TITLE: YOUR DEEP BLUE EYES

RATING: M

BETA READER: Not Beta Read

WARNING: M/M; A/U; EXTREME OOC

DISCLAIMERS: D. Gray-man and characters belong to Katsura Hoshino's

A/N: Hello my friends. This story I had hoped to have out a month ago, but turned out to be more of a challenge then I'd planned. Sorry the chapter hasn't been beta read that's because I find it extremely difficult to find someone who sticks with me—I scare them off.

I pray you enjoy the story as it unravels through the chapters and look forward to hearing from all my friends and readers. Have a wonderful weekend.

SUMMARY:The hot rock star known to all as the Crown Clown, aka, Allen Walker was every man's wet dream, including Yullen Kanda, known as Kanda. With being famous, every man Allen's dated has only been interested in the man behind the masks fame and money—that included his ex of three years, who didn't know he was the Crown Clown in the first place. Allen's ready for someone solid in his life, but fears he'll never find that special someone who would love him for only him and nothing else.

Kanda's been having one-night stands since the break-up with his ex-boyfriend four years ago. He's ready for a lasting relationship also, but living on a ranch he figured being gay wouldn't go over well with the local ranchers or townspeople. So it's only been a dream—one he would like to build on. Two men who want the same thing, but what's the chances of them building their dreams together—one a rancher and the other a super rock star—will fate bring them together.

Your Deep Blue Eyes

Chapter One – Allen

A loud 'C' note reverberated off the music room walls from a white, grand piano that sat near wide-patio doors. The effulgence of sunlight left a checkered pattern across the floor and up the grand piano from the patio door's individual panes that were divided by shadows.

Allen Walker sat on the piano bench in front of the keyboard where his right finger still held down the key for a moment longer. Allen's left elbow was perched on top of the instrument's music shelf where his head rested sideways in his white-gloved hand. Again, he tapped the 'C' key absentmindedly and looked out the patio door deep in thought.

Walker always wore, at least, one white glove on his left hand. He was born with an unusual textured red arm and hand with black fingernails. The red color and texture of his left limb had been a cruel act of nature. Its appearance of veins ran up and down his arm with scale-like features that felt no different than any normal arm and hand.

Allen was born in a small backwards village in England—backwards in the sense they believed in mystical phenomena's. The townsfolk's, as well as the church, would hiss and snarl abominable cursed damnations at Allen's parent's that their child was born from the devil himself because of his grotesque, red-appendage and black fingernails that resembled nails from a claw—known to all in town as the devils spawn's limb. Granted, the black fingernails, if not groomed could resemble nails from a claw. So, since Allen's childhood he has worn long-sleeves and a white glove on his left hand to cover them up.

The young musician looked out over the beautiful fields of the estate. The summery weather blew wisps of warm air through an opened patio door. It felt refreshing. Allen inhaled deeply and sighed heavily. This year's tour for the Crown Clown was coming to a close with one more concert to go in Dallas, Texas; they would fly out the night before the concert.

After the concert, the band's first European tour would start in seven months which meant their newest album had to be completed within that time frame and released before they went on the road again. Allen had ten more songs that needed to be written as well as practiced then recorded. What Allen needed was to get away to some peace and quiet place without the constant interruptions—maybe then he could form a least one collective thought of ideas—he just couldn't concentrate in the house.

The young musician rubbed his forehead with his fingers over the red pentagram tattoo. Man he was tired. Allen sat straight and turned to his reflection in the mirror on the wall and looked at the red mark on his face. The fascinating thing about the tattoo was it didn't deter from Allen's beautiful attractive appearance, if anything it made his facial characteristics more interesting.

Allen had learned through the years not to hate the mark as ugly or hate his unnatural left-red arm, for he had been surrounded by people at home who loved him for who he was—never commenting, or fearful of his limb. Their support had helped him to accept the mark and his unnatural arm and hand as he toughed it out with classmates, who taunted him endlessly, and people who stared and made nasty comments about him.

He glanced from the mirror to the further wall where a painted portrait of his adoptive father hung. Walker had been orphaned, a second time, at the tender age of four when his adoptive-father of two years, Mana Walker, had died. It had been his uncle, Neah Walker, and his guardian, Cross Marion, who had taken over his upbringing after Mana's death.

