Title: Proposition
Author: BrightAngel
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz
Rated: NC-17
Pairing: Brad/Yohji
Warning: AU, Graphic Sex with Minor
Summary: A man looking for a good time meets a boy looking for a meal ticket.
Notes: The beginning of an AU arc that takes place long before Yohji ever crossed Kritiker's path.

It was a casual Friday... In his pale khakis and gray fitted polo shirt, he could almost have been one of them, one of the nameless throng of ordinary people bustling back and forth along the sidewalk at four o'clock in the afternoon. Never mind that his clothes had been purchased in Milan, rather than one of the downtown department stores, and that the few yen in his pocket had been newly exchanged for American dollars. Hands in his pockets, he strolled slowly, his eyes behind the dark glasses focused ever on a point ahead of him - a point of great interest, in fact.

The boy stood out in the crowd like a cardinal among the crows. He was slender, almost girlish with his trim waist and slim arms, and tall. He'd reach six feet by the time he was done growing. There was something about the way he walked - he held himself proud and erect, narrow hips swaying with all the self-assurance of a mature sex object, yet still an unpolished adolescent... unsure, self-conscious, glancing about here and there to make sure he was seen.

And indeed, he was seen.

Brad Crawford liked what he saw.

And as the executive in charge of personal protection to one of Japan's highest-ranking businessmen, there was a certain manner in which the young Mr. Crawford was accustomed to being treated. What he liked, he got. And so, without a second thought, he reached out to that slim shoulder in front of him. "Excuse me..."

Kudou Yohji was a man on the town. If by "man" one was referring to a seventeen year-old boy. And if by "on the town" one meant dressing in questionably-tight clothing and trolling for a meal ticket.

But there was nothing wrong with earning a little cash, even if it was in exchange for companionship. And the fringe benefits were often worth it... dinner, a movie, a night in someone's bed. The wallet stuck in the back pocket of his jeans had been depressingly thin lately. All the money in his savings... from his part-time work, and from his inheritance, was paying for school. And someday he might even be able to get a decent job, and a decent place to stay. Capsule hotels and friends' apartments were starting to be not-so-reliable anymore.

The November air was beginning to get chilly, and the thin, tight t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to shield the breeze from his skin. It slipped into the space between Yohji's tight jeans and the hem of his shirt, sending prickles of cold up his back and down to the base of his tailbone. He'd have to turn back, soon... a couple glances, and a proposition or two from women who looked like they didn't have much to offer were all he'd gotten for his efforts today.

"Excuse me..." A hand landed on his shoulder, slowing him, and Yohji spun around, eyes wide.

He was prettier than Brad had imagined he would be, prettier than the fleeting profile from furtive backward glances had ever let on. A pale, triangular face, and wide eyes of a stunning green... unquestionably Japanese, but with traces of some conquering Englishman somewhere down the line. His hair was a medium red-brown, darker perhaps but streaked with grown-out traces of peroxide blonde, half of it pulled back in a sloppy tail. It might hang to his shoulders if it was let down. Brad approved. He smiled.

"You seem like you're looking for someone."

The boy raised a thin, dark eyebrow, and his wide mouth bent slightly. "So do you."

Brad cocked his head. An astute little creature, to be sure. "Have you had dinner yet?"

"At four in the afternoon? It's too early."

"I take that as a no." He pulled off his sunglasses, and looked directly down at the boy. "My name's Brad."

"Kudou... Yohji." He was looking with mild surprise into Brad's face, obviously taken aback by the blue eyes, narrowed by personality rather than biology, that stared down at him. Gaijin eyes. "Where you from?"

"America. England. Germany. Now I live here." Brad hooked his glasses into the neckline of his shirt. "So, are we going?"

"You buying?"

"Naturally."

Yohji smiled. "Then let's go."

They ate at a Thai restaurant Brad had been to once before, and he spent a good half hour engaging Yohji in small talk. This wasn't out of any real desire to hear what he had to say, but his lips moved so prettily when he spoke. Brad would nod, and make random noises of acknowledgement, stirring the contents of his plate with his chopsticks. If he had even been hungry before, he had forgotten about it now.

