Sober

Written for my good friend Aidan.
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As so many things do, it started with a phone call. At three o’clock in the morning I’m either at work with no hope of sleep, or at home with no hope of sleep, so the phone didn’t jar me the way it might someone else. “Hello,” I said simply.

“Hojo? This is… Reeve,” came a familiar, cultured voice.

Reeve Tuesti, the one time head of urban development in Midgar, calling me at three in the morning after having not spoken to him in ten years. It took the cobwebs out of my head very quickly. “Hello, Tuesti,” I greeted. “How have you been?”

“Hojo, you know I’m not calling you, an agent of Shin-Ra, at this time in the morning just to catch up,” Reeve admonished, but I could hear he felt nervous just speaking to me. “I have a serious situation on my hands and I’m calling to get your help.”

I’d always admired his forthright attitude. Reeve believed in getting right to the heart of a matter as quickly as possible.

“What can I help you with?” I asked, settling back down onto my couch. “I work for Shin-Ra, like you said, and not for you at the WRO.” This should be interesting. Maybe it would prove diversion enough to make me forget about how long I’d gone without sleeping.

“Are you on a secured line?” he asked.

“Yes.” I checked my line every day for taps, every minute, actually. I’d made a device to alert me to the presence of electronic bugs. One couldn’t be too careful while working for the corporate monster. “You can speak freely.” Why he’d trust me, I didn’t know. I’d never tangled with Reeve personally, never needed to, but I knew for a fact he greatly disliked me.

Reeve was silent a moment, then plunged right in. “I have a lost operative in Wutai, and the conditions of his disappearance have me worried. I have plenty of Wutai personnel, but none who are willing to travel to Xing-Lao.”

“No self-respecting, modern Wutainian would go to the Squalid Capitol,” I told him. “It’s the birthplace of gambling, slaving, black markets and recreational murder, not to mention where most of the world gets its illegal drugs.” I’d grown up there, on the outskirts, but had found plenty of employment in the inner city. I’d told myself I’d never go back. Most Wutai natives said that, if they ever escaped, and all did their best not to break that promise.

“Nevertheless, my operative went,” Reeve informed, his voice grave. “The details of the mission involve the old reactor there.”

The Xing-Lao mako reactor had been assigned as storage for Shin-Ra cargo. After the well tapped out, so to speak, Shin-Ra sent their surplus goods there. I assumed that to be weapons, but I never looked deeply into the matter. I had other things to do. “You want me to find this person?” I asked. “Are you asking because I’m Wutainese, Tuesti?”

“I’m asking you to find my man and bring him back, but not just because you’re from Wutai, and from Xing-Lao specifically.” Reeve made a frustrated noise. “I’m afraid he might be hurt. He wouldn’t go this long without contact otherwise.”

“Ah, so my capacity as a physician is also needed,” I murmured, twisting the phone cord around and around my hand. The plot thickened considerably. “But, wouldn’t any unscrupulous doctor from Wutai do the job just as well?” I laughed softly. “What’s your angle, Tuesti?”

Reeve sighed. “It’s Vincent Valentine I want found.”

I stared at the far wall, disbelieving. “Vincent Valentine,” I repeated. “You trust me to find and aid him? You know our history.”

“To be honest, Hojo, I don’t trust you. But, I don’t have a choice here. I can’t hire any more mercenaries to do this, and the ones I have won’t go to Xing-Lao. If Vincent is hurt, like I suspect, you have the ability to patch him back up. I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement on Vincent’s safe delivery.”

Hot damn, I was tempted. I had three weeks of vacation to use any time I pleased, and more gil than sense. Why the fuck would I fly to Costa del Sol out of habit when I could go on safari for the Turk?

“You don’t have to pay me,” I heard myself saying. “I’ll find your man.”

I hung up on him and smiled. I’d find my man, too.

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It took only one day to create a fake identification card, set up a World Bank account with it, and secure a two hundred million gil checking balance. I needed money for this hunt. I took another day to buy an appropriate wardrobe. One didn’t walk around the Squalid Capitol in the clothing of an infidel or an outsider.

I could bet that Valentine’s clothing was to blame for him getting targeted. As lovely as he looked in those leather togs, ,and yes, I had looked, he’d scream foreigner. So, my first order of business once stepping off ship was to start trolling the slave markets. Plenty of bored, wealthy men and women would find Valentine a prize.

