Tarnished

Disclaimers and Warnings: I don't own either Miyavi or Hakuei and I don't claim to have any clue about their preferences in the matters of love or associated activities. The only thing I own is the alternate universe in which this story happens and quite frankly, I'd love to see the law suit about me owning it without the proper paper work to prove it.
As I mentioned, this is an AU in which neither of them is a rockstar, they're just two hot guys who spend the night together. To say that they're out of character is like saying that the space is pretty big. The fic is also shameless male on male action so before you choose to read on, you should consider whether you really want to do so. Still here? Good. Then I humbly present to you...

Tarnished


He walked down the trashy streets without a purpose, only a glimmering hope that tonight he might once again be that much closer to oblivion. To an unaware onlooker he might've looked like one of the many male hookers who preyed on these dark streets, dressed in his skintight leather but the blank look on his face told the difference. His dark eyes spoke of desperation and urgency instead of jaded seduction, his body language a lonely submission as opposed to the blatant offering of the rent boys.

The blowing wind ruffled the beautiful male's long dark hair in its artisticly done ponytail as he pulled his leather jacket closer around him, trying to preserve some warmth. This was all part of the act he defined himself with, relishing every sensation his human body could feel. Every night he walked these streets to satisfy the craving, the need he had felt for aeons and tonight was no different, searching for the one. He was realistically aware of the pathetic futility of romantic dreams of the one and only as for him there was only the one for the night.

Many had praised his appearance, in and out of clothing. His innocent face and slender body with his aura of darkness, an invitation to tarnish his long ago banished purity. He had heard every compliment there had ever been invented but he never ceased revel in the lust in people's voices as they spoke of him in such manner. But no other compliment satisfied him as much as the times he was compared to an angel, the very thing he no longer was. His beauty might have come from his creation, but the seducing taint in it was his own choosing. Perhaps people thought that through him they could see a piece of heaven. He always appreciated the irony in that, as through the people's passion he escaped farther and farther from the cold, callous and unfeeling beauty of God's own realm.

The streetlights brought very little illumination on his path but it didn't matter. The bright neon signs painted their hues on what little of his pale skin was visible. Letting intuition guide his steps, he entered one of the several quiet, smoky clubs on the street. He didn't spare a glance towards the other people but made a straight line to the bar and ordered himself a drink. The one he was looking for would come to him, they always did. The sweet burn of the strong alcohol slithered down his throat as he downed the contents of his glass, his black lipstick leaving its mark on the rim.

After a few minutes he deemed it warm enough to take off his jacket, revealing his black pvc top with accessories of a similar nature and thusly giving everyone's imaginations something to feast upon. The collar caressed his neck and its multiple hoops were practically a cry for someone to take a hold and lead the wearer to a world of sinful pleasures. He could feel a pair of eyes looking at him, a little more insistent in their admiration than the rest and the dark haired being turned around to seek the source. His gaze was answered by a handsome blond who gave him a grin and walked up to him, the air of confidence around him not wavering even for a moment.

This was a game he knew so well, the thing to whet the appetite of his addiction. The blond's deep brown eyes scanned over his lithe body with open appreciation for the svelte beauty. As he sat there, the line between the seducer and the seduced blurred and the stranger commented: "You look lonely." He nodded, with the tiniest hint of a smile gracing his lips: "A little." The blond looked into the deep brown eyes, partially hidden behind dark chestnut bangs and enquired: "Then I hope you won't mind if I'll keep you company? I'm Hakuei."

Both of them knew that the question didn't entail deep, meaningful conversations or anything even more innocent and harmless, but a permission for meaningless, mindless pleasure. The desirous being knew that the man would be the one to fulfill his needs tonight, and answered him: "I don't mind at all...Hakuei. It would be most welcome."


Author's notes: I hate to leave this off here but I've suddenly developed a horrible writer's block in the middle of this and I'm hoping that by posting this, I'll be able to get some of my inspiration back. I know it's barely PG-13 now but the continuation will pretty much be pure smut... This fic was originally inspired by a great song with the line "God knows I don't want to be an angel", and I started working my way upwards from that. It turned into a fanfic only when I was chatting with a friend of mine about the features of the angel, and that damned scheming vixen showed me the Miyavi bondage pics. Needless to say that I didn't even try to resist the temptation.