Disclaimer: Characters and affiliated material belong to Nitro+CHiRAL. I own nothing, I make no profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Based on the anime. Spoiler alert!

A/N: In case some don't know (at least one reviewer asked), Akita here is a double entendre Shiki' uses when he deliberately mispronounces Akira's name. Akita is both a Japanese male name and a breed of dog originating from Japan. Remember that the characters are actually speaking Japanese, but I think most anime fans know how the Japanese "r" sounds like by now? The mispronunciation is more subtle.


The sound of crunching glass woke Akira; the ceramic cup of water that had slipped carelessly from his injured and tired hand earlier. An uncommonly tall shadow stood by the narrow entryway next to the piss-poor small kitchen he never used. "Shit," he hissed and was intent on getting on his feet, but a sturdy body, covered in black, pinned him to his bed before he could do anything.

There was only one man he knew to be that lightening swift. Akira quickly recognized the pair of blood-red eyes, stark in in the dim, half-moon glow coming from the only window in his rented property - a narrow slit above the bed.

"Shiki!", he cried through gritted teeth as he tried to dislodge the bigger man, but the exhaustion from battle earlier made his body feel heavy as lead. He could barely lift his head from all the hits he took to it, let alone fight against the black beast on top of him.

"How did you find me," Akira asked with a grimace at the sound of his own voice; scratchy and shaky with weariness.

"Followed you, of course," answered Shiki, his voice a powerful low rumble that made Akira's lips stretch tightly over his gritted teeth.

He never imagined Shiki would follow him so far from Toshima, and that oversight had cost him dearly. Akira cursed his own carelessness.

"You wouldn't have been able to shake me if you had been more cautious," Shiki said, as if reading his mind. "Now that you've been properly tired out, perhaps you'll be better behaved, hm?"

Shiki's adrenaline-flushed lips drew back in a feral grin, teeth gleaming. The tips of his bangs tickled Akira's face.


Grin still in place, Shiki's predatory gaze trailed down Akira's body. Long lashes quivered delicately as his eyes moved. His white face glowed surreal-like in the waning moonlight. A deceivingly lovely face for such a devil, Akira thought.

"Usually you act like a rabid dog when you see me."

Ever since Shiki killed Keisuke, Akira went to Toshima every week to challenge the champion. Every time he was defeated, his life spared. Their recent fight had been the most bloody yet, leaving Akira with enough cuts that would leave scars, and bruises to keep him from entering Toshima for a week. Oddly enough, Shiki never inflicted mortal wounds on him, or anything too serious to keep Akira from returning soon after.

"Do your friends know you come to me?"

He meant Rin and Motomi. Akira remained defiantly silent. When Shiki received no answer, he bent his head and licked the vulnerable skin of his captive's neck with short delicate laps, like a cat. Akira's breath hitched.

"Mm, sweaty and musky. You like that, puppy?"

The soft, ticklish, wet caresses on that sensitive area were delicious, but Akira would never admit that. He would have enjoyed it better had it been someone else, someone he liked. He despised Shiki for killing his best friend.

He feared Shiki's power, but fear had never kept Akira from facing it head on.

"Go to hell."

"When the time comes," his enemy quipped. "I'll be king there too, and I'm taking you with me, pet."

"Your stupid name-calling doesn't affect me, you know."

Shiki snorted and sneered superiorly at him. "That so?" All of the man's former pussy-footing disappeared when he slipped a hand down Akira's loosened sweatpants and gripped his manhood tight, almost painfully so.


Shiki's deep, rich laughter brought shivers down Akira's spine, made his blood pool around his groin. His eyes widened in horror at himself.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"N-n...let go!"

"That's a stupid thing to say, but I like your defiance. Let me hear that delicious voice of yours scream for me."

Shiki bent his head over his naked torso and rolled his tongue around a nipple before nipping it gently. Akira cried out in surprise and discomfort.

"Be a good boy, now, and I'll give you a treat."

Akira glared into blood-red eyes, baring his teeth. To answer would be to play Shiki's game. A gasp escaped him when their faces were suddenly inches apart. He thought Igra's feared beast would kiss him, but that was too intimate and Akira knew that Shiki's intention was to intimidate and torture, not to have normal, mutually gratifying sex.

