Maxwell: Wow…I feel so awkwardly…awkward! Okay, I know I said I’d be updating the others but since Ikiningyou isn’t being loved right now (not completely) I thought I’d do a one-shot for it. Sorry Mirage/Hakuji fans…this isn’t one of those. This is my favorite kink couple for the story…

My dear Mirage/Jesse pairing…how I love thee so. XD Okay, this is my dedication to my Passion-chan. Yes, forbidden passion it is for you…now love on me! XD Just kiddin’. But I hope this makes up for…lack of love!

Dedicated: Of course it’s to my Passion-chan! Yes, my online lesbian lover…lol. Actually she’s my only. Honest. I swear. XD Ah, what do you care? But you dedicated two poems to me and I just made you a character…so now I’ll dedicate this and make you another character! XD Yep, you’ll be in Collar Me Café cause I just adore you….mine. I hope my portrayal of Jesse is NOT offensive. He was just one of my fun youths, not as mature as he later turns out to be…

Spiffy Info:

Pairings: Mirage/Jesse

Warnings: This is sort or how I kinda will portray these two…I think. I don’t know, just lots of fighting and sex I guess. Fun-ness!

Music: I’m not in Love by 10cc (Ironically the voice I imagine for Mirage). This song screamed Mirage/Jesse as you shall see in this and in Ikiningyou.

Saying: I snagged the poem from you Love, I hope you don’t mind! XD Yes, the new one… Queen of my latent passion©. It’s so sexy…I feel so loved, so does Mirage. O.o Whoa…thank you!

About this story: Just a little lovin’ to my boys (well, boy and hermaphrodite) XD Lol-just playing…but this is just a little snippet of Mirage/Jesse pre-Hakuji. I hope it comes out okay…if not, I’m a horrible Lover. Mwahaha! This is how the two came to be…or meet…or something like it! I liked the idea…hopefully you will too.

Um…okay, I imagined this being about the beginning of Mirage’s career, he’s still rather cocky and stupid…but he’s older than Jesse, being I only made him nineteen in the story, so he’s probably fifteen-sixteen here…it’s all good right? Right. So imagine a younger (about 19 or so) Mirage!

Just for the record: This is FICTIONAL. If it really happened, do you think, I, would have access to such information? Hell no. No one would even think of giving me a glance. So no, this isn’t real. If you are offended by what is to happen…please go. I hate being told not to write what I don’t know… And the characters/settings/plot/etc. are mine. Amazing isn’t it?

Masquerade

-Dancing with a Stranger-

The bright lights dancing, the music pumping-just the normal strip joint scene you could say. Doors open and close as fools slip in and out, come in a cash cow leave a penniless pig. It doesn’t matter though, not when you feed my hunger. No, I don’t mean the way you toss your cash to me-as thrilling as that may be-I crave your attention, not your pension. Tonight all eyes are on me, just as it should be.

Soon the song ends and I whisk myself away from the stage, give one of these little boys a try…though I know I’ll be missed the most. Taking a break from my calling, I go to the bar letting my body sway with each step I take. I seat myself, sweat drenched and all on the high stool, my back arches with my every move. I flip away my unnatural hair, letting my eyes hazel eyes droop into a drug filled gaze. I spin the little umbrella between my fingers, letting my act really begin.

The child’s act lasts about five minutes before my turn once again begins. I take my time, letting the crowd get itself worked up, all over little ol’ me. Fine, I think ten minutes with out a little action suffices as I emerge again to my all-adoring crowd.

Dressed in leather I refrain to release you all from your pain. I smirk a bit as I sway my hip, cracking my whip as easy as breaking a stick. I drop to the floor; the lights are a down pour. My body is aching, oh the sounds I am making. My eyes meet blue; they’re quite stunning too. I know he’s a whore but surely no bore. I touch myself twisting while watching him whistling. I drop my mask while slapping my ass whilst his gaze seems to saunter.

