Jun. 14th, 2018 09:20 pm
Seeking the Surprise Emperor
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totallysaneTokyo V is a strange sort of place, named for nostalgia and whimsy but feeling strangely flimsy, unable to live up to any one piece of its supposed cultural heritage. The spaceport seems to mostly do business in short-range pleasure trips, opportunities to "see the stars" and pretend to be a "citizen of the galaxy" without ever having to actually go anywhere. A massive medical research facility sits opposite several tech compounds, and the apartments and shops built up between them seem almost an afterthought, riddled with strange pop culture references from a variety of cultures and time periods and planets, never forming any kind of cohesive whole.
This seems like a strange place to go looking for the leader of "The Dollars", a massive organization that seems to have spread out across the galaxy, boasting government officials, gangs, and corporate leaders as members. Crimes committed in the name of the group, rebellions led by them, the rise and fall of entire worlds attributed to them... and this is where the hunt for the person or persons responsible has led.
There are a number of specific suspects: a young woman who leads the company who owns the medical facility, a young man who is an infamous information broker, a variety of different creatures who may be aliens or faeries or monsters of one kind or another, a gang leader who shakes down every ship that comes into the station...
All of the suspects seem to have one thing in common, hanging out at one particular tiny dining spot dotted among the pleasure-ride businesses, in the area of the docks. "Russian Sushi." Such a silly name, and there's nothing special about the place itself; it serves sushi, sometimes with rather strange ingredients, but the large black man who walks the docks advertising the place does claim that it never contains human!
The suspected Dollars leaders all pass through this place, often meeting in various configurations, and several openly admit to being members of the organization. There's nothing, however, that pegs any one of them as the actual leader, and they often seem to be more interested in conversations happening on communications devices than the ones happening out loud in the room.
There's one boy, however, who is not and has never been a suspect.
He spends a lot of time here, in this little restaurant full of notable figures. He plays with what looks almost like an old-fashioned cell phone, wears plain old jeans and t-shirt, red sneakers. He gets teased quite a lot for being a bumpkin, and anyone paying enough attention to his conversations with people - though who would? - seems to know that he's from some farming backwater, that he came here to get out, that he's never quite gotten the hang of life around here.
Those things might be true, but what is also true is that... absolutely everyone speaks to him. Every single one of the suspected Dollars leaders or members, but also businessmen, gangsters, the hobbyists who go in and out between mini space cruises, the sexy hosts of the cruises, small children, old men, everyone in between.
Right now, though, he's sitting alone, and instead of playing with his cell phone or looking around for someone to talk to, he's looking at a stranger he's seen poking around a bit already.
There's a flush on his cheeks as he waves, and he looks very young and wide-eyed indeed as he says nervously, "Can I buy you a drink?"
This seems like a strange place to go looking for the leader of "The Dollars", a massive organization that seems to have spread out across the galaxy, boasting government officials, gangs, and corporate leaders as members. Crimes committed in the name of the group, rebellions led by them, the rise and fall of entire worlds attributed to them... and this is where the hunt for the person or persons responsible has led.
There are a number of specific suspects: a young woman who leads the company who owns the medical facility, a young man who is an infamous information broker, a variety of different creatures who may be aliens or faeries or monsters of one kind or another, a gang leader who shakes down every ship that comes into the station...
All of the suspects seem to have one thing in common, hanging out at one particular tiny dining spot dotted among the pleasure-ride businesses, in the area of the docks. "Russian Sushi." Such a silly name, and there's nothing special about the place itself; it serves sushi, sometimes with rather strange ingredients, but the large black man who walks the docks advertising the place does claim that it never contains human!
The suspected Dollars leaders all pass through this place, often meeting in various configurations, and several openly admit to being members of the organization. There's nothing, however, that pegs any one of them as the actual leader, and they often seem to be more interested in conversations happening on communications devices than the ones happening out loud in the room.
There's one boy, however, who is not and has never been a suspect.
He spends a lot of time here, in this little restaurant full of notable figures. He plays with what looks almost like an old-fashioned cell phone, wears plain old jeans and t-shirt, red sneakers. He gets teased quite a lot for being a bumpkin, and anyone paying enough attention to his conversations with people - though who would? - seems to know that he's from some farming backwater, that he came here to get out, that he's never quite gotten the hang of life around here.
Those things might be true, but what is also true is that... absolutely everyone speaks to him. Every single one of the suspected Dollars leaders or members, but also businessmen, gangsters, the hobbyists who go in and out between mini space cruises, the sexy hosts of the cruises, small children, old men, everyone in between.
Right now, though, he's sitting alone, and instead of playing with his cell phone or looking around for someone to talk to, he's looking at a stranger he's seen poking around a bit already.
There's a flush on his cheeks as he waves, and he looks very young and wide-eyed indeed as he says nervously, "Can I buy you a drink?"
no subject
"...no, I would rather wait," he says, though there's a hesitation to it. The decision is a practical one, about how much he thinks he can handle in public.
He bites his lip, then gives the hard length in his hand a small stroke, working within the confines of Adair's clothing with a strange carefulness and calculation.
"Ah... I think someone I know is looking," he admits, his eyes darting to a man with a sly smile he'd exchanged a look with earlier. "I've never had anyone look at me like they wanted to be where I was, before."
no subject
When Mikado says that someone he knows is watching, Adair rolls his hips a little harder, and if it's possible for him to look more like he's enjoying himself, he does. It's a subtle shift, but it's easy to watch him do it, at least from this close. He's been just being himself with Mikado, even though that's just naturally maybe a little bit more than most people. Now, however, he's projecting just a little bit, making sure his pleasure can not just be read across the room, but it's suddenly obvious from that distance that he's getting the best handjob of his life.
It's instinctive, so if Mikado meant for him to simmer down because they were being watched instead of the opposite, he'll likely want to do something about that.
"I'd think they'd probably rather be me, yes?" it's breathless, maybe a little incoherent, but he can hardly be blamed for that.
no subject
He shakes his head, trying to clear away the strange sidetrack of considering which thing he'd rather do or whether anyone could really envy someone his touch, and choose to focus entirely on the business... at hand.
In his hand, there's a nicely firm cock, after all. And it is attached to a very attractive man who is currently putting on quite a show, for Mikado and for anyone looking.
Rather than try to rein things in a bit, Mikado finds himself leaning closer, pressing his lips against Adair's ear, dropping a very gentle kiss there before speaking. His tone is for Adair only, but there's definitely a measure of showmanship in his choice, as if to make the audience wonder about what is being said.
"Do you want to cum here or save that for somewhere other than inside your pants?"
Not that Adair is anywhere close to that point, probably. But Mikado is curious how far he can push this, and he's experimenting with touch at the moment, giving little squeezes and a gentle twist to make up for the lack of long strokes in the confines of clothing.
no subject
Really, what he wants at this point is to make sure Mikado isn't going to lose interest too quickly, but he's pretty sure that him getting off in the bar isn't going to do that. Mikado doesn't strike him as someone who enjoys a whole lot of overbearing or total dominance, so he doesn't go that route either, tries to play the middle road between being too much of a tease and being too submissive.
"I thought you said 'find out, not finish'," he teases, then stretches into the touch, moans again, and how he chooses to express his pleasure might be calculated but the pleasure itself is genuine, "Dealer's choice. I've walked out of bars with worse, either way... but... keep talking like that and the choice is going to get made for you."