Following that mildly unsettling conversation, Ulterior disappeared and didn't reappear at all. For the most part, Antithesis just explored Tyrant's place. He discovered a few more hidden stashes of weapons, in particular an entire alcove full of loose blades, whether new or badly rusted. He'd most likely garnered those from his various trips to Scrapyards. Despite the relative openness of his home, Tyrant was a low-key hoarder of weaponry and clothing.

For awhile he'd wondered where he kept his wardrobe, but after traveling down to his studio, his wondering was no more. A button occupied the left wall, and after pushing it, a section of that wall lifted off and slid to the side. Within were two racks of clothes, one on either side, and a little aisleway between. The racks went back at least two yards, and Antithesis believed the bins on shelves above the racks just held more clothing. Maybe shoes. He feared that moving the boxes would incite all kinds of rage from Tyrant when he returned, so he left them as they were.

Low-key hoarding aside, Tyrant was definitely creative with his storage. Had all his hidden things been out in the open, the place would've looked just as shitty on the inside as it did the outside.

After about two days, the door swung open, and Tyrant walked in. His appearance was more subdued than when he'd left, and his outfit was almost appropriate for a man to wear. His clothes were still somewhat tight, but his all-black raiment was basic, even dull. His lavender hair was contained in a single braid, his bangs framing his face flatly. His face appeared bare—or, at least, more bare than it usually was. If he had any makeup on, it was subdued. Whether it was eyeshadow or not, he didn't know, but his eyes looked tired and even somewhat vulnerable. What was wrong with him? Undoubtedly it was a product of his trip. Was he just tired from the journey? Or was it something else entirely?

Antithesis had been hanging from the rope lift that connected the ground floor to the five turrets, dressed a similarly lackadaisical way. He'd tied his hair away from his face, lacked a shirt, and wore the prison uniform pants he'd arrived in.

Tyrant stared at him, his somewhat dead eyes filling with relative interest. "The hell is this?"

"Upside-down sit-ups."

"You're not in prison anymore. You can do more than just exercise mindlessly."

"I don't know what else to do. I can't get off the island, after all."

Tyrant rolled his eyes. "I trust you weren't that bored?"

"No, not really."

Tyrant looked to the left, then right, then onto the floor. His eyes narrowed, and he strode toward the seating area. He bent over, and when he rose again, a black feather rested between his fingertips. "You let Ulmo in here?" he asked.

"He came in after you left," Antithesis replied. "I was still asleep, and by the time I woke up, he was here. He stayed to talk for a little, but he left after about an hour." Antithesis resumed his sit-ups. "I never would've expected you to be able to sing."

He went rigid at that. "What?" he breathed.

"He told me about Royal."

Tyrant gritted his teeth and fisted his hands. "Why?"

"I asked."

"Why?"

"Because you didn't tell me, and I wanted to know. Isn't that how that shit works?"

Though still visible in his eyes, rage dissipated from his body. "I hate you. But I suppose that's true. So he told you about the Tears, too?"

"Yeah. He came here to see if you were still clean."

He rolled his eyes. "He probably just came to drink my tea."

"Coffee."

"Bitch! That shit's imported!"

"The fuck was I supposed to know?"

"Never mind that. What'd you think of his story?"

"Well, you're right about him being a bastard."

He clapped once. "Good bitch, you are!"

Now it was Antithesis who rolled his eyes. So there wasn't anything wrong with him, after all. Either that or he was hiding it. Regardless, Tyrant was just as annoying as he'd been when he'd left.

"You try to get me to sing and I cut you," Tyrant hissed.

"I know, I know. He told me you don't do it anymore. Anyway, he said that he came here to check if you were still clean."

Another eye roll. "Nah, he came to steal my shit. I've been off Tears for five years now."

"Curiosity," Antithesis said.

"Regarding?"

"Drugs up here. He said they were common. That true?"

"Fuck, yeah. You know Medix? Half the medicinals that go through there are illegal. At least, in the rest of Dyamondix. So, yeah, there's tobacco and alcohol and weed and crack and all kinds of other shit up here. But since it's regulated, Medix gets profits from every drug transaction, legal or illegal. About thirty percent flat, I believe."

"Ulterior's doing?"

"Yeah. He does lead Medix, after all." He paused for a moment, then said, "Yo, come down 'ere. I, ah...got a favor I need from you."

Intrigued, Antithesis dropped down from the lift and stepped toward him. "What do you want?"

Tyrant grasped Antithesis's wrists and looked into his eyes. "I need you to put your fingers in my ass."


"You good?" Antithesis asked.

"Mmm-hmm," Tyrant replied through a soft moan. With the hot shower water raining down from above, it was difficult to hear him. Steam filled the shower, adding to the heat already on his skin.

Antithesis moved his fingers around a bit, each little movement eliciting tiny whimpers from Tyrant. "Here?"

