Right beside his head.

Tyrant stared up at him, his eyes wide. Tears had ceased falling from his citrine orbs, but traces of sadness mingled with his confusion.

Antithesis lowered himself slowly, almost menacingly, touching Tyrant's forehead. His calloused hand cupped Tyrant's cheek, and his lips met the other man's.

The gasp from the crowd could be heard for miles.

Antithesis kissed him hard and long, practically sucking the air from his lungs. When he did pull away, Tyrant was heaving.

"W-What're you—?" Tyrant gasped as Antithesis ran his tongue about his neck. Occasionally he nibbled on spots he knew were sensitive, heightening the sensations Tyrant undoubtedly experienced.

"They want us to kill each other," Antithesis murmured. "But they didn't say how."

He held Tyrant down with the weight of his body. Skillfully he ripped open Tyrant's jumpsuit, and he moved his ministrations to his nipples. Tyrant's back arched, and his arms tensed. Moans burst from his mouth, though it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself.

"Fake it," Antithesis ordered. "Make it as loud and excessive as you need. Just make sure the judges can hear."

He pulled off Tyrant's boxers, and Antithesis released his member without removing his clothes completely. After stroking himself into erection, he lathered himself in saliva and rammed into Tyrant's ass. As he'd hoped, Tyrant let out a massive scream. Antithesis threw his head back and pinched his eyes shut. The sounds of disgust from the audience had subsided, now replaced by stunned silence.

Grabbing either of his legs, Antithesis rammed in and out of him mercilessly. He wouldn't cause Tyrant harm, of course, but he'd probably limp for a time. Better than death, he supposed—at least it felt good.

Both let moans, grunts, cries, and screams escape from their mouths, albeit Tyrant's were louder and more genuine.

With a grunt reminiscent of rusty machinery grating against each other, Antithesis released into Tyrant's ass. Tyrant cried out his name in the fakest voice Antithesis had ever heard. Still, that was what he wanted.

He didn't give Tyrant a chance to rest before proceeding. He pulled out of his ass and went to his member. Before it could even consider softening, he had his mouth wrapped around the shaft. Again Tyrant arched his back, this time in a much more exaggerated manner.

Just like that, Antithesis thought. He sucked harder on Tyrant's member, as if he could withdraw his semen just from that. Pre-come dripped out from his tip, but nothing else seemed to escape. Not yet, anyway.

He trailed his teeth along the sensitive shaft, and he could practically feel Tyrant shiver. His reactions were strong; hopefully they wouldn't subside any time soon. Knowing Tyrant, however, that wouldn't be a major issue, especially if he was faking it as instructed.

He sucked and slithered about Tyrant's dick, and surely enough, semen burst out like champagne from a bottle. Along with the liquid, a loud cry released from his mouth. Antithesis wondered how his vocal cords hadn't shattered already.

Antithesis kept the semen in his mouth for a time, sloshing it about and mixing it with saliva. Once he felt it was the right consistency, he opened his mouth, and it coated Tyrant's upper body in a grotesquely erotic display. He thought he heard someone vomit from the stands.

Unlike normal, he didn't lick up what he'd expelled onto Tyrant's body. Rather, he left it there, and he moved down further to his ass. He plunged his tongue into the hole, spreading Tyrant's legs apart all the while. It was tight, damp, and mildly disgusting inside, but if anything would disgust the onlookers, it was this.

And, oh, it did.

Screams and cries of outrage burst from the mouths of spectators, and based on how it sounded, some tried to throw things over the fence and at Tyrant and Antithesis. Not that they could, though. Even the people on the scaffold were too far away.

Antithesis pulled off of Tyrant's ass and returned to his chest. Like melted ice cream the liquid trickled about Tyrant's body, and like a child Antithesis eagerly licked it all up. He spat it out once finished, though. Cold semen didn't taste pleasing. After wiping his mouth, he smashed his lips to Tyrant's once again.

They remained that way for a few minutes, until a gunshot rang throughout the Roundfield that placed a bullet right next to the duo. Antithesis took his lips off of Tyrant's, and he looked to the judges' booth. A gunman had a rifle with a smoking barrel pointed at them. A man he assumed to be Beguiler, Pits' leader, stood beside him.

Antithesis held his gaze sternly.

"Morinaga, Tatsumi, I have news for the both of you," Beguiler boomed, his voice bitter and scathing.

Antithesis sat up and pulled the mess called Tyrant up in his lap. He felt and looked small, his face bright red and breaths coming in pants. Antithesis stroked his hair lovingly, keeping him close—almost protecting him from harm.

"The judges have never made an exception in ending a fight in the Royale, especially not the final match. Today is no different. However, another first was made today—the payoff of both of you by an individual judge. You are both henceforth free of the Royale, but neither of you are victors, and so you will receive no reward. Leave this Roundfield and end this disgusting display immediately."

Part of Antithesis wanted to continue that "disgusting display," but that would be cruel to Tyrant, who had already fallen asleep.


Boos and curses escorted Tyrant and Antithesis as they left the Roundfield. As was customary for the winner—though neither technically was—they walked out with sheets covering the top of their bodies, though they did have clothes on underneath.

Only half an hour had passed since they had gotten "paid off" from their fight before they left. Tyrant, as Antithesis had expected, walked with a slight limp in his step. Both stared forward, stone-faced and silent, not sparing those who stood on either side of them a single glance.

They'd apparently be meeting the judge who had bought them their freedom, and they would be taking them home. So for about two blocks they walked, until they reached the destination previously agreed upon: a shady-looking alley with garbage and rats having an orgy. A man in a black coat with a hood leaned against the wall of one of the buildings, a cigarette extending from his mouth.

"Are you the judge?" Antithesis asked.

He pulled off his hood, and in the most typically ironic fashion of life, Ulterior's face greeted them.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" Tyrant shouted. Had he not been temporarily incapacitated, he would have pounced on Ulterior.

"What? I may be the head of Medix, but I get bored, too. What better way to pass the time than watch frightful men and women kill each other?"

"You bought us out?" Antithesis asked. "Why?"

"Well, as interesting as that display was, watching two fags have rough sex isn't very pleasing to watch," Ulterior said flatly. "That, and I like Tyrant far too much to let him suffer like that. So I took all the money I made from taxing drugs and bought your freedom."

"You're such a bastard," Tyrant said. "I love you."

Antithesis backhanded him.

"Fuck you," Tyrant mumbled.

"Ah, such a loving relationship you two have." He tossed his cigarette aside and stood upright. "So, shall we take the underground?"