Let the dancing begin…

I finish my current act, no questions asked. I didn’t pass it up though, played the damn thing out to its fullest. I was at war now, with that young hooker. As soon as I step off the stage I make my way towards the bar where he’ll be sure to follow. I make sure my eyes don’t come meet his own as I place myself in a seat on top a stool. I place an order and wait for the rest to fall into my lap (quite literally).

I down the bitter liquid, slamming the glass on the bar ordering up another. One by one they all go down burning my throat. I reach out for my fourth shot when a hand brushes my own. I look up to see my ice-eyed whore smiling down upon me.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks his voice washing over me. “I’d be a great pleasure.”

I contain my smirk, my face remains placid. “A great pleasure huh? And what would you want in return?” There is always a catch…that I’ve come to know.

His hands slid over the contours of my sides as his lips assault my ear, “To show me as much pleasure as you did on stage…physically.”

I smirk a bit now. “And you think that getting me drunk will fulfill your needs?” I rest my head back as I pull him forward, now it being my turn to assault his ear. “All you had to do was ask.”

I feel him chuckle, his body vibrates to my own. “I was hoping to seduce you,” he replies playfully. “What fun would it be if you agreed willingly?”

A moment’s pause as I graze his pale lobe. “I’ll only be willing to go as long as you’re prepared to play my lap dog.” I tell him. “Don’t think you’ll dominate me tonight young master, you may be head whore but you’re not above me my love.”

He pulls away, biting back a defensive comment. “A lap dog huh? Is that all love is worth to you?”

My hand slinks down past his shorts, grasping the inside of his shredded, fish-net masked, thigh. “That’s even my nicer compliments for a hooker such as yourself,” I stroke the marred skin. I extract a one-hundred dollar bill from my pocket, bringing it to eyes view as I taunt the flesh. “Take or leave it pup.”

His eyes shift to the bill then to my gaze once more. I see anger burning behind those iced eyes. “You’re rather cocky for being a few paychecks short of doing my job,” he snapped turning of his mismatched high-tops. “So before you get off all high and mighty, why don’t you think of where you’ll be tomorrow?”

I find myself rather intrigued by this young wench. “I know where I’ll be; but what about you?” He stops in his tracks, his shoes squeaking against the floor. “By your attitude I’d say you’re just a duckling in the pond aren’t you?” I sip my drink though keeping my eyes on him. “You’ve been working the strip around a week, maybe even your second; am I right?”

He whips around, the strobe light catching his pierced ears as a dazzle of colors bouncing off the walls. He narrows his sensual eyes at me, frowning bitterly. In turn it is a mock pout which reaches me. “Quit acting like you know me because you don’t.” his voice is a low growl. “Or are you like this to all the pretty ones?” the sarcasm in his voice is prominent.

I chuckled softly, loving his snappy commentary. “Only when I really want to have them,” I look up as I stand, making my way over a stop a few feet in front of him. “So, may I have this dance?” I asked; hand outstretched.

Fiercely we kissed; shredding clothes away, pulling at hair and biting lips. We wrestled into the apartment, pitching boots and kicking away high-tops. Next to be disposed was his poor attempt of a jacket-ratty and dirty as an old dishrag. It revealed a cut off tee shirt with a faded design, overlapping a long sleeved shirt riddled with holes. It was hard to believe underneath this sick effort of a wardrobe lay a beautiful body, one that has not been exposed to multiple orgasms (at the moment), one that was covered with dark, deep scars-self inflicted and earned-a body so fresh, so pure, a body that was to belong to me.

I admired his soft skin, tasting its bitter sweetness. I placed my lips to the calloused fingers as I trailed up his arm, whispers washing over the needle marks and bruises. I felt his free hand comb through my shoulder blade length hair, tugging and smoothing, he tickled at my neck with his fine nails. I lifted my head, his fingers intertwining behind my neck as he pulled me down, our lips locking in a sensual kiss nothing like before.

