Saiyuki (Nii/Gojyo)

[rhosyn-du.livejournal.com]

Title: So, a Kappa Walks Into a Bar
Author: rhosyn_du
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Prompt: July 8 - 55. Saiyuki, Nii/Anyone: Helplessness - "all I'm asking is to be overcome"
A/N: Many, many thanks to andmydog and mellow_dk for the beta help.

It wasn't Gojyo's usual bar. It was bigger, darker, and altogether less friendly. His boot stuck to the floor as he shifted in his seat. Stuck to what, he was pretty sure he didn't want to know. His eyes strained to see through air so thick with smoke he could almost pretend it made up for the fact that he didn't have any cigarettes of his own.

It was exactly where he wanted to be.

He threw a glance over at the raucous poker game taking place toward the center of the room. Another hour, he figured, before they'd be drunk enough for him to join in. They were probably drunk enough already that they wouldn't notice him cheating, but he'd be better off still if they were so wasted that they wouldn't remember his face in the morning. It wasn't Gojyo's preferred methodology by a long shot, but he was pretty desperate for cash.

It hadn't exactly surprised him that Banri'd swiped the grocery money off the top of the fridge when he took off, but the bastard had somehow managed to find the cash Gojyo kept stashed in that empty condom box in the back of his underwear drawer. He'd also taken Gojyo's last pack of smokes. Fucker.

Gojyo started as a mug of beer settled in front of him with a heavy thunk. What the hell? He hadn't ordered any beer, and he sure as hell didn't have the money to pay for one.

He glanced up, intending to tell the waitress she'd gotten the wrong table, but the guy who'd dropped the beer in front of him was definitely not either of the pretty blonde barmaids. Hell, he didn't really look like the kind of guy who belonged in a place like this at all. Sure, his clothes were wrinkled and could stand to be washed, but they were expensive. Gojyo could tell. Expensive, just like the half-smoked cigarette that dangled from between his smirking lips.

He didn't say anything, just dropped into a chair across the table and proceeded to sip his own beer as though he'd been invited.

"Did you want something?" Gojyo asked after several moments of silence.

The man smiled in a way that set Gojyo's teeth on edge, stubbing out the end of his cigarette. "You looked like you could use a drink."

There was a long moment of silence as Gojyo tried to figure out what, exactly, was going on here. It was hardly the first time a stranger had bought his beer, but usually the stranger buying his beer was someone who'd just beaten the pants off him at cards, or someone who thought he was about to. Never someone like this guy, and what the hell was he looking so amused for, anyway?

"You also looked like you could use some company."

Looked like... Oh, fuck, no.

"You've got the wrong idea." Gojyo was willing to be polite. The guy had bought him a beer, after all.

"Oh? Should I have left out the beer, then?"

"Look," Gojyo said, annoyed, "I don't do guys."

The man quirked a disbelieving eyebrow over dark, oddly empty eyes. Something about those eyes made Gojyo feel very young. Hunted. Small, and Gojyo hadn't felt that small in a very long time.

"I don't do guys I pick up in bars," he amended. He thought maybe it would've been more convincing if he'd made any attempt to move the hand that was suddenly resting, heavy and warm, on his thigh.

"Actually," the man said, leaning close enough that Gojyo could almost taste the stale tobacco on his breath and damn but he wanted a cigarette, "I'm picking you up, but if you'd like to pretend it's the other way around, you can buy my next drink."

"Asshole." Even if he'd had the money to spare, Gojyo sure as hell wouldn't be spending it on some scruffy bastard who couldn't even muster up enough decency to offer a guy a smoke.

"Unquestionably," the man agreed, his smile widening. Somehow, no matter how wide that smile got, it never seemed to reveal teeth. Like everything else about the man, it was seriously unsettling.

"Perhaps instead you'd like to join me outside? For a cigarette."

Every instinct Gojyo had was telling him to run, or maybe just punch the guy in the face. Instead, he found his eyes drawn to where long, slender fingers were retrieving a pack of smokes from the man's front pocket.

Gojyo licked his lips, glanced again at the poker game.

"Yeah," he heard himself say. "That sounds good."

The flick of a lighter, and then the man was heading toward the side door, trailing a cloud of fresh smoke.

For almost a whole second, Gojyo considered leaving, going out the front and finding himself a different poker game. He was on his feet, following the fading cloud of smoke before he even realized he'd made a decision.

If he ignored the bags of garbage just outside the door, Gojyo could almost have called the alley clean. Cleaner than the bar, anyway, which probably wasn't saying much. Outside the bar's heavy stench of booze and sweat, the scent of burning tobacco was clearer. Gojyo inhaled deeply, wanting.

The man watched Gojyo from where he stood leaned up against one wall, exhaled in an exaggerated puff. His lips closed tight around the end of his cigarette as he took another drag.

Gojyo sagged against the wall. He wasn't gonna ask.

The man stepped closer, an amused smirk playing across his lips. "Don't you smoke?"

Gojyo scowled. "Fuck you."

"Mm. Not exactly what I had in mind."

If Gojyo had been paying closer attention, he would have seen it coming. If it hadn't been for the taste of cigarettes, sharp and bitter, on the man's tongue, he would have pulled away.

That taste was a tease, not really what Gojyo wanted at all, but so close that he couldn't stop himself from wanting more, from taking more. Not until he felt an insistent knee slide between his legs, deft fingers on the button of his fly.

That was also about the time he realized he had his back pressed up against the wall.

Gojyo jerked violently away from the kiss. "What--"

And then he had to stop talking, because suddenly there was a cigarette in his mouth, and for a few seconds, nothing else mattered. Smoke filled his lungs--so fucking good--just as a hand wrapped around his cock.

Gojyo made a small noise that wasn't quite a gasp because that would have made him drop the cigarette, and when the hell had his hands gotten pinned, anyway? It was hard to think, the glorious feel of nicotine flooding his body, his hips thrusting involuntarily into that hand, and Gojyo realized he didn't want to be thinking.

So much easier that way. Easy to overlook the scrape of brick against his shoulder as he was turned to face the wall. Easy to ignore the cold air against his skin, the faint sting as he pressed back against a hard, slick cock. Easy to get lost in smoking and fucking and just feeling good.

It was harder not to think later, staring at the still-smoldering remains of his cigarette where it had fallen when he'd come, re-fastening his pants with hands that had been scraped raw against the brick. Harder still when he couldn't quite get his fingers to work well enough to light the cigarette the man silently handed him and he had to let the guy light it for him.

The man stopped at the end of the alley, turned to glance over one shoulder. "Good luck with your game," he said, still smiling that damn unsettling smile.

"Yeah." Gojyo shrugged uncomfortably. "Thanks."

He'd smoked half his cigarette before he realized the bastard had walked off with his lighter.