On day four, I found him. I’d turned down a little alley close to the drug markets, and stumbled upon an impromptu sale of the Turk. Someone had already bought him, it seemed. I fingered my gun and my wallet, trying to decide which would please me more to use in this case, listening to three men argue over who really owned Valentine.

My quarry looked quite ill and displayed every sign of being constantly drugged out of his mind. He’d lost his cloak and shirt, his weapons and boots, but not his gauntlet, pants or bandana. I could see his highly arched, delicate feet bleeding from the rough stones here. He swayed as he stood, attempting to shake the haze from his brain.

A man turned and spied me. He took in my expensive clothing and smiled. “Here, he can decide for us,” he said to his friends, motioning me forward.

I stood in the group, keeping my face averted from Valentine. “Yes?” I asked. “What is it I will decide?”

“Who owns this beautiful creature, of course.” The man pointed to Valentine as he spoke. “We all paid an equal portion to purchase him, because he went for such a high price. But, we all want to take him home first.”

I looked around the alley, seeing no one watching. “He went for a good price?” I prompted. “How much?”

“Six hundred thousand gil,” came the ready answer.

“So, you each paid two hundred,” I mused. Valentine had fetched a good price, but I’d expected that. He was beautiful. “What if I paid each of you three hundred thousand to give him to me?”

It started to rain and everyone brought out umbrellas except for me. Valentine and I stood side by side in the downpour while the men excitedly conferred upon my offer.

“I don’t care how much you pay for me,” Valentine said lowly. “I don’t care who you are or what you want. No one owns me.”

He had no idea who I was? Amazing what wearing your hair down, contact lenses, and a change of clothes can do. Then again, he was drugged to the nines and I probably looked like a blur and sounded like I was underwater.

He swayed a little, and I thought he might be preparing to faint. “Slavery is disgusting,” he went on, perhaps encouraged by my silence. “It makes me sick that you’re attempting to buy me.”

Oh. Well, I could do this the easy way, then, and save money. I screwed the silencer on my pistol, and quickly shot all three men dead. “Have it your way, Turk,” I said, grabbing his neck chain. “One transaction is the same as another here; murder is as valid as money.”

He stumbled along behind me. “Turk?” he rasped. “Who are you?”

“I thought you didn’t care who I was.” I guided him down the busy street, keeping him close in case someone else had the idea to purchase him like I’d done. “I know your feet hurt, but try to move quickly. It’s getting dark and we have a block to go.” That wasn’t the real reason I hurried. I’d spied the white powder on the corner of his mouth. Those men had given him an aphrodisiac. I had no idea how strongly the gh-nlea had been mixed.

I brought him into the high-security hotel and took him straight to my room. “Do you know what drugs you’ve been given?” I asked, ringing for room service.

“Roofies, heroin, alcohol…” he mumbled, falling face down onto my bed.

Sweet Jesus. No wonder he stumbled.

I ordered food and iced cardamom tea, then started hunting through my wardrobe for the kimono I’d bought for him. Just as I found the black and silver garment, the food came. I draped the cloth over him, accepted and paid, then laid everything out on our table. “They gave you an aphrodisiac,” I informed. “I can see the remains of it on your lips.”

He coughed, and it turned into a bitter chuckle, but he didn’t say anything. I plucked him from the bed and carried his limp form into the bathroom. Bending him over the open toilet, I pried his mouth open and stuck my finger down his throat. He gagged and instantly vomited. By the constituents of his vomit, I saw he hadn’t had much but liquids for many days. He was starving on top of everything else.

After a moment I propped one of his hands on the wall and one on the sink basin. “You might have to stay there a few minutes. I think your system is full of poison. I’m amazed you can talk, Valentine.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, then immediately began a fresh wave of expelling the contents of his stomach. I grabbed his hair and held it out of the way, feeling grit and filth and oil. I turned the shower on with my foot and waited until he stood upright to adjust the temperature.

“Get in,” I said, going for the door. “If you have trouble, just pound on the wall.”

