On the Run

by Jet Mykles

  Abyssinian settled his own pack on his back and bag over his shoulder, clutching the katana in his left hand. He nodded when he was ready.

  Balinese mirrored the nod, then led the way out the window.

  They hugged the shadows, keeping to alleys as Balinese led the way to the car lot. Stealing a car wasn’t a permanent solution but it would get them out of town.

  He ran different possibilities through his head as he tailed Balinese. He still hadn’t figured out what the best plan was or when they should contact Krittiker. Or if they should contact Krittiker. It was a mission for them, after all, which had put them on this path. Or had it. Either Krittiker knew of some entity gathering data on Weiss or had sent them to plug up a hole. But no, the last couldn’t be true. No one had been killed on that mission. Abyssinian’s presence had been purely for protection.

  Who was gathering data on Weiss? And why? Who even knew for sure that they were still alive? In hindsight, Aya had wondered why Krittiker allowed them to keep their names. They’d even provided Yohji with another Seven, which was highly suspect.

  Why hadn’t Aya thought about this earlier?

  You didn’t want to. He didn’t. He hadn’t. He’d been quite content to let the icy killer thaw and rest while resurrecting some of the human being he used to be, ages ago. He’d wanted to badly just to live. To be.

  With Yohji.

  Focus!

  The tall assassin stopped up ahead at the edge of shadows between two buildings. He pressed his back against the brick of the building and peered out. Abyssinian waited further back, scanning the darkness behind them before he followed. A dark shape skittered through the deep brown shadows at the end of a passageway as he stole across the opening. Abyssinian’s mind went cold, his senses kicking on higher alert. He flattened against the corner just near the opening, quickly but quietly dropping his bags to the ground beside him. A brief glance toward Balinese showed the blond had noticed his move. Without questioning or hardly making a sound, the taller assassin dropped his own bags and crept to the wall opposite Abyssinian, making sure to he could not be seen in the opening.

  The man was good, Abyssinian would give him that. He could barely hear the footfalls approaching. Too many footfalls. He glanced at Balinese, freeing his hand from the hilt of his katana only long enough to hold up two fingers. He then changed it to one and pointed it at Balinese.

  Balinese nodded, scanning above him. There was a fire escape landing not far above him, the ladder within easy reach, but reaching the landing would cause too much noise. Abandoning the idea, the blond widened his stance and held out his arms before him, one finger poised over the watch that was far more than just a timepiece.

  Abyssinian crouched, turning back toward the entrance to the side passage. He clicked his katana free of its sheathe with his thumb.

  Before he even saw the man, the wire sang through the air. A male voice cried out and a shadowy body stumbled past the swordsman into the main alley, shining silver threads circling his forward arm. A gun dropped from that hand, clattering to the pavement mere seconds before the heavy fall of his body.

  Abyssinian didn’t wait. Keeping low, he sailed into the passageway. A muffled shot sounded and the passage of the bullet whizzed over his shoulder as he lunged, blade out and expertly aimed at the heart of the second assailant. A second gun clattered to the pavement.

  The wire sang beside the swordsman as he shoved his victim off his blade.

  Another muffled gunshot sounded.

  Balinese grunted.

  Abyssinian trod over the corpse before him, bloodied blade slicing upward to cut open the chest of the third assailant.

  The narrow passage behind the third man was empty. Aya forced himself to retain his icy calm and raced to the end to make sure all opponents were dispatched.

  His heart, however, tore.

  Yohji was hit.

  The passage opened into another, better lit alley. But other than two cats that skittered away when he rounded the corner, there was nothing. No more shadows. No one else to kill.

  Katana clutched in his hand, Aya spun back just in time to see Yohji stagger toward the first alley. He caught up to him just as Yohji sagged against the corner, still in the passage. He muttered softly, holding silver wire in one gloved hand, using the finger from that hand to press a button on the watch that drew the seemingly delicate length back inside.

  Aya stopped beside him, scanning that tall body. He found what he was looking for sticking out of the meat of Yohji’s upper arm.

  A dart.

  “Don’t.” Yohji stopped him when he reached for it. “It’s barbed.”

  Aya hissed. “How do you feel?”

