The Innocent (A 'Finder' Fanfiction)

Shadow of Pluto - 14 - Mikhail

There was a tap on the door, short and loud. Then silence. He did not answer at once. On the table in front of him lay his suitcase. It was a small one he usually took with him if he was traveling for not longer than a week, and right now, he was sorting back into it the few items he had taken out in the less than 24 hours he had been here.

Holding one of his shirts, he stared at the door, waiting. There was no call from the other side, nor was it opened.

After a few moments, there was another tap, loud and short again.

"Yeah!", he gnarled, and finally the door was pushed open.

It was Fei Long – not that he had expected anybody else. Right away, he returned to packing his belongings, while the Chinese man stepped up to him.

"What are you doing?", he asked plainly and quietly.

"I'm leaving", Mikhail answered, his voice harsh, his eyes fixed on that shirt he tried to rub any wrinkles out with his fingers.

"Why?", the next stupid question. Fei Long looked up at him from a step away with a puzzled look.

Mikhail pushed his breath out through his nostrils in fury.

"Are you angry?", and another question.

"Yes, I am angry!", he answered through gritted teeth, not looking at the other.

"Good", Fei Long retorted. His finger suddenly reached for the top buttons of Mikhail's shirt. The Russian flinched, then turned to the other.

There was a dark spark in the smaller man's eyes. Just like the one which had been there months ago in a bar in Hong Kong. So, that was what the Chinese had come for!

Mikhail spun aside and grabbed the other's throat with one hand, gripping hard right away, feeling muscles and sinews straining. Fei Long choked and seized his arm, but right now, he needed to do more than that to get those fingers off his neck.

There was a burst of sharp, red evilness flaming in Mikhail's chest, and all he wanted to do presently was hurt. He dragged the smaller man some steps forward, while he tossed his suitcase away. Then he pushed Fei Long backwards against and half onto the table, leaning in until his teeth were inches from tearing into the other's skin.

"Why am I here?", he hissed at his prey and felt his own hot breath reflected on Fei Long's face. "To drive your car? To fuck you when you're bored? To make Asami jealous? Or his brother?"

A frail noise managed to flee from Fei Long's throat, but that was all. His amethyst eyes staring up into Mikhail's were widened and started to redden, his face was turning pale, while he still tried to rip that large hand of his throat. But suddenly, he stopped with all that, and his fingers just rested on the other's arm.

'Just a bit longer', Mikhail knew ... 'just a bit. And I will never feel so hurt ever again!'

He let go with a leap backwards and shoved his hands in front of his face.

"Why the fuck am I here?", he hissed again. He did not expect an answer, and instead listened to how hard the other fought for breath for about a minute. Fei Long was supposed to just leave, then Mikhail would get into the car, would get back to the airport, find himself some connecting flight back to Hong Kong ... and–

"I am sorry", Fei Long spoke, his voice a straining croak.

"I never made you any promises, did I?", he added after a while. With a laugh that was more a grunt, Mikhail looked up. The Chinese still half sat on the table. His hands were clutched around the curve of the tabletop, as if he needed the support to remain there.