A/N: A little overdue Agon x Hiruma for Mayuzu. One-shot for now.

Haven't been writing anything for ES21 for a while. Here goes. Probably a bit OOC.

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There was something about the night that made everything seem more perilous. With the absence of the sun's light, the wan moon's glow and flickering streetlights did little to fight against the shadows that reigned over the concrete jungles of the city. Strangers seemed to be more malevolent; acquaintances, less trustworthy. Men were turned into beasts that preyed upon all those who dared to enter this realm of black and white. You were either strong or weak, and in turn either predator or prey.

At this late hour, a lion was stalking through the narrow alleyways, and the bloodlust shone bright in the eyes hidden behind violet lenses. His great mane of hair was bound into dreadlocks, and every step indicated an arrogance that was not completely unfounded. A bag hung from his shoulder easily, swinging with those powerful strides.

Kon Agon reveled in his power as he strolled down the street.

A scuffling sound attracted his attention as he looked to his right.

"Aah?"

A group of burly men came into view, creeping from the darkest niches like hyenas going after their prey. They all sported heavy scarring and garish tattoos, and bristled with weapons that ranged from metal bats to long planks with nails embedded in the tip. Overall, they were not the kind of men that you'd take home to meet your mama.

"We're here to get our revenge after what you did to the rest of our gang, you bastard," one of them hissed. He must have been the leader. His neck was so wide that it looked like his head was perched on a mountain of muscles, and he spat derisively. "Looks like you're outnumbered." The other men grinned in anticipation as they gripped their weapons more tightly. Somehow, after seeing their comrades on the ground with their faces literally pushed into their skulls, it took a lot of nerve to face this guy.

Agon looked down, scraping a bit of mud off of his shoes. "So, what are you going to do about it, you pile of trash?"

The man facing him glared and growled, "Let's fuck him up." He charged, swinging the heavy iron pipe he hefted easily in one hand. When the pipe was mere inches from slamming into his face, Agon sidestepped easily and gripped the pipe in one hand, effectively stopping the man on his tracks. The gang leader trembled with the exertion of holding the pipe against Agon's own grip.

"Is that all you've got? This is hardly worth my time," Agon said softly, as the hard iron began to collapse under his grip. "I've got an appointment to keep, so unless you want to join the other trash in the gutter, then get out of my way."

The man hissed and abruptly let go of the pipe, moving under it to swing for an uppercut. There were cries of "Get him with that famous fist of yours, Aki!"and "Show 'im who's boss!" from the other men. The so-called Aki grinned as he felt his hand hit solid flesh, but screamed in pain as he felt his hand being crushed under the grip of Agon's other hand.

It took all of thirty seconds for Aki to be utterly crushed, and another five minutes to chase down and smash the others.

Agon shook his shirt out roughly and sighed when he saw the blood that had splattered on it after he had punched the men a little too zealously. "Damn, I forgot to bring a spare…" he growled to himself as he continued on his original course. "I doubt he'll mind, though." He shifted the bag over his shoulder, checking to make sure that its contents hadn't been ruffled during the fracas.

He walked on, undisturbed as those who would try and pick a fight were dissuaded by the blood that stained his otherwise crisp white shirt. He stopped outside of a large, nondescript building with a line of entrances on the ground floor. He raised an eyebrow as he took in the details—an almost complete absence of windows, doors from which clients could come and go in secrecy, seedy-looking men accompanied by scantily-clad women…

A love hotel? he thought incredulously, looking around at the other buildings. He pulled a small slip of paper that had been torn out of a notebook with the address. It was correct. He sighed, and read the rest of the instructions on the note. "Go through the second door to the left…check," he muttered, pushing the door open and entering a hallway lined with automated tellers and equipped with an elevator at the end. "Next, punch the following numbers into the third machine and then enter the elevator…" Agon growled in frustration as he boarded the elevator, which 'dinged' softly as he entered and began to play the most sickening elevator music he'd ever heard. He supposed it could have been arousing, for someone with less brain cells than a banana slug.

