Gorgeous Nightmare

[Levi DAmico]

Events back-dated to the 10/09/2014

Levi had always determined that he was surrounded by morons, but not just your standard idiot whose only threat of making fire came when they tried to rub their brain cells together. No, it seemed that he was surrounding by Oxymorons too.

His routine nights were both strange and typical. Though he wondered how the balance would change as he got more and more accustomed to what he was now stuck with. He had an eternity to figure it out, if this Vampiro matter was genuine, but how could he refute the possibility given all he’d seen, done and experienced?

Cinnamon Cherrywhip – or CC as they both preferred – had taught him a lot about how his world had changed. Her demonstrations left a little to be desired, not that he expected much from a hooker. If anything, her actions were familiar to him. He wouldn’t have been soft on teaching anyone about anything, though would he have necessarily chopped off their leg to make a point? Actually, yeah. He probably would have.

Really, if he thought about it, her actions were harmless. She was responding as she’d learned to. A lost limb would grow back like cut hair, so was it really that much of a crime? The only thing that really bothered him about her actions was the fact that she was in the position he was used to being in. Levi wasn’t happy taking orders, not from anyone. His life always depended on it though, so it wasn’t a case of just throwing his toys out of the pram and expecting to be coddled; Levi had to be smart if he was going to control things from a subordinate role. So even while this ***** drove him crazy, spat on his pride and threw him around like a spare sock, he was going to have to treat her like family.

In terms of the other Family though, they were on his back most days and he couldn’t do a thing about it. Every time the sun rose, he was a dormouse in winter. He couldn’t figure out what exactly it was that compelled him to hibernate throughout the day and nothing he did ever seemed to make a difference to the fact. He’d tried to avoid the sunlight itself – knowing that was bad for Vampiri – but even blotting out the windows did nothing to help him withstand the coma-like sleep. He would have turned to some uppers had he not learned from the fact that nicotine was worth **** to him anymore. Besides, he was already addicted to enough things. He was quickly running out of ideas and his pride was such that he couldn’t ask CC anything about it just yet; he’d seen enough of her for a while.

As he thought about CC and the Family from his horizontal position on the hotel bed, he began to recap on just what exactly had happened last night. He found CC in the Catacombs and they’d had a chat. He was being fairly amicable up until the point she suggested he was a homosexual again. So he cursed her out – both by words and by intent. He’d remembered the last time he’d cursed her that it had cost him a leg, but, she was too good at pushing his buttons. He was expecting a come-back of course, but instead, CC had just grinned at him with that same greedy, vicious smile reminding him of a mutant shark. She’d done something that she wouldn’t confess, he was sure of it. Although it was as likely that she was leaving him to agonise over nothing simply to shake him up a bit. He would have done the same damn thing, which was what he convinced himself he was doing with that Sepsis girl.

She’d been intruding on his thoughts again. The first time she’d done it he was ready to take her life, but he’d managed to stop and think just in time. Not only was her intrusion his cherry-pop when it came to Mind Speak – and he really didn’t like it – but she had also come telling him about a prosthetics store. It was like a really bad joke. He’d gone and had his leg chopped off not a week before and here she was offering him a fake one. Was this a coincidence or another attack from CC? He’d emailed CC to ask, but even though he was sure she wouldn’t tell him the truth, he took her for her word and sent an email to this cheeky ***** Sepsis. It was easy enough to find her email address, even a novice like him could do that much. Besides, she’d left him with her calling card – her prosthetics shop invitation. In a very polite email, he told the ***** not to intrude on his thoughts again. But the ***** didn’t listen. Not so much as a day later she spoke into his mind again, telling Levi how rude he had been to tell her how to use her powers. He sent her another email outlining her idiocy and hypocrisy, but it wasn’t the last he’d heard from her. Just last night she was in his head once again – trolling. He was about to puke with rage.

