Title: Why The Caged Bird Sings
Pairing: Dark/Daisuke; side Krad/Satoshi
Summary: (DarkDaisuke KxS) Welcome to prison, where the convicts are men, the men are gay, and the gay are drop dead gorgeous. Enter Dark, who wants to bang his new, innocent cellmate. Now enter Daisuke – something Dark wholly plans to do. Ah, the wonders of the big house.
Usual disclaimers apply and I warn you of perversion, AU-ness, definite OOC-ness, language, and Daisuke-pain.
I thank you, my reviewers, for your wonderful reviews, and I'm glad that you like where my story is going so far. Hopefully, I won't screw it up… xD Oh, and to TheeBycth, an uke is a yaoi term used to describe the more submissive one in a shounen-ai relationship; the uke is usually on the bottom, if you know what I mean. /lecherous wink/
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Two hours later found Daisuke hovering precariously between the adjoined cellblocks and the mess hall. Dare he enter the place where the remaining masses of cold-blooded convicts roamed? What if they were raucous? What if they were violent? Worst of all…what if they were perverts?
Daisuke nearly eeped. The mental image of hundreds of identical Darks sitting, and eating, and being lewd appeared in his mind. One Dark was enough, but…more?
"Hey, Dai-chan." Well, speak of the devil… "Whaddaya doing, just standing here? If you don't get a move on, you'll be last in line." Dark's tanned hand descended upon Daisuke's shoulder, gripping the black clad flesh and steering the redhead's yielding body in through the entrance of the refectory.
"Well…uh…" Daisuke didn't want to tell Dark that he was afraid of evil, murderous convicts who would most likely try to feel him up. "I was…waiting for you!"
Dark ushered Daisuke in the slowly moving cafeteria line and cheered happily. "You were waiting for me? Oh, it's just like we're in love! …But without the hot, passionate sex – just yet, anyway." He raised his eyebrows twice in speedy succession and winked alluringly.
"Dark…" Daisuke's eyes narrowed as he scowled.
"Disgruntled much, Dai-chan? Is it because you want the hot rabid monkey sex?"
Daisuke would have banged his head against something hard had the closest hard thing not been the glass separating him from the food. Instead, he opted to politely turn his gaze away from the contently smirking Dark and direct toward the task at hand: eating.
The food-collecting area was not unlike that of an American high school's. Several piles of red trays were stacked neatly off to the side, and to the left of them was a long row of food – if you could call it that.
What the prison officials obviously thought was an array of edible foods was quite the opposite. Large tubs and pots of steaming, chunky liquids (or watery solids?) lined up like army men before a sergeant, and even farther left were the retarded soldiers (also known as scattered chunks of stale-looking bread upon a grimy pan). Beside the bread station was a collective selection of drinks, ranging from bottles of mineral water to bottles of pop to cans of Ponta. With their bright, cheerful colors and familiar, popular brands, they seemed to be the only edible things in the entire room (save human flesh, for even that seemed more edible than the 'food' in the tubs).
Daisuke resisted the urge to poke the substance-filled tubs (the sneeze glass would have stopped him, anyway), instead taking a tray into his hands and sliding it over the counter. He trailed behind Dark, carefully watching the older man's face. The thief then grinned brightly at the cafeteria worker – who, to Daisuke's surprise, had a gun strapped to her apron – and pointed to a pot of simmering green…soup? …tea? …grass? The woman nodded gruffly and ladled a bubbling spoonful onto his plate before shooing him away with her serving spoon. Accordingly, the convict in front of Dark was then attacked with several dollops of the green stuff.
Daisuke nervously pointed to the same thing Dark had gotten, hoping that the plum-locked man's tastes in food weren't as insane as he was.
Whilst leaving the line of doom, Daisuke turned with his tray and spotted Krad and Satoshi sitting quietly at a rickety steel table, neither of the two looking at, let alone eating, their food, which were the respective colors of dark brown and mustard yellow. Dark soon approached them, sitting on the bench opposite to the happy couple and waving indicatively at Daisuke to join them.
