Sniper Slut in Tokyo

First of the Sniper Slut in Tokyo Series
scribblemoose

Irvine Kinneas turned from his drink to watch the man slinking effortlessly onto the bar stool next to him. He noticed how he caught the attention of the bartender immediately, and had gotten himself a drink and a very pretty smile from her in less time than it would have taken most people just to catch her eye.

Irvine knew talent when he saw it.

He was pretty, too: slender, long-limbed; sunglasses perched on the top of his head to reveal big, expressive eyes. He was wearing tight leather pants and a soft silk shirt that skimmed slim hips, open low enough to reveal a tantalising portion of leanly muscled chest. He knew he was being watched; he drew a pack of cigarettes out of his hip pocket and shook a couple out, offered one to Irvine with a smile.

Irvine grinned back, shook his head. "No thanks."

The stranger shrugged. "Only the bad guys smoke these days," he reflected in an easy drawl, "and me." He lit a cigarette with obvious pleasure, regarding Irvine through eyelids slitted against the smoke. "You new round here?"

"Yeah. Just passing through," Irvine decided against going into details about Odine's experiment with the Ragnarok and alternate dimensions just now. He was having enough trouble coming to terms with it himself, never mind explaining it to anyone else. "Irvine Kinneas," he held out his hand; the other man clasped it firmly, shook once.

"Kudoh Yohji," he said. "Call me Yohji. Welcome to Tokyo."

"You live here?"

Yohji nodded. "Not far. It's alright, when it's not raining. What d'you do?"

"I'm. . . well, kind of a soldier."

Yohji raised an eyebrow; there was a flash of recognition in his eyes that took Irvine by surprise. And intrigued him.

"What about you?" Irvine asked.

"Florist."

"What?"

"I'm a florist. You know, flowers. Arranging and selling of. I work in a flower shop not far from here."

"Oh." That had Irvine floored. He was quite certain that he'd never met a florist before.

"Well, you don't look like a soldier," said Yohji with a wry smile, "at least I look like a florist."

Irvine grinned back, although he couldn't honestly say he'd ever thought about what a florist might look like. "I'm kind of in special forces," he said.

That recognition again; fleeting, but there was more to this florist than met the eye.

"So what brings you to this particular bar, in this particular club?" Yohji took a gulp of his drink, leaning his elbows on the bar.

"Just blowing off a little steam," said Irvine. "Had a lot on our mind lately."

"Ah," Yohji looked at Irvine curiously. "And who might the other part of 'our' be?"

"I'm here with my boyfriend," said Irvine. "Or at least I was," he added, with a sigh. "He kinda took off."

"Oh. Row?"

Irvine nodded. "He's not keen on clubs," he said. "He prefers sitting in dark corners hating himself."

"Really?" Yohji said, with what sounded remarkably like heartfelt sympathy. "He doesn't take off for long walks in the rain and go whole days without speaking, does he?"

Irvine's eyes widened with surprise. "Yes, actually, he does. How do you. . ."

"Oh, I have one of those, too," said Yohji, flicking ash disconsolately into the ashtray. "Drives me round the fucking bend."

"Wow." Irvine let this sink in for a moment. He'd never imagined there would be more than one Squall in the world. But then, this was a different world. Maybe they were kind of issued out, one to each dimension. . . "It sucks," he agreed. "But he's…"

"Worth it. Yeah. I know."

"So, where's. . ."

"Aya? Oh, walking around in the rain, I expect. We had a disagreement about actually going on a date rather than skulking round the house."

"You live together, then?"

"Yeah, well, we live above the shop with a couple of other florists."

Irvine stared for a minute, trying that out in his head for size. "Family business?"

Yohji smiled, just a little sardonically. "Kind of. Well. . . no, not really. But we were all kind of thrown together in the common cause of floristry, you could say."

Irvine laughed, certain now there was something here Yohji wasn't telling him. "I guess Squall and me were thrown together, too," he said. "With some other people," he added. "Through work," he frowned a little. "Kinda."

"So," Yohji reflected, "how did a couple of good looking, laid back young guys like us end up moping in a bar like this?"

"It's sad," said Irvine morosely, recognising this as a grade-b potential come-on. "No," he flashed Yohji a sideways look from under long lashes, "tragic."

Yohji held his gaze, leaning towards Irvine a little, resting his chin on his hand. "You have beautiful eyes," he said.

Straight up to grade-a. This guy liked taking risks.

"Thank you," Irvine purred. "Where's your boyfriend again?"

Yohji sighed melodramatically. "Out there somewhere," he waved his cigarette vaguely in the direction of the door. "Just stormed off."

"D'you think he'll be back?"

"Uh. . . probably not," confessed Yohji. "He'll get good and wet and then go home and sulk for a few days." He looked somewhat sheepish, "I did accuse him of being a fucking sadistic. . . florist with no heart."

"Ouch," flinched Irvine. "That's gotta hurt."

"Yeah. Well, he drives me to it," said Yohji. "He never wants to have any fun. Unless it involves driving me insane, one way or another."

"Squall's the same. All duty and responsibility and no. . . fun." That wasn't strictly true, Irvine reflected. Actually Squall could be a lot of fun, so long as it was on his terms. But he had a feeling Yohji wasn't giving him the full picture either.

"You know what?" Yohji had the most magnetic eyes Irvine had ever encountered.

"What?" Irvine drained his glass.

"We deserve some fun."

Irvine took a moment to consider what that might mean. He was fairly certain that Yohji was offering more than a few drinks and a trip to the dance floor upstairs. But however pissed Irvine was with Squall - and he was, very - cheating wasn't Irvine's style.

"Won't Aya mind? Do you usually go round picking up other men every time you have a row?"

Yohji flinched, looking a little hurt. "No," he said. Then, with a rueful expression in his big green eyes, "usually it's women."

