Lust
Part Four
Part 4
I have decided to seduce him. It wasn’t a hard decision to reach, but I had to reach it regardless. I had to decide to overstep the line between hunter and prey and make it mutual. That was the part that I had to decide on, that I wanted it to be mutual. I could have just kidnapped him at any point, slaked my lust, killed him and then dumped his body in the harbour. I could even have completely dismembered him, but I suspected that wouldn’t let me regain control. To regain control he has to let me.
At this point it’s all about control. It started about surveillance about plotting and planning to react to a possible threat. Then he began to bewitch me. I haven’t seen him do anything deliberately bewitching. If I saw him with someone else or move provocatively or anything deliberately sexy I could say he was intending to bewitch me, but there is none of that. He is going about his daily life without changing the patterns in any way. He read back a piece of poetry that amused him, it wasn’t his fault that it was so provocative. He had sung along with an album he had owned for some time and knew the words to, it wasn’t his fault that I had found that so incredibly mind bogglingly erotic. He drank to the devil because he was an assassin that lived past his time, not that I would find it cute.
He practised Kendo because that was how he killed, not because I would find it hot. He practised with who I had discovered was the best teacher in Tokyo, not because it would intrigue me. He couldn’t have known that I was watching, could he? Some of the shows he had put on weren’t for my benefit, were they? Surely he always dressed like that when he went to meet Honjyou and not because he had worn that outfit when he had actually made that happen. I didn’t really want to linger on the little dance he had done on his bed and what happened when to me when he had.
I don’t like losing control like that, it had only happened once before and then I could at least maintain the detail that I was very young and had learnt little control over that aspect of my body. That it had happened since was another matter altogether. That I lusted after him didn’t mean that I should have had that reaction without some kind of motivation, had I been touching myself or even imagining him naked I could have understood it, but no. I was watching him but I couldn’t have said why. Not then.
I wonder now if it was why I considered him a threat before, not to Schwartz, to my control. I wonder if I always desired him, if I always wanted him. If I always needed to control him. That I repressed it with everything else. Repression is a form of control, one of the most dangerous and therefore the most rewarding. I can no longer repress this desire. I want to be able to repress it, but I can’t not any more, or I would have him killed.
I still might.
I have decided to seduce him to regain control, there is no way I would let him maintain control.
This is all about control. It always was.
I am going to get him when he visits Honjyou, when Honjyou leaves for Nao and he downs the drink for the devil. There is a small problem to my plan, just a tiny one, their "date" this month comes a week early because they are going to a concert, a stadium venue and you would not believe the strings I had to pull to get tickets. I also have to research the artist they are going to see, something about building materials. Nagi dealt with the tickets, said he wanted to come to, and when he mentioned it to Mastermind he wanted to come, as surprisingly did Berserker. I said I had no interest in the artist in question that I was hunting and I would be damned before any of them were coming, but I did arrange tickets for them to go and see whoever it was the next day. The strings I had to pull and the things I do for an easy life.
Nagi gave me surprisingly few CDs of the artist, apparently he’s not all that productive when it comes to his own music. I glanced through the cover art, decided I didn’t like it and didn’t bother listening. If they liked it then it couldn’t be good. I put Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde on loud and continued my day as normal.
Mastermind dressed me for my "date" as he insists on calling it. He said if I dressed normally I would stand out like a sore thumb, so he leant me a black vinyl jacket that ended abruptly at my trouser waistline and was double breasted to protect my dignity obviously, and then decided against it, he’s smaller in the chest than I am and it barely fit. He brought out a black tee that was covered in sparkles like spider webs, I discarded that, it was like some slug had crawled over me. I told him I was going to a concert, and he said, ja ja.
He showed me what he was going to be wearing, and then we went shopping.