He was in there a long time, but he finally staggered out with a towel wrapped around his waist. I could see he felt a bit clearer in the head, but he wasn’t anywhere near sober. I got up and wrapped his kimono around him, making him drop the towel so I could tie the obi. “Sit down and eat some of this soup,” I ordered, pushing him gently into a chair. While he ate, I’d clean and bandage his feet.

Valentine very slowly picked up the soul bowl and put it to his lips. For a minute it looked like his stomach would refuse it, but manfully mastered his nausea. In minutes he’d finished and started picking at a loaf of rice bread. His eyes drifted down to mine. “You look very familiar. I know I know you, but my mind won’t cooperate.”

“You’re seriously drugged,” I explained, wrapping his right foot in sterile gauze. “In a few minutes, when you’ve eaten enough to buffer your system, I’m going to neutralize the roofie. That, at least, will clear your head enough for thought.” I finished that foot and went on to the left. He’d have a hard time walking for a few days, but I believed I’d spared him any scarring.

“You work for the WRO?” he asked, and I thought it a natural enough question.

“I do for this mission.” I took out my medical bag again and began searching for the antidote to flunitrazepam. “Reeve asked me to find you.”

“Reeve…” Valentine drank a little of the iced cardamom, seeming to relish it.

He looked beautiful in the black and silver silk, his wet hair hanging and no bandana to mar my view.

“I can still feel the aphrodisiac,” he said, putting a hand to his neck.

“I can’t purge you of the gh-nlea,” I said, “I’m sorry. You’re either going to have to jerk off for a few hours, or fuck me to find relief.”

He closed his eyes. “I’ve never had a male lover. I thought…”

“You thought I’d saved you from that fate?” I asked, pouring him more tea. When he reached for it, I slid the needle into him and gave him his salvation from the date-rape drug. “I didn’t rescue you to fuck you, Valentine. Like I said, I’m here because Reeve Tuesti asked me to find you.”

He fell quiet as his system was rid of another toxin. I cleaned up the food mess and dug around in my toiletries bag for my comb. “What happened to the red bandana?” I asked, taking up his hair from the ends and beginning to comb it.

“I think it’s in the tub,” he muttered. “I didn’t ask you to fix my hair.”

“You haven’t told me not to yet, either,” I pointed out. His hair felt good, slick and healthy. “You feel like fucking me yet?”

“…yes…”

“There’s slick stuff in my bag,” I told him. “Use it or I’ll be very unhappy.”

I watched, amused, as he cautiously explored that bag and drew out the lubrication. This ought to be entertaining. Vincent Valentine learning to fuck a man…

“…you want me to do this?” he asked softly, slurring.

“On a medical point of view, it would be best,” I admitted. “If it bothers you, be aware the alternative will have you exhausted by morning. For some reason, it means more if you blow your load inside someone else.”

He shivered violently. But, he sat quietly and let me finish combing his hair. I worked it into a braid to keep it out of our way

We only had the dim illumination of a streetlight. The rain kept coming down, strengthening its assault. I heard thunder far away in the mountains.

Valentine stood up. He examined my face closely, but I still didn’t see the light of recognition in his crimson eyes. “I would have expected to be receiving tonight, not giving,” he murmured. “They would have torn me and hurt me, I know. I’ll do my best not to hurt you.”

His sincerity wounded me. I gave him a small smile. “You can’t hurt me, so don’t worry about that.”

“But, I could,” he insisted. “I’m very strong.”

“I promise its okay,” I said firmly. “I’ve had SOLDIER augmentation.”

Valentine seemed relieved. He worked his sash loose and dropped the kimono, revealing a very handsome, long and thick cock. I felt like spreading for him just looking at it. He met my eyes as he attempted to get the top off the container. “You’ve done this?”

“Many times, top and bottom,” I informed patiently. “I’m disease-free, too. Be careful; you’ll puncture the tube.” I didn’t have to ask if he was clean…

He handed it over. “You do it.”

I unscrewed the cap and returned it to him. “I think it would be best for you if I wasn’t in control,” I said, feeling proud of myself. It was true. If he gave me control, we’d definitely switch positions. I’d love nothing more than to drill him. “We’ll go at your pace. This isn’t about me, but you.”

He nodded, looking distinctly lost. “I feel very compelled, now. Will it get stronger?”

“Stronger and stronger until you get what you need.” I shed my kimono and sandals.