Shiki bent his head, lips grazing Akira's ear, and whispered, "Scream."

When had Shiki's hand delved so deep was a mystery, but suddenly there was a finger breaking into his anal canal, pressing right into his prostrate which sent an amazing, but unwelcome, shock through his lower body. His scream turned into a pathetic moan-like whine; his own voice so high he barely recognized it.

This shame burning in his cheeks rekindled his strength, and somehow he was able to buckle hard enough to move Shiki, giving him space to bring a knee up and jam it into his attacker's solar plexus. Shiki gave only a soft grunt but barely flinched. However, it got him to remove his hand from Akira's ass. Then he punched Shiki's temple with everything he had. The black beast reeled back shortly, but it was enough time for Akira to scramble from beneath him and run for his sheathed knife on the table. He slid it from its scabbard as he slew back around to meet the attack he knew was coming.

Nicole Premier had told him what Shiki had done, so he knew the man's newfound strength was abnormal, but it still surprised him when he found himself lifted like nothing more than a sack of rice and slammed onto the table on his back, head crashing against the surface painfully. With no chance to react, Shiki gabbed Akira under his knees and pulled the smaller man roughly against him, legs spread around a solid lean waist.

His bare knife still in hand, Akira brought it up to Shiki's throat. His assaulter seemed only to find that amusing by the wicked grin he gave him.

"Go ahead. If you don't want what I'm about to do to you, if you hate me so much, kill me. Slice my throat open."

Despite the devilish grin and menacing eyes, Akira found Shiki's terrible beauty dyed in moonlight mesmerizing at that moment, so much that he had not realized he had hesitated, and by the time he snapped out of it, it was too late. Shiki grabbed his wrist and pressed so hard the pain forced Akira to loosen his hold on his weapon.

That odious grin came close to his lips, breath blew wetly on his face as Shiki said with all the arrogance of the devil, "You want me, Akira."

It was the first time the dark, frightening man had said his name.

"From the moment you saw me, you wanted me. Your eyes were defiant, proud and very much afraid of me. But they told me enough. They told me you wanted to have me."

Akira gaped at him, recalling the terrifying night they met. "That's not..."

Eyes colored like blood-filled garnets glared daringly and stopped his self-denial. Suddenly they were the same eyes that had paralyzed him that first night in Toshima; not out of fear, but something else. Desire. Was that right?

Shiki's grin was gone and there was only a hint of an unformed smirk at the corner of adrenaline-flushed lips.

Adrenaline-flushed...that was when it dawned on him that Shiki was not as calm as he pretended. This discovery brought not only a stream of satisfaction but an unbelievably strong desire to fight and conquer the beast, to take him as his own.

That desire came to a halt when Keisuke's sacrifice suddenly flooded his thoughts, and with it, refueled anger at his killer.

"Even if I had wanted you that night," he stated firmly, "all I want to do now is kill you."

"Because of that dog that followed you everywhere and did your bidding?"

"Don't call him that!"

Shiki's smirk widened. "It must be nice to have an obedient pet. I'm sure you miss him. Too bad I'm not very good at obeying."

Akira was about to quip when Shiki covered his mouth with his own, plunging his tongue in without warning. If Shiki kissed then it figured it would be violent, painful, and without any foreplay. Akira did not enjoy it one bit. He moaned in abhorrence, but just as he was about to bite on Shiki's tongue, he felt the kiss smoothen considerably. Lips were pressed on his tightly but not painfully, a tongue delved deep but its strokes were firm and commanding without being forceful anymore. The aggression without the bullying made Akira's baleful moans transform into salacious sounds.

When he felt Shiki smile against his lips, Akira knew that the man had accomplished what he wanted. The sudden realization that Shiki desired him just as much made burning tingles travel in the pit of his stomach. He felt himself harden.

No...think of Keisuke. I can't do this.

This man was a deranged murderer, Akira had to remind himself. Which led him to trace back to the night they met, among mangled corpses, still fresh, their blood spilled around Akira's feet still warm; and even among all that, when he was pinned into place by the killer's eyes, he wanted to have him. To posses a dangerous monster.

