The Same Deep Water As You
by Solo & Jo
chapter(s) | Story notes, disclaimers, warnings]
Tuesday 02 September
He brought out the script after clearing the dishes
off the table, and when he's gone over the dialogue for the soccer
field scene twice, he checks the clock again. Could be soon now, he
thinks, and starts skimming more randomly, stopping at scenes he's not
going to be in, the stuff that's less familiar. They could turn this
into an interesting movie, if they get their act together.
He's almost emptied his beer, but won't have another
before his guest arrives. The blinds are drawn, shutting out curious
gazes along with the darkness that has mercifully replaced the grey,
and Kame is reading in soft lamplight. He's still warm from the shower
under his clean white shirt, and slipping into the mood of the evening,
bad schedules and set intrigue fading from his mind and out of tense
muscles. Aside from the beer there's Chablis chilling in the fridge,
which is what Tatsuya would have. He also checked that he's got a
decent Rioja, and quality sake; it is a first appointment with somebody
Outside it's getting windy, and he gets up when the
blinds start flapping in the breeze, to slide the wide glass front
shut. The air seems fresh enough now anyway. He's throwing a glance at
his hair in the reflection of the window when the doorbell rings.
Kame studies the security screen for a moment before he
presses the speaker button. The style is familiar, the suit elegant but
not so that it would raise suspicion. Despite the blueish blur of the
CCTV, he recognizes the face he saw on the website. The man is taller;
still not tall enough to be gawky, but the way he ducks his head
against the wind, you'd think he's afraid of being blown away. Maybe
he's worried about his hair.
"I'm from Kitagawa Financial Services. I have an
appointment with Kamenashi-san."
"Go around the left side of the house," Kame says. "I'm
on the first floor at the back. You'll see the stairs. Ring again at
"Left, back, stairs, door," comes back through the
So Kame buzzes him in.
He casts a quick final glance over the apartment. It's
tidy enough as long as you ignore the open wall, and there's nothing to
be done about that now.
The second ring comes sooner than he expected, but when
he checks the security camera, everything is in order, and he opens the
He's seen the picture, so he doesn't stare, but the real
thing is something else.
"Good evening," Kame says, taking in the wide shoulders,
the perfect mouth, and eyes that make him flush a little when they meet
his, because he must have been staring after all. He bows slightly.
He steps back to allow him past the door, and after the
answering bow, his guest follows him with a polite, "Good evening."
"Thank you for coming out here on such short notice,"
Kame says, knowing it's an empty phrase, but he always makes a point of
"Thank you for the invitation," the man replies, not so
easily but predictably enough. He bows again. "I'm Jin."
"Please," Kame says, "get comfortable," and at that, Jin
steps out of his shoes and up into the apartment. "Did you find it all
right?" Kame asks and moves back inside, inviting Jin to follow, until
they come to a stop at the first piece of furniture. Jin nods at him
over the corner of the dining table.
"Eventually," he says. "I thought I was lost for a bit,
but then a taxi driver told me I wasn't, after all." He shrugs and
tries a brief smile, apparently waiting for an answer.
"I see," Kame says. It really isn't a common quarter for
film stars, he reminds himself. Most people would be surprised.
The ringing of the phone interrupts them.
"Excuse me." The man nods readily. Kame gets his phone
from where he left it on the coffee table, putting a few steps between
him and his guest, and flips it open. "Kamenashi."
It's Toyoda, and the first thing she does is apologize,
first for calling him in the evening and then about the photo shoot.
"Honestly, don't mention it," Kame says when she stops
to breathe. He catches Jin's curious glance, fleeting enough that it's
not rude, wishes briefly his apartment had a second room, and then is
annoyed with himself. These escorts cost as much as they do precisely
for reasons of privacy and discretion.
