, clearly taking in the low-cut white trunks-- as much of a uniform as they provided-- and Hakkai's obsessively moisturised, smooth skin and the way his nipples were getting hard. His shoulders slumped as if all the spirit had gone out of him.
"You can call me Ishi," he said. He jerked his chin in a kind of nod and scratched at the back of his head. His nails were dirty and ragged, bitten low so that his fingertips had pink curves of exposed skin showing. There were soft blue shadows under his eyes, just starting to show. He was lovely, and clearly in trouble. "Look, I'm sorry for yelling."
Whatever Ishi did, it didn't look like he had much time for laundry. His veneer of cool was spoiled by grimy cuffs and hair that looked like it hadn't been combed for days. The snub black handle of his gun poked out again when he uncrossed his arms. The lining of his suit jacket was ripped.
"Thank you," said Hakkai, with a little bow. He smiled, lowering his head and looking up through his lashes. "So… are you dirty, Ishi?"
"… What?"
Those blue eyes widening was a pretty sight. He was very handsome, even more than his brother. Hakkai hoped he didn't have a mother fetish.
"Because I could clean you up."
Ishi folded his arms over his chest and stared at his shoes. "What? You mean… ?"
Hakkai nodded. "Please. As a gesture of goodwill on my part."
Ishi stood with his mouth open for a few moments.
"Why… why would I even-- ? For free?"
"I'll send your clothes to the laundry room, and you can rest in the lagoon. It will be relaxing for you."
"It's a pretty lame lagoon."
"Or not. We could shower. Whatever you want." He bit his lip and tried to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn't. "Please stay."
Hakkai turned to lean over the tub. He swirled water round it one more time, then hooked its shower head over the taps. He could hear Ishi's soft, indrawn breath as he bent over. Steam rose around him.
"Yeah," he heard Ishi say, low and rough. "Okay."
"There is a changing area behind the screen," Hakkai said.
He fetched a large clean white towel from the rack, arranged the soap and shampoo bottles so they would be to hand, then turned on the shower so that the water would be warm. He collected Ishi's dirty clothes and told the maid to get them cleaned. Then he waited, watching the water dance on the dull black tiles at his feet.
The soft pad of bare feet let him know that Ishi was behind him.
"Stand under the shower, please," Hakkai said.
The running water changed its steady hiss as it hit skin; it spattered and fell in streams from Ishi's shoulders, running down his arms and pouring from his fingertips like water poured from a spout. Ishi made a faint noise and closed his eyes, letting it run over his face. He looked thinner now he was naked, more real somehow. Low down on his back, when Hakkai turned him by his shoulders to face the wall, was a faint discoloured patch of skin; the remains of an ancient bruise.
"Will you wash my hair?" Ishi said.
His voice was almost lost in the hiss, as if he'd hardly dared ask. His hair was tangled and greasy, hanging in a rough cut over his shoulders, getting even darker now as the water flattened it to his scalp and his neck. His shoulders were wide, with slender muscles. The knobs of his spine showed a little too much, trailing down into a delicate furrow at the base of his spine. His buttocks swelled in two curves, glistening wet as water flowed over them.
"Of course," said Hakkai, and Ishi sighed.
The shampoo was expensive, like the soap, everything chosen for its mildness and lack of scent. He lathered his hands and rubbed at Ishi's scalp, over and over, until he saw his tense muscles slacken and his neck curve forward. The lather came away grey at first, swirling down Ishi's legs, then white and clean as he applied another handful of shampoo.
"Everyone should have someone to wash their hair, don't you think?" Hakkai said, combing Ishi's clean, sopping hair back from his face with his fingers.
"I dunno," Ishi mumbled. "No one's ever washed it before."
"Not even your brother, or your mother?" Ishi was silent, and Hakkai decided to leave that subject alone. He moved an inch closer, so that Ishi's backside brushed against him. He put his hands on Ishi's hips, very lightly, feeling him jump. "Shall I wash you now, sir?" he said, softly.
Hakkai felt muscles twitch under his palms. Ishi didn't speak, but he made a movement that could've been a nod.
"Relax," Hakkai murmured, although he wasn't feeling very relaxed himself.
Ishi reached back and put his hand on Hakkai's hip. His fingers curled into the top of the white trunks and stayed there, then tugged.