The redhead quickly scanned the entire room, meeting the stares of hundreds of gruff, callous faces, and decided that the loud pervert and make-out-happy duo he had already met seemed more inviting than the rest of the lot. He made his way over to Krad, Satoshi, and Dark and – reluctantly – sat next to Dark.
Daisuke suspiciously poked the bubbling green slush with his blunt plastic fork and pulled a face. "Is this for eating, or suicide?" he inquired interestedly. He attempted to put in one last poke, but something incredibly odd happened.
Out of nowhere, a blur of blue and white zipped past their table, bringing with it several napkins and straw wrappers and leaving them to drift slowly to the ground. Daisuke looked down and realized that those little pieces of paper weren't the only things that had been taken away. To his surprise, his brick red tray had disappeared – along with Krad's, Satoshi's, and Dark's – and in its place was a teal-green one. He swiveled his neck around several times, trying to locate the tornado that had stolen his 'supposedly' edible arsenic, but saw nothing out of place.
"Uh…guys…? What just happened here?" Daisuke motioned to his new tray, noting that none of his companions had been at all surprised by the mysterious disappearance of their food.
"Towa-chan," was the placid response from all three men.
Well gee, that sure helped, Daisuke mused sarcastically. "Who's Towa-chan?"
The instant the honorary left his lips, the strange, spinning blur returned with a vengeance. Daisuke watched in fascination as food promptly began to appear on each of his cellmates' empty trays: for Satoshi, the odd combination of a slice of bread and a bowl of miso soup; for Krad, a plate of onigiri wrapped in nori and filled with umeboshi; and for Dark, a Shidashi bento packed with rice and tempura, but lacking the customary serving of pickled vegetables.
Daisuke's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Whoa! Where did those come from?"
"Towa-chan."
Daisuke nearly popped a blood vessel. "Who is Towa-chan?"
"Towa-chan desu!" someone behind Daisuke screamed cheerfully, and thin arms wrapped themselves around his neck.
The surprised redhead started, shook the arms off his shoulders, and whirled around madly. "What the –" Once fully turned, Daisuke got a good look at the person his cohort of convicts called Towa-chan.
Despite the fact that she looked to be in her late twenties, Towa was attired in cutesy gothic lolita garb. -1- She wore a French maid-like outfit whose color was a mix of navy blue and plum. The mid-thigh-length skirt and its frilly hem sprung out, as though supported by a hidden crinoline, and a light pink apron with lacy edges covered its front. Along the vertical expanse of her stomach – above the skirt's garter and just under her bust – was a tightly tied white corset, its strings crisscrossed neatly and tied in a pretty bow. Over her long legs were tall, white stockings with ruffled tops that went over her knees, and adorning her slim wrists were frilly blue and white cuffs. Her top consisted of a high-collared blouse with short, wing-shaped sleeves and a single diamond of cloth cut away just below the base of her neck, revealing a patch of pale, unblemished skin.
"You are so cute!" the woman giggled. Her cropped silver-gray hair shined in the florescent prison lighting, and she brushed a lock of the neat steel mass from her glittering green eyes.
Daisuke fumed. He wasn't cute. He was a man. Men weren't cute.
"Look at him!" Towa squealed. "He's pouting!"
"I'm not pouting!" Daisuke said defensively, his face quickly gaining an outraged facet.
"Towa-chan," Dark cut in, turning around and placing his hands on his hips in a stern manner. "Don't tease Daisuke, please."
"Thanks, Dark –"
"As his lover, only I may tease Dai-chan and his adorable pouting."
"WHAT?"
Towa nodded elatedly, teetering forward a little to express her eagerness. "I understand, Dark! I am glad you've found yourself a little boyfriend. I bet you felt lonely with Krad and Satoshi making out all the time."
"Well not really…" Dark hinted slyly. "Sometimes I'd join them." He waggled his eyebrows and Satoshi looked up from his soup coldly.
