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It was a Blues bar. Well, that night it was. Sometimes it was a strip joint, sometimes it was a live house, but tonight it was a blues bar. Schuldig stared around the hazy room, lit by pink and blue neon sculptures, a piano drawling a slow rhythm in the corner while a smoky-voiced girl sang about pain and heartbreak. Schuldig could feel the music vibrating throughout the room, running through the floor and up his legs. Shabbily chic men and women lounged in soft plush seats around round tables and others chatted at the bar. High slits and low necklines were the fashion among the women, open shirts and cigarettes characterised the men. There was an air of disreputability about the place, the shirts were expensive but stained, the dresses gaudily promiscuous. Schuldig felt oddly at home.
He sauntered up to the bar, allowing the music to define his pace, and ordered something cheap yet chic from the tired looking bartender. The girl on the stool, singing her heart out, wore a gold sequined evening dress that caught the lights and blinded the audience, and Schuldig felt an odd affinity with her. He convinced her to glance his way and he winked at her, holding up the glass. When her set was finished she'd come and have a drink with him, and perhaps he could forget Yohji in the soft curves of her body.
She finished her set and hopped off of the stool to languid applause. The punters began to move towards the bar, everyone buying second or third rounds for their table. Schuldig lost sight of his lady in the crowd, but he could 'feel' her oozing her way towards him.
It was a Blues bar. Well, that night it was. Sometimes it was a strip joint, sometimes it was a live house, but tonight it was a blues bar. Yohji stared around the hazy room, lit by pink and blue neon sculptures, a piano drawling a slow rhythm in the corner while a smoky-voiced girl sang about pain and heartbreak. Yohji could feel the music vibrating throughout the room, running through the floor and up his legs. He felt at home here. This was his world, his love, his pain being sung by the gowned girl.
He had enough to buy a single drink, but what Yohji craved was a cigarette. The girl hopped down from the stool and started to push through the crowd towards the bar. Yohji intercepted her with a disarming grin.
"Buy you a drink?" he purred. She smiled up at him through lowered lashes, diamante glued delicately to each one.
"Two offers in one evening," she commented, her voice much deeper when speaking than when singing, "what a lucky girl I am."
Yohji gave her a perplexed grin. "What ever he's got, you know I can better it," he teased.
"My, aren't we full of ourselves? Hey, haven't I seen you here before?" She paused to get a better look at him under a neon blue twist.
"It's been a while," Yohji admitted. He tilted his head so she'd see his best profile, something that made her laugh. He did it so naturally, so unconsciously, that she knew he'd done it for hundreds of women. The light caught his glasses like a pale splash of tears and his eyes glistened with an unnatural glow.
Schuldig glanced over the heads of the bar's other occupants. The advantage of living in Japan was generally being able to see over pretty much everyone else. He recognised the girl, and he recognised the man silhouetted against the light. His stomach lurched.
Yohji and the girl made their way to the bar. She sat next to Schuldig, but Yohji blanched when he saw the German. Schuldig studiously ignored his reaction and offered the singer a drink, which she accepted without comment. After almost a minute standing and staring Yohji swallowed both his pride and his nerves and sat on her other side. She offered him a cigarette and he spent the last of her money buying her another drink.
Yohji and Schuldig didn't exchange a word as long as the girl was between them, but Yohji was surprised and amused to find Schuldig pressing money into his hand beneath the bar so they could keep up the rivalry. She flirted with both of them, accepting drinks and doling out fags to both men.
The singer, whose name was Luci, pressed a hand to her head. "Sorry, I'm a bit dizzy," she murmured.
"That's because the world stopped spinning when you looked into my eyes," Yohji purred, brushing hair from her eyes. She gave him a small smile.
"I… I'm going to the bathroom. You gentlemen stay put 'til I get back, ya here," she told them both. When she tried to get off the stool she slipped and stumbled. Schuldig grabbed her and she slumped into his arms.
"I didn't realise I'd swept you off your feet already," he growled. She blinked at him and stood up unsteadily. She stumbled away towards the small rooms at the back of the club, leaving Yohji and Schuldig to descend into an uncomfortable silence.
Yohji fell into a relentless depressive internal monologue. 'I blew it. I should have stopped him when I could. I knew what was going to happen. I'd missed it so much, though, it was so hard to resist when his mouth… No, not going to dwell on it. It felt good, though, too good. Maybe if he'd been terrible at it I wouldn't have wrapped my hands around his neck. Is it possible to give bad head? Well, of course, but Schuldig always stuck me as the sort of guy who no matter what you do he's had worse, and I bet he'd like it painful. I wish I could control myself better. I did better than I've done before, though, right? Sat on my hands, that was a good idea. Not good enough though. Heh, story of my life, not good enough. Do I owe him head? I don't think… I don't think I'd strangle him. Perhaps we could do that. I could satisfy him, even if he can't satisfy me. God, I want him so much. Sitting there, smirking. He always smirks. I hadn't noticed that before, but his 'blank' face is a smirk, when he's thinking or doesn't want people to see how he feels, he smirks, even when he thinks he's alone he smirks. Is a smirk supposed to be that attractive? It's all I can do not to jump him here and now…'
'…Go on then. Jump me.'
Yohji's head snapped up. "You," he spluttered. Schuldig smirked at him. "You were listening," Yohji snarled, blushing despite himself.
"I can't help it. Yohji, I want you too. Sitting here, flirting with her, pretending it's you, pretending everything you say is meant for me…" Schuldig shook his head. "You didn't come today. I thought we were going to do the job."
Yohji was glad with the change of subject, unsure how to respond to Schuldig's preceding remark, until he realised he had no idea what to say to this either. "I couldn't… I thought you wouldn't want to see me. I certainly didn't," Yohji added bitterly.
"You keep running away," Schuldig pointed out. "This isn't going to be the last time you run from something you think you can't deal with. Have a little faith in yourself, Yohji. Have a little faith in me. Come on, I call myself 'guilty'. What can you that do I haven't?"
Yohji stared at him, considering this. "At least you can control your own actions," he said roughly. He wondered if he'd really misjudged Schuldig that badly. Schuldig honestly liked him, and he honestly liked Schuldig. Schuldig was willing to forgive Yohji for almost killing him. Yohji swallowed back the guilt that came with knowing he wouldn't have been nearly as quick to forgive Schuldig. Hell, he was still trying not to judge him on everything he'd done to Yohji while with Estet, but Schuldig had no problem with what Yohji had done at the same time.
Yohji wasn't sure he liked the idea of a man calling himself 'guilty' being a better person than he was.
"Bullshit," Schuldig moved to the seat next to Yohji and hooked an arm around him. "I just have less moral high ground to stand on. I've done it all, Yohji. How can I judge people for doing something I've done myself, and enjoyed it a hell of a lot more than they did?" Yohji shrugged and Schuldig felt his bony shoulders shift under the thin synthetic material of his shirt. He nestled his head in Yohji's greasy hair, and Yohji breathed in Schuldig's distinct smoke and alcohol scent, holding the other man tightly to him. Both men suffered for their sins, and it was hard to say which felt worse.
When Luci came back after a prolonged trip to the toilets she was disappointed to find both of her paramours had disappeared. They had staggered out of the dim room together, trying to convince each other and themselves that they weren't the scum of the earth and didn't deserve to live on God's green earth. Somewhere along the way, they managed it.
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