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Lessons in Living	By : Darkprism Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto - neither characters nor story lines - and I make no money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 5
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Tenzou's cell phone was ringing. He opened one eye, cussed into his pillow, and thought of Kakashi in jail. The thought was pleasant enough to get him coordinating motor skills. He accidentally smacked the lampshade, cursed when the light rocked dangerously close to tipping over, and snatched the phone off the nightstand. The call was from, "UNKNOWN" and that made Tenzou's heart skip a beat, humorous thoughts of Kakashi, iron bars, and dropped soap aside.

"M'lo?" Tenzou answered. No one replied. He glanced at the screen and saw the call had already disconnected.

"Well, fuck you very much," Tenzou muttered, setting the phone on the table and flopping back onto the bed. He'd just managed to shut his eyes when the landline started to ring. Tenzou blinked at the ceiling, rotated his head to stare at the glowing cradle holding the portable handset, and slowly rolled to switch on the lamp. The caller ID read, UNKNOWN NUMBER. Tenzou picked up the phone.

"Asashi," Tenzou answered in his best military direct voice. Static hissed, and the line went dead.

"The... hell...?" Tenzou killed the connection, and the first flutters of suspicious fear stirred in his guts. He waited in the silence of the still house. The drapes over the picture window to his right fluttered above the heat vents. The sheets were slightly damp, the pale gray cotton hitting him at the waist and covering his naked body. The down comforter was neatly folded at the bottom of the mattress. His bedroom door was open with a view to the hallway beyond, a nightlight glowing a soft green. His Colt was holstered and hanging on the headboard post within easy reach, loaded and ready. Nothing moved, and he couldn't tell the difference between his pulse and the faint ticking of a clock.

Blowing a slow breath, Tenzou twisted to hang up the phone, and the thing came to life in his hands. His cell phone rang, too, and the grandfather clock downstairs began to drone, which made no fucking sense as it was ten past two in the morning. Damned thing tolled only the hour.

All the screens read, "UNKNOWN" and Tenzou hit both the cell and the portable's connect buttons at the same time. "Hello?" he said, possibly too loudly, and the crack of static was the only answer. It lasted slightly longer, plenty long enough for Tenzou's pulse to begin to race, and then everything went dark and quiet yet again. Tenzou glanced at the portable phone's base, and dropped everything in a trained blur of motion to go for his weapon when something thumped onto the bed. He spun while raising the gun's barrel in a two-handed grip, aiming and ready.

But nobody was there. Just the nightlight, the door, the edge of the mattress... and the file Kakashi had compiled about Sai now lying on the smooth sheet on what had once been Jack's side of the bed. Tenzou distinctly remembered leaving that folder downstairs after he'd come in from his tantrum in the shop and his declaration at the garage doors. He lowered the Colt, and bent with one arm extending toward the file. Before he got to it, however, the cover flipped open.

Tenzou yelped and backpedaled. You would think that after a year of being haunted and tormented he would get used to these little stunts. It was one thing, he guessed, to go seeking Jack for comfort. It was another when Jack came calling for him. Tenzou sat rigid against the headboard, chest heaving, while a single page twitched, shifted, and scooted toward him.

"Jack?" Tenzou asked. Nothing answered at first, but then the entire bed rocked like somebody had run into its side. Tenzou flailed and sat the gun down before he blew off his own dick.

"I'll take that as a yes," Tenzou muttered, picking up the piece of paper. It had Sai's basic information, the photo sheet clipped to it, and it took Tenzou probably longer than it should have to piece together what Jack wanted him to do.

"I'm not calling anybody at two in the freakin' morning." Tenzou put the page back into the file, and the bed pitched again, but weaker this time. "That's insane." The phones started to ring, and for a second, Tenzou thought about marching downstairs out of the reach of any phone line, shoving his fingers in his ears, and singing show tunes at the top of his lungs. The image helped him from losing what was left of his mind.

"Enough!" Tenzou shouted, exhausted from the day and the deluge. He knew from experience that if he didn't do this now, his only option would be to go spend the night at a hotel. Sooner or later, though, he'd have to come home. At this point, he wasn't even sure moving would help. If Jack could make phones ring and beds rock, whisper to cleaning ladies, and appear in sunbeams, Tenzou was pretty sure a little thing like relocation wouldn't be a hindrance.

"You want to dial him for me, too?" Tenzou groused, leaning to read the phone number next to the castle residence address. He got his cell, unlocked the keys, and held the screen aloft. After a moment, he lowered it, saw that nothing had been entered, and typed in the digits. "Oh, well. Good thing, I guess. Doing that much might be realinterference."

The bed bounced, but gently, and Tenzou translated it as a mild retort. He was so goddamned tired that he forgot to panic about calling his artistic stalker in the wee hours of the morning until the phone started to ring out. He almost found sanity and hung up, but after a mere one and a half tones, the quality of sound shifted to indicate someone had picked up. They didn't speak, however, and Tenzou threw a glare in what he imagined to be Jack's general direction. If the ass was fucking with him after all that--

"Is it you?" asked a quiet, deep voice that Tenzou recognized as Sai's. Well, thank God for small favors. If Sai's guardian had answered, Tenzou didn't exactly have a ready excuse handy.