Yes indeed, he was surrounded by morons, but he had to be careful about going to war with them. His regular avenues for digging up information weren’t entirely available anymore. How could he explain to his contacts in the Human world that they were searching for dirt on people in this Vampiro world? There was no way to be delicate about it and any form of shady business would just make the Patriarca even more suspicious about his activities and intents. The last thing he wanted in the world was for Carlos and his men to figure out what had happened to him because they’d want a taste of the power too. He couldn’t let that happen. Clearly the only route forward was to develop himself to a point where he wouldn’t need anyone for anything, but in the meantime, he would need to make some new contacts – some undead ones.

Levi wasn’t exactly sure how that would work, how he would meet some useful Vampiri, but neither did he have the time to think about it as his phone began to ring. He checked the screen for the caller, but of course there never was one. The Unknown rang three times before hanging up. Levi sat up, waiting for it to ring again and answered the call immediately.

[Levi DAmico]

“Levi?”

Oh great. It was that stubborn, interfering Japanese ********.

“You there?” Shiro asked.

“ What do ya want?”

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all day, again. Where were you?”

“What do ya want?”

The Japanese man growled under his breath. “We’re done with the Taiwanese at last—”

“Good.”

“Yeah, it is,” he said dryly. “Just thought you should know.”

“Is there anything else?”

“We do need to talk, but it can’t happen over the phone. I need to see you in person. Are you still located in Canada?”

Levi loosed an angry breath.

“Either you give me the co-ordinates or I track you down. It’s that simple. Seeing as you like control so much though, I’ll at least give you the choice.”

Levi could actually hear the obnoxious grin on the other man’s face. He wasn’t about to be backed into a corner, but it wouldn’t take too much for Shiro to track him down. His cell phone was pretty much untraceable, but pretty much wasn’t good enough when Shiro was involved. Levi decided to see how much he could stall the other man.

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

Shiro sighed before answering, “I’m on my way to you. I just need you to decide whether I turn up unannounced or not.”

Levi was silent for a while, just listening to the background noises from Shiro’s cell phone. It sounded like he was in a public place; Levi could hear chatter in the background, though not that much of it. He could also hear that these voices were at a constant volume, suggesting that Shiro was probably stationary. If Shiro was telling him the truth, then he was probably on a train. This wasn’t excellent news for the Vampiro.

“Cut the crap,” Levi told him. “You’ve probably been tracking me for hours.”

“That’s true. I’ll be there in about 10 minutes actually.”

“Brillante…” He took a moment to think before asking guardedly, “Anyone else know where I am, or just you?”

“I haven’t told your Family if that’s what is concerning you. And I won’t, given your… circumstances.”

“Good,” Levi said. Shiro barely knew the tip of the iceberg, but it was nice to have some kind of backup. “So is there anything else?”

“Well honestly I’m just trying to keep you in one place,” Shiro laughed.

“ I’m hanging up now.”

“Fine. Be seeing you soon.”

Once the call had come to an end, Levi returned the cell phone to the chip-board nightstand. Really, he hated all this sneaking about; it was taxing on expenses, time and his pride. He felt like he could trust Shiro more than most, even if the belligerent sod was about as honourable as a house cat. Sure, feed him and pet him and he’ll be loyal enough inside your house, but the minute you turn your back on him or happen to pass out, he’ll eat your face and **** on your remains. It was just as well that he was a cat person because dealing with Shiro would have been completely impossible otherwise.

Levi crossed the small, dark room to the wardrobe, cursing out hotels when he opened the doors to retrieve a shirt and pants. He hated those little clothes hangers you only get in places that don’t want you to steal them. The wooden triangle was detachable from the hook so you could put your clothes on them, but the hook stayed locked around the pole. He didn’t know why he hated them so much, but he just found them fussy and unnecessary. Who would steal clothes hangers? Could you really just sell them on in such bulk that you could put small hotel chains out of business? And if they weren’t to sell, what crazy ******** hoarded clothes hangers? Petty bastards, Levi thought, just before another thought pushed it out of his mind: Shoes. Where’d they gone?