Irvine laughed, despite himself. "And he doesn't mind?"

"Well, no. Yes. Probably. But we have an understanding. OK, actually it doesn't happen that often. I usually give in."

"Hn. Me too. Anyway, Squall and I don't have an understanding. Squall doesn't do understanding. Just the brooding and walking off in a huff."

"Poor Irvine," Yohji cooed. "And you so damn pretty and all."

"Not half as pretty as he is," said Irvine. "And you're not so bad yourself," he added, reluctant to let Yohji's expert advances go completely unanswered.

Yohji's smile broadened a little. "But not pretty enough for a little fun?"

"Oh gods, yes. But I can't. Just a drink," said Irvine. "Sorry," gods, am I sorry; fuck Squall, you'd better appreciate this, "but that's all. I'm a one-man guy."

"Why do I not believe you?"

Yohji obviously wasn't the kind to give up.

"I've no idea," Irvine grinned.

"You've not always been a one-man guy." Statement, not question.

"No. Sometimes I've been a one-woman guy. And sometimes. . . well, it doesn't matter. I wouldn't hurt Squall." A hint of seriousness, there. Some things Irvine was certain about, and that was one of them.

"Okay," Yohji recognised the tone, flashed his eyes to the bartender. "Drink it is."

* * * * * * *

Aya flicked wet hair out of his eyes, with considerable irritation. The rain was easing off a little, as was his temper. He was starting to feel a little foolish for storming off like that, when all Yohji had wanted was to spend one evening out of the Koneko having fun. It wasn't even as if Aya didn't like clubbing. Well, he didn't, much, but it was fun with Yohji, somehow. And he did like to have fun, whatever Yohji might think.

He'd made his way back to the club, hoping that if he just turned up Yohji might be pleased enough to forget their argument. But he'd been followed for the last four blocks.

"Oh, look. Such a pretty boy. Such a quiet alley."

I don't believe it.

"Leave now, and you won't get hurt," Aya growled.

"Oh, I won't get hurt, bishounen. And if you're good, and don't make a fuss, neither will you."

"Oh, please." Aya turned to size up his assailant, and found himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

Oh, crap.

And no katana. Not necessary, Yohji had said, and almost certainly not allowed in a nightclub.

"Ha. Now the tables have turned, ne?"

What was it with bad guys that they always had to do all this gloating?

Aya considered his next move carefully. The guy didn't look drunk, his hands were steady, and he probably didn't want a murder on his hands. So the best move would be to act scared, which would bring him a little closer, then take the wrist and bend it backwards, get rid of the gun . . .

Aya spotted a movement in the shadows over the guy's shoulder.

"Back against the wall, pretty."

"OK. . ." he could make out the shape of a person, now. The trace of a nod. "Hey, who's that behind you?"

"What? Behind. . . oh, you don't think I'd fall for that. . ugnh! Shit!"

The shadow had captured Aya's would-be attacker in one fluid movement, one strong, muscular arm around his neck. The second the guy was off-balance Aya knocked the gun away, and snapped a satisfying kick to his gut.

He slumped, sliding down to form an untidy heap on the ground.

Aya picked up the gun, emptying bullets into one hand, surveying his unknown assistant from the corner of his eye.

"Thanks," he said.

"You're welcome." The dark form moved out of the shadows, although he didn't get much less dark. As far as Aya could tell, he was dressed head to foot in black, dark hair wet and ragged over his eyes. "You looked like you could cope," the stranger said, his voice calm and even, "but the guy irritated me."

"Me too. Were you going in?"

"In?"

"The club." Aya indicated the door behind them with a slight incline of his head.

"Oh. Yeah."

"So was I. Can I buy you a drink?" Aya hoped he'd say no, but it was only right to offer.

"Thanks, but I'm meeting someone."

"OK. Me too."

They nodded at each other, briefly, and Aya led the way into the club, dropping gun and bullets in a dumpster on the way.

Once in the relative light of the club, Aya snuck a curious look at the guy. He was shrugging his duster off his shoulders, to reveal hipsters and a slashed, sleeveless crop top, all black leather and pale skin. His hair brushed his shoulders, dark and ragged, and his eyes were piercing grey.

Aya tore his eyes away, to search the downstairs bar for Yohji.

He wasn't there.

Aya blinked. The only scenario that fitted his world view had definitely involved Yohji propping up the bar, listening mournfully to the heavy beat drifting down from the dance floor upstairs, until his eyes lit up when he noticed Aya and. . .

He couldn't believe he actually wasn't there.

"Fuck," said his dark companion.

Aya darted a sideways look at him. "What?"

"Eh? Oh, nothing."

"Hn."

"I guess I'll be going. The guy I was meeting doesn't seem to be here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Anyway." He turned to leave, but not before Aya had caught a glimpse of pain and confusion in stormy grey eyes.

"Do you want that drink, then?" Aya surprised himself. But if Yohji had gone home in a sulk, or picked up some woman. . . the guy looked lost, somehow. It was only fair, after what happened in the alley. Just one drink.

"What about your date?"

"He's not here either," said Aya.

"Alright then," he extended one steady hand towards Aya. "My name's Squall Leonhart."

"Fujimiya Aya," said Aya, shaking his hand solemnly. "Just call me Aya."

Squall gave him the slightest of smiles. "Whatever," he said.

* * * * * * * *

Yohji found his eyes drifting irresistibly down Irvine's body as they danced. The man was all sensuous movement and auburn hair, wrapped up in black jeans and a cute little purple top that brought out the colour of his eyes.

Violet eyes and red hair. You're getting predictable, Kudoh.

And he smiled. Not as a rarely bestowed, heart-stopping gift, but just because he was plain enjoying himself. He smiled easily, and often, and quite deliberately to make Yohji horny. It was the first time he'd met anyone who flirted as well as he did himself.

It was intoxicating.