"N-No...deeper…"

So Antithesis dug into him a little more, feeling Tyrant's insides flex and clench with him. More moans poured from his mouth, louder and longer than before. "Almost...just a little more…!"

Even deeper he went, stepping a bit closer to Tyrant, who was nearly completely bent over with his elbows bracing him against the tiled wall. Antithesis brushed over something, and he pushed on it while asking, "Here?"

Tyrant gasped. "Yes…! There…!"

Nodding once, Antithesis slipped another finger and placed both on either ends of the spot. Slowly he pulled, each centimeter of movement adding new moans to the little space.

"It's almost there…" Tyrant panted.

"You have to help me," Antithesis said.

"I'm trying!" he gasped.

In all honesty, he was. His ass was clenching and flexing, but sometimes that just hindered Antithesis instead of helping him. Despite that, a few moments of pulling later, Antithesis withdrew from his ass. Tyrant breathed a sigh of relief, panting none too softly and letting himself go somewhat limp against the wall.

"Finally," Tyrant sighed. "I'm so happy it's out…"

"What is this?" Antithesis asked, examining what he'd pulled out. It was a small white bottle with the letters VP on the cap. When he shook it, various little objects moved inside.

"You know how I went places?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I made a little stop in Medix before coming home to get some things. And, ah, they were a little more than hostile toward me, so…" He popped his lips and motioned his fingers upward. "Up the poop chute it went."

"Pills?"

"Yeah. Various pills, for specifics. Hair growth, energy, painkillers—couple others too."

"Ah, all right." Antithesis tossed the bottle over the top of the shower.

"Ey, don't throw my shit!"

"You didn't say not to."

With a sigh, Tyrant stood upright. "Yeah, you're right." He turned around and looked up at Antithesis, his features relatively innocent. He cupped his face, then pulled him down for a kiss. Now, Antithesis was dead emotionally, but his dick was far from out of business. Though the silence had been nice, he did experience a tad of withdrawal. Perhaps steamy shower sex wouldn't be so bad…

A louder stream of liquid thudded against the floor, and Antithesis looked down to view a golden shower all over his feet. He pulled back with a groan, and Tyrant snickered.

"Missed me, didn't you?"

"Fuck you," Antithesis spat.

He sighed with a chuckle. "Sorry, babe. I missed you too. Just not in the mood for sexy times right now, ya feel?"

"For once, yeah."

Tyrant nodded. "While we're in here, may as well shower. I'll dye your hair again after we're done in here."

"Decided on a color?"

"Nope. Is up to you this time. What're you thinking?" He grabbed some shampoo from the wall and squirted it into his hand. "Green? Purple?"

"Why not back to my original color?" He scooped up a bit of the goo from Tyrant and scrubbed it into his own hair.

"Nah, that's boring." He started running it through his scalp. "I refuse to be seen with someone who looks bland."

He sighed. "Why not red?"

"Mmm, not feeling red."

"Dark red?"

Tyrant stared at him, his head tilted to the side. "Eh, fuck it. Not as exciting as I'd like, but that'll do for now. Hopefully I can open up your creativity along with your emotions."

"Doubtful of both," Antithesis mumbled. "Where'd you go, anyway?"

"You know that like eighty-percent of all words from your lovely lips are questions?" He stood more directly under the water to rinse out the bubbles. "Pisses me off lots of times. I know you're still learning here, but fuck, Antithesis."

"Tyrant," he said. "Tell me where you went."

"Ooh, there's a command. Well, I ventured off the island." Conditioner soon nourished the length of his hair.

"I know."

"No, not just this island. The entire island. I left North. Visited a few associates in East."

"You're lying."

"Oh?" His eyebrows rose, but his entire expression said, "Keep going."

"You went to West, didn't you?"

"Mmm, proof?"

"Your scent when you got home was far different than when you left. You wear perfume, right?"

"Mmm-hmm. I like vanilla. I always wear it."

"Yeah, but that was a different kind of vanilla. Vanilla Adoration. A past boyfriend wore that shit all the time."

Tyrant chuckled, leaning back against the wall. "Yeah?"

"Why were you in West?"

"I'm not telling you," he said in a sing-song voice. "But I will tell you that I was meeting with people."

"Who?"

"People."

"What kind?"

"The living kind."

Antithesis narrowed his eyes and pinned him against the wall. Tyrant didn't struggle nor seem fazed in the slightest. He just smirked.

"What do you plan on doing to me, eh?" Tyrant questioned. Arrogance laced his tone. "No. Lemme rephrase: what can you do to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. What can you do to me?"

Antithesis just stared. He knew where Tyrant was going, but he had no legitimate reply. What could he do?