I bought a pair of suede trousers the colour of ox blood that hung on my hips somewhat provocatively and a black silk shirt with a tie detail at the cuffs and neck which made it a little piratical. He changed my hair with some hair mascara and gel so it stood up in spikes, and bought me coloured contacts that made my eyes shimmer. He painted my nails a strange colour called zeitgeist that made them change colour and then used mascara on me. He sat back and thought about it, before he brought out a piece of ribbon the same colour as my trousers and tied it about my neck. I began to wonder exactly what sort of concert it was I was going to. I liked the trousers though. We also bought some biker boots and some new after shave apparently because if I was spending that amount of money on a date I needed to smell as fuckable as I looked, and according to Mastermind I looked very fuckable indeed.
He took a photo. I will kill him later for that.
I have to admit Aya was taking as much care as I was, he’s been hyper about the concert, much to the chagrin of the rest of Weiss who wanted to go as much as Schwartz and are going tomorrow as well and decided not to play the music by the band he’s seeing later and to play a song I recognised, for once, called Psycho killer , on repeat. The irony was not lost on me.
He was dancing around his room as he got ready, "I can’t seem to face up to the fact, I’m tense and nervous and I can’t relax, I can’t sleep because my bed’s on fire, don’t touch me I’m a real live wire. Psycho killer, qu’est-ce que c’est?" I couldn’t watch, besides it means it will be a surprise when I see him later.
The band were American. That’s a good place to start. They were also very loud. Very very loud. The audience was also very scary. Very very scary.
I knew I looked fuckable, hell if I had have walked into any gay bar in Japan I would have had company for the night just by breathing. Mastermind had dressed me up to seduce and seduce I should have done, except for one small detail. I was terrified and it all went very wrong. Very very wrong.
I’ll begin at the beginning. I took a taxi to the venue because I was nervous and didn’t trust myself to drive. I told everyone else it was concert jitters, that I was excited. Nagi asked me the name of the band, I got it wrong.
I overpaid the taxi driver and flashed the ticket man my laminated pass, this got me through the worst of the crowd to the backstage area where I had arranged for my prey and Honjyou to be as well. As I said, I pulled strings to arrange this.
It was supposed to be simple, I imagined that my ability as a precognitive would have enabled me to see danger coming and avoid it, obviously its idea of danger and mine do not coincide in this regard. First of all as I went into the area which was caged off, which my pass gave me access to, some woman groped me, she stuck her hand down my pants and damn near jerked me off there and then. Then she had the gall to tell me I was late. The concert wasn’t due to start for a whole twenty six minutes and that was only the first pre-show artist. She managed all this with her hand in my crotch. I tried to remove her hand and explained I think she had me confused with someone else and if she didn’t remove her hand I was going to cut it off and ram it somewhere she didn’t want it. She didn’t apologise, she didn’t remove her hand and she called me a drama queen.
I was rescued by Honjyou of all people. He didn’t know me, I only know him from surveillance. "I think you might have the wrong man," he told the woman, "as the one you’re meant to be molesting is over there." He turned her head and saw that he was right. She removed her hand, wiped it off on my trousers, and then made her way across the crowd. I think I thanked him. He shrugged it off.
That was the start of things going wrong. Ever hear the cliché that all foreigners look alike, it seems this holds true of gaijin as well. Twice more I was mistaken for the artist in question, twice! All before the show began. Once by the venue operator who wanted to shake my hand and welcome me to our fair country. He at least listened when I told him to piss off that I was a fan and the man he wanted was over there. The second was a gaggle of groupies who were telling me all about what they wanted to do to the lead singer of whatever band it was we were meant to be watching. They were all very pretty girls.
I didn’t think we looked alike. I was a lot taller than he was for one.
Two dark haired gaijin in close proximity look a lot alike if you’re not paying as close attention as you should. I make excuses, I was humiliated by this man but it wasn’t his fault, that time.
The opening act were loud, ignorant and swore far more than absolutely necessary, they pranced about, most of the groupies went into the pit to watch and scream and jiggle and whatever else it is groupies do. Honjyou and Aya were whispering something in each other’s ears, both drinking imported American beer from bottles. There was no third glass.
My plan to drink the devil’s drink obviously didn’t apply, that didn’t mean I couldn’t maybe arrange a dance with him. This was a concert, people danced, didn’t they? The people in the crowd seemed to be surging, like a tide, and jumping at the same time, it was quite a phenomenon to watch actually but I can’t imagine I wanted to be in it. It was uncivilised.
