Prologue

"Denzel?" Squall walked into his lover's apartment, a small smile lighting his face at the smell of Denzel's perfume. Squall's brown, silky hair fell to his shoulder in endearing chocolate tresses that made a person want to run his hands through, and his silver eyes glittered with the full moon that shone so bright through large glass window in the living room.

Pulling off his jacket, Squall hanged it by the door, throwing his head back slightly to smooth his hair away from his face.

"Denzel?" Walking into the salon, Squall frowned.

Three Vodka bottles rested there…three empty Vodka bottles.

"Denzel?" Squall glared at his older lover as Denzel walked into the salon, "Squall…" he groaned.

"Denzel! I told you not to drink! Since when are you planning on drinking yourself to oblivion! I remember telling you never to call me when you are in such a sorry state."

Denzel looked dazed and lost, smiling groggily.

"Don't smile like that! I'm going home. Call me when you regain your senses." Squall turned to leave but a figure was blocking his way, "You're 16, right? I don't understand how he lets a child berate him."

"Get out of my way. Who are you anyway!" Squall glared at the blonde.

The room was barely lit and all he could make out was a sneer that was suddenly sending chills down his spine.

"I'm Brad…the person who asked Denz. To invite you here."

"Yeah? Well, excuse me but if Denzel was in his right mind he would have told you I hate drunks and drunkards."

"Then why do you stick with him?"

"That is none of your business, now get out of my way." Squall wanted to brush past Brad, but the man just stood there, his arms outstretched, taking up all the space.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I want you." Brad smirked.

"Go to hell." Grey eyes glittered with anger and he searched for another way out, but they both knew there was no other door leading out.

"Are you also drunk?" Squall backed up a step.

"Nope. I didn't drink a drop, just got your lover drunk into a stupor and then told him to call you. I'm just as sane as you are."

"I don't think so, get away form me."

Brad looked crazed as he lunged forward and grabbed Squall, strength and size on his side.

"Let go of me you bastard! Who the fuck are you anyway!"

"I'm Denzel's friend. But now…to you…I'm going to be much much more." Brad cooed before pressing his lips to Squall's, sucking lightly on them.

Squall growled low in his throat before kicking his aggressor in the shin, stunning him momentarily. Brad roared and snatched a fistful of Squall's hair, pulling him to the guest-bedroom.

The brunet screamed for Denzel, but that man had already fallen into a deep sleep, his raven hair falling over his eyes, making him look like an angel.

Pulling out handcuffs form his back pocket, Brad snickered, "You really should have opened up when I was in a better mood, no I am angry."

"Fuck you!" Squall cried as Brad grabbed his wrists and chained to the bedpost.

"Yes, my darling angel, you will."

Squall's eyes were wide with horror that his mind had not yet conceived…he was being raped…in his lover's house!

Brad shed his clothes and stood like an avenging demon by the bed, "Denz. talks about you a lot. Now, bless me with your body…let me make you mine…wipe away all my sins with your soft, ivory skin which had been touched by and Angel."

"Get away form me! Where do you think you are? In a damn confessional!" tears were threatening to spill. The brunet was helpless and he knew it.

Brad pulled out a knife from his pants, turning to rip Squall's clothes instead of bothering to pull them off.

"Don't cry like that. Show me a good time. You are not a child."

"No." Squall closed his eyes, trying to think of anything but what was being done to his body.

But how can he ignore the caresses that he was forced to endure. His body was betraying him. Even Brad knew that. Squall was ready and aroused form a few kisses and touches in the right places.

"Look at you. You are naïve. You are just a child." Brad's eyes were clouded with lust as he bent to nibble on the brunet's inner thigh, smiling at the way Squall involuntary bucked his hips. Brad's hands were already exploring his opening, preparing it for what was to come.

"Denzel." Squall moaned.

Brad sneered and plunged into him, "God, you are so tight!"

"Denzel!" Squall cried.

The blonde thrusted into him, "Stop calling him, it's dimming my passion and making me angry."

Squall closed his eyes, his body tense, his heart heavy, and his lover's name became a litany on his lips…

-

Denzel's head hurt painfully and the moment he got up he knew something was terribly wrong. He had been drunk, that was damning enough.

Squall was surely gonna give him a long lecture if he found out. but there was something else bothering him, well, given, he was sleeping on the couch in the salon, but something else caught his eye…Squall's jacket hanged by the door.

"Squall?" the house seemed eerily silent at that moment.

Denzel brushed back his waist-length black hair and walked to the guest room, wondering if Squall had decided to come and sleepover. He had no memories of the past night, probably because he had drunk a lot.

Squall opened his eyes as his lover walked in, "Denzel! You un-cuff me right now! This is the last time you see me! I'm warning you! I'll kill you!"

Denzel walked over to the bed, seeing Squall's bruised body, "I didn't…I couldn't have…"

Squall glare at him, tears forming in his eyes, "Of course it wasn't you…Denzel, the keys must be in those pants…un-cuff me I beg you."

The brunet was shaking uncontrollably, his heart beating wildly. He wasn't even sure if he could manage to walk on his own, but he knew he just wanted to get away form here.

Denzel bent to look for the keys, but he couldn't seem to think straight, "It couldn't have been me!"

Squall closed his eyes as Brad walked into the room behind them, "Really? If I wasn't mistaken, no one put a gun to your head and ordered you to call him here."

Denzel whirled around, "Brad!"

"Ah, yes."

"Who's Brad!" Squall cried.

"He's a colleague of mine…but I never introduced him to you!"

"Ha! Your colleague and I got a little too deeply acquainted last night." Squall closed his eyes and took a deep breath. How was e being sarcastic at such a moment, "Denzel, where are the keys."

"Right here." Brad held them up, throwing them to Denzel.

"What is going on!" Denzel asked, the keys slipping from his fingers, landing by his feet.

"Denzel, un-cuff me now, ask questions later!" Squall moaned.

"Heh, maybe if you would drink less you would know what the hell goes on under your own roof. Last night, I decided to taste a little bit of the heaven you always talked about."

"You bastard." Denzel snarled.

"Oh no…it is all your fault. You said yourself that Squall hated it when you drank but you persisted to drink anyway, and also I merely suggested you call Squall, as I said I didn't hold a gun to your head…basically even if I did you were too drunk to realize you would have been in trouble then."

"Denzel…the cuffs please!"

Brad walked past Denzel, splaying his hand on one of the bruises he had inflicted to Squall's navel last night.

Denzel stood frozen for a minute before he walked out of the room.

Squall had tears in his eyes, "Denzel! Don't leave me!"

"Oh…He left." Brad chuckled against the brunet's ear, which he had discovered, in his little escapade the night before, was sensitive.

Denzel walked back in, aiming a gun at Brad, "Get away form him."

Squall's grey eyes widened and he sighed in relief. Denzel walked closer and bent to pick up the keys, and that was the opportunity Brad was waiting for.

In one swift motion he kicked the gun out of the raven-haired man's hands, catching it in midair and took aim…the shot was the loudest thing Squall had ever heard in his life…