“Ah crap,” he grumbled, his eyes catching the glint off two sodden Italian loafers in the trash can. He knew he’d forgotten to do something the other night. “Pompinara,” he growled, a remark to that Sepsis woman. If not for her, he theorised, he would have remembered to pick some replacements up on his way back to the hotel from the Catacombs. Having no shoes didn’t completely douse the possibility of disappearing before Shiro could get there, but it certainly made it moist. Not that he would get that far anyway on just the one leg.

His leg was healing nicely, though for some reason it hadn’t grown back as he’d imagined it to. He imagined it would grow back in layers under a scab, like any wound did, just on a grander scale. That didn’t happen. Instead, it seemed to faze back into existence, looking more and more solid as time went by. It never felt solid, though. It only seemed that way. It was like an illusion really, where his ‘powers’ were creating some kind of trick of the light – or darkness – to make it look like it had grown back, but you could put your hand clean through it as if passing through a shadow. He still had to wear a prosthetic leg just to get about – there wasn’t a way in hell that he’d keep on hobbling. Levi didn’t know when he’d be able to put weight on his leg again, so he tested it out each night to see if it had ‘fully healed’. He was slightly worried that strapping the prosthetic on was keeping it from growing back immediately, but he made sure to keep it off for as long as he could. With Shiro on his way though, that wasn’t an option.

When he was dressed – albeit shoeless – Levi decided to step outside of the room for a smoke. Although his nicotine craving was never quenched, it made him feel a tiny bit better for having something between his fingers, something filling his lungs. CC’s words came to his mind when he was lit up, leaning over the balcony of the first floor. He didn’t need to breathe anymore – well, old habits die hard and he took great pleasure in exhaling the grey cloud into the air as if he was blowing it into her face. Flicking the ashes over the railing, he watched them fall and quickly realised he wasn’t alone anymore.

The Japanese man walked casually across the car park, looking completely alien to his surroundings. His long black hair, which was almost the height of him, was tied back into a high pony tail, leaving the shorter strands of his fringe falling either side of his eyes to disappear into his all-black attire. The man’s pale olive skin practically glowed amidst all that black, emphasising again the very dark features of his eyebrows and the obsidian polish of his eyes. He looked ethereal, like he could fade out of existence with a change of the wind. Levi grinned as the man came to a stop a short distance away in the car park; those owl eyes studying Levi in the same way he’d studied Shiro.

[Levi DAmico]

“You look even shorter from here,” Levi sneered.

The 5’8” man didn’t give an inch. “Buonasera,” Shiro said flatly.

“Yeah, I doubt it.” He paused to watch the reaction, but Shiro remained statuesque. “So, you coming up or what?”

Shiro nodded his head and made his way around to stand next to him. Levi turned to greet him. “What happened to your shoes?” Shiro asked.

“Lost them.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I lose a lot of things,” Levi said with a wry grin.

“Fascinating. Shall we go in?”

Levi glanced at the room beside them, the door wedged open so he didn’t have to take his keys or break in. He waved Shiro in, following leisurely behind him as he was all too aware of how it might have appeared to onlookers. He didn’t want to seem too eager or too casual as if he had something to hide. Even after Levi had closed the door behind them, the disturbing thought remained with him as he watched his companion. Shiro was just a few paces in front of him, unbuttoning his trench coat before he laid the heavy garment across one of the room’s chairs. Beneath the trench coat, Shiro had on a high-collared shirt; black again, with glossy buttons and faint silver detailing. Levi couldn’t tell if the man’s fitted outfit was formal or casual so it was difficult to judge the nature of their pending conversation. Since Shiro hadn’t brought any luggage aside from a small brief case either, Levi decided that it was just better to get the questions out the way. He leant his back against the door, crossing his arms over his chest and began the interrogation.