"What did you say, Dark?" the blunette snarled.
"Uh…"
Krad abandoned his onigiri for a moment and joined in the let's-glare-at-Dark marathon.
"What did you say?" Satoshi repeated calmly.
"…" Dark flinched nervously and looked up at Towa like a kicked puppy. "Yeah. I was lonely…"
Krad and Satoshi simultaneously lowered their heads and continued to nurse their dinners.
"Well that's lovely," Towa commented. She turned to Daisuke and patted his mass of ruby hair like a mother would her child. "So how are you liking Dark?"
"I'm not," Daisuke immediately answered. "He's a pervert, he thinks he likes me, he won't quit bothering me, and he copped a feel earlier. I hate him, and the moment I get out of prison, I'm gonna sue him for rape and lock him in jail for life."
"It's only rape if the victim says no…" Dark whispered, placing an unoccupied palm over Daisuke's thigh.
"And I say no, you pervert!" was the abrupt reply. Daisuke shoved the offending hand off his flesh and growled.
Towa squealed. "Oh, Dark, you picked a feisty one! What's his name again?"
"Daisuke," Dark replied proudly. If Daisuke were a cat, the purple-eyed man probably would have been holding him up by the chest and pressing him into Towa's cheerful face.
"Dai-chan! That's perfect for him. And look – look at his eyes! They're enormous! Dark," Towa giggled excitedly, "he's the perfect uke!"
"Uke," he repeated disbelievingly. "Uke." Daisuke couldn't even muster up the energy to blow up. Instead, he seethed silently, slumping over in a brooding manner and glaring at his empty tray.
Dark laughed like the evil mastermind he was. "That's what I told him, Towa-chan. Oh, God, I can just see it now." He stared up into space, mouth open slightly. "Him under me, writhing in ecstasy and pure pleasure. My tongue working wonders, his hands making me hot and bothered, my ministrations bringing him closer and closer to heaven, his screams of lust driving me on, until I seal the deal with a single kiss…and then pound into him and fuck the brains out that pretty little virgin head of his."
Daisuke looked up in time to see a bit of drool begin to froth at Dark's lower lip. The cherry-haired man's face had sprouted a blush the unhealthy shade of burgundy, and his normally large eyes were even wider now in outrage and disgust. "Dark!" he all but roared. "You're gonna talk about that right in front of me, as if I'm not even here?"
"It turns you on, don't it?" Dark purred surreptitiously.
"NO!"
Towa tittered to herself. "You're such a cute couple!" she commented.
"We're not a couple! …You psycho voyeur." Daisuke said the last part inaudibly to himself.
"We're a sexy couple," Dark corrected. "Uke of our sexy couple," he announced loudly, "let me feed you." He pulled out a pair of trusty wooden chopsticks from his bento and speared a shrimp tempura. "Open up."
Daisuke pursed his lips. "I'm not letting you feed me. Who knows what you'll try to stick down my throat."
Dark lowered the chopsticks. "I have a pretty good idea." The enticing smirk returned on his face. "And I'll scream your sweet name as you suck on it…" And he casually popped the breaded head of the tempura into his mouth.
Daisuke was about to open his mouth and voice his revulsion when a plate of steaming hot okonomiyaki fell upon his tray. "What the –?" He turned around to see Towa's smiling face. "Octopus okonomiyaki? How did you know?"
Towa's grin never faltered; in fact, it seemed to grow bigger. "Eat!" she insisted, ignoring his question and handing him a small metal spatula for cutting and a pair of wooden chopsticks for eating.
"Uh…thanks. Itadakimasu."
"So anyone off your list as of lately, Towa-chan?" Dark asked conversationally, pouring a little soy sauce over his rice.
"List?" Daisuke chimed in questioningly, one hand gripping the small metal spatula while the other had a hold of the chopsticks.