Tyrant sighed. "Well, lemme give you a few options. Most obvious one would be physical assault, whether through beating my ass or ripping my ass apart. If you go with beating, you can probably win. Physically, you're far stronger than I am. But I'm more skilled with weapons, and I have weapons hidden everywhere. If I get away for even a moment—which you know I will—your ass is injured far more than mine. And then we go to ripping. Well, no matter how rough you go, it won't break me. I love it when you're rough, baby. For me, rape from you would be lovely."

He snickered a little. "Ooh, and then there's murder. You could kill me for being noncompliant, but I wouldn't be able to tell you anything. Plus, that wouldn't benefit you at all. I'm your best shot at survival here. Without me, who do you have? Ulterior?" He scoffed. "He'll sell your body and its parts if it can make him profit." He cupped Antithesis's chin and moved his face closer so their foreheads touched. "So what can you do to me? Jack shit."

Tyrant spit in his face, and Antithesis pinched his eyes shut. When he put it that way, Antithesis did seem rather powerless. He had solid justifications behind each of his reasonings, and the more Antithesis thought of it, the more unreasonable that violence against him seemed. He opened his eyes to lock them with Tyrant's glinting ones.

No matter how arrogant, impulsive, and destructive he was, Antithesis couldn't help but find him extremely tantalizing. Antithesis had always thought himself a hunter, dominant and powerful. But Tyrant...he took it like prey, but he worked like predator. The more Antithesis attacked, the more Tyrant danced away and attacked in his own way. But that didn't matter. No, not at all. In fact, it made the challenge all the sweeter.

He leaned down and captured Tyrant's lips in a passionate kiss. For the first time in a long time, Antithesis didn't see sex as an obligation or inconvenience. No, this was desirable. Exciting. Even...no, it wasn't fun yet. Not until he could bend Tyrant to his will. Getting a name like "Emperor" or "Puppetmaster" did seem intriguing…

Tyrant broke the kiss gently and tilted his head to the side, allowing Antithesis to play with his neck. He nibbled and licked, leaving red spots and bite marks on his skin. Little moans trickled out from Tyrant's mouth, and his head tilted back. His hands drifted to Antithesis's shoulders, and his legs drifted apart a bit to accommodate Antithesis's hardening member.

"You wanna move?" Antithesis murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Move locations. I could drop you in here."

"Mmm...all right…"

"Good. But first…" Antithesis grabbed either of Tyrant's thighs to spread them apart, then rammed into Tyrant's hole in one thrust. Tyrant threw his head back and released a loud moan. Seemingly experienced, he wrapped his legs around Antithesis's waist and clung to him. Antithesis kissed him deeply, assaulting his mouth as he exited the shower. Tyrant's bathroom was more like a spa, so naturally he had a massage table in there. Never once breaking the kiss, Antithesis laid him on his back and pinned his wrists to the table. Tyrant didn't struggle in the slightest, instead just arching his back and moaning into his mouth.

He didn't hesitate with thrusts; he plunged and pierced with all of his might, each impact sending a shockwave of pleasure into him. This dominance was what he lived for. This was what fueled him. This was what would propel him forward.

Tyrant's body spasmed, and his member shot liquid onto Antithesis's abdomen. Antithesis popped within him moments later, and Tyrant broke the kiss to scream his name. Antithesis stared down at him as he panted, the thrill of dominance filling him. This was one area where Tyrant couldn't beat him. Not unless Antithesis was tied up, anyway.

After cleaning himself—Tyrant could fend for himself—Antithesis slipped his prison pants back on and made to leave.

"Oi," Tyrant said.

Antithesis looked over his shoulder to see Tyrant still laying on his back. "What?"

Tyrant lifted his arm and motioned Antithesis forward. He went over, but Tyrant remained in the same position.

"What?" Antithesis repeated.

Not even bothering to open his eyes, Tyrant motioned to the left. "Cabinet...grab me a bottle."

Antithesis looked over to see a tall cabinet against the wall, and he went over to open it up. Within were many spa amenities—towels, lotions, oils—but on the bottom shelf was a row of small purple bottles. Antithesis retrieved one and brought it to Tyrant, who finally decided to sit up. He popped the cork off the top, then gulped down the liquid inside easily. With a sigh he set it down.

"I got a question for you," Tyrant said. His voice was a tad raspy, and Antithesis didn't know if that was from the sex or the nature of his question.

Antithesis stood at the edge of the massage table, his hand resting on the top.

Tyrant cleared his throat, then asked, "How comfortable are you up here...culturally?"

"What do you mean?"

"You think you can talk as strongly as you walk?"

Antithesis shrugged. "I haven't had to talk much."

"Mmm, I guess you're right. I'll go with you, then."

"On?"

"A little meeting between the heads of each district of North. I really don't wanna go, but I can't leave you there alone to ruin me. I'm already gonna get yelled at. Basically, we're discussing district relations. Particularly mine."

"Oh, I wonder why."

He chuckled. "Many do. Anyway, you'll get to see the heads of this place. You've already met two. Wonder how the others will react to you."

Antithesis did, too.