It was all he could do to stop himself touching. Not that he was sure Irvine would let him touch; he'd put up considerable resistance about just dancing, after all. But that made it all the more tempting. Yohji loved a challenge, he just wanted to see how far the other man would let him go. . .

"No," Irvine mouthed with a disapproving look, tempered by teasing eyes.

Yohji realised that his hand had actually moved to suit thought to action without checking with his brain first. "Sorry," he grinned, unabashed, and kept dancing, adding just the slightest dip to his hips, shrug to his shoulders and grind to his pelvis that he knew would reach Irvine just as surely as his actual touch would have.

"Bad boy," Irvine observed. And turned Yohji's trick right back on him, willowing his body to show off lean flesh and rippling muscle, looking at Yohji through long, coppery bangs that covered half his face.

The track was coming to an end; the music slowed to fade and Irvine's hip sway slowed with it, in perfect time. Yohji watched, enraptured, as Irvine ran his hands smoothly up from his hips, across his chest, round the back of his neck, pausing to brush one thumb across his lower lip before scooping handfulls of luxurious auburn hair and stretching his arms up above his head.

"Bastard," Yohji growled, as Irvine released the stretch, laughing, and turned to leave the dancefloor.

Yohji wanted to follow him like a devoted puppy, but he had his pride to consider. He swiftly overtook Irvine and stood in his way.

"One more?" he tipped his head on one side, almost pleading. "I need to get my own back."

"I don't think so," Irvine grinned at him. "I don't think you need to get your own back. You're damn hot, you know that?"

"Yeah," said Yohji, who did. "So they tell me. You too."

"Why, thank you." Irvine combed his hair back from his face with long, steady fingers. "Now, I'm thirsty. So if you don't mind?"

"Oh, alright," Yohji sighed tragically, moving out of the way to let Irvine get to the stairs. "I hope this Tempest or whatever his name is deserves you, that's all…."

"It's Squall, Yohji, Squall. And he does, really. Just like Aya deserves you, I'm sure."

Actually, Aya probably deserves a lot better, thought Yohji, as he followed Irvine down the stairs. He wondered idly whether Aya would be home when he got back. Because he was going to be horny fit to kill by then and…

Irvine reached the bottom of the stairs and paused, turning to ask Yohji what he wanted to drink; just as a girl behind Yohji stumbled, pushing against his back, throwing him off balance so he fell against Irvine and . . .

That's how they remembered it, later. So that must have been how it was.

Without thinking, Irvine opened his arms to catch Yohji, and without thinking, Yohji slid his arms around Irvine to save himself from falling. And then there was just a warm press of hardness against hardness and Yohji tilted his head up, realising just how tall Irvine was, and Irvine leaned down and just for a moment there was a brush of lips…

"Woah," Yohji broke the moment. No. He couldn't do this to Aya.

"Yes. No, I mean. Shit. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Mostly," Yohji pulled himself gently out of Irvine's arms, regretfully trailing his fingers past the bare flesh of Irvine's waist as he let go. "I really need a cigarette," he said. "And a drink."

Irvine allowed himself the slightest brush of his fingers to Yohji's hair, and smiled. "Me too," he said.

* * * * * * *

Squall watched Aya toying with his glass, strangely captivated by the slow, meditative movements of his fingers. They hadn't said much, which made a welcome change, as far as Squall was concerned. For a naturally quiet person, he had an odd tendency to surround himself with boisterous, chatty types who insisted he joined in with everything. And while he loved his friends - and, oh, gods but he missed them, - it was nice just for once not to have that pressure.

He was pleased for the company, though. He couldn't usually brood to himself in clubs without getting hit on, and there was something about this taciturn red head that kept other people at a distance.

Possibly the way he glared at everyone as though he'd like to kill them.

He missed Irvine, though. It hurt, that he hadn't waited. Even though Squall couldn't blame him, really; he'd knew he'd been insufferable lately, moody and depressed and mad at Odine and missing Rinoa, in a strange kind of way. And it must have been just as hard for him, missing Selphie. Poor Irvine. Only… why hadn't he waited?

"Another drink?" Aya uncrossed long legs, one thigh brushing Squall's hand, soft black suede caressing his skin. Squall jerked his hand back, not entirely sure whether it was the sudden sound of Aya's rich baritone interrupting his thoughts, or the jolt that simple contact sent through his body that had made him jump.

"Er. . . yes. Please."

He watched Aya's confident stride as he crossed the room to the bar, leaning on smooth mahogany, one bootheel hooking into the foot-rail.

Gods, thought Squall. I must have a thing about redheads. And those eyes. . .

The idea startled him considerably. This was the first time, ever, that he'd actually worked out for himself that he was attracted to someone. Usually the other person had to practically drag the confession out of his brain with endless patience, constant understanding and affection, and quite often, actual sex.

Being attracted to Aya was as obvious to him as his own hard-on. Which, watching those suede-clad hips swinging their way back towards their table, was considerable.

"Thanks," he said, as Aya set a fresh drink down in front of him.

Aya settled back on the bench next to Squall, and carried on tracing one finger around the rim of his glass.

"Do you get stood up often?" he said, suddenly.

Squall started; partly at the unexpected communication, partly at the implied accusation.

He searched Aya's gaze briefly for insight, and then he understood. He hadn't meant anything by it, Squall realised. He was just trying to make conversation.

"No," he said. "You?"

"No."

"To be fair," Squall added, because he felt it was important to be fair to Irvine, considering all his friend and lover had to put up with, "it was more that I walked out on him and he didn't wait."

That seemed to capture Aya's interest: he raised an eyebrow.

"We had a row," Squall explained.

"Oh. So did we," Aya volunteered. "Stupid, really."

"Yes," agreed Squall. "I went for a walk, and …"

"… thought he might have had the courtesy to wait?"

