Written by Jack and edited by Dante~! This story originates from a mafia yaoi roleplay. If they ever sex in the story it will be skipped. Maximum is kiss~! Don't like, get out!
Any errors will be our apologies.
By the way, the first three chapters are focusing on introducing the characters, so expect the real stuffs to happen in the fourth chapter. Hope you guys are still willing to continue reading it~!
Editor-san says "Please read and comment or I'll kill you. Ah, I mean if you read and comment, I'll give you a cookie."
"It's a deal."
The man put a contract on the counter, and the other grinned, exposing his yellow, disgusting teeth.
"I'm sure you will prove useful to me," he replied. The man, in turn just smirked before turning around to walk away.
As he walked away, many things flew past his mind. The danger of getting yourself into mafia's business, the possibility of betrayals…The risk of dying was just too great. The man sighed, then lighting a cigarette to relieve his anxiousness, he continued to walk, down the stairs, out the building, and onto the street. It was that moment he bumped into a lad. The lad didn't seem to notice that he bumped into someone, for he was on his phone talking, and running past as though in a hurry. The man frowned; he didn't even get to see what that stranger looked like. He disappeared way too fast into the crowd of people.
But that moment of skinship between the two of them sent a strange feeling to the man.
And he felt as if they would meet again…Someday...
So who's that man and who's that lad? Well, that man is me. And that lad? I don't know who the hell he is yet. All I know is that, he bumps into people, and disappears without an apology. With that, I can sum up with one thing:
Not a polite dude.
Remember I said something about that moment of skinship? Well, it wasn't one of those dramatic moments that sends chills down your spines and you don't feel those romantic moments of meeting again….
Cuz Yo, the suitcase he was holding freaking hit me in the crotch.
And he disappeared without a "sorry." Like, rude.
The part where I felt like we're going to meet again was true, but I don't feel like that anymore. You see, a month has gone by and not a lad entered my bar for a glass of beer or anything. Only people in their thirties or forties comes to my bar these days. Maybe it's because young people like to rape and I have a "NO RAPE" sign hanging directly outside of my bar door.
Huh? You're curious about what I'll do if I meet that lad again?
Well, killing him is probably the best way. But maybe torturing him is good too…
Wait, don't misunderstand. I'm not a sadist.
And if that lad is a pretty dude, I might actually forgive him.
Don't comment on my favoritism for pretty guys, cause that's what makes me unique, no?
*Cough cough* Off topic here. Anyway, nothing happened after I made that deal with the mafia and had the bumping incident. Well, Lisa, my close friend who used to live in my bar, has came back from Mexico. The true reason is unknown, but she said she can't bear speaking Spanish anymore and because Mexico is too daring. She ended up coming back to my bar and crying through the night.
On the toilet.
I mean seriously, I couldn't even pee in the bathroom that night.
What the hell did she meant by Mexico being too daring anyway.
Off topic again, let's just get to the real stuff this time.
My name is Jack, a bartender, as you can already tell. My bar is my home, bedrooms and bathrooms all on the second floor except a public one for every customer to use.
My bar is also a place to seek for information, since all kinds of customers come here. I trade information for information, and it's actually a pretty fun job…Yep, I did it for fun at first, until the day I made the deal with the mafia.
After that, all the information I earned will be given to them.
And that's my new job.
Well, it's not hard at all actually. Many times, people just automatically start talking about their dark secrets after they get drunk, and I don't even need to do a thing.
Summing up, being a bartender is awesome and helpful, I love it.
-page break cuz i felt like it-
"I'm leaving~" Lisa's voice rings into my ear one evening as she shuts the door and leaves the bar. I look over at her slightly before returning to my job, bar filled with drunk people. I chat with a few that sit near the counter, people who actually became my friends over time. It's just like any other day working at the bar, peaceful and busy.
And the awesomeness lasts till the very last second, as usual. My bar opens at 5 PM and lasts till 1 in the morning, people come and go, or stay to get drunk. That's how a bar works, well, at least that's how my bar works.
My bar is near the lake, and there's another one near the river. That bar is known to be unorganized, filled with…Well, disgusting people, and it allows rape.
My bar once allowed rape too, but those "ahhhs" and "nghhhs" were just too loud and annoying that I actually ended up once killing the rapist and the one being raped...
Well, not my fault. This is how my bar works.
When I look up at the time once again, it's already 1:30 AM. Frowning, I realize I haven't even locked the door yet. Scratching the back of my head, I sighed at my own carelessness.
The empty bar is so quiet at this point of time now, where the only sounds come from the clinking of glass against glass, and my neither light nor heavy footsteps. I walk to the door, and was about to lock it when I heard someone from the other side knocking.
Another frown immediately forms on my face, and the first thing that pops into my head is to lock the door and ignore whoever is outside.
However, I don't know why, but I end up opening it. Maybe it's because of my curiosity, and the question that has already started to float around my mind, about who the hell will be knocking—politely knocking—on a bar door at this time of day.
My question is answered pretty fast though.
It's a lad.
He smiles at me in greeting, and in return I raise an eyebrow.
"Sorry, the bar's already closed," I bluntly reply and was about to shut the door when I see his face.
Oh hey, a pretty lad.