It only fueled his true reason for coming to Toshima, despite having relatively no choice unless he wanted life in jail. His life up to the point he met Shiki had been colorless, stupid. Unworthy fights, meager cash, eating Solids—maybe something Keisuke brought over, few hours of sleep, and the pointless cycle started all over again.

He had not even appreciated Keisuke back then, too burdened with his own dull existence to notice his friend's hardships and rare loyalty.

Then he saw a horrific sight; a pair of cold garnet-colored eyes and a sensual smirk. The first time he had feared for his life. The first time he had felt desire to live, to go on for something. To have something.

"I'm sick," Akira whispered as Shiki planted wet, slow kisses on his neck and face, sucking in all the right places with the perfect mixture of gentility and harshness. His pants grew even tighter. He shut his eyes. "I'm so sick."

Chuckling, Shiki spoke into the skin of his collarbone, "Aren't we all. Toshima does that to you."

What happened next would probably come back to bite him in the ass.

His sweatpants came off in a single yank. Gloved hands slid up his thighs, roaming hungrily. The fact that Shiki could lose control, like any other man, unwillingly gave Akira the thrills. He fought the urge to spread his legs, to allow those hands to touch him where the pressure was coiled between his thighs.

He could not betray Keisuke. The last expression on the young man's face as he died in his arms haunted him and would eat at his conscious if he just gave in to Shiki without a fight.

As if his thoughts were an open book, Shiki murmured into his hair, "You want nothing less than to have someone stronger than you force you to let go of your pride, Akira. Because you can't allow yourself to do it on your own. Your body's begging me to make you forget him."

The sound of his name dancing on Shiki's tongue, rolling in his deep baritone was positively ambrosial to his senses. He moaned just by those words vibrating in his flushed hot ear. That was the second time since they met that "Akira" had come from Shiki's lips, and not a minute had gone by since the last.

"Shiki," Akira heard himself whisper. He was losing it. Even his voice had a mind of its own now. "I can't," he argued with himself more than with his attacker. "Keis—"

"That man," Shiki interrupted, "wanted to do this to you. He just didn't have the guts I do."

"That's not..." True?

He remembered Keisuke's lust-filled eyes when he had taken Line. He almost thought Keisuke would force himself on him, but his drug-induced rage had overtaken even those desires. Left only the overwhelming urge to kill.

A hand came down softly around his dick, teasing the underside with his thumb, then the slit. Akira fisted Shiki's collar in a half-hearted attempt to push him off.

"A man...that just lusts for someone...doesn't follow them into hell like he did for me," Akira countered with difficulty, breath heavy as he tried with all his might to stave off his appetite for Shiki's hands.

The towering devil slid down his naked body, laughing scornfully as lips brushed the moist head while the skin was pulled back. "You want a pet to follow you into hell? How about being my Akita instead? It suits you better," he said with a playful lick on the exposed tip of his dick.

"No, it doesn't," Akira forced through gritted teeth, then gasped, "That's why you want me so bad. Isn't it, Shiki? It's the same reason you claim I want you. Too much pride."

Shiki pulled his head up and glared at him, his usual garnet-colored eyes glowed like rubies. "Talkative, aren't you?"

All of a sudden, it hit him that Shiki was annoyed by his conjectures. This secret childish nature of the man was rather amusing. There was a youthful personality hidden beneath Shiki's cold, ruthless front. Akira chuckled without meaning to, but it was too late. Shiki frowned, then growled at him.

"Something funny, mutt?"


Red eyes widened then narrowed into angry slits. Shiki was such a prideful creature that he could not take what he liked to dish out. He pulled Akira roughly off his perch, turned him around and bent him over table.

Shiki growled harshly his heated ear, "I was going to suck you off like no one has before but I've changed my mind." With that Akira felt a finger penetrate him without warning.

He cried out and tried to scramble over the table, away from Shiki, but the man's arm came around his waist and held him in place with inhuman strength.

"No you don't. You're not going anywhere."

"L-let go!"

A second finger was shoved in, the leather chafing the walls of his canal. Akira's eyes grew wide as saucers, a strangled scream tore from his throat. That did not feel good at all. It was dry and rough.

"You're hurting me!"

"Serves you right," Shiki hissed into his ear.

Akira turned his head around to glare at his attacker over his bare shoulder. "Then what do you deserve?" His voice came out hoarse and hateful.

