More ridiculous fun at the beginning, but don't be fooled. Things are about to take a turn for the worse...

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WARNING: The original, longer version of this chapter contains explicit smut. It has been edited for the rules of FF, so you are not missing any major plot points. Sections within two "+" signs have been edited or removed entirely. If you want to read the full version, check out our LJ (link in our profile)!

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Chapter 4: Heat

Greece feels nothing but the sweat on his body, and even that is vague as he looks around and finds himself... somewhere else. Somewhere hot, and damp. Somewhere with not a lot of air. There is ringing in his ears, and when he looks up he sees a gigantic red fire bell clanging in mid-air.

He shuts his eyes against the ringing and rubs at his temples. To his surprise, the noise fades, and when he opens his eyes he can see something through a haze of smoke. A pole, leading up to a hole in the ceiling. What on earth...?

To make matters worse – or better, really - Japan comes sliding down the pole. He spins around it like he was born with thighs of steel, wearing only a black and yellow fireman's jacket, a helmet, and a black, glittery man-thong, which is more than visible from the angle. "Better hurry, Chief. There's a four-alarm fire down here," he calls up the pole.

Turkey slides down after Japan, ending with a flourish and a kick that displays he, too, has nothing but the helmet, jacket, and thong. He tips the hat and winks in Greece's direction. "Be on your guard; this one's dangerous. You don't want to be-" He slides against the pool, all the way down to a crouch and back up. "-burned."

Greece stares. This...this is...different. He must admit, he never thought of this as a fetish that could do much for him before. But maybe that's because he'd been picturing it all wrong. As in, without Japan and Turkey. Well. He never knew they were so...good with a pole? Oh God. Where is this going?

Kiku reaches back above his head, sliding his ass up and down the pole as he grips it. He eyes Hera through his lashes, letting the bottom of his jacket part to show off his thighs and thong. "You're right, Chief-San. It's so hot, I'm burning."

Sadik goes behind the pole to run his hands up from Kiku's thighs to his belly, parting the coat. "Mmm, steaming." His fingers catch on the string of the thong and he snaps it against Kiku's hip.

Hera thinks he must be drooling by now. Which is not good, because it really is hot, and he doesn't want to waste any more fluid. He realizes he's sweating through his shirt and quickly pulls it over his head. There appears to be nothing here but the chair he sits in, and the stage that the other pair is using. All the rest is smoke and steam.

Kiku makes a light sound, almost a moan, as the elastic snaps against his skin. He grinds his body up against Sadik's, letting him do as he pleases while batting his eyes at Hera, daring him to join them. "We need to put this fire out. Do you have something we can use, Sadik-San? To extinguish it?"

+"I think we'll need a hose." Sadik licks a path up Kiku's neck, grinding against his ass.

Greece groans, shifting uncomfortable in his pants. He wants to touch them, both of them, but he feels like he can't get up from this chair or he'll ruin everything. "So hot...sexy..." He licks his lips.

Turkey backs off suddenly, spinning around to the other side of the pole. "Oh, but our Hera is such a lovely burn. I think we can make him hotter. Why don't you go help him with those clothes? Poor brat is sick...I think we ought to give him a show."

Kiku licks his lips, smirking in mirth as he lets go of the pole and straightens, slinking toward the edge of the stage and sliding off, dropping between Hera's knees. "Why are you wearing so many clothes, Hera-kun?" he asks slowly, dragging his palms up the insides of his thighs.

Hera's breath hitches - he hadn't realized until now how labored his breathing sounded. It must be from this display. He looks down at Kiku, taking off the helmet so he can run his hands through the black silk of his hair. It's just as soft as he knew it would be. "I don't know. Take them off." He's just settling in for what he's pretty sure is going to be the greatest blow job and/or lap dance he's ever received, when the music begins. Drums, and bells.

With the first beats of the drums Turkey takes off the coat, and reveals that the waist of his thong is part of a scarf, shinning with bits of gold. His entire torso is covered in a shimmering glitter that catches the light, showing off each and every move he makes. As the bells start, he lifts and drops his hips, one after the other to the rhythm.

Fuck. The fact that Sadik could move his hips like - oh, YES, like THAT- - was half the reason they started having sex. It was truly an opportunity not to be lost. Turkey rarely dances publically, and has done it only once for him. He's certainly never danced like this.

Turkey moves with the music, a part of it. His muscles roll or jerk, sending the coins at his hips jingling and his body sparkling. He shifts his ribs in a circle, forward and back, side to side, then the hips again, moving his arms out and back in. He turns and shakes his ass.