At that moment my hand pauses, leaving the door halfway closed. The lad looks through the gap between the door and the frame with his sparkling blue eyes.
"…Well, I'm sorry but can I come in still?"
And I stare at him, hard, thinking, before I open the door wide.
Let's just say I let him in because of my favoritism for pretty guys.
Is that even a good decision?
Not like I usually have problems with my customers…But this time…
We end up facing each other across the counter, each having a fake smile on our faces.
"Want a drink?" I ask, as a polite bartender.
"Bloody Mary." He replies.
"Sorry, but that one's out. You can't expect all the good ones to stay here when you basically stepped into a bar half an hour after it's closed."
The lad pauses for a moment, "scotch, then."
I hand him a glass of scotch, and he drinks it, placing his lips lightly against the edge of the glass, letting the liquid slips into his mouth…
I just remembered that I haven't studied him yet…
He has all his little moves combined with his prettiness, his eyes flicker with a light neither real nor fake. The mysterious aura he spreads with a sense of elegances add to his beautiful figure…When someone like him is standing straight in front of your eyes, it's not weird to be thinking this:
Yet, I still blink from my own thoughts. Starting to clean the bar to distract myself from this delicious young man, I let my mind drift into my memories.
By the way…When was the last time I sexed with a man?
...Ah..now I remembered…I stopped having gay sex after I realized some men will actually put make-ups (um what?) on their dicks. Somehow it just feels all wrong…And I have such a bad experience with it…
"Why are you here anyway? Simply for a drink? Or…?"
Or to seek information? Or to kill me?
I ask, looking up at him who has finished his drink. He frowns silently, as though thinking of a way to answer.
"….I'm waiting for a friend, but since the bar's already closed then he's probably not coming," the lad pauses before smirking up at me. "Care to keep me company?"
I smirk back, "I keep every customer company."
As though satisfied by my answer, he waves his empty glass at me. I pour some more scotch before leaning against the counter by my back, my eyes watching him in detail.
"What's your name?"
"Doesn't suit you."
"Not everybody's names suit them, isn't that so?"
I raise an eyebrow, "Jack suits me."
"Jack huh." James seems to be memorizing the name, and that's when the uneasy feeling kicks in.
….Is he a spy? Oh fuck did I just tell him my name?
..And he's a lad…and he gives me the same feeling as that dude…..
Is he that dude whom I met one month ago?
That crotch hitting dude.
"I should take my leave now, thank you for the drink." Before I realized it, he has already stood up, making a clinking sound as he places the empty glass on the counter along with some money. I frown at him, and somehow I don't want him to leave.
It's a really complicated feeling, 10% lured by his prettiness, 20% curiosity, 30% cautiousness because he might be a spy, 40% for god sake I might be in danger if this dude's an enemy…
"Wait," I call out
"What?" He blinks.
"Scotch costs $1000, you only paid me $14…what a great difference."
Such a fabulous lie.
James throws me one of those bizarre looks. "…That's what scotch usually cost though…$14…."
"My scotch is too awesome to be cheap." I reply back with a straight face.
He shows me a gay face as he pouts, "But I didn't bring that much money."
Oh hey he's gay we're buddies.
"Too bad then... just give me something to replace the money."
And hell will I just let him go because of that.
James turns around to face me, his head tilted to one side carefully. "Depends on what kind of information you want…" He says, cautious.
"Hmmm…How about information on that bar down the river?"
To say it simply; we two bars are the deadliest of enemies. That bar sides with the opposite mafia force that I side with. That bartender and I don't get along as well, and you know, when both sides have guns and forces, and are not good friends, shit happens.
"They're doing fine. Is that it?"
"...I want more than that.."
"The bartender has a big belly."
"…Not like that…"
"He teaches people how to rape?…"
"…..Not that either…"
Finally, James let out a sigh and as leans against the doorframe. "Some information is too secretive to let a bartender like you to know." He puts on a tired smirk.
"That's exactly the information I want to know." I say, using the same glass he uses to get myself a glass of scotch.
"Then I'm sorry I can't give you any of that kind of information." He raises an eyebrow at me.
I put the glass down, "Then you can't leave the bar."
"Kiddos are not even allowed in a bar."
He scratches the back of his head, annoyed.
"…How about telling me about the massacre that has been happening around that bar?" I ask, and frown when his eyes lit up with surprise.
"Haven't heard of it. Interesting... Care to tell me more?"
"..Not unless you give me some equal worthy information in exchange."
Ha, now I got him. He looks slightly troubled with this idea, and shows me yet another one of those unhappy pouting looks.
"…Fine... The bar down the river will be having a red moon day." He says it at last, his head resting against the doorframe with a look that says he expects me to give him the information he wants to hear as well.
"Great, thanks. And actually, I know nothing about the massacre except a massacre has been going on."
"Well, that's why I asked you about it. Why don't you use your brain?"
"….Can I go now?"
I nod, my mind running though the information he just gave me.
Not like I still don't want to leave, but I have this reassuring feeling in my mind about who this lad is.
I watch him walk down the 5 step staircase, and before he knows it, I have pulled him back by his arm, resting my mouth lightly against his right ear.
"You are welcome back anytime by the way..." I whisper, and can feel his shoulder shudders for a second.
"…..You crotch hitting dude. "