His tongue slid past my lips, probing curiously at the roof of my mouth. I found myself sucking at it caressingly; he mewled much like a kitten, touching me delicately. His fingers unlocked and slid down my goose fleshed skin, slowly he unbuttoned, unzipped, and unbuckled me out of my ensemble. He smirked into my lips, whispering carelessly (mostly just psycho babble) as he pulled me into the room….so professional.

We made our way to the bed, slowly setting down on the firm mattress. He spread his body beneath my own, bringing me down on him like a slip. We resumed in the soft kisses and body twisting touches. His icy eyes became soft and warm, almost deep with zeal.

… … …

“M-Mirage…” he called while his fingers pulled my hair, making my roots shriek as I taste and tickle him. “M-Mirage, ah…”

I tug and tease at his erect nipple, my teeth torturing him into pleasure. My hands grip his hips, nails leaving crescent moon shaped marks in the already blemished skin, even more so as he tries to grind and buck. Something in my head tells me that these are just small ways to avert his masochistic needs.

I pull away and lick my lips, a silver stream of saliva breaks and falls onto the sweat slicked chest of my charge. He looks at me caught between frustration and curiosity. I press my lips to his once more, occupying his thoughts for a moment as I open the leather confinement of my work pants, my hands mostly functioning on freeing him of his own torn shorts and fishnets.

“Uh-ah!” he gasps into the moist cavern of my mouth. He tries turning his head to see what I’m doing though he should be more than aware by the feel; nonetheless he struggles against me. “W-wait…” he begins to annoy me as his nails pinch and tear into my skin. “Mirage stop-” he grunts.

I grab both of his wrists, puzzling them in an uncomfortable position. He squawks from the unnatural pain but is soon to forget as his thoughts revolve around my traveling hand. I try to quiet him with my mouth again but his aggressive nature causes him to bite and tug harshly on the swollen, sensitive orifice.

I snap back, it soon becomes a fight of dominance. He tries to wrestle out of my grasp. Silly hooker, fighting with me is an ignorant decision. I press my knee to his raising pelvis, anchoring him to the mattress as I prepare myself. Once I am able to hold my own I turn his body over and once again fix him to the mattress. He snarls at me shouting obscenities and words never before heard.

“If you would’ve just seen things my way,” I tell him, my pre-erect organ now fully aroused from the circumstances. “Maybe things wouldn’t have been so bad.”

He tries to retaliate but with no such luck. His feasible shouts are soon husky moans that are begging for more. More white hot touches, more pain filled nips, more of what I have to offer. He arches himself back then spoons his body into mine; such an oddly seductive position. I groan into his ear, my hard member irregular against the tight fabric of his shorts.

“Get them off,” he rasps. “Just hurry up and do it already.”

What a temperamental little street performer I have on my hands. Fine, I’ll do as he asks just to get this over with. In the end he just wants his money. He won’t even want to stay the night with me, use any of my facilities or eat my food; he’ll just pack up and go….just like the rest. Something about him tells me he’s not like the rest. Something about him has me hooked. (Hooked on a hooker-ha, that’s a good one.)

“Face me,” I tell him.

“What?” his disgruntled remark nips me cold.

“I want you to face me.” I tell him. “Just shut up and do it.”

He glares over his shoulder, his relentless frown petty in my mind. I stare back, fighting off whatever feelings decide to invade. He was the first to break gaze, his body loosing its tense form as he melts into the nestled sheets. Once again we’re back to the brushes and grazes.

He’d fallen back, into my hand, the rules favoring me now. I render us nude, free to experience all. His lithe body so exotic, his skin is feathery down; I taste every bit of it. His foreign juices tangy on my tongue, though sweet all the way down. He calls to me, begs for more, pleads me to stop. (It’s too much for the duckling.)

Soon he is relaxed, just enough for me to spread him wide and examine. He flushes timidly as he tries to cover his exposed self. I relieve myself of a quiet chuckle as I tease him with demeaning words as my fingers invade his tight opening.

