A short walk, a turn down a side street, and a cold dose of reality later, Yao started to wonder if it was the wine that had made him make such an uncharacteristic decision. He certainly did not feel as confident as he had a moment ago. He glanced up at the huge man walking beside him, only to find the man staring straight back. Yao quickly looked away.

"Do you know, there is paper on your neck." That thick Russian accent was brightly cheerful, yet sent a strange shudder down Yao's spine.

"Oh." Yao felt his cheeks turn red as he reached up and ripped the forgotten streamer from his neck. "I forgot about that. My friend put it there."

The Russian suddenly stopped in the middle of the street, ignoring the crowd that surged around him, and extended a hand to Yao. "My name is Ivan." He pronounced it the Russian way.

"Oh," repeated Yao. He crumpled the streamer and dropped it before taking Ivan's hand. It was much larger than his own, and surprisingly gentle. "I'm Yao."

Ivan's smile never faltered. "Pleased to meet you, Yao! My bar is behind you."

"Oh." Yao nearly kicked himself. Could he say anything else? He turned to find a dark doorway cut into the street wall behind him. If he hadn't known it was there he would probably have missed it. "Your bar, you say."

"Da, my bar." Ivan took Yao's arm and steered him easily through the crowd. "Shall we?" Yao did not feel he had a choice.

Yao followed Ivan through a dark, narrow hallway that led into a small, even darker room. Ivan hung his trench coat on a gilded coat-rack then pulled out a stool at the bar, smiling at Yao with a look that tied his stomach in knots and sent waves of heat through his veins. Yao tore his eyes from that gaze and sat down warily, glancing around the room. Despite its size, the relatively small bar was lavishly decorated. A circle of dark red couches in the centre; gold and red draped lamps, both standing and hanging; imposing busts of eagles in each corner. The tall wooden bar stools were intricately carved and the long liquor shelf against the wall was impressively stocked. Yao looked from the ornate decorations to Ivan in his expensive-looking suit, then down at himself. He couldn't help feeling underdressed in his jeans and sneakers and Transformers t-shirt. At least his long hair was neatly tied back.

"What are you thinking of my bar?" asked Ivan, taking a seat close beside Yao and resting his arm on the bar.

"Oh, it's… well, it's…" It's dark and creepy and there's one exit and I feel like I'm in a gangster movie and oh God you actually do kind of look like a gangster... "It's nice."

Ivan looked pleased at Yao's answer. "Ah, is not much, but is convenient."

Convenient. Convenient for what? Yao's mind immediately ran away from him again, conjuring up images of smoky trysts and back room deals. He found himself wondering what sort of man would run a bar like this - what sort of man he had just recklessly accepted a drink invitation from. Yao didn't do this sort of thing. He didn't know how to do this sort of thing. "So, this is what you do? You run a bar?"

"Well, yes, but this is just small part of my operations."

"Your… operations? Um… what would…" Yao trailed off, realising at this point that some part of his brain had shut down and he was incapable of thinking of a single thing to say. He sat there, silent, cheeks burning, as Ivan just smiled politely as though expecting him to go on. Right when Yao was on the verge of either running for his life or passing out, a voice spoke beside him.

"Can I get you a drink, sir?"

Yao nearly hugged the bartender in relief for the interruption. Instead, he turned to him and smiled politely. "Could I get a Coke, please?" He suddenly wasn't sure drinking was a good idea.

The young bartender raised one eyebrow. "No."

Yao bit his lip uncertainly. "Okay. Um. Pepsi?"

The bartender gave an almost imperceptible smirk and again replied, "No." Ivan laughed softly.

"Oh." Yao surveyed the myriad multicoloured bottles lined against the wall, searching for the least alcoholic among them. "I'll have a glass of wine, then. Please."

The bartender looked at Yao blankly for a few moments before prompting, "Red or white?"

Oh God. This was too much pressure. Yao felt far too conspicuous, Ivan's gaze burning into him while the bartender looked rather amused. He didn't know how to answer, and it was just a simple question, and now he'd taken too long, and…

"The Rkatsiteli is excellent," said Ivan, observing Yao with a mixture of amusement and fascination.

Yao nodded in relief. "Okay. Sure." Whatever that is. "I'll have a rak... rakats... er, a glass of that." Then again, maybe a few drinks for confidence wasn't such a bad idea after all.

The bartender nodded and busied himself preparing the drinks. He was very good looking, with shoulder-length brown hair and large sad eyes. Yao thanked him as he placed a large wine glass on the bar. The brunet just nodded again before placing a bottle of vodka and a glass in front of Ivan – he looked a little scared of the Russian, which didn't do anything for Yao's nerves.