"This is Tenzou," he said.

"I wanted it to be you." Sai spoke in a breathy whisper too close to the speaker. Tenzou shivered when the timbre sent goosebumps down his spine and across his chest and arms.

"Looking forward to me getting in touch to say I'm having you arrested, mm?" Tenzou asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and resting his forearms on his thighs.

"You won't arrest me."

"How do you know?" Tenzou asked, amused and surprised by it.

Sai hesitated. "Because... because I gave you art."

Tenzou laughed, albeit manically. "Get out of a lot of trouble that way, do you?"

"No."

Tenzou waited for more, and when it didn't come, he sighed. "Sai, I'm calling because--"

"I had the phone in my studio," Sai interrupted, louder, now, and Tenzou blinked at the floorboards. "I never do that. But I thought... if you... I needed to answer. I don't sleep. Not really. Not much. And I was thinking about you. I'm painting you again. And you called. Nobody ever calls."

"Can't think as to why," Tenzou deadpanned, but Sai's genuine and innocent surprise was the kind of endearing truly dangerous to Tenzou's sense of propriety.

"You wouldn't have done it if you were really angry. So you're not. Are you?"

"That's what I was--"

"Tell me you're not."

"I can't tell you anything if you won't let me," Tenzou pointed out, but gently. It was, after all, the middle of the night and these were strange circumstances, and God help him, but Tenzou couldn't find it within him to channel the irritation or the rage he'd harbored earlier. Not when most of that shit had been at himself, not with Sai's husky voice panicked in his ear, and not after his decision to face this and put it to bed before it snowballed any further.

"I'm..." Sai's sigh was a roar that made Tenzou pull away and wince. "I like your voice."

"Thank you," Tenzou said absently. He scrubbed at his forehead with the side of one fist. "And no, I'm not really angry, but we do need to talk."

"We are talking."

"Face-to-face would be better, I think," Tenzou replied, patiently. "That's why I'm calling." He tried to ignore the exasperated part of himself that threw its hands up in the air at the idea of admitting he was calling a kid to arrange a hook up at half past go-fuck-yourself o'clock.

"Now?" Sai asked.

"What, now?"

"Do you want to see me now?"

"Uh, it's... I was thinking maybe daylight would be more appropriate."

"I like night time. And it's easier for me to get away at night than it is by day."

"Get away?" Tenzou repeated, concern flaring.

"From... from work."

Tenzou didn't miss the stammer or the way Sai's voice fell to a whisper. "Sai, are you in some kind of... danger where you are?"

"Danger?" Sai sounded confused.

"Or trouble?"

"No."

"Well... good." Tenzou clucked his tongue. "If you want to meet now..." He trailed off. It wasn't like he was going to get much more rest, anyway. Especially not if Jack decided Tenzou should have agreed to the midnight rendezvous instead of waiting like a normal human being. It'd be better to get the conversation with Sai out of the way sooner rather than later, and, if Sai was less inconvenienced by the middle of the night, then so be it. "I can do that. There's a coffee shop in Shadgrove called The Addiction Feed."

"I know it."

"You do?" Tenzou was surprised. The place was a hole in the wall that catered to the kind of insomniac kept awake at night by conspiracy theories or obsessions with celebrities, government, or news as opposed to those people who just stayed up all night watching porn and jerking off.

"It's close to my house," Sai said.

"Perfect. See you there in... thirty?"

"Yes."

"All right, then." Tenzou started to say more, but Sai had already hung up. Tenzou chuckled and climbed out of bed to get dressed.

~*~

The sound of an old modem connecting to the Internet hissed when Tenzou walked into The Addiction Feed. The shop was dimly lit by low-wattage bulbs in dingy yellow and demonic red. The walls were papered with tabloid covers, conspiracy journals, and pictures of Big Foot, the Loch Ness Monster, and Elvis. The hodgepodge of scattered tables came in a range of sizes, and several of them were occupied by men in hoodies whose shadowy eyes were illuminated by their laptops. Tenzou's trench coat and surplus boots fit right in, and he stalked to the counter in the back left corner. It was encircled by a metal cage and sheets of Plexi Glass carved with air holes, very reminiscent of a rodent's lair.

A girl whose piercings added ten pounds to her one-hundred pound frame eyed Tenzou over the rim of her manga, bored. "Yeah?"

"Large coffee. House blend's fine." Tenzou laid a five-dollar bill on the lip of counter and slid it under the cage wire.