When the elevator stopped at the top floor, he raised an eyebrow. "Penthouse, huh?" He strolled into the spacious apartment and looked around. It was all dark, save for a dim light that glowed from the monitor of a laptop. Agon's head whipped around as he searched in the darkness in vain for the owner of said laptop.

Agon heard the slight padding sound of feet in socks on the hardwood floor, and he turned around expecting to face him with a glare. He blinked when no one was there.

Long fingers pulled off his sunglasses while another hand began to explore his body. Agon felt around in the darkness until he found the slim body that had been teasing him in the darkness.

"Where's the damned light?" he hissed, hands reaching in the air while trying to find the elusive switch. He heard someone chuckle, and picked up the other person bridal style. "I'm going to drop you wherever I think the bed is, unless you tell me where the lights are." When there was no response, save for the glint of white as the other person grinned, he began walking, dropping his bag on the ground.

Only to stumble and fall on his face when the edge of a mattress hit him in the shins, and he rose, cursing.

"Kekeke, fucking dreads, having trouble there?" a muffled voice cackled from underneath him, and he looked down to see those pearly whites flashing at him again.

"Shut up, Hiruma, and turn on the lights," Agon said, losing patience. "If you don't, I swear…"

Hiruma kept grinning as one hand snaked out to hit a switch. Immediately, the room was flooded with light. "I thought you'd be more comfortable if you didn't actually have to see the room," Hiruma said with a bark of laughter.

The room was definitely not was he was expecting. It was decorated in the style of a dungeon's torture chamber, and racks of whips, candles, and ropes lined the walls. The bed itself was large and covered in fluffy down comforters, and mirrors were positioned in a way so that Agon could see every angle of the bed and its inhabitants. He groaned.

"What kind of kinky shit did you rent out?" he growled, slapping his forehead with one hand.

Hiruma wriggled out from under Agon's heavy body and stretched lazily. "I was going to give you a fucking surprise. You're into this kind of S&M, aren't you?" He paused, stroking the bloodstains on Agon's shirt. "Judging from this, you've already killed some idiot on the way here."

Agon stretched out on the bed, grumbling, "Why do you always have to make this so freaking complicated? Didn't you say that you stayed in a hotel? Which, by the way, I've never been to."

Hiruma didn't answer as he began to unbutton Agon's shirt. Agon waited, then turned and sighed in exasperation. "If you want to be like that, then fine," he said.

Agon promptly flipped a struggling Hiruma over and immediately stripped him of all firearms that could potentially be used as leverage. Once that was done, he ripped Hiruma's shirt off in one sweeping motion and leisurely ran a rough hand down the devil's pale back. Agon grinned when he felt Hiruma involuntarily shudder under his ministrations.

"Let's see what we have here then, hm?" Agon mused, looking around the room as he held Hiruma firmly under one hand. He grinned as he saw a gleaming pair of silver handcuffs winking at him. "Perfect."

Click.

Agon looked down at his handiwork, before diving in.

---

When did it become like this?

Agon's harsh pants were in synch with Hiruma's own groans of pleasure as he thrust roughly into the quarterback.

He had the damned nerve to try and seduce me that night.

Agon felt Hiruma curl under his arms, holding the blond in a tight grip against his chest as he moved up and down.

Or was it me that took him? Probably me.

Hiruma gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain—Fucking dreads didn't even bother to use any lube—and came. He shuddered, feeling Agon shiver as his body tightened around the other man.

Damned trash.

Fucking dreads.

Agon pushed with one last grunt, grinning as he looked around the mirrors and saw Hiruma's red face from every angle. He pulled out with a grimace, leaving the other man's tight orifice reluctantly.

"It's different," Agon muttered, wiping the slight sheen of sweat off of his face. It still startled him to find that sex was so draining, despite his renewed football training.

