Summary: It was wrong. Nothing was right. One was the bully and the other was his victim. Somehow that changed. It gradually grew over a short amount of time. However, no matter how you put it, it's wrong. And they don't care.

Psycho Chan's Note: I dedicate this to my missing fancat Prance, who loved HotStreak so much…she'd rub her furry little nubs all over my drawings, smudge them up and ruin anything with HotStreak on it. Oh how I miss the way she'd meow with Twitter Chan and I every time Francis was on TV…she'd join our Fangirl squeal almost every time she wasn't eating or sleeping…I hope she's okay.

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock…reality sucks

Of Bruises and Fists

(Virgil's Point of View)

To be honest. I'm not so sure how it started. F-Stop would not only pick on anybody he damn well pleased, he isn't afraid to get physical. I figured that out a long time ago. I'm not entirely sure why he chose me. Guess I just looked like a stringy geek at the time. Francis wouldn't just bully me. He'd beat me. Beat me bad. I could hardly cover it at home. I really hated lying to my family. Really, I did. But I didn't want anything to happen to me or my friends. If I told someone, Francis would have figured out I was the one who ratted him out. So I kept to myself. I knew I shouldn't have. Especially when he started showing up around me after school. Each time was just another beat down. Sometimes it would just be him, others, he'd bring his crew with him. It was always worse when he was alone. Sure, if he brought his crew they'd hold me down while HotStreak beat me but still…that was it. He'd hit me. When he was alone, he'd talk. Tell me things I didn't want to hear. Things about me being weak. Useless. Unwanted even. After a while, I believed him.

That is, until things got weird. I was walking home from helping out Pops at the community center. I decided to walk. It was a good night and I was always busy with saving people to ever enjoy time to myself. HotStreak stumbled upon me alone. It was awkward to be honest. He just stood there, looking at me. God, it seemed like hours. He just stared at me. I waited, afraid that if I were to run he'd just catch up to me, that if I stayed put, he would just go away. I was wrong on both accounts.

HotStreak did see me, and he did move. He moved slowly, confusing me. Yet I stayed put. He slammed me to the front of a store, the glass rattling a little underneath me. He did that to me a lot. I squirmed less and it was harder for me to get away. But then nothing happened. I opened my eyes to see a pair of cold eyes looking into mine. Francis had green eyes, like, emeralds. They even had a shine to them. I didn't see much because Francis closed his eyes and leaned closer to me.

He kissed me.

HotStreak kissed me. He actually pressed his lips to mine and kissed me.

Before I could even process that, he pulled away, releasing me. Then he walked away.

Things went on like normal though. The man still beat me to a pulp on school property and off school grounds. I'm not sure when things started changing though. One time, he chased me down into an ally with his fireballs, I knew I was headed for a trap. I kept running anyway, trying to find a way to escape. Maybe a locked door I could open using powers of my own. He caught me, only he didn't beat me.

Again, he looked at me. I could see his eyes skim over me, over my cuts and bruises. There was a softness to his eyes…it left me…breathless…confused. The next thing I knew, my shirt was on the ground and HotStreak was kissing every bruise he left on me from the other day. He was on his knees in an ally, pulling my body closer to him as he kissed the dark patches on my lower stomach. Francis Stone. HotStreak…holding me. He did that more and more it seemed. He'd beat me, the next day, kiss every mark on me.

And that was another thing, he'd only kiss me. Whether it was my body or my lips, he'd only kiss me. And like every other time, he'd just leave. With out a word, he'd walk away. But for some reason, I wanted him to stay.

But today…I'm not sure how to even explain it. Today, HotStreak drug me to a warehouse I guess he's living in. Right now, I'm on his bed, and he's doing more than kissing me. He's talking to me, like a lover. He's stripping me. Touching me. And…I'm letting him.

(HotStreak's Point of View)

I have no fuckin' clue how this bullshit started. This caring shit. It ain't me. Especially for a little bastard…I beat the piss out of a lot of people. Somehow, Hawkins was different. He feared me. But he mocked me too. He'd crack a joke, even right before I'd teach him a fuckin' lesson in talkin' back to me. You'd think he'd learn. He never did. I sought him out because he kept things interestin'. You know, whenever I got tired of the whiny fuckers who bawled their eyes out after I just smacked them up a little bit. Hawkins always took it. Never cried once.

And that pissed me off. Drove me up the fuckin' wall. I couldn't make the punk cry. So I tried to talk down at him. Told him how he was a worthless little bitch that not even a whore would want to tap. How he was weak and stupid. How he would never make a difference in anybody's life. He still didn't cry. Not in front of me anyway. God that fuckin' pissed me off. Didn't even beg. Again, he just took it. Guess he wasn't so weak after all.

