Shadow Boxer

Pairing: Tasuki x Kouji, Chichiri x Tasuki

Part: 3/3

Completed: March 2002

Author's note: I'm not a Japanese woman, so I don't own FY either. I named this fic after a Fiona Apple song off of her "Tidal" album.

The "Box" was a few blocks away in a nicer part of New York. Nuriko had dragged the quite unwilling Tasuki there a few times. In the end, Tasuki found comfort in Nuriko's nagging. At least someone fussed over him. He was sort of like an older sister. "Hey, Nuri."

"Yes?" he purred as he hung off of his shoulder.

"I'm just gonna hang around the top floor this round. I'm not in the mood to flirt," he informed him.

As they got closer to the crowded dance floor, Nuriko swung Tasuki around and demanded, "Not before you dance with me!"

Figuring as much, Tasuki danced aggressively with Nuriko in the middle of the dance floor. Grinding roughly, just how both of them liked it, they never switched partners. For the duration of that DJ's hyped-up spinning, Nuriko did his best to try and seduce Tasuki into more than dancing. His hips ground so far into Tasuki, he began to feel sore, which only fueled the sensation. Nuriko never liked Tasuki as more than a friend, but they had almost become closer than they should have been when neither of them had gotten laid in a while. Tasuki persistently pushed the forward youth away. The last straw was when Nuriko pulled Tasuki into a playful kiss. Disgusted by his actions and his lack of prevention, Tasuki sneered, "I'm getting more water."

He shoved people out of his way until he got to the bar. He motioned for bottled water and turned to watch the obese mass of hormones in the center of the club. Letting his eyes wonder far too deeply into the workings of the crowd, he spotted a couple of girls' way past grinding. He scoffed at the display at first seeing as they were merely doing it for the pleasure of the male spectators. "Are those the type of people Kouji slept with? Were they just clubbers? Punks from the concerts? Maybe, he's far more extravagant about people he sleeps with than I am. I generally pick the "boys next door" types don't I? Chichiri . . ." he thought with a pulling of the heartstring. "Maybe I should have been nicer. Hopefully he'll call tomorrow."

"Hey," winked another guy as the growing crowd pushed him into the latter of Tasuki's body.

Tasuki blinked back at the Japanese boy in front of him, rather on top of him.

"Sorry about that," his confidence shrunk a little as he pushed to sit beside Tasuki instead of on him. He fidgeted with the ring on his right hand. He ordered at water with a familiar flick of the wrist and waited facing the bartender.

His features were very Japanese Tasuki noted. His eyes were expectedly long slitted, his hair was his native color with a little gel, and his clothes were modern Japanese, much like American neo-punk. Smirking at his lengthy companion, he took a swig of his water and pretended not to be looking out of the corner of his eye at him.

The Japanese boy returned to his upright position facing the crowd neglecting to hide his occasional looks at the red headed boy beside him. "So where are you from?" he asked over the music.

"Pennsylvania."

"I'm from . . ." he answered.

"Japan," Tasuki interrupted. "You look like it."

The other boy smirked and took another swig of water. "Interesting," he thought. "What's your name?"

"Genrou. You?" he inquired half-heartedly.

"Yuuhi," he returned. After finishing his water, he watched Genrou finish his nonchalantly. Then, he abruptly took Genrou by the wrist and led him into the crowd of pheromones. Genrou didn't look too surprised. Yuuhi didn't dance closely at first teasing Genrou into dancing with him. Surprisingly, Genrou was a natural at letting go on the dance floor. Taking Genrou's lead at being much rougher, they became much closer than expected. Yuuhi did everything he could to not start grinding into the other boy, as he wanted to. He hardly knew him. Instead, he went with the flow of Genrou's body. "I certainly picked the right guy to dance with. He's so natural with me, and we just started dancing. He was certainly cold with me at first, for being so hot anyway," he thought loudly.

Orange eyes bore hooks into brown ones. Yuuhi couldn't look away from that luring heat. "You're a good dancer," Genrou finally said.

An eyebrow raised. "You haven't seen the half of it," he laughed.

"Show me then," he challenged moving in closer.

"Did he get my innuendo or not?" Yuuhi asked himself. Instead of wondering at Genrou's of further advances, he pulled into a tight caress. "I can't show you here," he purred into Genrou's ear then licked it.

He nodded. "Why is he teasing me so much. I. I like Chichiri. I can't deny that I want him, too. It's not like Chichiri and I am anything but friends. I could . . . I will," he thought. "Your place?"

Within fifteen minutes, the train and their feet lead them to an apartment several minutes from NYC. In the second floor apartment, Yuuhi threw his jacket off onto the couch and led Genrou through the apartment. "This is the kitchen where we'll drink coffee in the mourning and stare lovingly into each other's eyes. This is the living room where we'll watch cartoons in the morning through tired eyes. This is the bathroom where we'll wash each other clean later," finally they entered the large simple bedroom. "And here's where we get buck naked and fuck each other's brains out." He closed the door behind Genrou pushing him closer to the dim bed.