"I don't mind getting up early," he adds, feeling
awkward trying to be reassuring while he keeps his eyes on his
"I shouldn't have complained so much," she says. Jin is
getting interested in Kame's interior design choices, but he's welcome
to it, it's preferable to him watching Kame's phone call. Toyoda still
sounds upset. "We all get tired. I'm sorry I made a fuss. You didn't
have to do that."
"You weren't complaining," he tells her. "You always
come into work on time, you know your lines…" He also thinks she's
entitled to a little more consideration, but he's not sure how to put
that. Maybe he could figure it out better if the escort wasn't
examining the bare wiring, and the brickwork revealed where the workers
had to strip away the wallpaper. He might be expecting grander
environments from his customers.
Toyada bridges the silence with a heartfelt thank you.
"I… just – I appreciate your support."
Kame makes himself ignore Jin, thinks of work. Thinks of
intrigue and malicious scheduling. "Really, it's fine," he says in a
low voice, friendly. "I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. Get a
good night's sleep."
She thanks him a second time, and apologizes for the
interruption before she ends the call. Kame takes a moment to try to
put it all out of his mind again and focus on what he'd planned for the
evening, though wondering whether his living conditions passed
inspection wasn't really part of that either.
He sets the phone to mute and puts it back on the coffee
table. "Sorry about that," he says.
"No problem," Jin says easily, eyes lingering on the
fine layer of brick dust on the backs of the dining chairs before
"I didn't expect to be here tonight, so the cleaner
hasn't been in," Kame says, and then he wonders, impatiently, what
he'll find to apologize for next.
Jin looks like it all make sense now. "So this place
isn't where you live, it's just for— "
"—when I have to stay in town for work." It sounds
sharp, he can't believe the escort would come out suggesting—
Maybe he's overreacting.
But the man could stand to be a bit more embarrassed at
least. Instead he just nods, a little too slowly for Kame's taste,
looks around again, says, "Of course."
And then there is silence again.
Fine. Something else then. After a moment Kame asks,
"Would you like a drink?" That should not go wrong.
"A beer would be good, if you have that," Jin says. Kame
gets another one for himself, too. Maybe it will help. Get them
something like an actual conversation.
"Thanks," Jin says, and Kame nods.
"Ootomo-san recommended you," he offers, because perhaps
Jin is just shy, perhaps he needs some reassurance, too, though why it
should be up to him to make his escort feel at ease is a question he
can't plausibly answer.
"Yeah," Jin says with a little shrug. "I'm new." Whether
the apologetic note is intended, Kame can't tell. Jin adds an uncertain
smile to the raised shoulders, as if that would make it look more
charming, but if he's playing at flirting, he's doing it wrong.
"I haven't seen you at the club before," Kame tries
"I've been there for six weeks," Jin explains. "I guess
we kept missing each other." And that's the end of that. Jin ducks his
head again as if he's one of the club's cute little things barely
Kame's height, not a man grown enough and tall enough to just look
awkward and suddenly Kame is annoyed, because—
He isn't sure why. Nobody is forcing him
to help out the guy who is clearly still acquiring elementary
conversational skills. Maybe they should just get to the sex. But that…
he doesn't do it like that.
"I guess," he says shortly.
He reminds himself that Jin probably isn't being
deliberately difficult. He is a beginner. Ootomo warned him, after all.
But gods, Kame was looking forward to a pleasant evening, not to
teaching a paid escort the basics of intelligent discourse.
But clearly it's up to him. While he thinks about what
to say next, he takes the time to clear the script off the table and
put it in the bookcase along with the highlighter he was using.
"So… you're an actor," Jin says into the silence. Kame
isn't entirely sure if it's a question or a statement. It's something,
though, and by now Kame will take what he can get in terms of small
"Yes," he says. Unfortunately, there's not that much
more he can think of in support of Jin's brave efforts that isn't
bragging. It doesn't happen often that people don't know who he is.
"Is it a good role?" Jin says, motioning at the shelf –
and presumably the script – with his chin.