After a few moments he’s calling to me, his body like putty in my hands. I feel as if I can mold him to anything I want-a pet; a toy; maybe for fun even a lover. (What do I wish for most?) As I ponder these thoughts I can hear his voice, faint and estranged. There is only one thing he wants at the moment. Me.

I spread his legs wide, much wider than once set. He barely flinches; his head tossing, his hips rising. He calls for me again, this time with such an odd passion. His voice is so alien. Nothing like it has been. It causes me to fumble over him, my body clumsily concealing his own. I lift myself, staring down at the moist, hot form beneath my own. He smiles tenderly as he pulls my face down letting his lips just barely brush. I can feel the warmth of his face burning into my own as I return the ghostly feeling.

For a moment my voice is that of another. “Are you ready?” I hear it ask, so soft and caressing. He nods, his limbs entangling themselves in my own. “Just relax…” I whisper. It feels odd telling him to do his job but he nods just the same. I can’t help but smirk. “That’s a good boy.”

Entering his body I feel the heat engulf my erection. He shudders as his muscles clamp down on me. I stop once I’m completely inside him, the tight heat making my member throb against his prostate. He gasps and bucks into me. I grunt into the air, grinding myself on him.

“M-Mirage!” he calls, his back arching in such a way…. “Please….”

I slowly ease out of his body but am quick to thrust back inside. I hear him yelp, his hips rising. I continue torturing him like this, my thrusts coming faster and harder. He continues his soft cries for the first few though soon he is begging and arching for more.

He rakes his nails across my back, the skin welting, blood beading upon it. His mouth is open and moist against my skin. I can feel his teeth nibbling at my flesh, leaving little love marks variously on my chest. Playfully I buck a little harder but I find I enjoyed the soft noise he made so I try it again.

“A-ahn!” he flushes as he holds me in between his tight thighs. “S-stop,” he tries to repeat himself but I repeat the process. “A-ah! Mirage, ah!”

I enjoy the way he looks, the way he sounds, the way he feels right now. I’m almost sorry this little dance is coming to an end. I swallow deep, my breaths losing their jagged edge as they form a more conscious sound. I grip the underside of his thighs and lift them. I position myself up, raising his body with my own.

I thrust into him again, hitting him deeper and more forceful than before. He grips the sheets around him. “Harder….” I hear him panting. “Please, harder…”

I drop my hands to the sides of his head thrusting upward just as I once was, knocking hard against his body. His head tosses to the side, his back arching in such a provocative way (you’d almost believe he was faking it) I can’t stop myself from coming inside. As I do my head drops to his chest, his own seed spilling out onto me before being smeared between our two figures. We lie still for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of another’s warm body. When the cold air finally does invade our space we find ourselves on separate sides of the soiled bedding.

I look over at his resting form, his body still spasming gently. I grab for a pair of pants and pull them on, heading towards my dresser. I grab a cigarette and light it between my swollen lips. Removing my wallet I thumb through the bills inside.

“How much do I owe you?” I ask, my eyes counting all the money lost in less than an hours time. Looking up from the wallet to Jesse, I see him brushing his hair away from those ice cold eyes I enjoyed so much. “You’ll want at least one hundred right?” As I sift through the leather packet a pillow side swipes my skull. “What the Hell?” I ask, pulling the cigarette from my mouth.

“You’re a jerk!” the young boy shouts. “I can’t believe even after that you’re trying to pay me!” His arms extend over the bed as to verify our time together as ‘that’. “I didn’t come here….You just….” He wiped at his eyes. “I hate you Mirage…”

A pang of guilt gets to me. “I’m just paying you for…I’m paying you for doing your job!” I snap. “Why are you crying?”

“Because I’m not a hooker you asshole!” he snaps. “Until tonight I’ve never had sex!” His face is red from yelling. “But you’re just treating me like another corner catch!” He gets out of the bed, snatching up his fishnets and shorts. “Where the Hell is my shirt?” He wipes tears away frustrated.

