Xander slammed the door shut behind him, ignoring the shout that came from upstairs as he stomped down into his basement apartment. The last thing he needed was another argument today. He should have just given in to the urge to stay in bed this morning. The end would have been the same but at least he’d have been in a better mood about it.

“Welcome home, Sunshine.”

Xander glared at the bleached parasite on his couch, a walking aggravation in leather that had been dumped on him without more than a word of warning. He was supposed to take care of Spike whether he wanted to or not, regardless of the fact that he could barely keep himself fed. He’d been charged with the dubious please of being Spike’s keeper, watching the vampire to make sure he didn’t get into any trouble. Not that it was hard to keep an eye on the vampire since he never left, at least not anytime Xander was home. No, the problem was that with Spike there then he had to behave. The only privacy he got was in the bathroom and even then he knew Spike was on the other side of the thin door, probably able to hear everything he did with that keen vampiric hearing.

“Leave me alone, Spike,” he groused, keeping his eyes locked in front of him as he headed for the small bed tossed in the corner of his apartment. He grabbed the cleanest looking pair of pajama pants off the floor and turned towards the bathroom.

Better not to look, to pretend Spike wasn’t here, because after the day he’d had he really couldn’t deal with the extra aggravation. He was sure he’d do or say something that would end up bad, all because he stupidly wanted something he knew he couldn’t have. Hell, he shouldn’t even want it but he did because he was just weird like that, which in a way fit in with the rest of the uber-pathetic weirdness that was his life. Maybe if Spike had a glimmer of interest in him it wouldn’t be so pathetic but he was more than certain that the blonde vampire had absolutely no interest in him. Xander was just a walking happy meal that supplied Spike with cable.

Said vampire had apparently had lost the ability to comprehend the English language because he continued chatting, though his gaze remained fixed on the glowing television in front of him. “You’re home early.”

“I hadn’t noticed. Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious.” Xander sniped as he slammed the bathroom door behind him. He was being unnecessarily rude, he knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to care too much about it.

Xander stared at the shower for a long moment before deciding he was too tired for it. He hadn’t been at work long enough to pick up the usual stench of pizza so he could get away with it for now. Shucking off his clothes, he slipped into the sweat pants and brushed his teeth. He left the dirty, pizza-stained clothes on the floor, too tired and annoyed with himself to bother with more than that.

Spike was waiting outside the bathroom with a slight frown on his face, watching Xander wordlessly as he brushed past. Xander kept his eyes averted, focusing instead on the bed on the opposite side of the room. He flipped off the TV as he crossed the basement.

“Oi, I was watching that.”

Xander really couldn’t care. He flopped onto the bed and rolled so that his back was to Spike. “I’m going to bed,” he announced unnecessarily, pulling the covers over his head. The bed was hard and lumpy. Tired as he was, sleep seemed a long time in coming.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Spike’s voice was louder, closer. Xander could almost feel him storm over to the bed.

He lifted the blankets off his head long enough to snipe back. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not comprehend, fangless? All that bleach finally seep into your brain and erode your understanding of the English language?”

The covers were yanked off him just as he was about to pull them back up and he rolled over to face Spike, putting all the heat he could muster into a glare. “Leave. Me. Alone.”

Spike watched him for a moment with an unreadable expression before his face shifted into a mocking smile. “You got fired.” Spike was a cat who had just gotten the cream.

“Fuck off, Spike.” If his eyes could shoot fire, Spike would be ash by now.

“Heh, so that’s what’s got your panties in a knot. Poor little dough-boy added yet another failure to the pitiful excuse of his life.”

They both knew Spike had gone too far. Spike was ready for him when Xander surged off the bed, catching his punch easily and reversing Xander’s momentum. He fell on the bed and pushed up again, ready to try again even if it was a loosing battle. Spike was ready for him, pinning him down before he even left the bed. Xander struggled, desperately fighting an immovable object.

“Oi.”

Xander ignored Spike and continued to fight even though he was only bruising himself. Thin hands tightened their grip, grinding the bones of his wrists together painfully. He might have cried out, if pain hadn’t been so familiar to him.

“Oi!” Spike shouted in his face, startling him enough that he stilled, staring up at Spike as he panted for breath.

“Done?” Spike’s voice was devoid of emotion, his eyes blank. Xander thought he saw a hint of concern hiding in the back of blue eyes but he knew he was deluding himself.

Xander nodded. Spike’s grip loosened. He waited until he felt Spike ease off before he pushed up again, throwing the vampire off of him. His feet touched the floor but that was as far as he got before Spike grabbed his shoulder, throwing him back onto the bed. He bounced, his head smacking against the wall hard enough to stun him. By the time he gathered enough wits to move, Spike had him firmly pinned again. Xander tried the relaxing trick again but Spike didn’t ease off.

“Get off me,” he growled.

“No.” Spike shot back.

“Yes!” He heaved with his hips, bucking Spike slightly but all he got for his efforts was a knee in his stomach.

“Xander!” Spike barked the command, snapping into game face with fangs bared and he stilled, instinctive fear bringing his rage up short in the face of a snarling vampire.

“You got fired?”

Xander glared. “I don’t want to talk about it Spike, now get off me.”

“Not until you answer the question.”

“Why, so you can mock me about it? That gonna give you some cheap thrill?” Xander snarled, rage rising up at him when he thought about how Spike could take something so important to him and turn it into a pitiful joke. “Well, sure, Spike. I’m feeling generous. Might as well give you a few good laughs. It’s what I’m good at, right?” It was all he was good at apparently. “Yeah, I got fired. If you’d been paying attention you would already have known that but I guess you only pay attention to the flashing pictures on the TV.”

Spike growled, the sound as low and dangerous as anything Xander had ever heard. If he had any sense in him, Xander would have known to shut up. He’d gone too far. But shutting up was one of the many things Xander failed at.

The expected joking never came, but Xander just figured Spike was waiting to rub it in later, possibly in front of the entire gang. “What’d you do this time?”

“I didn’t do anything!” He shouted. A pale hand pressed over his mouth, stifling the angry tirade that threatened to pour out. He lashed out with his free hand instead, shoving hard against Spike’s shoulder. The vampire rocked slightly, his hand moving from Xander’s mouth to cuff him on the side of the head before pinning him again.

“That was stupid, boy,” Spike snarled.

“My whole life is stupid, in case you hadn’t noticed, fangless. Why stop now?” Anger welled up again, simmering up to boil under his skin. He was mad at Spike for being an ass, but most of his anger was directed at himself. No matter what he did, how hard he tried, he was bound to fail. His lot in life was that of a loser and he played the role well.

“It doesn’t have to be.” The words startled him enough to relax partially against the bed. Spike was just waiting to tease him, he told himself, and he gathered his anger as a shield. He’d been hurt enough today, hurt enough in his life. It needed to stop.

“Well it is, Spike. I’m a loser. You’re a loser by association. I’ve got this whole loser vibe, it taints everything I touch.”

“That ain’t it.”

“It is!” Xander shouted, straining up against the hands that pinned him. Sometime during their snarling Spike had shifted back to his human face but there were faint ridges visible along his brow, as if he was ready to shift back at a moment’s notice.

“It bloody ain’t, moron,” Spike retorted calmly. “You’re setting yourself up to fail, that’s what this is. Bet that whole bloody thing at the pizza place today was someone else’s fault, wasn’t it?”

Xander glared but didn’t retort, the humiliation of the day’s events still burning through him. Embarrassment was nothing new to him, his life was a long string of it, but today stood somewhere near the top of the worst days of his life, second only to that time he’d been courted by a slime demon that thought it a great idea to whisk Xander off to his slimy lair. At least this time, he didn’t have the entire gang to laugh at him. Instead he just got the full attention of the worst of his semi-friends.

“So you play the white knight and cover for one of the sorry lot you call coworkers, or were you just the scapegoat this time?”

“My coworkers are decent people,” Xander shot back. They were. For the most part. Sometimes. Not when they left him hanging out in the spotlight though, or when they shrank away and let Xander take the fall for something that wasn’t even his doing.

“So it’s the latter then. What happen, you lose your spine somewhere between here and work?”

“Are you calling me a coward?” Xander felt rage boiling in his stomach and he shoved up, not that it did much good against vampiric strength.

“I am, whelp. Spine’s are good for more than just keeping your back straight, ya know?”

“I have a spine,” he shouted.

“Then what’s bloody wrong with it?” Spike shouted back, matching him rage for rage. “How about pulling it out and using it on one of your own kind? You’ve got the balls to face down Master vampires but you can’t even talk back to some weak little humans?”

“There’s more to it than that,” Xander growled but with less confidence this time.

“Yeah?” Spike snapped. “Not the way I see it.”

“That’s the problem!” He was back to shouting again. “You don’t see things! Anything. It’s two different worlds out there, demons and people. You can’t go barging through and hitting things in the people world. It’s not that simple, but you don’t know that ’cause you don’t see anything.”

