A/N: I don't really see this story happening, but the idea wouldn't leave me regardless.
Warnings: Agon, Agon, Agon, and oh yeah, Agon being a judgmental prick who thinks he's entitled to everything. So, Agon being Agon. And Agon and Sena being together. Yes, like that. Only there are no butterflies or doves or hearts floating above them. This is not romantic and happiness is a distant place on an old map.
Summary: If eyes are the window to the soul, then Sena understands why Agon always wears sunglasses.
Agon tells him, I'm giving you a choice, you fucking trash, be grateful, but Sena knows there is no choice here at all.
Growing up, Sena never really had friends. He was always that short wimpy kid, good for fetching things and not much else. Mamori looked after him, yes, and he loves her for being the sister he never had, but… she didn't trust him. Who would? It's not as if "capable" is the first thing that comes to mind when looking at weak little Sena.
But football changes that. Here, on the field, he can accomplish something. People trust him in this 100 yard rectangle where he finally, finally feels alive, and he trusts them back. Their dreams are his dreams, and being a part of something is so heady, so unbelievably addicting that Sena will not give it up for anything. There is nothing like charging at the center and knowing the linemen will push a pathway open for him; there is nothing like Hiruma detailing one of his maniacal plans and not even questioning if he can make it work; there is nothing like catching the ball and running down the field for a touchdown.
There is nothing like a victory won together, a loss mourned with others.
But more than that, there is nothing like having an entire team filled with friends. They carry each other, watch each other's backs, and he would do anything to protect them the way they protect him.
Agon is different though. He isn't a teammate, isn't a friend, he isn't someone that Sena really wants to be in the same building as. Agon is the man loved by the gods, the man with god-like reflexes, the man closest to god when he steps into the arena, any arena.
And he knows it, too.
If eyes are the windows to the soul, then Sena understands why Agon always wears sunglasses. It is his eyes that always give him away, after all, the smile that never crinkles the corners of his eyes that never light up like everyone else's. There is only a coldness to be seen there, and that is why he hides them: Agon knows better than to scare away his prey before it's in his jaws. His intelligence is absolute, both human craftiness and animal cunning.
Agon is fearsome.
No, that's not enough, not nearly enough. Agon is a nightmare, a perfect mesh of raw power and more than enough intelligence to know how to use it to cause the most amount of pain. Sena would rather face Gaou a hundred times than be caught in a dark alley with Agon, because Gaou has a strange sense of honor while Agon has nothing. And those with nothing have nothing to lose except the time on their hands. (Yes, Sena would much, much rather be caught in a dark alley with Gaou than Agon, because Agon-)
Agon has a worldview that goes something like this:
There is trash. Trash is everyone who is useless, which is basically everyone that's not Agon.
Above trash, but only slightly, are gorgeous women. Well, gorgeous women who put out. And they always do, if Agon is the one chasing them.
High, high above these two groups, is Agon himself on Olympus where the clouds themselves kneel at his feet. Sometimes, he lets people sit there with him to look down on the rest of the writhing mortals, but their thrones are never as high, never as decorated, never as good as his.
Below everyone, so far down Agon's totem pole is Hiruma, the fallen angel, laughing in the heated core of the world because he was good enough to work alongside Agon and was stupid enough to choose the fucking fatty. For the cardinal sin of choosing someone over Agon, Hiruma is placed below the whores and the trash, and that should be the end of it.
It would be nice, Sena thought, if he could be considered trash again.
Because Sena didn't fit into the whore category, the trash category, and even though he chose to hang out with other "trashes," he wasn't deemed the same as Hiruma. And Agon was so very particular about who got to join him on his mountain after Hiruma.
So Sena gets his own special category, his own special ring of limbo, slightly above Agon's one-night-only women.
See, Agon will remember Sena's name even after he gets Sena to wrap his lips around him in the dim alleyways where anyone can see, he will touch him carefully in his own room while cursing in his ear the entire time before the scant amount of gentleness he shows leaves with their climax.
Agon will fuck (not make love, not sex, just rough, animal intercourse that leaves Sena breathless for all the wrong reasons) him in dangerously almost public places, Agon will drag him to a bedroom and slowly fuck him with a hand in his hair until whines from what he tells himself is the burn but is really need, Agon will mouth incautiously at his neck, raising purple welts that prompt catcalls from his teammates in the changing room and if Hiruma snaps his gum louder than usual, well, no one really notices.
The point is this: Agon will fuck him carelessly, indifferently, but he will fuck Sena more than once.
And that is why Sena is different.
Sena is different from what his teammates think. He wonders, some days, what life would be like if he smiled back at Jyuumonji with meaning instead of forced cluelessness, if he dared to linger behind in the clubhouse after everyone but Hiruma has left and see what those small grins that only show on the demonic quarterback's face if he thinks no one is looking really mean.
But he knows the wrath of the gods is not hindered by the stumbling blocks in front of the blind that go by names like compassion or sympathy or respect; he knows that a god's wrath is completely divorced from mercy. He knows it would be a slaughter, if Agon decided his teammates were in the way or spending too much time with him and bringing him down, which is really Agon's way of saying that he wouldn't bother noticing them if Sena wasn't there.
But he is, so it's Sena's fault if Agon wants to hurt them for thinking too much of themselves.
So Agon tells Sena that it's his job to distract him, and Sena doesn't mind. Really.
(and mortals must make sacrifices unto the gods)
Because he finally has friends, see? An entire team of them. And he doesn't care what he has to do, so long as he can protect them the way they do for him on the line. He doesn't want to lose them or their dream that they've gone through Hell and back for. This is just… one more obstacle to get around as he heads towards the goal. That's all. It's not that big of a deal.
If it was, he would have told someone, right? And he hasn't. No one needs to know about the way Agon grabs the back of his neck to haul him closer during a kiss, sharp fingernails digging into the tender skin of his throat. The way that Agon sometimes looks at him, eyes hidden and the frown of his mouth displeased, the clenched jaw promising pain if he babbles or looks too long at another person or looks away from Agon for too long or has broken some other rule that Agon never bothered to mention.
It doesn't mean anything.
If it did, the only thing it would mean is that the team was in trouble and that Sena managed to prevent it by saying yes when Agon swooped in and threatened and demanded and took. And Sena did say yes. So.
Agon crushes his mouth against Sena's, the winter of his soul hidden behind tinted glass, and as his tongue parts Sena's lips Deimon's runningback thinks of shattered bones and the prices people pay to stay close to one another. It is never too much to pay.
A/N: So, Agon never gets to be in one of my stories that isn't angsty. He just… I don't know, causes mass doses of angst everywhere he goes. Like if being a teenager was contagious or something.
Now I'm tempted to write something different. Like Don/Sena, which would probably be angsty with plenty of mind screw on the side. Because that's so much better. (Why are my plot bunnies so messed up?)
I'm not sure I really liked this piece, but like I mentioned above, I couldn't shake the idea. Well, I think this is the part where I'm supposed to shamelessly beg/threaten for reviews, so let me know what you think?