Hiruma looked up at him, glaring at the other man. "Get the fuck off of me. You're too heavy." When Agon grudgingly rolled over, Hiruma squirmed into a more comfortable position while wincing involuntarily at the strain of the handcuffs. "Now, what the hell are you talking about?"

Agon stared at the ceiling, and Hiruma growled when he thought Agon was ignoring him.

Arrogant bastard.

Then, Hiruma rolled over from his position on his knees and looked at the ceiling, too.

He saw himself staring back. There were mirrors on the ceiling.

Agon looked to the side, stretching lazily. "When you play football, you sweat. Your face gets red from the exertion. You pant, and groan when we beat you, and growl at your teammates." Agon reached over and stroked Hiruma roughly with one hand; Hiruma jumped when he felt the other man groping in particularly sensitive areas. "But you look different after sex. Your cheeks…" A hand moved to one of Hiruma's pale cheeks, and Hiruma was displeased to find that Agon's hands were coated with the remains of their activities. "It's not the same. Your voice…"

"Not getting sentimental on me, are you? You're acting freaking weird, you punk," Hiruma said with a grin, wiping his cheek with one hand while he punched Agon lightly on the shoulder. He sat up, reaching for his pants. "Are we done here?"

"Not so fast. You can't think I'm satisfied from that little appetizer." Agon grabbed Hiruma with both hands by the waist, with a grip that, as Hiruma knew from experience, would leave a few nasty bruises later. Agon's hands massaged Hiruma in a violent rub down, and Hiruma snarled at the ministrations.

"What the fuck are you trying to pull here?" Hiruma hissed, turning around and reaching reflexively for a pistol that was no longer at his hip. Agon grinned as Hiruma scowled.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm taking what's mine," Agon said softly, matter-of-factly.

---

Hiruma looked over at the snoring man sprawled across the bed, one hand splayed possessively across his chest. He moved slightly and winced at the pain that shot through his lower regions and sighed in exasperation.

"You're acting freaking weird tonight," Hiruma muttered. He was used to it being rough and coarse, uncivilized and wild; that's how he liked it. That was why things hadn't worked out with Musashi; the carpenter was surprisingly gentle in bed. Things were never personal with Agon. Hiruma didn't have to worry about getting attached, or about people trying to use Agon to blackmail him. It was always just a satisfactory lay with a man who had the stamina of a bull. There were never any hanging strings left, and afterwards Agon would proceed to play with his girlfriends and Hiruma would go and play with his slaves.

Something had disturbed the other man tonight.

"Oy, Hiruma…" Oh, the lion was awake.

Yeah, something was definitely wrong. Since when did he ever address him by name?

"What?"

A pregnant pause. "Date me."

That was probably it.

"What the fuck?"

Agon lifted his bag from the floor and pulled a long tube from it. "Open it."

Hiruma looked at the other man skeptically. "You know, if you wanted to give me a giant sex toy then you might as well—"

"I said, open it." Agon's voice was low and imperious.

Hiruma slipped the top off of the tube and pulled the contents out.

A black carnation. It must have been red when it blossomed, for there were still streaks of red along the ebony petals.

Hiruma stared. "…am I a fucking girl, or something? Really, flowers?"

"Appreciate it, you bastard. It's a gift. From…me," Agon said, looking as though Hiruma should treat it like gold for that reason.

Hiruma stared at the flower in his hand. "What do I do with it?"

Something seemed to snap in Agon's mentality. "I don't know, put it in a vase or something! Goddamnit, stop being so fucking annoying!"

Hiruma looked at the flower in his hand and at the furious football player.

"Fine. Okay, then."

"Okay, what?"

"…to your last question, you idiot."

"To my—oh. Oh." Agon seemed dumbstruck for a second. "Then you'll…"

"Only if I get to be on top next time."

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A/N: The end is a little weird, huh? I've never written AgonHiru before. I don't think it's a bad pairing but it's hard to do it when both of them are so freaking confident and cocky and stuff.