"Sadik, you need to belly dance in glitter more often..."+

XXX

The real-worldTurkey goes very pale, then very red. He coughs and tries hard to glare at Japan without looking ridiculous. "Were such a thing true, and I'm not saying it is, you would take it to your grave."

Japan tries very, very hard not to smirk, but fails miserably, snickering behind his hand. "Of course. If such a thing were true. Though, if it was, I'm sad I missed it."

Turkey raises his brows. "You would want to see...never mind." He shakes his head and goes back to scowling at the brat. They're waiting to see if the medicine will kick in; so far, nothing has changed.

The slight dose of humor makes Japan feel a little better about their rather hopeless situation, his heart cracking a bit at the sight of Greece looking like that... in his dreams... for the man beside him. He's blushing like mad at the thought. "I'll get more water. In case." He turns around, slipping away, trying not to blush.

"He says your name, you know." Sadik doesn't look away from Hera's face; can't, because that would mean seeing something new in Kiku's. "When he talks in his sleep. He says 'neko-Kiku'. That's like, naked, right?"

Kiku stops in his tracks at the words, but when they finish, he only smiles, shaking his head. "No. It doesn't." He sighs at the thought. He can imagine a little kitty version of himself in Hera's mind, playing with bits of string, curling up in his lap... Adorable.

Turkey sighs. Greece's forehead crumples and the brat mumbles something, making him lean forward to hear - he needs to make sure Greece isn't always whispering his dancing secrets to the world.

"Get naked, Kiku."

Turkey's eyes widen. THAT was not neko. He's sure of it.

Kiku returns with water, smiling as he watches Sadik listening to Hera's mumblings. "Neko means cat. He's calling me a cat-person. It's a very common caricature back home."

"But he just-" Turkey sighs again and shakes his head. This is something they can deal with later. Greece may talk in his sleep, but he rarely says things that make much sense. Turkey's failed at getting any real secrets from him that way for years. He puts his hand against his cheek and frowns. "He's still hot. How long does that stuff take to work?"

Japan's brow crinkles and he moves toward the bed, worry growing fast. "It should've started working within the first twenty minutes..." His hand touches Greece's forehead, and he jerks it away, surprised. "He's burning up!" Immediately runs to the kitchen. "We need ice, Sadik!"

"Ice?" asks Sadik, following all the same.

+XXX+

Hera felt like he was on the edge, fire about to be pulled from his veins by Kiku's lips and the dance before him. But Kiku's suddenly backing away, and it is in his eyes that he sees it first. Fire. Real fire. He turns, falling out of his chair. Whatever nothing there was behind him is now flame, creeping closer. He feels the heat of it searing his skin, smells it, chokes on it.

Hera turns to run, but the wall in front is flame too. The stage is on fire, and Sadik is still dancing, his feet skittering over the flames and turning black, black, dead. "NO! STOP! We have to...!" He grabs Kiku's arm, pulling him to the side. There's only smoke still, though he has a terrible feeling they will soon be trapped. "RUN! Run, Kiku, run!" He searches desperately for a way to get to the stage, unwilling to leave his hated - loved - rival behind.

Japan is still screaming as he's dragged along, fire sweeping fast, chasing their heels and making them run faster. He doesn't know how to run any faster. He sees Turkey still dancing and calls for him, his arm reaching out, but it immediately catches light. He throws himself away from Greece to shriek, dropping to the floor and flailing, trying to put the fire out.

Greece desperately tries to help him, even as the smell of burning flesh makes him want to vomit. But when he moves to smother the flames with his own hands, something catches him by the shoulder. He's spun around to see Turkey, wreathed in flames and apparently unbothered by the way they melt his flesh.

Turkey smirks, fingers digging hard into Greece's shoulder. "Baby's on fire. Better throw him in the water...look at him laughing, like a heifer to the slaughter...baby's on fire, take your time he's only burning!" He cackles, the mask melting into his face even as the skin burns away. It falls to the floor in puddles, leaving him with a burning, sneering skull.*

Hera wrenches back from the burning skeleton Sadik has become, unable to help the fear that threatens to take control of his sanity. Is this all a trap, something that bastard cooked up just to make him squirm? It is all too real, though; he can smell it, feel the heat.

He turns to reach for Kiku, to take him and run, but the face that he meets is a woman's. Pretty, dark haired and dark-eyed, but so sad. Burning; her robes are burning, and he doesn't know how to help her. "M-mother?!"


*[adapted the dialogue from "Baby's On Fire" by Brian Eno, as it is in the film Velvet Goldmine]