I don't know what got over me that one night. I was just walkin' around town. I remember my parents arguing about me. About the money I cost them with fines and how I wasn't gonna graduate. Diana told Jay that she should never had came back to him. Not with me around. My mother hated me almost as much as my father did. They hated me because I was just like them. Really, I am. I look and act like Jay. Right down to the red hair stained with blonde. Then they spoke to me. About how I should move out. How I was nothing but a nuisance to them and that I was just trash. Trash that overstayed it's welcome. That shook me a bit. They always argued but never talked to me about it.

On my damn search or a new place to crash, I saw Virgil. The moment we saw each other, we stopped moving forward. I felt as if time stood still as I remembered everything my parents had told me. How much of a fuck up I felt. It hit me then. I told Hawkins he was worthless. I knew it wasn't true. He had a future, friends, a real family…I had…me…that was it. I'll admit I was angry at myself. I shouldn't have slammed him to that store window. I thought for sure it would crack. Then all my anger just sorta vanished when I saw his brown eyes. Darker than his skin. I couldn't look away. They were searching for something deep within me.

I needed to shut him out. Out of his searching through me. I donno why, but I closed my eyes and leaned forward, pressing my lips to his. I actually kissed him. Virgil Hawkins. Absolutely nothing went through my mind at the time. Again, time seemed to have stood still. I felt something inside…something hotter than fire swell up deep within me. I never felt anything like it before. Realizing what I had done, I pulled away from his dark lips and released his shoulders. I couldn't face him. So I just walked away.

I tried to keep things like they were. Beat him down to make him cry. To break him. I tried to put him down but that kiss always sank into my mind. I couldn't make him cry. I didn't want to make him cry. Not anymore anyway. I just needed to, I donno, touch him I guess.

One time I chased his scrawny ass into an ally. I pinned him like I always did, only, I couldn't hit him. I could only see the bruises that I knew I gave him. They claimed his face and I even found one on the base of his neck. But that was all I could see. I had to see more. Unable to stop myself, I pulled his orange sweater over his head, tossing it to the ground. I found more than enough discolored skin. I stared at them, remembering forgotten things about my childhood.

When I was really young, Diana use to care about me. That was before I went to the hospital. Jay beat us at the time, and my mother would kiss my pains away. All the bruises on my face and arms. As a child it worked. Now my pains run too deep. My wounds are invisible and often bleed.

I just gawked at the different shades of color on Hawki-Virgil's skin. He was shivering underneath me. Afraid. Of me. I use to love that. I still do, just not from him. I couldn't help myself. I found myself kissing every bruise I could find. I started on his split lip, moving around his face. He held his breath the entire time. Finally, he gasped when I moved my lips to his neck, nearly forcing him to breath. I couldn't' stop myself. I continued to kiss the marks all around his body. The shivers changed, no longer terrified trembles underneath my lips as I continued. I needed more of him. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him forward into my body. I couldn't get close enough. I just couldn't.

It became addictive. If I beat him, I could touch him later. Feel him, kiss him.

But that isn't enough anymore. I want him to need me because I need him. I need him. I need to be…inside him.

Today, I'm doing just that. Unable to suppress my twisted desire for another man, I gave in entirely. I saw Virgil after school, I simply grabbed his arm and dragged him away. Here. In this warehouse where I've been living since that night I ran away nearly four months ago.

Right this minute, Virgil is underneath me, shivering under my touch like never before. He's letting me fondle him. Letting me strip him. Virgil is letting me see his abused body, touch the body I've battered…the body I regret ever harming…

(Third Person)

Two teen find themselves in each other's company. Two boys who would never have once thought something like this could happen. A bully and his victim. Two boys who hated each other more than anything. Or so they thought.

One of them having hair red as blood with blonde streaks along the spiky hair. His once cold eyes showing a special light neither of them knew existed. His large body hovers over his victim's smaller body, both a little nervous about what will soon happen. Both fully aware, yet, denying it.

The darker boy still finds himself afraid of the older man, even after many displays of…affection. Or lust. The boy fears the difference. Virgil flinches as warm hands lightly rub his marked body. Francis had only kissed him, never actually fondled him. Everything is new to the hero, watching his enemy's every move.

Pale hands glide up his dark chest, over darker patches that stung momentarily as the hand skimmed over it. Virgil looks up to see HotStreak's eyes, which narrowed as he examined the body in his grasp. The boy just laid on the dark sheets, waiting for him to be done. For him to leave like so many times before. Francis didn't want that. He needed Virgil, but he needed Virgil to want him more.

