Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Square-Enix, or Disney. The characters and places used belong to their respective owners and universes.

-Modelos-

-Chapter 3-

-There Were Raised Black Outlines-

It had been raining for the past few days, making the eternal night skies of the city even darker than they already were. The streets were littered with puddles, water traveling in heavy streams down the edges of sidewalks towards awaiting drains. But it was a typical scene for the city, so the citizens went about their busy lives with little care regarding the pouring rain. It was in this weather that Sora and Vanitas had ventured towards the north and were currently finishing up with an early dinner at a restaurant the two liked to frequent whenever possible. Sora glanced over the rim of his water glass, watching as Vanitas took the last bite of his food and settling the fork down with a soft clink. A pretty middle aged waitress stopped by their table and placed a slip of paper face down as she picked up the two empty plates.

"Let me know if I can get you anything else."

She offered them a smile and turned on her heel, returning to her other duties and leaving the two brothers in the corner of the restaurant. Vanitas cocked his head to the side, watching how Sora was preoccupied with the television screen hanging over the bar area. He didn't bother to turn around and see what had his brother so mesmerized. Sora's eyes told him everything.

"What are you thinking?"

Sora's vision broke away from the screen, a model walking down a long white runway. He ran his tongue over the healing scab on his bottom lip, a physical reminder of an early morning tryst with the dark haired man sitting across from him just a few days ago.

Vanitas was pressed against him, whispering into his ear as a hand gripped him, forcing guttural sounds from Sora's throat. The familiar taste of blood was strong in his mouth, coppery and metallic with the lightest, lingering traces of tobacco. He bucked forward and gasped against Vanitas' neck.

Sora shook his head, falling back to the present and shrugging his shoulders at his brother.

"Nothing important."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, why do you sound surprised?"

Vanitas placed a hand on the table, tapping the glossy surface with a finger.

"I've been watching you this entire time."

"Your point being?"

"Don't play this game with me Sora."

The brunet sighed as he slouched back in his chair. "I'm not. I told you it's nothing important."

"Whatever, you ready to go then?"

Sora nodded slightly. "Yeah, I'm done."

The twins got up from their seats with Vanitas pulling out a few bills from his pocket and leaving it on top of the receipt on the table. They walked past the hostess stand, but not before Sora had one last look at the runway show on the television screen. The sight of silver hair caused his lungs to constrict. Vanitas took a hold of Sora's arm and pulled him out into the cold, wet streets.

"Alright, I have some people I need to see and get the stuff for tonight," the raven haired man said.

"I'm heading east, gonna visit the shop."

"Okay," Vanitas replied with a nod, "we'll meet up at that address I gave you at 11 o'clock."

Vanitas waited for a pair of people to walk by before giving Sora a quick peck on the lips.

"See ya then. Don't let him hurt you too much."

Sora was left to his own thoughts as Vanitas disappeared around the street corner. He looked at the bit of writing his brother had left him on a piece of paper, the address to a new client the two would be seeing later that night. The way Vanitas was going on about it, the place was more than likely a party and that could only mean one thing. The twins were going to be playing pharmacist to the guests at this particular event. Catering to people wasn't unusual, therefore Sora was not surprised. The brunet gripped his coat closer to him, the cold biting and prickling his skin. He looked upwards, the clouds breaking apart slightly and allowing the stars to peak through.

"At least it stopped raining."

It was 6 in the afternoon and with the party that night the only thing to worry about, Sora had the next five hours to travel east to see his tattoo artist in order start a new project. That was what the eastern part of the city was known for, the trendy artsy galleries, bohemian coffee shops, and tattoo shops by the dozens. Whenever Sora could, that was where he liked to spend his time. It was safer than the south, yet didn't have that same stuffy arrogant atmosphere as the north. He needed a few hours to himself as the place that he and Vanitas would be at that night would be full of nothing less than those same rich socialites that liked to look at him as if he was the most worthless thing on the planet. But hey, they were the ones with the highest demand, what could he do? Suck it up, just suck it up.

