Yohji let out a long-suffering sigh and flicked ash off his cigarette. The club was full, the music loud and Aya looked absolutely stunning. Head to foot in clinging black, well-muscled arms gleaming in a sleeveless shirt. A belt hung loosely around his lean hips, decorated with little dangling steel rings and secured by a large metal buckle.
The black made his hair seem more vivid red than ever, his skin even paler.
This should all have made Yohji feel happy beyond words.
"Dance," said Aya.
But Yohji was miserable.
Aya gave Yohji's leash a firm tug, and dragged him to the dance floor.
But it wasn't the leash that bothered him, or the choice of club, with its predominance of leather and kink, and the quiet edge of risk. Yohji was all for fostering Aya's experimental side.
Hell, just having Aya ask him out on an actual out-of-the-house date was exciting. Or it would have been.
But this wasn't a date.
It was a mission.
"I feel cheap," Yohji complained, standing sulkily at Aya's side.
He was dressed in skin-tight pants and a silver mesh top that fell off one shoulder. The lead was attached to a collar with 'property of A' embossed on it. Judging by the glances he was attracting from other men on the dance floor he looked as sexy as fuck. But for once, he wasn't in the mood to admit it.
Aya tugged harder on the leash and snarled. "Kudoh!"
Yohji's knees went a little weak, despite himself. Being Aya's puppy would have made him all kinds of happy, if it had truly been for Aya. But it wasn't. It was for Kritiker. Just another cover for some twisted mission.
Aya pulled him in close, and brushed his lips over Yohji's ear.
"Who's the target then?" Yohji grumbled.
Aya wilted a little. "I don't know."
"What d'you mean, you don't know?"
"He's not here. Just dance, Kudoh."
"What's he look like, then?"
"Shut up. Or do you want me to fit this with a choke chain?" He tugged on the leash again.
Yohji gave up. Still not willing to play the game wholeheartedly, he resisted the urge to drop to his knees and whimper apologetically at Aya's feet. But he danced. Aya wound the lead a little tighter around his wrist, drawing Yohji closer, until they were pressed hip-to-hip, and Yohji could have cried from the frustration of not being able to strip him bare and fuck him right there on the dance floor.
He was fairly certain that was exactly what the couple up near the stage were doing. One of them was wearing little cat ears and a tail. Envy stabbed deep: they really were out to have fun. No killing for them. Just a bit of dress up, a bit of play and a good fuck.
Not fair. Not fair at all.
"So what is he?" Yohji asked. "Some pervert? Drug dealer? Religious freak on a mission to stamp out kink the world over?"
Aya let out a hiss of exasperation and pulled away. He stormed back to the bar, dragging Yohji with him.
"Ow!" Yohji rubbed at his neck. "It's not an unfair question under the circumstances, oh mighty leader. They give us briefings for a reason. It's not my fault I slept through it the first time."
Aya fiercely ignored him, hitching himself on to a bar stool. He clipped Yohji's lead onto one of the rings on his belt. "Down." He clicked his fingers and pointed to the floor.
Yohji glared defiance at him, earning a chuckle from the barman.
Aya looked mad. Really mad. Yohji sank to his knees, head drooping obediently. Aya was right, of course. They were undercover, shouldn't be making themselves memorable. He should play his part and stop fucking around.
Whiskey arrived in a little metal dog bowl, but Yohji hesitated to drink it. It might have felt kinky and erotic in other circumstances, but right now it just felt stupid. He couldn't wait to get the whole thing over with and go home, where he could drink (out of a glass, or maybe a bottle) until he was shitfaced enough not to care any more.
Aya drank slowly, sipping at something the colour of treacle that clinked with ice, and refused to meet Yohji's eye. Watching the door. For the target.
"Next time, Ken can wear the leash," Yohji muttered, careful that the barman didn't hear.
Aya didn't say anything.
Yohji eyed the whiskey. It smelled good.
He sniffed at it.
He could feel Aya watching him.
He got onto his hands and knees.
Aya's leg was trembling. His boot was clicked firmly into the rung of the barstool but there was a nervous bounce.