"Spasiba, Toris." Ivan poured the vodka into the glass and raised it to Yao. "Za vas," he said, shooting back the glass and immediately pouring another.

Yao had no idea what that meant, so he simply nodded in reply and hoped it wasn't impolite. "Is your bar always this quiet?" he asked after taking a very long sip of wine. It was a strangely heavy taste, instantly warming him from the inside.

"My bar is very select. It is, how you say, invitation only. And tonight you are only guest, Yao." Ivan smiled behind the glass against his lips.

"Ah. Great." Yao finished half the wine in one gulp, feeling it rush straight to his head in a dizzying wave. "The wine's good."

"This is from my private reserve. Is Russian. Best wine in the world, Russian."

Yao wondered what Francis would think of that. Then he wondered what Francis would do in this situation. Then he felt his cheeks burn again, and quickly changed the subject. "So, um, what do you do, if this is only part of your operations?"

"I am a businessman." Ivan easily finished another glass of vodka, his direct gaze never moving from Yao's face.

"A legitimate one?" Yao muttered before he could stop himself.

Ivan blinked in confusion. "I am sorry?"

"Nothing," said Yao quickly, a flush of fear running down his neck. He was not even sure why he asked that. He hurriedly moved on. "That's very interesting. I'm a chef."

"A chef?" Ivan's eyebrows rose and fell quickly. "Yes, you look like you are good with your hands."

Yao again found himself with nothing to say, so he took another gulp of wine instead. He was not exactly used to handsome strangers calling him beautiful and inviting him for a drink at a private bar. He was not exactly sure of the correct etiquette for such a situation. He decided to make the best of it and tried to smile confidently - he wasn't sure he pulled it off. "So, why did you want to buy me a drink, Ivan?"

"Hmm. How do you say." Ivan's eyes flashed and his chin rose. "Because I want to sleep with you."

Yao froze, his eyes wide and his glass halfway to his lips. It took him a few moments to realise he had heard Ivan correctly. When he did, he was hit by a wave of hot, confused nerves and oddly thrilled shock. Yao blamed the feeling on the wine, and forced himself to think clearly: if that was all Ivan was after, it would be best to go now. Yao placed his glass down and stood, but before he could take a step, he felt his hand seized.

"Wait. Do not go."

Yao peered down at Ivan suspiciously. Ivan's grip on his hand was so much stronger than his handshake from earlier. This had to be a bad idea - but why did that look in Ivan's eyes make Yao's determination start to dissolve?

Ivan bowed his head apologetically. "My English, is not the best." He looked up imploringly, his light blond hair falling across his forehead. He managed to look both seductive and innocent at the same time. "Do you speak Russian?"

Yao felt his breath start to quicken, but fought to keep his expression impassive. "Do you speak Chinese?"

Ivan smiled cheerfully. "Ni Hao!"

Yao raised an eyebrow. "Dasvedanya." He turned to leave, but Ivan did not let go of his hand.

"Please. What I mean to say was… I would like to get to know you, da?"

Don't turn around, don't turn around, don't turn around. Yao sighed. As though he had a choice. He turned around and sat down, much to Ivan's apparent delight. The Russian smiled delightedly as Yao reached for his wine glass and quickly finished it. Why did Yao get the feeling this could be the best or the worst decision he would ever make? "You'd like to get to know me," Yao repeated, a little incredulous.

Ivan sat back slowly, seemingly satisfied that Yao would stay where he was. "Of course."

"Why?" Another wine glass appeared on the bar as though from nowhere. Yao practically dove for it.

"I tell you before. You are very beautiful."

Yao turned red and laughed dismissively. These silly words should not have this effect on him. "Most men don't go up to strangers on the street and call them beautiful."

Ivan shrugged one massive shoulder. "I am not most men."

Yao had the feeling that was an understatement. "You don't say," he muttered around his wine glass.

Even as Ivan leant casually against the bar and twirled his vodka glass between his fingers, he somehow maintained an air of power behind that ever-present smile. Yao really started to wonder what he was getting into here. "You speak Chinese, Yao?"

"Mandarin, yes."

"You were born there?"

Yao nodded. "In Beijing. My father is Chinese. My mother is from Japan, which is where my brother was born." Yao did not like to talk about his parents. They were not an important part of his life. "My family travelled a lot. But we moved to America years ago. Then my parents broke up, Mum moved back to Japan, Dad went home to China, and now it's just me and Kiku."