"Yeah, list," Krad supplied. He reached over and dipped an onigiri into Satoshi's bowl of soup. "Towa-chan has a list of beautiful men in her head. She feeds them all properly, so we as bishounen won't all die horrible deaths by means of food poisoning. If it weren't for Towa-chan and her bishounen list, we would be eating the lethal crap the prison serves. Satoshi." His tone grew commanding and he held the speared ball of rice up to Satoshi's lips. "You need to eat more."
Satoshi looked up sharply, making the lenses of his glasses shine completely white for a moment. "…" It wasn't quite an objection, but the tightening of his lips indicated that he did not want to eat more. 'Cause hey! – he finished his bread slice and a little more than half the bowl of soup. Woooooowwwww.
"C'mon Satoshi…" Krad rumbled lowly, eyes becoming half-lidded. "After dinner, you just might get a special dessert…"
Satoshi's eyes widened at the implication and he glanced hurriedly at the onigiri. Slowly, he cocked his head forward, opened his lips, and took a lean bite of the cold rice.
Krad smirked devilishly and nuzzled the blue-eyed man's neck, gently running his tongue over the pale skin as Satoshi swallowed slowly. Despite his insinuation, it seemed Krad wanted dessert now, instead of after dinner
By this time, Daisuke was blushing to his roots, Towa was squealing excitedly and taking pictures with her digital camera (-flash- "I love my job!" -click-), and Dark was simply scarfing down his bento.
"So…" Daisuke looked away from the KradxSatoshi scene and gulped down a mouthful of sauce-slathered okonomiyaki. "Anyone off this 'list' of yours?" He obviously wanted to direct everyone's attention away from the…busy couple.
"Argen-kun is getting on my nerves a bit, but no, no one yet." Towa shook her head.
"Who's on your list?" Daisuke asked, genuinely curious.
Dark motioned about the room, where a majority of the prisoners had plates of bubbling sludge. "Not many people, that's for sure," he informed his pseudo-lover. "I mean, you're lucky to be on Towa-chan's list in a single day. It took me a week to get on it, and it took Krad two! …Somehow, creepy boy over there got on it in two days…"
Towa looked slightly ruffled as she smacked the notorious thief upside the head. "Do not insult Satoshi. He is the ice prince, and he is incredibly sexy."
"Yeah." Krad broke away from Satoshi's mouth long enough to grunt, "Sexy as hell." He crushed their lips back together while Satoshi's hands fisted his golden hair insistently.
"Hey, hey!" Towa whacked Krad's head with a rolled up newspaper (where she got it, Daisuke would never know). "No depriving Satoshi of his food. You said it yourself: he needs to eat more."
Krad and Satoshi looked up at the fussing woman blankly, their eyes slightly fogged. Krad had his mouth open.
"EAT!"
"Yes ma'am," the two mumbled, shrinking and returning to their food distractedly.
"Ah…" Towa sighed. "Young, horny love."
Daisuke sliced a triangle of fried, octopus-and-sauce-topped batter from his circle of okonomiyaki and lifted it to his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Well gee… If we get all this great food (Towa blushed at the compliment…because it was from such a cute, gorgeous, yaoi-licious bishounen!), don't the rest of the guys in here get jealous?"
"Of course they do!" The rolled-up newspaper made its valiant return. Towa smacked it against her opened palm in a threatening manner. "But if they dare try to do anything to my bishounen, then they might get a little something in their already crappy food."
The few men who had overheard Towa's threat all gulped loudly, making Daisuke sweatdrop nervously. "Uh… What kind of 'something'?"
"Rat," Dark supplied shortly, waving his chopsticks around for emphasis. "A dead rat."
Daisuke blanched. "A dead rat, Towa-chan?"
The silver-haired woman nodded cheerfully. "Some bum tried to steal Funa-chan's ramen. Oh ho ho…" she chuckled malevolently, her cheerful bottle green eyes suddenly narrowing evilly. "And the next day, he got his just desserts!"
Krad and Satoshi exchanged feral looks. "Dessert."
Daisuke spent the next quarter hour shoveling his dinner down his throat, averting his gaze and blushing profusely at his slowly diminishing okonomiyaki as the resident couple made out right before him.
