侍ギタ

His train of thought was abruptly derailed as realization hit him. He believed in coincidences, that the hands of fate were far too busy to connect every single dot - but something was off. In his mind he connected all the dots, slowly an image started to take form, everything starting to make sense. He stared back at the man opposite him, slowly taking a step back, eyes widening. 

As he lingered new the front of the desk, he felt almost silly for coming in here. Daisys. But, he remembered it so it was important to him. The small things that he had hoped to hold in his heart forever was small thoughts such a daisy ropes and crows that completely encased his mind. He should have paid more attention when his brother had made them; he could remember his sibling growing mad that he wouldn’t sit down and play in the flowers but he had so much energy when he was young. Not that he regretted it but it seemed his energy and the way he saw his sibling, wasn’t exactly fair. He should have went in the building with his brother to get the water but instead, he wanted to be a little brat.

Pursing his lips, calloused finger tips brushed the petals of the flower as he was lost for a moment before a pair of words brought his eyebrows together in almost a snap. Turning his head quickly to look at the male, his friendly air was no longer there as he begun to close down. How did they know his name? His birth name? He hadn’t introduced himself anything but Miyavi in these parts in the hope that he could hide but the other saying that name sent up a red flag. Did he know the gang that had imprisoned him throughout his youth? Were they looking for him? That was fast, leaving a sick feeling in his stomach as he leveled the other with a look. But he was stepping away.

to take away the pain that harms you

There on the other male’s collarbone was a curious little shape. It was a strange thing, he thought, to have tattooed on such a visible spot. Perhaps it had meaning? He supposed he’d never know, but it did trigger a feeling of nostalgia - maybe he’d seen it somewhere before? He rubbed his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowing slightly at the man. 

Ishihara’s eyes shot to the male as the Japanese left his lips, a boyish grin pulling his lips as he pointed a finger at the other. He knew how to speak Japanese? In his excitement, he forgot that pointing in Korea was considered rude and quickly the single digit retreated against his hand as he dropped his arm to rest on the strap across his chest, his fingers slipping under the thick plastic. But his smile stayed on his lips, before he realized what the other had said. It was funny, because that’s who taught him to fold the paper the same way but he wasn’t sure if that was important.

“Mine too. She used to say that those flowers were our home. The center was her and my Otousan, the petals, me and my siblings. And together we’d blossom like the sakura trees.” Feeling as if he rambled on, he was just so happy that someone could understand him—hear his stories what little happy ones he had. But he had clung to these stories for so long, the moments his young mind had brushed aside frivolously. He regreted it now, but as his eyes glanced away from the other man back up, it could be worse. It always could be worse.

“Cost?” The male grinned softly, proud at his own accomplishment before heaving a sigh with thin digits moving through his hair. It was becoming difficult communicating and though Daesung was teaching him as much as he could, they hadn’t reached anything like this. It was still greetings and his pronunciation was terrible.

“I don’t know why this is so difficult…” Ishihara muttered in Japanese before lifting his head at the strange word the other said. What was it called? It sounded like muddled words. Was it Korean or English, he wasn’t exactly sure but he forced a small smile as he nodded his head since he figured it was about the flowers.

“Favorite.” The male said softly, flashing another grin towards the male with an easy going nature. It was clean in the store, more clean than what he had thought this type of store would be with all the leaves and petals falling.

A small thought moved into his head and he couldn’t help but wonder why everything was so quiet around here, so boarded up at points and people were almost fearful. Perhaps, he was confused more than he’d like to think he was but some of the people acted like he was going to strike out and hurt them when all he needed was directions. It was as if he was asking too much. His appearance wasn’t too terrifying but with everyone eyeing him, he feared he’d have to remove his pirecings to appear normal to the large amount of people that walked the other way seeing him come down the road.

Adjusting the guitar strap that slung across his chest, it pulled at the blazer and exposed more of the male’s upper chest as he rolled one of the flowers thick stems between his fingers. It was gentle, the small stems fairing well in his gentle touch as he almost shuffled his feet for a moment lifting his head to look at the ceiling where cute paper flower hung, strung from the top and for a moment, he almost felt stunned. He had seen those when he was a child, something his mother had taught him and his twin how to make on the new year to hang at the temple.