"I think so," Kame says truthfully. It doesn't stretch
him as much as he'd like; he's played the passionate, idealistic type
before and the more surprising material is Toyoda's, but here the
idealism comes wrapped in a decent plot, and he finds the film's
But that's hardly something he can say to an escort –
"It's a positive role," is what he settles for, because
they were doing so well on the talking front, "it fits the film, it's
very hopeful." The man nods slowly, with a thoughtfulness that Kame
doesn't find entirely appropriate. Maybe he said too much already.
"What sort of character is it?"
"What kind of teacher?"
What is this, an interrogation? Kame reminds himself of
taking what he can get and elaborates, "A literature teacher."
"Literature, huh?" Now he's being studied, and he
wonders if the next question is going to be, 'what kind of literature'.
No, probably not.
"I've seen you somewhere before, though," his guest
"I've been in a few things." He wonders if he should
list them, to help Jin out, or whether that would be bragging too.
"I don't watch much TV," Jin says, and it sounds like an
apology. "Or movies. Have you done any sports films? Soccer or
something? Maybe… I mean, that would explain where I've seen you,
"Sports films?" He hasn't.
"Not, I guess," Jin says.
Jin looks at him, perplexed. It's a pretty look on him.
Maybe they should end the conversation part of the evening after all.
"Oh wait, that—" Jin stops.
Kame knows. "The campaign. That campaign I was in about
sponsoring sports clubs for children."
Jin nods, a little reluctantly. There's something else
in his expression now, something Kame can't place but he doesn't think
he likes it much. "They play it during half-time. '… youth of Japan
He's an actor; the line's not hard
and he's said it dozens of times. "Try harder for the youth of Japan."
But it's always been a slightly stupid slogan, and it sounds worse than
Jin's opinion of it appears low, too, or maybe it's his
opinion of Kame, or, going by another one of those badly concealed
measuring glances out over the room, he's still hung up on Kame's
apparently sordid living arrangements.
Though what right he has to an opinion is debatable. He
could try to keep it to himself better. The awkwardness was bad enough,
but Kame finds his mood slipping further into irritation. He's not
paying for this, and it's been a long day and he's already been patient.
He puts his beer down. "Maybe we should…" He doesn't
need to finish the sentence; at least the guy they sent him gets that.
He, too, leaves his beer on the table. The spark of
concentration that straightens his body might promise a little less
difficulty here. "How do you want us to start?"
Kame is no longer entirely sure what he 'wants them to'
But this is his night off, why should he bother about an
escort's opinions and lack of finesse; he's primarily paying for sex
and for that… for that Jin looks perfectly suitable even now, even
while he's almost staring Kame down.
Kame gestures towards the couch. "Let's start over here."
Jin takes his jacket off and Kame is pleased to find
that the shoulders are real, not an impression created by clever
tailoring. They look good above Jin's narrow hips; they'll feel great
under Kame's hands. Jin moves well, too, so well that Kame only starts
to walk when Jin is waiting for him by the couch.
Maybe they can do at least this professionally, this
He sits down, almost comfortable, and Jin sits next to
him, their legs touching. Jin turns towards him but doesn't lean in,
holds back. "Do you like to kiss?" he asks courteously.
Kame nods, says, "Yes, that's fine," and Jin half-turns
and reaches for him, a gentle touch on Kame's chest and his lips are
full and lickable, and maybe this isn't going to be so bad; Kame
answers the movement and when their lips touch it's soft, and nice, and
he closes his eyes.
It's different from kissing Tatsuya, though he can't say
how and it seems familiar, tender and a little bit hesitant, and it
should be fine. Jin is appropriately shy about it, testing the waters,
a flick of tongue against Kame's upper lip, licking gently when Kame
Fingers in his hair now, stroking lightly past his ear,
careful; it's distracting because he has to concentrate on the kiss he
seems to know somehow, slow and tentative, the pressure that doesn't
come back right when he opens his mouth. A hand on his chest, too, up
to his neck, down again, feathery and aimless and he can't track the
kiss with the way Jin is playing with him and petting him as if they're
fumbling teenagers who are still figuring out what they want and
they're not, and he doesn't need coaxing.
