PSOH 'Girl, Interrupted'

"Don't even start, D," Leon was firm.

He had no time for the Count's mockery right now. There was a redhead standing outside the Shop, tall and leggy, and clad in what had to be the tiniest lime-green micro-mini skirt he'd ever seen, in all his born days. The four-inch lizardskin black spike heels and the gauzy over-blouse that showcased that lacy emerald-hued camisole draping invitingly beneath…oh, yeah! Well, that and the bounteous attributes this collection of cloth scraps and tatters showed off completed the most eye-catching female attire Leon had had the pleasure of feasting his baby blues on in a very long time.

The ex-detective went silent in awe, holding his breath, nearly; admiring it all from top to pert bottom and well aware of the tightening in his groin. Drool-fucking-worthy, that girl. And he was a man, no doubt about it—a redblooded man, with a healthy appetite.

The redheaded girl was obviously dithering over whether she should enter the Count's Shop, eyeing askance the ornate door and the windows dripping palm leaves, the Count's assortment of chattering capuchins and various exotic perching birds. Leon willed her to stroll right on in, under his breath. He stared at the door so fiercely, the brass knob nearly caught fire.

"Come on, baby. Do it. Do it now."

He'd not be too upset to be offered a closer look at that get-up. Did a man good, mini-skirts and camis-and real red hair. But then there went that fussbudget Count D, gliding right over and peering from behind Leon's shoulder with some disdain at the fetching redhead. He raised his expressive eyebrows and hissed nastily in Leon's ear.

"…But she's rather out-of-place here, don't you think, Detective? That outfit seems more suited for Kabukicho District than Neo Chinatown. Most outré. "

"Eh?"

"So trashy, really, those clothes of hers. Far too revealing. One should always keep a little mystery about one – it makes one a far better lover."

"You don't say."

...There was a pause. Just a little one, but Leon was canny enough now to feel the air currents shift when D took a step; there was no fucking way he didn't know what to watch for when D was...feeling threatened. Or what he had to do, right after.

"But, indeed, I do, Detective," the Count asserted firmly, twitching his lips into a little smirk. "Do you not agree? She has left very little to the imagination, that woman."

Clearly, Leon figured, nodding to himself and feeling very wise, Count D was pissed off. Jealous, even. Over him.

He swallowed a pleased snort, setting aside his lover's petty sally into feline bitchiness as kinda' sorta' complimentary...but he didn't turn his eyes away from the dilly-dallying redhead for a second. He'd pay the price after if he had to – that girl was just too fine. He had to look—had to-had to feast his eyes. Redheads weren't exactly abundant here in Neo Chinatown, Tokyo. Not unless they were bottled, and he'd bet his effing bippy this one wasn't.

Sudden warmth pressed against his back, and an alluring scent trickled into his nose, enveloping him. White fingers tipped in rose-red lacquer crept round his waist, clinging ever so lightly. It wouldn't take much to shrug them off, Leon knew. The Count, even if he might be a bit green-eyed and snaggly-toothed at the moment, was never obvious. Not like some.

"Is that woman your ideal of beauty, Detective? Do you desire her form so much? I will allow...her face is not so ill"

The girl was disregarded immediately, for no sane man would ever allow his beloved to sound that forlorn.

Leon whirled away from the Shop's windows, wrapping tight arms 'round his quite possibly dispirited Count, and laughed right out loud in his amazement.

"Hah! As if! Come on, you asshole – what do you think?"

He pressed closer; taking advantage, for Count D was usually pretty business-like during 'office hours' and he rarely got a chance to fool around and, by god, right now he wanted to. He'd been primed.

"Would I ever give this up for guaranteed red cunt hair? I don't think so!" He grabbed D's pointy chin between thumb and forefinger, pinching it. "Jeez! What? Do I look that stupid, D? Do I?"

His interest was returned seven-fold; D breathing out the wispiest of satisfied sighs when Leon's hungry lips trailed down his throat, seeking the hollow that graced it. He shoving his narrow hips forward invitingly, one pale leg rising up the ex-detective's denim-clad leg in a slow but very clear demonstration of his willingness to find out for himself.

But Leon was by no means stupid. He knew a good thing when he had it. And he did finally have it-and wasn't letting go.

He pulled back just a bit, so as to admire D's long dressy silk thing, which had a lovely set of slits up either side but was buttoned up real tight, all the way from top and bottom. Lots of tiny cloth-covered buttons; yards and yards of expensive fabric. Nearly all that pale, creamy skin was concealed beneath it—except of course for the bared thigh tensed at Leon's waist, waiting, and the shapely calf and long elegant foot extending below that.

D's toes flexed as Leon watched him intently, taking in every small detail; they were painted as scarlet as his lips—and Leon licked his own, just thinking about them. Droolworthy didn't even begin to describe it—no. No, it didn't. D, that was.

"Well, Detective…" D purred, "perhaps not. Though I do wonder, at times."

"Aw, come on, D," Leon said again, jiggling his lover just a bit to bring him closer and grinning like a fool. "You can make me forget all about her, you know?" He smiled winningly at the one person he wanted to look at every single day. "Any time. Um…wanna try? Now, I mean?"

The erection Leon was boasting wasn't inspired by a single thing other than hair black as midnight, weird-as-all-hell eyes-one gold and one purple-way too much fucking girly Chinese garb and a very sly, knowing smile. Girl, what girl? Was there a girl out there? Who the fuck cared about girls, anyway?

The one hesitating outside the Shop eventually shook her bounteous red tresses and wandered off in her teetering heels, unaware. Leon took no notice, nor could he have cared less. He grinned at D instead, doing his best to appear winsome. And inviting. And sexy...'cause he wanted some, and he wanted it from only one person.

"D?"

"Mmm," the Count considered, cocking his sharp, sharp chin so the hidden dimple showed. "So I can, it seems. Lock that door, will you?"