Sora spent the next few minutes finding the nearest subway station and boarded his train. This time around, as he traveled east, there was no silver haired man sitting across from him. His mind went back to the restaurant, watching the screen as Riku walked down that long white runway. Sora shook his head in an attempt to purge the images, but all it managed to create in the end was a dull pain in the middle of his forehead. Sora pressed a hand against it, willing it away.

Before long, Sora was walking out of the train and up the flight of stairs leading out onto the streets. Immediately he was met by the strong scent of coffee. He didn't have to walk but a few blocks before he stopped in front of a brightly lit window, the neon signs casting a soft glow on him. With a soft push on the handle of the shop door, Sora walked inside and was assaulted with the pulsating beat of electronic music.

"Hey, hey, if it isn't Sora."

There was a red haired man at the counter, his elbows supporting his head as he welcomed the brunet into the shop. His hair was shorter on the sides, and the back pulled into a ponytail. A single streak of red marked both his cheeks, a trademark design that people knew him by. Sora couldn't help but feel comfortable around the man.

"It's been a while Reno."

"I know, it has," Reno replied motioning for Sora to come up to him. "You ready for more ink?"

"That's why I'm here. Care to help?"

Reno chuckled. "Anytime for you man, just tell me what ya want and we'll get to work."

Perhaps it was Reno's carefree attitude that Sora liked so much. He wasn't cocky like many other artists in the east and always seemed genuinely interested in what Sora had to say. He was a good seven or so years older than him, but he exuded young energy which at times Sora admitted was a bit overwhelming. Better too much than too little.

"Just free hand it like last time, I trust you," Sora replied.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I want to do my right side."

Reno closed one eye and winced. "Oof, Sora, are you sure? The ribs are just as nasty to tattoo as your chest."

"After finishing my chest, I'm sure I can handle it."

The red haired man threw his hands in the air. "Okay bud, I warned ya."

The next hour Sora found himself lying on a black reclining chair with Reno sketching out a design directly onto his skin with sharpie markers. Many artists worked with stencils, but Reno was excellent at free-handing and this method felt much more organic. It allowed him a larger window of opportunity to be creative. Granted, it was more time consuming, but Sora didn't mind.

With the outline sketched out, taking a similar route in the terms of design to the one on his chest, this was incorporating a biomechanical theme. It was made to look as if a robotic male figure with root-like wires coming out of him was attempting to rip out of Sora's flesh. From Reno's standpoint, it wasn't too shabby of a job the design he had managed to come up for his young client. With his tools at his side, the redhead put on a pair of black latex gloves and was ready to start layering in the ink. Sora let out a breath.

"Go for it."

His teeth were gritted and eyes shut tight. The numbing sounds of buzzing filled his ears, a fiery pain digging itself into his side. Sora gripped the shirt fabric over his shoulder as another round of that buzzing passed over his side.

"Didn't I tell you the ribcage sucks?"

"Thanks Reno, heard you the first time," he replied with a grunt.

There was a laugh from the older man, his tongue flicking out at Sora in a teasing manner.

"I warned ya."

Sora's skin was red and raw, blemished by the stains of black ink Reno had been wiping away with a paper towel. He had been in that chair for the better part of two hours now, and it would be at least another half hour of torture before the outline to his new tattoo was done. It was becoming harder and harder to keep still, something that was crucial when going through a process such as this.

"Don't move, almost done here."

When the buzzing of the gun went quiet, Sora knew they were finished. Reno took a paper towel and soaked it in a soapy solution before dragging it along Sora's side, forcing a long hiss out of him.

"Fuck, rub some salt on it while you're at it Reno."

There was a devilish grin on the redhead's lips. "I'm not the one that wanted my ribs tattooed, stop with the whining."

"I don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't."

"Ha ha, thanks."

"Get up and take a look in the mirror."

His entire body was numb and his side was throbbing. Sora walked over to the full length mirror on the opposite side of the room and turned sideways. Immediately a smile played itself across his face as he traced the raised black outlines with his eyes. It went from just below his underarm down to the pelvic line. The root-like wires Reno did were absolutely amazing. Sora was beyond pleased.

"Wait until we start coloring."

There was a scoff from Sora. "I think I'll wait on that. For a while at least."