So he pushes, angles his head and sucks Jin's tongue
into his mouth and that's at least something, something that's not
floating and weird and it should be better, he thinks it should be
better until Jin shifts, sits up taller and leans in, his hand sliding
up to Kame's shoulder and the touch on his head becomes forceful,
pulling him in and under and he turns his head away but Jin just moves
to the side of his face and down to his neck, bungling touch just hot
enough for Kame's skin to react with an unwelcome tingle.
He has to lean back to put a stop to it.
But Jin is looking at him, flushed and questioning, and
the last thing he wants is more discussion, so he just shifts and moves
back in, touching Jin's darkened mouth once with his fingers before
cupping the side of his face. He's in charge of the kiss now and he
turns it serious, deeper, pushing back Jin's tongue and taking
possession, and that works, the way Jin is leaning into his touch
works, would work even better if Jin weren't so much taller and if
there wasn't– Jin's hand pushing at his shirt, two buttons undone and
his hand moving inside, on his skin and Kame stops him, at once,
because no, not yet, not like this.
Jin flinches and his eyes are wide, startled, going from
Kame's face to his wrist caught in Kame's hand, and back.
Like this, Kame thinks out of
And he's getting hard; finally. This may yet work.
He holds Jin's eyes and tugs at his wrist, spreading his
legs at the same time, undoing button and zip on his trousers with the
other hand. It doesn't get plainer than this. And if he holds on to
Jin's wrist slightly longer, that's because they've had a few
misunderstandings already, and he wants to make sure there isn't one
Jin gets it, though; gets on the floor, quite
gracefully, and Jin kneeling in front of him is much, much better than
Jin looking down on him. So good that he takes a moment just to
appreciate the picture, the warm reality of that body close and
waiting, and whatever else there is flickering at the back of his mind
about Jin's eyes on him that he can't quite place becomes secondary.
So he nods, helps Jin deal with the underpants, and when
Jin licks his lips, he suddenly has to take a deep breath. He's ready
He continues to watch, enjoying himself at last, as Jin
bows his head, long dark fringe covering his eyes, the tips brushing
lightly against Kame's cock…
…and then that lick of warmth across the tip, full of
promise, slick and sure, and behind the curtain of hair he catches
glimpses of Jin's tongue moving over sensitized skin. He feels himself
sink more heavily against the back of the couch, spreads his legs
further… and Jin complies, goes down, down, mouth closing around him,
tight warmth everywhere. Pulling off, coming back. Again. Again.
When Jin's hands reach for his hips, Kame bats them
away. He doesn't want instructions, he just wants this,
now. Jin gets the message – good – and gets back to the sucking. Kame
keeps watching – the view seems to be the best thing about this
assignation and he's not going to miss any of it, and he starts to
brush Jin's hair out of his face, to see more of his downcast eyes
under his high forehead but somehow the line of concentration there is
distracting and he thinks better of it. Let Jin hide his eyes if he
The mouth around his cock is pleasurable enough, but
somehow it's not going anywhere, the rhythm is slow maybe, or fast, or
simply off. They can't even get a blow job right.
Jin must have heard his badly suppressed sigh of
impatience and he stops, looks up, lips parted and red. But Kame
doesn't want to talk, Kame has no answers either, so he pushes Jin's
head down again, keeps his hand in the thick hair as heat closes in
again around his cock, and maybe… he jerks his hips up; yes, this can
work, this feels… feels good, here's a rhythm, they can do this harder,
just a bit, and Jin shifts under his hand and it's good, and very good
and good and better, and his hips buck and his
hands tighten in Jin's hair, hold him down and thrust up, up again and
this is wrong, he doesn't do this, he doesn't like it like this, he
pulls his hands away.
He never does this with Tatsuya.