Yohji drank. Lapping the cool liquid into his mouth, the very tips of his hair trailing in the bowl. The scotch filled his senses, warmed his belly and took the edge off his disappointment. Just a bit.
He looked up at Aya, eyes round and green, face as innocent as he could make it, and said:
If he'd had a tail it would have wagged.
But Aya was anything but pleased. He looked horrified. Angry. Furious. He ripped the lead from his belt, threw it at Yohji and bolted.
At first Yohji just stared at the door that still swung in Aya's wake, not quite able to believe what had just happened. Eventually he got to his feet, left enough cash on the bar to cover a tip for the barman and left.
He found Aya standing on the pavement just outside the club, shrugging his arms into his coat.
"Don't," said Aya.
"Don't what? What about the mission? Aya?"
"Leave me alone."
Aya stormed down the road, Yohji trailing in his wake.
"Aya? What the fuck happened?"
Then Yohji snapped, the trials of the evening catching up with him in the face of Aya's stupid, stubborn behaviour. He grabbed Aya's arm and slammed him up against a nearby wall, pinning him there by the shoulders.
"What the fuck's going on? What happened back there to make you toss the mission?"
Aya didn't fight back. He let himself be pinned, chewing nervously on his lower lip for all that his eyes were bright defiance.
Yohji gave him a little shake. "Come on! We don't have much time, the target-"
Aya muttered something that Yohji didn't quite catch, and his gaze slid away towards the ground.
"There is no target," Aya said, barely audible.
Aya shoved him away. "There was no mission. I just..." Aya shrugged, eyes still fixed on the ground, embarrassed, oh God, Aya was embarrassed, and things started to fall into place.
Aya pushed past him and broke into a run.
Aya could be damn fast when he wanted to be, and he'd reached the Koneko by the time Yohji caught up with him. Yohji chased him up the stairs, throwing a reassuring smile in the direction of a surprised Aya-chan on the landing before following Aya into their room and slamming the door shut behind him.
"Shit!" Yohji leaned back against the door, breathing hard. At least Aya had come home. Last time he'd run off, after some stupid row about something or other, Yohji had lost him somewhere in the maze of Tokyo streets and he hadn't come home 'til morning.
Yohji have him a long look. He was pulling his boots off. He didn't look happy at all.
"Start at the beginning, Aya. What's going on?"
Aya glowered at him. Extreme emotion of any kind seemed to render Aya mute. Shit, but the man was high maintenance.
His hair was sticking to his cheek, one scarlet strand, damp and pointing towards his mouth. Yohji swallowed hard.
High maintenance, but worth it. So, so worth it.
"It's okay," Yohji soothed.
Aya glowered a little harder, and peeled off his coat. He tossed it on a nearby chair and ran his fingers through his hair. The shirt he was wearing clung to his body, revealing the shifting muscles of his arms and shoulders, and the little metal hoops on his belt danced as he moved.
"I'm sorry," Aya ground out, so quiet that Yohji barely caught the words.
"There was no mission?" said Yohji.
"I thought you'd like it. I was wrong."
Aya looked painfully awkward. Yohji half expected him to bolt again. "Let's get this straight." Yohji stalked towards him, his heart racing. He risked reaching out and touching, his fingers sliding down Aya's upper arm towards his elbow. "You lied about the whole mission thing to get me in this?" He jangled the leash; the little bells on his collar sang.
"I don't want to talk about it, just-"
He turned around, but Yohji didn't let go, stroking his hand around to Aya's middle and pulling him back. He nuzzled Aya's ear. "You did that for me?"
"Yes," said Aya uncertainly. He struggled briefly and half-heartedly to get away, but Yohji held him fast.
"It turns you on, "Yohji continued. He turned Aya around and touched the collar at his throat, fingertips glancing over black leather. "This turns you on."
Aya licked his lips, eyes dancing nervously towards the collar. "Yes."
"And you think I don't like it?"
"You made it perfectly clear. Shit, Yohji, stop this. Can't we just-"
Yohji grabbed Aya's hand and pulled it to his groin, pressing it against the hard, eager flesh trapped behind the leather. "Does it feel like I don't like it?"
