It Feels Good To Be Bad - Chapter 1
I have no idea what I'm doing with my life. I found this while looking through my files. It's the prologue to the story I was thinking about starting a while back. Maybe I'll do something with it, If I ever get back to writing like I used to....Anyway, this is short...
Title: It Feels Good To Be Bad
Chapters: P/?
Author: niji_adytum
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I promise
Genre: AU, Yaoi, Crack, and maybe a little fluffy
Rating: NC-17 over all I think
Warnings: Language, Gore
Bands: Alice Nine, The Gazette, [?]
Pairings: Tora/Saga, [?]
Synopsis: Tora was out. He was finally able to live normally. Well, normal for him. But now, he was dragged back for reasons he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Prologue
The dark room was warm, the smell of sweat and smoke embedded into the air. The low lighting along the floor was only enough to see your way through the tables. Though the bodies sitting at them were left in the dark. The quick flicking of lighters, and warm glow of cigarettes and cigars giving a distorted glimpse of their features. Making his way through the trail of pale lights, the raven-haired man pulled out his own cancer stick. Breathing in the smoke, his nausea from the room was lessened slightly. This was the last place that Tora wanted to be. But there was no way he could refuse a summon from his former boss, no matter the location it was to. He had gotten away from his job almost a year ago, but he still couldn‘t help hearing the man out. It was much easier than ignoring him. Most everyone who left the gang ended up dead, or right back in it.
Quickly passing through the maze of tables, Tora avoided the hungry gazes of the women (and some men) who sat at them. To say that he wasn't interested would be an understatement. Though he didn't look much like it at the moment, the raven-haired man did not belong in such a low-class place. From the whores, to the clients that sought them out, this club was the epitome of the underground.
Tora grimaced when a shorter woman approached him. Her hair was long, tied up into a messy bun with strands hanging down onto her marred shoulders. Her halter top barely hung onto her thin body, and her short skirt barely reached down her scared thighs. Over all, her appearance didn’t leave much to the imagination. The tall man didn’t want her to touch him, or to touch her in any way, but he had no choice. Using one finger, he pushed the woman by the shoulder away from him. He didn’t hear what she said, but it sounded offensive, and would probably bother most people who cared. Tora couldn’t say he was one of them.
He walked faster, taking advantage of his long legs and making it to the back of the large room. A man larger than himself stood at the doorway that lead to the back room he was aiming for. Before the rounder man could try stopping him, he held up a crimson red card that held the logo of the club they were currently in between his fingers. The pudgy man quickly stepped aside, seeing that Tora did not plan on stopping in his journey to the back. Good for him. Tora was already not in a good mood for having to be there in the first place. If the guard decided to try stopping him, it would only cause trouble.
Ignoring the people and doors he passed, Tora went straight to the last room he needed. Without knocking, he opened it quickly and went in. Oh how he wished he knocked. Or at least wasn’t in so much of a hurry. Opposite the doorway was a large couch, dirty from the greasy people who inhabited it night after night. The coffee table set in front of it littered with ashes, empty alcohol beer bottles, and some illegal paraphernalia that was common in a place like this. That didn’t bother him though. It was what was on the couch that caused the dark man’s face to distort in disgust. A fat man sat in the middle of the couch, arms draped over the back as well as his head. He wore a dirty white wife beater, stained with sweat. His shorts were simple black gym shorts, and from what Tora would only guess, they were pulled down. His assumption could easily be proven true by the woman who kneeled between the sleazy man’s legs, her head moving up and down in front of him.
Tora cleared his throat, trying to gain the attention of the man moaning on the other side of the room. The tiger growled a little when it didn’t work. It seemed the growled worked in what he wanted as the man’s head snapped up, his already small eyes narrowing even more.
“The fuck are you doing here?” the man glared at Tora, moving his hand to the back of the woman’s head, signaling for her not to stop.
“The boss summoned me. Where is he?” the raven-haired man tried his best to dismiss the vulgar behavior in front of him.
“Tch, he isn’t here. His highness is too good for a place like this, didn't you know?” This sleaze bag couldn’t be serious! If his boss wasn’t here, why the hell did he summon Tora to the rat hole? And why the hell was his phone going off?! The dark-haired man’s eyes narrowed as he pulled his mobile from his pocket, not even checking who it was. As soon as the object was placed to to his ear, a low chuckling could be heard from the other end.