"Sure." The girl took the money, put it in a jar, and shuffled to the bank of machines and containers along the wall. While she grabbed a cup and began to pour, a dark-haired, slender man got up from a metal folding chair situated in front of three computer monitors. His desk was covered in yellow legal pads full of pictogram code painstakingly drawn in black ink. He approached Tenzou with his hands in the pockets of his black slacks. They matched his dress shirt. Short, slight, and chronically exhausted looking, the proprietor of The Addiction Feed and sometimes-spy for Neji and the Vigilante Core always reminded Tenzou of a miniature Lurch with a serious skull-and-crossbone fetish.

"Ulquiorra," Tenzou said in greeting.

"Asashi." The thin lips barely moved, and the wide-set, blank, green-eyed stare made Tenzou wonder yet again what the guy was on. "Have something for me?"

"Not tonight. Here on personal business." Tenzou accepted his coffee from the girl with a forced smile. She didn't acknowledge it, perching on her stool and going back to reading without a word.

"Ah," Ulquiorra said, turning toward a back booth. "That one, then." He nodded to Sai, who sat hunched over the tabletop, scribbling.

"Good to see you," Tenzou said, topping his cup with a lid and heading for his appointment.

"No, it wasn't," Ulquiorra contradicted without venom, returning to his computer station.

Tenzou snorted, silently hoped Neji sent the private investigator work soon to keep Ulquiorra occupied and out of trouble, and approached Sai. The boy didn't so much as look up until Tenzou sat down on the bench across from him. Sai wore a deep blue silk shirt with the mandarin collar he seemed to favor, and there were embroidered black flowers next to each of the hook-and-eye clasps. His hair was disheveled, as though not brushed for days, and his expression changed from focused to fearful to hopeful. Tenzou swallowed thickly.

"Hi, Sai." Tenzou sipped his coffee, wincing when it was not only hot, but strong enough to arm wrestle. The flavor was sharp on his tongue, rich and smoky.

"Hello." Sai put down his pen and turned the sketchbook so Tenzou could see. On the piece of paper, Tenzou sat in this very booth, holding a cup and looking somber. Tenzou wore different clothing, but the likeness and prediction were eerie, and once again Tenzou thought about how much Jack would have liked this boy.

"That's... very good."

Sai didn't smile, exactly, but his eyes got wider, impossibly luminous. He picked up the pen and held it to his chest with two small fists. "You're hard to draw, and I like it."

"I am?" Tenzou couldn't help to ask.

Sai nodded, serious as a heart attack. "There's... you have a lot to you. Under the surface that's just skin and bone and function. What... makes you is complex, but very pretty." Sai's fists twisted tighter on the pen. "Handsome, I mean," he corrected quickly, gaze dropping to the table. "Handsome."

"Thank you." Tenzou shifted on the bench and shrugged out of his coat. Seeing Sai in person was bizarre. On one hand, it felt like he knew more about this kid than anyone else; like they were old friends. On the other, Tenzou addressed a fragile, youthful stranger with a crush that could dwarf mountain ranges.

But maybe it was unfair, calling what Sai exhibited a "crush." It undermined the risk Tenzou was fairly sure Sai was taking to tell Tenzou who he was, what he wanted. Tenzou knew a thing or two about risks, particularly of the emotionally vulnerable kind. It'd been years, but those memories were like breathing: the moment you were paying attention, it got harder to do, every piece of you zoned in on an action that was supposed to be involuntary, and you got terrified that at any second, the spell would break.

Tenzou sighed, trying to figure out where in the hell to begin, and he took a long slug of coffee. "Sai, we need to talk about what's been going on."

"You said you weren't angry." Sai's eyes flicked all over Tenzou's face, and he clutched the pen so tightly Tenzou worried it would snap.

"I'm not angry with you," Tenzou replied, trying to keep his tone as gentle and calm as possible.

Sai watched Tenzou narrowly. "Then why are you acting as though you're going to tell me to go away again?"

"I don't mean to." Tenzou mentally cursed this kid's ability to say the very thing that completely derailed Tenzou into reactionary tactics.

"So you don't want me to go away, then?"

"I-er, that's not... look." Tenzou leaned forward, and Sai mimicked the movement. "I called you in the middle of the night. I came out here to meet you. These aren't signs of someone who's trying to... to..."

"I know," Sai said, and he was close enough that Tenzou could smell mint on his breath. "But you lie to yourself by speaking out loud to others."

Tenzou gaped, caught himself, and closed his mouth. "That's... no I don't!"

"Yes, you do."

Unsure how it was, exactly, that conversations with Sai degenerated into childish arguments, Tenzou fought back the faint stirrings of irritation. "Don't start this ag--"

"You like me." Sai slammed the pen on the table and swept aside the sketchbook. He was frowning, nearly scowling, black brows meeting over his nose. He slid an arm toward Tenzou and touched Tenzou's bare wrist with a single fingertip. "I know you do. But you don't like that you do."

"For a kid who can't tell if I'm angry, you have some very interesting theories as to the rest of my feelings."

"The good stuff is easy to read in you, even for me. It's why I want you."