Shiki slapped his buttocks so hard that his heart almost came out of his chest from the shock. Akira did not even have time to stop the high-pitched squeal he shamefully let out. To further his humiliation, Shiki laughed and removed his fingers.

"B-bast—" His insult was cut short when the same two gloved digits that had been up his ass were shoved in his mouth. He tasted his own musk mixed with the manly scent of old worn leather and the cloying sweetness of ancient blood. Shiki's fingers penetrated deep and played with his tongue.

It was queerly exciting so it took him a while to realize that he could, and should, bite down on the intruding digits. By then, however, Shiki's face had come down next to his and started licking gently on the side of his mouth, lapping up the saliva running down its corner.

Molten blood pooled between his legs, rushing into his penis and coating it with pre-cum. Too hot. I'm sick...

When Shiki removed his fingers with a chuckle, Akira noticed he had been moaning rather loudly. How was he losing so much control so easily?

Shiki's words came back to him. Did he really want this? It had been such a long time, most of his wretched life in fact, that he had repressed his feelings, so now he did not know what his desires were, or if he had any. A man like that was easy to manipulate. Shiki could tell him anything about his body and desires right now, and it could all seem true even if it was not. Until right that moment, Akira had always believed the opposite: if he had no feelings it would be harder to deceive him.

Until the night Keisuke died, he had always believed he could never be hurt if he had no emotions. But what had hurt him most was that he had foolishly disallowed himself to appreciate his friend while he had been alive and well.

Two fingers pushed into his anal canal again, this time wet with his own saliva so it was uncomfortable and strange rather than painful.

"No," he breathed. He had meant it to be firm, but his voice was not working the way he wanted.

Shiki did not answer and pressed right into his prostrate, making him arch beautifully. Gradually, the fingers made scissoring motions to open him wider. This sent sharp pangs across his hips which did not last long when Shiki took hold of his shaft firmly and stroked, the leather gloves strangely sensual on his sensitive flesh.

He did not want to feel this good at the hands of Keisuke's killer. "Stop! Please!"

In response, Shiki took this fingers out and grabbed his hips tightly, lifted him with ease onto the table and knelt him there, spread his legs so wide that despite being on his knees, his stomach and penis pressed against the table.

Gloved hands knead his hips and waist before coming down to his butt cheeks, firmly massaging the globes. Akira could not stop the shiver and wanton moan that came out of him, heating his thighs and making his heart pound its tiny desperate fist against his ribcage.

His breath almost stopped when those long-fingered hands spread his butt cheeks and a thick, wet tongue started licking the ring of his entrance.

"Don't!", he cried automatically.

Shiki's laughter rumbled against his exposed, cold skin between his legs, where Shiki's face was nestled. Akira was trembling all over. Thighs quivered beneath the other man's hands.

"I love how you keep denying your desires, puppy. Whine for me some more."

Shiki's tongue slid inside and rolled around, its tip wiggling. Akira threw his head back, mouth agape, surprised at the delicious way it tickled. The foreignness of the intrusion only excited him more.

"Your ass is white and smooth as milk. The fuzz crowning your hole is soft and pale, barely there. This," Shiki stopped to demonstrate his point by sticking the tip of a finger into the stretched ring of his anus. "Pink and soft. You have a perfect ass, puppy. I can't stop eating it."

The finger was removed and pressed at the top of Akira's cleft before running down all the way to his sac, then back up to his hole. A violent shiver wracked his whole body at the touch. Akira buried his face into his arms, nails scratching the wood surface.

"It's pulsing with excitement," Shiki murmured. The pervert. But his words made Akira groan.

He was shocked when Shiki stuck his nose in his crack and breathed in. "Little musty but clean. You're a good boy."


"Mm...you make me like this. Who gave you the right to have such a perfect ass?"

Dear Heavens, he thought. Who would have guessed Igra's Ill Rei had an ass fetish?

"I'm leaking so much pre-cum my pants are soaked wet. Let's get to the main course, shall we?"

Shiki is soaked with his own pre-cum. That thought made him so impossibly harder it was painful. It was hard to breath.

Keisuke had flown far from his thoughts when the slimy head of Shiki's dick rubbed teasingly at his opening. Without wanting to—he had no control over his body—he buckled his hips, lifting them higher to welcome his enemy inside him.

