Reven scrabbled for his torn jeans, and pushed his feet hurriedly into them. "Look - " he began, then stopped, and took a breath. He realised that, not for one minute, did he doubt that Inoue could do exactly what he said he would. It made him shiver. "Look, guy, Inoue, whatever. Thanks for the help and the food and - whatever. Let's face it, I care as much for Chad as I do someone else's turds." He knew there was meant to be some kind of loyalty towards a pimp, but he'd never been that kind of whore; that's why the two of them had always clashed.

"But I don't wanna get involved in some kinda gang warfare shit, if all you want is to shag my ass, and then flex your muscles to show him who's the dominant male. And if you're in that line of business y'self, there must be an easier way to buy me over -" he looked up quickly, trying to see if he struck a nerve - trying to learn something more about this guy than the jack shit he already knew.

Inoue's eyebrows rose slightly.

"Gang warfare? Shag your ass? In that line of business?" The questions were rhetorical, and with each one his temper shortened. "None of the above, slut. You passed out in front of me and I had no choice but to leave you there or bring you here... You've seen my apartment, and my face. I take lives for a living. If you ever leave, I'll kill you. But I refuse to deal with anybody coming to look for you, which is why I'll kill this Chad. Get it yet? I'm not after your ass." He scowled at the kid and went to his dresser, opening the top drawer and rummaging though it.

He finally found what he was looking for. Inoue removed a twelve-inch blade and unsheathed it, inspecting the steel and nodding before sheathing it once more and tossing it on the bed. "Don't touch it," he said curtly, still peeved. "I'll cut your hand off if you do."

Reven sat deadly still, trying to assimilate it all. He couldn't take his eyes from the blade.

The feel of a knife on flesh was still sharp in his memory - the slice though nerves and blood vessels still a sucking, squealing noise in the depths of his eardrums. The guy wasn't some do-gooder - wasn't some new john, who just happened to be more pleasant than others.

Nor - it seemed - was he yet another pimp. He 'took lives for a living', he'd said. He was a killer! By choice... by profession. Reven had heard about such guys - Chad had a couple of heavies he used for the more gruesome jobs. But that didn't seem the same, somehow.

Reven looked at the apartment around him - the trappings of comfort, and wealth, and self-assurance - and the sob rose back to his throat. When was it he'd said, this guy couldn't be any worse? He sat here, nothing on but his jeans round his ankles, and a half empty glass of juice in his hand, and Inoue was discussing the murder of his pimp, and his own entrapment.

I gotta think fast, thought Reven. Damned fast!

Inoue removed another smaller 6 inch blade and thumbed the tip before placing it atop the dresser and heading back to the bed. He took the glass and apple core from the boy, then placed his hands on Reven's shoulders, looking him in the face.

"I'm not asking, kid. It's not a choice. You stumbled into the wrong person yesterday, and your life is going to change drastically because of it."

The raven-haired boy was attractive when his eyes went wide and innocent like that.
Inoue reprimanded himself internally the moment he thought it. He had taken lovers before, and knew the consequence...

All a lover meant was one more grave to visit.

Reven flinched under the guy's gaze - there were things flickering in those deep eyes that he didn't understand. But it'd been made very clear what he had to do. He took a deep breath. "I guess it'll be another day," he said, as calmly as he could. He saw Inoue's eyebrows raise in question. "Chad - before he tracks me down. He's already had a day to get started. I don't think I was seen, but he owns most of the lowlife round here, and I'm assuming this apartment is no more 'n a couple blocks from where you found me. Someone will have seen me - someone will know who to ask about an injured boy. Even if you're further away, he still has contacts all over the city. Assuming he wants to find me - he'll have sent out his scouts already. There's three main guys - they cover security. They protect him, and they - ah - discipline the kids."

He saw Inoue's mouth open to ask a question, so he answered it for him, first. "Yeah, he'll want to find me, though i can't say I've earned him much these last few months. But I - well, I borrowed something from him before I left so - ah - hurriedly. He'll want it back."