Even though Allen had been young when Mana had died, he missed him. It had been Mana who discovered the mark had been tattooed on the boy's face when the town's priest in England took the child away from his parent's as a baby and placed it there as a symbol of the evil archfiend, Akuma. The Akuma was an ancient mythical demon who was believed to eat the souls of people.

In his search, Mana had found the town records that documented the mark was placed there to instill fear into the town's folks, warning them of the evil spirit that dwelled within Allen and that he could possibly eat their souls. Of course, no such creature existed nor did Allen eat souls, but the town believed it. It was that ridiculous belief that had sent Allen far away from his homeland to a foster home in America where Mana had adopted him.

The strange red-tattoo was on the left-side of his face, the same side as his tainted red limb. It started with an unusual pentagram on his forehead where a line traced down and severed his eyebrow and scarred his eyelid before it slightly hooked on his cheek; the red line continued down his cheek to his chin. An extra red line ran parallel under his lower eyelid. Allen had learned to accept the tattoo as a child, but now it was easier with so many young people having tattoos everywhere on their bodies that no one cared.

Allen stared at Mana portrait and wished he could remember more about the man. So much time has passed it was only in photos and portraits that reminded him of what he looked like and a fraction of his mind remembered his jolly laugh. With Mana's death it had put chaos and fear into the small child's life.

After Allen's adoptive father had died there was only his Uncle Neah he had as family and one other person. Neah Walker owned a large chain of hotels, Noah Hotels, and was very rich. But Mana had known his brother could not curtail these business trips and travels and would not be able to take care of his son full-time. After all, his brother was a successful business man. That was why he had been wise to appoint Cross Marion, a good friend of his adoptive father, as the boy's guardian who also became part of his family.

It had never bothered Neah not to be the one to raise Allen himself, because he had never wanted to be saddled with a child, but he also would not deny his adoptive nephew the good things in life. He loved his brother dearly and would not turn his back on the child he had chosen to call his son—Allen was all the family he had left. The only thing Neah was strict about was the music his nephew played, but other than that he paid little attention to anything else—that he left up to Cross Marion.

Again, Allen perched his left elbow on top of the music shelf and rested his head back in his white-gloved hand. He stared out the windows. Weird, why was he even giving this any thought. Maybe because he felt he wouldn't be the famous Crown Clown if it wasn't for his uncle Neah's early intervention. Heaven knows his life wasn't easy back then after Mana had die.

It had been Allen's famous uncle who had noticed the piano talent in the boy early on. So, when Allen became of school age Neah enrolled him into a prestige music school in California to formally learn piano. He attended his lessons after his regular school classes and most weekends which began Allen's life as a concert pianist at a young age.

Before Allen had started at the prestige music school, Cross Marion and he didn't lived near his uncle. This had put the poor child in a dire situation that had him torn between the two adults over the first couple of years after Mana's death. Allen had preferred to live with the long, hair redhead, Cross Marion, who was strict but was always there for him when he needed a guiding hand, though he loved his uncle too and wanted to please him as well.

With Allen's enrollment in music school, far away from where they lived, it brought with it the decision that Cross and he would have to move closer—this was the only reason Cross finally agree to move closer to Neah. His guardian had never liked his uncle for reasons unknown to Allen. The move had actually alleviated the problem of bouncing the boy back and forth between the two adults, and would hopefully allow Allen to see his uncle more often.

But even after Cross's decision, the fighting between the two men continued as to where they would live when they moved. Allen had listened to the loud arguments between his uncle and guardian. Simply put, Neah wanted them to live on the estate, Cross didn't.

The disputes had frightened Allen—he was only five or six years old at the time. The young boy had shook with fear when he caught the only two people he knew as family come face-to-face with tight knotted fists at their sides as if ready to strike at any given moment. Each sported angry scowls on their red faces and the confrontations were so intense and animated that Allen felt sure one of them would be seriously hurt. Then after all that energy was spent, Cross conceded to live on Neah Walker's estate—in a separate house with Allen while the boy attended school. Thank goodness no one was ever hurt.

Allen shivered. Why did those thoughts still bother him and where in the hell were they coming from? Was he having a meltdown or burnout? He has heard about people who work in the entertainment business has had that happen to them, some even have nervous breakdowns. Fuck, that's the last thing he needed. He has played piano all his life and wrote music since middle school, now was not the time for such nonsense—he had too much writing to get done.