“So what do you need to talk to me about?”

“This whole operation here,” Shiro began. “I don’t understand why you haven’t left and returned to Boston, or why you never answer your phone until late in the evening. You seem like a completely different person these last couple of months and I can’t help but notice that all these changes started the moment you got here.”

Levi read the concern in Shiro’s eyes and tone and it put him on guard. He didn’t say a word and just stared at the other man, determined to not give anything away, resolved to intimidate Shiro into giving up this hunt he was on.

“So what’s going on? Why won’t you leave this place? What am I missing?”

Levi rolled his shoulders, working his muscles against the solid frame of the door as if he were a tensing cobra.

“You haven’t gone and impregnated some poor girl, have you?”

Levi couldn’t help but laugh. “God no.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s unexplored territory up here. With the Calabria gone, it’s virgin land. It’s just taking some time to get **** set up is all.”

“Well I’m not surprised given how you’re practically a one-man-army at the moment.”

“Can’t afford to move people around too much. If I need to bail, it’s better not to have too much **** invested. It’s standard business, Shiro. I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up about it. The Family are fine with things the way they are.”

“I am not as blind or as easily satisfied as they are, Levi.”

Levi rolled his eyes, “No kidding.”

Shiro frowned in response and the men locked eyes as though they were commencing a stand-off. Shiro clearly wanted a better explanation; almost as though he wasn’t convinced by what Levi had told him. Maybe the man sensed that there was more to it than a business venture. The man was a particularly observant son of a *****, Levi thought. Perceptive, sharp, confident, stubborn, proud, and perfectly capable of taking care of himself in a fight as well as a debate, Shiro – or Shirosame as the world knew him – wasn’t just some idiot who would take your first answer and run with it. Likewise, Levi was the same kind of pig-headed son of a ***** who wouldn’t stand for someone poking their noses into his business like that. Thus, the stand-off persisted for two long, boring minutes before one of them cracked.

“So… how was Taipei? You almost look tanned.”

“Go to hell,” Shiro spat back.

“Maybe next week,” he said with a small grin to himself. “You do look different though. Did ya cut your hair finally? Find some men’s clothes to wear for once? Maybe take off all that make-up?”

“Yes, very amusing, Levi. I’m a pale woman,” Shiro growled back. “I’m always so surprised how you manage to remain fresh after all these years.”

“I think your sarcasm box is broken and stuck in the on position.”

Shiro continued to glare as Levi smirked to himself.

“Bet you’re happy you took that 13 hour flight now ain’t ya, ****-face.”

“Well, actually it gave me plenty of time to think things through.”

“Is that right?”

Shiro smiled, and as he did, his entire expression changed. Gone was that ugly sneer and those hateful eyes, and in its place, a wolfish grin emerged. Levi didn’t know what to expect, but he wasn’t going to be taken by surprise. He pushed himself away from the door – just quick enough to be stable on his feet and ready to move, but not so swift as to put the fight into the other. It wasn’t that Shiro was easily provoked exactly, just that the two had come to expect some form of physical opposition whenever they were together. So when Shiro stalked toward him, Levi waited to see what he would do.

With burning interest Levi watched Shiro come, watched sleek muscles shift and bunch under the satin black of his clothes – just like a panther. Any other person might have recoiled from the danger in those eyes, in those movements, but to him, it was a challenge. When Shiro wandered into range, he rebelled against the instinct to grab the younger man and pin him to the floor – to show him who was boss. His fists curled, ready to deal a blow if he needed to, prepared to miss because of this one’s smaller, quicker stature, but then perfectly resolved to attack again. He might not have been as fast as even this mortal with just the one leg and a prosthetic, but he had the stamina to go all night.

[Levi DAmico]

Shiro’s hands snapped into fists and the tension in the air was pierced, not by a punch or a scream, but by the chirp of a mobile phone. Two sets of eyes moved to the bedside table before they were back on each other.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Shiro asked.

