In Lust

It comes again... the state I love and hate

It comes again... I am lost yet I have faith

I'm so high on you

The nature of you is to keep on fulfilling the need

The nature of me is to drown with the next defeat

Poisonblack, 'In Lust'

~o~

"Trying to be pushy even though you're the loser?"

As Shiki brought his face closer, his hot breath ghosting over Akira's cheek, the youth's resignation to die if he had to, but never beg for his life warred with the strange and confusing feelings he had resolved to forget after his first encounter with the strange fighter in black. Staring at those crimson eyes, he felt the same desire, intense and disorientating.

"Dogs should be like dogs and just bark." Shiki tightened his grip on Akira's neck and the boy gasped, though not only due to the lack of oxygen. It jolted him to the core to see his lust reflected in the dark man's eyes and hear the almost imperceptible speeding up of his breathing, and he lifted his hand weakly, almost unconsciously, trying to reach for that terrible, merciless, mesmerising face.

"If you were to cry and beg for forgiveness, I may change my mind about killing you." The soft voice in his ear sent shivers through Akira's body, and even as he struggled to breathe, his blood thrummed a sharp staccato when Shiki pressed against him, all taut muscle and searing heat. To his mortification, he felt himself harden, responding to the primal carnality radiating from his opponent. Anger at his weakness gave him enough strength to make another attempt to throw Shiki off, pitiful as it was. He found himself pressed against the wall once more in less than a second.

"What arrogant eyes you have."

Akira had to fight – fight against this illogical, mad, and overwhelming desire to press against Shiki, to savour his hot breath over his face, and feel those cruel, severe lips crush on his. He gathered what little strength remained in him and, using the arms pinning him to the wall as support, he brought his knees up and kicked hard against Shiki, the force of the impact landing him on his backside. His abused body would not obey him in the attempt to rise to his feet and he fell forward, but the sound of the approaching footsteps mobilised him into sitting up and grasping at his knife.

"As if I'd be a dog..." He aimed the weapon at the man in black, determined to fight to the last, even as the approaching figure made his entire being yearn – for what, he did not want to know, did not want to admit.

"Hm." Shiki sounded almost amused. "We'll play again when you're in better shape." And, just like that, he turned his back to Akira and retreated, picking up his katana from where he had stuck it in the ground.

Irrationally, Akira's sigh held more frustration than relief. And then came a revelation – Shiki had left him alive, again. The man who waded in the blood of his slain enemies had him pressed to the wall, completely at his mercy for the second time – and yet he let him live. Why? Could it be because his desire was as strong as Akira's?

~o~

Shiki was Il Re. Shiki was Il Re, and he had let him rescue Rin, had not gone after him. Akira's confusion grew, but it was not the time to think about the man in black. He had to take care of his friend. Yet, even as he spoke of trust and belief, a pair of crimson eyes haunted his mind. He hated himself for that weakness, hated the part of him which did not want to leave Toshima for the sole reason that he was there. What spell had the madman cast over him? Would it ever wear off?

~o~

"Come..." The softness of Shiki's voice had drawn Akira like a mindless moth, but he had fought against it, against the fierce pull in his very blood. And then – then the impossible had happened, the meaningless madness that Keisuke's murder was. Oh, how he wanted to hate his slayer! And he did – for those brief minutes while he held his dying friend in his arms, he hated Shiki with his entire being, the spell over him broken by the sight of the dear face slowly losing the spark of life.

Akira wanted to believe he still had that hate, that his attraction for the dark murderer was gone. So why did he go back, again and again? Why did he fight Shiki, when he knew he could never, ever win? He kept telling himself it was only revenge that drove him, yet a perverse thrill ran through him every time he saw those crimson eyes, that cruel mouth. The way it made him feel alive more than anything he'd ever experienced sickened him afterwards, but it was always there, the pull that called him, that drove him to seek his dark enemy, the yearning that only abated in Shiki's presence.

~o~

There was no reason for it, but as they fought again and again their katanas gradually gave way to hand-to-hand combat, and Akira couldn't help noticing that Shiki restrained himself from using his new-found power, and let their encounters go on longer and longer before striking the inevitable winning blow. Did the dark man feel the same thrill when their skin touched? Did the sensation of the blood pulsing under his fingers as he gripped Akira's throat arouse him just as much? And then, one day, Shiki whispered in his ear, even as black-gloved fingers tightened around his windpipe, "You do realise why you keep coming to me, don't you? Your blood drives you to me, just as mine pulls me to you. You are mine, forever."

"Screw... you..." Akira gasped, commanding his body to obey him, willing his pulse to stop the mad cadence of desire. And then Shiki's lips curled in a sarcastic smirk, before descending onto his with bruising ferocity while his body flattened Akira's against the wall so he could feel the muscles moving underneath the black fabric, and the unmistakeable hardness pressing on his own arousal.

"Far be it from me to deny you that wish." And the mouth which had momentarily parted from his to murmur those words resumed its assault. Tongue battled with tongue and hands uncovered fevered skin, even as Akira gasped, "Let go of me..."

"Fine." Shiki suddenly released him and moved back, crimson eyes staring at defiant grey ones. Then a hand in black rose, and long fingers ghosted over pale cheekbones, through messy silver locks of hair, finally skimming over lips which fought to stay tightly pressed. As the hand fell down, those lips parted to exhale softly.

"It's the only time I will give you a choice." The hand rose once again, upturned palm waiting patiently.

Akira closed his eyes. What was there, at the bottom of the precipice? He took a deep breath, and dove in the suspended darkness, because, really, was there anything else he could do? With Shiki's touch branded on his skin he knew he'd finally lose himself in the fire consuming his entire being, unless he gave in to it. No – that was not true. He was lost to it either way. The only choice was between fading away all alone and sharing a madman's emptiness.

~o~

The dark, austere room held only a bed and a small table with a hard wooden chair beside it. Thick dust covered all the surfaces, bearing witness to the fact that the place had not been used in a long while, but the sheets underneath the crimson blanket had a clean, albeit slightly musty smell.

"And now, another battle begins," a voice whispered in Akira's ear, as hands undressed him slowly, bare fingers sliding under his defences, burning them. He turned around, suddenly overcome with the need to tear the black armour off the body pressed against his back. Hazily, he heard a chuckle, which became a gasp when his hands passed over warm skin, over velvet hardness. Then the battle began. Desire. Skin on skin, teeth biting, lips soothing, hands exploring. The yearning inside him growing so fast he thought it would drive him mad. White-hot pain following, mixed with exquisite pleasure.

Akira had not known what to expect from that moment. He could not have imagined the overwhelming assault on his senses, and the contradicting emotions it brought. Then there remained only building tension, the sound of Shiki's increasingly ragged breathing, and moans he vaguely recognised as coming from his own lips. And, in the end, the hand around his arousal speeding up in time with the suddenly erratic thrusts that reached for his very core, a single husky groan, muffled in his shoulder – and ecstasy pulsing in wave after wave through his entire being.

"Sh-Shiki!"


A.N. I have no rights over Togainu no Chi whatsoever. Neither have I any rights to the wonderful translation of the anime done by the fangroup gg or the official DVD's translators from Malaysia - whichever came first. I own only this humble one-shot, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If that's the case, I must humbly beg you to leave a little token in the review box ;P After all, that's the only indicator I have that you've liked it. No reviews make me think it must not be good enough :(