"Why... you... what?" Tenzou floundered, heart firmly lodged near his vocal chords. All the evidence of the obvious aside, it was still a small miracle to hear the sentiment spoken out loud as easily as leaves rustling in a summer breeze.

"It's the bad that's a mess." Sai sighed, almost indignant, and Tenzou wanted to laugh.

"All right." Tenzou steadied himself. "Let me start by telling you a little about me, okay, that way I--"

"Real things?" Sai asked, suspicious. "Because I don't want to listen to the fake things."

Tenzou's lips worked without sound again, and he berated himself liberally for letting a man half his age and so green it made emeralds dull in comparison get to him. "Well, I don't want to say the... the fake things. So I'll try the, erm, real stuff."

"Okay," Sai agreed, evidently placated. He brightened, like somebody flicked a switch. "Can I hold your hand while you talk?"

"Ah, ehdn... you--"

"I like touching you."

"Uhm--"

"And I don't get to. Touch, I mean. Anybody, really. And don't like it, normally. Makes my skin feel slimy, but you..." Sai's head tilted in thought, and he stared at his own finger tracing a line from Tenzou's wrist to knuckles. "It's not like that with you."

Palm tingling, Tenzou turned his hand and clasped Sai's. The effect such a simple thing had on Sai was mesmerizing. Sai's lips parted in what had to be wonder, face ticking through clearly visible expressions: happiness, surprise, curiosity. Tenzou squeezed, marveling at how Sai's whole fist nearly fit in his. Tenzou was too warm after being too cold for too long, and he took a few deep breaths, thinking of his shop, his furniture, his resolve.

"Sai, do you understand what interrupting is?" Tenzou counseled the kind of patience he once had used for Jack when completely lost during a scene.

"Interrupting, present participle of interrupt. Verb meaning to halt progress."

"Very good," Tenzou said slowly and methodically. "When I speak, and you jump in to say something, that's what you're doing."

Sai bit his lip. "I know? I can't... I'm sorry."

"Forgiven," Tenzou said easily, and Sai blinked at him, evidently absorbing. "But I need you to stop giving in to that impulse and listen to me, starting right now."

Sai took a breath and straightened as though about to ask a question, but he kept quiet with obvious and, Tenzou had to admit, adorable effort. He nodded, and Tenzou rewarded him by covering their joined hands with Tenzou's free one.

A flush crept across Sai's cheekbones, and Tenzou choked on the protective instinct that flared fast and hot through his core. "During our second meeting," Tenzou chose the word carefully, "you asked me if I had a home. I didn't answer you, then, because you caught me off guard, but I think it's important that I do so now." Tenzou paused while Sai shifted in the seat, tucking legs to sit in a sort of kneel. The kid was listening with such enthralled attention it was equal parts exhilarating and embarrassing, but Tenzou continued, anyway.

"Growing up, my best friend was Jack Lawson. He lived in our neighborhood, and we went to school together. When we were sixteen, we started messing around. I'm not sure we knew back then what exactly was going on. We just understood that kissing each other felt a lot better than making out with our girlfriends." Tenzou paused. Telling this story usually hurt like hell, but this time it was a simmering sting floating below the surface. He wasn't sure what to make of that, and he hadn't exactly meant to go into so much detail, but it was too late to back down now. "We... were each other's firsts, and we stayed close until I left home at eighteen to join the military. I didn't want to go into the family business at the time, and I had this fascination with uniform and rank." Tenzou chuckled at himself. "Jack ended up going off to some school out West, and I thought that was the end of it. The letters eventually stopped, and well..." Tenzou shrugged. "I got to serve through two tours over six years, one of those in special ops, and then I got shot three times in an engagement that killed the rest of my men."

"Oh..." Sai uttered the single syllable, hand clenching in Tenzou's, and his lips turned white from the pressure to keep them shut.

"It's all right," Tenzou reassured the kid. "I recovered, moved back home, and went to school for architecture. It's wasn't... quite the death sentence I thought it would be. One day, I was sitting in my parents' living room doing homework, and there was this knock at the door. I answered, and it was Jack. He looked..." Tenzou swallowed on the memory of Jack in a sweater and jeans, brown bangs in his dark eyes and bottle of vodka in a paper bag beneath one arm.

"Hey."

"Jack? What... what're you...?"

"I heard you were home."

"How?"

"I pay attention."

"It's... it's good to... I mean..."

"Invite me in, asshole."

"Shit. Yeah. Come in. Sorry."

"Thanks."

"How've you... how are you?"

"Okay. Nice limp."

"Oh. Yeah. It'll... get better."

"Sexy."

"You think?"

"Tenzou..."

"What?"

"Hug me, already. Christ."

"Oh... okay."

"He looked good," Tenzou finished. "We... we got together. I graduated and took over my father's firm after Pop died. We got an apartment, built a house, made all these plans. We got married in our backyard a year after I took over the Asashi Firm while everything was still under construction. Small ceremony, just friends and family." Sai's hand moved in slow motion and one finger touched Tenzou's wedding band, as though feeling the talisman would make it real. Tenzou didn't like bringing all this shit out into the open, but if Sai was going to keep painting murals on his house, best the boy know who used to live there.