Aya's eyes went wide. His fingers curled around the bulge in Yohji's trousers. "But you-"
Yohji didn't let him finish. He kissed him, hard, his tongue plunging into Aya's mouth, fingers tangling in his hair. Hot and breathless, stealing thought.
"But," Aya panted, "in the club..."
"I thought it was a mission." Yohji brushed his lips along Aya's jaw, then gently nipped his earlobe. "Just a mission. I didn't know you really wanted this."
Aya hadn't stopped touching him, fingers rubbing his dick rhythmically through the leather. Yohji wondered if he realised he was doing it.
"I thought you'd laugh at me," Aya confessed. "I thought-"
"Stop thinking, Aya." Yohji fumbled for the end of the leash and pressed it into Aya's free hand. "Yours."
Then he clamped his mouth over Aya's neck, licking the skin with one broad swipe of his tongue, then sucking it quickly to a bruise, while Aya moaned and fisted his hand in Yohji's hair.
"Bad dog," mumbled Aya. "No biting."
Yohji let go immediately, dropped to his knees, head down, and whined softly.
"Oh God." Aya reached out and stroked Yohji's hair. "Oh God. You don't have to-"
Yohji looked up. "Please," he said.
Then he stuck his tongue out and panted eagerly.
Aya burst out laughing. A rich, infectious laugh that Yohji couldn't help but join in with.
Aya squatted down in front of Yohji, winding the lead thoughtfully around his hand. "To be honest," he said, "I don't even know how this works. It seemed like a good idea when I read about it, the kind of thing you might like, but it was different, once we were there. It didn't, wasn't, it wasn't right."
"I was being an ass. It wasn't your fault." And then: "you really did this for me?"
Yohji smiled, in fact he beamed. The idea that Aya would think up something like this and do it for him made him feel warm inside.
"And you read about it?"
"I did some research, yes." Aya's tone suggested that he could see no difference between educating himself on kinky sex and preparing for a mission. "But it's not the same. It makes sense when you read the accounts and so on, but in reality-"
"You didn't like it so much." Yohji couldn't hide a tang of disappointment, and could have kicked himself soundly for not being more co-operative back in the club. "It's okay, if it doesn't turn you on-"
"It's not that," Aya said quickly. "Not at all, it's just that... it doesn't feel right to treat you like a dog, that's all. I care about you."
"You don't mind spanking me," Yohji observed.
"That's different." Aya didn't elucidate on how, exactly, it was different. He knelt on the floor, worrying at the leash in his hand, Yohji kneeling opposite him. Their knees almost, but not quite, touched.
"I don't want to humiliate you," Aya said softly. "I respect you."
"You think that's what this is about?" Aya gave a tiny shrug. Yohji touched his arm, fingertips stroking his smooth, pale skin, lingering on a freckle near his wrist. "It's just a game, Aya."
Aya's shoulders relaxed a tiny bit.
"Besides," Yohji continued, "there's nothing humiliating about being a dog. Dogs are noble creatures. Loyal, faithful, trustworthy, obedient..."
Aya raised an eyebrow.
"What?" said Yohji.
"What exactly makes you think you'd make a good dog?"
His voice was lighter; the tension was fading from him, bit by bit.
"So, maybe I need a little training." Yohji risked his sexiest, most hopeful grin.
Aya's tongue darted out to lick his lower lip. "Training?"
"Yeah." Yohji planted his hands on the floor either side of Aya's thighs and raised himself onto all fours. He licked Aya's arm, circling the freckle with his tongue. "Training. Break all my bad habits. Make me your puppy."
Aya swallowed hard. "Mine?"
Yohji nodded, not taking his big green eyes off Aya for a second.
"Oh God," Aya muttered, scrambling to his feet. "Wait there, I mean, wait, no, stay." He gathered himself to his full, imposing, Fujimiya height and dropped the lead to the floor. He pointed a finger at Yohji. "Stay."
