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Business as Usual	By : laurabryannan Category: +S to Z > Samurai Champloo Views: 5366 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Business as Usual, III
by
Laura Bryannan

Ryu-san exited the elevator into the deserted
parking structure and spotted his prey unlocking his car. Takeda-san
heard the footsteps and turned to face him, eying his pursuer warily.

“What do you want?”

“You left
without saying goodbye,” Ryu-san pouted, enjoying himself
immensely. He made a grab for Takeda-san, who side-stepped without
effort, then attempted to kick Ryu-san's feet out from under him.
That move was neatly parried and they faced each other, growling,
crouched in battle stance. Ryu-san found the lack of fear in
Takeda-san's eyes unexpected and disappointing.

They sparred
for a minute or so, working up a sweat, neither gaining ground. The
guy's fucking fast, Ryu-san thought. And how come I never
noticed he's taller than me? Takeda-san remained calm, blocking
him effectively, and Ryu-san began to get pissed off. Perhaps that's
why his next strike missed its target, leaving himself wide open.
Takeda-san's fist connected with his temple and he knew pain, then
felt himself slammed into the wall, arm pinned behind his back.

Takeda-san shoved his thigh between his own, raking his hip
seductively against his cock. The barbell in Ryu-san's left nipple
made it an easy target, and Takeda-san twisted it cruelly. Not to be
outdone, Ryu-san popped a few buttons shoving his hand inside
Takeda-san's shirt, and discovered the steel ring in his nipple. He
pulled it, rubbing his thumb along the sensitive nub, and smirked in
satisfaction as Takeda-san hissed.

Their hips were locked
together, grinding, striving for purchase. Ryu-san instinctively
sought his lover's mouth, needing to taste and bite, but Takeda-san
turned his face aside. Frustrated, he latched onto Takeda-san's neck
instead, and began to suck up the mother of all hickeys. I'm gonna
have a black eye to explain tomorrow, he thought. Might as
well return the favor. Not to be outdone, Takeda-san sank his
teeth into Ryu-san's shoulder and bit with all his strength, while
continuing to roll and pinch his nipple mercilessly.

Ryu-san
whimpered. It hurt like a bitch, but damn, it was making him super
hot! The fucker was topping him and he didn't even care. None of the
pretty boys he'd chased and caught in the past had mustered
resistance like this, and he felt achingly aroused. Takeda-san backed
away for a fraction of a second, and suddenly Ryu-san's belt was
undone and a hand was down his boxers, gripping him firmly.

“Need
someone to show you how, little man?” Takeda-san challenged,
stroking efficiently. Ryu-san bit his tongue to keep from groaning.
He shoved back and they grappled. Takeda-san was unable to keep
Ryu-san's hand from invading his pants and working his own cock with
equal effectiveness.

“You been waitin' for someone like
me all your life, haven't you sweetface?” Ryu-san grinned,
pulling on Takeda-san's foreskin and working the head in a way that
made him cry out.

Takeda-san stroked harder in retaliation,
and enjoyed the writhing it produced. “Boys like you can never
keep it up,” he taunted, trying to keep his own reactions in
check, but not succeeding.

“You're gonna cum for me,
aren't you bitch?” Ryu-san whispered huskily, and felt
Takeda-san's body shudder. His hand was slick with precum, so he knew
Takeda-san was close. Unfortunately, he was too. And damn, the guy
was doing that! He tried to think of his obnoxious
ex-girlfriend, his parole officer...anything...but it wasn't enough
to keep the sensations from overwhelming him.

“That
wouldn't be polite. Ladies first,” Takeda-san purred, feeling
the tension building in his rival's body. If he could manage to hold
out a minute longer, he knew he'd win, but it was going to be close.
They struggled together, gasping and moaning, losing sight of the
battle at the last, aware only of the heat and pleasure they were
receiving at each other's hand.

When Ryu-san came first,
Takeda-san exulted for all of two seconds before releasing himself.
They leaned together, panting, each appreciating the scent of the
other and the heft of the weapon they held. For a few moments, there
was contentment and balance between them...perhaps even admiration.
They both noticed and wondered at it.

Ryu-san broke the spell
by pulling his hand out of Takeda-san's shorts. He looked him in the
eye and leisurely licked his fingers clean, hoping to goad Takeda-san
into a similar performance. Takeda-san waited for him to finish, then
slid his fingers into Ryu-san's mouth.

