Tokyo Ink (Gay SF Erotica)

had become with the Iyashii traitor -- whether it had moved beyond recruiting Tetsu to something more.
    Tetsu was still trying to figure it out himself as he and Gabe lifted off at dusk in a ValCo helicopter.

Chapter Five
    Tetsu was drawing when Gabe came out of the bathroom. More than filling time while he ran a debugging program, he was getting a message ready for Tori. It was a simple theme intricately drawn -- a geisha draped in a kimono decorated with cranes. One hand held a fan, the other reached up to pluck a cherry blossom. In among the blossoms, the tree bark and cranes, the folds of her obi and her elaborate hair, were the logistical details of a revolution.
    A small revolution, to be sure -- just big enough to bring down Iyashii when the security system at Shimizu and half a dozen other major facilities failed at 2 a.m. on the following Thursday. While prisoners were fleeing their cells, member of Tetsu’s network would be streaming in to hack files -- arrest records, bond agreements, financial accounts. Less than a week away, the attack was the culmination of a month’s intensive effort and over half his life’s work.
    “I liked the last picture better.” Gabe had crossed the room and was standing behind him.
    The last picture had been a mistake. Alone in his room, trying to come up with a Code-laden image to post, his mind had drifted to Gabe. The drawing had started with his eyes, thick-lashed, demure. Then the strong line of his nose and the mouth, open, receptive. It was only a few minutes work to fill the mouth, shading in a thick cock to stretch the lips wide. A man’s hands knotted in the thick black hair, holding the dancer’s head in place.
    Gabe had entered the room uninvited while Tetsu was uploading a file. Seeing the image had been all the excuse Gabe needed to offer himself, to coax and prod until Tetsu, unwilling to cross that line with the dancer again, had taken refuge in the bathroom. Three days of silence had passed between them since then.
    Better another three days pass in silence, Tetsu thought, tossing the stylus down and swiveling to face his one-time lover.
    Gabe had ordered one of the guards left in place by his father to fetch some bronzing pills, hair lighteners and shears, and now the long black hair and pale skin were gone.
    He sank to his knees in front of Tetsu. “Disappointed?”
    Tetsu pushed his chair back, as if he were getting a better look but really to put more distance between the two of them. “Surprised. You look completely different.”
    He turned to show each half of his face in profile. "I look like Dillon Valnyk."
    Tetsu wanted to run his hand over the short blond hair or trace the new contours the darker skin and clever use of make-up had created. Instead, he turned back to the drawing tablet.
    Gabe, still on his knees, cleared his throat and waited.
    Tetsu turned the monitor back on, watched the slow progress of the status bar. “Let me work.”
    “You said the software check would run all day, on its own.”
    “I need to upload the picture.” If he didn’t clear the little danshou from the room, there’d be another fight that would accomplish nothing more than entertaining the guards and giving them something to fill the reports Valnyk undoubtedly had them keeping.
    “That’s like thirty seconds.”
    He knew without looking that Gabe’s lips were drawn into a pout. Despite Gabe’s skill and the practiced façade of their earlier meetings, he seemed to have dropped all pretense the minute they had entered the ValCo safehouse and shut the door on his father’s guards. Now, whatever he felt was instantly reflected on his face, whether it was hurt, passion, anger or desire. That is, if it all wasn’t an act put on twenty-four/seven.
    Tetsu desperately wanted to believe it wasn’t an act, that Gabe’s sexual overtures were genuine. But he always came back to “why?” Why would Gabe help him protect the Code and lie to Valnyk? Trying to have a conversation on the subject wasn’t helpful, either. It was downright dangerous as the little danshou would immediately switch from verbal to oral persuasion.
    “Look, if you’re going to stay in here, sit in a chair at least.”
    There was movement, but not in the direction Tetsu wanted.
    “Close enough?”
    Tetsu glanced over his shoulder. “ Kisama !”
    Gabe was on the bed, back against the wall, long legs open in front of him. At least the bastard had shorts and a t-shirt on. Tetsu