I can’t help but stare at his shaking form. He cusses bitterly as he throws bedding around in search of his clothing. “You’re not a street walker?” I ask. “Then why didn’t you say so earlier at the club?”

“Cause I thought if I told you I wasn’t you wouldn’t want to.” He pulls his shirts on, dusts off his shorts. “Shoes….”

“Look,” I explain. “Yes I thought you were a hooker and maybe I did bring you home for those reasons but,” I scratch the back of my head. “I don’t want you to leave alright? With them it’s like that but….well I took your virginity didn’t I? I’m not going to be responsible if you decide to kill yourself because some good looking stripper deflowered you!”

He looks up; a soft smile graces his face. “It couldn’t have been a bad looking stripper?” he asks.

“I’m gorgeous what are you talking about?” I ask only to realize after he was mocking me. “Are you saying I’m not attractive?”

He smirked, his arctic eyes harassing me. “Anyone who offers me money after we’ve had sex is ugly.”

I bit back. “Touché,” I mutter. “But you had me tricked under false pretenses.”

“False pretenses?!” He recoiled. “And what made you believe that?”

I simply nodded my head towards his outfit. “And unless you are often found at rave’s it’s not hard to believe you’re a hooker.”

“This isn’t even close to my rave gear,” he replied smugly. “These are just street clothes.”

“And your mother knows you walk around like that?” I ask.

His eyes shift to the floor. “No, she’s not around. Personally I don’t think she’d care.”

I swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean that.” I noticed how he’d shift his feet uncomfortably. “Do you even have a home?” I ask. I was all too familiar with that neglected adolescent look. “You know I don’t mind putting up with you.”

His polar eyes suddenly took on a more vibrant color. “Really?!” he asked. I swear I saw a tail and a small pair of dog ears emerge from him. “You mean it? You really mean it? So you can’t take it back now no matter what?!”

“Yeah,” I laughed a bit. “I mean it. You have my word. Well, until you reach a certain age. I don’t mind putting up with you until you’re twenty one. You’re what right now? Eighteen? Nineteen?”

“Fifteen!”

“W-what?” I sputter. “You’re only fifteen?!”

“Yeah!” he suddenly calms down. “Hey, you said you’d keep me until I’m twenty one. You can’t go back on your word; you promised!”

“Yeah but that was-I-you!” He stared up at me in such a way I couldn’t say no. “F-fine….this is fucking insane…” I drop on the bed, ignoring the sticky feeling that was prominent on my back. I threw my arm over my eyes. “Man…”

I felt the weight from his side of the bed shift as it was placed upon me. I pull my arm away to see Jesse, his shorts clad figure pressing on top of me. “You know…I don’t need much. Just food, water, a bath and some attention every now and then…” he blinked shyly, glancing at me.

I reach up and stroke his cheek. “Are you saying you’re willing to be my lap dog then?”

He lay down, covering my chest with his soft warm body. “I’m saying I want to be with you. I want to be yours.” He nipped my earlobe swiftly. “And I’m willing to get on my back for you if you’re willing to rub my belly.

I grinned at the youth before turning over on him, pinning his frame to the mattress. I smirked as his face reddened. “You be a good boy and do as your Master tells you.”

“Hai. Nushi-sama.”

I could get use to this…

-Dancing with a Stranger-

Maxwell: Eh. That got lame in the end. I apologize heavily. It always gets hard to write after the sex scene has been done. So it was lame but I hope it was okay? That was pretty much how they met….it was fun when I started it then I never updated it so….please let me know how you feel on it.

As for Jesse…I always imagined him being a quirky little rebel Anarchist boy. Yep. No, he’s not a whore when first meeting Mirage. You’ll see how it goes from this to that in the story….um…I know I had more to say but I can’t remember….any questions just drop a line….and look out for Mimi’s Café! Yes, it is a account….check it out for some very familiar faces! The girls need some support!