“You still look
hungry,” Takeda-san intoned, smiling evilly. “Take care
of this for me.”

He regretted his action immediately,
however, for Ryu-san's tongue did a thorough job and he began to
harden again. And when Ryu-san arrogantly swallowed his fingers he
gasped in spite of himself and jerked his hand back as if he'd stuck
it in a flame.

Turning away quickly, he headed to his car,
readjusting his clothes on the way. The insufferable shit was
laughing again and he was sure he was blushing.

“Am I
gonna see you again, pretty boy?” Ryu-san called out.

“Fuck
you,” came the reply.

“No, fuck you,”
Ryu-san insisted. Takeda-san gave him a sidelong glare as he got in
his car and drove off.

Ryu-san watched him go, too languid to
move. Thinking about the scene was getting him hard again. Damn! The
guy was like a drug or something. He wasn't done and wanted more. He
sighed and fumbled in his breast pocket for his smokes. Lighting one
with a shaking hand, he wondered if it would look overeager to call
the stuck-up dork tomorrow.

------------------------------

There was nothing to be done. No matter
what he wore, the hickeys would show. He wasn't sure how Yuki was
going to take such lurid evidence of his...yes, it felt like
infidelity, even though they'd broken up over a year ago, and it had
all been Yuki's fault last night happened in the first place.

His
crew noticed right away. Smiling grimly at the whistles and howls, he
walked through the shop to his office, cursing himself for feeling so
embarrassed. Yuki was sitting at his desk, and Jin handed him
Takahashi-san's business card.

“Operations at Okinawa
Development,” Jin told him. “Call her and she'll finalize
the deal with us. The account is your baby, Yuki. I don't want to
have anything to do with this company. Anyone calls, and I mean
anyone—even if it's the fucking CEO—you handle it.”

Yuki nodded solemnly, concerned by Jin's bitter tone. But
when he spied the bruises on Jin's neck he felt concerned for other
reasons. “Well, someone had fun last night,” he snapped
angrily.

Jin rounded on him, glaring. “Fun, Yuki? Far
from it.” Hot as fucking hell maybe, but not fun.

Yuki
frowned, and then an awareness began to dawn. “Oh no. Jin,
don't tell me you had to...uh...whore for this account. With that
man.... You didn't, did you?”

“It was required.
Why do you think I didn't want to go?”

“But I....
Oh shit!” Yuki stammered, his jealousy turning to mortification
instantly. “Jin, I'm really sorry. Why didn't you tell me? I
didn't know.”

Jin sighed and reached for his ex, who
came into his arms willingly. “Just do as I ask next time,”
he murmured. Yuki continued to apologize until Jin put a finger to
his lips. “Enough. It's all right. I made the choice to go in
the end, and the experience was...interesting.” To say the
least, he thought. Last night had been so disturbing, he was
still reeling from it.

Even afterward in the quiet of his
apartment he'd found no peace. He took off his suit, but could still
smell Ryu-san's cologne. Ryu-san's most private scent was all over
his hand, and he couldn't keep from holding it near his face to
breathe it in. Musky and dark, it caused a reaction in his pants
every time he did.

Angry at his lack of self-control, he
finally took a shower and scrubbed himself thoroughly, trying to wash
away every molecule of the guy's essence. Then he stroked himself to
orgasm imagining Ryu-san beneath him, writhing with pleasure as he
took every inch Jin had to give and begged for more.

Yes,
Ryu-san blew up his life last night—razing everything in his
emotional landscape to rubble. Thus bereft, Jin yearned for the
familiar sweetness of his oldest and dearest friend. Comrades since
childhood, they trained at the same dojo, studied after school
together, and finally discovered sex together. Like two pieces of a
puzzle, they seemed a perfect fit.

But somewhere along the
way boredom ensued. Yuki was smart, funny, easygoing...and utterly,
mind-numbingly predictable. Over the years Jin withdrew more and
more. Love a few times a day became a few times a week, and then a
few times a month. Yuki had taken it well when he finally announced
he was moving out—by that point they were more roommates than
lovers anyway—and, miraculously, they continued to work
effectively together.

And so matters remained...until last
night. Trying to make the break a clean one, Jin had kept his
distance, and they had not made love since he walked out. He was
aware how much Yuki still cared, and felt guilt about leading him on.
It wouldn't be right to give Yuki false hope, but he was feeling
needy and afraid.