Jin stops briefly, but then he continues without looking
up; Kame approves. He forgets other escorts, forgets working
for this to work, just wants to let this happen. It continues, warm and
wet… and not quite right. Just not right. He doesn't know what it is,
but the speed is off, the rhythm is off, he hasn't had such an
unprofessional blow job in years.
He doesn't know what to do about it. He thinks he can
feel himself losing interest in a serious fashion…
…and apparently his escort can feel it, too, because he
stops, pulls off and lifts his head and for a moment he looks like he's
been there before or like he knows what Kame is thinking or something,
like he's going to say—
"Is there anything else I should do?"
Not looking at him like that would be a start, Kame
thinks, embarrassed and frustrated and he snaps, "Try harder?"
Because it's not him, he knows it's not him and what's
he supposed to do with a whore who can't even give a blow job properly?
Jin's head goes down again, a breath like he's
the one who should be impatient and then he catches "right, for the
youth of Japan," just before Jin's mouth closes around him again, and what,
who the hell does he think—
Kame draws in a shaky breath, hands in front of him
where they caught those shoulders and the escort is staring up at him
from a short distance back, sprawling from the shove. Kame stands, is
half zipped up while the guy is still recovering and the first thing
Kame does then is move away and get himself a glass of water because
he'd rather not say anything or do anything while he's this furious.
When he turns again, the man has stood up but he's in
the same place, standing very still, watching him. Watching him as
though Kame were the one not sticking to his side of the deal here.
He finishes half of the glass – three careful gulps,
three times he takes the glass down and there's that weird look waiting
for him, assessing, almost accusing. This isn't what he had in mind,
but if the guy thinks he can just wait him out, wait him out and then
walk out as if he didn't come here with a job to do —
"Fine," he says, mouth dry despite the water, his hand
still hot around the glass. "If you're having such trouble, I have a
He sees the man blink, sees him wonder,
those eyes narrowing, not so bold now, and Kame adds quite calmly,
"Bed's over there."
He puts down the glass. Watches the escort move at last,
past the armchair to the foot of the bed, where he stops. Kame waits.
"Would you like me to get undressed first?" There's
still attitude, right there in the formulaic politeness of the question.
"Go right ahead," Kame says, and leans back against the
kitchen counter to watch the show.
The tie comes loose with a smooth gesture; it could be
quite appealing if the man was at all trying, he's hot enough under the
wary glances in Kame's direction and the painstaking way of undoing his
cufflinks. Kame watches the fussing until the man has reached the last
buttons on his shirt before he decides he's at the end of his patience.
Jin stops with his hands just below the collar when he
notices Kame moving. He drops them slowly, uncertainly.
Kame stops just out of arm's reach, couch and armchair
at his back. "Go on," he nods. "Take it off."
Jin does; stands there for a moment holding the shirt,
not knowing what to do, then passes it to Kame's outstretched hand.
Kame turns to drape it conscientiously over the arm of
He has a real look then. Takes a slow step, takes a bit
more time to take it all in. Those shoulders looking just as good
naked; dark nipples an appealing contrast to pale smooth skin, and it
feels warm under his palm; Jin only shivers a little.
He skims his hand up to Jin's neck, lazy enough to catch
Jin's controlled intake of breath, sees him swallow, and when the backs
of his fingers stroke along the smooth line of Jin's jaw with soft
suggestion Jin hesitates, thinks, but then he tilts his head. Kame
steps closer, he wants to now. Jin is warmer there in the curve of his
neck, even against Kame's lips; first touch and Jin obediently bends
his head back further, letting him, and when Kame presses some tongue
against the hot skin there's a little gasp that goes straight to his
But it's— not a bad angle, no, he shifts and gives it a
bit of a suck and he can feel it echo in Jin's body— but he has to tip
his head up and stretch just enough that he thinks he'd rather not.
Well, he can change that; with his hand firm on Jin's neck and a nudge
as he turns them both, some pressure on Jin's shoulder to remind him
what his job is.