Wrinkling his nose lightly, perhaps, it was a normal thing here. Despite the fact that he would like to assume that it was a Japanese skill, but he was sure it was more normal around these parts considering so many Japanese had immigrated here.

The buzz had definitely kicked in. Zitao pulled out his wallet to pay for both his and the other man’s drinks before getting up. He snaked his arms loosely around the other’s neck, chuckling quietly to himself.

As their glasses met, he made a silent toast to the other to make it a good night. He wasn’t a boring partner, when it came to the other, because he was always keeping him on his toes. Downing the shot, his lips peeled back in a hiss but a large grin pulled his lips. Some of the Korean liquor could make a Japanese mans toes curl and already, he could feel the warmth in his stomach; such a beautiful warmth.  Pushing the glass away from him, the male sniffled lightly as he motioned for the bartender to collect the glasses with a small smile before turning his head.

Dark, predator eyes were staring as his eyes turned to the beautiful man across from him. Those eyes, always sent shivers through the tattooed male and he enjoyed it so much. It was one of the things he would never get tired of; the small amount of people that could make his body shiver and his blood rise. To him, they were rare—something to be treasured because he liked the feeling of being stimulated just by looking at someone.  Snaking out his pink muscle, wetting his chapped the lips, he cocked his head to the side as he watched the other lift the other move up from the bar seat and the dim lighting of the club played on the planes of the others face, the cheek bones sharp enough to cut Ishihara.

Turning himself, the blonde males body fit perfectly between the wide set knees as a pair of arms snaked around his neck; loose but there. Fingers moved to dance against the others hips gently as the sitting male raised his head, his eyes racking in the close form of the other before finally flickering to his face. A tease, he was, his fingers brushed the bare skin of the others back and it was a chaste movement but he smirked none the less as his eyes remained on the other males face.

As the others head moved to his ear, he could feel the others breath but not only that but the smell of alcohol on his lips. He had so much to catch up and the two shots wouldn’t be enough to get to Edison’s level but he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his throat, the sound masculine at the purr that was whispered in his ear. Of course, Edison’s English was better than his own but the fact that he could communicate with such a man who called him such things made his hands once more move the fabric that separated his fingers from the blonde’s warm skin.

That look, the one he gave him, once more sent shivers through Ishihara’s body and it was enough to make him almost whine in excitement of running into the other. So fun, he was so much fun. Rising from the seat, his hands moving from the others back to his hips he tilted his head as a few thoughts of what he wanted to do to the other crawled into his mind; thoughts that were appropriate for a club and yet he just got here. The look was enough to let him know, he didn’t want to sit here anymore and the dance floor was excuse enough for their hands and bodies to wonder completely normal despite their gender.

✖

But his eyes were on the dark shirt, something he needed. It sounded selfish but why couldn’t he have it? Because he couldn’t pay for it. That thought didn’t sit well in his stomach ash he moved over to the rack. Causally sliding his hand in his pocket, he glanced over his shoulder at the area and didn’t exactly see anyone looking his way so he grabbed the shirt and acted as if he was looking at it for a moment but that moment cost him the whole trip and as soon as he was moving towards the door, he had a female grabbing at the shirt. No, no. Why did he get caught? He had just got here and already, he feared he would end up in the jail and possibly deported.

“Please…” The English word escaped his lips, in the hope someone knew English because he was sure none of these women spoke Japanese. Tugging gently, the woman let go before screaming something in Korean, making him take a step away. Should he take it and leave or throw it to the ground in the hopes she didn’t call the police. But already, he could see the other female with the phone in her hand, his hand reaching out to motion for her to stop but as soon as he took a step forward, he felt a hand on his shoulder and a deep voice at his side.

A scowl pulled his lips, his automatic reaction to push the hand off of his shoulder before his eyes landed on the face. The look completely transformed, leaving the young males face completely asphyxiated for a moment as he looked at someone he couldn’t believe was actually besides him. Him, of all people, stood at his side, his hand placed on his shoulder. He couldn’t look away. Even when he was young boy, he hadn’t been this close to the other and he could take in the line of the others jaw and the ways his voice was a deep alto in the room; he was in a spell before the others eyes moved to him and he was reminded he was staring.