“I see you.”

One simple statement was all it took to drain the fight out of him. The anger fled him and try as he might he couldn’t dredge it up. He stared up at emotionless eyes with envy, wishing he could feel that way. Instead he felt tired and drained, weak and pathetic and as worthless as a wooden nickel at the arcade.

“You don’t see me,” he responded flatly.

“I do.” Xander scoffed but Spike continued to talk over him. “I see you get up at ungodly hours of the morning to go to a job you hate where people ignore you and treat you like garbage. I see you come back here to take shit from two people whose only contribution to your life was the conception of it. I see you scrape together all your pennies to fight out a half decent life for yourself only to let your bum parents take it from you, or to have you squander it feeling sorry for some poor bloke on the street that’s hit a hard spot and is too stupid to pick himself up out of it. I see you waste away your life in mediocrity and you don’t do a damn thing about it.”

Xander blinked, not sure quite what to say in his own defense.

“I’ve also seen you fight against odds wiser men would have backed away from and win,” Spike continued with a smirk. “I’ve seen you save lives, and hold your own once in a rare while in a fight. I’ve seen you come up with ideas that have saved us all and I’ve seen you loyally stand by your friends. You’re not a loser, Xander, so don’t make yourself out to be.”

Xander tried to look away but Spike forced him back to face him. The hands holding him down had fallen away sometime during Spike’s tirade but Xander had lost the will to escape.

“Stop making yourself fail.”

Xander opened his mouth to protest, to say that it wasn’t his fault, but then he found something else occupying that space, something cold and wet and not at all unwelcome.

He was too surprised to do anything but lay there for the first kiss. Then Spike moved away and he was fairly certain that his loser-self whined pitifully at the parting.

The second kiss went better. His mind pulled itself out of shock enough for him to kiss back, and he felt a sharp pang of regret as Spike pulled away. The regret washed away when he realized Spike wasn’t moving, only shifting, rolling his shoulders until the vampire’s shirt fell away.

Then Spike was kissing him again and Xander let him, even going so far as to initiate a few kisses on his own. The way he figured, Spike already had enough on him to damage him for the rest of his life, he might as well throw the rest of himself in, all or nothing. The all part wasn’t that difficult a feat considering he had a very handsome vampire draped across him. Hard would have been pushing away from someone who seemed for a moment to understand him. Hard would have been telling Spike to stop.

Cold hands explored him, roving far and wide across Xander’s exposed skin before they settled against the waistband of his pants. With far more gentleness than Xander had ever expected the vampire capable of, Spike divested Xander of his meager clothing.

He thought he should be nervous, get all flustered and bothered because of what they were doing, but the way Spike looked at him melted all that away and he was left lying on the sheets with a firm sense of disbelief and a growing want. That want was currently making itself well known in the press between their bodies, a similar need pressing down against Xander’s thigh and he knew there was at least something real between them. Even if the distant concepts of love and connection were just a figment of Xander’s imagination he could hold onto the proof of the physical need. Even losers were sometimes wanted.

Neither of them spoke but somehow they worked together enough to get Spike out of his pants. They reached down at the same time, a cool hand engulfing Xander while his own sought out the vampire’s erection. His breath came in loud puffs during the fleeting moments when he was allowed to breath, Spike’s mouth asserting dominance over Xander’s body. The vampire pressed hard down on him, stealing his breath away as the vampire’s hand gripped him firmly around the center. Xander thrust his hips up into the strong grip, moaning wantonly into Spike’s mouth. Closing his eyes, he let sensation overwhelm him, almost forgetting to keep up the pace on Spike’s cock. If need was all he could have then he’d take that meager scrap of affection and be content with it.

He’d never touched another guy like this before, at least not with the same meaning. There’d been some boyhood touching with his friend Jesse but it had never been quite so… enthralling. That was mere curiosity. This was like touching himself only with more friction, more heat. The only coherent part of his brain told him it was odd for a vampire to generate heat but he wasn’t worried about logic at this moment. He was worried about pleasure, though his mind still dreamed up fantasies of understanding and affection.

Spike moved, rubbing and purring like a giant furless blood-sucking cat. His mouth released Xander’s to nip at the side of his throat, nothing painful but enough to remind him that this cat had very large teeth. The thought that Spike had his teeth so close to Xander’s neck should have scared him, reminded him of the fact that Spike could hurt him, that he was essentially living with a killer that was tamed by whim only, but instead it, like the firm weight of a body ten times stronger than his own pressing down on him, was oddly comforting. It was protection, the first true protection anyone had ever offered him. He knew by morning that feeling would be gone but for now he reveled in the thought of being safe and loved, even if it was an illusion.

“You’re thinking too much.” Spike growled the words in his ear before squeezing tightly on Xander’s length, drawing his hand up Xander with a long, firm stroke.

Xander shouted, a wordless cry bouncing off the ceiling of the basement. The world went blind before his eyes as milky liquid shot out over Spike’s hand. Spike gave him a fleeting second’s rest before pulling their hands away. He brought Xander’s legs up to wrap around Spike’s waist and thrust, rocking their bodies together in a dry slide of flesh on flesh. Spike’s still hard cock brushed against his own fading erection and Spike grunted, his hands squeezing tight into Xander’s hips. There’d be bruises there, just a few out of the many he’d acquired this night but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. Xander panted, envious of Spike’s lack of breath as the vampire suddenly tensed, slamming their hips together hard as he came on Xander’s stomach.

An era passed in the fleeting stillness of the room, both of their bodies poised and taunt. Then Spike lowered himself down, sinking Xander deeper into the mattress and for all visible purposes ready to sleep.

“Spike?” Xander pushed half-heartedly at the still figure on top of him.

Spike didn’t move.

With a sigh Xander resigned himself to a morning full of pins and needles as he woke up with limbs that had gone numb overnight. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being a loser, if this was what it got him.

Sora woke to a loud pounding on his door. Glancing blearily across the room, he saw Sunao rising as well. The pounding moved on, echoing down the hall. Whoever had been pounding was gone by the time Sora made it to the door, similar sleepy heads popping out from every door along the hall. A large blue spot to his left caught his attention and Sora turned his head to blink at the poster on his door. He yawned, his jaw cracking slightly as he opened his mouth. With a lazy stretch, Sora yanked the poster off the door. He could see others along the hall doing the same with similar posters on their doors.

“What’s it say?” Sunao asked quietly from his bed.

“Attention dorm residents,” Sora read aloud, kicking the door shut behind him. “Today has officially been declared Virgin Day. In honor of the day we ask everyone to refrain from having sexual…” Sora cut himself off with a snap, crumpling the blue flier and tossing it in the garbage. “It’s just one of Matsuri’s stupid gimmicks,” Sora finished as he fell face first onto his bed. “Nothing we need to worry about.”

“Yoru.”

Sora turned his head to the side at the strange voice, his eyes taking in the strange form of a long brown-haired boy before the world suddenly shifted.

Yoru smirked, rising off the bed to pull the crumpled piece of paper out of the garbage can. He unfolded the piece of paper, snorting as he read the contents. “This is stupid.”

Ran sidled up to him, taking the paper from Yoru and tossing it back in the garbage can. “Feel like breaking the rules?” Ran asked as he rubbed himself up Yoru’s side.

A wide grin split across Yoru’s face and he slipped an arm around his slender lover. “I think I could be persuaded to.”

He pulled Ran back with him to Sora’s bed, eager hands divesting both of them of their clothing. The fabric was tossed away, falling in an ungraceful heap in the center of the room. Yoru moved back on the bed, pulling Ran with him. Ran straddled him, one knee on either side of Yoru’s hips as he leaned forward, claiming Yoru’s lips in an ardent kiss.

“This good enough persuasion?” Ran whispered into his mouth. He glanced up, eyes dancing with fire as Ran pressed his hips down into Yoru’s.

“Good enough,” Yoru agreed. His lips traveled up Ran’s bare shoulder, a line of kisses fluttering along Ran’s skin. When he reached the juncture where shoulder met neck, he bit down, eliciting a loud moan of pleasure from his lover.

“Please,” Ran whimpered, his hips rolling impatiently against Yoru’s pelvis.

Yoru smiled and ran his hands low on Ran’s hips, reaching back to press against his lover’s opening. “Do you want it?” He teased, enjoying the whimper of frustration Ran gave him.

“Yes!” Ran tried to press back, to force Yoru inside, but he moved his hand away. Reaching down into the crack between bed and wall, he pulled a thin tube from its hiding spot. Sora wasn’t even aware that the tube was there, which served Yoru’s purposes just fine.

Ran took the tube from him, bouncing slightly on his knees as he rubbed the slippery gel over Yoru’s member. “Please,” he asked again, his large eyes begging.