Reno rubbed a gel over the raw flesh and bandaged Sora up. He didn't have to go over the aftercare as the brunet knew the routine by now. Sora looked over at the clock and noticed it was getting closer to ten o'clock. With the ride back to the north, he'd be making it just in time to meet up with Vanitas before going to the party the two were going to be "catering". Sora handed Reno the money owed for the session and put his jacket back on, hissing the entire time at the added pressure of the fabric against his skin. Reno attempted a half hug, but stopped when Sora let out a gasp.

"We'll catch up again soon," Reno added.

"For sure, thanks Reno."

The redhead winked at him, watching as Sora disappeared out of the shop. He was completely exhausted at this point and the night was far from over. One would think that sitting in a chair wouldn't be tiring, but it was the complete opposite. But there was something almost therapeutic about the pain. Like drugs, it was addicting and created a sort of high that was craved more and more. It was an endorphin rush, and as much as Sora liked to give Reno a hard time about it, he found comfort in that excruciating pain.

Sora heard his cell phone ringing and glanced at the number staring back at him. It didn't look familiar to him, but he swerved his thumb over the touch screen and placed the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?"

-XXXXX-

Ah, Chaos. Such was the atmosphere behind the last runway of the day, and thus putting an end to a very long week for Riku.

The moment he touched down in Esthar, Riku was whisked away to meet up with the designers for garment fittings and to do practice walks before the official runway presentations in the massive white tents pitched throughout the entire technologically advanced city. Very little time was spent in his hotel room as he was attending mandatory night industry parties. Just one of the many things he did as a model, be the face of his agency. Riku was lucky to get more than four hours of sleep a night.

Roxas didn't help the situation. He was right alongside him, as he would be walking in the same shows. He did his best to ignore the blonde, but again, he was the face of the agency and he had to appear as if he got along with Roxas for the sake of publicity. His dirty habit with drugs didn't stop in The World That Never Was. Roxas had absolutely no trouble finding fellow models and industry people more than willing to share their supply of narcotics with him. Riku had no idea how the blonde was functioning when he was getting even less sleep than him. But, that wasn't his problem, he didn't know why he should give a shit.

"Alright people! Two more minutes, get in your spots."

Riku opened his eyes to see his reflection staring back at him. The make up artist applied so much foundation and powder on his face he could barely move his cheeks. Perhaps that's what Kuja, the designer, wanted from everyone in his show. Lifeless dolls . And by the looks of everyone else all scrambling to get into place, they sure looked like dolls. Riku got up from his seat and walked over to the front of line. He would be opening the show, something that Kuja had him doing since his first Esthar Fashion Week four years ago. He had on skin tight red pants, an assortment of useless belts criss-crossing across his crotch. An open organza shirt with what seemed like hundreds of cream colored ruffles covered his neck and made it somewhat difficult to see in front of him. Kuja was known for being avant garde and over the top, a perfect match to his flamboyant personality. And speak of the devil, there he was. Kuja, dressed in what looked like a dress and covering very little of his front, came up to Riku and did the typical double cheek kiss.

"Ah! Riku, you look just fabulous!"

The silver haired model nibbled on his lip, tasting the slightly sweet gloss. "Thanks Kuja, great collection this season."

"Oh, my dear, thank you! I could not have anybody else but you opening my show."

Riku could see out of the corner of his eye that Roxas, who happened to be quite in the back, was not happy seeing the way Kuja was hanging all over him. That pouted lip and narrowed eyes, it said it all. The runway organizer motioned for Riku to walk up to the partition and he followed his lead, the thumping sound of trance music echoing around him. Riku ran a quick hand through his hair and with a countdown from the organizer, not to mention a wave from Kuja, walked out onto the runway.

There was a sea of people and the flashing of what seemed like a million different cameras. Riku effortlessly made his way down the runway, his hair wafting slightly with an imaginary breeze. He never looked to the sides, always concentrating on the end of the stage as he approached it. The silver haired model placed a hand in his pocket and cocked his head to the side, the mound of ruffles around his neck billowing softly. Riku offered the cameraman a slight smirk before turning on his heel and walking back up the runway. He turned once more towards the front and stepped back behind the partition. Riku let out a sigh.