“Ain’t anybody important. So, no.”

Shiro looked over at the phone one more time, but Levi kept his eyes dead-ahead. The ringing stopped after a few more moments.

“So what were you thinking, eh?”

Those obsidian eyes returned to the Vampiro, appearing somewhat bored. “I have been thinking that, with the way things are with you at the moment, we should cease business together.”

Levi felt like he’d been hit by a train; his hair-trigger temper taking the shock and turning it into something he could use. A single brow flicked up and those cold, angry eyes stared the smaller man down.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Levi said softly. He may not have raised his voice or even cursed, but fury dripped from every word.

Not being the least bit threatened, Shiro turned his back. Levi was ready to pounce and rip the ******’s hair from his scalp, but he held himself back – barely. He watched the other man move toward the dresser where his trench coat lay over the opposing chair. He watched how Shiro’s head hung low and listened as the man’s typically poised tone turned into a gust of air.

“You have been less than reliable recently, and I can no longer continue to make exceptions for you. I rarely give a second chance, and with you, I’ve found that I have lost count of the chances.”

Subconsciously invoking his Shadow abilities, Levi marched over to the Japanese man. Barely leashed power, animalistic and carnal, hummed through his body, but his movements were almost completely silent. Shiro had no idea he was there until he was shoved into a turn and grabbed by the throat and belt. Levi had picked him up, carried him across the room and pinned the smaller man to the wall with ease – far more ease than he used to need as a Human, that was for damn sure. It took more effort to hold himself back than it would to break this warrior’s neck and the intention must have been evident in his eyes because Shiro looked quite terrified. Eyes flickering, Shiro’s hands darted around the hold on his throat. Levi knew that his training would have forced him to wedge a gap between them and break away, but even after 26 years of martial tutoring, Human instinct won-out and Shiro could only concentrate on trying to breathe.

“You’ve given me chances, huh? Just who the **** do you think you’re talking to?”

Despite his threats, despite his hand around Shiro’s throat, he could see the man wanted to speak his mind. He allowed it, loosening his grip just a bit, and fully prepared to choke the fight out of him if Shiro tried anything.

“You wanna say something so bad? Go ahead you little ****.”

“Put… me… down.”

Levi smirked, his hand snapping shut and causing the other man to wheeze. “Wrong answer. Wanna try again?”

Despite the lack of oxygen to his brain, Shiro’s training seemed to be kicking in. With his left hand – the better of the two – he struck Levi against the row of available knuckles. One good shot would ordinarily trigger the assailant to release from the pain, but Levi’s grip tightened.

“Nope, wrong again. They say that’s two strikes, right? One more and you’re out, ****-face.”

Was he really going to kill Shirosame? The man known as The White Shark because of the kanji of his surname, not to mention because of his attitude and heritage as being the son of one of the biggest Yakuza families in Japan? Probably not. Harming a hair on this pretty man’s head was a death sentence if anyone found out about it, though generally Shiro was just pig-headed enough to never report to his family all the cruel **** Levi had done to him over the years. Despite looking like a high-end prostitute, Shiro was probably stronger than a lot of people and he was so damn ferocious at times that he would fight no matter how impossible his odds. Levi liked how the man wouldn’t be tamed and even after holding him tightly by the throat for a couple of minutes, Shiro had yet to pass out.

Finally, Levi loosed his grip half a centimetre, pushing his face closer to Shiro’s to really stare him down. “Last chance, *****,” he growled, his voice rumbling darkly like a far-off thunder storm.