"He is your brother?" Ivan looked politely interested as he asked. Yao just felt embarrassed that he had said too much.

"Yes." Yao took another sip of wine. He was not used to speaking about himself; not used to someone interested in hearing about himself. But Ivan watched him fixedly with unwavering violet eyes, listening to every word. Yao tried to turn the conversation around. "And you speak Russian, I imagine."

Ivan let out a short breath of laughter. "Much better than I speak English."

"You speak English very well," said Yao politely.

Ivan placed a hand to his chest and inclined his head slightly, a gratified smile on his lips. "Thank you, Yao. This is very big compliment."

Yao's lips twitched in a tiny smile and his heart jumped a little. He'd gone from feeling slightly insulted to strangely flattered to utterly charmed in the space of five minutes.

It did not take long for Ivan to put Yao at ease. But that may also have been the wine. Yao remembered reading somewhere that in Russia it was polite to match your host drink for drink. He quickly realised this was going to be impossible, but was regardless putting up a valiant effort. Ivan had an undeniably charming manner about him, even as he remained rather imposing. Yao quickly found himself fascinated by that alluring accent. But Ivan continually avoided the subject of his work, until Yao became intensely curious about what the man actually did. The fact that he owned a private bar in the middle of the city was interesting enough. Yao listened carefully to every word Ivan said, but there was nothing to give a single hint to the manner of his business. And the entire time they spoke Yao could not tear his gaze from Ivan's. His smiling face seemed somehow innocent, yet his eyes made Yao shiver. There was something perilous about them.

"All this celebration outside. It is for the Chinese New Year?" asked Ivan, already nearly halfway through the vodka bottle. Yao was amazed at the way Ivan drank it like water. He did not seem the slightest bit drunk.

"Yes. The Year of the Tiger, actually." Yao was trying to sound cool and aloof but was afraid he wasn't pulling it off. It was hard to appear aloof in front of Ivan.

Ivan flashed a grin. "Are you a Tiger, Yao?"

Yao felt his heart jump again. "Um, no. Actually I'm a Dragon." Yao continued to drink his wine at a steady pace. The taste was growing on him, and he was sure if he drank enough he would feel confident at some point. "What is your sign?" He almost winced. Smooth line, Yao...

"A Dragon?" Ivan smiled as his eyes stared through Yao. "You look like Dragon, Yao. Fiery, and enchanting." If anyone else had said it Yao would have rolled his eyes and scoffed. When this charming yet commanding Russian stranger said it, Yao could barely breathe. "I do not know my - sign, you call it? I have never thought of this."

"Oh, well, I was given one of these charts earlier. Someone in the street was passing them out…" Yao reached into his pocket and pulled out the flimsy paper pamphlet he had picked up earlier that evening. As he spread it out on the bar, Yao noticed his hands were shaking. He tried to still them. "Now, let's see… what year were you born? You find that, and it will tell you what sign you are."

Ivan pulled the chart towards him and studied it intently. "Ah!" he cried finally. "It is my year!"

"You're a Tiger?"

"Da."

Yao looked down at the chart. The words on the page almost swam before his eyes, but a quick study told him Ivan was either twenty-four, or thirty-six, or forty-eight years old. Yao looked up at Ivan, at his black business suit and light scarf, his white-blond hair falling in those piercing violet eyes. It was almost impossible to say which was more likely. Yao decided it would be rude to ask.

"Tigers and Dragons… your chart thinks we make 'good match.'" Ivan carefully enunciated the last two words. "Is chart correct, do you think?" He looked up and fixed Yao with that penetrating stare.

"Ah... well… Tigers can be a little aggressive," Yao mumbled. "And intimidating," he added quietly around his glass.

"I think you believe this chart, yes? You are what they call 'superstitious.'"

Yao shrugged. He had always believed in astrology, despite having had to deal with his friends ridicule about the matter for years. "It has worked for thousands of years, hasn't it?"

Ivan nodded thoughtfully. "I understand this. We are very superstitious people in Russia. But is silliness, most of it. My sisters, they believe this sort of thing…" Ivan trailed off, his smile disappearing and his eyes unfocusing. Yao waited tensely until finally Ivan shook his head and drained his glass of vodka. He glanced back at the chart. "It says here that Dragon is… 'Free Spirit.' What does it mean?"

"Well, it means that we're, um, independent. We take risks. We live life to the fullest." Yao paused. That didn't sound like him at all, actually. "Well, we're supposed to. And we're honest and proud and energetic and we like to be alone. Oh, and we're lucky."

