Blue White Red



Hard bass buzzes me, making everything vibrate. Soles of my feet tickled, my teeth chattering, the hair in front of my eyes dancing with the vibrations.


The singer is some wailing woman, the standard techno diva-goddess. I can't tell if she's singing in English or Japanese, or some bastard mixture of the two. I don't really care. The music's shit, but at least it's got a beat.


One hell of a beat. All of Tokyo's beautiful children dance and writhe before me. Well, they aren't exactly all beautiful, and a lot of them are far from children, and it's more like a rhythmic full-body seizure than dancing that most of them are doing, but at least it's a show. Most of them are too stoned to realize what's actually going on. Their minds are all glass, flat and smooth and cold, and I can see right through beneath. Shame there's not anything interesting.


I'm bored out of my skull. Literally. The music is shit, the beer is shit, the women are ugly, I'm too old for the men, and everyone's too wasted to properly play with. So I close my eyes and tune out the music.

BOOM. Boom. boom.

And then it's just me and a hissing sea of minds, all bland grey like salt. I catch a spark here and there - that fucking bitch I'll kill her I'll kill her tonight - how much do I have how much can I get? - I really hate these shoes why did I wear them? - but it's nothing above the standard drivel. Nothing sweet touches me, so I give up and touch out to the easiest mind to find, burning hot and pale with a stench like blood and burnt sugar.

Or it should be easy to find. Where is the little shit? If he ditched me... Ah, there he is. I know he feels me slip inside, because he gives a kind of sigh, a tremor along the lines of his mind. That's the problem with having people who don't mind you playing around in their heads; they get to be able to know when you're in there. Pain in the ass, really.

:Nagi:, I purr into his brain. :I'm bored.:

I can feel him roll his eyes. The crackle of irritation like crinkled cellophane. But I still know he doesn't mean it. :And I'm busy.: He knows how to focus it, how to give back what I give him. Makes things a lot easier than having to hunt for what he's thinking. Maybe not as fun, but... :Go find someone to fuck or kill or maim or whatever the hell it is you do.: I can tell he does not appreciate me laughing in his mind. He thinks it feels like spiders.

He doesn't really want me to go away. But he wants more than anything for me to leave him alone. He's a funny kid like that. That's why I like him so much. He's always a surprise. That and he can give me a handjob from across the room. You've got to appreciate young talent like that. :What are you so busy with? And if it's fun, can I play, too?:

He answers not with words but with a glimpse through his eyes. Back alley, up against the wall, getting drooled over by a guy who looked to be freshly paroled for child molestation charges. I let myself skim into his mind for a few moments... I love it when I'm right.

:This place must be worthless if that's the best you can do.:

:You don't think he's lovely?: I appreciate Nagi because he can manage to look like an innocent little boy even when I'm wrapped around and inside his mind. I can nearly feel his lower lip quivering. :You don't want to come out and help me play with him?:

:Might be fun.: I actually toy with the idea for a few seconds before remembering that we abused club trash last week. And the week before. We were starting to get into a rut. I make a little humming sound in his head, tickling the inside of his ears, just because I know how much he hates it. And likes it. :But I have a much better idea. Want to hear it?:

:Don't make that noise.: Another irritation crinkle, but I can feel the truth underneath it, and the second lie underneath that. I laugh out loud, then. :But what's your idea?:

:You. Me. Bathroom stall. We can make a lot of noise and I promise to tell you what we're making people think: Sometimes I'm easy to amuse.

For a moment, I feel nothing from him. And then there's velvet, and I know he's smirking. :While I make sure the stall door stays closed, I assume?: I give him a touch of affirmation. :I like the way your mind works: He has no idea how my mind works. But at least he likes what he can see of it.

:Meet you there.: I let my eyes open, still keeping a link to Nagi's mind as I push off the bar and start to head for the men's room. I feel a singing inside him, blue-white sharp that lets me know he was using his power. :Tsk, tsk. Watch what you do. Brad will be upset if we give ourselves away.: He gives me the image of his 'date' being tossed into a dumpster and I have no trouble forgiving him.

:This whole night will make Brad-niisan upset.: Creepy little nickname the brat had given our fearless leader. I liked it. I feel him laugh inside as I push open the door of the men's room. Ah, sweet filth. No one notices me come in; too many noses to the counters. :You should toss me a wad of bills when we're done. That will get some interesting reactions, don't you think?:

:Feeling nostalgic, are we?: That gets a few flashes of memory from him. I draw in a hissing breath through my teeth at the flashes of dark wet streets, love hotels, pain and pleasure and pain, money changing hands. It's almost enough to make me get a little misty for the old days. :How about you give me money instead? That would be even more interesting, don't you think?:

The laugh he gives me was a lower ripple in his mind, darker in shade. :Want to be my little whore for the night?: The bathroom door swings open and there he is, smirking at me. I can't help but smirk right back. I played fashion consultant on the little outfit he's wearing tonight, and I have to feel a little proud. It's always good to get him out of that fucking uniform, but it's best when he climbs into something like this....