"You c'n take 'em off," he whispered, head hanging down
"Yes, sir," he said, as he bent and slipped them off, leaning to place them on the bench. "Like this?" he said, moving close again, slipping his hands around his waist. Ishi's back muscles flexed and he leaned back a tiny amount.
He didn't say anything as Hakkai squeezed soap into his palms and spread it over his own chest and stomach. He hardly moved when Hakkai shifted close and pressed himself, chest to thigh, along the back of Ishi's body. Their skin slid together easily, almost frictionless. Ishi moaned very faintly and put his hands out flat on tiles to brace himself.
It couldn't properly be called washing, not really. Hakkai closed his eyes and let himself feel the hard contours of muscle and bone, the sharp hip, the faint dip of his waist and the hard lines of his shoulder blades. The firm, lush curves of his buttocks as Ishi pushed back a little. Hakkai stroked both hands up his spine to the back of his neck, digging his fingers in to the tight muscles there.
"Oh," said Ishi, as water ran over his face. It dripped in a silver stream from his eyelashes and nose and chin, and ran into his open mouth. He arched his back, stretching like a cat, making it hard for Hakkai to concentrate.
He was a little taller than Hakkai. That was good. It meant Hakkai could lean his forehead on the back of Ishi's neck and look down to where their bodies were pressed tight together. The head of Hakkai's cock slid tightly between his cheeks, up and down, helped by the soap.
"I want to get you properly clean," he said, almost to himself. "All over."
He dropped to his knees. Ishi made a strangled sound as Hakkai soaped each leg in turn, using his chest and hands, massaging up to the top of each long thigh, letting his fingers slip into the hot, wet crease between his legs.
"I don't-I haven't--" Ishi mumbled, but his feet shifted apart on the tiles.
"It doesn't matter," Hakkai said, then leaned forward and licked over hot, clean skin, pressing closer and in, just for second. Ishi made a tight sound in his throat.
He ran his hands up over Ishi's thighs, smoothing the last of the soap away. His legs were trembling a little as Hakkai licked at him, until he pulled back, hands tightening on his hips.
"I should really do your front, sir," he said, then let his teeth meet in a gentle nip on the smooth skin of his inner thigh. Water ran over his teeth and tongue, making him feel half drowned. He smiled and bit a little harder, until Ishi moaned, a low sound that flowed down Hakkai's spine, just like the water.
He pushed Ishi back against the tiled wall, in the end, and worked himself hard against him, soap between his thighs, on his hands and chest, hands sliding everywhere until they were both panting. Ishi's hands were tight on his shoulders and his fingers were digging in so hard it hurt.
"Give me some," he panted, staring down at where Hakkai's cock was rubbing over his hip. "The soap," he said, when Hakkai didn't move. "In my fucking hands."
The water clinging to him looked like liquid gold and a whip-thin curve of dark hair sliced across his cheek, glued there by the wet. His dick was stiff and stood up, thick and red, between his thighs. His hands slid up Hakkai's shoulder to his hair and jerked his head forward. Hakkai was finding it difficult to think clearly.
"I don't know what you want," Hakkai said, feeling like he should know.
"I think I want this," Ishi said, staring at his mouth. He cupped Hakkai's face in both hands and then pulled him close and kissed him, hard, pushing his tongue between Hakkai's lips. He was a little clumsy, as if he couldn't quite control himself, or he hadn't done this much before. Not that Hakkai was an expert.
Hakkai didn't kiss. Not anyone, ever. But then, no one had ever wanted to wash him either. He pulled away and groped with shaking hands for the bottle, upending it into Ishi's palms. Far too much came out, and spilled all over the tiles in pearly streaks. It looked like… he looked up to see Ishi's lips curved into a grin. He looked different when he smiled; he seemed more dangerous. The bottle fell from Hakkai's fingers and rattled on the floor.
"Yeah. You like it?" Ishi said, shaking water from his eyes. He didn't wait for an answer, just soaped himself in thick streaks across his body, then yanked Hakkai in, his hands sliding round to grab Hakkai's ass. His fingers dug in too hard, still. "Too much in your personal space?"
Hakkai shook his head, could barely find breath for a laugh. "I-I'm perfectly clean," he said, leaning closer. "I wash so much," he breathed, watching Ishi's lips. They were so red. Ishi's fingers were exploring him now, getting soap between his thighs, dripping it down his legs. He got his fist tight round Hakkai's shaft and squeezed, his fist making wet sucking sounds as he stroked. He was making bubbles too; they spilled over his fingers.