"Something like that. He's probably pissed off with me and didn't want to hang around by himself. I expect he's gone home. I can't blame him."

"Hn. I wouldn't blame Yohji," grunted Aya, "if he's just gone home. But he's probably gone to find a couple of women to make him feel better. Slut."

Squall considered that as a possibility. Irvine wasn't that much of a slut. Was he?

The memory of a few wild nights flooded Squall's mind. Of Irvine when he was supposed to be with Selphie, but somehow had time for Squall as well. And Rinoa, come to that. And Quistis always looked at Irvine kind of funny and…

"Irvine does get carried away, sometimes," he admitted. "Can't help himself."

Aya snorted. "No self control, some people," he said. "Yohji's like that. All impulse, no thought."

"Yeah. No sense of responsibility."

"Exactly." Aya glanced sidelong at him through a curtain of sumptuous red hair. "Slut."

"Though and through," agreed Squall with a sigh, taking a long gulp of his drink, flicking his tongue out to feel the cool smoothness of the rim of the glass.

Aya crossed his legs again, and folded his arms in his lap.

"He doesn't understand how hard it is if you're not naturally sociable," Squall continued, the flush of alcohol helping him to warm to his theme. "Sometimes I just want to be alone. Irvine seems to think that's a crime."

"God, yes," said Aya. "Yohji too. Always wanting to go out, and talk, and…"

Fuck, thought Squall, involuntarily. Although he didn't have a problem with that part, actually.

"… be nice to …" Aya's voice tailed off.

Squall followed Aya's gaze to see what had caused him to lose his thread. He seemed to be watching a couple entwined in each others' arms at the foot of the stairs, a guy with thick, dark blonde hair and a redhead, tall …

Irvine?

He heard Aya's sharp intake of breath, and felt the tension coil inside the man.

"Kudoh Yohji," he snarled under his breath, "shi-ne!"

* * * * * * *

Squall wondered vaguely what 'shi-ne' meant, but he got the general gist. Aya was mad. Almost as mad as he was.

"That's…"

"Yohji."

"With the redhead?"

"Yes," Aya spat.

"My redhead."

Aya tore himself from his growing rage long enough to shoot a glance at Squall.

"Your…?"

"Irvine. That's Irvine." Squall's face was a thundercloud, grey eyes dark and narrowed behind all that hair.

"They didn't waste much time, did they?" said Aya in his deep monotone.

"I'll kill him," said Squall. "I didn't… I thought…"

"Killling's too good," Aya murmured, watching the pair of them as they pulled their bodies apart from each other and made their way to the bar.

"Well, we ought to do something," said Squall.

"Oh, yes." Aya poured the rest of his drink down his throat. "We need revenge," he said, slamming the empty glass down onto the table.

"Revenge?" Squall liked the sound of that.

"Yes." The corners of Aya's mouth curled into a vicious smile. "And don't worry," he was still glaring at Yohji through narrow eyes, "I'm good at revenge."

* * * * *

Irvine followed Yohji back up the stairs, almost certain that he should have left and gone back to the hotel while he had the chance. Going back to the dancefloor with Yohji was just asking for trouble.

Maybe Irvine felt like asking for trouble. Just a little.

So he allowed Yohji to take his hand and lead him through the passive dancers at the edge of the dance floor, the ones who were shuffling self-consciously from foot to foot, avoiding eye contact at all costs, as if ready to deny they were dancing at all; and into the pack of bodies in the middle, where the lights were brightest and the music was loudest, and people were really moving like they meant it.

Yohji dropped his hand, then, remembering the no-touch rule at last. Irvine felt a twinge of regret, but after all, he was with Squall, and…

He suddenly became aware that Yohji was standing absolutely still, staring over Irvine's shoulder at something that clearly horrified him.

In what felt like slow motion, Irvine turned to see what had alarmed his new friend so much, and with a shock like a slap round the face saw Squall, his Squall, dancing. With another man. An absolutely drop dead gorgeous fucking god of a man, all red hair and pale skin, almost as pale as Squall's. And Squall had one arm draped over the guy's shoulder, and he was swaying his hips and looking sexily into his eyes and …

He felt Yohji about to pounce, and put out an arm to stop him. He couldn't know it was Squall, so how…? Oh. It had to be. . .

"Aya?" Irvine mouthed.

Yohji nodded sharply, clearly furious.

"Squall," Irvine said.

Yohji's eyes widened. "Fuck."

Irvine saw Aya look at them, then, registering Yohji's presence with an evil-looking smile. Sexy as hell, but evil-looking just the same.

Yohji was straining to escape Irvine's grasp. For someone who'd been trying to get into Irvine's pants all night, he sure was jealous of Aya, and Irvine could tell Aya was playing some kind of game designed to make him so. They clearly had a very complicated relationship.

But Squall…?

Squall followed the line of Aya's gaze and turned; Irvine searched his eyes and found anger, pain, and not inconsiderable amounts of lust.

Irvine frowned, confused. Yohji was twisting in his hold, as Aya and Squall exchanged a meaningful look and moved closer, hips together.

Irvine very rarely lost his temper. But at that moment, he was filled with a sense of injustice so intense, so overwhelming, that he was incensed. How could Squall do this? When Irvine had been so good, and Yohji had been so hot, and so tempting all night, and he'd resisted…

Irvine pulled Yohji to him, and wrapped both arms around his neck. If this was how Squall wanted to play it, that was fine by him. Yohji shot him a furious look, clearly feeling the same anger, but his first impulse appeared to incline him to go and beat the shit out of Aya. Or Squall.

Irvine had other ideas. There was too much violence in his life already, and there were other ways to make a point. He pulled Yohji closer, brushed his lips against his ear.

"Dance with me," he whispered. "Show him what he's missing."

Yohji looked uncertain, almost shocked.

"Oh, come on," purred Irvine, "you've wanted it all night."

