Knockout


Rating: M

In which boxing.


Mid-July, Kurogane stared up at the ceiling fan spinning in the dark. He had been lying on the wood floor long enough for his back to go numb and his skin to grow clammy and stick.

The drunk college students on the floor above had shouted their goodnights. One staggered out to the balcony's edge to puke, but that was several hours ago. At the very edge of the horizon, hidden by concrete towers, red sunrise.

Kurogane couldn't breathe. He felt like a sculpture he'd seen once in a textbook.

A white marble woman, prone, wrapped in sheets, her lips parted in a moan. Leaning over her, a beautiful, smiling angel raised an arrow to stab. The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, it was called.

To call lust divinity, well.

"I swear to god if I see him today, I'll-" He was no saint, but raised Catholic, so he couldn't promise anything.

He closed his eyes and he could conjure Fai as he last saw him, a tumble of fair hair, sunshine smile...


They circled each other. Behind them, the punching bag swung in slow circles. The scent of rubber matting and Lysol kick.

Fai kept his gloves up, coyly hiding his grin behind his hands. He hesitated to strike, but did not seem afraid.

(Though it was always hard to tell...how Fai was feeling. Kurogane only knew he sensed a familiar live-wire energy underneath that hooded blue gaze. When they were together, it was like two demons recognizing each other at a Fresh Grocer...)

Fai ducked as Kurogane took the first swing.

(...They were always suppressing smiles around each other. Or some ridiculous smile-like feeling.)

"Running away?"

Fai shrugged, hopped out of range of another blow, and then, faster than Kurogane could register, came the sting of a jab to the chest. "Elbows in, Kuro!"

Kurogane aimed for Fai's fluffy blonde head and missed, to be met with three hard jabs to the gut. He swung again, but Fai slipped under his arm. A right hook to his cheek (that would definitely bruise) distracted him from another uppercut to the jaw.

He snarled, spit stringing from his mouth-guard. Swinging wildly, he cuffed Fai's left ear, made him oomph and stagger.

"Not cute-" Fai panted.

Their fighting was not cute.

For them, no crisp mathematics of Hollywood choreography, rather something more irrational, perhaps a poetry. They bumped forearms in half-formed punches, arms curved almost to hug, and shoulders grazed bellies. The air started to burn in Kurogane's throat. Absurdly, he began to feel like he was swimming.

Kurogane coughed and dimly realized Fai too, was panting, undignified. Their faces glistened with tears and snot and sweat.

A flurry of punches met Kurogane's nose, lips and neck, each with a distinct and brutal force. Even as Kurogane brought his arms up to guard, he felt himself falling.

"Down and out, Kuro darling." Fai staggered to where Kuro lay and prodded his side with his foot.

Kurogane grabbed Fai's ankle and pulled him down. The heat and the smell of rubber were unbearable. Fai laughed in short gasps.


In the locker room, everything was different. They didn't say anything to each other.

Fai's intent stare was gone; he never looked up. He headed to the showers and undressed modestly behind the locked door.

Kurogane followed.

He waited for Fai to turn on the water, but the showers remained silent. He could see Fai's feet in the gap. He knocked.

"Who's there?" Fai laughed at his own joke.

"I'm not making this up, am I?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Kuro-poo." Another laugh.

Kurogane swallowed. "The way I feel about you-"

"I don't understand." Fai repeated. "I don't-I really don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't feel it?"

"I-"

Silence and then the sudden squeak of the tap and the hiss of hot water. "I'm really sorry," Fai murmured. "You won't understand, but I'm really sorry."

"What won't I understand?" Automatically, Kurogane's hands curled into rising fists. "Tell me, damn it."

"I'm sorry, Kurogane. I really am. Just-go away please."

Kurogane slowly walked back to the benches. His head ached.

"I'll wait," he snapped.

"Dumb butt," replied Fai.

It was always hard to tell how Fai was feeling.


Naked, Fai crawled to Kurogane. He crawled until his body hovered over Kurogane's body and the suggestion of heat between them was intolerable. He sat back slowly, his ass cradled by Kurogane's hip bones, his fingertips just pressing into Kurogane's chest. The insomniac apartment lights glowed in the window behind his head. His constant smile completed the mosaic of lights.

Wordlessly, Kurogane reached up for Fai and Fai bent to meet.

A kiss. Hands. The quiet sound of Fai's quickening breath, the taste of his mouth. The heat.

It was logically absurd to compare the mundane rubbing of flesh to divine inspiration, Kurogane knew.

In pornography, quickly, nasal lovers' moans fell into an irritating repetition, like that of animals, badly wounded. He knew even as he gave his fantasy gold illumination, he was not much to look at: 5:00 AM, lying on his bedroom floor, reeking of stale sweat, as the sun slowly rose.

"God dammit, Fai..."

Raging at air.


AN: Prompts welcome!