“You ready?” Yoru asked with a smile. An impatient nod answered him and he grinned wider, lifting Ran by the hips and placing the slender man on top of his erection. He pushed down with a steady force, loving the way Ran’s eyes rolled back with pleasure as he impaled. Warm tightness surrounded him as Ran sank on top of him, his chest fluttering with tiny pants. When Ran’s hips hit his own he bounced, thrusting himself up in a sudden jolt. A loud cry jerked from Ran’s lips, his hands finding their way to Yoru’s shoulders and tightening there, bracing himself.

Ran helped him as he lifted the slender man up by his hips, pulling up until he was almost completely out of Ran and then letting go, letting gravity pull Ran back down to him. It only took a few of these slow slides before Ran lost patience with him. He shoved Yoru’s hands away, frowning as Yoru chuckled. Gripping Yoru’s shoulders tightly, Ran moved himself, pulling himself up and slamming down as hard as his muscles would allow. They both moaned, pleasure building inside Ran’s frantic pace. Desperate lips sought his own and Yoru accepted the kiss, tasting Ran’s needy cries and taking sympathy of the erratic friction.

He rose, lifting Ran off the bed, and then rolled. Ran landed beneath him, crying out as the landing forced Yoru deep inside of him. Taking hold of Ran’s hips, Yoru took control. His thrusts lifted Ran off the bed, driving hard and fast into the welcoming flesh. They moved for what felt like an eternity, passion forcing them together as they fumbled for completion. Ran’s erection dragged along his chest as he moved, a thin wet line expanding rapidly on his chest until Ran gave in with a loud shout, spilling warm seed between them. The heat around him clenched tight and Yoru followed suit, cumming into the cavern of Ran’s body.

As soon as his breath evened, Yoru pulled away, rolling to the side to fold Ran into his arms. Ran snuggled close happily, his breath already evening out into the calm embrace of sleep. With a satisfied smirk plasterd across his face, Yoru followed suit.

*****

Sora was woken a second time that morning by a loud pounding on the door, though this time it was followed by the appearance of a blonde head. He blinked his eyes open, feeling surprisingly relaxed this morning and supremely content. Matsuri’s eyes widened and he pointed at Sora before crying out in dismay. “It’s Virgin Day!”

The words didn’t make much sense to Sora’s sleep addled brain. He remembered something about the holiday earlier this morning but he couldn’t see what Matsuri had to get upset with him about. He hadn’t had sex.

“Go away Matsuri.” Sora recognized Sunao’s voice but it came from surprisingly close. The words were followed by a movement in Sora’s bed as something warm and soft snuggled closer to him.

Sora looked down with a growing sense of fascination and horror, his eyes taking in Sunao’s naked arm stretched across his chest. A slight shift under the blanket told him that the rest of Sunao was equally naked, as was himself.

He sat up in shock, a part of him lamenting the loss of warmth from Sunao’s body. “I have no idea how this happened,” he protested but that didn’t stop the rampage of complaints that flew from Matsuri’s mouth. He tried to feel guilty or upset that he had ruined his friend’s holiday but as he looked down as the tiny smile Sunao gave him from where the brunette was still curled around him under the covers Sora found he couldn’t make himself feel that upset.

Stone walls closed in around him. How long had he been here? His memory of anything else was fading, though it couldn’t have been that long. Someone would have come for him. His shoulder scraped the ceiling as he stretched slightly. He missed the colors. He missed fresh air and the smell of the sea. He missed the rolling grass of the summer fields. He even missed the snow, piling so thick and high it threatened to swallow his village. Most of all, he missed food.

Closing his eyes against the darkness, Ayslin tried to remember moving. His legs ached from being kept tucked tight into his body so long. He’d gotten used to the smell after the first day, stopped caring about being dirty within the first week. Light filtered into his cell from the tiny slants of the grate in the door, barely more than a lighter part of the black darkness that surrounded him. If he turned, put his back against the far wall, and stretched his arm to its full length he could tighten his fingers around the grate, relieving some of the ache in his arms.

A slight sound in the darkness caught Ayslin’s attention. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Quickly Ayslin moved back against the wall of his cell to make room for the bowl. He wondered which one it would be this time. Last had been water, sometime before he’d slept. His stomach growled and he knew which one he wanted. It felt like forever since they’d brought porridge.

The door opened with a loud clang and Ayslin shrank back quickly, raising his arms to block out the harsh light that filled his dark cell.

“Well, what do we have here?” A booming voice filled his tiny cell, mirth evident in the man’s voice but it was nothing like the light laughter of the men of Ayslin’s village. This was one of the bad men, he could tell.

A strong arm gripped his wrist, yanking him sharply from his cell. Ayslin screamed as the floor dropped suddenly away from him. He fell almost the entire length of the man that still held his wrist, hitting the stones below with a hard smack. Murky air filled his lungs as he gasped in pain but he drank it up, a luxury after the thin, stale air that worked its way through the tiny grate in his cell door.

Cold water was dumped over him and it felt like smacking the stones again. He tried to pull away, to curl against the safety of the stones but the man’s grip on his arm allowed him no movement. Blinking open his eyes he waited until his vision focused before moving his head away from the floor. Four pairs of shoes stood in front of him.

Suddenly the strange man tugged him up and Ayslin screamed, his limbs protesting suddenly being forced to carry his weight. The man in front of him smiled, what few teeth that showed in his grin yellowed almost to the point of turning black. Foul breath hit him as the man laughed, reminding Ayslin of being back in the cell. The man and two others with him were dressed in dirty clothing, with a number of weapons hanging from various straps.

The burly man nodded at the fourth, a small twisted man that looked like a stooped rat. Ayslin’s arm was tugged sharply and he stumbled after the burly man down a dark hall. One of the dirty men carried a shuttered lantern, the light burning Ayslin’s eyes every time he looked towards it. Metal doors lined the hall four high, stretching as far as Ayslin’s eye could see. As they moved along he could hear soft whimpers and cries coming from behind the metal cages.

At the end of the hall stood a long stone stairwell. Ayslin fell a number of times trying to crawl up the steps but the burly man never slowed, dragging Ayslin along behind him. A blinding sliver of light shone at the top of the steps and Ayslin shrank back, afraid. The man with the lantern opened the door and Ayslin screamed as the brightness ate at his eyes. He stumbled blindly behind the men, his feet scraping across gravel until he was lifted and tossed onto something wooden.

Darkness returned and he swam in it, his body feeling light and free for the first time in eternity. He was back in the fields of his village, running through the green fields, being chased by two of the other village boys while their mothers watched laughter softening the lines of worry etched on their faces. Elsewhere, their fathers were tending the poor crops. Ayslin’s father had explained that the spirits of the earth were unhappy over something and had chosen not to grace the village with a bountiful harvest this year. Some of the men had already left for the city a week’s ride to the south to seek employment. They needed money, his father explained, in order to buy enough food to survive through the winter.

When the men had come, late into the harvest, Ayslin had overjoyed. They said they were kind men, good men who would give his people money if some of the boys just wrote their name on a piece of paper. Ayslin had been the first to do so, thinking how proud his parents would be of him. He was helping the village.

Then the men had come the next day, riding giant horses and carrying more steel than Ayslin had ever seen in his life. They’d taken every boy that signed the paper, saying that the boys belonged to the men. Ayslin didn’t remember much after that. There was the dark wagon, where the boys had huddled together and cried. Then the men had opened the door and pulled them out one by one, hitting them in the face until the boys fell silent. Ayslin had woken in the cell with not enough room to stretch or even sit up. He wondered if the other boys from his village were still in the cells he’d been drug past or if they’d been taken away as well.

*****

Ayslin woke to the feel of coarse sheets beneath him and a scratchy blanket overtop of him. For a moment he thought he’d been rescued and he sat up in surprise. A noise from the side of the cluttered wooden cabin drew Ayslin’s eyes. All hope faded from his eyes as the burly man smiled at him, lips stretched wide in a lecherous grin. The man wore only a filthy pair of trousers now, his hairy chest dotted with a number of scars.

“Who you?” Ayslin stuttered brokenly in the Common Tongue.

The burly man stood, tossing the dagger he’d been picking his teeth with onto the table next to a plate of greasy bones. Ayslin’s stomach rolled again as he stared at the empty plate and he almost forgot he’d asked the question.

“I’m Captain Blackstone, boy.”

Ayslin’s eyes went wide in terror and he backed as far as he could away from the evil man. Even in the far Northern Reaches they’d heard the exploits of the Pirate Blackstone, though rumor said he’d disappeared three years ago.

“Please,” Ayslin begged, his eyes threatening to fill with tears. “Let go. I do nothing.”

The captain’s broken grin stretched wider. “Didn’t you read that little contract you signed, boy?”

Ayslin shook his head. “No read.” They’d promised that it was nothing bad. They just wanted the boy’s names. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Captain Blackstone’s laugh echoed through the cabin, as dark as his name. He reached the bed, leaning forward to grab Ayslin’s arm before he could dart for the door. Black eyes glittered cruelly. “There’s nothing out there except for more of my men and the open sea.” Ayslin felt his heart sink as he realized he couldn’t run. The captain moved onto the bed and Ayslin trembled in fear. “Just you and me, boy.”