Shiro took the rare opportunity to splutter back to life, not that he kicked or lashed out. He held Levi’s wrists, his finger nails biting just enough to cause discomfort and his feet hooked onto the wall to take some of the pressure off his throat and hips. He was storing energy, Levi realised, either for a last-ditch effort to free himself or just to maintain his stamina. All this while though, Shiro had kept his eyes trained to Levi’s, almost as if he was looking for direction. Really, if Levi just stepped back to think about it, this whole show was just a pointless exercise. They knew each other well enough to know that despite whatever **** Shiro had spouted about dropping him as a contact, they were going to continue doing business together. Despite their aggravations, they worked well as a team and pushed a lot of power and money around. Levi enjoyed dominating and well, he had to assume that Shiro was fine with being pushed under because despite all the complaints and fights, they never split. Levi had never really given it too much thought before, why Shiro followed him like a puppy when everyone else was forced to bow to the Shark Prince. Staring into those obsidian eyes though, he was sort of forced to think about it; he had to change the subject quickly.

[Levi DAmico]

“So let’s get **** straight, Shiro. You wanna abandon ship because it looks like we’re taking on a bit of water? For all you know, someone spilt a motherfucking drink. Quit overreacting you damn bratt. This **** ain’t over til I say it is.”

At that, Levi dropped the man and stepped away; no care for whether Shiro landed on his feet or whether he was about to counter-attack. Levi took a seat on the far corner of the bed before he turned to look at Shiro; crumpled on the floor against the wall like a marionette cut from its strings. Shiro had unbuttoned his high-collar shirt to give him the freedom to rub at the red area staining his neck, though those black eyes looked far angrier than his flesh. Levi couldn’t help but snort at the face he was pulling.

“What the hell… is your problem?” Shiro puffed out after a short while.

Levi continued to snort. “What, you gonna cry?”

“Grow up.” Shiro took a deep breath, almost like he was stilling his nerves. “This is what I mean about your behaviour, by the way.”

“What in the hell are you talking about? You’re like… my favourite thing to chuck around when I’m bored.”

“Well thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” Levi sneered, leaning back on the bed; his palms supporting his weight. “I don’t think I’ve changed anyway.”

“Really.”

“Yep.”

Shiro took a moment of silence and since Levi wasn’t one for talking all that much, he joined in begrudgingly. Looking around his hotel room, he was searching for something to think about. Although he didn’t examine himself, he was aware of the people around him and he was all too aware of two distinctly similar relationships he had: one with Shiro and one with CC. In the former case, he was the tormentor and abuser and Shiro was the willing victim. In the latter case, CC was the tormentor and abuser and Levi was the not-so-willing victim. Levi knew why he had no choice but to suffer the insufferable cow’s abuse, what he didn’t understand was why Shiro was putting up with it. It couldn’t have come down to pride alone – as egotistical as that Squalo was, Levi knew he had his limits, which left him searching for another reason. Now that he was thinking about it once again though, Levi realised how much he really, really didn’t want to think about it. He also realised how thinking about it made him really, really uncomfortable, making him want to explore this link as much as he didn’t want to explore it. Levi searched desperately for a distraction, instinctively though, his eyes crossed the room to Shiro.

By this time the other man was still sulking, but he’d caught enough rage in his sails to get back onto his feet. He stomped toward the dresser again, lifting his suitcase as he went to place it down on the open surface. Levi expected that this would be Shiro’s great counter-attack; maybe he had a gun in there, maybe a sword. Shiro’s firing aim sucked, but from this distance he might have been able to get a good round off to kill a Human. Levi figured he’d probably have to intervene if it came down to that; it wasn’t like faking his death, or indeed, dying was an option.

“If we’re going to continue doing business together,” Shiro offered; his voice a little hoarse. “We need to establish some kind of communication agreement. Where, when I ******* contact you, you ******* answer.”

“Watch your damn mouth, Jaws. And don’t start barking orders at me.”

“You don’t give me a lot of choice, Levi.” Shiro turned to him, leaning his back against the dresser. “What do you expect of me? Of the world, in fact? To stop existing just because you don’t feel like working right now?”