Yohji grinned. "Yes, Sensei." And he did, kneeling absolutely still, watching curiously as Aya rummaged around in the bedside drawer. Lube was located and tossed to the floor, which Yohji found very promising indeed, but it wasn't all Aya was looking for. After further rummaging and a small amount of cursing, Aya finally triumphed.
He returned to Yohji with a wicked hint of a grin on his face, and a bar of chocolate in his hand.
Yohji had always loved chocolate.
Aya stood in front of him, weight on one hip, unwrapping the chocolate slowly. A vision in crimson and leather. It was all Yohji could do to keep from drooling.
Aya picked up the end of the leash, wrapping it securely around his wrist. He stroked Yohji's hair.
Yohji stretched, holding his arms above his head just long enough for Aya to appreciate the glimpse of taut belly that was thus revealed. Then he reached down and caught the hem of his shirt with crossed arms, torturing Aya with the inch-by-inch revelation of his golden skin.
Aya watched, his usual mostly-stern expression perfect for his role. His eyes fixed on Yohji in calm appraisal.
The shirt slid down the strip of leather that bound them together, landing in a bunch around Aya's wrist. He deftly dispensed with it, pausing for just a moment to trail his fingers appreciatively across Yohji's abs. It tickled but Yohji basked in the touch nonetheless.
Then he reached down and unbuttoned his pants. Nothing underneath, of course.
"Turn around," said Aya.
Yohji obediently turned, and stuck his backside out with just the barest little wiggle. He slipped his pants halfway over the lush curve of his arse.
He glanced over his shoulder at Aya, who stepped up behind him and stroked him, cleanly down his spine, then either side, finally delivering a firm pat to each buttock. Yohji wriggled out of his jeans.
"Good Kudoh," Aya said, and slipped a square of chocolate into Yohji's mouth.
"Woof," said Yohji, wiggling back into Aya's groin. He was hard as iron, they both were.
Aya snorted. But his hand was sliding steadily south across Yohji's belly, and his tongue was wet as it stroked the curve of Yohji's ear. Then he moved away. "Kudoh."
Yohji twisted around to look at him. He held another square of chocolate between finger and thumb.
"Roll over," said Aya.
Yohji flopped onto his back, smiling up at him. Aya put his socked foot on Yohji's tummy and dropped the chocolate into his mouth. "Back on your knees," he said. "Here." Pointing at his feet.
"Very good." Aya tossed him another square of chocolate, which Yohji deftly caught between his teeth.
Aya's fingers glanced over the buckle of his belt. Yohji's cock twitched hopefully. This was all good fun, but he had been hard for a long time now and his balls were starting to complain.
There was a clink of metal and the slow but steady grind of Aya's zipper. Yohji watched, chocolate still melting on his tongue, as Aya undid his trousers, peeled them back and slid his hand into his underwear.
He stared even harder as Aya tugged his cock out of the slit in his boxers.
"Lick it," Aya said, his voice hoarse.
Yohji shuffled up close, darted out his tongue and lashed at the head. He felt a tremble shoot through Aya's body and allowed himself a smug grin.
"Suck it," Aya whispered, and then as Yohji opened his mouth and let Aya feed his cock into it, he added, "get it good and wet."
Yohji's cock lurched. He closed his eyes and began to suck; working his way down inch after inch of Aya's smooth, hard dick until his mouth was full and his nose pressed hard into Aya's belly.
He backed off a little. He felt Aya's fingers slip into his mouth as well, tasted something sweet. Chocolate. Aya had popped another square of chocolate on his tongue and oh, shit, his fingers were still there, sliding along his own cock as Yohji sucked and licked it. His mouth was full of cock and chocolate and shifting fingers and he could feel spit dribbling down his chin.
"Good Kudoh," Aya whispered, his voice so tight it might have sounded cruel to anyone who didn't know him. "Now let me have your arse."
Yohji whimpered; it felt too good, his mouth full of thick and sweet, and he didn't want it to stop.
"Kudoh," Aya growled. "You want more, don't you?"
Yohji nodded, still sucking hard on Aya's cock. Aya's pelvis was already making little surging movements, a sure sign his body wanted to come.
"Then do as you're told. Turn around and spread yourself for me."
