After the morning, Gojyo would never see the green eyed prostitute again. Hakkai would return to the bordello and Gojyo would return to his routine of booze, poker, and sex he didn't have to pay for. Sex with women. Women in his bed, not green eyed, brown haired whores. He'd chock it up to experience, something that would buy him a few brownie points in the grand scheme of things, maybe even shave a few years of his stay in purgatory or some dumb shit like that. The stream of life would continue to flow down its pointless path.

He sure as fuck was not supposed to be standing in front of the same god damn bordello a two weeks later, already feeling the base laden music blasting from inside in his teeth when he was still three yards away, but whatever. Nothing ever went like it was supposed to.

Gojyo's flawless plans of putting the whole whore thing behind him started going awry the morning after Hakkai had slept at his place when Hakkai had ended up cooking breakfast for them both while Gojyo looked on, seriously considering the chance that he had maybe been knocked unconscious in some bar fight, and all of this was a dream he was having while in a coma.

Because, yeah, the male prostitute who was wearing his spare pjs and had slept in his bed was cooking scrambled eggs in his kitchen, and that wasn't strange at all, was it?

Gojyo quickly found that there was just no reasoning with Hakkai, who apparently liked to cook, didn't have the chance to cook often, and would rather not have stale corn flakes instead of eggs for breakfast.

Gojyo also quickly found that Hakkai was one damn good cook.

Walking slowly towards the bordello and watching the windows shiver with the base line, Gojyo reasoned that his plans to never cross paths with Hakkai again could have been saved despite the scrambled eggs. The final straw was Hakkai mentioning with that smile of his that the bordello was hosting a dance / social gathering of sorts two weeks from the day. Gojyo had tried everything he could to forget that date. He bedded almost every woman who looked his way, played poker until his opponents got sick of loosing, and drank like a fish, but he still couldn't forget that fucking smile and that fucking date.

"…two weeks from today. You might meet a girl who'll spark your interest."

Hah, fat chance in hell he'd ever get a girl from that fucking dive when he had the whole town at his disposal, but he walked through the door of the bordello anyway. The air was thick with the familiar scents of sex and sweat. As bodies grinded in time to the pounding music, some couples in the corners seemed game to take things a few steps further. Gojyo had never felt dirtier in his life, and that was sure as fuck saying something. He didn't want to be here, and he didn't want a girl, and yet he was standing in the thick of it, surrounded by the dregs of humanity.

Hakkai smiled. "And I might just get to see you again."

Gojyo sighed, twisting his hand in his hair. "God damn it all to fucking hell."

Trying to find Hakkai in the sea of people quickly proved more difficult than he thought. He really didn't want any girl trying to come onto him, or bump into people who were otherwise engaged in things he really didn't want to watch. All this just to say hi to some fucking whore. And just what the hell was he going to say to him? Hi Hakkai, how was your day? How many people did sleep with? It was ridiculous. It was pointless. It scared the hell out of him more than his pride ever would let him say. He needed to get out of the hellhole of a bordello before he saw any green eyes or brown hair.

And then he saw him.

Even with the distance between them, it was obvious that Hakkai was not a healthy young man. The circles under his eyes were dark enough to make it look as though Hakkai had been on the receiving end of two well aimed fists—hell, maybe he had. His skin was pale, but not the snowy, good kind of pale Gojyo remembered. He prayed it was just the shitty lighting in the room, but Hakkai's skin looked yellowish, like an old drum skin that had been stretched too tight. Even his hair was limp, but Hakkai distress apparently escaped the man who was "dancing" with him, that same overweight businessman with the sweaty armpits and greasy hair. Those square hands held Hakkai's thin body close to his and forced it to rock in time to the music.

Gojyo had almost reached the two when Hakkai pulled away from Oku as the song ended, bowing deeply before heading towards another door to the outside. Gojyo quickly followed, hoping to reach Hakkai before anyone else did. By the time he had weaved through the bodies and into the fresh air, Hakkai was doubled over, coughing like he was going to choke up a lung. Agony was etched into every line of his too thin body.

And then Gojyo was at Hakkai's side, helping him to stand. Damn, he was warm… way too warm even if he had been dancing.

Hakkai wiped his mouth clean on the back of his hand and turned his glassy eyes upwards. Gojyo watched in disbelief as a smile turned the corners of those bloodless lips.

"Gojyo-san, you came after all…" Hakkai's eyelids fluttered, and his knees threatened to give. Gojyo caught the extra weight easily; there was almost nothing to this kid.

"Shit, Hakkai…. I gotta get you out of here."

Hakkai shook his head. "I have a customer. He already paid. I can't leave with you tonight."

Inside the music shifted to something slower, though the tempo change did absolutely nothing to help the general quality. Hakkai's smile seemed to glow with an inner peace, some fevered joy that Gojyo would never be able to comprehend. Suddenly he found himself speechless in the snare of those sparkling green eyes.

"Do you dance, Gojyo-san?" Hakkai asked quietly.

Gojyo started dumbly for a moment before he remembered he had the power to speak. "What?"

"Do you dance?"

"Like, what do you mean? Dance dance? Ballroom?" Gojyo didn't understand, and doubted sincerely that he ever would. How could he smile like that after everything he's been through? Where does he find it within himself to get up and face another day when he already knew what was waiting for him. How the hell could he still be so god damn beautiful…

Wait…

Hakkai laughed a little and Gojyo winced as the sound rasped in his lungs. "I doubt I could manage the quick step right now. Perhaps another time."

Gojyo's mouth went dry as Hakkai closed the distance between their bodies. Gojyo could feel the heat of Hakkai's fever flowing into him, burning him. Hakkai must have been in some serious pain, but his eyes were like a dreamer's: lost and at peace. Gojyo's skin tingled as ivory arms wrapped around his neck, and a head covered in soft, chocolate brown hair came to rest against his shoulder.

Holy hell…

Gojyo placed his hands on Hakkai's waist. His heart was fluttering madly, but he was too shocked to even consider feeling annoyed that he, Sha Gojyo, ladies man extraordinaire, just had his breath stolen by a man. For one guilty moment, Gojyo was glad Hakkai was sick. It allowed him to discount Hakkai's advances as feverish delusions and gave him a reason for not holding on to him as long as something deep inside wanted to. He could claim that it was worry for Hakkai's health that caused him to draw away, not that he was too cowardly to examine why his heart was beating so god damn fucking fast.

But Hakkai was trembling.

"Forget your customer," Gojyo muttered. "I'm getting you the hell out of here."