Carding his fingers into Yuki's hair, he
pulled him into a kiss, finding the taste and style just as he
remembered. His relief was palpable. Yuki's body was trembling, and
Jin felt safe and sheltered, as if he'd come home. Yes, yes, this he
knew, this he loved. Maybe everything would be all right.

Their
kiss heated up, Jin growling and Yuki sighing as they opened wider
and explored deeper. But when Yuki began to expertly palm his crotch,
Jin broke the kiss and pulled Yuki's hand away, smiling ruefully. His
office was no place for a tryst. He was amazed the kids had left them
alone this long.

“May I come over tonight?” Jin
whispered.

Yuki's looked surprised, but his eyes were
shining. “Really? You sure?”

“Yes.”

Yuki smiled. “Well, the place is a wreck but, yeah, I'd
like that.” Jin nodded, and they parted with a quick smooch.

Jin thought he was home free until, later that day, he caught
himself sniffing for any remnants of his tormentor's scent on his
fingers, and feeling disappointed to find none.

-------------------------

Ryu-san was pissed. How had he lost the
battle? Playing the scene over and over in his head, he couldn't put
his finger on where it went wrong. The next morning the mirror
snickered at the garish bruise around his eye. It felt like his
coworkers were laughing too, although no one said anything to his
face.

His secretary was so used to him arriving at work in
various states of hangover and disarray, she barely blinked. “Rough
night, I see,” she observed, and wisely dropped the matter. But
she brought him painkillers with his tea, and he was grateful. Li-san
was good like that.

It was going to take more than
painkillers to fix the mess in his head, though. Tormented, he'd
haunted the clubs every night for over a week, screwing one
bespectacled man after another. It didn't work. He felt hungrier than
ever. Hungry and totally out of control. How had the guy managed to
get under his skin like that? Obsessed. That was the best word. He'd
never felt so obsessed by another human being.

He groaned and
hammered his head with his fists, as if to pound out the memories of
that night. Takeda-san's scent, the taste of his skin,
Takeda-san's...technique, the effortless way he'd taken control and
thwarted Ryu-san's attempts to dominate. Thinking about the scene
made him feel exhilarated and feverish, and he hadn't felt like that
since he was a kid blissfully curing his virginity.

Unfortunately,
Takeda-san was a mystery. The dossier Research pulled together was
woefully brief. Takeda-san was nine months older and received his BA
at twenty. Since Ryu-san had barely finished high school, he found
both facts especially galling. Takeda Delivery filed tax returns for
the past four years, but the company hadn't incorporated until two
years ago. Takeda-san was the sole named officer. He'd never been
married, parents dead, no siblings, and was renting in a relatively
crappy part of town—not far from where Ryu-san grew up, he was
bemused to note.

The bleep of his cell startled him out of
his musings, and he groaned at the ID. He'd moved out nine months ago
and hadn't fucked her since, but his ex still called every day. It
was tempting to ignore her, but he knew from long experience it was
better to get it over with. Besides, he was feeling so messed up, a
little abuse of his ever-constant punching bag might make him feel
better.

“Muuuu-chan,” she sang. “Come over
tonight. I'm lonely. I'll make you dinner.”

They'd
grown up in the same neighborhood and she'd been a fun girl in those
days—strong, cute, always ready for an adventure. The problems
came with puberty. He bedded her when they were fourteen and even
fancied himself in love at the time. It took three months to realize
he hadn't been her first, nor was he her only.

His heart was
bruised, but he recovered quickly enough, especially considering that
fidelity wasn't one of his strong suits either. She was simply there,
the one constant in his life. A bewildering mix of parasite and
whore, clinging desperately one day and spreading her legs for
someone else the next. They played, fought, stole each other's lovers
and spent furious months not speaking, but somehow he always found
himself back in her bed.

“Are you there Mugen?”
she asked. “Please come over. I miss you. We don't have to do
anything. I'll make us dinner and we can just talk.” Yeah
right, he thought. Like when did we ever just talk? And when
did you learn to cook?

His cock was pulling him to give
in, no question, but it was more than that. He was feeling lonely
too. Lonely and weird and not himself. He needed a distraction—a
familiar, predictable way to take his mind off his tormentor. If
nothing else, his ex was amusing.

“OK, Kohza,” he
decided. “I'll be over at seven.”

to be continued
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