Yohji searched the depths of Irvine's violet eyes, unwilling to let go of his anger. There was something hard there, Yohji realised, under the casual sensuality the man exuded. He shot a look at Aya and Squall, a vivid image of sinful black and scarlet, and then back to Irvine, steel wrapped in velvet.

Yohji put his hands steadily on Irvine's hips, and started to move.

Battle lines drawn, it was inevitable that things would escalate. Aya hadn't expected this. He'd fully anticipated a certain amount of violence, hopefully started by Yohji and finishing with himself rendering the bastard unconscious. He hadn't counted on Irvine being able to diffuse Yohji's temper, or, for that matter, for Squall feeling so good writhing against him. And he felt damn good. He smelt good, too, outdoors and shampoo, a welcome change from stale tobacco. And, God, his butt… Aya had never felt anything like it, perfect and tight in those leather pants…

Aya realised he wasn't necessarily just trying to send Yohji to hell and back with jealousy any more. He was enjoying this. A lot.

He forced himself to look at Yohji, to fan the flames of his anger. It was Irvine he made eye contact with, though, he was running his fingers slowly down Yohji's spine - just how he liked it: how could he know that? - and licking Yohji's ear, his throat. His hair spilled over Yohji's shoulder, a cascade of burnt rust. Just Yohji's type, of course. He always went for redheads, and Irvine's hair was so long and so beautiful; Aya found himself picturing that hair fanned out across the fresh white linen of his pillow…

He snatched his eyes away, almost guiltily, and concentrated on Squall again, but that just added Squall to his unwitting fantasy; Squall and Irvine together, naked and rutting like animals, a river of red hair over pale flesh.

Aya vowed, there and then, that what ever happened that night, he would grow his hair as long as it would possibly grow. Down to his butt if he could. Then let Yohji try and dance with another man…

Oblivious to these reflections, Yohji had simply blanked off his anger for now, determined to get as much fun out of his revenge as he could. Irvine was right, he'd wanted this all night, and he was going to damn well take it. He luxuriated in Irvine's knowing touch, the confident grind of their bodies against each other, the freedom to feel and be felt without worrying about frightening anyone away.

Not that Aya was looking particularly frightened. Yohji turned Irvine a little so he could see Squall and Aya over his shoulder. Squall had turned his back to Aya and was swaying against him, arms raised high above his head, stretching his body out, grinding his perfect butt into Aya's groin.

My God. What a butt, too. And leather, God, I love leather…

Aya was wearing those pants that Yohji particularly loved… the ones that laced up the side and made him want to just tease with his fingers, worrying Aya just a little in case he undid them and… Yohji spotted pale fingers toying with the knot at the top. Yes. Just like that. Damn. No fair, Aya was his… oh, God, what was Irvine doing with his tongue on his neck like that…

Irvine had thought things through enough to relax and enjoy himself. He could sort Squall out later, whatever had happened. After all, they only had each other, in this whole stupid dimension. He'd known Squall most of his life, he'd taught him how to throw straight, helped him to come to terms with his sexuality, got him together with Rinoa, gone to Ultimecia and back with him, persuaded him to stop hating himself every waking minute of the day. And he'd shared him before; not with another man, admittedly, but with Selphie, and Rinoa... Now the anger was fading, Irvine felt strangely at home. He'd wanted Yohji from the first minute he'd set eyes on him, and he was going to enjoy this. So when Squall looked over at him, hotter than ever, his hands buried in red hair even richer and silkier than Irvine's own, Irvine gave him a slow, sexy smile, and winked.

He vaguely wondered what conditioner Aya used on his hair to make it shine like that…

Squall froze for a minute, until Aya's softly undulating body prompted him, almost absent-mindedly, to carry on dancing. Irvine had winked at him?

Something strange was going on here. Something just didn't add up. Unless… could it be that Irvine was enjoying this?

Of course it could. Squall cursed himself for getting so wound up in Aya's revenge that this hadn't occurred to him before. It was exactly the sort of thing Irvine would enjoy.

One way to be certain.

After a brief check to make sure Irvine was still watching, Squall flashed his eyes at Aya, a warning, maybe, and kissed him. He'd been thinking of a quick kiss, really; he was fairly sure it wasn't in the original revenge plan. But Aya had other ideas, opening his mouth a little and sliding his tongue slowly into Squall's. Aya's mouth was soft and warm, and his tongue small and agile, and it was only when he came up for air that Squall could be certain he was still able to stand. They looked at each other for a second, slowly remembering exactly how they had come to discover such breathtaking pleasure in each others' kiss, before turning to Irvine and Yohj. It was their move now. And inevitable.

Suffused with a sense of pure wickedness, Irvine flipped Yohji backwards over one arm, supporting him with one broad hand in the small of his back, movie-style. Shaking his hair out of the way so as to give Squall and Aya an uninterrupted view, he sealed Yohji's lips with his own and kissed him long and hard. Yohji moaned delightfully, one arm hooked round Irvine's neck, the other reaching up to stroke his jaw.

The track was coming to an end, and in the brief quiet before the next started up, Irvine thought he heard laughter. He opened his eyes, helping Yohji up, and then the three of them were staring at Aya in utter amazement. Especially Yohji.

Aya was laughing.

Irvine and Squall exchanged glances.

"Can we talk now?" asked Irvine.

Squall nodded. But instead of following Irvine downstairs on his own, he took Aya's hand, clearly intending they should all go together. So they did.

They sat in the bar for over an hour, wary of each other at first, until Irvine negotiated the truth out into the open: that Aya and Squall had made a perfectly understandable mistake, and he and Yohji had been a little irresponsible, but after all, nothing was meant by it. Aya was far more stubborn about the whole thing than Squall, but Yohji just kept looking at him with his big green eyes, and finally turned to him and said "Ran. That's enough," with surprising authority. And Aya looked at him for a long moment, nodded once, and that was that.

