Music: UNKLE - Restless

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The Same One You Lost

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Ever been in a bathhouse after closing time? That place that you're used to see so full of life, screaming children with snot running out their noses, the older man looking around nervously to make sure that no one would feel the water getting hotter around him as he piss, the young teenage girls squealing over some guys and discretely pressing themselves up against the ventilation systems. That's what you're used to seeing, that's what's right. Then the clock turns six and everybody has to go home, the pools turns deserted and they even turn off the cleaning systems cause – who really cares if the pool's clean?

It's odd, and you find yourself amazed over the contrast the first times. Much as being in schools at nights, or in a mall. Only the necessary lightning on, the lone security guard taking a stroll before sitting down by a computer to play minesweeper instead cause, really? What could happen?

It's one of the easiest job's ever. Think about it, you have a shift on six hours where you just surf for porn, look at clothes you'll never buy/a pool you'll never swim in and drink some coffee. And you get payed well cause you're working night – and that's though.

And if something were to happen, you don't have any responsibility or obligation to fix it cause no one really counts on someone who lives on donuts to save the day. Or night.

That's why I never hired a security guard. It may have something to do with that I wouldn't be able to sleep in my office if I had one too.

There's nothing worth stealing here anyway.

I hear someone pounding on something three walls away, and if I was a heavy sleeper I could have ignored it. Just as I would've ignored the rain falling on the windows in the room next door. If I had had a security guard he could have checked it out...

Rolling out of the couch I pull on some sweatpants before walking towards the main door.

"We're closed!" We only have open nights Tuesday's, Thursday's and Saturday's. As I close in on the door I can see the kid standing on the other side. Soaked right trough the bones, but with a small grin on his face.

I lean on the glass door, not sure I wanna open yet. Sure of that I want to tease him a bit before I do.

"Open up!"

"Why?"

"I'm cold." Not my problem. He leans in close, his breath hitting the glass on the other side. "I wanna fight."

"We're closed, come back in six hours."

"Come on Grimmy.." His voice slips lower as he press his forehead to the glass, and that wicked grin he can pull off sometimes spreads over his face. "I'll suck you off."

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This kid that I found beating the sack some time ago, he's a fucking prodigy. 19 years old and fighting skills that make's you wanna call the social welfare office. But you notice that he's never been up against the elite, kid can't keep up more than 20 mins and that's gonna show itself to be a greater weakness than he accepts to agree to.

There's people out there who don't hit back very hard, but don't go down. You have to work them, as you'd work at that memory of your trip to Vegas.

I let him wear himself out, kicking at the pads of my hands, ducking as my own leg moves towards him. He's still no match for me and after an hour he's laying on the math, panting for air.

"That's enough." I say as I go get a bottle of water.

Sitting down on my heals by his defeated form I look down at his damp face. "Here."

He opens his eyes and grabs my wrist, taking the bottle with his other hand. And while opening the pop-up cap with his teeth to drink he crawls over me and I lean back on my hands.

Youths of today, doesn't care about much other than sex and money. Well, can't say that I used to be much better.

I let him lick his way down my chest as he works my growing length through the cotton fabric.

He pulls at the elastic waistband and wraps his hand around me as he nibs at my collarbones. I'd give it to him, he's quite good at this.

His voice is raspy, his throat still dry, his deep moan breaking as he palms himself through his gray cotton sweatpants and I wiggle my hips a bit, my cock just a few centimeters from his lips. He lets go of himself and grabs the water bottle again, gulping half of it down before licking his lips, before licking the head of my dick with a cool tongue.

"Yes..." I hiss as he swirls his tongue around me, swallows and bobs his head. My fingers thread through his hair as he continues to work and I look at the show. His lips grow more swollen as his face flush and he moans as he thrusts into his own hand at the same time, rapidly bringing us both closer to the edge.

It cross my mind, not for the first time, how lewd he is as he rubs his thumb over his own slit and his panting breath is all I can feel on me for a moment as he's gasping for breath. A string of saliva drips from his red lips to run down my length and then he's back, deep throating me, moaning as he comes but keeping me in his mouth through every shudder and swallowing and lapping up every drip as I do the same.

This kid that I found beating the sack some time ago... I haven't used my right hand since.

He looks up at me while licking his fingers clean, his whole body still damp and covered with a bit more than his own sweat at the moment and grins.

"You look like you've had a traumatic childhood." He really does. No one who hasn't would grew up to be what he is right now. Awesome fighter. Awesome BJ-deliverer, awesome in the sack over all and a personality that makes you want to put him on the pill. "Go take a shower."

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"Do you treat all your fighters like this?"

"What?" I send him a quick glare as I pour myself a cup of coffee, re-heating it in the micro.

"Do you fuck all your fighters and let them wander as they want through these all mighty corridors?"

"No." And I'm not letting this stupid kid do that either.

"So, I'm a special case?" I don't like the look on his face. Like he think he's figured something out, like he now has the upper hand. He got lots to learn still, you should never take out the win prematurely.

"No." The buzz on his face makes me feel awesome and I take the heated coffee out of the micro and head's towards my office.

"Then wha-"

"I'm keeping you around cause it's something I want to know, that I think you don't want to speak about." His pacing behind me stops, and I turn around to see his reaction as I reach the heavy door. "Plus, I'm not letting you wander anywhere where I don't want you."

I could pay two hundred for a everlasting picture of his puzzled face.

"You stepped into the wrong gym kid." I can't help but chuckle as I think of how small the world is. "Let me tell you something, maybe help you out of that confused state?" Or put you in a even deeper one.

He nods slightly as we enter my office and he crash down on my couch.

"I learned to know this guy when I was twelve, we jumped out of school together at 15 and started our business on the street for real, arranging fights and letting people bet as they wanted. Due to his mother falling ill when we were 16 it took us three years to collect the money we needed to by a permanent place."

The look on his face hasn't cleared, in fact, he looks more puzzled out now than he did before. And I can't help but chuckle before I slowly continue my life story.

"Fucking tumor. He cared a lot about his family, every year he used to run away from his mom for about a month, go back to this little small town where his dad lived with his siblings. Fuck, he always talked about them, telling me how much they'd grown, showing pictures. Especially of his little brother, he was so proud of him, talking about how they spent a lot of time training together and what an amazing fighter he would become.

"When we had both turned 18 we bought this place. Then, two months later his beloved mother died."

It was so long ago, it's amazing how time pass. It makes one feel so old, thinking about the past. Shit, it was ten years ago.

"His mother was the only reason he was in this city, otherwise he would be with the rest of his family, with his beloved brother. And when she died, he had no reason to stay. So he didn't."

I look at Kurosaki, who's still just staring at me. I think it's starting to dawn at him.

"I haven't seen him in nine years. His name, I'm sure you'll recognize it. Kaien Shiiba." Yeah, he did. His eyes widen even more, and this light shake of his head, as if he wants to deny it.

"This favorite brother of his, his name was Ichigo. Ichigo Shiiba." And as I continue talking the kid starts to shake his head more and more.

"The thing is, if you ignore the hair, you look exactly like him. But your name is Kurosaki, you said so yerself." His head falls forward, into his hands as he hunch.

"The world really is small you know. If you had started working out at any other gym no one would know. I'm the only one in this town who knew about your existence, and I'm the only one who knows that Kaien's mother's, your mother's, maiden name was Kurosaki."

"No." It's faint.

"But that's not why I'm keeping you around, see, I could figure that out all on my own."

"No, no-"

"What I want to know is, if you're here, why the fuck ain't Kaien here with you?"

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