Good, cooperation. It had taken showing his fangs before the boy would work with him, but if thatís what it took Inoue was game. "Fine. My next job isn't for another four days, so that's plenty of time to wipe out the infestation. Let's see..." he started doing murder mathematics in his head.

Three heavy goons, likely forty underground connections... those types tended to betray each other after only one slice to the fleshy innards. Including Chad... "I can have them all in the missing files before sunrise the third day," he nodded, pulling away from Reven and resuming rummaging through the drawer.

"And what about me?" said Reven, still trying to keep the shake out of his voice. He pushed back his hair, stared at the guy's back until he turned again to face him. He had to keep his nerve here - he had to find some strength, else he'd be nothing but another Missing statistic himself.

He didn't delude himself - he'd already thought this guy was a loner, hadn't he? For whatever reason he patched Reven up, and kept him alive so far - there was no guarantee that would continue. He hoped he looked brave - he wasn't sure his stomach felt it. "What will you do with me while all this is going on?" And afterwards, he thought. What happens afterwards?

"I don't know yet," Inoue said frankly. "There seem to be three options presented before me. I could teach you what I know, I could use you as a whore for myself, or I could kill you here and now."

If the kid expected the answers to be sugar-coated, he was seriously mistaken.

"Any one of the three you prefer?" he added as an afterthought.

"Right," thought Reven. He understood the words, but the context was confusing him. He felt goose pimples on his naked skin, sitting here, discussing his potential future with this frightening man.

"Kill with me, fuck with me, or be killed," the redhead elaborated low in his throat, staring at Reven head-on once more.

Not for the first time, he wondered what would have happened if he'd stayed in that client's apartment, what seemed like a century ago now. He licked his suddenly dry lips, and steadied his breathing again. "Guess I don't want to be killed," he said. His voice sounded loud in the sudden tension of the room. "You're gonna be kinda busy on that sorta stuff over the next few days. And although I might have a preference for the fucking option -" he couldn't help the admiring flicker of his glance to Inoue's body, still standing in front of him, confidently naked, "I'm not a particularly attractive prospect at the moment, am I?"

He looked down at his battered body, rather sadly - at his bruised limbs; at his shrivelled little cock, scared into a half-mast hideout. And there was his throbbing, injured leg. Funny - the thought of imminent death had taken his mind off the pain. But how long would this guy want to keep him if they fucked now?

He looked back up, hoping the pleading tone to his voice wasn't reflected in his expression. "Guess I'd like to consider a career change." He saw the shiver across the older man's eyes - was he pleased? Angry? "Teach me," he said, more confidently. "Teach me to do what you do!"

Inoue felt a tingle streak down his spine and across his chest and stomach. The kid had practically said 'I wouldn't mind sex but teach me how to kill'. Granted he hadn't had much of a choice, but the redhead could still feel his lust awakening to hear the words.

He had uttered the very same ones himself to his teacher, years ago...

Memories of their times together filled him, and Inoue drew away from the boy, crossing his arms and looking anywhere but at the raven-haired youth on his bed.

The nights with Master had been amazing, and his days filled with new lessons, new tactics for the kill...

But Master was dead now, another on the List of Graves-- and it was Inoue's fault.
No. What he had shared with Master was not to be repeated on this child... was it?

He couldn't do that. Of course someday he'd die, likely long before his time, but the blow would be double should he have an intimate relationship with the boy alongside professional.

Reven was scared - and he was thrilled! He didn't know what he was saying - what he was agreeing to - but he knew that shudder across Inoue's frame, as he'd faced him. He knew the look of sudden hunger - the flare of interest in his pupils. He'd seen it often enough, though in a different context.

The guy was turned on - his body had responded in a way that his calm, cruel words did not. Reven wondered what this meant for him - wondered, also, at the matching shudder in his own body. Was it fear of what he was signing up to - or something more exciting; more stimulating? I've never killed anyone, he thought. Never. Killed. Never. But somehow, his mind refused to back off - his curiosity peeked its head round the corner and teased at him.