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and groaned, “This sure feels like a lot of work right now.”
Shiro didn’t respond, but Levi suspected that the prissy queen look had established itself on his girly face.

“Do you reckon I just ignore you all day or something?” Levi asked, looking at last to confirm his suspicions.

“I don’t really know what to think. You don’t give me enough details to form any opinion other than the kind which look detrimental to you.”

“Such as?”

“That you’re either slacking off or…”

“Or?” Levi growled. He just wanted the man to come out and say it already.

“Or there is something so big, and potentially dangerous, that you’re involved in that you can’t even talk to me about it.”

“Oh don’t start getting jealous on me, Shiro.”

“Jealous?!”

“Yeah, jealous. You’re acting like a woman accusing me of ******* around.”

“Don’t be so ******* ridiculous,” Shiro rumbled, crossing his arms.

Levi sneered and stood from the bed. Even with the distance between them, their height difference became obvious; the tips of Shiro’s sculpted, downy hair only came to Levi’s shoulders. Without warning, Levi stalked toward him and made that difference more painfully apparent. Nevertheless, Shiro didn’t give an inch and dropped his hands to the side, so Levi knew he had to push a little further. Lurching forward, he placed one arm either side of Shiro’s against the dresser and pressured the smaller man to lean back or have their faces touch. Shiro tilted a little, but with no place else to go and Levi in pursuit of making him feel small, threatened and uncomfortable, Shiro had to tilt his head a little way to the right to avoid contact.

“What are you doing?” Shiro voiced quietly, angrily.

Levi’s dark eyes were on his throat. His breath and skin was fairly hot for a dead man’s, which was just as well because they were on Shiro’s throat too. Like a dying star burning more fuel closer to its expiry date, Levi burned up thinking about how he could, and very suddenly needed, to steal fuel from Shiro. He was already in an odd state of mood and these heightened spirits only served to encourage him. So when Shiro voiced his question again and gripped the dresser, Levi was on him like a wolf.

[Levi DAmico]

“Well, you want me all to yourself, don’t you?” Levi said, not changing the volume of his voice at all so that it buzzed loudly against the paper-thin flesh of Shiro’s ear. “You wanna be my woman, huh?”

“**** off,” Shiro seethed.

But Levi didn’t **** off. In fact, he advanced.

As Levi ran his hands down the man’s sides and grabbed the meat of his upper thighs, he lifted him that extra couple of inches and sat him down on the dresser. Because the feminine man weighed practically nothing, it had been effortless and it had all happened so quickly that Shiro wasn’t able to stop him. In the surprise, Shiro’s legs were parted and Levi stepped into the safe nook before grabbing the man’s elbows and pushing his torso even further back; at least in this position, he assumed, Shiro couldn’t deliver a swift shot to his nether regions. The briefcase had been pushed back with the shove, but when it met its limit between the wall and Shiro, it began to push back. Levi knew this was a precarious position for the other, but the sense of power he felt just egged him on. Shiro’s protests remained vocal all the while and despite the speed and brutality of the assault, Levi was sure that if he really, desperately wanted to, Shiro could have fought back.

“See,” Levi said; his voice little more than a husky purr. “You do wanna be my woman.”

“Let. Me. Go!”

“Nah, I couldn’t do that to ya. You’ve been waiting for this for, what, four years? That’s when you started getting real concerned for me wasn’t it.”

Shiro glared directly into Levi’s eyes. “Stop ******* about and let me go!”

Deciding he needed an extra hand and not trusting the other man for one minute not to punch him, Levi passed both of Shiro’s squirming wrists into his one larger hand and took hold of Shiro’s delicate jaw line. Titling his head back, Levi got a good view of his neck; a red handprint staining beautiful white flesh. He examined the area for a while, looking up to see that those obsidian eyes were on him. He couldn’t help but grin; dark and wide.

