Restart: Seagull and Crow Meet Once Again

Crow exhaled smoke from his mouth as he sat on the large couch in the dark red room. He waited patiently as a man was brought to the room. He dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his boot.

"Hello," he said, smiling at the man across from him. "You must be the other assassin. Have you been filled in? About our target and such? Well, either way, we'll be headed to the specified city soon. We're partners, or so I've been told."

He stood up, smiling insincerely. "I'm Crow."

The young man reached for his gun. He barely looked sixteen; the action seemed juvenile.

"I don't work with fucking no one. Who the fuck're you?" he demanded calmly with all the self-importance of a middle-aged CEO. He tapped his white sneaker on the red carpet, glaring at the poser wearing all-black.

"Neither do I. Normally," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "This is no normal job. Takes two people."

He decided to sit back down and light up again.

"Plane's about to take off. Better sit down," he suggested, blowing smoke from his mouth.

He glared at him.

"Gimme a fucking cigar and maybe I'll listen to you, fuckass. I don't have a reason to obey your bitch orders."

Crow chuckled to himself.

"If you say so," he replied, shrugging as the plane took off.

Seagull slid and tripped into a seat, quickly flipping his hair over his shoulder in an attempt to look cool.

"Whatever. I'm not staying--this isn't what I signed up for. I'm fucking going home. There's nothing worse than a lying bitch for a client."

"How old are you?" Crow wondered, blowing smoke into his face.

"Thirty," he replied with a straight face. "The fuck's it matter to you, pretty boy? Go fuck yourself." He cracked his knuckles obnoxiously.

He laughed heartily.

"It's going to be a long plane ride, I have no doubts I'll need to do that at one point or another."

"...Come again?" he said, genuinely caught off guard. "Did you honestly just...?"

"Hm?" Crow asked, putting out his cigarette. "It's unhealthy to let it all build up."

He groaned loudly and immaturely.

"Fucking disgusting! How fucking old do you think I am, anyway? Fucking stuck on a plane with some pedo asshole, of course. Whoever set this up is gonna be fucked seven ways to Sunday." He motioned his finger across his throat.

"Dead, with all the goddamn fish and shit."

"You sound like rather the sex fiend yourself," Crow teased, grinning. "Care to help me out?"

Seagull, who had pulled out his phone to make a call, chucked it at the man in black instead.

"Fuck you, shithead! Fuckin' pedos belong behind bars. Fuckin' dammit!"

Crow barely missed being hit by the phone, having been completely taken off guard. He picked up the phone and held it out to Seagull.

"You get it back if you fuck me."

"I'll take it back after I fuck you up," he spat, walking over to Crow and holding his hand out. "Mess up your fucking pretty face."

"Oh, well, those things are two in the same," Crow replied, licking his teeth.

"You wanna go?" he threatened, clenching his hand into a fist. "I'll kick your ass fucking any day. Russian mafia ain't nothin' to fuck with!"

"Russian mafia, eh?" Crow asked excitedly, his smile widening. "I've only had dealings with them once, and it thoroughly pleasurable."

"Give me the fucking phone," he said. "I fucking mean it."

"Mit? Maya?" Crow hummed to himself. "Something like that. He was delicious in bed. Rough. It was amazing. You look too scrawny for my tastes."

"Maya isn't a man's name, you stupid fuck," he spat. "This is your last chance--give me my phone. I need to make a call."

"We're in the air, who could you possibly be calling?" Crow asked, laughing. "But really, give me a blowjob for it."

Seagull jumped at Crow, taking a swing at his face.

Crow chucked the phone across the room, grabbing Seagull by his pants and forcing him into his lap, grinning like a wild animal who had just trapped his prey.

After all, while he had been doing that, he had pulled a knife and shoved it up against Seagull's inner thigh, right by his femoral.