Then they just settled down to spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other, and drinking, and Yohji and Irvine flirted outrageously while Squall and Aya rolled their eyes and exchanged sympathetic looks.

Then Irvine suggested they should dance, so they all went back upstairs, and Irvine finally got to take Squall in his arms and kiss him so hard that he could be in no possible doubt as to Irvine's motives. Yohji and Aya were grinding slowly together, looking astoundingly exotic and beautiful, almost deadly, Irvine thought. All was well in Irvine's world: Squall's butt just waiting to be groped, new friends, good music, no more fighting. And then Squall whispered something in his ear.

Irvine jerked his head back, stunned. Then a wicked grin spread across his pretty features.

"What? Really? You want… all of us? Together?"

Squall nodded, pure mischief gleaming silver in his eyes. He cupped his hand around Irvine's ear for another whisper: "Please. I know you want it too."

"And you think Aya would be up for it?" Irvine hissed back.

"Oh yes. You should have felt the way he kissed me. And he had a hard-on like an iron rod."

"Who wouldn't, babe," Irvine took Squall's earlobe gently between his teeth and flicked at it with his tongue.

"Ung… can we then?" asked Squall, "You want them too, don't you?"

"Oh yes," said Irvine, with conviction. "You little slut."

"You made me this way," husked Squall.

"Hmph. Not so sure about that… but anyway... You get the redhead, I'll go for Yohji. Ready?"

Squall kissed him, just long enough to make him certain this was really what Squall wanted.

With perfect synchronicity they made their way innocently over to where Aya and Yohji were dancing. They were completely absorbed in each other, eyes closed, bodies pressed as close together as they could possibly get without removing clothing. Which, judging by the flutter of Yohji's fingers over the laces of Aya's pants, he was actually trying to do.

Irvine slid easily into place behind Yohji, curving his body around him, stretching his hands down firm, leather-clad thighs, nestling under his hair to kiss the back of his neck. There was no resistance; Yohji leaned back just a fraction into Irvine's body, and moaned softly.

Irvine watched Squall make his approach, stealthier than Irvine's, touching Aya first just with his fingers to Aya's neck, stroking softly, then ducking in to whisper something in his ear. Aya's eyes shot open; surprise at first, then checked something in Yohji's steady emerald gaze.

Then an incredible heat started to shine in those violet eyes, and Aya reached behind to pull Squall's arms around his middle.

Irvine felt his pulse race, his erection hard and aching against Yohji's ass.

Oh, my lion. How I love you.

* * * * * * *

It wasn't long before they made their escape from the nightclub. There was only so much erotic dancing four men could do together in public without attracting attention, and none of them seemed keen to attact attention. Aya and Yohji led them back to the Koneko, while Squall tried to come to terms with the idea that Aya actually worked in a flower shop.

"Looks like Ken's still out," Yohji was whispering as he and Aya led them through the garage to the back door, "and Omi'll be asleep by now. Come on, my room. Upstairs."

Yohji's room was fairly small, but his bed was huge. Quite possibly the largest bed that Irvine had ever seen. He had time to take in only a little else of his surroundings: ashtrays, CDs strewn over the floor, a photo of Aya wearing an outrageous orange sweater; and then Yohji was kissing him, capturing handfuls of Irvine's hair and sliding his tongue sensuously into his mouth. Irvine drew back, panting, to check if Squall was okay, only to discover that he and Aya were already on the bed. Squall was finally getting to grips with Aya's laces, while Aya impatiently tugged Squall's top over his head, bending his head to tease one tiny nipple with his tongue.

"You want to watch a while?" Yohji suggested, trailing kisses up Irvine's neck, "before we show 'em how it's done?"

"Oh, gods, yes," husked Irvine.

"Just let me get you out of those clothes first," Yohji expertly divested Irvine of his top before sliding down to undo his jeans with his teeth. Irvine groaned softly at the feel of Yohji's face rubbing over his aching sex, even through the layer of denim; by the time Yohji had smoothly pulled his jeans down his thighs, his hair brushing over the silky skin of his cock, Irvine felt just about ready to explode. It was only his determination not to miss the spectacle of Squall and Aya slowly peeling each other out of suede and leather that stopped him from plunging his cock into Yohji's willing mouth there and then.

As if sensing his restraint, Yohji straightened up, and set about trying to distract Irvine with a series of kisses and playful nips to his neck and shoulders while the taller man undressed him. Finally naked, they joined an oblivious Squall and Aya on the bed, just in time to see Squall wriggling out of his pants and discarding them to join Aya's in a black pool on the floor. Yohji pulled Irvine to sit between his legs, encouraging him to lean back comfortably against Yohji's chest. He swept auburn tresses out of the way so he could rest his chin on his shoulder, and wrapped his arms around Irvine's middle, for all the world as if they were cuddling up to watch a movie together. Irvine sighed contentedly, reaching one hand back to stroke Yohji's hair. He couldn't remember feeling so comfortable with another person so quickly, in all his life.

He settled to watch with pride as Squall set about finding every one of Aya's erogenous zones, covering his body in a carpet of kisses and licks, lingering over the ones that got a response from the stunning, lithe body laid out under him.

Aya arched under Squall's touch, feathering fingertips down his spine. He marvelled at the play of muscle over that smooth back, his shoulders... Squall kissed him softly, respectfully, almost, his tongue slowly washing into Aya's mouth, his fingertips teasing one nipple… Aya moaned softly, a tiny sound, but Squall heard it, and knew what it meant. He deepened their kiss in response, and rolled back a little so he could reach between them, trailing his fingers down Aya's chest and past his navel to tangle in crimson curls. Squall pulled back then to appreciate the sight of Aya's cock, long, slender, twitching in response to his almost-touch. Sucking his lower lip between his teeth as if in concentration, Squall wrapped his hand loosely around Aya's cock and stroked, smiling to himself as Aya arched and thrust into his caress.