Click. Flash.
Towa-chan took pictures.
And Dark wondered aloud why they couldn't be like that, and tried to suck on Daisuke's neck.
…to which Daisuke threw his spatula at the phantom thief, wishing it were a fruit knife instead.
------
Daisuks's back arched slightly despite his dogged attempts to prevent himself from moving. "Oh…God…" he moaned.
He wanted it all to stop: the pain, the discomfort, the burning, the danger. But truth be told, he really didn't. Or maybe he did… In fact, he wasn't quite sure what he wanted. He hurt so badly in that one spot (thank God he wasn't bleeding) and he had half the mind to push Dark off him…but a part of him really wanted it. Prison was changing him at an amazingly fast rate. To do such a risky, spontaneous thing with Dark…that was not Daisuke-like.
He didn't quite know why he had allowed Dark to do this to him, really. His skin was blazing with a fire earlier ignited, and he was uncomfortable; he was in so much pain. And yet…he felt an odd sense of satisfaction.
Dark's left hand pressed against the front of the redhead's neck, causing him to stiffen. "You can move, too, you know…" the older man informed him quietly from behind. The hand trailed down the length of his back, and then returned northward to the expanse of his narrow shoulders.
Daisuke shuddered. "D-don't."
The plum-haired man barked in laughter. "Naa, naa, koibito – don't get your shirt up all in a twist."
"My shirt's already off – and don't call me that!"
Dark chuckled again. "Oh yes. It's quite off, isn't it?" The pads of his fingers drifted over slightly reddening skin and he shifted his legs, causing Daisuke to let out a painful cry.
"Ouch, damn it! Watch where you shove that thing!"
"Heheheh… Sorry Dai-chan," Dark sniggered. "Should I stop?"
"No!" Daisuke snapped. "I swear, if you pull out before we're finished, I will shoot you."
"Someone's being an eager beaver," Dark remarked laughingly.
"You shut up," Daisuke ordered.
"Tsk tsk…" Dark sighed. He pressed in harder and almost giggled at the pained scream that erupted from Daisuke's lips.
"Fucking sadist!" the poor victim shrieked.
"That's quite a vocabulary you have there, Dai-chan," Dark observed coolly.
"Only when I'm around you, you psycho – damn it, Dark, that's it! We're done!"
"Hm?" Dark look up from his task in feigned confusion. "What's this? You don't want your tattoo anymore?"
"No," Daisuke retorted caustically. "No I don't want my tattoo anymore. Not when you're going wild on me with a flaming needle!"
"Ah-ah-ah." The veteran prisoner waggled his finger annoyingly. "It's not a needle, and it's certainly not flaming."
"Close enough," Daisuke snarled.
"Come on, Daisuke," Dark cajoled. "I've only got three more letters left, and then the inking. Two hours tops, I promise."
"No –"
"Two hours!"
"No –"
"I promise!"
"No –"
"You are the sexiest beast on earth."
"No –"
"LIES!" Dark bellowed dramatically.
Daisuke ran his right hand through his hair tiredly. "Fine, fine!" he snapped. "Keep going. Just hurry it up."
"Well we've wasted enough time squabbling. I'll have to reheat the needle now."
Daisuke froze. "R-Really?" he half-whimpered.
Dark chuckled and plucked his tattoo-making device from Daisuke's puckered skin, making the man below him cry out in pain. "Sorry, ochibi, but hey – look at the bright side: now you'll be bad ass."
Daisuke sighed and propped his head up with his fist. "That's great, really…"
Above him, Dark pulled out a lighter and busied himself with the tattoo-making process while Daisuke contemplated this obviously idiotic decision.
Sated and content (or as content as anyone is prison could possibly be), Daisuke trooped backed to his cell after dinner, making sure to trail close after Dark so as not to lose his way. Somewhere along the way, Krad and the slightly full Satoshi had run off into a closet marked 'Cellblock Custodians for the Week: Fuji Syuusuke and Kirihara Akaya,' Satoshi shouting something about 'cleaning duties' and the ever-contradictory Krad shouting something about 'dessert and super hot make out time with Satoshi.'
