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I don't own JR or any of the characters; I just like to play with them. Reviews are appreciated, but if you hate the story, just don't read it - it's way cooler than reading it and then flaming it in reviews and/or PM's.

What the Hell am I doing here? Usami Akihiko, famous novelist, wondered grumpily. Answer: he'd been dragged by his editor to some club to "get inspiration" for one of his books. Really, the place was disgusting. It wasn't the smell of sex or shameless presentation of the dancer's bodies that repelled him. It was how completely public it was. Most people thought that if you were gay, your relationships were purely sexual and often public, any guy would do, and the world could all suck it if everyone saw. That is not what it was for Akihiko. Akihiko was gay – and yes, he'd been in a few sexual relationships, but no he did not consider them to be "public" affairs, and he honestly had been trying to fall in love each time – he just couldn't do it.

He winced as someone on a couch a little bit away moaned in relief and probably came into his own pants. He closed his eyes against the pulsating lights and deafening music. The bass vibrated in his skull and the rest just made his head hurt. He wanted to get out of there. That's it – I am never writing a club scene, again, he thought decidedly. The author hadn't touched his drink, nor had he paid any attention to the dancers. He just wanted to be home, curled up with Suzuki-chan – his giant teddy bear – fast asleep in his own, blissfully dark room.

"Open your eyes, Usami-sensei. You're here for inspiration!" his editor, Aikawa Eri snapped, cuffing him over the head. The man sighed and combed his fingers through his ashy-brown hair, opening his eyes. "Now…see anyone you like?"

"No."

"You haven't even looked!" Akihiko's eyes scanned the dancers, skipping over each of them disinterestedly. Then, he caught sight of someone on the dance floor.

"Are all the dancers up on those stages?"

"Except the lap dancers and private dancers, yeah. Why?" Akihiko leaned forward a little to observe the one that had caught his eye. It was a boy, probably a little young to be in an establishment like this. He had messy, brown hair and bright green eyes, which were lidded seductively. He wore a tight, black, leather shirt that exposed more of his stomach than it covered, and fishnet gloves. His pants – red leather – hugged his hips tightly enough to provoke imagination. On his feet he wore heavy, black boots. The boy seemed pretty lithe, twisting and turning to the music, his hands above his head, his lips parted with a flash of pink tongue darting out ever once in a while. He moved as if the music were making love to him, rolling his hips and tossing his head in ecstasy. And his face was flushed from dancing, making him seem even more lustful. It was possibly the most erotic thing Akihiko had ever seen.

Suddenly, the boy's eyes caught with Akihiko's and held, purple and green completely locked in each other. Then those eyes flitted away and that face turned away to another man who was standing a bit behind the boy, watching him hungrily. And of course he's already taken, Akihiko rued. The man, a dark-haired man with narrow, brown eyes, glanced at Akihiko and then nodded to the boy, who stopped dancing and sauntered over to him.

"See something you like?" he asked in a soft, purring voice. Akihiko noticed the redness of his cheeks increase. The boy's not flushed from exertion…he's blushing from embarrassment, the author realized.

"Why do you ask?" he replied.

"4800 yen for two hours, and you can do anything you want," the boy replied, again trying to sound seductive, but Akihiko could tell he was strained. The author's brows creased slightly.

"You work for the club?"

"No…I'm a…private contractor. Look, you want some or not? I-I…" he paused to take a deep breath, as if just catching his breath after dancing for so long. "I've got other customers to find if you don't." Aikawa cast the author a meaningful glance before returning her eyes to a male stripper not too far off.

"Alright then." Akihiko reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet before selecting out exactly twice the amount requested. "Make it four hours."

"Alright, baby, I'm yours for the night." Akihiko's eyes narrowed again. There it was again…right when he called me baby…he's putting on an act. Why is he doing this? The older man stood and grabbed his arm, dragging the boy off to one of the back rooms kept for the patrons' usage. He shoved the boy inside inside and shut the door.

"What's your name?" he demanded. He turned to find him standing there, a barely-suppressed expression of fear on his face. "What's your name?"

"Takashi Misaki, s-sir."

"What are you doing here?"

"Working, what does it look like? Look, did you pay 9600 yen just to talk?"

"If I did, that's not your problem, now, is it?" Misaki shook his head. "Sit down." The bed creaked as the boy obeyed. "Why are you doing this? You clearly don't want to."

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about that fearful expression just a second ago, I'm talking about the strain in your voice, the embarrassment painted all over your cheeks. And yet you're doing this work, so my guess is that you feel you have no other option."

"L-look, this really isn't your business."

"I know." Misaki blinked.

"O-oh…" Then why is he getting into all this mess? The boy wondered. "Y-you're really not getting your money's worth, right now." Akihiko sighed and leaned back against the door. Oh, yes, the boy was cute, that was for sure. He was adorable, and the sex-hungry part of Akihiko that hadn't had any physical, human contact for over four months – and no sexual contact or release for more than a year – was acutely aware of it, but something about the boy was off, and it was bothering the hell out of the author.

"How old are you?"

"S-seventeen."

"A minor. How'd you get in here?"

"It's not that hard. I-I've been working joints like this for a while."

"A while?"

"None of your business how long." The boy glanced up at him and then away, again. What's he waiting for? He wondered. Now that we're done talking, does he want me to seduce him? He swallowed hard and stood up. "You ready to get your money's worth, babe?" He took a slow step forward, acutely aware of the tent pitching itself in the other man's pants. He bit his lip and shot a shy glance up at him. "Or maybe I shouldn't be so forward?" The older man swallowed. There it is. He likes that… "What should I call you?"

"Usami is fine," came the hoarse reply as the boy took another, slow step towards the man. "Should I call you Misaki or Takashi?"