A fascinated, morbid curiosity - to see what it was like; to see what it meant; to see what this man found so absorbing in his own life.

And thrilling.

"If you had I probably wouldn't offer you the job," Inoue muttered, scooping up his knives and concentrating on putting them away. "Get dressed, lest you get sick and become useless to me."

Truthfully, he just needed the boy dressed before he pinned the young body to his bed and mounted it with animal lust.

How long had it been since his last sexual encounter? He couldn't remember an exact date... he had lost most interest after Master's death three years ago.

Inoue placed the last knife back in its drawer and closed it.

Reven still stared at Inoue - he didn't realise he'd spoken the words out loud; his bewildered shock at the thought of killing someone. He wanted the man to look properly at him - he wanted to see what emotions had been awoken in those dark, red-flecked eyes.

But he knew that the moment had gone. Inoue had control of himself again - and of Reven, too. "I'm alive," Reven thought. "Not due for the morgue just yet." He was aware suddenly of his nakedness - of a gentle chill around him. And - most surprisingly - a stirring in his groin.

Fuck, talk about inappropriate timing, eh? He wriggled round on the bed, tugging up the leg and a half of his jeans, and buttoning the one remaining button at his fly. Then he stood up, to fetch his shirt back from the bathroom.

He felt eyes at his back - there was a prickle between his shoulder blades. But no words - no offer of help. Reven gritted his teeth, straightened his bare shoulders, and limped slowly towards the bathroom, to finish his dressing.

Inoue sighed as he saw the kid limping. "Stop," he said, walking over to him and picking him up gently. "Where do you want to go? If you keep walking on your bad leg it's going to take longer to heal."

Reven turned more quickly than either of them expected, and came suddenly up close against Inoue's body. He could feel the warmth from the man's well-muscled body - he could see his eyes widen, warningly - feel his breath on his cheek. "Gotta get dressed, like you said," Reven said, rather harshly.

He thought his own heartbeat rather too fast - was he scared again? There was an uncomfortable twinge inside his torn jeans. Slowly, he brought a hand up and held it between them, like he held them apart, though he never touched Inoue's body. He had a wild desire to look down - to see if the excitement he'd seen earlier in the man's expression was reflected between his legs; but something in the dark eyes held him, and prevented him. "My - shirt's in the bathroom," he said, rather unnecessarily. "My briefs - whatever. I do usually wear clothes between - appointments - y'know? Or - you wanna go the second option anyway?"

He didn't know what made him do it. Christ, wasn't there enough tension in the room? Hadn't he narrowly escaped being sliced up already?

Inoue fought dropping the kid on the floor then and there and sinking his foot through the little ribcage with every word that slipped out of him.

"You're tempting me?" he breathed dangerously, unmoving and still holding the boy, though his grip tightened. "Don't tempt devils whose dances you don't know."

Reven paled. His leg throbbed with renewed pain - he felt the barely suppressed strength in the hands around him, and the pathetic size of his own, young, inadequate body. He tasted his own stupidity like a tangible fruit. He gathered his wits with an effort, but he answered in a low, subdued tone. "Like I haven't seen my share of devils- enough to know when I don't even wanna be on the floor with them. I didn't mean to offend you. Just gotta poor sense of humour, y'know?"

Inoue sighed again, closing his eyes. What was the point of playing games here?

Was he really going to suffer and keep his cock in his pants for the years it would take to perfect the child's training? Not likely... so why resist now?

He leaned down slowly, still unsure of whether this was a good idea, and let his lips brush against the baby-soft skin of Reven's cheek.

"I don't have a sense of humour," he murmured quietly.

Reven was almost shocked - the lips were cool on his cheek. He could smell the soap from their earlier wash; and there was the slightest taste of juice hovering only inches from his mouth. The hands on his body tightened even further; the crimson hair fell forward, and brushed against his face, threads of it catching between his parted lips.