You start at the bottom when you're sucking someone in with your eyes. Those delicate little feet in shit-kicking leather boots, the kind that stop at your knees with too many laces and buckles. Slim legs in too-tight jeans with more holes than fabric, flesh covered in fishnet showing through. Those are going to be a bitch to deal with. Denim tight over his crotch, tight over his ass, tight over his little hips, but hidden away by the black fabric of his shirt... but it gapes and parts at the lacing to show pale stomach, pale chest. Black leather band around slender neck, lips painted black, eyes lined in kohl. Such a pretty little thing. I'd feel perverted, if I cared.

I realize that I've just been staring, and I haven't responded. I look into those sweet, innocent eyes and say, "Of course I do." His lips curve into a smirk. He can never keep the innocent act perfect for very long. At least, not with me.

I curl my hand around his arm and just look into his eyes. No thoughts need to be exchanged here. Glances are enough, and we slip inside the middle stall together.

:We've been noticed already:, I purr into his mind as I feel another flash of him securing the stall door shut. He smiles at this, showing perfect white teeth, sharp and small. I take another second to stare down at him... :Such a pretty little whore.: ...and then my hand is inside his shirt, brushing up over his ribs, feeling cool flesh and tiny scars underneath my fingertips.

:It's the other way around tonight, remember?: Innocent eyes flash dark and his hands are on me, already working at my belt. I laugh out loud, and get another thrill of curiosity and alarm from one of our audience. I pass it along to Nagi, and he smiles.

My nails catch a nipple and scrape, then twist. Fake-innocent eyes close and he leans his head back, hissing a breath through his teeth. Red hard thought of more, harder, and I twist again, tugging at the stiff flesh. I can see his jaw tighten, and I lean down to touch my teeth to that skin.

:Then what do you want?: If I'm the whore I'll play it well. He doesn't answer solidly in words, but the image speaks more than enough. I laugh again and drop to my knees, quick to be compliant. His fingers tangle into my hair as I unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down. A quick snap of the stockings with my teeth and he makes himself useful. Blue-white flare and clothing peels itself away. The benefits of fucking freaks like us are obvious.

He's hard already, pointed at me, asking for it, begging for it. I look up at him for a second and give him a flash of what I see, a little slut half-naked and needy. He shivers faintly and retaliates, invisible fingers raking down my back and cupping my ass. :How much will you pay me?: I ask, smirking up at him as I get close enough to smell his cock, sweet and bitter at the same time.

"However much you want," he says aloud, and smirks as I let the growing shivers of curiosity and shock from around us slip from me to him. I laugh in response and grip his hips tightly. A moment of amusement at what a tiny little thing he is, and then...

From the bottom up with your eyes, but from the top down with your mouth. My lips curl around the head of his cock and I lick at him, tasting him young and sweet with all his poison underneath. He groans loudly - :You should have been an actor: - :I was a whore. Same thing: - but then I take him down and conversation stops.

I close my eyes and open my mind. My tongue flicks at him teasingly, then my lips pull from him demandingly. His mind is hot wet want as he leans his head back and moans again, thrusting into my throat. This isn't a lie. Only the skilled can lie here, like this.

I can hear his heart pounding and I can taste his blood pumping as I suck him, making sure to make the wettest noises I can as my lips slither up and down over his length. He doesn't respond to the new thoughts of arousal and embarrassment that come from our audience. He's nothing but more red hard on the inside and I laugh inside of his mind, let him taste the thought of how easy he is.

And then blue-white and there's a hand wrapped around my cock, even though both of Nagi's hands are tugging on my hair. My laugh is spiders on his brain again as he strokes me with his mind, hard and fast and exactly what I need. Such good little whores, the both of us.

I take him deep enough to choke and his brain blossoms red. He loves this, he loves this so much, every bit. He loves being pushed up against a dirty wall, being the little innocent turned slut, having me on my knees, fucking my mouth, being everything the world expects him to be and everything it would never think him to be. I draw back until his cock nearly falls from my lips and his mind shudders again. Oh, but he hates it so much, hates being a freak, hates being trash like this, hates me, hates himself, hates the world and most of all hates liking it so much. I move faster, lips pulling, tongue begging, fingers gripping his hips as tightly as the hand that's not there works me. And then his mind goes blank, he feels nothing at all, hate and love fade white to not caring at all.

He's bitter and hot on my tongue and down my throat. He shivers and gasps and moans, not acting at all anymore, and I don't bother to register what our waiting audience things. I drink him until he sags weak against me.

The not-hand doesn't still though, and soon I'm shivering and gasping myself, face pressed against his stomach. I thrust against nothing, push for more nothing, whimper at the sweetness of the nothing.

And then, for a few startlingly long seconds, I'm alone. No thoughts from him, no thoughts from them, nothing in the world except for me, my thoughts, and endless waves of white on white on white on white.

And then it's gone, and I realize that my pants are going to stain. I laugh at him and tug him down to his knees to kiss me, sweet and perhaps too soft. :That was fun. Let's do this again sometime.:

The fingers in my hair are gentle, and his eyes are a sweet half-lie of innocence again. :Next time, though, you pay me.:

Clothes are rearranged, smeared makeup is left smeared, and he lets the door open. I step out into the bathroom proper, wipe my lips on the back of my sleeve, and catch the wad of money he tosses at me.

The laughter he gives me then is real.


For D, and because of her.