Every Story Has A Beginning

"Uhhh I dunno," he said. "I think there's one about these two brothers who do it..." He glanced at his brother expectantly, hoping he might get the hint.

He wrinkled his nose.

"Gross, why would you want to sneak into that?" He sneered. "Besides, that sort of shit is too graphic for you; you're too young."

"But I'm only, like, two years younger than you!" he exclaimed. "You were gonna let me fuck some random bitch--how is a movie worse?"

Chase stood up, his temper flaring for a brief moment.

"Excuse me, but who's the one in charge around here?" He snapped, towering over James to show his dominance in the situation. "That's right; I am. You plan on questioning me again, little brother?"

He ducked his head immediately, ashamed. The last thing he wanted was to make his big brother angry.

"...That's not what I meant..."

Chase wrinkled his nose, sighing and sliding back into his seat.

"Sorry, but...uh." He looked kind of embarrassed himself. "A-anyway, I'm still the boss around here, so, uh, just do what I say. I know best, anyway!"

"Then what do you say?" he asked, inconspicuously, pushing his beer to the side. He had no clue how grown-ups drank that stuff; if it was a requirement, he'd rather remain a kid for forever. But impressing his brother was a priority, so he couldn't say anything about the taste. He wouldn't. He wanted Chase to like him.

"Let's, uh, go home and go to sleep early!" He said, smiling widely. He was tired of drinking, and now he just sort of wanted to go to bed and relax.

"...Can we sleep together?" he asked, playing with his beer bottle.

"Can we what." His mind jumped to the gutter, which was the last place it needed to be.

"...Sleep together," he repeated innocently. "I've been feeling lonely lately--you haven't been around for a while, so...I mean, it'd mean a lot." He glanced down at the table; maybe asking to sleep next to his brother wasn't cool anymore.

He swallowed and smiled nervously.

"...Of course." He said, feeling quite foolish for thinking his brother had meant anything else. "Let's head home then!"

He smiled.

"Okay! Which side of the bed do you want?"

He thought.

"Uuhhmm." He stood up and sauntered out of the bar. "The right side!"

And then James was totally abducted by Secret Agents.

-x-

[[whut when they hell are we skipping to womun]]

((IDK, do you want to rp when James was actually taken, or just when they meet again as adults?))

[[Prolly just when they meet again bcuz I am lazy.

So how exactly do they meet?]]

((Simple. They're sent to kill each other. OH, or even better, they have the same target--James is protecting him, Chase is killing him.))

[[Ooh I like the second one. Yu start bcuz you copped out]]

James Bishop sighed as the young ambassador went on and on about his experiences in Europe, frequently hinting at sexual encounters. It was a mind-numbingly boring conversation. Every once in a while, James would say something like "That's enough," or "Quiet, sir, I'm trying to protect you" but that only stemmed the constant chatter for a few minutes at best. In the end, he merely sighed and resigned himself to his fate.

Protecting this guy had seemed like a simple enough task; he had been chosen for his skill and agility, and the supposed assassins were likely little more than bumbling terrorists. James would be more than a match for them. He had tucked his long red hair into a ponytail so it was out of his eyes; he polished a handgun, glancing around every few minutes or so. He was ready for an attack; he just wished it would happen soon and end this agonizing monotony. His charge was the most mind-numbing conversationalist he had ever met.

Leopard frowned deeply. The bodyguard had such gorgeous red hair. Oh, how he loved red hair. It was too bad he had to kill them both. He didn't have to kill the redhead, but he knew he wouldn't just let him get away with killing the ambassador. Besides that, the tactic he had planned ensured the death of the ambassador, and probably the redhead, too. It all depended on whether or not he was a complete idiot.

He wore a suit, and his hair was slicked back into a neat, tight braid. He looked businessy, or at least, enough to get away with looking somewhat normal. He didn't have his normal face paint on, either. He loved it, but it didn't fit with his disguise. Not this time.

He held a briefcase, a worn one to avid suspicion, and checked his watch, at the perfect time to bump into ambassador. He apologized profusely.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going." He said, waving his hand. He picked up his brief case and continued to walk, to show how much of a hurry he was in.

Yes, perfect; he had planted the bomb on the ambassador, and soon, very soon, it would explode. Messy, but it sure made a hell of a nice scene, now didn't it?

James stopped the ambassador suddenly.

"Sir, don't move," he said quickly. "Keep your hands in the air." He carefully searched his jacket until he found what he had been searching for: a small, foreign object. Removing what looked like a pen from his pocket, he aimed it at the bomb and pressed a button; it made a pathetic fizzling noise. He gently placed it on the ground, looking around

"Sir, your assassin is in this room," he announced, scanning the crowd for someone suspicious.

Leopard swore to himself. So close. Plan B was about to be enacted. Once out of sight, he booked it up a long flight of stairs and began to set up his silenced sniper rifle on the ledge. He hated sniping, but it was his only good second option. Another bomb would be too obvious, unfortunately.

He also hated how long it took to set up sniper rifles, especially with the silencer. He rushed, trying not to be sloppy, but to also be fast.

"...Ahem," said James after a few minutes of standing behind Leopard. Though it had taken him a while to figure out what had happened, there was a reason he had been given this job.

"Stop what you're doing, or I'll shoot," he said, calmly aiming a gun at his opponent's back. "Who are you?"