Hell, he had played piano for audiences from a very young age and loved it. Allen had mastered the piano easily and enjoyed the spotlight only on him. His talent and appearance of innocence on stage had made the boy an overnight success to his public. Playing piano was like being in heaven to the young boy.

Allen ran his fingers up and down the keyboard totally in thoughts about his past and how difficult it had been with his uncle to be able to play rock music. He was nine when he had fallen in love with rock and roll but could only dabble with it on the piano when his uncle was away.

Good old Uncle Neah. He would only allow Allen to listen to his favorite bands CDs, but never allowed him to play them on the piano. Allen chuckled when he thought about the times Neah wasn't around that he toyed with rock music on his home piano in his bedroom, but Allen was smart enough to never play it when Neah was around. Heck no, if his uncle ever found out he would have had a conniption fit.

His uncle's strictness about what music he could play only made Cross encourage Allen even more to pursue his desire to play in a rock band one day. The white-head chuckled as he looked out the window and remembered Cross would buy sheet music for him. It had been hell to find places to hide them from his uncle. Allen often thought it was Cross's way to defy his uncle's order because of his disdain for the man. Though the deceit had always made him feel guilty for going behind his uncle's back.

Cross had even set up and encouraged Allen to take voice and singing lessons. Boy was his guardian's surprised when he heard Allen's beautiful tenor voice that was complimented by his piano playing. It did not go unnoticed by his redheaded guardian the serene look on the boy's face when he was entranced by his music that he mostly wrote for himself at that time.

Well, uncle Neah, look at me now, I'm a famous rock star, Allen thought. It was fuckin' hard, but I did it even when you tried to stop me along the way. I'm glad your efforts didn't work. He really shouldn't knock his uncle like that because he had started his music career from a young concert pianist to the Crown Clown rock star he was today, whether he wanted to admit or not.

A low whistle came from the white-haired young man as he thought about the Crown Clown band had started at college in secrecy.

"Wow, it's hard to believe it has been that long since the band was started." Allen hadn't realized he had spoken his thought out loud.

Yes, it had all started in Allen's freshman year at college. It had been the first time he had been away from his Uncle's watchful eye and felt comfortable enough to step out of his classical piano playing to seek out his other style he loved—rock music. This was not to say that he was not still sought after for piano concerts, because he was, and he performed at every opportunity.

That first week at college he had found four other guys on the campus that played rock music. They got together and had a few jam sessions for fun. But, Allen, Matador, Tokusa, and Bak Chan, all discovered immediately they synced as a group and started to practice seriously as a band even though they didn't have any place to play outside of the garage they practiced in.

They had only been together three months when Madarao had been approached by a girl that knew him from classes. She would actually flirt with him in classes. She had heard about him being in some sort of rock band and asked him if they would consider playing at her sorority house for a Halloween party and promised her he would ask the group.

At the same time, the sophomore tried her best to snag a date with Madarao for the night, but even though she was pretty and was skillful at flirting she didn't stand a chance. Madarao had a boyfriend he deeply cared about and girls never were a fit for him. His boyfriend would be the only date he would take to the party.

When Madarao presented the request to the group they were excited about the idea and all agreed to do the gig. The only catch was they had to come in costume. Allen had one other problem with playing out in public; he had to keep his identity a secret from his uncle Neah and that was understood by the members of the band. The last thing Allen needed was for his uncle to find out about him in a rock band and not strictly playing classical piano—that would have dire consequences.

Immediately they had gotten together on a Saturday afternoon to discuss the gig. They settled themselves in comfortable overstuffed chairs with lots of beer and snacks they brought with them. It was sort of a celebration for their first gig—anything for a small party.

The four of them tossed suggestions around about costumes to wear. Not only that, but they had to have a name for their band as well. The guys pounded down the beers and came up with ridiculous ideas for various costumes that they all joked about with bouts of chuckles and thunderous laughter that brought tears to their eyes.

The fun afternoon had slipped into the late evening hours by the time the four came up with their costumes. Allen had decided he would wear a clown outfit. It was something his adoptive father had loved—clowns. The group picked on him about the big, red nose and hair that would stick out like Bozo the Clown then someone suggested he should wear a crown on his head instead of a hat and to add a mask for the secrecy he had to keep.