"But a year and a half ago, Jack was diagnosed with aggressive cancer. They aren't even sure where it started, it was so... Anyway, he died thirteen months ago, in bed at home, while I held his..." Tenzou looked down at their interlocking fingers. "Hand."

Sai squirmed, silently but in obvious distress. Tenzou petted Sai's wrist, soothing words dying on his tongue when Sai leveraged higher on the bench. Intrigued, Tenzou didn't recant his request for quiet, and Sai bent gracefully from the waist. Sai hesitated, hovering in midair with a show of strength that Tenzou admired, and then, faintly, Sai kissed the very tip of Tenzou's thumb.

Were there any doubts remaining that Tenzou had a certain fondness for the boy, the show of affection set fire to their funeral pyre. Tenzou raked fingers into Sai's hair, shocked by its coarse, thick texture. Sai went rigid, body rippling with rapid respiration, and Tenzou stopped, worried and slightly pained by the reaction. "Sit back," Tenzou softly commanded, and Sai's retreat would have made a mongoose envious. Sai's neck was flushed red, and he swayed like a reed in the wind. "Sai? Are you... It's not interrupting if you talk now."

"I didn't mean to!" Sai blurted, loudly enough that the girl behind the caged counter threw them an irked raised eyebrow.

"Didn't mean to what?" Tenzou asked, alarmed but trying not to let it show in his voice.

"Make you... remind... have you... to..." Sai's struggle inspired a suffocating wave of sympathy, and Tenzou had to tell himself not to panic and grab the kid when Sai yanked away from him.

Sai clutched at both shoulders, arms crossed. "I don't like that Jack died," Sai said in a breathless blur to the table, gaze wide and wild.

"You didn't have any--"

"I don't like that you hurt," Sai continued, barreling over Tenzou's phrasing as though Tenzou didn't speak at all. "I don't like. it. I think I made it worse. I didn't mean to. I don't want to remind you of him. I don't want to be him. But I want you to speak of me like you speak of Jack." The words started to run together. "I want to be me. And I want you to want me." Sai let go of a muted cry of frustration that sent chills up Tenzou's spine. "But I want to bring him back, too. I want to save him for you. I've never... I don't... even with Mother and Father... I... I... I..."

Tenzou got to his feet, waved a hand through the air in a conciliatory gesture to anyone who might be distressed by the display, and he slid onto Sai's bench. Sai hiccoughed a squawk, retreating from Tenzou in a movement that shoved an invisible blade of icy steel through Tenzou's belly.

Sai shook his head from side to side, not quite a negative. More like a manic sway of some sort. "I'm not good at this... not good... not good..."

Tenzou halted his advance, lamenting over what in the fuck to do with the hyperventilating, distraught boy. The situation had gone to shit too fast to be possible. He tried to remember anything he'd ever read about autism, couldn't think of a single goddamned line, swore he'd change that sooner rather than later, and fixated on Sai's pen. On impulse, he picked it up and held it out to Sai, who snatched it with both hands. Sai gasped, hugging the inkpen like some children held teddy bears.

"That's it," Tenzou murmured, low and careful. "Breathe for me, Sai." He reached toward Sai's shoulder, and Sai twisted.

"Don't touch me, yet," Sai ordered, head bowed.

"Okay," Tenzou agreed quickly, palms up in temporary defeat. "Only what you want, Sai, I promise."

Sai unwound with a gushing exhale, nodding weakly. Tenzou made fists to keep himself from wrapping the boy in an embrace, and he whirled and almost punched Ulquiorra in the face, startled by a subtle noise and a sense of intrusion. Ulquiorra glared at him, nonplussed, and slid a glass of water to the center of the table. The skulls hanging from Ulquiorra's earlobes and necklace tinkled.

"Thank you," Tenzou muttered. Ulquiorra snorted, pivoted, and walked away. Tenzou rotated in time to see Sai's hands drop from in front of his chest to his lap, pen still in his grip.

"When I was little, Danzou enrolled me in a martial arts school," Sai whispered, practically doubled in half. Tenzou had to lean to hear him, pulse pounding, and Tenzou was completely confused as to where this bit of confession was going.

"Having people around made me feel like I was going more insane than I felt most of the time." Sai shivered. "And anyone touching me made me sick. I used to... used to scream until I threw up."

Tenzou was slightly ill just hearing about it. "Danzou thought marital arts would... help?"

"He told me it would make me listen, force me to pay attention to the people around me, get me used to unexpected impact, and I'd learn to defend myself."

Tenzou couldn't exactly fault the logic, but it seemed a cruel solution, nonetheless. "How old were you?"

"Four and a half."

"Four?"