No one stopped them, so Daisuke supposed it was okay. The cell bars rolled to a close as he and Dark entered, enclosing them within its confines.
"So this is prison?" Daisuke asked conversationally, lying down on the bed closest to him.
Dark arched an eyebrow. "Why yes. What were you expecting?"
Daisuke shrugged and yawned. "Oh…I dunno, really. I expected you guys to be giant, middle-aged men with fetishes for scars and tattoos and stuff…"
"Who says I'm not?"
It was Daisuke's turn to arch an inquiring eyebrow. "Do you look like an old tub of lard covered with scars and tattoos? Didn't think so –"
The redhead was cut off when Dark turned around and pulled off his shirt.
"Dark, what are you doing?" Daisuke shouted. "Put your shirt back on!"
"No, look." Dark bent over a little and gathered his unruly hair into his fist. On his back, just above his shoulder blades, was a pair of black, angelic wings that curled a bit at the bottom. Down lower, just above the garter of his black plants, and in the dip of his back, was a single black feather.
"Wings?" Daisuke traced the left wing with amazement.
Dark groaned and shuddered slightly at the touch. "Yup." He turned to his side and showed Daisuke his left bicep, where an elegantly scribed word was sketched onto the smooth, tanned skin: Kaitou. The older man continued to model his many other tattoos – more on his arms, some on his stomach, a couple down his chest – much to Daisuke's incredulity, for he had not even noticed any of them on him earlier. Who knew that he was bunking with a tattoo-crazy convict?
"And look!" Dark hastily undid his belt and made quick work of his zipper, expertly pulling his pants down in half a second.
"Holy crap – Dark!" Daisuke scooted back a few feet on the bed, nearly hitting the concrete wall. "Put your pants back on!"
"But I want to show you my favorite tattoo." Dark's voice was innocently sweet, but there was a suspicious glimmer residing in his violet eyes. "…It's on my ass." So that's what the suspicious glimmer was all about…
"Good God, Dark, I don't want to see it!"
Dark scowled and grumbled something inaudibly, reluctantly pulling his pants back on over his white boxers. "Say…Dai-chan?"
"Don't call me that."
"Super sexy god of all ukes Daisuke-san?"
"…Dai-chan's fine."
"Splendid. Now, Dai-chan, how would you like a tattoo of your own?"
Daisuke's mouth dropped open. "A tattoo? Me?" He paused for a moment of silence and frowned. "I don't think so, Dark. I've heard they're pretty painful… And I don't want anything permanent on my skin…"
"But Daisuke – this is prison. You can't leave prison without a memorabilia!"
"Oh, yeah," Daisuke replied sarcastically. "What better memorabilia than a self-inflicted scar covered in ink?"
"Exactly!"
"No, Dark."
"C'mon, Daisuke. I know how to make tattoos."
Daisuke gaped. "You do?"
"Yeah. By night, I was the great Phantom Thief Dark. By day, I was an assistant at a tattoo parlor."
"How convenient." Daisuke rolled his eyes.
"I don't have any professional stuff with me right now, but that won't stop me!" Dark went over to his footlocker and undid the lock, carefully pulling out a white bag. "Let me show you how I'll make your tattoo."
Dark opened up the bag and emptied its contents on the bed beside Daisuke's head. Out dropped several dozen silver paper clips, small, food-coloring sized bottles of permanent ink, and a cigarette lighter.
Daisuke sat up and grasped the lighter. "This is prison. How are you allowed to have this?"
Dark raised his eyebrows secretively. "I have my ways," he replied fluidly.
Daisuke thought about his prison movies. Certainly, Dark couldn't have smuggled this in through his internal system, could he? Because if this was the case, then that would mean that it came out of –
"Augh!" Daisuke dropped the lighter awkwardly and it bounced off the white sheets innocently.