Ayslin screamed as the captain pressed down on him, his cries echoing from the cabin to be swallowed up in the sea.

*****

“Boy!”

Ayslin flinched as he was called. Gripping the rope tightly with both hands, he glanced down to see Blackstone’s second calling him from the deck below. Fresh bruises on his shoulders protested being stretched, but Ayslin had gotten used to ignoring pain as he worked on the ship. Nearly half a year’s time had passed since he’d first been brought aboard Blackstone’s ship. In the north the first spring flowers would be budding in the fields.

“The captain wants you in his cabin.” Blackstone’s second smiled widely as he delivered the message. Ayslin forced down the urge to hurl. Blackstone was worse than any of his men, delighting in the pain he could bring. “When you’re done with him, come down to the crew cabin.”

Ayslin nodded once, his face a blank mask. The wind caressed his back, quiet waves beckoning him from below and for a moment Ayslin was at peace. He felt gentle hands on his back even though no one was there. The touches had been happening more often whenever Ayslin worked on the rigging.

Glancing down at the water Ayslin imagined he saw the figures of women there, beckoning him. The wind at his back hugged him, gently urging him towards the water. Turning is head, Ayslin stared at the crew littering the deck. He remembered the touch of each of them as he was held down, forced into unwanted acts. His eyes teared at the memory and he gasped in a shaky breath as he made up his mind.

Closing his eyes, Ayslin let go of the rope and stepped off the mast. Spreading his arms he let the wind take him in a gentle caress. Shouts echoed along the deck and he could imagine men rushing forward as he sped towards the water. More hands welcomed him as he hit the water, the expected smack never coming as he slipped below the water. The wind came with him as the water pulled him away from the ship. A woman’s face pressed close, smiling as she pressed her lips against Ayslin. His mouth opened reflexively and a breath of sweet air slipped in.

Relaxing in the arms surrounding him, Ayslin let the women carry him away.

*****

“Captain!”

Captain Baily Ralston raced to the side of the ship, his gaze following his crewman’s outstretched finger. Beneath the surface of the waves he could see a figure sliding closer to the ship. As it approached he could make out the shape of a small boy floating underneath the waves. Just as the corpse was about to hit his ship, the waves broke and the boy floated up towards them.

The crewman backed off quickly, crossing his chest with a sign to ward off evil. Baily held his place as the dripping boy settled on the planks of his deck. The boy’s eyes were closed but his mouth was open and he seemed to be breathing. Kneeling on the deck Baily set his fingers against the side of the boy’s neck. The skin was cool to the touch but there was movement beneath his fingers.

“He’s alive,” Baily shouted, turning towards the stunned crewmen littering the deck impatiently. “Get a blanket, quickly. And some dry clothes.”

Bruises littered the boy’s chest, more peaking out beneath the thin trousers he wore. His blonde hair was matted to his head with water, and Baily imagined it must have been filthy before the water washed it clean. The boy was thin, obviously undernourished and Baily made a mental note to have his cook prepare a hearty broth.

Pale blue eyes the color of a shallow inlet blinked open as Baily carefully wrapped the boy in a blanket and lifted him into his arms.

“Rest,” he whispered, holding the boy close. “You’re safe.”

The boy fell back asleep without hesitation.

*****

Ayslin woke slowly, experience telling him it was better to hide any sign of his return to consciousness until he knew where he was. He cracked an eye open, barely a sliver but enough to give him a faint glance of the room around him. The cabin looked nothing like anything on the Bloody Water. It was too clean, too organized. Taking in a light breath he realized it smelled better too, the faint scent of herbs littering the air.

Slowly Ayslin sat up. Layers of cloth shifted against his skin as he rose and Ayslin stared down in surprise to find himself dressed in clean clothing. Pulling away the fabric of his white shirt, he found his chest had been bandaged as well, the sterile white of the bandages putting the clean shirt to shame.

The door to the cabin opened and Ayslin jumped, shifting his back against the wall even though he knew it would do him no good.

A clean-shaven man in a plain white shirt and brown trousers walked in, his green eyes lighting as he saw Ayslin. Red hair faded by the sun was pulled back in a ponytail that ran halfway down the man’s back. An easy smile graced the man’s face as he carefully shut the door while balancing a tray with one hand.

“Ah, good, you’re awake.” The man’s voice was pleasant, reminding Ayslin fondly of the men in his village. As he stepped closer, Ayslin smelled the faint scent of soap and cleaning herbs.

“Do you feel well enough to get out of bed?” The man asked politely as he stood next to a polished round table. A similar wooded desk was fixed to the floor on the opposite corner of the room from the bed, a series of closed cabinets stuck in the walls around it. The cabin looked almost uninhabited. Everything seemed to be tucked away securely in some part of the cabin.

Slowly Ayslin nodded.

The man set the tray down on the table and pulled out a chair in front of it. Ayslin was confused when the man stood next to it, staring at him instead of sitting down.

“Do you need a hand up?”

Ayslin stared up at the man, a small frown crinkling his lips as he shook his head. Rising slowly, Ayslin kept an eye on the man. His eyes shifted towards the door.

“I’m afraid that way isn’t of much use right now,” the man commented easily. “We’ll be at port in another day, but until then it’s just water and a bit of deck out there.” His eyes gazed at Ayslin with a mix of pity and concern. “Don’t worry, you’re safe here. Please, eat.”

Cautiously crossing the room, Ayslin sat in the chair, blinking in surprise when the man pushed the chair in for him before removing the lid from a steaming bowl of broth. A thick slice of bread sat on the tray next to an apple and a large glass of water.

The man moved away, taking the chair on the opposite side of the table.

“Aren’t you hungry?” The man smiled gently at him.

Ayslin frowned at the man once more before cautiously lifting the spoon and tasting the broth. The warm liquid trailed down his throat, not too hot and evenly spiced. It was perhaps the best thing he’d tasted in his life, definitely the best in his memory. His stomach roared, reminding him how long it’d been since he’d eaten.

“Is it good?”

Ayslin glanced up in surprise, his spoon pausing halfway from the bowl. He nodded.

The man’s smile widened and he gestured for Ayslin to continue eating. Ayslin wondered what he would have to do for the man in exchange for the food and clothing. At the moment, he didn’t really care. For the first time in six months he didn’t have to beg or offer his body for the smallest scraps of food.

“My name is Baily Ralston,” the man introduced quietly as Ayslin ate. “This ship is the Dauntless Tracker. What’s your name, child?”

Ayslin blinked. How long had it been since someone had cared what his name was?

“Ayslin,” he answered slowly.

Baily nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Ayslin. Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Glancing across the table, Ayslin shook his head. His shoulders relaxed slightly as Baily stayed on the opposite side of the table, not once making a move towards Ayslin.

“How did you get your injuries?”

Ayslin froze, his hand freezing with the spoon still in his mouth. Carefully, he removed the utensil and set it in the almost empty bowl.

“I understand your reluctance,” Baily said quietly, his voice soothing. “I’d like to help you, to make sure they don’t do this to anyone else.”

Ayslin stiffened and stared across the table warily. “You want to return me.” He’d managed to pick up more of the Common Tongue during his stay with Captain Blackstone and his crew, though he would have happily gone without the knowledge of the language and the crew he learned it from.

Baily shook his head quickly, his eyes hurt. “No, I wouldn’t. I assure you I want only to help you. If you’d like, I can drop you off at Whitecliff manor before we go after the men who hurt you. The lord there is a very kind man.”

Ayslin watched Baily closely. “What will you do with the man who hurt me?”

“I’ll kill him,” Baily answered without hesitation.

“And his crew?”

Baily nodded, his eyes grim.

Ayslin made up his mind quickly. “I will tell you with one condition.”

“Name it.” He had the impression that he could ask for anything under the sky and Baily would give it.

Ayslin let a small smile fall on his lips. “I want to watch as you kill him.”

“Done.” With a quick nod, Baily spit on his palm. Ayslin mirrored the action, his small handed easily enveloped in Captain Baily’s as the sealed the deal.

“His name is Captain Blackstone.”

Baily’s eyes widened. “Are you certain?”

Ayslin nodded with conviction. “That is what he told me.”

A frown marred Baily’s face and Ayslin found his confidence failing. Obviously Blackstone was someone to be feared. He wondered if the captain would back out on his deal now that he knew who he was facing.

“Describe him to me.” Confidence and anger filled Baily’s voice.

Blinking in surprise, Ayslin called up every memory of Blackstone’s body, describing the man down to the last scar.

“And his ship?”

“Bloody Water,” Ayslin answered.

Captain Baily Ralston rose with a nod. “I’ll order a change of course immediately.”