Allen, who never drank until college, had enough beers in him that he agreed to the absurd idea. That's when they came up with the name for their band, Crown Clown. It made perfect sense. Allen would be going to the party as a clown with a crown and a mask to hide his identity, plus Allen was their lead singer, piano player and the one who wrote most of the songs they played. It only seemed right that he be called the Crown Clown—nicknamed Crown for short.

The night of the Halloween party their band had been a huge success. The mystery that surrounded the man in the clown costume with the crown and mask kept everyone intrigued and added zeal to the band. The band members had been hounded with questions that night about who the man was behind the mask but not one of them caved in and told.

Allen had been eternally grateful for their reticence. He believed his uncle when he threatened to remove him from college if he found out about his involvement with any rock band. So after that, whenever they played out no one knew who the man was behind the white mask. Hence the band, Crown Clown was formed with Allen's identity kept a secret except for a few select friends outside of the band. But it was later in his junior year of college his uncle did find out.

Allen stared at Mana's portrait again then glanced around the elaborate music room his uncle had renovated just for him. He had been so fortunate that his Uncle was wealthy and that he came here to live. Hell, he had always been humbled and appreciative of everything his uncle gave and did for him. He grew up on the estate with everything any young boy would want, he even learned a lot from the people who worked there.

The young musician sat up straight and gazed out to where he could see the ranch part of the estate. It had been his favorite place to be when he was growing up. Of course, that was once he and his guardian had settled on the estate, and Allen had adjusted to his new school. By that time the two adults finally had simmered down. It was then Allen's life took a turn for the better. The one thing about their move to the estate that was healthy for Allen was his access to his horse full-time and could ride whenever he wished which helped even out his moods.

Allen stood up from the piano bench and walked over to the open patio door. He could see his white stallion stand out amongst the other colored horses in the corral. God he loved that horse. Maybe he would go out for a ride later.

It had been the horses at the ranch that had kept Allen sane through those stressful years in middle and high school where he struggled for acceptance from his classmates. It came to be as Allen grew up that his only joy came from riding, working with the estate's horses and playing his piano—maybe because he had very few friends.

It had been the foreman from the ranch on the estate who had taught Allen to ride, both English and western along with roping steers and gathering herds of cattle. Allen's proficiency in his riding ability had won him countless ribbons and awards in both equestrians. His love for the animal held an interesting aspect for the boy. Allen had a calming effect on the equine as if he was some sort of horse whisper. So, with this natural gift Allen had been born with he learned to train horses in his own unique way.

Though the white-haired boy didn't need to help out around the stables he did it anyway. The men who worked on the ranch came to love Allen as their own and who Allen referred to as his "uncles". Over time, Allen became a huge asset to the ranch foreman as he learned how to run the business side of ranching during his junior and senior in high school. Allen's hard work and his diligence made Cross proud of him.

In the distance, five ranch hands were herding some cattle towards the biggest corral, probably to get them ready for the client who bought them. Allen went back and sat on the piano bench. He hasn't accomplished a damn thing the whole time he has sat there. That accusing stark white lined sheet music glared back at him, daring him to put some musical notes on its clean canvas.

Damnit, what was wrong with him? He wasn't having a meltdown or burnout and definitely not a nervous breakdown. He was just exhausted from the long string of concerts and it has been exacerbated by the shenanigans of his ex-boyfriend, Tyki Mikk—who created the worst havoc in his life. Damn the man and his distractions—they made it difficult for Allen to write.

The asshat couldn't get it through his thick skull their relationship had been over with for years but Tyki continued to insist it was not. He was a blatant idiot! Allen pondered the thought as he pressed the 'C' key and his mind wandered inattentively. Every since college Tyki has been nothing but a pain in his ass and trouble.

Damnit, if only he and his friends hadn't gone to the campus pub café after the Halloween party to play darts and pool, he wouldn't be dealing with all this extra bullshit. That was the unfortunate night Allen met Tyki Mikk who had walked into his life and changed his fun filled life for years to come.