I made a mental note never to come to a place like this again, and if I had to, be backstage. It was crowded here, maybe fifty or sixty people in tight proximity, but that was scary.
Aya was all in black, vinyl trousers and Chelsea boots with a cuban heel and his crasher’s coat over a skin tight top that looked suspiciously like it was made of the fabric they make swimming costumes out of. The music was really loud, I couldn’t have imagined he would have liked it, but it made sense if I thought about it, it was loud and dark and sinister, I could see why everyone else liked it. It didn’t strike me as the kind of music that Honjyou would like, if anyone here listened to country it was him. Honjyou looked at me and I realised I had been staring. I grabbed the first person to pass me to initiate a conversation to get me out of the awkward "I’ve been caught staring glance away" moment and it was the headliner’s drummer, it wasn’t intentional, he just walked past me as I was caught and needed an excuse.
"Americajin?" He asked me in Japanese.
I answered him in English, that I was, he asked me where I was from, and I told him, we even discussed high schools for a few minutes. "You’re very hot, perhaps we can meet up afterwards." The man said, "there’s a private party at the hotel after the show, maybe you could," and he paused before he said it, "come." I was this close to ramming my fist down his throat so far that it would have come out the back of his head. This close.
I explained that I was with someone, but thank for the offer, and flicked my eyes to Aya who was laughing with some other member of the band.
I didn’t know he’d take them up on the private party, did I?
I bugged Honjyou so I know nothing happened, but…
It was just a private party.
Control, I needed to regain control.
This close.
Maybe I should have brought Mastermind or Nagi then I wouldn’t feel so high and dry in this place, so out of place.
Aya on the other hand was behaving exactly as if he had grown up in this kind of environment. He was laughing with the lead singer about music and tailors in English as if he had known them all his life, they even discussed girls, briefly. Then the man left to get ready to go on stage.
They opened with a song I had heard before, from Nagi’s room when he thought no one was in, so I recognised it, and I had to admit it was very sexy listening to the heavy bass and almost crooning singer and the frenetic drum beat. I could get used to this type of music.
"You look out of place, Schwartz." Aya said behind my ear.
"Free ticket." I answered without turning back, only one person here would call me Schwartz and he was pressed against my back. "And you?"
"The Nine Inch Nails don’t tour often, I took the opportunity, I liked them a long time ago and never got tickets." I nodded as if it made sense. There were too many people here for anything to happen. "I don’t listen to them very often any more, but I still really like them."
I nodded, his breath was hot on the back of my neck. "I’ve never heard them before, Prodigy was meant to come, he likes them, but he was taken sick, and it’s a shame to waste a ticket."
"Especially a backstage pass." He said, "do you know you look like him," he flicked his eyes to the stage and the man singing there. "I’d be careful tonight, or you might get molested."
I would not squeak. I would not swallow. "Really, I thought I was taller."
"You are, but you know all gaijin look alike, especially in those pants." He didn’t touch me, he didn’t have to. My control abandoned me completely and utterly. I was this close to turning around and kissing the very life out of him. "I’d be careful just in case."
"I can look after myself, Abyssinian."
"I am fully aware of that." He said. "I just don’t like surprises." I couldn’t tell if that was a threat. "And I imagine that neither do you."
"No," I agree, "but I don’t get many. Though seeing you here tonight was one."
"Really?" He asked, he was pressed against my back by the crowd, I wanted to turn around and ravish him until he cried, but I didn’t, because if I did he’d have won. I didn’t know if he knew that we were playing.
"You’re obviously not a threat tonight." I told him.
"Obviously not, not with this many people about." He conceded, he had a bottle in his hand, the glass was cold against my forearm, I really really wanted him. But not like this, if it was like this I would never have control again. "Schwartz."
"Crawford," I corrected him, "my name is Crawford." It annoyed me he insisted on calling me Schwartz, we had known each other for years, in one way or another we didn’t have to dally on ceremony.