"Relax," Dark cooed, an amused smile gracing his features. "It's not how you think it is. I stole it from old Yayoi."
Daisuke breathed a sigh of relief.
"Now this is how the process works." Dark picked up one paper clip and tugged on it haphazardly so that it was no longer in its clip form and instead stretched out. "I get my makeshift needle, and..." He picked up the lighter with his free hand and clicked it on, releasing a tongue of bright, flickering fire. Holding the tip of the bent clip up to the fire, he paused for about three minutes, calmly watching the procedure with a serious eye.
"When it's hot enough…" All of a sudden, he stopped talking, and in a fast movement of his hand, the inverted paper clip somehow found its way from the fire to half a centimeter away from the flesh in between Daisuke's eyes. "The fun begins."
Daisuke's froze, his eyes the size of tennis balls. "Uh…" He stared cross-eyed at the pointed tip of the clip, feeling a slight heat radiate from it. "Now I really don't want one."
Dark continued on, as though he hadn't heard Daisuke's objection. "After it's properly heated, the paper clip/needle is then inserted into a clean, flat area of flesh – not too deep, though, mind you – scraped along the skin enough to leave a lasting mark, inked with an assortment of permanent inks, and BAM! A handmade tattoo is born." -2-
Daisuke looked rather pale. "You want to cut me," he said mildly, just to make sure he understood what he was hearing.
"Partially."
"But you still want to cut me."
"…Yes."
"Oh." Daisuke seemed to consider this. "…No friggin' way."
"Hey, come on. I'll make you something cool!" Dark coaxed. "…Something like your prison number. You can show all your family and friends that you went to prison, and have the tattoos to prove it!"
"Wow…" Daisuke trailed off in faux amazement. Then, his face fell abruptly and it was clear that he was unimpressed. "No."
After about half an hour of coaxing, reassurances, flattery, and bribery ("You'll be bad ass!" "It won't hurt that badly." "You'll look just stunning, really, I promise." "If you let me, I'll also give you sex! C'mon, Dai! It's a win-win situation."), Daisuke finally caved.
"Fine."
One minute later, of course, Daisuke spent another ten minutes trying to convince the older man that he only wanted the tattoo, not the sex.
And that was where Daisuke found himself: lying belly-down on his sexual cellmate's bed with said cellmate straddling his ass, wielding a flaming needle, and carving said needle into his back.
"Done!" Dark pulled the paper clip from Daisuke's skin once again, expelling another painful cry from his charge.
"Oh thank God…" Daisuke muttered, beginning to get up.
"But no." Dark pushed Daisuke's head down with an unoccupied hand and blotted the open gashes with a wet towel. "I've gotta ink them now."
Daisuke nearly screamed out in frustration.
"And it's gonna hurt, too."
"…Damn it."
------
"Done!" Dark finally said…again.
"Are you sure this time?" Daisuke snapped. The ink seemed to be floating over his cuts, and the ticklish feeling just made him want to wipe all the stuff off.
"Yeah, I'm done."
"Good." Daisuke slipped out from under Dark's body and stretched, glad that the pain had trickled down to an almost numb sensation.
Dark followed suit and stood behind Daisuke, contemplating his work. "I like it," he remarked. "Don't forget to show all your buddies when you get out of here."
"Why would they want to see my prison number?"
Dark arched a mysterious eyebrow. "Who said I tattooed your prison number?"
Daisuke froze. "…What?"
"I said, 'something like your prison number,' but not necessarily your prison number. I put something much cooler."
Daisuke was mortified. Already, the many possibilities of things Dark could have written on him ran through his head.
Sexy uke.
Can't touch this.
I'm here, I'm queer, get used to it.
Don't eat moldy cheese.
'Nooooooooooooooooo!' Daisuke mentally wept. "Dark!" he shouted. "What did you write? What's on my back?"
"Well… If you're lucky… Me." Dark smirked and closed in on Daisuke, enveloping him within a hug from behind, careful to avoid the still wet ink of his tattoo.
