The Not-So-Secret Thoughts Of A Bored Kourier
by Selena Ulrich

The one thing Y.T. cannot understand is why Hiro and Vitaly aren't fucking.

It's not a RPS thing - although she knows many Kouriers who'd get wet at the thought of their idol and his whatever-the-fuck-Hiro-is-to-Vitaly actually doing some of the stuff they write about, she's got more class than to milk her famous connections just for a cheap shot of fame. It's the fact that they'd look good together. Long rangy Eastern European form pressed against shorter, firmer Afro-Nipponese; stringy muscles moving with firm; pale Russian skin against the coffee and cream inheritance of Hiro's parentage...on dull days like these, sitting alongside Hiro in a CosaNostra pizzaria as he jacks himself into the Metaverse to confirm the quality of their latest intel, Y.T. wonders just why Hiro cannot see what everyone else can, and why the fuck he doesn't do something about it. Actually at first she wonders if she's sick having such thoughts about her colleague, but then she remembers she's fifteen years old and the only action available to her is Roadkill, so why the fuck shouldn't she fantasise a little?

She imagines what it must be like on those hot nights when Hito and Vitaly are cooped up together in that U-Store-It lockup they call home; Vitaly dressed in that fishnet vest and those tight black leathers he always wears on stage, Hiro wearing nothing but a khaki shirt and shorts combo as he practices with those damn Nipponese swords he's so proud of, the sweat running down those impressive cheekbones and well-muscled calves, pooling neatly to make discrete marks in the t-shirt at the small of his back, and other places. Maybe Vitaly looks up at his lover and smiles every so often; a secret and suggestive smile that also appreciates what a damn fine specimen of a man he's got here. Maybe once Hiro's done, he walks over and let's himself be pulled down onto the Russian musician, and the two of them spend the rest of the night licking, exploring, and fucking gently away deep inside each other. Or maybe Vitaly just gets bored and decides 'fuck it'; walks over to Hiro and grabs him roughly, unafraid of the weapons Hiro is carrying because he knows his lover could never hurt him, and besides, Vitaly is the top in this relationship baby, and the way Hiro moans as Vitaly's tongue invades his mouth just serves to further prove that.

The sound of Hiro's phone interrupts her thoughts and she sighs slightly as he pulls himself out of the Metaverse long enough to answer it. There are only two problems with the little fantasy scenarios she's just been dreaming up. First there's the whatever-the-fuck-Hiro-is-to-Vitaly status that she brought up earlier - she knows the two are roomies and Hiro helps get the Chernobyls gigs, but like a lot of stupid people she knows over twenty, the two of them have never bothered to formalise their relationship. The other problem is that Hiro insists he's straight. Every time they meet. Even when she doesn't bother bringing the subject up. And even if she ignores the screaming obvious fact that symbolises, she's amazed Hiro hasn't accepted what everyone else can see. They're close, they spend days together in a 20-by-30 concrete unit without seeing anyone else - Y.T. knows if she was in that position she'd be ready to jump the first individual she met, and she's a teenaged girl! Plus, there's the intriguing detail that Y.T. swears she's walked in on them just after Hiro's been given Vitaly a blowjob, or why else would he be getting up off his knees with that guilty look on his face whilst muttering some lame excuse about meditation or traversing the Metaverse? But no, Hiro still insists that he's straight; even talks occasionally about a woman called Juanita, even though Y.T. knows that was so long ago as to be hardly creditable. She sighs again and takes another slurp of her Cola.

"Hey, good news!" Hiro is off the phone now, beaming so widely you'd think he was on something. "The intel check out. You and I are fully paid up for the next two weeks."

"Great," mutters Y.T. "So that was a buyer you were talking to just now?"

"Uh, no, that was Vitaly," Hiro replies, and his blush is so deep that if Y.T. wasn't in a pissy mood now, she'd be commenting. "The buyer approached me earlier while I was verifying the stuff. We've done good."

Y.T. doesn't respond to that, and this time even Hiro notices her mood.

"Hey, what's up?" he frowns at her. "We just hit the target, shouldn't you be at least smiling a little?"

She wonders whether she should tell him what's ticking her off, but decides against it; this particular subject has caused enough friction between Hiro and Y.T. before that she doesn't want to add to her bad mood by bringing it up again. So she tells some half-truths about being worried about her Mom's job, and Hiro nods sagely, and there are a few last moments of sympathetic noises and general chat, and then the two of them go their separate ways - she to poon herself a ride back home and he to go back to his unit, where he and Vitaly will most definitely not be jerking each other off before snuggling up together for the night.

Except in the head of Y.T. of course. But hey, a girl's got to have a little fun now and again, right?


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