*****

Ayslin held out his hand as the wind danced around him. Tiny fingers danced against his palm as the wind swirled, a vague female figure visible in the winds. Below him Ayslin could see two more female figures dancing in the waves, their bodies seeming nothing more than the ripples of the ocean tide.

“There you are.”

Ayslin turned with a small smile as Captain Baily approached to lean against the railing next to him. Nearly two weeks they’d been on the chase of the Bloody Water, and not once during that time had the captain or any of his men laid a hand on Ayslin. After months of captivity, he was beginning to relax.

The captain squinted at the air in front of Ayslin, his eyes missing the figure in the wind. With a smile he shook his head.

“The men thought you were a spriteling at first,” Baily remarked offhandedly. That explained the men’s distance from Ayslin, though he found he didn’t mind.

“And now?”

Laughter filled the air as Baily chuckled. “They still think you’re someone enchanted, but they’re not afraid that you’re going to curse the ship anymore.”

Ayslin found himself smiling along with the captain. He glanced sideways at the captain’s calm face. “And yourself?”

Baily’s grin widened as he smiled down at Ayslin. “I merely think you’re enchanting.” Despite the flirtatious tone of his voice, Baily’s hands didn’t even twitch towards him.

Ayslin had been surprised on his first night on the Dauntless Tracker to learn that he’d been occupying the captain’s bed. Instead of insisting Ayslin share, or sending him off to the crewmen’s quarters, the captain slept on the floor by Ayslin’s bed. He’d been oddly comforted by the gesture.

Days later he’d asked the captain why he never touched Ayslin in the way Captain Blackstone had. Baily responded that no matter how attractive Ayslin was, he wouldn’t touch a child. The words had been both disappointing and encouraging at the same time.

“We’ll be coming upon the Bloody Water this evening or the next morning. When we do, I want you to stay up in the crow’s nest. Is that understood?”

Ayslin nodded once. He’d never expected Baily to let him near combat and he wasn’t disappointed to be kept out of the way. All he wanted was to watch as the crew of Bloody Water was slaughtered. He deserved to watch.

*****

They came upon the dirty ship as the sun was sinking towards the horizon. From his time on Captain Ralston’s ship he could tell how disorganized and unclean Blackstone’s ship was. The wind rose around him, a maiden of air sitting on the railing of the crow’s nest near Ayslin. Even though Baily had the flag of parley raised, Blackstone’s crew looked armed for murder.

The form of the dirty captain was visible by the railing, two of his crewmembers unwilling shields in front of him. Already a corpse littered the deck in front of Blackstone, most likely from someone who objected to being a shield. Baily stood at the railing with his men behind him, their weapons sheathed.

“What be yer call for parley?” Blackstone shouted as the two ships drew close.

“Are you Captain Blackstone?” Baily asked in a clear voice. His shoulders were set in a tense line.

“Aye, I be.” Blackstone chuckled. “Who be you to dare go looking for the dreaded pirate Blackstone?”

The sound of steel scraping scabbard rang through the air as Baily drew his sword with a smile. “The real Captain Blackstone.”

Ayslin was as surprised as Captain Blackstone as Baily leaped the short distance between the ships. The first of Blackstone’s men were down before Blackstone realized it, and Ayslin found himself smiling slightly in satisfaction as one of the men who’d hurt him was killed. Both sides shouted suddenly as they fell into the fray. Baily’s men bridged the distance between the ships, running across a sturdy plank to swarm the deck of Blackstone’s ship.

Blackstone’s men were both outnumbered and outclassed. While Blackstone’s men were used to winning by reputation and sheer force, Baily’s men fought with practiced skill, almost military-like in their efficiency. Blackstone’s men fell like chaff, their bodies littering the deck as their blood stained the deck. As his men fought and died beneath Baily’s expert blade, Blackstone was slowly singled out as the obvious focus of his attention. A few of the pirates called for surrender but their cries were quickly silenced with the flick of a blade from one of Baily’s crew.

“How dare you tarnish the Blackstone name.” The wind carried Baily’s words to the crow’s nest as the redheaded captain squared off with Blackstone.

Crawling forward to the edge of the crows nest, Ayslin watched with wide eyes as Baily dispatched the greasy captain with efficient strokes. One blow knocked Blackstone’s sword to the side, Baily’s sword slipping down the steel and around the guard to slice through Blackstone’s fingers. Blackstone dropped the sword with a scream. Blood arced through the air in quick spurts from the stump of his hand. A second fountain joined the air as Baily brought his sword around in a two-handed swing that cut cleanly through Blackstone’s neck, effectively silencing the man’s pain-filled cries.

Relief welled inside of Ayslin as he saw Blackstone fall. Never again would he have to suffer that man’s touch. Baily turned and nodded to Ayslin. As the captain stepped back over to the Dauntless Tracker Ayslin slipped from the crow’s nest. For the first time since striking their deal Baily touched Ayslin, his hand landing lightly on Ayslin’s shoulder and squeezing. Ayslin smiled, his fear of a man’s touch fading from him.

The wind screamed warning and Ayslin turned in time to see one of the dying men on Bloody Water fire a crossbow. Anger welled in Ayslin as the bolt sped towards Baily and he let the rage out with a roar. The air turned, reversing the bolt and sending it back towards the sender. A rush of air hit the man seconds after the bolt struck home in his chest, carrying the man off the ship. Screams ripped through the air from behind the ship and Ayslin knew the water was seeking vengeance for him.

“Come away,” Baily whispered to him softly, his arm around Ayslin’s waist as he led Ayslin back into his cabin.

Ayslin looked up at the captain questioningly. “You’re Blackstone?”

Baily nodded with a smile, wiping his blade on a cloth from one of the cabinets before tucking it away in a chest. “The real one.”

“You don’t seem like a pirate,” Ayslin remarked with curiosity. Baily was too kind to be a pirate.

“I’m not really,” Baily smiled, taking a seat at the table while Ayslin sank onto the bed. “But there are things that persuade me to be.”

Ayslin nodded. It didn’t really make sense to him but he accepted it without a care. He felt the ship jerk as it pulled away from the Bloody Water. “So your name isn’t Ralston?”

“It is. I was named Captain Blackstone by my predecessor five years ago, but I don’t use the title often.”

Soft sheets welcomed Ayslin as he settled onto the bed. Baily stepped closer, placing a soft kiss on Ayslin’s forehead before moving away again. The smell of burning flesh and wood filled the air as Ayslin drifted to sleep and he smiled.

*****

Ayslin waited on the outcrop of rock overlooking the harbor as he did every year after the first winter thaw. He’d been there every morning for the past week, arriving before the sun and staying until the sun reached its noonday peak. The wind greeted him with a smile as it always did. Far below him the water sprites danced in glee and he knew he’d see white sails soon.

Today marked the sixth spring since Captain Baily Blackstone had returned him to the Northern Reaches, and the first time he’d seen Baily since he’d reached majority. Ayslin could still remember the joy of his parents as Baily had returned him to his village. The same joy was repeated again over the next four years as all ten of the boys who had been taken from the village were returned. Baily always returned in the spring, right after the first thaw, whether he had someone to return or not. He’d stay for a day and a night, his crew welcomed among the village as they traded for supplies. It was the happiest time of the year for Ayslin.

This year would be the best and Ayslin smiled as white sails dotted the horizon. Rising swiftly he raced down the path back to the village. Over the last six years he’d grown taller, almost Baily’s equal in height though he remained thinner, his body lithe as a runner’s. He wore his blonde hair long in the same style as the captain.

Ayslin smiled as he raced through the village, shouting a happy warning to his parents as he ran past their hut. Decorations littered the village in preparation for the celebration that was planned for tonight. Several villagers, men and women he had known since his birth, shouted their good wishes as Ayslin ran past. The Dauntless Tracker was fast approaching as his feet hit the wood planks of the harbor, though it would still be several moments before they were close enough to dock. He couldn’t wait that long.

Letting his feet carrying him as they will, Ayslin ran off the dock into the waiting arms of an air sprite. She smiled at him, chuckling warmly in his ear as she carried him to the deck of the Dauntless Tracker. Baily was waiting with a giant smile on his face, his arms outstretched to catch Ayslin. The sprite balanced him on the railing and Ayslin let himself fall forward into Baily’s arms with a laugh. Strong arms caught him, spinning them around once before dropping Ayslin to his feet.

Baily leaned forward to place his customary kiss on Ayslin’s forehead but Ayslin stretched up, catching Baily on the lips instead.

“Ayslin!” Baily pulled back quickly, the warning in his voice belied by the smile in his eyes. “What have I told you about that?”

A devious grin stretched across Ayslin’s face as he pulled Baily closer. “It’s been six years, Baily. I’m at my majority.” The captain looked surprised for a moment, the look disappearing from his face as Ayslin stretched up to kiss him again.