As Francis lowered his head, there was a faint sound above him, one that made the older man stop, craning his neck to see the expression on Virgil's face. The distant look of fear and anxiety. After a few moments, Francis's eyes traveled to those dark, plump lips. He was fixated on tasting them. And he did just that, moving over the smaller body and taking his lips. Again, Virgil just stayed still, waiting.

A ping of anger began to raise in HotStreak. Rejection was something he never was good with. However, losing his cool here was a bad idea. Nothing good would come of it and Francis knew that too well. Trailing his fingertips up Virgil's neck, he tugged the boy's jaw, opening the mouth that refused to take any action.

Allowing this, Virgil gasps, feeling a hot tongue slip into his mouth. It ran over his teeth for a moment, exploring every inch it could touch. The hero was unable to hold in a shiver, attempting to pull his head away, only Francis followed. The older teen continued rubbing his chest as he explored his addiction. His obsession.

Then HotStreak found the raven haired boy's tongue, massaging it with his own. He was rewarded with a small moan on his lips. It was the most beautiful sound the red head had ever heard. However, the boy still rejected him. There had to be a way to get Virgil to want him. Had to be at least one thing. HotStreak just had to find it.

The man continued, winning more moans from Virgil as he memorized his dark body. "Virgil" was nearly moaned, surprising the hero. "I'm sorry." HotStreak pulled away, both men panting faintly. "I lied to you. You're not worthless…" The red head moved his lips to Virgil's neck, kissing unbruised skin, sending not only shivers into him but confusion too. "I need you" is whispered onto the dark skin of the younger teen. More pressure is applied to the kisses, softening every time they go over violet skin.

"H-how?" Virgil arches as HotStreak's loving lips move down his neck over his collar bone.

HotStreak speaks between kisses. "I just do Virgil."

The words and actions were just confusing the raven haired boy more. This doesn't explain anything. "Then why hurt me?"

"I don't know. I don't want to. Not anymore." Francis can't answer Virgil's questions because he does not know himself. Virgil pushes the other man off, sitting up with effort.

"How can you not know?" Virgil sounded as if he were about to cry, but his eyes showed no signs of tears. Just pain.

"I…" HotStreak hesitates. "It's the only way I…can touch you…"

Both remain silent for a moment. Virgil sort of understands this man now. He hurts him so he can touch him…but the question of why he wants to touch him is still unknown. Well, to HotStreak it is. Virgil understands why they are here. It's because they actually like each other. Somehow, they need each other.

Slowly reaching up to Francis, Virgil tilts the man's head up. "Do you know why you need to touch me?"

"No…"

Figures Francis wouldn't know. He is a violent man with a nasty temper. No woman would be crazy enough to date him. Well, good thing Virgil isn't a woman and is crazy enough. "It's okay Francis." Virgil whispers, leaning forward, taking HotStreak's lips for the first time.

Virgil pulled back to see sheer happiness in the man's eyes. Virgil is unable to deny Francis as he lays down, pulling him on top of his unnaturally warm body. The red head is overjoyed by the fact that Virgil was returning his kisses. Virgil even let his hands travel up the other man's chest, up his neck then through the man's short hair.

Both were really unsure how this even happened. How a bully could just fall for his victim and how this victim could just accept those feelings. Virgil was no longer afraid of Francis. Oddly enough, he also needed him as well. They needed each other.

And now, nothing could stop them from seeking each other out.

Virgil pulls off the remainder of their clothes, that being the shirt of the red head over him. Both men pant lightly, heat raising off their bodies which was covered in a thin sheet of sweat. Once the raspberry red cloth was tossed to the ground with the other articles of clothing, HotStreak hesitates, not expecting what was to come.

He had honestly only planned on only touching the boy. He expected Virgil to fight him, hate him. Not accept him, return any caress or even moan underneath him. Though he liked this better, he had never slept with a man before, so there was that awkward hesitation of what to do and how to do it.

Francis looked down at that darker body, shivering in anticipation, cheeks turning a bright pink color, and brown eyes half lidded with an mixture of need and nervousness, he was unable to look away. And he didn't want to.

Catching his breath, Virgil reaches for HotStreak's hand with a shy smile. Francis watched as the younger man brought the pale hand up to his kiss swollen lips, kissing them. Green eyes light up as Virgil opens his mouth, taking in two digits. HotStreak could feel the other man's tongue lick at his fingers, between them as he suckled faintly. The sensation made his cock twitch, especially the was a faint moan on his fingers.

Incapable of waiting another second, the red head removes his fingers form the moist cavern, a thin strand of saliva connecting the two. Wet fingers trail their way down to the raven haired teen's entrance, curving around every sensitive spot found during earlier exploring. The boy beneath him gasps slightly as Francis rubs the tight ring, dipping a digit in slowly.