  Yohji grimaced, watching shining silver wire retract into the watch. “Like I’ve been shot with a dart.”

  Aya snarled, reaching for the lapel of Yohji’s mission coat, intent on taking it off. “Baka, this is not time for…”

  They both froze at the sound of a car screeching to a halt on the street outside the main alley. A door opened and footsteps rushed in their direction. The car was still running.

  Aya looked up at Yohji, glanced at the wire that was only half retracted into the watch. The watch’s second length was still wound around one of the bodies. The third and fourth wires would still be inside the watch, but the length Yohji currently held prevented him from loosing them.

  All this he saw in a tenth of a second. Abyssinian resurfaced and he sailed into the main alley. He barely even saw the man who gasped in shock just before he died.

  “Can you get to the car?” Aya asked, dropping to his knees briefly to wipe blood off the katana on the corpse’s knit jacket.

  “Yeah,” a pained voice behind him affirmed.

  Aya had to trust his word. At least for the moment. He sheathed his blade as he stood and sped to his bags. Hurriedly, he gathered them and ran to the open door of the blue sedan left running. He unlocked the back door and threw the bags in. Returned to the alley for Yohji’s bags, taking a brief opportunity to scan the street as well. Empty. Dark except for the car lot that had been their destination shining a few blocks away.

  Yohji straightened from the first corpse, more wire in his hand, and staggered toward the car. Aya moved toward him but Yohji waved him off. “Get in and drive.”

  Aya climbed in. Yohji made it to the open back door and fell in. Aya barely waited for the door to close before he sped off in the opposite direction of the car lot.

  They were quiet for a long time. Aya forced himself to concentrate on streets, watching their trail, not listening to the grunts and strained breathing from the backseat.

  “Fuck.”

  “You okay?”

  “No.”

  Aya glanced in the mirror to see Yohji with his hand gripping his arm where the dart had been. It was too dark and his mission coat too thick for Aya to see how much he was bleeding.

  “It’s a tranq,” Yohji muttered.

  “What?”

  Yohji tossed the dart into the passenger seat beside Aya. “There. I picked up one of their guns too… thought it’d be handy.” Yohji’s drawl was drawn out, sleepy. “It’s a tranquilizer gun. There’s a box of darts here on the floor too.” He laughed, sounding vaguely crazed as he slumped. “They’re not trying to kill us. They’re trying to catch us.”

  Aya grunted, coming to the same conclusion himself. He wasn’t sure the information was comforting. But, at the moment, he couldn’t quite care. “You’re sure it’s not poison?”

  “Not according to the box.”

  Said box, or something like it, tumbled and spilled its contents on the floor of the backseat. Aya glanced in the mirror and didn’t see his companion.

  “Yohji.”

  “Gotta sleep now,” came the mumbled reply.

  “Yohji, don’t.”

  “Can’t… help…”

  “Yohji?!”

  Aya’s hands trembled on the steering wheel. He didn’t dare stop. He only vaguely knew
where he was and still wasn’t entirely certain they hadn’t been followed. It stood to reason that they hadn’t. It was clear to him now that the first three had intended to put he and Yohji down with the darts, picked up by the fourth in this very car. It might have worked if Aya hadn’t spied the first.

  He wanted so badly to stop and make sure that Yohji was okay but he didn’t dare. He had to get them to relative safety first before he could make sure that his lover was even still alive.

  - NO DISTRACTIONS -

  Yohji woke to a burning urge to pee and a cottony head. The lack of headache and alcoholic taste in his mouth told him it wasn’t a hangover. Still…

  Oh yeah, right. You were shot. Last thing he remembered was being in the backseat of that car and dropping the box of darts while…

  “Aya?”

  No answer. Then again, he probably hadn’t’ been very loud or coherent since his mouth was half buried in a pillow. Summoning strength, he pushed up, bracing on one elbow.