It takes no more than that to end up just like he wants
them for now, with Jin sitting on the foot of the bed, looking up at
Straining a bit to do so, because Kame steps in close
between Jin's legs. He pushes back the fringe from the dark eyes again,
his thumb tracing a frown line that isn't there and it's not quite
right either, but the hair still feels nice and thick under his fingers
and nicer still when he tightens his grip, and there's a startled blink
and a bit of resistance when Kame pulls his head back; that looks good
on him, too.
Jin lowers his eyes, just a blink, and his lips part as
if to say he's ready and that's not what Kame is going for but it's
attractive anyway, and he leans forward, tumbles them over, catching
them on one arm, Jin held between gravity and Kame's hand in his hair,
and there's none of that odd feeling from earlier when he bends down
and presses his mouth hard against Jin's.
Then Kame lets him down, has to catch his breath for a
moment but so does Jin, who's staring up at him with wet lips and
Kame can help him out there. He lifts his chin
meaningfully; Jin struggles a bit with Kame hovering over him but he
scrambles back on the bed, and is looking quite fetching, hair a mess,
stomach dipping with every nervous breath, when Kame climbs on top of
So. He likes this better anyway. He books rests because
he likes the bed and fucking and contact, and he likes
it when he leans forward and runs his hand from the faint line of hair
on Jin's stomach all the way up to his face, stretching out over Jin
and here's some friction for his cock and that mouth opening for his
tongue and that's what he wants, right there.
Nothing weird now, just wet and soft sensation and when
he's done there he puts his mouth to the neck again because that worked
too. Sucks harder this time, some teeth, and there's a small twist from
the body under him, just right, and Kame grinds his hips hard in
He lets go of the hair and there's a delicious little
shudder when he brushes his fingertips down the naked side, laying his
palm flat on the warm stomach. It's easy, with his leg across Jin's
thighs, rocking himself against a convenient hipbone, and this, this
works well with the pretty skin under his hand and the nipples that
tighten when he gives them a lick just to see. And the view is superb,
the subtle sheen of sweat, and it's not just his own breathing he
hears, coming hot and faster and good when— Jin's
hand is brushing up, a vague pressure on the small of his back that he
can do without.
He moves his own hand down, pushing that arm back with
an uncomfortable twist and he's lost the flow for a moment, but a firm
grip on Jin's hip does it, a little shove and he gets it back, and when
he's ready he pushes down harder, picks up the pace.
He feels a hardness under his hip and restrained little
movements against him and that's fine, that's how it should be, he
pushes back sharply and faster and drags his thumb over one nipple, his
mouth on hot skin, and he's got it now, knows where they're going,
slides his hand down, dips his fingers past the waistband of Jin's
trousers, so good when Jin sucks in a breath and lets him but then he
wants it off, all of it, this is going to be good too, and he's got the
belt unbuckled when there's a sliding sensation at his back and at his
sides and a brush of cool air on his skin before he even realizes and
that's not, that's not what he wants,
—and he's got enough of this, he swings his leg over on
the other side and sits up, and catches those hands and then he stops,
fixes the man underneath him with a glance because he needs him to get
the message here, he doesn't need all this interference from—
He seems to get it.
The tension fades, and he doesn't resist when Kame takes
both of his wrists in one hand and leans over him, pushing them above
his head and into the pillow.
He doesn't like it much, but Kame does, and right now he
likes the look that goes with not liking it, those brown eyes wide and
wary, a guarded expression framed by soft dark hair.
Likes it a lot.
Enough that he's ready to move on to other things, and
he presses down once on those hands, sharply, makes himself clear,
before he eases up.
The hands stay in place. "Better," he says softly, and
waits, and Jin keeps his wrists crossed and his mouth shut, and Kame
He slowly moves down, a light brush of fingers over
Jin's forehead and down his cheek, his neck, and Jin stiffens, none of
the previous lovely compliance and Kame lingers, fingertips circling on
tender skin, until he gives in at last.