"So, Brad..."

"Hm?"

"What's this really about?" Yohji was stirring his iced coffee with his straw, looking right at him with those green eyes of his.

Brad shrugged. "I saw you. I wanted you. That's that."

"Okay..." Yohji bent to drink, still watching him. "Just checking." His lips wrapped around the straw, not quite tightly enough. When he lifted his head, his lips were just slightly moist, wet with a milky-pale glaze.

Brad watched him for a moment or so, then slowly pushed his chair back and stood. With a glance over his shoulder, he departed calmly for the men's restroom. Yohji watched him go, nursing his coffee with a faint smile for a minute more. Then, he quietly set down his glass and stood up from the table.

Brad was waiting for him when he came in, seizing the boy's thin wrist and pulling him close to claim that generous, lively mouth. He tasted like coffee and cream, a rich, dark taste, and Brad bit restlessly at Yohji's lips, feeling them yield beneath his teeth, soft as velvet. He opened Yohji's mouth with his tongue, feeling the boy's own tongue slide against his own in a hot, lazy caress, as slim, hesitant hands moved around his waist, pulling up the hem of his shirt and sliding smoothly against his skin.

Yohji winced as he was shoved hard against the bathroom wall, his shoulder blades meeting the top edge of the tile wainscoting, and gasped as Brad's hands slid down his sides to grasp roughly at his buttocks. "Wh-What do you want?"

Brad released his mouth, lowering his head to bite at Yohji's neck. "I want you to suck me off."

"O-Okay..." Yohji gritted his teeth, biting back a cry as Brad sucked hard at the side of his throat, the prickly burst of capillaries signaling a massive welt soon to grow there. "...Here?"

With a rumble that could have been a growl, Brad pulled away, grabbing Yohji's wrist again and towing him into the far stall, slamming the door behind them and sliding the latch. "Here. Get going."

Yohji smiled faintly. "Yes sir..." Carefully, he dropped to his knees on the floor, grateful that the bathroom probably hadn't been used much since it was cleaned that day, and reached for the zipper of Brad's pants. But the man's hand was already there, deftly undoing his own fly and pushing his pants aside before working himself through the flap of his boxers.

"Watch the teeth."

"I always do." Yohji swallowed, then took a deep breath. The man's penis was a proud specimen, thick and well-veined... it wasn't the largest Yohji had had, but certainly ranked higher than most of the Asian men he'd gone down on. It was already hard, besides, the thick head flushed red and leaking a glossy trickle of pre-come. Opening his mouth, Yohji engulfed the man's flesh with ease, molding his tongue around the rigid shaft and letting his saliva slick up the hot skin. A low groan above his head showed the other man's appreciation.

Brad closed his eyes a moment, relaxing into the boy's obviously-practiced ministrations, his hand resting lightly on the back of Yohji's head as it began to move, up and down, a rhythmic, pistoning suction. He really was good at what he did... better than some of the girls Brad had recently had. And prettier, besides. His fingers flexed into that silk-soft hair, and he arched his neck back as Yohji seemed to double his efforts. Good boy... just like that... His other hand joined the first, holding the boy's head, thrusting his hips forward to meet his mouth... thrusting right to the back of Yohji's throat, and a delighted shiver danced down his spine into his groin as Yohji whimpered softly in protest.

It was good. It was very good. But... it could be better. He clenched a double handful of the boy's hair, pulling his head back abruptly.

"Ow - fuck! What's the big-" Yohji broke off, startled, as Brad jerked him suddenly to his feet, and he was pushed up against the bathroom wall, a hand on the back of his head pressing his cheek hard against the plaster above the tile.

"Shut up and get your pants down," Brad told him, his other hand fishing in the boy's pockets, fingers finally closing around a sharp-cornered square tucked next to his wallet. "You want this."

Yohji grunted softly, his hand going to his own fly, popping the buttons of his jeans and undoing his riveted belt.

