Tokyo Ink (Gay SF Erotica)

him, he would think of Shimizu and what had become of the city in the hands of companies like Iyashii. The once glittering glass pyramid in the middle of Tokyo Bay that had housed almost a million people was now a crumbling prison system. His mother had been caught in the conversion. He’d been born into it. “Squatting” -- that was what the government contractors had arrested her for, dragging her from her one room flat in Shimizu’s university district and hauling her before a corporate magistrate. A one-year sentence became two years after her pregnancy was discovered and they began billing her for their so-called medical services. She’d signed him away at six, doing so her only chance at freedom. That had made him a bond employee.
    Lucky for him he was smarter than most of the other kids similarly bonded to the company. He was a free man now, the head of Iyashii’s security forces for the country, and with a secret sideline that would one day break the hold Iyashii had on Shimizu.
    Shimizu, where the Code had started.
    Tetsu leaned closer to the screen as Youran peeled the last of the sash away and slipped gracefully from the robe, unaware that he was a living, breathing communiqué for anti-corporate terrorists. It was all there, ident numbers for political prisoners, their transfer dates from the corporate magistrates’ holding locations to Shimizu. As head of security, there were other ways for him to access the information, but not without setting off a million alarms after the transfers were intercepted.
    He picked up the mobile and started recording the symbols, sighing as he got down to work. Some days, he just wanted to watch Youran dance.
    ***
    Half an hour later, the message was translated and forwarded to cell commanders who would plan and execute strikes on the prisoner transport. Tetsu could have stopped watching, could have turned the screen off and gone home for the evening, but Mikio-san had taken the dancer into the suite adjacent to the tea room. The young man was down on his knees, the black hair that had been so carefully coiled and pinned now undone and falling around his sculpted shoulders and back. The mouth, busy working Mikio’s erect cock, was still painted with its red center and purplish-black corners. The red-tipped fingers, despite their obvious strength, worked the man’s balls with a delicate touch.
    Tetsu zoomed the ceiling camera in, focusing on Youran’s face. The eyes were closed, the lashes impossibly long and brushing against his prominent cheekbones. The sound was off, but he could tell that Mikio was close to ejaculating. He had grabbed two handfuls of Youran’s hair, forcing his head back and then thrusting into the dancer’s mouth. Youran passively accepted the violent, clumsy fucking Mikio delivered. Only the smeared lipstick and the strain around his closed eyes showed that this was nothing but work.
    It unnerved Tetsu, looking down on the dancer from that angle -- almost as if it were his own cock in the young man’s mouth. He would have been more gentle, slower despite the ache he already felt in his balls and along the painful length of his erection. And he would have tasted the dancer, too. That was something Mikio-san never did. Tetsu would have tasted all of Youran. The skin along his neck, his nipples, the small of his back. It would be a feast that went on all night, not this callous rutting paid for on an Iyashii expense account.
    The dancer tensed against the first spurt of Mikio’s cum and Tetsu looked away. He glanced at the other monitors, taking in the executive tea room, the elevator bank and the front security desk.
    Dressed all in black leather, with a long duster jacket, a figure flickered past the front desk. A man, his features hard to focus on, their protean nature instantly revealing his identity to Tetsu.
    Obara no Ryuu -- Iyahii's top assassin.
    “Fuck!” Tetsu hit the one-way speaker to the front desk.
    Ryuu nodded at the guard, saying nothing, needing to say nothing. The guard didn't know Ryuu's identity, he just knew Ryuu was the man with a free pass through the building. No questions, no signing in or out.
    Tetsu turned the sound in the tea room back up, his mind spinning. It was late Friday. Most of the employees in the building, if they weren’t security, were doing data entry on the eighth floor or cleaning offices. The only obvious targets for Ryuu, other than Tetsu, were the three executives.
    Tetsu thought of Youran,