What Allen hadn't known at the time, because he was naïve and Tyki was the first man he had really been attracted to, was Tyki had done his homework on Walker. He knew Allen was a very rich kid with an uncle that owned a large chain of hotels, that the white-haired teenager received a hefty allowance and brought in money from his piano concerts. Tyki had always thought of Allen as a pocket filled with endless money.

The man was a charmer and swept Allen off his feet and within a short time they became boyfriends. The whole time they had dated he didn't know about Allen's involvement with the band. How Allen had ever kept his secret from Tyki about being the Crown Clown he didn't know. Maybe it was because Tyki would never come to any of his piano concerts, so when Allen played out with the band Tyki just figured it was another concert—none the wiser as to what went on.

Allen felt he should have known the man didn't love him by the way they had sex. The first time Tyki had been exposed to his left limb he was grossed out and had never allowed Allen to remove his long-sleeved shirts, or the white glove he wore on his left hand. He didn't want to touch Allen's unnatural arm, or have Allen's disgusting red hand caress him. It was that way from the first time Tyki and he had made love until the end of their relationship.

At first Allen thought Tyki just needed to get use to it, except he never did. The man wouldn't even unbutton Allen's shirts for fear it would slip off his shoulders, so Tyki lifted Allen's shirttails to gain access to his lover's chest. It was strange because none of the band members cared one way or the other about his left-red limb or the mark on his face.

Allen stared out the patio doors and hit the 'C' key again and held it—the stir of irritation in his belly felt sour. Why hadn't he followed his own instinct when he felt the 'bad boy' attitude and wild side from Tyki immediately?

"Well dummy, because it was that "bad boy" attitude that had attracted you to the man in the first place" Allen scoffed out loud a dull pain stabbed at his chest.

He had known intellectually that he should not have gotten involved with Tyki, but his body and emotions for the man told him something entirely different. How many friends had tried to warn him? Then only to discover later that he should have listened to his own intuition and friends. The last year Tyki and he had been together Allen had been completely miserable. The bastard had treated the young man horrifically.

Tyki's charm had changed after the first year and-a-half they were together—after Tyki knew Allen was in love with him. Allen's boyfriend's once protectiveness turned into possessiveness and Allen had begun to feel trapped in his relationship well before the end of their second year together.

Allen had been accused many times by Tyki that he was seeing other men which was totally untrue. Allen denied his lover's claims, but that had not stopped Tyki from taking Allen by force as punishment and to remind his white-haired boyfriend that he belonged to him then moved in with Allen immediately to protect his asset. Allen hadn't realized how weak he was as a person until his boyfriend lived with him and things went from bad to worse.

In Allen's junior year in college, Tyki and he had lived together for almost a year. It was the middle of their third year together as a couple when the band went through a dry spell. For months Allen hadn't earned any extra money from the bands performances and his uncle had been late sending him money. It had been that same year during Allen's gig drought that his uncle Neah found out about his involvement with the rock band and had cut off his allowance—probably why his allowances hadn't arrived. Two weeks later the icing on the cake came when Tyki left him.

What did Tyki want with a boyfriend who could no longer cover the majority of the bills and his extravagant entertainment expenses he piled up when they went out? Without his lover's allowance and extra money coming in from his performances there was no need for him to stay with the white-haired musician and cast him aside.

It wasn't that Allen didn't have money of his own, he did. He had the money from all his piano concerts he'd earned since very young. When he performed at concerts the money was automatically deposited to his trust fund. A trust fund he could not touch until he was twenty-five years old. It was done for the boy's own protection by his uncle and Tyki didn't know about it.

During their entire time together, Tyki barely helped out financially anyway, but that last year they were together his boyfriend had not contributed any money towards rent, food or bills and had instead walked out on Allen leaving the white-haired young man with debts and huge expenses.

It was shortly after Tyki had left him that Allen learned about his lover's indiscretions with other men while they had dated and after they had started living together. He had heard somewhere that people who accuse you of some fictitious act are usually the one's doing them.

Allen's eyes blurred with tears as he remembered how he had felt like a fool. Not once had he picked up on Tyki's cheating, or accepted that he had been abused by his boyfriend—his manager had tried to tell him. After the breakup, Allen had suffered emotional for over a year and-a-half while he tried to pull himself up by his boot straps and carry on with his life; at least what he felt he had left for a life—thank goodness he had the band to concentrate on.