Tearing off the edge of the foil packet with his teeth, Brad shook the condom out of its wrapper, and with one hand fit it onto the saliva-slick, blood-flushed, dripping end of his erection. He wanted this boy now - wanted him completely - and it was almost too long a wait for him to slide the rubber sleeve up over his aching shaft. It was coated with a slick, greasy-feeling lubricant, and he wiped his hand off on Yohji's pants before wedging his fingers inside the waistband - he couldn't feel any underwear beneath - and yanking them down around the top of his thin thighs. "Do you do this often?"

Yohji nodded.

"Did you do this today already?"

He hesitated... then nodded again.

"Good." Brad released Yohji's head, grasping the boy's hips, and spread his buttocks with hard fingers. Then, positioning himself at the boy's entrance, he pushed in.

The throttled cry that broke from Yohji's throat suggested that, no, he had not done this today already. He leaned his forehead against the wall, gritting his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose as the American seated himself deep inside him, and began to thrust. He was, indeed, bigger than most of the Asian men Yohji had had. And it hurt. He bit his lip hard, a faint keening whine escaping him as he forced himself to keep breathing.

Brad pulled Yohji's hips back against his own, thrusting hard and deep. The boy was tight... the little liar... and so, so sweet. Brad had always enjoyed vocal lovers, and the little noises hitching out of Yohji's chest made him twitch in response, thrusting that much more quickly, enjoying the tight constriction of the boy's body that much more.

"Hn... ow... sl-slow down..." Yohji half-turned, moaning an entreaty over his shoulder, his fingernails scraping plaster and tile grout as he clenched them into white-knuckled fists.

"Come, now..." Brad crooned, reaching around to Yohji's front, gripping his half-hard cock and massaging rhythmically as he thrust harder, his mouth fastening onto the boy's neck, his moans and shivering cries vibrating against his lips.

A doorknob turned.

"Shit, Brad-"

Of course... Brad released Yohji's swelling erection to clap that hand over the boy's mouth, as the bathroom door hinges whined softly open. "Don't... make... a sound..." he hissed into Yohji's ear, even as two laughing, conversing voices entered.

Yohji closed his eyes, his breath coming fast and hard through his nose, warm and most against Brad's hand. A feral smile curved his lips, and he shifted his hips, making the boy writhe against him. A soundless moan vibrated against his hand, and he thrust again, enjoying the tense protest of the boy's muscles clenching around him. The hand gripping Yohji's hip went back to clasp his erection again, stroking and milking it, leaking drops spreading over his hand as Yohji's hips shuddered into his grip, and he came suddenly and abruptly, stringy gouts of semen splattering the bathroom tile, his slick passage clamping down impossibly tight around Brad, urging him to follow.

The sound of twin streams hitting the urinals ceased after what felt like an eternity.

The door hinges creaked again, and the latch clicked shut.

Breathing hard, Brad leaned his head against the wall beside Yohji's, listening to the boy gasp and pant, his arm sliding around that slim waist as he slowly pulled himself out. "Mm... all done..." he murmured, releasing Yohji to slump against the tile, peeling off the condom and dropping it in the toilet. Let the janitor wonder about that. "You were good, kiddo. Thanks a lot." As he tucked himself back into his pants, he reached into his pocket for his wallet.

Yohji leaned his forehead into the crook of his elbow, rubbing his eyes against his forearm. He heard Brad zip up his fly, heard the soft sound of something light hitting the floor at his feet, and shifted uncomfortably as he felt Brad leave the stall. A long moment later, he opened his eyes to glance down at the floor... and the creased bills lying on the tile. With a scowl toward the bathroom door, he picked up his payment.

With a grimace, he pulled his pants back up. A meal ticket was a meal ticket, after all.

He dropped cash on the restaurant table - enough to cover the bill and then some - picked up his sunglasses and headed for the door. It was almost a shame he'd never see that particular little trick again... he'd die in a few years, shot down by some bad apple or another - Brad had an uncanny sense for predicting these things.

But still and all, Brad Crawford was feeling good.

He loved getting what he wanted.

The End

Weiss Kreuz © Koyasu Takehito, Project Weiss