Further down then, flat palms on collarbones and chest
and Jin holds still, breathes – Kame checks – evenly, and then Kame's
eyes fly up to Jin's hands because there was— no, he just flexed his
fingers but it's enough, it's too much, Kame was clear
and why should he have to worry about this, what
more does he have to do to make the man follow simple directions?
He stares him down for long seconds, until nothing is
moving at all, only the rise and fall of Jin's chest, and a nervous
blink, once. "You're nice like this," he mentions.
Nice… and open and beautiful, and
finally still, letting Kame focus; ready for what Kame wants and
letting him have it, and Kame is ready too, and maybe—
Kame moves down, randomly touching – beautiful, good
like this – and he settles on Jin's thighs. He pulls the belt through
the loops of Jin's trousers easily, is pleased when Jin lifts up a
little, helping. The belt still in his hand, he brushes the skin above
the waistband, makes Jin shiver again, and yes, perfect
like this, and he stretches upward and leans over Jin, who swallows
hard and tries not to hold his breath when Kame presses one hand down
on his wrists again. Kame feels the startled look run through him hot
and sharp, and his voice goes rough. "Let's keep you like this."
He lifts Jin's wrists and he's got the belt right there,
and Jin's eyes go wide with a flash of something
that Kame doesn't mind at all but the next thing he feels is a blow
against his shoulder and he's toppling, a sharp pain in his wrist as he
catches the wall and his knees hit the ground.
The escort is half a room away, backed up against the
dining table, staring at Kame where he landed in the gap between the
wall and the bed.
First thing Kame does is get up. Next thing, he takes a
breath to speak, but the man is quicker or in more of a hurry.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I don't do that."
What, Kame thinks, do what? They
were going to have sex. That's his job, that's what
this guy gets paid for, a lot, and it's also his
job to be accommodating about it.
He's standing now, but there's no point going near the
guy again. "Anything else you don't do?" he enquires, because he's
curious. "Do you fuck?"
What was Ootomo thinking of? New, fine. But… incompetent?
"I'm sorry," the escort repeats doggedly, edging towards
the chair, snatching off his shirt and backing away again. Kame lets
him. "I think you should make an appointment with someone else."
Kame gives him a long, even look. "Do you."
The man drops his eyes, and he's managed to get his arms
into his shirt and now he's trying, also incompetently, to button it up.
Kame walks around the bed and leans against the arm of
the couch, watching the clumsy fumbling, which gets clumsier with every
furtive look the escort sends him from under his thick eyelashes.
Not just that, the buttons are misaligned. Kame thinks
he may be beginning to find this funny.
"Watch those buttons," he says. "I can't have someone
leave my place looking like they just failed to have sex."
The escort – escort! – freezes,
glances down his front, then starts undoing the buttons again
tortuously. Kame wanders to the bar, giving him a wide berth, and has a
Finally, everything is in order, and that means the man
has to look up from his fiddling and at Kame again. By then, Kame
doesn't even care about the trapped, defiant look any more. He just
wants his own space back.
"Goodbye," he says, opening the door and standing back
from it because gods, we don't want to frighten the paid escort.
The man takes a deep breath and walks past him very
straight, very tense, and then he's gone at last.
Kame throws out the barely touched beer; then he sits
down to finish his own, willing his heart to slow down. Damn. He's
going to get up at four in the morning and he's more on edge now than
he was before this guy showed up all opinionated and
weird, and it's not like he will walk out on his
job because he doesn't get to pick just how to do it.
He fingers the beer bottle, feels a faint ache in his
wrist. He's restless, his skin all prickly and wrong, and maybe he
should go for a run; but looking out, he sees the rain has started
again. He opens the windows again anyway, cool air in his face; but
still he feels a flush every time he thinks of that look on— this guy
and this is ridiculous.
He'll have to call the club tomorrow. He's not paying
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