"And the Tiger?"

"The Tiger... You're strong, powerful, courageous and dominant." As soon as he said it, Yao blushed and looked away. Of all the Tiger traits, why had he focused on those ones? To make things worse, Toris walked past behind the bar at just that moment. Yao tried not to cringe and looked into his glass.

"Toris, are you thinking this 'Tiger' sounds like me?" Ivan waved the chart over the bar. Toris stopped, took it carefully, and quickly looked it over.

"Do you know, sir… I think this sounds exactly like you." Toris raised his eyes slowly and glared at Yao. "Exactly." Yao felt his breath catch in surprise at the cold look in Toris' eyes.

"Then chart is correct! What is your little animal, Toris?" asked Ivan cheerfully.

Toris dropped the chart onto the bar. "Excuse me, sir. I don't believe in this silly thing." He shot Yao one last glare before walking away. Yao watched him go in confusion. Why did he get the very strong feeling that Toris did not like him much? That was ridiculous, surely… they'd barely even met!

Yao tried to shake the thought away. He was definitely feeling the effects of the wine, but confidence wasn't one of them. Instead he felt dizzy and slightly overwhelmed. Part of his mind told him that he should not be in a place like this, with a man like Ivan, after drinking as much as he had. Another part reminded him that he was being exciting and unpredictable. And yet another part of Yao's mind, and this part was being pretty damn insistent, was screaming at him that this was the hottest, most intriguing man he had ever met. And most amazingly of all, he actually seemed interested in Yao. Yao felt trapped, knowing he should probably leave, but feeling intensely compelled to stay. Ivan was like a magnet.

Ivan folded up the chart and smiled down at Yao. "Well, I think chart must tell the truth. Because I am like Tiger and you are like Dragon, Yao."

Yao laughed dismissively. "Not according to my friends."

Ivan narrowed his eyes curiously. "The friends you were with celebrating tonight?"

"Yes. Well, they were celebrating. I didn't actually want to go out."

Ivan tilted his head inquisitively. "Why not?"

"Well… because I've been busy lately. Working." Yao looked at his half full glass. Screw it. He picked it up and drank deeply before continuing. "I'm in the last year of my chef apprenticeship and I really want to run my own restaurant. But that's impossible right now, seeing as I'm living in a tiny studio apartment and the most expensive asset I own is my DVD collection of '80s cartoons. So I work hard, but that's because I have to. It's difficult to get to the top of this business, if you want to be the best, which I do. And no one understands that." Yao slammed his glass down a little too forcefully. Before he knew it, it was full again. Damn, that bartender moved fast. Yao picked up the glass and drank. "And so they think I'm boring. They say I'm predictable."

Ivan raised an eyebrow. He seemed quite entertained as he listened to Yao's outburst. "Predictable?"

"Yes. You know, predictable, like I always do the same thing. That I'm uninteresting, that I'm no fun."

Ivan frowned disapprovingly. "They sound like not good friends, Yao."

Yao waved a hand as he took another sip. "Oh no, they are, really, they mean well, I just… well… it just annoys me, so when you asked me to have a drink, I thought, screw it, I'm going to be unpredictable." Yao wondered if he should have said that. "Not that, I mean, not that I didn't want to have a drink with you, only, maybe I shouldn't have um… had so many…" Yao looked into his glass. "This wine really is quite good, you know."

Ivan smirked a little. "I can see that you like it."

Yao nodded and drank again. "I don't have the best wine knowledge… that's Francis, he's French, and really good at all that."

"He is one of your friends who does not understand you?"

Yao's head was spinning too fast. "Yes. But he doesn't have to worry, he's head pastry chef at the restaurant so he already has his career set up - he doesn't even seem to need sleep, he lives on bread and wine and one night stands. Arthur's in college, he studies literature or something, which really just means that he gets drunk every night and sleeps until noon. And Alfred has a steady job as a firefighter and everyone loves him for it. So none of them understand what it's like to be completely unsure about your future and to have to try really hard to prove yourself while wondering if anyone even notices and I hate when they say I'm boring and I know they're my friends but sometimes I wonder if they even care and…" and stop damn it you're babbling… "…aru."

Ivan tilted his head. "Aru? What is aru?"

Damn. "Um, er, it's just something I say when I'm nervous. Can't really help it. Like a nervous tick. Aru." Yao looked at the ground and closed his eyes briefly. Why did he always have to make an idiot of himself at times like these?

"Why are you nervous, little Dragon?"