Embarrassment fills the hero as that finger pushes past his muscles, moving awkwardly within him. The weird feeling wasn't pleasurable or painful, just, there. That is, until a second finger joined the passage, stretching his roughly. If it was one thing that Virgil noticed while he was getting hit, it was that HotStreak had big hands. Two fingers in his entrance was not a small feat to just take in. those fingers moved slowly in an attempt to not further harm Virgil, who hisses in discomfort. He wiggled his hips slightly as his insides were rubbed at, easing his muscles into acceptance. Francis kept massaging the walls of his insides, opening the boy wider.

Then Virgil's hips jerked toward the sensation, towards those fingers. HotStreak had found a spot deep within Virgil that sent lightning through out his blood that had nothing to do with his powers of electricity. One finger drew across that spot again, longer and unevenly. The spot that made a burning heat scattering through out the hero's smaller body.

Seeing the boy arch off the bed, clutching the sheets in his fist tightly, Francis needed to see more of that look. Pressing again, harder, deeper, Virgil's hips yanked toward his hand once more trying to drive him deeper. Thrusting his fingers harder, Francis pushed his fingers to the first knuckle, sliding out of the boy only to plunge back into his depths.

Just as Virgil thought he couldn't take the sensation burning his body, Francis removed his fingers. The mocha skinned teen opened his eyes, panting once more. He watched Francis get into position between his legs, rubbing the tip of his cock to his wrinkled entrance. Francis's cock was dripping with precum, making it easier for him as he slowly sank himself into Virgil.

Virgil clamped his eyes shut as the feeling of being entered could only be described as being pried open. HotStreak was slowly plunging in and Virgil was crying out with every searing inch. Francis was not a small man.

With a final rocking motion, Francis was fully sheathed with in Virgil and paused, allowing the other boy to adjust to the intrusion, which Virgil was thankful for. With a short thrusting motion, Francis had Virgil seeing stars behind his eyes. The friction of the movement was taunting, the steady heat of the arousal inside him was addicting. The fire powers coursing through him in a way he never thought possible.

The thrusting drove Virgil mad as he legs were opened by a pair of experienced hands to make room for his large body as he continued to sink into him. Virgil grasps into the man's shoulders, arching underneath him. His moans flowed out of his open mouth as pain had left him, filling him with a burning sensation of absolute pleasure. Virgil gasped, each inward pass nudging against that little bundle of nerves made him roll his eyes. Especially when the pyrokinetic man picked up speed, driving in with an intensity that had Virgil shouting, screaming. With such fierceness and more powerful until Francis could not distinguish one cry from the next.

Virgil screamed louder, clawing anything he could get his hands on, whether it was flesh or cloth. Francis hit that spot so perfectly, he thought he was on fire, he thought he might be considering who it was that was in him. Pleasure shocked Virgil's body and sent him into convulsions as he did the best he could to meet the thrusts that he was sure was bruising him. Spinning out of control, Virgil came, leaving a mess on Francis's abdomen.

Then he clenched around the older teen, dragging HotStreak deeper. HotStreak seized, liquid heat rushed into him and even dripped out of him. The man pulled out with a slick sound, laying next to Virgil, who was panting desperately for air. HotStreak panted to but more composed than him.

Both men laid in bed for a while, coming down from the sexual high and gathering their feelings on this. Virgil's body shudders, cum still cooling on his skin. Both were sweating, their bodies warmer than before, hotter than ever. The young hero opened his eyes, turning his head to see a pair of green eyes looking at him, lovingly.

Everything was falling into place while at the same time, getting more scrambled. Ignoring his gut instinct that told him to leave, Virgil instead leaned forward, planting a neat kiss on his tormentor's lips, which was returned with a great passion. HotStreak pulled the darker boy closer, wrapping his arms around his body. Holding him tightly, not wanting to let him go. "Stay with me…"

Virgil blushes at the sound of that. He was Francis's arms, being coveted like never before. The man who called him worthless trash was embracing him. Needing him. Loving him even. There was warmth here, almost like a kindling of fire that didn't burn him. Virgil felt as if it never would. He felt safe as much as wanted. Something he was never blessed with before, and neither was Francis. Both faced rejection almost everyday, HotStreak more so.

Shyly, Virgil wrapped his thin yet muscular arms around the larger man, nuzzling the crook of his neck. "Only if you stop hurting me…"

"Virgil," the man holds him closer, if possible. "I'll protect you." He feels light kiss on his skin.

"I'd stay even if you didn't stop…" Virgil blushes, settling down as is tired body gets the best of him.

HotStreak loosens his hold as the body in his arms falls asleep. He nuzzles the raven hair which is damp from the heat and sweat. Letting himself fall asleep as well, the man whispers softly into the cooler air. "I couldn't hurt you if I tried to."