  He as in a relatively small, sparsely decorated room that had one curtained window and two doors. One of the doors was ajar to reveal pale yellow tile and part of a mirror, hinting at a bathroom. The heavy, dingy red and gold curtains were parted ever so slightly down the middle, enough to let him guess that the light coming through the crack was sunlight. Yohji turned, tangling his legs in the white sheets of the bed, the room’s largest piece of furniture. There was also a table and three chairs and a battered dresser. A small refrigerator sat beside the dresser with a double burner plate on top of it. His bags and Aya’s were up against the wall beside the bathroom door. His mission coat was draped over one of the chairs, with his jeans and what might be his shirt keeping it company on the seat.

  “Aya?”

  Again no answer. No sound other than a faint whine of the refrigerator and a slow drip from the bathroom.

  Alarmed, Yohji spun again, now realizing that he was naked. In bed. In a strange place. Alone.

  “Ay…?”

  A note lay on a small table beside the bed, written in Aya’s spiky scratch on a piece of paper with a motel’s logo on it: Went to get food. You’re safe here. Stay put. A.

  Yohji had to smile. Okay, so the note wasn’t incredibly romantic, but Aya had put his cigarettes and lighter right next to it. How thoughtful. Yohji laughed as he got up to go pee. Of course, Aya also knew that, of anything, Yohji would definitely find his cigarettes.

  He stumbled a bit on his way to the bathroom, still groggy from the sedative. Groggy enough that after he’d relieved his bladder, he tumbled back into the bed and curled up to sleep some more, without even bothering to light up.

  Aya was there when he woke again. He opened his eyes just as the redhead was taking off his black t-shirt.

  Yohji hummed happily, hugging the pillow underneath his head. “Now that’s a sight to wake up to.”

  Aya threw the shirt aside and came to sit on the bed with him, just out of arm’s reach. “How do you feel?”

  Yohji sat up, yawning and stretching. He managed to hide a grin when he caught Aya checking out his bare chest. “Tired kinda. But I’m okay.” He dropped his hands into his lap. “Where are we?”

  “Motel in the middle of nowhere. Cleanest and most secluded place I could find.”

  “I take it we weren’t followed?”

  “Not as far as I could tell.”

  “Was there anything in the car that was helpful?”

  Aya’s full lips twisted in a grimace. “No. If I trusted contacting Kritiker the types of darts of the registration of the guns might do something but…” he shook his head, staring at the abstract painting over the dresser.

  “Hn.” Yohji winced at the sharp pain in his arm. He turned it over to take a look and saw the healing scab.

  “You okay?”

  He turned back to violet eyes. Concerned eyes. Concern for him. He smiled. “Yeah.”

  Silence for a moment as they gazed at each other. Yohji let his eyes go seductive, pursing his lips a bit. He started to let himself lean slightly forward.

  Aya blinked. Stood. “Hungry?”

  Yohji frowned. Aya hadn’t touched him. Well, hell, you didn’t touch him either.

  “Yeah,” he said, leaning forward onto all fours and crawling to the foot of the full sized bed. Not nearly as big as he’d like it to be, but at least it wasn’t a twin.

  Aya had his back to him, rummaging through some bags of takeout. Yohji admired the sleek pale skin of his back, liking how it smoothed over chiseled muscle. The jeans rode low so he could also admire the graceful taper of Aya’s chest into his waist. The sweet dimples just above the not-quite-visible curve of his ass. Yeah, he was hungry. Food would probably be good, but right now he wanted to take a bite out of Aya. His cock agreed.

  Aya turned around, a carton and a pair of chopsticks in each hand. He froze at seeing Yohji. The look on his face was blank. Not exactly what Yohji was hoping for.

  Yohji cocked his head. “Hi.”

  Still no visual clues. Aya just kept staring. “Hi.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “What?”

  Yohji grimaced and pushed up onto his knees. He saw Aya take a look at his naked self. He was pretty sure he just saw a twitch in the bulge in those pants. He held out his arms. “Kiss me.”

  Aya didn’t move. Violet eyes averted and Yohji’s blood went cold. What the hell…?

  “We shouldn’t,” Aya mumbled.

  “Why?”

  “We’re…”

  “You said we weren’t followed.”

  “We weren’t.”

  Yohji studied Aya carefully. He refused to believe Aya was brushing him off. He wouldn’t believe. He wasn’t done with Aya so Aya couldn’t’ be done with him. It was just that simple.