“Ya know, you are[i/] really pretty.” He turned the man’s head to the right, inspecting his profile. “You do look just like a girl. I bet,” he said, turning Shiro’s face back to him. “I bet you wanna be fucked like one too, don’t ya.”

An uncharacteristic flush stained the younger man’s face. Levi watched with a cruel smile before he set his eyes to roam over the man’s figure. Shiro cursed and struggled, but his body couldn’t hide its reaction. His pulse sped up, his breathing quickened, and the colour in his face deepened. At this point Levi was pretty confident that he’d tugged Shiro’s arse right out of the closet, but just to be sure – and partly because he was really enjoying this on a perverse level – Levi decided to drop Shiro’s jaw and wrists, and take hold of his shirt. With one quick jerk, he ripped the shirt open. Small metal buttons arched through the air, bouncing off furniture and falling to the floor with soft thuds. A rash of goose bumps broke over perfect white flesh and when Levi felt Shiro shudder against him, a strange desire broke over him.

Taking Shiro by the throat again, an indignant cry followed biting finger nails at Levi’s wrist and he knew that he was really getting to the Shark. Dragging the man’s face closer so that their lips were a whisper apart, Levi fixed his gaze on those hazy obsidian eyes and grinned.

“Yeah,” Levi said. “I think I’m going to enjoy ******* you...”

***

Movement woke him, though he kept his eyes closed; his body immobile. The mattress shook, the sheets pulling gently, then footsteps thundered slowly around him before eventually leaving through the front door. Levi’s eyes remained closed; almost impossible to open them or lift anything for that matter. It was punishing enough that he was conscious and even behind his eyelids he could instinctively feel the morning light pricking at his skull. It was a miracle that, on Shiro’s way out, that none of that sunshine had flickered in and burned him up; though Levi didn’t actually consciously consider this. It was like being aware on a very basic level, but in his semi-dream-like state he could do nothing to respond. As soon as the room went quiet again, Levi fell back to sleep and predictably, didn’t wake again until the sun had set.

***

The sun had dropped into the horizon by the time he woke in the hotel room. The skyline blushed as if the overabundance of anger and abuse and bloodshed had leaked into it. In fact, whatever wasn’t burnt yellow by commercial lighting, burned peach and violet, contrasting to the glittering of the rivers and streams which threaded deep, Bordeaux waters throughout the city. Levi dragged himself into a seated position, his back putting pressure on the headboard which seemed barely fixed to the wall. The events of the previous night were immediately scarce from his mind, but as he began to come-to and looked around the hotel, the signs of a violent struggle became evident and it started to come together.

Vague, stifling images and a sharp surge of pain confronted him all at once like a tsunami, but when the wave receded, the disseminated portrait of the night before was exposed and hastily revived. Memories of his night with Shiro struck him, filling him with nausea, confusion and horror in equal measures. What the **** had come over him? What the **** had he done? Levi scrambled off the bed, realizing he was still dressed from the hips down at least when both his flesh foot and prosthetic foot hit the ground in a sprint for the bathroom. Reaching the lavatory, he arched over, fingers gripping the rim for dear life. He was compelled to vomit, but his empty stomach was giving him nothing. He was bent over in agony, dry-heaving over an empty bowl. This was undignified and the rage just made him feel even sicker.

Levi had been chained to that toilet for five minutes before the convulsing weakened and he could fall back onto his heels. Pivoting, he found the bathroom wall with his back and tilted his head to the ceiling. It was like he’d been taken over by a fever; his skin was on fire and dripping with sweat, his muscles cramped, his eyes were stinging. As he tried to question it again though, he just found the urge to vomit climbing his insides like an animated cluster of glass. He closed his eyes, intermittently pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his temples. He knew that every time he thought about it he just wanted to turn himself inside out, but he really had to know why it had happened. This was completely out of character for him. As a matter of fact, this was a complete nightmare, maybe even a trifecta. Unfortunately, this wasn’t something he could wake from. How long would he have to live with this waking nightmare?