The song changed, he purred, I very nearly groaned. "I love this song." He said, "Crawford." Then I heard what the man was singing and I swear if the press of bodies had have allowed it I would have fled. I needed fresh air, damn it, I needed a drink. I took his, he didn’t seem to mind. I drained it dry. "Don’t you?" He asked. "you give me the reason, you give me control, I gave you my purity, my purity you stole ." He was singing along behind my ear, I was going to die, "It comes down to this, your kiss, your fist." I think I was blushing when I started at that. He was also dancing, a strange jerking in time to the music I was really glad I couldn’t see after what happened the last time, I’m just glad that my shirt covered me to mid thigh, I could feel his hair against my neck.
"I think I could like it." I said trying my best to keep my voice even. "It has its good points." And one of them was grinding his hips into my ass like it was going out of fashion. Control, it was all about control. I had to count to ten.
"Its called Sin." He said, his shoulders rocking to the music and his head tilted, "it’s just so sexy isn’t it, Crawford."
I fled. I admit it, I couldn’t take any more and I fled, like the coward I was. "I’m going to the bar, want anything?" I said, "I won’t poison it." I added.
"I’ll have what you’re drinking." He said eyeing the bottle in my hand, the one he had got. I turned and we were so close from the press of bodies wanting to see on the stage that one of my legs was between his, "thanks though."
"It’s only fair." I reply, part of my trying to make sense of my thoughts, trying to work out why he let me drink his beer. Is he trying to seduce me, no he can’t be, he hates me, doesn’t he?
When I brought back the beers he was dancing with Honjyou again, I really shouldn’t have moved, too late now. He mouthed thanks and took two of the three bottles off me with a laugh, and I went back to where I had been, moving several reporters out of the way, I don’t know why I bought a bottle for Honjyou, manners maybe.
The artist did a cover of a song I knew, the Passenger by Iggy Pop. The audience went psychotic. I made a mental note so that I could brag about it later to people who actually cared about the band. Then one which he called Pretty Vacant which he said had been requested by a fan, I assumed it was his. The smirk on Aya’s face told me the name of the fan that asked for it quite clearly. He actually screamed like a fan girl with everyone else when he said it. I didn’t recognise the song, which Nagi berated me for when I had to give him all the gory details of the concert. He said I was out of touch for not recognising it. He said I was far too out of touch to be attending a concert of this magnitude.
I got him a set list by asking the shorter man who looked like me for it on the way out, he said sure and handed it to me. Nagi would cream his pants for it, and I was glad to be making him jealous. I would give him it, though, eventually.
The real problem with a song every one in the audience was screaming for, one which I had heard of but never heard. They played one called "the perfect drug" which went along the lines of "you are the perfect drug" which Aya mouthed along to whilst looking at me. Despite that even after the six beers I had had up to that point I considered that a Look.
The problem song Nagi recognised immediately as being the band’s most famous number and came in the encore. It was called Closer.
The American midget very nearly died, if I had have been armed with anything other than a bootknife I would have shot him for singing it, I really would have. I would have emptied an entire clip into him, and then kicked his corpse for good measure. The chorus, which was sung across the back stage audience at me by Aya who was watching me with a Look that decided I was prey was "I want to fuck you like an animal, I want to feel you from the inside." There are two ways it could be taken, I told myself later, one that it was true and he did, the other more plausible reason that he was watching me because I was an enemy, an established long term enemy, and that he was singing along because he knew the song and it went with the mood of the moment. I liked that answer better.
I went straight home after the concert, I had to bypass Nagi and go into the bathroom and relieve myself before I could tell him about the concert and hear his whining that he wasn’t going till tomorrow. I didn’t tell him about Aya. I needed time to process that information. He went to the backstage party and discussed music with the American, and then books then poetry, it turned out that the American had read some of Aya’s short stories when they were published in English by a Japanese magazine. I listened to the tape in bed, just to make sure. You can’t trust rock bands that sing songs like that, and judging by the noises that came out of the other rooms on Honjyou’s microphone. I had to put a pillow over my face to get to sleep.
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