  “Then what is it?”

  Aya didn’t answer.

  Where the hell did the sex kitten go and who invited the ice prince back? Ice was all well and good when their lives were on the line but… But… Damn it! Yohji had a deep, abiding need for life affirmation after he’d killed someone and sex was the best life affirmation that he knew.

  He crawled off the bed, only wincing slightly at the burn in his arm.

  Aya kept his eyes averted. Bit his lip.

  Aha! The lip biting was a good sign. The ice prince wouldn’t bite his lip. Abyssinian wasn’t uncertain. Ever. Aya, however…

  Yohji took hold of each carton in Aya’s hands and took them away, reaching around Aya to place them on the table. Aya stumbled back into the table in a useless attempt to avoid touching him.

  Yohji ended up with both hands leaning on the table to either side of the object of his obsession, his face inches away from the other man. Pink lips snarled just a bit and sooty lashes formed lace on high cheekbones as Aya kept his eyes hidden. Long, crimson hair fell in a sheer curtain across the left side of his face. “God, Aya, you’re beautiful.”

  Aya turned his face away, failing to hide the pained look. His hands gripped the table’s edge just inside of Yohji’s.

  Yohji reached up to brush crimson hair from pale cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

  “We shouldn’t…”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t…”

  Yohji brushed his lips across one pale cheek, marveling at the soft perfection of the man’s skin. He heard Aya swallow. “Can’t what?”

  Aya tilted his head back and Yohji took advantage and bent his head to delicately taste the warm skin just under Aya’s ear.

  “Yohji…”

  “Fuck me, Aya.”

  Aya shook, rattling the table. “Stop.”

  “Can’t.” He slid his hand into Aya’s hair, cupping the back of his skull. He brought his other arm to circle Aya’s waist and stepped into him so that his wakening cock brush the waistband of Aya’s jeans. Warm chest brushed warm chest. “Want you too much.”

  Aya gripped his waist, feebly trying to push him back. “Yohji, stop.”

  “Why?”

  �
��I… can’t. Not when we’re…”

  He nipped at Aya’s chin. “What?”

  Strong hands came up to grasp his shoulders and push. Yohji hissed as the move stretched the wound on his arm, but he managed to keep his arm around Aya’s waist and his hand tangled in crimson hair.

  Violet eyes seared into his. “We’re on a mission.”

  Yohji shook his head, instinct telling him to hang on and hang on tight. “No. We’re running.”

  Aya scowled. “No difference for this. I can’t maintain control if you’re…”

  “If I’m what?”

  Calloused fingers bit into Yohji’s shoulders. “God, Yohji, you’re distracting enough as it is! If we keep sleeping together I’ll lose it and one or both of us will get killed!”

  Aya tried to shove him away but Yohji anticipated it. Was kind of shocked that he did but he wasn’t going to question it now. He held on and yanked. Aya fought—badly—and ended up banded in Yohji’s arms anyway, bare chest to bare chest. Yohji fisted his hand in silky hair and forced a punishing, open mouthed kiss on Aya. Aya’s hands slid up into his hair, knotting, pulling. Yohji sank his hand down the back of Aya’s pants and squeezed one silky buttock.

  Aya groaned. The hands in Yohji’s hair stayed knotted but ceased to pull. Yohji kept kissing him, devouring that delectable mouth. He squeezed his handful of ass tighter, digging his fingers into the crevice between cheeks.

  Aya tugged his hair and he was enough off guard to let go. He stared hungrily at Aya’s wet lips.

  “Yohji, stop.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “But…”

  “Do you honestly think not fucking is less distracting?” He wasn’t thinking straight but realized he was going to need some words. He had a feeling Aya was trying to regret their ever having slept together and that simply could not happen. Wasn’t allowed. Not in Yohji’s book of rules. “I don’t know about you, Aya, but if I can’t have you I’d be more distracted.”

  That gave the redhead pause. He stared at Yohji’s nose, licking his lips, thinking.

  Stop it! Yohji let two fingers gently caress Aya’s hidden entrance, gratified to see Aya’s eyes flutter. “I’d be thinking about this tight little hole and be aching to be inside it.”