Around the deck Baily’s crew cheered, their shouts filling the air as Baily finally kissed Ayslin back. Ayslin smiled into the kiss as he was victorious. For the first time in six years Baily allowed Ayslin to taste his lips. The captain’s tongue slipped between them and Ayslin welcomed it. He’d waited so long for this. Finally, the moment was here and he found it more than worth the wait.

Ayslin smiled broadly when they finally parted, his arms wrapped tightly around Baily’s shoulders.

“The entire village is waiting to celebrate,” Ayslin whispered happily.

“Well then,” Baily smiled, “best not to keep them waiting, husband-mine.”

---

 

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Author’s Note: AV is the abbreviation used in Japanese slang for adult videos.

Kato was waiting by the time Iwaki made it back to their apartment. The blonde smiled as Iwaki toed off his shoes, a mischievous grin that spread into his eyes.

“I rented a video,” Kato announced. He held up the video, a plain DVD bereft of its case.

Iwaki shrugged, the movement lost as he pulled off his coat and tossed it on the back of the couch. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to watch anything, having just come off the set but he wouldn’t complain about the chance to see Kato for a while. Kato rose from the couch to put the DVD in the player. Kato settled next to him, closer than was necessary but Iwaki definitely didn’t mind. The younger man’s arm snaked around his shoulders, pulling him close.

“What is it?” Iwaki asked as static played on the screen, only to be replaced seconds later by a simple title screen. He didn’t recognize the name of the movie, not surprising since it appeared to be a low budget work.

“Something you’ll like.” Kato kissed him on the neck as he spoke, his arms pulling Iwaki tight in to him.

Iwaki was torn between watching the TV or watching Kato. Curiosity won out and he stared at the screen as a simple apartment shot played out. Then Kato walked on screen, followed by another man and his eyes widened. Kato had rented one of his own AV’s?

“Like it?” Kato’s tongue mapped foreign shapes on the skin behind his ear.

“Why?” He gasped, back arching in pleasure as Kato’s hands ran under his shirt.

Kato shifted them, pushing Iwaki down onto the couch. “I thought it’d be interesting.” He turned his head to the side, his eyes falling back on the TV screen as the digital Kato pushed his male companion down onto a smaller couch in the AV.

“Does it make you jealous?” Kato purred low in his ear, mimicking the motions of his character on the screen. “Don’t you want to be the guy on the screen? Don’t you want me to touch you?”

“Touch me,” Iwaki commanded, turning his face away from the TV screen. He was jealous and he didn’t bother to hide it, Kato would be able to tell anyways.

Kato moved down, opening Iwaki’s shirt as he went. His tongue laved at the exposed skin, burning a line down his chest until he reached the top of Iwaki’s pants. The fabric there was stripped away with ease, shoved down to his knees to leave him exposed to Kato’s ministrations. Out of the corner of his eyes Iwaki could see Kato in the video engulfing his partner at the same time as the real Kato closed his mouth around Iwaki.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hips jerking as Kato’s mouth moved slowly around him. Loud moans worked their way past clenched lips. The noise only seemed to encourage Kato, making him bob his head faster. Kato’s tongue swirled and Iwaki cried out his lover’s name. One of Kato’s hands joined his mouth, playing with the skin around the base of his erection, while the other crept lower, pressing cool liquid inside Kato. Any doubts he’d harbored about Kato planning this before were gone now.

Iwaki’s hands thread their way through blonde hair, his back arching as Kato pressed inside and around him. His eyes sneaked open, sparing a glance at the TV screen only to find that he’d unwittingly matched the position of his counterpart in the AV. He watched Kato’s digital partner’s face scrunch up, his own breath quickening as Kato pressed his fingers deep inside, rubbing in time to the movement of his mouth.

He came at the same time as the man on the screen. Iwaki’s voice filled the apartment, deafening out the sounds from the AV as he filled Kato’s mouth. Kato’s hands encouraged him, coaxing him further until he was left spent. Slumping back onto the couch, Iwaki watched Kato lick his lips with a devilish smile as he pulled away. Strong hands moved to his hips, flipping Iwaki onto his stomach. Firm weight pressed into his back as Kato leaned over him.

Kato turned Iwaki’s head to face the TV. “Watch.”

The word burned in his mind and he found his eyes glued to the screen as Kato pressed inside of him. The two men on the screen were locked in a similar embrace, the man on the bottom crying out with over exaggerated enthusiasm. Iwaki’s soft pants could barely be heard over the TV, his breath forced from him every time Kato thrust inside him. He fought the urge to close his eyes, to surround himself in the pleasure of being with Kato.

His earlier envy was replaced with pride as Kato leaned over him, panting endearments and promises of love. The man on the screen may have felt Kato before but this wasn’t acting. Iwaki had Kato, here, now, in real life. No AV could change that. Kato was his.

He let his eyes fall shut as Kato’s hips jerked erratically, thrusts quickening until he stilled with a final, hard slam. Kato’s seed filled him and he could hear the Kato in the AV crying out in release at the same time.

Kato reached over him, the move sending a delicious shiver up Iwaki’s spine from where they were still joined. He clicked a button on the remote and the room fell into silence. Slowly Kato slipped out, rolling Iwaki to face him. He was held tight as Kato kissed him, abated passion playing out between their lips.

The kiss ended and Kato still held him close, leaning in to whisper in Iwaki’s ear. “Maybe next time we’ll watch one of yours.”

Ayase carefully poured the cake mix into the square pan. A slight frown marred his features as he worried about the cake. Gion had mentioned earlier that it was Kanou’s birthday and he’d wanted to do something special for Kanou but the cake didn’t seem to be turning out quite right. He was sure that he had followed the directions exactly. Closing the oven door with a sigh he figured he’d just have to wait to see how the cake turned out.

The kitchen was a mess. Flour covered the countertop and most of Ayase’s clothing, with bits of cake mix flecking on his skin. He still had an hour before Kanou was supposed to be home, which left him enough time to mix up the frosting. Flipping pages in his cookbook, he started pouring ingredients into the mixing bowl. Thankfully the frosting was fairly simple and Ayase was fairly confident that he wouldn’t mess that up.

“What’s this mess?”

Ayase jumped with a tiny cry, icing splattering up the front of his shirt. He whirled to face Kanou. “Kanou-san, you’re early.”

Kanou seemed to ignore him, glaring around at the messy kitchen.

“I’ll clean it up as soon as I’m done,” Ayase promised earnestly. The comment brought Kanou’s gaze back to him, a decidedly evil spark flaring in the businessman’s eye as he looked at Ayase.

“What are you doing?” Kanou took a step forward, his eyes fixed on the side of Ayase’s face. Ayase resisted the urge to reach up and brush at his skin, trying to make himself appear as small and innocent as possible.

“I-I was baking,” Ayase stuttered.

Kanou stopped right in front of him, his eyes shifting behind Ayase for a moment before he leaned down. Ayase started as a cool tongue laved at the skin of his cheek, wiping off a drop of frosting that had landed there.

“Taste’s good.”

Ayase flushed, both at the compliment and at Kanou’s proximity. Kanou grabbed him around the waist, reaching past him to pick up the bowl of frosting before propelling them both into the bedroom.

“Kanou-san, that’s for…” Ayase’s complaint was cut off as he was pushed back onto the bed. The bowl of frosting was set safely on the bedside table before Kanou crawled on top of him, efficiently stripping Ayase of his clothing. He tried ineffectively pushing Kanou off of him but then Gion’s words ran in his head. Ayase wanted to make Kanou’s birthday special so he supposed that just this once he could play along nicely.

Kanou pulled back slightly as Ayase relaxed, shooting him a triumphant look before he grabbed the bowl of frosting. He gasped as a line of cool white frosting dribbled down the center of his chest. Kanou’s mouth followed quick after it, bringing Ayase’s back arching up off the bed. His small hands found their way to Kanou’s hair though he couldn’t decide whether he was trying to push him away or pull him closer.

The last of the frosting disappeared under Kanou’s tongue. Somewhere in his path down, Kanou had managed to shrug off his jacket and shirt. Kanou’s bare chest scraped across Ayase’s budding erection, eliciting a shiver from the smaller man. The heat of Kanou’s body left him for a brief moment. Instead of the heat returning, Ayase was shocked to feel cool liquid pouring down over his erection. He only had a moment to register his surprise before Kanou’s mouth was there, surrounding him.

His hands were definitely pulling Kanou closer this time, trying to encourage Kanou further down. Needy moans escaped his throat as he arched off the bed, feet slipping against the sheets as he tried to find more traction. All too soon the bliss of Kanou’s mouth pulled away, leaving him feeling bereft. He begged mindlessly, not even aware of what he was saying. All that mattered was that he needed more.

“Would you like to try some?” The question took a moment to register. Once the words parted the fog of Ayase’s mind, he looked up to find Kanou kneeling on the bed between his legs, ardent desire standing up proudly before him.