“You’re there, right Tora?” an amused tone laced the familiar voice. Tora wished that he could rip apart it’s owner. He knew now that this was just a game to the other man. Though, it was impossible to carry out his wishes. So, he resigned to playing them out in his head as the other man continued to speak. “The fool in front of you, is he doing something inappropriate?” The tall man was so entranced in his mental torturing he nearly missed the question. His sharp hazel eyes roamed over the scene in front of him. Somewhere during the phone call the whore had apparently finished her previous task, and was now being rewarded with a thick white line of powder. The slimy man just sat behind her, petting her greasy hair as he eyed her. Clearly he had more in mind for using her.
“Is there something in particular you were referring to?” Tora had to ask, since he could see a few of the basic rules being broken.
“So he is then,” a dramatic light sigh from the other end. “How wasteful,” the voice had a mocked sadness to it, and he could imagine how his boss was pouting over his devious smirk. “You’ll take care of it for me, won’t you Tora?” The question was playful sounding, but Tora knew what the man wanted.
“How do you expect me to do it?” maybe he could talk his boss out of it. He didn’t want to go threw with this, as much as the slime ball in front of him made his stomach turn.
“How? Silly Tora. You still carry that precious thing don’t you, in the left side of your jacket?” Shit. Even if it had been almost a year, Tora still carried around his gun. He supposed it was just old habits dying hard. And he couldn’t lie about it, his boss knew him too well for that. “I won’t ask for a souvenir this time, I know it wouldn’t be pleasant to obtain. A picture will suffice,” his boss spoke his orders like it was any normal conversation. “When you finish, come to Omega. Oh, and Tora, make sure you dress nice. I know how you prefer to look like trash,” a sudden buzzing sound. Just like him to hang up without letting the raven haired man get any word in. Not like his objections would matter much. A long sigh left Tora’s lips as he flipped his phone closed. It looked like he didn’t have a choice anymore, but to go back to work.
“Came to the wrong place, huh?” the tiger’s fierce eyes shifted up in front of him. Tora could only grit his teeth. He knew he would enjoy this more than he should. “Tch, must be new to make mistakes like that. How pathetic, you’ll be canned for sure,” the grease ball of a man laughed.
“Not quite,” the raven haired man pulled a sleek black gun from the inside of his jacket, aiming it directly at the face of the man opposite him. Chubby froze in his seat, trying to laugh at the sudden change, but it came out more nervous.
“W-What the fuck are you doing?” he began to squirm, the fear evident in his features. The woman next to him whimpered slightly as she backed away to the other side of the couch. Tora could feel his finger begin to itch on the trigger.
“My job,” his answer was hesitated, but didn’t falter when it left his lips.
Title: It Feels Good To Be Bad
Chapters: P/?
Author: niji_adytum
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I promise
Genre: AU, Yaoi, Crack, and maybe a little fluffy
Rating: NC-17 over all I think
Warnings: Language, Gore
Bands: Alice Nine, The Gazette, [?]
Pairings: Tora/Saga, [?]
Synopsis: Tora was out. He was finally able to live normally. Well, normal for him. But now, he was dragged back for reasons he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Prologue
The dark room was warm, the smell of sweat and smoke embedded into the air. The low lighting along the floor was only enough to see your way through the tables. Though the bodies sitting at them were left in the dark. The quick flicking of lighters, and warm glow of cigarettes and cigars giving a distorted glimpse of their features. Making his way through the trail of pale lights, the raven-haired man pulled out his own cancer stick. Breathing in the smoke, his nausea from the room was lessened slightly. This was the last place that Tora wanted to be. But there was no way he could refuse a summon from his former boss, no matter the location it was to. He had gotten away from his job almost a year ago, but he still couldn‘t help hearing the man out. It was much easier than ignoring him. Most everyone who left the gang ended up dead, or right back in it.
Quickly passing through the maze of tables, Tora avoided the hungry gazes of the women (and some men) who sat at them. To say that he wasn't interested would be an understatement. Though he didn't look much like it at the moment, the raven-haired man did not belong in such a low-class place. From the whores, to the clients that sought them out, this club was the epitome of the underground.
Tora grimaced when a shorter woman approached him. Her hair was long, tied up into a messy bun with strands hanging down onto her marred shoulders. Her halter top barely hung onto her thin body, and her short skirt barely reached down her scared thighs. Over all, her appearance didn’t leave much to the imagination. The tall man didn’t want her to touch him, or to touch her in any way, but he had no choice. Using one finger, he pushed the woman by the shoulder away from him. He didn’t hear what she said, but it sounded offensive, and would probably bother most people who cared. Tora couldn’t say he was one of them.