It had been sometime after the first year Allen dated Tyki that his guardian had hired a manager for Allen and the band, Howard Link. Cross had hired Link also as a bodyguard to protect him if Tyki tried to physically hurt him. Link had been the one who stood by his side during Tyki's abuse for the gorgeous long, blond-hair manager with pretty blue eyes had never been able to enlighten Allen about the Tyki's wickedness—he just wouldn't believe it at the time. Allen grunted.

His manager had taken both jobs seriously, but Tyki slipped through the cracks with his forced sex and abuse when Link couldn't be there to protect him. It was his own fucking fault if he hadn't made excuses for the low life every time something bad happened to him, like bruises he couldn't hide. But Link had never given up on him no matter what happened. Link stood by his side even when he dealt with the pain and humiliation after their breakup. Allen smiled. The two had become best friends and still are after five years together.

The worst part for Link was that Allen wouldn't tell him right off about these horrific acts of abuse after he returned from whatever had taken him away. Allen had felt too humiliated. So, by the time Link had learned about these abusive acts there wasn't much he could do but to threaten Tyki to keep his hands off the boy. After Tyki's and Allen's breakup, Link vowed he would never allow his friend to go through a situation like that ever again.

Allen tapped the keyboard again wrapped in his thoughts about his past, the same blank page of sheet music stood in front of him. The page now has become something to stare at not really registering it in his mind. Allen rubbed the palms of his hands in the sockets of his eyes. Man he was tired. I must be exhausted if my mind's wandering back over my relationship with Tyki and why the hell am I sitting here? Oh yeah, music, I have to write music.

He looked outside again and tried to rack his brain for something to write down to start a new song—but nothing came to mind. He was still mulling his past over in his mind when he jolted upright startled by Link's abruptness when he flung open the music room's door and announced that Tyki was there. Allen's quick motion to stand made the piano bench screech across the hardwood floor as the back of his knees pushed it backwards.

Allen's ex barged into the room and pushed Link out of his way as he stormed further into the room. Link shrugged his shoulders when he looked over at Allen aspirated, but the white-haired man nodded for his friend to close the door and leave the two alone.

"What do you want now, Tyki?" Allen asked annoyed a scowl on his face when he looked over at the intruder.

"Allen what are you doing to us? When are you coming back to me," Tyki whined like he has done so many times before. He advanced a little further into the room.

"Tyki, there is no "us"," Allen grounded out evenly. "What relationship we had has been over for years so obviously I am not coming back," Allen scoffed and continued scowling at Tyki annoyed as hell.

"And, if you would remember correctly, you left me, and stop sending me those goddamn white orchids," Allen groused rising his voice at the end. He wished the guy would just go away…for good.

Once Allen and his band had become an overnight success during their senior year in college, Tyki had not stopped badgering Allen to come back to him even though Allen has had numerous lovers since Tyki's betrayal and abuse. What Allen feared most was becoming too involved with any man because he seemed to pick out the most demented guy in the room.

All the dates he has gone on and tried to establish a relationship always seemed to end because they were only interested in his fame and money and not the person behind the mask. It had finally gotten to where after concerts, Allen and Link would go to gay bars and Allen would pick up some random guy to fuck. Link stood outside whatever hotel room Allen had chosen as his bodyguard in case the man tried anything Allen wasn't willing to give which was usually trying to top him.

Allen has never been able to have another man hold him down and fuck him, something he had always enjoyed but it brought back too many memories of him struggling to stop Tyki. On a few occasions men tried to dominate him who was never gentle but rough and crude. Allen's violent exertion against these men only made matters worse that Link had to intervene. Then he'd spend the rest of the night consoling his friend.

The one thing Allen like about being in a bar without his mask, he was anonymous which gave the young musician more freedom—no one recognized him without his mask. But even than the men Allen picked up and took back to a hotel room who didn't try to dominate him, he would never allow to kiss him. He just went through the motions to satisfy his libido and his fuck partner's, but no one had ever been able to make him feel sexual whole again after Tyki's betrayal. It was as if Tyki had killed something inside of him.

"Ah, come on Allen. I made a mistake…"

"Yes, you bloody bastard!" Allen snapped harshly. "You made a mistake by not staying when things got bad and the money wasn't coming in. You left me with all the bills and debts when I needed you the most!" Allen groused angrily. "On top of that, you were sleeping with other men while we were together as a couple!"