Ayase glance up at Kanou’s face once before nodded. He moved to his knees as Kanou leaned back, dribbling some of the freshly made frosting over his erection. Ayase met Kanou’s gaze once, uncertain, as he crawled over. Reminding himself of his earlier vow to make the day special for Kanou, he leaned forward slowly. His lips touched the hot flesh of Kanou’s erection. Flicking his tongue out he tasted the icing, perfectly sweet, and underneath that a faint bitterness.

He licked experimentally a couple times, getting used to the taste of the frosting mixed with Kanou’s flesh. He opened his mouth, carefully fitting Kanou into his mouth. Bobbing slowly he forced himself to move further down and suck lightly at the sweet skin in his mouth. One of Kanou’s hand petted his hair, relaxing Ayase as he continued his ministrations. It didn’t take long for him to reach his limit and he pulled away quickly as he coughed. Kanou’s hands were on him in an instant but Ayase pushed away. Leaning down again he lapped up the remaining frosting with his tongue.

Kanou’s eyes burned as he pulled Ayase away. He shifted them back to the head of the bed, pushing the bowl of frosting back onto the table before reaching into the bedside drawer and pulling out a tube of lubrication. Ayase spread his legs easily. They were both hard and panting, and he found himself eager for what he knew was coming. Kanou spread the lube quickly on himself before lifting Ayase’s legs. One quick thrust was all it took for Kanou to spear straight through him.

Ayase gasped in pleasure, the sound repeated louder as Kanou thrust again. Kanou gave him no time to recover, his pace speeding into a brutal rhythm that rocked Ayase hard against the bed. Reaching out, Ayase wrapped his arms around Kanou’s neck and held on as he was taken. Hard thrusts filled him and Ayase found himself slipping. A rough hand was his undoing, one quick jerk all it took to push him over the edge.

His limbs quivered as he let go, relaxing back into the bed as Kanou rocked inside of him. He gazed up, smiling softly as he watched his lover’s stoic face crease into a frown of concentration. Seconds later Kanou was following after him, warm liquid pumping deep into Ayase as Kanou gave in to release.

Strong arms wrapped around him, holding Ayase tight and safe.

“Happy Birthday, Kanou,” Ayase whispered shyly.

“It’s not my birthday.”

“Eh?” Ayase bolted upright in bed, staring down at Kanou in disbelief.

“It’s not for five more months.”

Ayase blinked. “But Gion…”

“Obviously doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Kanou reached out with one arm and pulled Ayase down beside him.

With a pout Ayase let the conversation end. Kanou’s arms were warm and welcoming, and he found himself drifting towards sleep. He was almost there when the smell of smoke brought him shooting from the bed.

“The cake!”

He heard Kanou chuckle as he raced from the bedroom, opening the oven door to stare forlornly at his burnt cake. So much for his birthday surprise.

Warrick shot an annoyed glare at Greg as he babbled about Warrick’s results, taking the long-winded way in explaining the results. There were some days, most days really, when he’d give anything just for the kid to shut up. He tapped his pen against his palm as Greg worked his way around to the point in his usual round-about way. Greg’s eyes followed the silver pen with vague interest. Thinking back, Greg had mentioned before that he liked the sleek silver pens Warrick always picked up.

“Yo, Greg,” he interrupted as an idea came to him. Greg’s lips stilled and he smiled at Warrick with thinly veiled amusement. Once he had Greg’s attention Warrick held up the pen. “I’ll give you this pen if you’ll shut up for five minutes.”

The challenge only made Greg’s smile wider. He practically bounced as he made a zipping motion across his lips. Warrick checked the time before holding out his hand towards Greg. “Can I have my results?”

Greg handed him the paper without a word, his smile saying that Greg thought he was getting the better end of the deal.

Warrick took his time reading over the results. Nothing out of the ordinary, and definitely nothing that warranted the song and dance Greg had been putting on. He guessed it was just a way for Greg to derive amusement from them all. Considering the rest of his day was spent playing with test tubes and pushing buttons, Warrick couldn’t really blame him. But logic didn’t do much to placate him when all he wanted was a simple answer so he could move on with the next part of his case.

Greg tapped him on the shoulder to get Warrick’s attention and then pointed to his watch. Five minutes was up. He handed over with a wry smile, his insides fluttering as Greg turned his smile up on high.

“Thank you.” Greg took the pen with a flourish, sweeping down into a comical bow before tucking the pen away into his coat pocket. “I’ve been trying to find where you’ve been getting those for weeks.”

“It’s just a pen, Greg.”

“Ah, but it’s more than a pen! It’s a shiny, metallic pen.” Greg beamed. Warrick wondered if maybe Greg was spiking his coffee with sugar, there had to be some explanation for how that kid got so much boundless energy. Or maybe it was just the coffee that did it. How many cups of the stuff did he go through in a day? Warrick knew he had at least three while at work, probably one or two when he got up. Hell, the kid probably took a cup as a nightcap before he went to bed.

“Sure you don’t want to tell me where you get ‘em?” Hope radiated through Greg’s voice.

Warrick smiled, suddenly in the mood to play back. He had his results, Grissom was out, and the case wasn’t going anywhere. “What, and loose my bargaining edge?”

Greg’s smile filled the room. If he didn’t know better, Warrick would almost think that Greg was flirting with him. Then again, considering this was Greg, he probably was flirting, he flirted with everything. Strange enough, it sounded like he meant it, too.

“You could always bribe me with something else?”

Warrick quirked an eyebrow. “That so?”

Greg nodded, his grin turning devilish. He got the distinct feeling he was being challenged.

“That a bet?”

“It could be,” was Greg’s coy answer. Warrick Brown did not turn down a good bet, particularly one he was certain to win at. There was no way Greg could keep his mouth shut for more than five minutes at a time. He figured the worst he could do was give Greg a head start.

“What do you want?”

Greg’s smile quirked wider. “Make me an offer.”

Well, if that’s the way he wanted to play this… “I’ll give you a pack of post-it notes if you last ten minutes.” The rest of the office would hate him if they found out about that. Greg was a menace when it came to post it notes. Last time he had some, Warrick had found them all over the place, including a note about dogs taped to take-out Chinese in the fridge.

“I can go longer.” The words were accompanied by a hint of sashay and Warrick was really starting to doubt that Greg was just joking around with the flirting. No straight man could look quite so smug when talking to another man about staying power.

Warrick found himself grinning back. “I’ll give you that stapler you keep stealing from me if you can go half an hour.”

“It’s called borrowing,” Greg corrected. “That as far as you want to go?”

“A pack of that nice printer paper you keep going on about if you can last two hours.”

“Keep going.” Greg stepped closer until there was just a stool between them. The way Greg smiled just screamed predator. Warrick found he didn’t mind too much being the prey.

“How long do you thing you can last, G?” Warrick asked with a smile, his eyes raking up and down Greg’s figure in a look that was more than just play.

“I can go all night.”

“Really?” Warrick felt his insides jump at the confidence in Greg’s tone and he had the sudden urge to catch Greg outside of the lab to see if he really could go all night. “I don’t think you’ve got that kind of stamina.” And didn’t that just put wonderful pictures in his head.

“Trust me,” Greg purred. “I can last. Assuming, of course, I’ve got proper incentive.”

Warrick’s lips moved on their own, turning up into a hungry grin before he even realized he was answering back, pushing the innuendo a step further. “What kind of incentive are you looking for?”

“Dinner.”

The answer was so simple that Warrick had to take a second to process it. “That’s it?”

“Yep.” Greg’s tone said he was one-hundred percent sure.

Warrick eyed the lab tech with suspicion. The odds never turned out this good. “What’s the catch? There’s six hours left of the shift. You’re not giving it up that easy.”

Greg swayed around the stool until he was shoulder to shoulder with Warrick, his hips moving in a way that said he’d be more than willing to give it up easy. “Well, I’d ask for dinner at your place but I figured that’s just for chicks.”

He had to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat before he could talk. “It’s not just for chicks.”

Greg’s eyebrow quirked and then he moved past Warrick to shuffle some papers on one of the countertops. Warrick turned, his eyes following Greg as he moved. After a long pause Greg turned, his smile wide enough to swallow the ocean. “So, that’s a deal?” He struck out his hand and Warrick took it.

“Deal.” Greg made that zipping motion over his lips again. Warrick turned to leave. He’d been content to leave it at that but as he hit the doorway, he couldn’t resist one parting shot.

“I’ll be watching you Greg.” Damn if that didn’t seem to make Greg happier.

*****

“Warrick, what the hell did you do?” Catherine burst into the locker room, aggravation written plain across her face.

He turned away to hide the smile that stole onto his face. He’d been getting that a lot today, ever since his bet with Greg. Somehow, without him or Greg saying a word, people had figured out about the bet. Not that restricting Greg from speaking made him any less of an annoyance. When Warrick had stopped in earlier he’d been treated to a game of charades, and he’d caught the tail end of the slideshow Greg had given Nick. He could just imagine the kinds of performances Greg had put on for the rest of the CSI.