Yohji took his mouth from Aya's dick with a loud slurping noise, pausing only to lick it clean before he turned around. Another smack on his arse and then Yohji heard the unmistakable sound of the lube bottle being flicked open.
Aya's fingers were wet and cool; they slid carefully, easily inside him, opening him up, stretching him. Yohji dipped his spine, raising his hips towards those thrusting fingers, tilting to get the right angle.
"That's good," Aya murmured, and took his fingers away. "You're ready for me, aren't you?"
"Aya, please," Yohji whined.
"Alright then." And Yohji felt something hot and blunt and firm press against his hole. "Seeing as you're such a good Kudoh..."
Aya shoved inside him, slipping in easily in one long slide. He groaned as he did it, his voice finally ending on a hoarse squeak as his balls smacked into Yohji's.
The collar around Yohji's neck twitched as Aya gave the leash a little tug.
"Oh God," Yohji murmured. "Oh shit."
"Alright?" Aya stroked his hair, trembling fingers tracing the outline of his ear, tickling his neck.
"Fuck me," Yohji begged. "Please fuck me."
"Lick my hand."
Yohji obediently stuck out his tongue and swiped it across Aya's palm. Next thing he knew, Aya's damp hand was curling around his cock, settling straight into a firm, strong rhythm that Yohji knew couldn't last for long.
He didn't care. It felt too good. On his hands and knees, stuffed full of Aya's cock, Aya's fingers slipping between his lips to fill his mouth - more chocolate - and his dick throbbing in Aya's fist. It was bliss.
Besides, Aya was already fucking him strong and deep, like he meant it. He probably wouldn't last long either.
Yohji sucked wetly on Aya's fingers, and let himself fuck back. Thought fled, and he lost himself in it, stroke after stroke after glorious, fucking stroke.
"Come," said Aya, and Yohji just had time to think that it was a tall order, to come just because Aya had told him to, when he realised that he was. His body clenched tight all over for a single instant, so intense it was almost painful, and then Aya covered Yohji's cock with his whole hand, pressing it tight against Yohji's belly. Yohji yelled and came, the mess of semen warm against his skin, spurting through Aya's fingers.
"Oh, fuck," Aya yelled, and Yohji, still lost in his own orgasm, felt Aya twitch inside him, everything suddenly loose and wet and slick, and Yohji realised he was yelling, loud enough for people to hear, and didn't care.
After that, once Aya had pulled away and his legs went to jelly, Yohji collapsed on his back the floor, with a stupid grin on his face. Aya slumped, exhausted, next to him. Yohji thought he might have heard him chuckling as he snagged a handful of tissues from the box beside the bed.
A fucked, happy Aya was such a beautiful thing. Yohji could stare at him for hours when he was like this. Hours and hours.
But he was sticky, and getting cold. It would make much more sense to get into bed first.
"You got gloop on me," he complained, trailing his fingers in the thickening puddles on his belly.
"It's your gloop," said Aya happily.
"Pass me a tissue?"
Aya considered this, and finally decided that Yohji was entitled to a little help. He plucked more tissues and dropped them on Yohji's stomach. After a moment's hesitation he even helped Yohji to mop up.
He watched Yohji's face as he did it, smiling a little, dabbing softly at Yohji's tummy. Yohji grinned back foolishly.
"We should get into bed," said Aya, trying (not entirely successfully) to be gruff and businesslike. He tossed the tissues into the wastebasket.
Yohji weighed up the pros and cons of doing that, and seriously contemplated a life lying on a tatami mat for a while, before his goosepimpling flesh made a nice warm quilt sound appealing enough to justify moving. Aya was already up, shoving their clothes into a pile in the corner. By the time he got back to the bed, Yohji was in it, and already mostly asleep.
"Collar, Yohji," he whispered, and Yohji made a feeble attempt at undoing the buckle with fingers that couldn't be bothered.
Aya helped him, gently unclasping the bright steel catch and slipping the leather away from his neck.
"Thanks," Yohji murmured, still smiling.
Aya dropped the collar and lead neatly into the box underneath the bed, and lay down to sleep with Yohji curled up at his side.