Scorch

The scent of burnt flesh joined that of blood at the back of his sinuses. Kagami's scream swelled through the alley's interior and rattled into the street beyond with its peripheral echoes. The agent of Babylon City rushed to the peak of a waking nightmare starring the man in the black hat. Akabane held him, locking his joints and trapping him to the asphalt at kneeling height, unable to run but free to thrash against the vice-like grip that quashed all efforts. Then the flames at his back relented and Kagami pitched forwards into his captor, where he gasped until his throat hurt and fought a losing battle with his tears.

His blurred night vision defined the familiar angles and planes of Akabane's face. The lips moved sinuously as a lopsided sneer struggled to control the laughter mounting beyond it. "You are a vocal patient." Akabane cast him a deciphering look, his mind considering whatever convoluted meaning it read from Kagami's expression. He stroked the blond hair with his hand, releasing the faintly chemical smell from its disturbed gelled strands. The gloved touch roamed to trace the lines of Kagami's body-fingers covered up and impersonal, like the rest of Akabane's black-cloaked person-while his victim remained quite naked and shivering in vulnerability, half tucked into the front of his coat. "I did not pull you out of the water only to watch you bleed to death," Akabane said. "Those wounds must be burned closed as quickly as possible. If you would be so kind as to curb your struggles, Kagami-kun."

Kagami-kun.

He realized now that Akabane preferred to only call him Kyoji-kun whenever they were alone. At first, this unexpected change lanced a strange disappointment through the pit of his stomach. It puzzled him. Other emotions such as fear, anger, and shame would have better satisfied his post-traumatic expectations. Disappointment-his feeling of rejection for this implied loss of intimacy-had no place among them. But he tolerated it as he did Akabane's supporting embrace. It did not make sense.

Nor did pleasure, in the company of pain.

"I can't help it." Kagami panted breathlessly, his voice a thin trickle of meaning that misted off at the softer syllables. He flinched when he saw the shadow behind him move. Himiko had not spoken since Kagami had revived, although he remembered her soft lips looming above him as vertical as the ground on which he lay, mouthing a silent apology. Turning now, he caught her looking at him over the bottle of fragrant toxin at her lips, her widened eyes looking distraught at something they saw in his.
Akabane's hand knotted firmly in Kagami's hair, forcibly guiding his gaze to the front. "Don't." The velvet of his voice peeled back, revealing an authoritarian edge. His hands seized Kagami by the shoulders and drew him in, gumming the layer of sticky heat between their pressed chests, one heaving and dirty, the other crisply clothed. "You would not wish to break Lady Poison's concentration performing this dangerous medical procedure for the first time." Their eyes met. "This experience compares to being cut up by diamond shards, does it not? Should you not be able to take what you inflict on people? I know I can. And the perfume is taking its toll on Lady Poison for your benefit." Kagami lowered his gaze, as if staring into the bottomless shadows of the alley would induce his return to unconsciousness. Akabane's voice drew him back. "No retreating." The order lashed with warning. A tight squeeze against one shoulder forced Kagami to obey.

Kagami spoke in resigned conclusion. "You want to see me in pain."

"I want to see something interesting that might result from your pain."

The blonde's jaws parted, then tightened. Akabane glanced past him and nodded. Kagami had a second to brace himself before the blistering heat swept across his back. It thinned to a concentrated trail of fire, tracking methodically from one wound to another. Renewed screams filled all three pairs of ears. Kagami barely noticed Akabane's voice; whatever the words, they probably related to the set of gloves Akabane promptly pushed into Kagami's mouth to quell the volume and offer him something to bite on. Torment took another outlet. Fabric tore in the frenzy of clawing until Kagami's fingernails anchored in Akabane's hips.

The flames stopped licking. "I can't do this anymore."

"Don't pity him, Lady Poison."

"I mean the perfume--"

"At your discretion. But if you hold out a little longer, you'll be almost done. You have helped Kagami-kun this far, after all." The clinging weight slipped from his chest and crashed into his lap. Akabane picked Kagami up with a casual air and squinted through the dark. " Kagami-kun? You are not giving up on us, are you? How silly of me to ask. I can tell you're conscious since you're still biting my gloves. As a precaution, I spared you from severing your tongue like most people do, for it would be inconsiderate of you to commit suicide and deprive me of my fun--"

"Akabane"

"Yes, Lady Poison. We need to finish this quickly. Concentrate. Don't look up until you've finished."

Himiko stooped over and Kagami shrieked. Akabane spoke into his ear, bare fingers silkily caressing his ribs just beyond the flame's reach. "Now let's see you do something interesting." He pressed his lips to Kagami's throat and felt each scream, each erratic pulse, through the quivering skin, and then his slow kisses descended. Down and down.

The flames stopped. Himiko rose, then stared slack-jawed. "I'm done"

The gloves fell. A moan of pleasure tore out of Kagami. He would live.