"What do you really want, Tyki?" Allen grounded in a low harsh voice. He hated this guy who kept showing up when he had finally gotten over him and had been for years. When was Tyki going to stop this insane stalking and harassment?

"Well, you of course. You have to admit we were great together even as lovers once you loosened up…" he was cut off in mid-sentence.

"Loosen up?! Great together?! Let me remind you, Tyki Mikk, that before the end of our second year dating you forced yourself on me, over and over until you broke me, or what was the term? Oh yeah, once I "loosened up" as you put it."

Allen's face was beet-red with anger. He had felt violated by Tyki. And even more so when he had found out about the numerous lovers' Tyki had over the last two and-a-half years they had been together, but it was over, he did not need him, he would never again feel like a trapped animal in a relationship...Never.

The confusion Allen had carried about Tyki's forced sex had taken him months after the man had left to understand the meaning behind why Tyki had done it and that Allen had done nothing to deserve such treatment. He had been an emotional mess. To be honest he still was with men and sex.

"You can leave now, Tyki. You have said what you came to say and you know where I stand on the matter," Allen said wearily. The slim musician just wanted the man out of his house—this arguing tired him.

"There was one other matter I wanted to discuss with you before I leave, Allen. Since we were together for three years, I feel I deserve some of the money you are now earning. My lawyer…"

"What?!" Allen screamed his anger renewed.

"Deserve my money?! Are you insane? Tell your goddamn lawyer to go to bloody hell and you with him! Now get the bloody fuck out of my house and don't even come back!" Allen shouted at his ex. He slammed his fist down on top of the piano and cursed the damn man's smirk on his face—that enraged him more than his blasphemous words.

"Now!" Allen shrieked loud enough that Link shoved open the door and looked at Allen to see if he was being attacked.

Much to Link's relief his friend was physically okay but not emotionally. Link received a stiff nod from his fuming friend which gave him permission to forcefully throw Tyki out of the house. Link grabbed Tyki firmly by the arm and twirled him around to leave.

"Oh, and by the way, Allen," Tyki commented over his shoulder as he yanked his arm back from Links grasp, "the sex sucked," another powerful insult that invisibly slapped Allen's face.

"I'll get my money from you one way or another." Link grabbed the asshole again, this time by the man's elbow and squeezed his fingers tight enough it made Tyki flinch, and hopefully left bruises. Link escorted him out of the room then the house. Once Tyki was taken care of Link came back to the music room to talk with Allen.

"Can you believe the asshole wants part of my money? That he deserves it? Damn him, hasn't he ruined my life enough?" Allen spewed frustrated by his ex's intrusion. He swore the man would drive him insane.

Link walked up to his best friend and gave him a hug then pulled away.

"Allen, he's a scumbag. I am sure he has no legal ground to stand on to ask such a request. First off, it wasn't three years you lived together and secondly, you two had broken up before you became famous."

Allen quieted. He moved and stood in front of the opened patio doors and looked out over the fields of the estate. He was deep in thought when Link stepped forward and stood beside him. Link allowed the silence his best friend needed and stared outside too. Allen would talk to him when he was ready so until then Link remained quiet.

They stood side-by-side for quite some time before Allen turned his head and looked at Link, his steadfast friend. Link too turned his head to look at Allen and gasped. He recognized the dull, raw agony of pain and hopelessness that had come back into Allen's haunting eyes. It was what his friend had carried for years that he would never find a loving relationship.

"Allen," Link said softly.

"There's someone special out there for you. Someone who will love you for who you are, as a person, not for your money or your fame…I'm sure of it," Link assured his friend sincerely.

Link's angelic face was enhanced with his golden blond hair the sun highlighted just then and his blue eyes held the promise of hope. Link's such a good friend and protector, Allen thought. What would I do without him and his love for me?

"Do you really think so, Link?" Allen asked longing for such a miracle.

"Yes I do, Allen."

Allen wished in his heart that there was such a person somewhere in this world just for him—someone who would care about him, the person and not the fame—a man who would love him and want him as a partner for life. Was he being a fool to even consider such a dream could come true? He hoped Link was right, that one day he would meet that special person of his dreams.


To be continued…