"And six months. I... I ran away or hid at first, but Danzou and Sensei... insisted." Sai sat up, pale and appearing far older than his years. "I learned how to separate myself from sensation. I learned how to talk. To explain and use words. I had to. It was learn or... die?"

"I see," Tenzou said in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

"I kept going even after they took me out of school to do only art. I liked to practice. I was good."

"You are," Tenzou agreed. "I experienced that first hand."

Sai finally looked at Tenzou. "It... helped. I changed dojos a few years ago. I see Gai-sensei, now. Privately. No other people."

"I know Gai." Tenzou's relief that Sai was in caring hands when training knew no bounds. Gai was made for Sai's sort of challenge and would handle Sai with respect and tenderness.

"Yes," Sai said simply. He licked his lips and glanced at Tenzou's arm resting on the back of the bench. "You can touch me, now, if you still want to."

"I do," Tenzou said, inching closer but freezing when Sai's hand shot out to catch Tenzou's wrist in an unforgiving grip.

"But you have to tell me how," Sai said, chest rising and falling faster.

Rolling with the fast and unpredictable metaphoric punches, Tenzou steadied himself. He smiled, deliberately, and thought he'd be able to handle the request to explain actions before doing them. He had some practice with that, after all. Just here and there. "I can do that, Sai. I'd like to put an arm around you, hug you, and let go to hold your hand while we keep talking."

Sai considered the list with a pensive expression. "Okay," Sai agreed, firmly. He uncoiled from against the wall, turning to one side, and watched Tenzou like a cat spying a mouse.

"Thank you," Tenzou said absently, bracing himself. He did as he'd warned, looping his left arm across Sai's narrow shoulders. The boy was so much smaller than Tenzou, seemingly fragile despite the musculature and definition Tenzou could feel beneath the silk. Sai tensed, breath catching, and Tenzou gently tugged Sai against him. Sai smelled like detergent and, fainter, of paint thinner. Tenzou clasped Sai's arm briefly, began to let go, but at an unexpected and unforeseen apex, Sai wavered, and the boy flung about Tenzou with both arms. Tenzou grunted with the impact.

"Oh," Sai said, almost a whimper, but a relieved one. He rested his cheek against Tenzou's chest on an awkward angle, and Tenzou dared to increase the pressure of the hold. Sai slumped, and Tenzou had to catch him, else he go face first into Tenzou's lap. "It's different. I thought... but it's... oh."

Tenzou was completely speechless, doe-eyed blind in the headlights of a bullet train, and he stared dumbstruck at his armful of Sai. His heart hammered so hard it threatened to bruise his sternum. Sai's earnest abandon physically hurt Tenzou; his eyes burned, his head throbbed, and his muscles ached like they'd held a strain for years tipping to decades. Delicately, Tenzou brushed a palm over Sai's hair, and Sai wilted with a soft sound that was alarming and alluring in equal measure. He tried to call the boiling seas of caged desire and the tornado of new information to order, but for long minutes, there was nothing to be done but hold, caress, and digest.

The embrace that had truly only held one other soul in sanctuary now encircled a creature as fragile as he was courageous, as lost as he was certain, and as hungry as he was bold. Running for the door like the building was on fire probably wasn't an option any longer, but Tenzou needed a net under this ever-elongating tightrope, and the only way to do that was with mutual understanding.

Encouraging Sai to let go and sit up was a slow task, but Sai eventually unfurled. Tenzou handed Sai the glass of water, which Sai drank, wiping his mouth with his shirtsleeve when finished. He faced Tenzou, sitting sideways on the bench, and snatched Tenzou's hand with both of his. Sai's gaze was clear and direct.

"Better?" Tenzou asked.

"Yes."

"Good." Tenzou rubbed at the scruff of his beard. "Sai, I..." Tenzou floundered and gave an exasperated sigh. "Nothing that happened with Jack -- nothing you did, had anything to do with Jack or with my grief. I was, well, am, I guess, wallowing just fine on my own."

"Why?" Sai interjected.

"Which means," Tenzou continued, throwing Sai a significant look that made Sai press his lips together. "That I'm in no shape for a relationship with anyone." Sai muffled a sound of clear protest, gripping Tenzou's hand too tightly for comfort. "Especially someone who's not familiar with how these things can go, what can happen. I'd just end up hurting..." Tenzou stopped. Sai was wriggling closer, obviously about to burst in his efforts to hold the peace. "All right," Tenzou conceded, wearily. "Go ahead."

"I want to hurt," Sai said.

"You don't know what you're saying, Sai. No one wants--"

"Yes. I. Do." Sai said each word distinctly, snarled when Tenzou attempted to reply, and slapped a hand over Tenzou's mouth. They sat in mutual shock for a few seconds, Tenzou getting lost and amused at the way Sai stared at his appendage like he wasn't sure what the hell it was doing.

Tenzou reached to undo Sai's clamp, hanging on to the offending hand to show no harm had been done. "I'm listening, Sai."

"I am, too. And you were lying again."

