[Corrigan smiles, a slow, predatory smile. A nice man doesn't do things like pick up teenagers in park and take them somewhere to fuck them senseless. A nice man doesn't flirt with said teenagers in seedy clubs either. It goes without saying that Corrigan is not a nice man.

But he's careful, all the same. He's using Junpei as much as he's being used, for sex, for pleasure. But Corrigan is a businessman and he's always angling for the best deal. A long-term investment is always preferable to a one-time thing.

So he settles back against the smooth, plush seat, spreads his hands out on Junpei's hips, almost able to reach all the way around his waist.] Yeah? Like this, you in my lap? Or do you want to be on your back, me on top? Or hands and knees, arching your back for me?

[He leans up, smelling of cloves and expensive cologne, grazes his lips over the pulse pounding in the boy's throat.] I think you'd look good on your knees.