Valentine took a long look at me. “At least you aren’t ugly,” he said, beginning to spread the lube on his beautiful dick. “You’re young, aren’t you?”

“Not so much,” I answered, wanting to laugh. God, he apparently had no experience with casual sex. “I’m past my thirties, if that makes it better for you.”

“It does,” he admitted. He looked scared to death. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I assured softly. “I promise.”

He shuddered. “Thank you.”

Before he could start another stalling conversation, I went to the bed and got on all fours. Almost before I could draw breath, I felt him gripping my hips. I loved the feel of his hot flesh hand and his cold, sharp metal one.

I opened and he sank into me smoothly. My groan of pleasure joined his in a chorus. God, he filled me up. Just fucking unreal. I could feel his pulse.

“Oh, god,” he gasped. “So…tight!”

I could make it tighter, but I thought maybe I shouldn’t. The idea was to let him get his relief without wearing him out. I could squeeze him hard enough to prevent an orgasm, though, and I might have to if it seemed he’d go from zero to sixty.

I felt him hold me carefully, drawing me backward slowly enough that I could protest. He genuinely feared hurting me, and he didn’t know how to hold a man. He was used to feminine curves and an easy handhold. I was angular, hard and smooth, and he had a difficult time feeling for a good grip.

I pushed back against him, letting him seat himself to his very balls. “Get what you require,” I said, enjoying how he whimpered at the sensation I caused. “This is about you, remember?”

He needed no more prompting. The drugs and the need overwhelmed him, and he roughly took me by the waist. I surrendered to his pounding, loving his force. Jesus, what’s not to love about having your best enemy give you dick? And even better, doing it well. He hit my prostate exactly right, and I doubted he even knew it was there.

“God…damn it,” he rasped out. “You’re hotter and tighter than any woman I’ve ever been in!” His grip on my waist increased, and he hauled me over himself with near-frantic purpose.

I would have smiled if I could spare the energy. It took all I had to hold onto the bed frame. If I’d known he could do this, I’d have arranged to have him years ago. I needed a strong lover, someone who could give me all the sweet pain I wanted. He could do me right. And, oh the things I could teach him.

It was over too soon, but I hadn’t expected him to last. It gave me a thrill when he wrapped his arms around me, keeping me still. Take my come, that gesture said. I wished I’d had a view of his beautiful face when he achieved orgasm.

He fell onto the bed, gasping. I went into the bathroom and cleaned up, slipping my kimono and sandals back on. When I came out, Valentine was under the covers and barely awake. He looked at my clothing. “You’re leaving,” he said. “I did hurt you.”

“No, you didn’t hurt me, Turk,” I said, touched that he continued to worry about this. “But, I do have to go.” I pulled a PHS from my bag and placed it on the table. “This has a tracking beacon. Reeve will find you in a few hours.” I put thirty thousand gil on the table, weighting it down with a glass of tea. “This will pay for the room and all we ate, plus breakfast for you and Reeve in the morning.”

Valentine might not have been able to tell who I was, or even to know much about what he just did, but he caught the incongruity. “You’re paying for all this? Isn’t Reeve compensating you?”

“I’ll get it back, don’t worry,” I said soothingly, putting on my long over-wrap. “Right now, this is just easier for all of us. Reeve carries plastic, and plastic isn’t good business in Xing-Lao.”

As I gathered up my things, Valentine tried to sit up and get a better look at me. “You’re Wutainese,” he murmured. “I thought so, but I couldn’t tell. My vision’s starting to get better.”

Hence the reason I needed to hurry and get the hell out. If he recognized me I shuddered to imagine the consequences. “Yes, this is my home city, unfortunately,” I said. “You can’t imagine I want to stay here.”

“No,” he admitted. “Thank you for…”

“I enjoyed it,” I told him, charmed by his cheeks blushing pink. “You’re very good.” With that, I went to the door. “Remember, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

I slipped out before he could thank me again.

Outside, in the rain, I used my cell to call Reeve.

“He’s alive and recovering from ill treatment,” I announced. “I hit the tracking beacon before leaving.”

“Thank Shiva,” Reeve said. “Hojo, how can I thank you if you won’t take money?”

I smiled. “You can forget my name when he asks about me.”