Tenzou rumbled a sound he hoped didn't come across as too irritated. "Oh?"

"Sometimes you're with me, right here," Sai jerked on Tenzou's arm for emphasis. "And it's beautiful. Like when you told me what you hated about my painting. Or like when you caught me following you and we fought on the street. Like when you spoke of Jack and like when you just hugged me. That's you. And I love it." Sai stopped, eyes still frank and open, like he'd never been wounded or belittled or afraid for a single day of his life.

Tenzou knew better, and though he was faintly dizzy from exhaustion and caffeine overload, and though he was sweating enough to soak his shirt's armpits, he nodded. "Go on."

Sai worked for the words, and Tenzou waited through the false starts and halting stops. "Your voice changes when you lie. You get sadder. I can tell, and it's always when you talk about retreat. You were... honest when you told me to get away from you. But you were lying when you said you weren't the right shape for me. I'm not stupid. You saying you're not worthy is like telling me I am dumb. I don't like that. I took risks for you that I've never taken for anybody because when you're honest, you're different than anyone else, and I want that."

"How?" Tenzou interjected, the syllable a rasp from a very dry throat.

"What?" Sai asked, so tense he practically vibrated.

"Tell me more about how you envision this going, Sai. More about what it is, exactly, that you think you want."

In Tenzou's experience, most people, when faced with the overwhelming question of what they wanted out of life, a relationship, or even a single scene, floundered. Sometimes they grew almost angry, usually, Tenzou suspected, because they thought there was something inherently wrong with dictating their likes and dislikes. People feared judgment and being laughed at, and were terrified of a trap into which they could fall, be conned into confession, and then persecuted for their own stupidity for not seeing the trick.

Tenzou should know, after all. It had taken ages for Jack to drag the truth from Tenzou's guts, to get Tenzou to admit not only to liking the ideas Jack had for the bedroom or anywhere else they could build a rig, but to enjoying them. Getting off on them. Wanting them.

Sai's observations about Tenzou's honesty or lack thereof could almost echo the ones Jack had so many years ago. The parallels were creepy as fuck, to put it bluntly, and well worthy of an order to cease and desist for sanity's sake. Tenzou had come here tonight, he thought, to explain himself, to tell Sai that yes, Tenzou was interested and yes, he most certainly wanted, but that didn't make being boyfriends a good idea. Tenzou had just come to grips with his fears on trying again with someone new six hours ago, for Chrissakes. He needed time.

So, he'd thought to tell Sai they could start as friends, get to know one another, and when Sai added some years to catch up to Tenzou's experiences, then maybe something more would be possible. Tenzou could explain his sadistic tendencies later, when it was more appropriate and after he'd come to terms with wanting such things with someone other than Jack. It wasn't denial; it was smart. It was mature and reasonable. He knew without a doubt that he was fascinated and smitten and even awe-struck, and no small wonder.

But when Tenzou asked Sai -- the autistic artist boy who didn't know any better than to fall for the fucked-up authority figure -- what Sai wanted, and Sai didn't fumble or falter, but instantly relaxed instead, as though Tenzou had spoken the magic password that unlocked tranquility, the tiny voice in the rear of Tenzou's mind that he liked to ignore realized with unshakable resolve and no small amount of panic that Tenzou was also... doomed.

"I want to see you more," Sai began with feverish enthusiasm. "I want to touch you. I've never had anyone to touch, and I like it. Just holding your hand is amazing, and thinking about holding you arouses me. Gets me hard." Sai said this like Tenzou might need more clarification on what "arouse" actually meant. Tenzou refrained from saying that he, nor any part of him, needed the help at the moment, thanks.

"I want to go out places with you. I've never done that with someone I liked or wanted to touch. I want to try making out, mutual masturbation, blow jobs, rimming, and anal sex." Sai's eyes rolled heavenward, dreamy in their consideration. "In that order, I think. I want..." Sai's breath shook, and he licked his lips while staring at Tenzou's groin. "I want to see you come, and I want you to do the same to me. I want to draw you nude and have the lines and proportions be right. And..." Sai straightened, and Tenzou didn't think there was any way to prepare for whatever in the hell came next.

"You have experience with BDSM, and I want to benefit from it. Not just for my art, though that is a reason, and not just to prove Danzou wrong about how being intimate or vulnerable will be bad for me or the work." Tenzou choked on irrational rage, but Sai didn't seem to notice.

"I want it because it might be something that would shut me down for long enough to feel. Really feel. Not just add up things I've read or heard about in an equation and recite what I get. You already make me feel more than anyone else I've met, which is actually a fair number with all my shows. I talk to people. I know some of them. You're special. I trust you. That's important in the Scene, I know that. I've read everything I can about it, but doing it..." Sai shuddered and smiled, and it was one of the most incredible things Tenzou had ever witnessed. "I think it would be better with someone I want to touch, and with someone who knows a lot. I think it'd take edgier things to get me undone, and I'd like you to be my Dominant. Though, I admit, if you don't want that part because I'm not your preferred submissive type, then I want you to introduce me to someone who can fulfill those needs while we keep experimenting with lovemaking. Someone you trust, because my sensory panics are getting worse, and I think I need something soon, or it'll become too difficult to be around people." Sai blew a loud breath, settled on his heels, and blinked at Tenzou, head cocking with the birdlike quirk.