"Aren't they beautiful?" Yohji whispered into Irvine's ear, his hand stroking across Irvine's chest.

"Stunning," said Irvine, pushing back a little, feeling Yohji's erection pressing insistently into the small of his back.

"We're lucky, with our boys… so pale and beautiful…" he swept his tongue over the sensitive skin behind Irvine's ear.

"Yes," Irvine ran his fingertips along Yohji's thighs, tracing firm muscle.

Aya had flipped Squall onto his back, and was covering his chest and belly with kisses.

"Oh my," said Yohji. "Do you think he's going to…"

"I really think he… ungh…" Irvine lost the power of speech for a moment as Yohji cupped his balls in one hand and took his cock in the other; it was all Irvine could do to keep from coming on the spot as he watched Aya slowly sliding his mouth over Squall's erection, his eyes open, watching Yohji and Irvine through deep crimson lashes.

"Oh gods," whispered Irvine. "Yohji, I can't… I'm going to… oh, fuck…"

Aya was swirling his tongue around the head of Squall's cock, holding down those slender hips just like Irvine liked to, and watching Yohji as he tormented Irvine's eager flesh. Then Irvine heard Squall moan: "Aya, want you, now," and Irvine couldn't take any more. He came hard, his head snapped back onto Yohji's shoulder, yelling incoherently as he spurted into Yohji's hand.

"Heh. Thought you'd be a screamer," Yohji gently held Irvine as he shuddered, kissing his hair. "Fuck, you look beautiful when you come… hey," Irvine felt him lean forward a little, "Ran… over here…"

Irvine opened his eyes to see Aya crawling over the bed towards them like a prowling cat, licking his lips for all the world as if he was after a bowl of cream.

Oh. Cream.

Yohji held out his hand, sticky with Irvine's come, and Irvine held his breath. Aya's tongue darted out, just little flicks at first, as if to be sure he liked the taste, then he started to lap enthusiastically; Irvine could almost swear he heard him purr. Then Squall realised what he was doing and joined him, his near-black hair mingling with Aya's scarlet, bathing Yohji's hand long after they'd licked it clean, competing to suck his fingers, until finally their tongues found each other and they kissed, Yohji's hand abandoned, tasting Irvine in each others' mouths, grinding together helplessly.

"You're still hard," Yohji observed, pulling Irvine's hips back a little so he could press his cock more comfortably into the base of his spine.

"It's a gift," said Irvine, a little smug.

Squall was on all fours now, providing them with a perfect view of the world's most perfect butt. Aya was lying underneath him, his head tossed back, his cock deep down Squall's throat. Irvine twisted round just enough that he could take Yohji's mouth in a kiss; his hunger answered by the other man, firm, confident, knowing.

By the time they turned back Aya was running one finger down the crack of Squall's ass; Irvine realised he had a tube in one hand and his fingers were wet. Aya's face was flushed, and he was chewing his lower lip as he pushed slowly inside Squall's body, a second finger joining the first as Squall pushed back, relaxing into the invasion. Irvine waited, knowing what would come, and sure enough, as Aya found his prostate Squall jumped, dropping Aya's hardness from his mouth, and moaned. "Now, Aya… need you… now…"

"Hey, Ran," Yohji called, and Aya tore his eyes away from Squall's body long enough to toss him the lube, before turning Squall gently onto his back.

"Alright?" Yohji checked, raking his fingers down Irvine's spine, "can I fuck you now? Only if I don't get inside that hot, tight body of yours now, my balls are going to explode."

"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we," purred Irvine, shifting co-operatively so Yohji could slick his ass, welcoming stretching fingers with an appreciative groan. "Fuck, that's good…" the writhed onto Yohji's hand, feeling the burn start deep within him as Yohji massaged his pleasure centre, eyes closed, forgetting for a moment that it wasn't just the two of them. He moaned as Yohji gently withdrew his fingers, raising himself up a little to make it easier for Yohji to position his cock at his entrance. He breathed deeply, waiting for Yohji to push, but he didn't; he just waited, moving the head of his cock in tiny circles around Irvine's slick, sensitive flesh.

"Yohji… fuck me…" he whined, plaintively.

"Shhh… open your eyes," Yohji whispered, soft lips caressing Irvine's ear.

Irvine forced his eyes open and realised why Yohji was waiting.

Squall was lying trembling before Aya, one leg hooked over Aya's shoulder, as Aya leaned over him, teasing the sensitive skin of his balls with one hand, while the other stroked his hair. They were lost in each other's eyes, both quivering with anticipation so drawn out it was almost painful to watch. Squall was beyond begging now. Irvine knew that look so well. This was Squall surrendered, nothing but passion and need.

At last Aya pushed inside him, just a little, but enough that Squall threw his head back in a silent scream, clutching at Aya's shoulders and rolling his hips up to take him deeper.

Irvine was dimly aware of Aya pushing home, but only dimly, because Yohji was sliding easily inside him, beyond the initial ring of resistance and filling him, hot and hard and knowing.

Aya was lost inside the beautiful, pale body beneath him. He moved slowly, long, deep strokes, watching Squall's exquisite face as he writhed and arched, smoky eyes almost blue with lust. He was incredibly tight, so much so Aya kept checking he wasn't causing this delightful creature any pain. But there was only pleasure, the graceful rolling of hips, the subtle thrust of hard cock in Aya's hand.

"Aya… so good…" Squall heard a voice and realised it was his, soft, echoing in the haze of pleasure that had taken over his mind. Aya was so gentle, so careful and so damn hot inside him. He felt long fingers in his hair, soft lips over his, that quick, agile tongue, and his rhythm, so long he had time to mourn the end of each thrust before the next began, touching the right spot inside him every single time…

"You see," Yohji said, thrusting steadily into Irvine's body now, "this is why it's worth waiting… fuck, you feel good… when they go off in a sulk like that."