“It’s just a bet, Cath,” he placated, the effect of the gesture lost when he couldn’t stop grinning. “Besides it’s over now.”

“It better be,” she growled, turning her back on him to rummage through her locker. “Do you have any idea how aggravating he’s been today?”

“Yeah. I got the picture.” Not even Catherine’s ire could take away the humor of the day.

Catherine whirled on him, her pretty face marred by a dark frown. “I don’t normally care what you boys bet on but don’t ever do that again!”

The door to the locker room opened as he answered. “I won’t,” he promised with as much sincerity as he could dreg up.

Someone coughed, and Warrick looked up to see Greg staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You can talk now, you know. You won.”

Greg beamed and practically skipped into the locker room.

“Finally,” Catherine sighed. “I’m off. You boys enjoy yourself.” Her dire mood disappeared in an instant as she sent Greg a conspiratorial wink.

“She knows?” Warrick wasn’t really surprised.

“She knows about the dinner,” Greg smiled at him. He shucked his lab coat and changed from the somewhat conservative shirt he was wearing into a t-shirt bright enough to make the sun blink.

“There’s more than the dinner?” He couldn’t help but tease. A flirtatious smirk crept on his face. He couldn’t resist throwing out a lure, and he was more than half-hoping Greg caught it.

“There could be.” Greg shut his locker with a matching smirk.

“There could.” Warrick stood and offered his hand to Greg. “Shall we?”

*****

Warrick held the door open for Greg. The lab tech walked in with wide eyes, glancing around the apartment appreciatively.

“Nice place.” He turned and smiled at Warrick with dancing eyes.

“It works for me.” Echoing Greg’s smile, he locked the door behind him. He had a feeling neither of them would be leaving for a while.

Passing Greg with a teasing glance, he headed for the kitchen. “What would you like for your promised dinner? I don’t have much here so it’ll be hit or miss whether I have ingredients or not.”

“I was hoping for a tour before dinner.” Greg was right behind him as Warrick turned, the same flirtatious smile affixed to the lab tech’s face. Stretching up, Greg wrapped his arms around Warrick’s neck, his face mere inches away from Warrick’s own. “Maybe you’d like to introduce me to your bedroom.”

Warrick’s hands found the bottom of Greg’s shirt. He slipped his hands under the fabric, trailing his hands up with possessive force. Leaning forward, Warrick whispered into Greg’s skin. “There’s time for that later.”

He could hear Greg smile as he pulled the younger man into him. His lips found their way to the soft flesh below Greg’s ear. Greg moaned softly as Warrick kissed close to the junction of his shoulder, the sound stirring lower parts of Warrick’s body into attention. He turned them, pushing Greg back into the counter as his hands pushed Greg’s shirt up to his armpits. Greg untwined his arms from Warrick long enough to roughly pull the shirt off, dropping it to the floor before pressing back into Warrick with ardent fervor.

Their bodies meshed, hips grinding and limbs tangling. One of Greg’s legs hooked against Warrick’s hip and he grabbed the back of Greg’s knee, thrusting his hips into the newly opened crevice. A louder moan slipped from Greg’s lips, followed by a string of affirmations, urging Warrick to move harder, to give him more. Greg’s back arched against the countertop and Warrick felt the sudden urge to feel flesh against flesh. He let Greg’s leg fall away as he hurriedly started work on the buttons of his dress shirt, popping the first button in his haste. Greg’s hands joined him, parting the fabric with practiced ease.

The shirt fell away and Greg surged forward, Greg smashing their lips together as their bodies met. Warrick returned the kiss, probing forward with his tongue. Greg opened his lips, surrendering the cavern of his mouth to Warrick’s invasion but continuing the battle with a rather adventurous tongue. Warrick shoved Greg back against the counter. He felt a moment of concern as Greg’s back met the counter hard but the sounds swallowed by their meshed lips were far from pain-filled. The need for air crept on him but Warrick ignored it, too busy with the tantalizing heat he found thrusting against Greg’s body.

Greg shoved him suddenly, breaking the kiss with a loud gasp of air. Smoldering eyes held Warrick’s own and he moved docilely as Greg turned him until their positions were reversed. Instead of pressing forward Greg dropped to his knees, his hands fumbling hurriedly with the clasp of Warrick’s pants. The fabric was let to fall, followed shortly by Warrick’s boxers. Greg was on him in a second, eager hands a fleeting warning before he was engulfed. Warrick’s eyes threatened to roll back as Greg swallowed him in one swift motion, surrounding Warrick’s cock with tantalizing wet heat.

His hips thrust forward involuntarily and he grasped the countertop behind him as he fought for control. Greg bobbed, his tongue burning a trail on the bottom of Warrick’s cock.

“God, you’re good,” Warrick moaned in appreciation. Greg hummed happily, swirling his tongue in a move that almost pushed Warrick over the edge. He switched his hands from the counter to Greg’s shoulder, gently pushing the younger man away.

Greg smiled up at him and sat back on his heels, continued interest obvious in the tenting of his jeans. “Bedroom?”

Warrick stared down at the pale chest exposed before him, glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. He had a swimmer’s body, thin and lithe. Warrick had a vision of Greg in perfect shape, diving in the ocean waves, a practiced swimmer. Toned muscles were now hidden beneath a thin layer of flesh but Greg’s body was all the more alluring for it, giving his body a softer look. He could imagine how that body would feel beneath him, straining against the sheets.

With supreme effort he pulled his eyes away to glance at the hall leading to his bedroom. “Too far away.”

Grabbing Greg by the shoulders he pulled the young man to his feet. His hands reached to undo Greg’s pants while he toed out of his shoes, pushing Greg back as he stepped out of his clothes. He kept going until Greg hit the kitchen table but instead of stopping he knelt slightly to grab both of Greg’s knees, flipping Greg back onto the table as he stood. Greg caught himself with his hands, holding himself half-upright as he watched Warrick pull off the last of their clothing.

“At least the table’s getting used today,” Greg commented with a smirk.

Warrick smiled back absently, his eyes scanning the kitchen for some sort of lubrication. Moving away for a second he grabbed the vegetable oil off the counter before hurrying back.

“Planning on doing a little cooking?” Greg’s eyes danced with mirth even as he spread his legs for Warrick.

“Not quite.” He fit easily between Greg’s legs. Some of the oil dribbled onto the floor as he coated his fingers. Greg took the bottle from him, twisting on the cap before shoving it back on the table. He slipped a finger inside Greg, adding more after the first was easily received. Greg fell back against the wooden table with a moan, his legs coming up to wrap tightly around Warrick’s hips, pulling him forward.

Greg arched off the table as Warrick’s fingers brushed the sensitive knob inside of him. “Now. Please. Warrick.”

Warrick didn’t need to be told twice. He entered Greg in one swift thrust, flesh parting around him. Tight heat welcomed him and it felt like home. His hands fell to either side of Greg’s chest. He braced himself against the table, staring down at Greg’s flushed face as he tried to catch his breath. Greg smiled at him, a tender look spreading across his face. Reaching up, Greg wrapped his arms around Warrick’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. Their lips met in a soft caress. Where their first kiss had been hot and passionate this one was full of gentle warmth.

Greg’s lips parted for him, coaxing Warrick in. His hips stirred to life, starting with slow, shallow thrusts that built in intensity. The loud noises that fell from Greg’s lips only spurred him on. A stream of incoherent babble filled the room as Warrick moved. He couldn’t make sense out of half the things Greg said but that was hardly abnormal for him.

They were both close. Greg had nearly finished him with the blow-job earlier and Warrick found himself gripping Greg’s hips tight as he tried to hold on. Pleasure was coursing though him, too good to give up without a fight but release was inevitable. It snuck up on him, a single moment of infinite pleasure that hit him between one thrust and the next. He was silent as he came, the soft sigh of breath he let out at the end the only sign of his contentment.

His hands shook slightly as he stilled, opening his eyes to look down at a flushed body still in need of attention. He stayed where he was, softening flesh still encased in Greg, while he reached down with a lazy hand to stroke Greg to fulfillment. Greg’s hips followed Warrick’s hand, the lab tech’s eyes glazing over as he rocked Warrick inside of him. Warrick’s eyes took in every detail of the sight before him, watching avidly as Greg’s body tensed, his back arching clear off the table as he came with a loud shout.

After a moment’s panicked breathing Greg finally relaxed, melting back onto the table with a contented look on his face. His eyes fluttered and Warrick chuckled. Pulling out, he extended a hand to help Greg off the table.

“How about a shower before you fall asleep?”

Greg murmured agreeably as he folded into Warrick’s arms, docilely allowing himself to be lead through the apartment.

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to make you dinner.”

Greg pulled Warrick into the shower with him, a lazy smile on his face. “There’s always tomorrow.”

An echoing smile budded on Warrick’s face. “That there is.”