Japanese, rusty words, came from the others lips but a soft ‘hai’ left his lips as he agreed, his eyes moving to stare at the floor with the dark strands of hair covering his face. How disappointed the other had to be, seeing him like this. Ishihara was embarrassed and he couldn’t hide the fact that he was, hearing a chuckle of uncertainty from the females, he lifted his head with large eyes at the pair. What were they talking about? But, they moved away for a moment and his eyes were once more transfixed on the other, his heart fluttering in his chest. He never…felt like this, but he had aged gracefully in the past couple of years while Ishihara had just grown lanker, skinner.

Almost wanting to protest the other paying for the items, the male couldn’t help the slight pout that pulled his lips but he ducked his head down to hide it. If he could die on the spot, it wouldn’t be soon enough. But, he was pulled out of his head with a gentle pull on his arm to the side making his dark eyes shift upwards to the other as he blinked some, listening to what the other spoke  and it made him feel worse, his shoulders moving to shrug almost before feeling fingers grace his cheek and words that made butterflies flutter in his stomach. Fire was where the other had touched, swallowing as he looked up at the other from under his hair but he took a tentative step back. He was an important man and Ishihara was nothing but a street rat. Why was he showing this affection so public? It made him nervous what the women thought, their eyes still on the pair and only when they’re eyes locked did they look away from him and Godfrey.

Feeling the bag bump his leg, he glanced down at the motion and he pursed his lips as his painted fingers motioned to the bag.

“You—you didn’t have to do that. You could have just gave it back.” I don’t want you spending your money on me.

At his question, the male heaved a sigh and for a moment, he felt somewhat at ease that the other knew his situation in Japan to a degree. But he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bring it up again, to relive his memories, but for the shirt, he could do that.

✖

Names were exchanged. Drinks were paid for. A generic conversation carried on that was dull enough to knock Zitao out like a light but he kept his signature smile plastered on his face with a few laughs here and there. Though the guy definitely wasn’t his type in the slightest, Zitao didn’t feel like leaving the club without some type of stress relief hanging tipsy off his arm and, quite honestly, it seemed like he was the best Zitao was getting that night. 

Getting to the door was easy, offering his hand to get the stamp with a few couple of bucks for a VIP, and he was in. Of course, he hadn’t been laid in what seemed forever because of how the people were here. Besides, with the language barrier, he could only nibble on some of the partners ears after some of the dirty dancing in the hope that they would get what he wanted. Some females, and males, were more than willing and he could count on his fingers how many he was able to get to the back rooms without an issue of being caught. But, he wasn’t exactly planning to do that tonight. He was feeling too tacky moving to the back rooms and it just reminded him that this was his profession; prowling.

Thin digits danced through his hair as he pushed the black strands away, exposing the single shaved side. Dark almond eyes took in the area, his eyes flickering at the faces as he tilted his head at the music. Such an odd choice but he couldn’t help but shuffle through the crowd, his body weaving in and out before finally he was near the bar.

Thin arms leaned against the counter, his fingers smacking a beat on the top as he glanced around before finally, his eyes moved down to follow the bartender and there he was; Edison. Blinking his eyes lightly, he watched the males partner wonder off as a round of shots were placed in front of the other. Pursing his lips, he couldn’t help the smirk that pulled the corners in and almost Cheshire grin before he stepped away from the bar.

With shark like intensity, his eyes remained on the snow haired male before finally, he moved behind him and his fingers quickly grabbed one of the shots.

“Too much.” The English words left his lips in a whisper as the male leaned close to the others ear, his breath moving over the other before pulling away slightly. Saluting the other with his shot, he drowned the liquid before hissing lightly at the taste. It was strong. Moving behind the other, he moved to the seat where the other male had vacated. Smooth, his body slid into the chair as his legs easily crossed with the clear glass still in his fingers before his eyes glanced over to the other.

It was a subtle look, his eyes glancing over the other male and that single look was a sweeping one that took over his body before a slight smirk pulled the corner of his lip. It was a devils look, one that spoke measures only certain people could catch but it was subtle enough to not be vulgar. But he had been told, even his looks held a vulgarity that shouldn’t be allowed in public. But this was a club, and a friend of sorts in the other chair.

Shifting his eyes away from the other, he shook the glass towards the bartender for a refill of whatever the other was drinking. Of course, he didn’t expect the other to pay, but if he was already going hard and heavy, Ishihara would have to catch up. And he wasn’t sure how long the other had been here, since he had actually arrived later at the local spot than he normally did but he had helped close up the sushi shop.