One of Shiki's knees came to nestle between his legs as he propped himself better over Akira. The teasing stopped abruptly, the moment suspended with only the younger man's harsh breaths filling the dark room. Then, in one violent shove, Shiki broke into him.

Akira almost lost his hard-on from the pain. His stomach felt like it had been shoved up his throat. He could not even scream, managing only strangled sounds. Tears, large and continuous, flowed down his cheeks from goggling eyes. Any organized thought that had been left vanished. He barely knew where he was, or even remembered his own name. Nothing mattered, all his brain focused on was the pain. He was not even aware he had been sobbing wretchedly like a child until a gentle voice he did not recognize right in his ear (it could not have been Shiki) shushed him.

"Relax, Akira. It will only hurt more if you try to close yourself." Shiki's voice sounded strange and out of character. Strained and perhaps even pained. "Too tight...Akira...relax!"

Pitiful whines and sobs rolled off his slack tongue. He was vaguely aware his cheek resting on the table was soaked wet with saliva trailing down his mouth.


"It won't for much longer if you relax and open up."

Akira did as he was told. He took a breath and relaxed his stinging body as best he could. It took a while. With Shiki adjusting himself on top of him, he could feel the thick shaft of hardened flesh inside him move, sending sharp pangs. Shiki then grabbed Akira's dick and stroked slowly but firmly, playing his thumb around the underside, then sticking the tip of a finger into the slit and rubbing it.

Licking flames of pleasure started to return which helped him relax considerably. Soon he was unbearably stiff again, soaked in pre-cum. That was when Shiki began to move back out part way, then, slowly this time, back in, a little deeper than before. He continued this until he was sheathed inside Akira all the way, their baby-soft sacs touching, Shiki's thick curls brushing the outside of his buttocks.

On his way in, Shiki made sure to rub against that sweet spot barely hidden immediately after entry as he filled Akira's rectum. A few deep thrusts, then shallow, directed straight at the prostrate, before going deep again while still rubbing against the gland.

Shiki continued this pattern as he sped up. Akira's pain had long faded, and pleasure he never imagined possible overtook him. It was almost a battle and a half to control his high-pitched moans from shaming him further.

"Don't kill your voice, Akita."

"But—ah! Ngh!"

"Let me hear it. Let me hear you howl." In order to force Akira to obey, Shiki thrust in much harder, rolling his hips and causing his captive's eyes to roll up and shout out.

"That's it," Shiki breathed out hoarsely, having trouble with his voice as well. "Scream for me."

"Shiki! I-a-ungh! Mm-Imma cum!"

"No you won't. You're gonna wait for me, pet. I'll punish you if you don't."

"T-too much!"

Shiki released Akira's dick, and grabbed firm hold of the top of his thighs, ramming into him without any gentleness or care.

By now this did not hurt him anymore, but burned deliciously. Akira greedily wanted more. His dick was crying pearl-white juice all over his core and table. He felt the stuff trickling between his legs and ass.

He could not hold back. He came hard, screaming at the top of his lungs. Cum shot from his penis, pooling around his chest, sticky and warm. Made him feel dirty.

Not long after, he felt Shiki tremble uncontrollably, his dick imbedded deep inside his guts, quivering and filling his insides with hot fluid. It felt amazing, Akira thought. Sick but exquisite; the thick, hard shaft ripping him open, the molten liquid pouring and overflowing inside him, a dangerous man's shivering and loss of control all because of him.

His body felt heavy and numb. Akira lay on the table, not caring that the odd angle he was in not only should be uncomfortable but degrading. His cheek smushed against the hard but heated table, wet and sticky with saliva. He could barley open his eyes and he was aware that his mouth was slack open and leaking spit.

Shiki collapsed on top of him. He could feel the man's broad, hard chest heaving against his bare back. Shiki's face rested right over his, lips brushing the corner of his mouth, hot breaths mingling with his own.


"Yes, pet?"

"Get off."

"Make me."

Akira did not have the strength to make him. So he fell asleep where he was.

Next afternoon he woke up sore, but he was tucked in bed. His sweatpants on, his chest and hips cleaned. However, the mess on the table was still there. A reminder. Shiki would not allow him to forget, nor let him escape.