He watched through a monitor as the show carried on, lasting an entire seven minutes as 25 more models walked out. All this running around, all that time in hair and make-up for a few measly minutes. It was traditional for one final walk with the entire group, so Riku remained close to the partition, waiting for the signal from the organizer before strutting out one last time. There was applause, more flashing of the cameras, and brief cameo by Kuja for the audience in attendance to see before he was officially done.

The ruffled organza shirt was the first to come off the moment Riku walked behind the scenes. But for the media, they were just getting started as they began pouring in to interview the designers, celebrities and models. Roxas being the attention whore that he was, already snatched the microphone away from a reporter, much to her dismay.

Riku answered whatever questions were asked of him, but for the most part, he was left alone as he sat in a chair wiping away at his face with a warm, wet towel. Clad in his regular street clothes, Riku figured he'd head back to his hotel room and finally get some rest before his flight back the following day. If all went according to plan, he wouldn't have to deal with anyone else for the rest of the afternoon. He grabbed his bag and made to get up when Roxas stopped him in his tracks.

"Any plans for our last night?"

"Uh, not really. Figured I'd get some sleep."

"That's no fun, come with me to Kuja's after party."

Riku shook his head. "I'm sorry, don't want to."

"Not even for a little while?"

"Go with some of the people you met the other night."

Roxas scratched the back of his head. "Well, I kinda want to spend some time with just you"

"You have Roxas. We've been together at every agency party since we got here."

"That's not what I meant Riku."

Oh lord. Here it came again. Riku took a swig from his water bottle. "I don't know what to tell you."

"Why is it so easy for you to flat out say no?"

Riku pulled a strand of silver hair out of his face. "You aren't serious?"

"Yes I am! Every time I ask you to do something you completely dismiss me."

The older model was feeling that familiar pain in his temples. "I don't know how clearer I can be with you Roxas. So I'll be perfectly blunt. I don't like you."

The blonde model clicked his tongue, his words failing him. Riku shrugged his shoulders and took another sip from his water bottle. Roxas turned his back to him and began to walk away. It would have appeared that it had finally gotten past the blonde's thick skull, but Riku wasn't holding his breath. Come a week from now Roxas would be batting his eyes at him and wagging his tail like a pathetic puppy dog. But if it meant a quiet night in Esthar, Riku would take it without the slightest lick of hesitation. Once again, grabbing his bag, Riku got up and made his way towards the exit.

"Riku!"

The silver haired man looked over his shoulder, one of the behind-the-scenes assistants waving something in her hand. He stopped his stride and offered her a small smile.

"Yeah?"

She extended her hand, a blue cell phone resting in her palm. "Roxas left this on one of the make-up stations. I know you're staying at the same hotel, could you pass that onto him?"

All Riku could imagine was Sora's outstretched hand from when they met in the subway station. He grabbed Roxas' phone without thinking and the assistant bowed her head in gratitude before returning to whatever it was she was doing. He looked the phone over, the entire time an image of Sora's face crossing his mind. Riku dragged his tongue over his lip, still tasting the traces of lip gloss.

"Fuck, now I have to find Roxas."

That's when he felt the phone vibrate. He curiously looked at the touch screen and noticed that Roxas had an unbelievable amount of unread text messages from a bunch of people from the past week. He would have stopped there, had a very particular name not caught his attention. There was a slight increase in heartbeats as he read the name over and over again, mouthing it out but not speaking it. Four letters were looking back at him, the undeniable pixilated name of Sora. It had to be him. Not feeling the slightest ounce of guilt, Riku slid the safety off the touch screen and looked up the contacts. After a good two or three minutes of continuous scrolling he came to the one he had been after. Sora's phone number was right there. He studied his surroundings for a moment and sprinted towards the exit, meeting the afternoon sun and breathing in the crisp air. Riku took out his own phone and copied the information from Roxas'. He stopped an assistant walking by.

"Could you track down Roxas and give him his cell phone? I'd appreciate it."

The girl blushed red, but did as she was asked. Riku leaned up against a nearby pillar, one of hundreds down a long winding path. He couldn't take his eyes off the number in front of him and there was this feeling of anxiousness as he debated on what to do. The answer was quite obvious, but hitting the "call" button was not coming to him easily.