"Not like this," Ishi said, as if he knew.
Hakkai pressed his face to Ishi's neck, licking at his skin mindlessly. "No," he said.
It felt -- odd to be held like this. It wasn't what normally happened. He felt a light touch on his cheek, and raised his head. Ishi kissed him there again and ran his hand up Hakkai's spine, slow and smooth, over his neck and up to cup the back of his head.
"Are you enjoying this?" Ishi whispered, kissing his face again in that distracting way. Hakkai closed his eyes.
"Do you want me to?"
Ishi didn't say anything for a moment. He tightened his arm around Hakkai's waist and let out a shuddery breath.
"Stupid," he muttered in Hakkai's ear, and then Hakkai felt his teeth graze at his neck. "What the hell kind of answer is that?"
"What kind of answer would you like?"
"Jesus. Okay."
His voice sounded as soft as the falling water, like he didn't care, but it was shaking too. He took Hakkai's hand and curled it round his cock, so they were touching each other at the same time. For some reason Hakkai had forgotten that he was supposed to be getting Ishi off, too lost in his own feelings. Hakkai stared at his mouth, then put a finger to it, gasping when Ishi closed his teeth on the soft pad of flesh, sucking at it.
"I am," Hakkai said.
Enjoying this. He slid his arm tight round Ishi's neck and thrust into his hand, closing his eyes tight and letting himself move hard and fast, forgetting to be careful. He didn't need to hold back. He heard Ishi's soft laugh, as if he understood everything. Hakkai hated having to explain himself.
Hakkai found himself pulled further under the falling water. It washed away the soap until he was touching Ishi's bare skin.
"I want you to come on me," Ishi muttered, hot breath in his ear, mouth pressing to his skin, anywhere he could reach.
"Oh, please. Yes."
Ishi's thighs were taut and his muscles were stiffening under Hakkai's hands. He was tipping back, arching up and pulling Hakkai even closer, so their hips bumped together. Hakkai tried to breathe. He pressed his forehead to Ishi's shoulder and looked down, watching their hands move on each other, closer and tighter and faster.
He tried to separate everything out, but failed: Ishi's teeth on his neck, the water pounding on his heated skin, the small, soft moans of pleasure. He was so hard under Hakkai's hand, like something made of steel. He fitted just right. Hakkai squeezed, struggling to keep his hand moving in a proper rhythm.
"I meant to clean you with my mouth," he whispered, staring down, and then he came, arching forward, painting Ishi's stomach with streaks of white, hearing Ishi's breathing getting ragged and harsh, feeling him shaking.
It was hard to make his hand work properly then, or do anything except lean on warm, solid skin. He felt Ishi's hand curl round his own, until he drew in a sharp hissing breath and pulsed over Hakkai's fingers. He stared down, watching the white streaks disappear, washed away by the water before he could touch them.
Hakkai didn't remember turning the water off. It must've been Ishi. He tugged Hakkai over to the couch and pushed him down, slicking the water from Hakkai's hair.
Hakkai woke up sometime later, feeling heavy and slow, almost doped up. He realised that he was wrapped in the clean towel. He lay for a few moments staring up at the tiny window high in the far wall, not wanting to move. The sky was dark blue, hazed with yellow streetlamps. Ishi. He sat up too quickly, craning round to look at the room. It was empty. He got to his feet and pattered over to the changing area, pulling the towel round him like a shawl.
"Hi," Ishi said. He was sitting naked on the bench, reading one of the tacky celebrity magazines that one of the boys on the front desk brought in every week. He put it down when he saw Hakkai. "They didn't bring my clothes back yet," he said.
His eyes were wide and Hakkai saw the nervous flex of his throat, as if Hakkai might order him to leave just as he was, naked. Hakkai pulled the towel more tightly round himself and sat down next to him on the bench.
"Have you got somewhere to go?" Hakkai said. "Apart from your car?"
The magazine slithered to the floor. It fell open on a nearly naked picture of a film star. Hakkai nudged it away with his toe while Ishi failed to answer.
"Because I have a place," he went on. "You could stay for free."
"Nothing's free."
"Well, that's a good point." He tapped his toes in small puddle of water near Ishi's feet. "Would you have more sex with me? I can help you find your brother."
Ishi picked up the magazine and folded it neatly, then stacked it on top of the pile of others. His knee touched Hakkai's and Hakkai could feel his body heat, warming him all along his side.
"Yeah," Ishi said. "Okay."