"Sounds fun," Genrou answered. He pulled his shirt slowly over his head to drop it on the floor.

Yuuhi was drawn to him like a moth to a zapper. The hot magnetism between them pulled them together like in the loop of a tightening rope. Their breath grew hotter and hotter as they drew together for the first kiss. Yuuhi loved this moment about as much as climax. Before any other stimulation, they were clean of each other. They were almost perfect strangers to the world and each other. Every breath was foreign yet familiar, every patch of skin was untouched by lips. Everything was new. Genrou waited silently with Yuuhi in his comforting arms slipping his button down shirt slowly off of his shoulders. In the dark room the pair paid tribute to silence they would soon murder with their ardor.

"Genrou," he lifter his head to stare into Genrou's catching gaze.

"Hn?" he asked.

"I don't want to ruin anything, but this is the first time . . ."

"Oh Suzaku," Genrou thought.

" . . . that I've done it with someone I hardly know."

"Phew," Genrou sighed inwardly.

"Is there anything I should know about you?" he was almost sounded scared.

"What do you mean?" they sat at the edge of the bed still holding.

"Well, recently I've had a scare with one of my ex-lovers. I'd just like to know if there's something special about you I need to know before we . . ."

"Shhh," Genrou put his finger to his lips. "We won't go all the way if you'd like. We can finish it another time."

"Another time? You mean, you'd want to see me again?" his spirits lifted.

"If tonight goes well and if you'd let me," he answered.

Yuuhi immediately pounced on him with showers of first kisses. "Of course I'd let you come back! I must warn you, I'm not quiet."

Genrou kissed him back, "Good." He pulled him into another barrage of attention. "Tonight won't be any different."

As promised, the two awoke to Saturday morning cartoons and coffee in the kitchen. Constantly holding and flirtatiously touching, the two hadn't gone all the way as planned. Tasuki knew it wouldn't be smart to fuck a guy right now, especially since he might give him HIV. The other boy snuggled into his neck like a previously abandoned kitten asking for affection. The fiery one pet his skin like a large cat paying limited attention to the tunes. Then he looked at his clock. "Ah, shit. Yuuhi, I gotta get goin'."

Yuuhi climbed fully on top of him to stop him like a child. "Come on, Ta-chan," he purred. "What's more important than snuggling with me?"

He smiled and pet the pouty boy's head. "I've got shit to take care of. My brother's comin' into town."

He sighed and climbed off of him. "Okay, fine. But I'll see you later right?"

Tasuki pulled his jacket on. "As soon as my brother leaves."

"Promise?" he insisted.

"I promise," he smiled and walked out the door.

His dorm stood still like the air had been sucked out of it, but something had moved while he was gone. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Way off. After a thorough investigation, he found nothing, so he retired to the shower before crawling to his fate blocks away in his mailbox.

He tucked his towel over the curtain rail and let the water calm into a warmer state. The feeling of water against his skin, cleansing him, reminded him of Chichiri's face right after he saved him. So open, exquisitely intriguing. All he wanted to do is submerge himself in that form, take in his essence. "Chichiri. . ." he caught himself whispering to himself. The last syllable triggered his guilt. The virus he might carry made his guilt triple, as if the infection might reach him only by thought of him. Taking all the hot water in the dorm, he finished his shower in scolding water, burning away the venom that flowed through his veins. All the steam plagued his eyes, ripping salty tears from his heart. Hoping the water would rinse away the tears as well, he faced the fiery steam only to feel the moment replay on the walls of his brain. 'I'll die if you have it, too! . . Please forgive me, Tasuki!' The look in Kouji's eyes at that moment pled to the only thing he cared about. 'I know he didn't want this to happen, but. . . Kouji you bastard!!!' His fists hit the blue tile walls of the stall over and over again. 'Why'd you have to hurt yourself like that?! Why'd you have to hurt me?! Suzaku, am I going to die? Is he gonna die? God, he's sent me to hell!' he shouted to himself as he remembered all the videos in Sex Ed. he'd seen of sickly fags puking their vile stench all over in their final years all alone. Kouji's ghost was past the wall, his shadow on the wall. He was always just out of reach. "You fuckin' cocksucker," he cried. Finally noticing all the blood seeping out of his knuckles, he shut off the water and wrapped himself up. The sting of a split heart seeped out of his hands and onto the towel he held around his waist. A few guys averted their eyes from the sight as he made his way back to his dorm room. He closed the door slowly careful not to spill anymore blood. Sitting on the bed he noticed a piece of paper stick to his hand as he leaned back. He lifted the unfamiliar purple paper and unfolded the corners.

Yo Tasuki, I lost you at the club last night. 'Dja get lucky? Anyhow, Call me when you get in.

Nuriko

Smiling, he reached for the phone.

Part 3