"Yes," said Irvine, "they've got us… oh, gods, yeah, like that… got us completely in their…hn… oh yeah… thing…"

"Control?… god, your hair's so soft… "

"Yeah… mind if I move forwards? You can get deeper then…"

"Oh yeah…fuck.. oh, that's better."

Yohji paused, completely buried in Irvine's body. Irvine was kneeling on all fours, copper mane spread over his back. Yohji clutched Irvine's hips and squeezed his eyes shut, biting his tongue to keep from coming.

Irvine waited patiently, watching Aya and Squall as they undulated slowly together, touching faces and hair and sucking each others fingers in wet mouths. For some reason it reminded him of cherries, and dark chocolate…

Then Yohji was moving in him again, stroking his hair down his back, telling him how good it felt, with an edge of desperation in his voice…

He looked over his shoulder, locked green eyes with violet.

"No need to wait," he said. "I want to feel you come inside me."

There was a groan from Aya, or maybe Squall, he couldn't tell which, at his words, but it was Yohji he was focused on. Yohji grinned at him, and picked up the pace, tossing his head back with pure pleasure.

"God, Irvine, you're one in a million," he said.

"Fuck me harder," Irvine suggested, "I can take it… oh yeah. Like that. Faster… give it to me, babe…"

That was just too much for Yohji; his mind blanked completely, aware only of the rush of heat from his balls, up his shaft and erupting under incredible pressure inside Irvine's hot body, again and again, until all he could do was slump, quivering against the other man's strong back, aware only of his still twitching sex and the astounding softness of the hair under his cheek.

Aya had gone beyond passion now. He'd never known anything like this; the urgent need to fuck Squall until he came had receded in a wash of pure, lazy pleasure. He was able to ignore the steady ache of his balls, such was his desire to make this last as long as possible, to keep every nerve ending in both of them alive. He heard Yohji come, beautiful as ever, completely abandoned to his orgasm, and Aya's cock twitched dangerously; he felt Squall's body tense in similar response, and stopped moving, just kissing, letting his mouth soothe Squall's, bringing them both back from the brink… just a little longer… just a little…

Yohji had recovered a bit, and pulled his softening cock reluctantly out of Irvine's body, flopping down on his back not far from Squall. Irvine leaned over him, hair falling in a curtain to tickle Yohji's face, grinning at him.

"Sugaii," said Yohji. "That was good."

"Oh, fuck yeah. It was." Irvine shifted down to kneel between Yohji's thighs. "Tell me if it's too sensitive."

"If what's too… ohmygodfuckIrvinewhatareyouohgodohgodohgod"

Irvine thought he might have heard Aya give a snort of laughter, but he couldn't be sure. He put his tongue to Yohji's balls again, this time moving down, teasing the sensitive skin just underneath.

He reached out for Yohji's hand, twined their fingers together, and kissed and licked until he felt Yohji's body relax a little, until his hips started to roll in a lazy rhythm. Then his spare hand felt for the lube, sniper-sharp senses finding it first time, and he slowly started to slick Yohji's entrance, smiling at the ease with which Yohji accepted his fingers, his cock hardening again already.

Irvine kissed his way back up Yohji's body, his throat, his jaw, taking the time for a long, serious kiss of his mouth. Yohji groaned, winding his arms around Irvine's neck, quieter now.

Irvine pulled back a little, looked into Yohji's eyes, and saw something he hadn't noticed there before. Behind the flirting, and the hot, bright love for Aya, there was a vulnerability, a grief so sharp it could never be buried. A loss. Pain.

"Shit, Yohji… do you want this?" He whispered, stroking unruly hair back from Yohji's delicate face.

"Too much," Yohji whispered. "Please."

Irvine kissed him softly as he sank inside his body; he would have paused, but Yohji whimpered into his neck and bucked his hips to force him to move, so he did, giving Yohji what he wanted with long, easy thrusts of heat and strength.

Irvine looked across and realised Aya was watching them. He caught Ran's heated violet gaze with his own: a question.

Ran nodded. "Take care of him," he whispered.

Irvine swallowed hard, and concentrating all his attention into Yohji after that, putting his whole body and mind into loving the strong, fragile man who kissed him with trembling lips and held him so close he could feel his heartbeat.

At some point Squall and Aya came together, erupting like a tidal wave and subsiding into a flurry of affectionate kisses; it was beautiful to watch. Irvine and Yohji smiled indulgently, but only briefly, before they were lost in each other again.

Finally Yohji started to moan, rising to meet Irvine's thrusts more powerfully, and Irvine reached a hand down to caress him, stroking his silky sheath over the dripping head of his erection in the rhythm he remembered, different from his own, but just as strong.

They came almost together, Irvine allowing his release only when Yohji had arched his back and screamed Irvine's name; only then did he free his own voice and pulse hot come deep inside Yohji's body. Before the last shudders had subsided, he took Yohji's mouth with his for a slow and binding kiss, brushing away the tears that fell, noiselessly, from huge green eyes. Irvine rolled carefully onto his side, cradling Yohji's head under his chin. He felt movement elsewhere on the bed: Squall and Aya were arranging pillows and comforter in a startlingly practical fashion.

They settled, then, in Yohji's enormous bed, Aya curled up next to Squall, who held Irvine's hand loosely in his own, and Yohji nestled into Irvine's side, warm and close and already asleep.

Irvine drifted, contemplating dimensions, and pain, and new friends, wondering what the word 'sugaii' meant, and why Aya had two names, and whether Selphie would ever believe him when he told her about this… and finally, he fell asleep, dreaming of dark chocolate and cherries, and emerald eyes that held more sorrow than a soul could bear, and more love than one person could need.

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