He felt the ache inside him, very low; very insistent. He hadn't felt such an attraction for quite some time. He heard Inoue's sharp intake of breath - he couldn't tell if it were from desire or anger. Slowly, he moved his head round, to bring his lips to meet the other man's.

Inoue halted as his mouth met with the boy's. Now, this was something he was the novice with-- he had never kissed another before.

Master had always demanded that they never kiss...

His will weakened, and he turned back to his bed, laying the boy on his back and parting the kiss, though his lips remained a twitch away. He didn't know that he was ready for this. That, and it maddened him that a child knew how to kiss when he didn't.

He slid his hands out from under the boy, and pulled back slightly. His first instincts had been right-- it was probably best to leave their relationship at a professional level.

Reven felt the hesitation in the older man - it intrigued him. He was used to it in some of his johns - some of the guys who'd spent all their time denying what they wanted, and making some girls' lives a fucking misery. But Inoue wasn't like them.

Reven knew this, like he'd never been surer of anything in his life. This man knew who he was - knew what he wanted. This was to be his choice, when it happened. If it happened. Reven lay still, breathing up into the other man, feeling the rising heat between their bodies. He had slipped a hand to his waist, playing with the button of his jeans.

There was so little to 'em now, one wriggle of his hips, and they'd be back on the floor - he was ready for it. But his hand didn't move. Something in Inoue's eyes made him pause - something that told him two different stories. A tale of desire, that Reven knew the fucking soap opera to.

But also a tale of pain - a tale of fear. His leg twitched in complaint, but he ignored it. It was funny, how he felt the vulnerable one, when Inoue was still as naked as the day he was born - and there was no mistaking the warm, damp swelling that pressed gently at Reven's leg.

He only had to reach up, to touch it - to tease it just the way he knew was the best - the way to encourage the most nervous of lovers.

But still he didn't move.

Inoue's hand ghosted over the boy's stomach slowly, feeling the smooth flesh, so young and soft. His mouth was dry and his length was wakening slowly at the sight of the boy lying there, staring up at him, eager.

He was so tempted! But he couldn't! This was a child, even if he did spread his legs for a living, it didn't change the innocence that is robbed when a teacher takes his student!

He was the very first to know that!

...And still, the other side of him argued back, you loved those years with Master, even though they cause you pain now. You'd go through them again in a heartbeat.
Inoue was lost with indecision as his calloused fingers felt the warmth rising from the soft flesh beneath them.

Reven saw Inoue's eyes flicker down to his groin - he was watching Reven's fingers, hesitating around the button. His breath exhaled - it tickled at Reven's mouth, and his lips tingled with anticipation.

When Reven pushed at the fabric, he didn't seem to protest - Reven had to take that as tacit approval, didn't he? He didn't know what drove him to his next move - something mad inside him, asking for trouble - something in shock and fear from all that had happened in the last day, asking for comfort. But he reached his head that small fraction higher, and he pressed his mouth to Inoue's.

Reven felt the shiver back down through his mouth like an electric current. He'd never known anything like it! What the hell was he doing here? He'd wanted to find out more about this man - he'd wanted to know what had possessed him to offer Reven those amazing options - what control he had, to resist using the helpless boy, like anyone else would have done, rolling him harshly on to his face, and pulling his legs apart for quick and satisfying use.

It would have been so easy, so many opportunities - just for fun; just for the hell of it; just because he was there.

The redhead inhaled sharply as their mouths met, and he was ensnared.

Decisions he had been trying to avoid making were made for him in an instant, and he tugged the boy's jeans away from him, throwing them on the floor and running his hand further down Reven's stomach, across his hip and between his legs. He touched the boy's already weeping length with a feather-like brush, while touching his lips down on the pouting mouth beneath him, unsure still as to the nature of a real kiss.

He did however know what to do with the unyielding flesh he had at hand... He closed his fingers around it and ran them down the length slowly, testing to see Reven's reaction.