"What do I say? I mean, I only saw him that one time…" Riku muttered to himself. "He'll ask how I got the number and…"

How did Roxas have his number? Riku shook his head, questions would be saved for later. Letting out a sigh, the silver haired model unlocked his phone, and pressed "call."

This was unusual. He was never nervous, but this time all he could hear was the pounding in his ears. One ring, two rings, and then there was a click.

"Hello?"

Riku couldn't help but smile. "I, uh, hi Sora, this is Riku."

Silence.

"Riku from the subway, you gave my phone back to me."

"…Yeah, I remember. Uh, how did you get my number?"

"I guess we have a mutual friend. I hope you don't mind that I called."

"No, no, it's okay."

There was an urgency in Sora's voice, not of fear, but rather curiosity.

"Aren't you in Esthar?"

"Yeah, this is my last day here. I'll be flying back tomorrow."

"Oh, okay, cause you were telling me about the runway shows…"

"Yeah, I did, didn't I? Listen, Sora…"

When the brunet didn't respond, Riku knew it was okay for him to continue.

"I'm sorry if I said something wrong that time in the subway. But, I did mean what I said. I'd be interested in seeing you for coffee or something."

There was a slight pause on the line.

"Are you sure? I mean, you're this big model guy and I'm, well-"

"I work with other models all the time Sora, they're nothing special."

There was a laugh from Sora's side.

"Gee, well now I can't brag that I'll be going out for coffee with a model then."

Riku felt his lungs tighten. "So, can I consider that a yes then?"

"…Alright. Coffee it is."

His lungs expanded. "Great, uh, why don't I call you when I get home and we'll take it from there?"

Sora was nodding on his side of the line. "Okay, but you pick the place."

"I can do that."

"Cool, so, um, I should let you go."

"Yeah, I should finish up here and head back to my hotel room."

"Have a safe flight back."

"Thanks, I will. So, I'll talk to you later then?"

"Sure…later."

Riku heard the click and the touch screen faded to black. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and let out as stretch. The model rested his head against the pillar, the cool feeling of the marble soothing to the touch.

"Coffee it is."

-XXXXX-

Sora couldn't explain the feeling in his stomach as he walked through the lobby door of a large condominium building in the north. He looked at his phone and realized he was about 20 minutes late in meeting Vanitas. Sora went up the designated elevator and down a series of halls before coming to a door only to find the familiar sight of black hair and golden eyes. He walked up to him and was about to apologize when Vanitas grabbed him by the collar and dragged him towards the stairs. The older twin shoved him through and forced him against a wall. Sora felt like screaming as his side was pulsating with pain. Vanitas was glaring at him, his face very, very close to Sora's.

"Sora, baby, it's almost 11:30."

The brunet let out a sluggish sigh. "Reno took longer than I thought, I'm sorry. I got here as soon as I could."

Vanitas banged a fist against the wall, the sickening sound of bone against solid concrete. He pressed his forehead to Sora's. The brunet could tell by the way his pupils were dilated that Vanitas had already partaken in some pre-party festivities of his own. He groaned inwardly, bringing a hand up to his brother's face.

"Vanitas…why did you do it? You promised me-"

"It's your fault! I told you to be here at 11 o'clock! I don't give a fuck that you were running late, when I tell you to be here you better fucking be here!"

Sora rolled his eyes towards the heavens and breathed in. If one were to think Sora would break down and cry, one was wrong. He pursed his lips and pulled himself away from Vanitas.

"You're high. And we have a party to deal with. Give me your bag and head home. I'll take care of this."

Sora slowly grabbed the bag over Vanitas' shoulder and held it in his own hands. The dark haired man cupped Sora's face and smashed his lips against his. The brunet winced inwardly and broke away, a coat of saliva glistening on his lips.

"Go home Vanitas."

Sora watched as his brother opened the stairway door and disappeared, leaving Sora on his own. He clutched his side and took in a long, deep breath, smiling as a trickle of tears made their way down his cheeks. His fresh tattoo was hurting, but despite the pain and the sudden, but not unusual confrontation with his brother, Sora was feeling oddly okay.

"Coffee it is," he said to himself, thinking of Riku.

~00000~