"W-whatever you want is fine…Usami-sama." He took the third and final step to bring them face to face. It was only then that he realized how much shorter he was, compared to this "Usami-sama," having to crane his neck up to look into his face. He felt his blush grow and tried to suppress it. "M-may I touch you…Usami-sama?" The author nodded wordlessly and the boy lifted his hand and brushed it over his chest. "Y-you dress well…this must be a pretty expensive suit." He slid his hand under the jacket. Akihiko let out a long, deep sigh.

"I'm going to need more than that…to satisfy me," he growled lowly, his raw need taking over. He wrapped his hands around the boy's thin waist, propelling him backwards to the bed. "I'm not usually a proponent…of being flamboyant…about this kind of thing…" he admitted between kissing the boy's neck. "But it's been a long time since I've gotten any…" He felt the boy swallow hard and begin to unbutton his shirt for him. Akihiko rumbled his approval but took over, anyways. Within minutes, he had them both stripped.

"You said anything I want. Did you-?"

"Anything…you want." Akihiko kissed him roughly on the mouth, pure need taking over any sense of rationality he had left. His hands slid up and down the boy's lithe body, seeking as much contact as possible. Misaki arched and writhed beautifully beneath him, his breath coming in deep and hard, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Open your eyes." Hesitant obedience. "Spread your legs." Again, obedience. Akihiko rewarded him with a searing kiss, his tongue exploring the younger's mouth. "Hold onto me." Those thin, graceful arms wrapped around his neck, fingers curling into his hair. Akihiko held three fingers to the boy's lips. No order needed to be said, this time. They were obediently taken into that hot, kiss-bruised mouth and thoroughly coated in saliva. The author withdrew them, replacing them with his own mouth while they wandered their way down to the boy's entrance. "You ever done this before?" A nod. He pushed one finger in. Misaki gasped, arching completely off the bed. "You're so sensitive…Mi-sa-ki," Akihiko purred, adding a second finger. In his lust-hazed mind, it didn't occur to him that the boy seemed to adjust pretty quickly – especially for someone his age. It wasn't long before he'd added a third finger.

"Ahh!" Misaki cried out as his client's finger found his prostate.

"Beautiful." Akihiko withdrew his fingers and lined himself up. "I'll try to go slow," he promised, not really wanting to hurt the boy. He began to slide in, again too far gone to woner about how easily the boy's body accommodated his length. As soon as he was all the way in, he pulled back out to the tip and slammed back in, again. Misaki moaned and twisted, so that on the next thrust, he hit his prostate.

"Ah! Th-there!"

"Mmm…keep moaning for me," Akihiko instructed, continuing to plough into the body beneath him. "Scream for me."

"Ahhh! Oh! U-Usami-s-san!" The author now put his lips right up against Misaki's ear and whispered.

"Now come for me." And, obedient as ever, Misaki came with a wordless cry, clamping around Akihiko's member in jerking spasms that brought him to his own completion. The novelist almost collapsed after he came down from his high, managing to roll to the side to not land on Misaki just in time. They lay there together in silence for a while before getting up, washing up in the attached bathroom, and getting dressed. Throughout the entire thing, the boy had been blushing profusely, so Akihiko figured he'd had enough and turned to leave.

"You still have time," Misaki reminded him as he went to the door. Akihiko paused and nodded. He had a lot of time left, actually.

"Alright, come on." The boy followed him out to the dance floor. The author bent and kissed his mouth one more time. "You're really cute, kid. You should get out of this business. Consider the extra a tip. I'm done wit you." He went back to his seat and sat down. I feel so disgusting, he thought. Doing it with a kid…someone I don't love or even know at all. He scoffed and shook his head. It didn't help that the sex had not just been good, it had been mind blowing. It was as if the kid could read his mind and knew just what he wanted and when he wanted it. Takashi Misaki, huh? Girly name if I ever heard one. Suits him though. Cute kid.

Several hours later, Akihiko finally managed to convince Aikawa that they'd gotten all the "inspiration" that was to be had and it was best if they started home. They were just at the door when he noticed Misaki leaving with a man – the same man he'd been dancing with, earlier. Now, the look on the boy's face was one of complete and total fear, not even trying to be masked. The man grabbed Misaki by his hair.

"Money," he growled. Misaki fished the money Akihiko had given him out of his pocket and handed it to the man, who whistled. "You must have really shown him a good time to get such a good tip. Think he might become a regular?"

"I-I don't know. I've never seen him here, before."

"You didn't snatch his wallet did you?"

"N-no."

"Good. I can't afford that kind of trouble, and you know what would happen if you cause me trouble, right?"

"I know." The man grinned and smoothed his fingers through Misaki's hair.

"Good boy," he whispered. "I don't want to have to punish you, you know. And since you were so good today, why don't I give you a little reward? Tonight, I'll let you suck me off, eh? How does that sound?" Misaki flinched. "Well?!"

"Th-thank you, sir." Akihiko's jaw clenched, but before he could go talk to the man, someone laid a hand on his shoulder. He spun. It was one of the guards from the club.

"Look. I know you mean well, sir. But…take it from me. You don't want to get involved with that mess. The guy's immune from the law, and anything you do will only result in that poor boy getting punished, if you catch my meaning."

"Who is he?"

"No idea. All I know is that one time he shot a guy, the police came, looked at him, and walked away."

"And the boy?"

"Beats me."

"How long has he been…working…here?"

"I don't know, I'm new here." Akihiko nodded and looked away, taking a deep breath. Then, he went to his car and drove away.

Hey, I'm working on two other stories, and I told myself I'd finish them before I got started on another, but then this chapter practically wrote itself and refused to get out of my head, so here it is.