Yao froze. He didn't know what to say. Damn it! So much for being a confident Dragon. No wonder he never did well on dates. Was that even what this was? Yao went back to drinking and polished off his glass. He'd lost count of how many he'd had.

Fortunately the silence was broken as a back door slammed open and a teenage boy ran breathlessly into the room. "Mr Braginski, sir, I'm afraid…" The boy trailed off into silence when he caught sight of Yao. Yao looked away hastily. Toris appeared again behind the bar, frantically shaking his head behind Ivan's back.

"Raivis, why are you interrupting me when I am obviously in very important meeting?" Ivan smiled as he said it, but his eyes held a terrifying intensity. His entire voice and manner seemed to change.

Raivis actually appeared to be shaking. He looked almost as scared as Yao might be himself if he hadn't had quite so much to drink. Was this a new glass in front of him? Yao quickly picked it up and drank.

"I'm sorry Mr Braginski, sir, I never would have bothered you if it was not important… it's just…" Raivis glanced at Yao, then at Ivan, then back at Yao. He looked like a small animal caught in headlights.

"Da?"

Toris leant across the bar and spoke quietly. "Sir, perhaps this is a delicate matter that Raivis would prefer to discuss in private."

Before Ivan could respond, another young man came rushing through the door. He wore a business suit and clutched a laptop computer under his arm. He only paused for a moment to notice Yao before giving his full attention to Ivan. "Sir, this situation is more serious than we thought. An entire section of my hard drive has been accessed. I don't know exactly what they were after, but there were…" His eyes flicked briefly to Yao before continuing. "Client's personal files stored within the hacked area. Incriminating files. This was a malicious attack against our operations."

Raivis spoke up tremulously. "It's... it's the third time this week, sir..."

"Exactly, sir. The third. And I think I can make a guess as to who…"

"Enough, Eduard," hissed Toris nervously.

"Hmm." Ivan drummed his fingers impatiently on the bar. Yao could almost feel the Russian's suppressed anger. "Eduard, you are supposed to be best computer engineer in this country. This is why I am paying you. If you are not being able to solve this problem, I will be finding someone who is. So go and solve it."

Eduard looked incredulous. "But sir, this is…"

"Just GO, EDUARD!" cried Toris. Yao jumped slightly at the outburst, and the room fell silent. Toris dropped his head and immediately started wiping the bar top, his face red.

"I think Toris is right," said Ivan. He turned on his chair and straightened his shoulders. "After all, I am sure you do not want me to get…" Ivan slowly tilted his head. "...upset."

Yao felt the atmosphere in the room change immediately. Toris froze mid-wipe; Raivis squeaked; Eduard choked back whatever protest he was about to make and nodded instead. He grabbed Raivis by the arm and rapidly guided him out the back door. At that point, Yao realised he was holding his breath, and released it slowly.

Now, this was strange. Yao should probably be running screaming from here by now. All his senses told him to get out. But for some strange reason, he stayed. That's because you're drunk, some part of his brain supplied. Well, maybe. But maybe it was also because, even though Ivan made Yao nervous and uncertain and, based on his employees reactions, a little scared… he also made him curious, excited, and, he had to admit, intensely aroused. Yao groaned inwardly. This went beyond unpredictability. This was stupid.

"I apologise for this unforgivable rudeness." Ivan turned back to Yao, smiling charmingly as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. "Please, I can offer another drink?"

Yao laughed shakily and reached to push his wine away. "I actually think that's the last thing I…" Yao trailed off, watching with a sinking stomach as he knocked the glass over and sent it crashing to the floor. The last of the wine spilt over his hand, and his entire body burned with embarrassment.

Ivan just laughed softly. "Lucky there was not much left, da? However…" Ivan gently took one of Yao's hands. "This is very good wine."

Yao's eyes widened, and he could barely breathe as Ivan took his hand and brought it to his lips. Yao bit his lip to suppress an embarrassing moan when he felt Ivan's tongue trace lightly over his fingers, lapping up the spilt wine. The feather touch of Ivan's mouth sent tight, tingling shocks to every part of Yao's body. It felt exciting. It felt terrifying. Yao felt his heart beat faster and his head start to swim. Ivan looked up slowly, intensely, those keen violet eyes burning into Yao's. Suddenly everything was too dark and too fast.

"I… I think…" I think I've made a fool of myself. I think I've drunk far too much far too quickly. I think I'm done being unpredictable. Yao tried to fight the waves of darkness rushing through his head, but the room kept spinning around him. "I think I'm going to…" The last thing Yao felt was strong arms surround him.

To be continued…