Tenzou sat stock still with jaw slack and dick half-hard and tried to find the ability to speak after being hit in the head repeatedly with a ten-ton crowbar of unabashed candor. It took a little while to gather wit and whim, and Sai was good enough to wait.

"So you've... you've thought about this, have you?" Tenzou finally managed to ask, in a breathy wheeze.

"Yes," Sai said, the line between his eyebrows forming with a small frown. "Pursuing you without knowing my cause wouldn't make any sense."

"Right, right," Tenzou agreed. He laughed, suddenly, helplessly, and with real mirth, and the image of Kakashi rolling around on the ground cackling the fool's heart out didn't help.

"What's funny?" Sai asked, smiling.

"Nothing," Tenzou said, waving and chortling.

"Something!"

"I'm sorry," Tenzou rubbed his eyes. "Oh, God, it's just that usually people aren't so forthright, and it's... refreshing. Terrifying, but refreshing."

"Oh." Sai pursed his lips. "And it's scary because it's a lot. But... you asked me what I wanted, and that's..."

"I did," Tenzou soothed, squeezing both of Sai's hands. "You did nothing wrong. I'm just... I'm going to need some time to think about all that."

"How much time?" Sai asked the question like there was a taxi arriving in three minutes and missing it would be rather inconvenient. "I thought you knew all this. You came here tonight."

"I did, yes, and--"

"I painted for you."

"I realize--"

"So how could you not expect me to want--"

"Sai," Tenzou barked. Sai shut his mouth and took no apparent offense. "I did suspect, I do understand, but I came here tonight to tell you we have to proceed slowly."

"Slowly?" Sai echoed, loudly.

"Sai," Tenzou warned.

"But it's been weeks already! I don't want--"

"Enough!" Tenzou called, and he grew aware of how many sets of eyes were watching with rapt amusement. He cursed under his breath and drew closer, yanking Sai nearer and practically hissing in the kid's face. "We go at my pace and as I say because we're dealing with emotions and complex situations that you don't understand, have no experience with, and I refuse to rush through anything and hurt you unintentionally."

"Oh," Sai whispered. "Okay."

"Oh-okay?" Tenzou verbally tripped over Sai's easy acceptance.

"Yes." Sai swallowed audibly, blushing beneath the red and yellow lights overhead. "You make sense, and..."

"And?"

"And you being honest and holding me like this is turning me on. I think I like force." The latter was said with a childlike innocence that made Tenzou want to beat his head against the table until he saw stars.

Releasing Sai, Tenzou squared his shoulders. He was too tired to continue this conversation much longer. He was numb with overload, resignation, and weary affection. It was getting light outside, Tenzou needed space and soon, but integrity would not allow him to leave Sai without addressing some of his concerns. Tenzou justcouldn't. "First, some ground rules. You listen without interrupting and memorize what I'm about to say." Sai sat upright in rapt attention, hands folding around the pen on top of the sketch of Tenzou.

"Good." Tenzou thought fast. "One: we go at the pace I set, no arguments. Two: you will see no one for Scene-related anything without my permission. Three: you will answer any questions I have and ask any that you have unless being directed to listen, only. Four: should you get into any trouble or need help or aid, you will now get in touch with me. And five: no more drawing on my property or throwing bricks through windows. If you need to talk, you are to call me on my cell phone. But not at all hours of the day or night unless it's an emergency. Six a.m. until eleven p.m. should suffice." Tenzou stopped, grunted, and hoped to anything that was fucking observing this bit of insanity that the rules covered a decent majority of issues. "Understood?" he asked, and Sai nodded, solemn despite rosy cheeks.

"Good." Tenzou grabbed his coffee, took a swig even though it was cold. The overwhelming need to act gripped him again, and his hand nearly crushed the paper cup. "You said you think you need to explore Scene sooner rather than later, yes?" Another sincere nod. "And you've read plenty." One more affirmative. "But I assume you've not experienced anything? Or seen anything done in person?" The answer this time was a negative.

"Well," Tenzou said, hoping he wouldn't regret all this later. Or even immediately after he spoke. "I think that gives me a starting point at least." He took several gulps of caffeine, sat down the cup, and had to gulp the lump rising in his throat. "While you were painting that mural for Neji in the middle of the night at Bliss, were you ever curious about what went on at Break?" Slowly, Sai nodded and an entirely different sort of smile, devious and delicious and definitely enough to make Tenzou's veins burble in the sweet sort of anticipation, cracked the cupid lips to show the hint of white teeth.

~*~
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Lessons in Living