He walked faster, taking advantage of his long legs and making it to the back of the large room. A man larger than himself stood at the doorway that lead to the back room he was aiming for. Before the rounder man could try stopping him, he held up a crimson red card that held the logo of the club they were currently in between his fingers. The pudgy man quickly stepped aside, seeing that Tora did not plan on stopping in his journey to the back. Good for him. Tora was already not in a good mood for having to be there in the first place. If the guard decided to try stopping him, it would only cause trouble.
Ignoring the people and doors he passed, Tora went straight to the last room he needed. Without knocking, he opened it quickly and went in. Oh how he wished he knocked. Or at least wasn’t in so much of a hurry. Opposite the doorway was a large couch, dirty from the greasy people who inhabited it night after night. The coffee table set in front of it littered with ashes, empty alcohol beer bottles, and some illegal paraphernalia that was common in a place like this. That didn’t bother him though. It was what was on the couch that caused the dark man’s face to distort in disgust. A fat man sat in the middle of the couch, arms draped over the back as well as his head. He wore a dirty white wife beater, stained with sweat. His shorts were simple black gym shorts, and from what Tora would only guess, they were pulled down. His assumption could easily be proven true by the woman who kneeled between the sleazy man’s legs, her head moving up and down in front of him.
Tora cleared his throat, trying to gain the attention of the man moaning on the other side of the room. The tiger growled a little when it didn’t work. It seemed the growled worked in what he wanted as the man’s head snapped up, his already small eyes narrowing even more.
“The fuck are you doing here?” the man glared at Tora, moving his hand to the back of the woman’s head, signaling for her not to stop.
“The boss summoned me. Where is he?” the raven-haired man tried his best to dismiss the vulgar behavior in front of him.
“Tch, he isn’t here. His highness is too good for a place like this, didn't you know?” This sleaze bag couldn’t be serious! If his boss wasn’t here, why the hell did he summon Tora to the rat hole? And why the hell was his phone going off?! The dark-haired man’s eyes narrowed as he pulled his mobile from his pocket, not even checking who it was. As soon as the object was placed to to his ear, a low chuckling could be heard from the other end.
“You’re there, right Tora?” an amused tone laced the familiar voice. Tora wished that he could rip apart it’s owner. He knew now that this was just a game to the other man. Though, it was impossible to carry out his wishes. So, he resigned to playing them out in his head as the other man continued to speak. “The fool in front of you, is he doing something inappropriate?” The tall man was so entranced in his mental torturing he nearly missed the question. His sharp hazel eyes roamed over the scene in front of him. Somewhere during the phone call the whore had apparently finished her previous task, and was now being rewarded with a thick white line of powder. The slimy man just sat behind her, petting her greasy hair as he eyed her. Clearly he had more in mind for using her.
“Is there something in particular you were referring to?” Tora had to ask, since he could see a few of the basic rules being broken.
“So he is then,” a dramatic light sigh from the other end. “How wasteful,” the voice had a mocked sadness to it, and he could imagine how his boss was pouting over his devious smirk. “You’ll take care of it for me, won’t you Tora?” The question was playful sounding, but Tora knew what the man wanted.
“How do you expect me to do it?” maybe he could talk his boss out of it. He didn’t want to go threw with this, as much as the slime ball in front of him made his stomach turn.
“How? Silly Tora. You still carry that precious thing don’t you, in the left side of your jacket?” Shit. Even if it had been almost a year, Tora still carried around his gun. He supposed it was just old habits dying hard. And he couldn’t lie about it, his boss knew him too well for that. “I won’t ask for a souvenir this time, I know it wouldn’t be pleasant to obtain. A picture will suffice,” his boss spoke his orders like it was any normal conversation. “When you finish, come to Omega. Oh, and Tora, make sure you dress nice. I know how you prefer to look like trash,” a sudden buzzing sound. Just like him to hang up without letting the raven haired man get any word in. Not like his objections would matter much. A long sigh left Tora’s lips as he flipped his phone closed. It looked like he didn’t have a choice anymore, but to go back to work.
“Came to the wrong place, huh?” the tiger’s fierce eyes shifted up in front of him. Tora could only grit his teeth. He knew he would enjoy this more than he should. “Tch, must be new to make mistakes like that. How pathetic, you’ll be canned for sure,” the grease ball of a man laughed.
“Not quite,” the raven haired man pulled a sleek black gun from the inside of his jacket, aiming it directly at the face of the man opposite him. Chubby froze in his seat, trying to laugh at the sudden change, but it came out more nervous.
“W-What the fuck are you doing?” he began to squirm, the fear evident in his features. The woman next to him whimpered slightly as she backed away to the other side of the couch. Tora could feel his finger begin to itch on the trigger.
“My job,” his answer was hesitated, but didn’t falter when it left his lips.