"Dark!" Daisuke wailed, breaking loose from Dark's embrace. "Really! What's on me?"
Dark's smirk grew. "Sexiness."
"ARRGGGHHHH."
"Well…" There was a moment's pause; then… "Night, Dai-chan!" Dark clambered back onto his earlier occupied bottom bunk and pulled the ivory sheets over his head.
"Is that all you have to say to me?" demanded Daisuke. "You spend nearly three hours carving nonsense into my back and another two covering the cuts with ink, and all you can say is 'Night, Dai-chan'?"
"Oh…" came Dark's muffled voice. "And don't sleep for a while, either. Give the ink time to dry." He rolled over, back facing Daisuke, and grew silent once more.
"Dark? Dark!"
From the sound of a drowsy gurgle, Daisuke realized that Dark had fallen asleep.
"Are you serious, Dark? Serious? No one can fall asleep that fast! Damn it!" The disgruntled redhead pulled at his hair irately. "Now what the heck does this thing say?" He raked one hand through his abused hair and tried to twist his neck around to look at his new 'tattoo'; sadly, he couldn't quite make it. "Gah…" Giving up after three minutes of these futile attempts, Daisuke realized that there was a full-length mirror beside the urinal. Of course! He could use that.
Daisuke gaited toward the mirror, turned his back on it, and twisted his neck at an almost painful angle to gaze at the back of his shoulder.
Upon seeing the scratchy-looking text in black, red, and purple ink, Daisuke's blood boiled. Although the mirror had reversed the writing, he could easily decipher it. Several chicken scratch words littered his left shoulder, and his smoldering scarlet eyes narrowed angrily.
Krad and Satoshi – both suspiciously ruffled and disheveled looking – reentered the cell just in time to hear their newest cellmate scream:
"Dark, you are a stupid fucker!"
With an arched eyebrow, the blonde man approached the fuming redhead and peeked at his shoulder. He immediately looked away in order to hide the silly grin that had sprouted on his face. Permanently etched into Daisuke's normally smooth, flawless skin were four simple words:
I –heart– Dark Mousy
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1: Gothic lolita is a gothic type of lolita fashion more commonly worn by teens (which is why it's unusual for someone of Towa-chan's age to wear it). Lolita is often referred to as a sexual term, but it's more cutesy than sexual. Match cutesy with gothic and you get black – and sometimes white – lacy, ribbon-infested dresses and skirts. Towa-chan's attire is super cutesy, really, especially since she's in a maid outfit. XD
2: My classmate, Adan, actually did this (without his parents knowing, of course). He held the tip of a stretched out paper clip over a candle, waited until it was hot enough, and then carved HIM's heartagram into his left bicep. /flinch/ Aggh… That musta hurt like hell… And he said it hurt like hell, too. xD The only difference is that he didn't ink the cut, because if it got infected, he'd have to tell his parents that he had carved a band symbol into his flesh. x.O So…thanks to Adan, poor Dai-chan has to suffer this pain. XD His is kinda fading, but since Dark inked the marks, Dai's'll be permanent – I think.
Killah: Heheh… Well did I trick you during the tattoo scene? Did you think that Daisuke fell for Dark's seductions and agreed to boink with him? …Well you were wrong! BWUHAHAHAHA!!! Hey, I can't make Dark happy just three chapters into this story, now can I? And I'm sure Dai can hang in there longer than half a day!
O.O I can't write KradxSatoshi at all. X.x But I love poking fun at Satoshi's unwillingness to eat. I like to think of him as the two girls I sit next to, who are both twigs. --;; In fact, I call them twigs. …Damn twigs… I mean, they eat and all, but they STAY TWIGS. Damn them. T-T /sob/ Me and Adan envy them and their twiggyness…
Longest chapter yet! n.n Ain't ya gonna thank me by reviewing? ./sweetly holds out a cute bunny/ …Because if you don't, I'll release this defenseless bunny into the dangerous park, just like I did with my own four bunnies three or four years ago… /whistles innocently/
