FRIEND (PART 2)
PART 1
"I'm sorry," Pryce said as he sat next to Chance (but not too close) on the edge of the bed. "My family's... kind of nuts."
"Don't worry about it, man," Chance replied. "Compared to my dad, these people are awesome."
Pryce didn't want to pry. But it seemed it was easier for Chance to speak about his father now that they were no longer standing in front of that house, listening to him bang dirty dishes around in the sink, looking for his whiskey. And Pryce was so much more concerned than he pretended to be.
"It's just you and him?" Pryce asked. And he tried extra hard to keep his voice from breaking in discomfort.
"Yep," Chance began. "Since I was little. After my mom died, he just kinda..... I remember the last time we celebrated my birthday. I think I was eight."
"Jesus."
"He announced in front of all my friends and their parents that this was the last birthday party the Leery Men were ever going to have. Because real men don't expect gifts or special treatment just for being born. That was for women. And there weren't any women living in that house anymore, so I guess he figured 'Hey, why bother?'"
"That's terrible."
"Yeah, well. It made me realize sumthin. I wasn't ever going to have anything in life unless I worked hard for it. My dad was barely a dad. My mom wasn't around to even do that much. So I had to pretty much do everything myself. I guess that's part of the reason I joined the Rider Program. I got the local car shop to sponsor my admission, and enrolled the first day they were accepting applications."
Pryce sat there, staring in amazement. He had never seen Chance look so serious. Whatever Pryce was going through in the bubble wrapped around him by his parents' money, it was nothing compared to what Chance had been forced to deal with. For him to still be sitting there, having achieved so much, and still able to laugh and joke his way through it all, was inspiring. Something Pryce never thought he'd be able to do if their positions were reversed. But even through Chance's strong outward appearance, there would be the tiniest hint of a more vulnerable side, buried under that sarcastic exterior.
Pryce wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and make him forget all of his troubles. But he knew that Chance would never allow it. Chance would hate him for feeling sorry for him. And who could know what Chance would think if he knew the rest of what Pryce was feeling? Even Pryce himself was not certain about how he felt.
"So your sister," Chance said, abruptly. "Is she like that with everybody?"
Pryce was happy to be off the subject of Chance's home life, but clearly embarassed at the subject of his elder sister.
"Unfortunately, yes."
Chance laughed. "Man, she is a riot. She should have her own TV show."
Chance's laugh was infectious enough to force a chuckle out of his friend.
"I know, she comes on way too strong. But somehow, a lot of the guys she meets seem to fall for it."
"Well, I guess I'm not like a lot of guys. She's not quite my type."
An uncomfortable pause. Pryce cursed himself for thinking it, but there was no escaping the spell of curiosity that had suddenly fallen over him. He had to ask. There was nothing wrong with asking. They were friends, after all, and there was nothing strange about posing such a question to a friend.
"So what is your type anyway?"
For some reason, Chance seemed to think that question was hilarious. As though he could see through all of Pryce's bullshit and just could not contain his glee at the sight of him squirming in his seat next to him. Pryce could not look directly at Chance when he turned to face him with a face that must have wanted to ask "Are you seriously asking me that?" As if he shouldn't need to ask at all.
"I kinda thought you knew," Chance said.
Pryce still couldn't look at him. He just kept fidgeting with his hands, glancing over at his own painting, the forest paradise leaning sideways against the wall, half-covered in the shadow of the dresser next to it. It was obvious to both of them that Pryce was feeling much more than he was saying, and Chance was expecting Pryce to pick up on the signals that he seemed to think were obvious.
But as he sat there on the edge of the guest room bed with his best friend, his sparring partner, and potential comrade in battle, with the door to the room wide open, Pryce simply did not understand how Chance could have expected anything from him. He had no idea what Chance was suggesting he should have already known. In that moment, when his fingers felt as though they might shake themselves to pieces on his lap, he was afraid to assume anything at all. For all he knew, Chance was two seconds away from punching him in the face after finally realizing that Pryce wasn't entirely heterosexual and wanting to kill him for it.
Pryce suddenly felt like a complete freak for inviting his friend into his home to stay the night. Completely ignoring the fact that Chance was in trouble, and that he had nowhere else to go, and that this truly was the best place for him to stay the night. Somehow, Pryce coud only focus on the emotions that made up ten percent of why he had asked Chance to come with him that night. The part of him that he tried to suppress, but was doing such a horrible job at. The part that desperately wanted to be with Chance, in a way that he could never expect his friend to accept.
And that's when Chance kissed him.
Pryce held his breath as the firm, but gentle lips of his friend pressed against his own. A shock-wave of emotion blasted through him as Chance finally released him from the kiss, the both of them stunned at what had just happened. Pryce didn't even realize he had closed his eyes until it was time to open them again. The first thing he saw was the curiously frightened look in Chance's eyes as he pulled back slightly. How could Pryce not have seen how nervous Chance had been all this time. As though he was feeling some of the same mixed emotions as he had been just moments before Chance had mustered up the courage to kiss him. At long last, when Pryce finally realized Chance wasn't about to flip out and break his jaw, he exhaled.
Chance's next smile was nervous, but stil far more confident than Pryce could be in his position. "Questions? Comments?"
Chance's immediate humor was enough to give Pryce the courage to answer Chance's query with a second kiss. This time it was Chance's turn to be taken off guard. And the squeel of surprise almost made Pryce laugh right into his mouth as they kissed. Pryce's hand ventured over to graze his friend's cheek as their lips met. He could feel Chance begin to breathe more heavily as they continued, and the feeling of his own erection tightening behind his jeans seemed to creep up on him in the midst of it. In his uncertainty, Pryce finally broke away from the kiss, just barely able to keep himself apart from him.
Chance must have noticed Pryce glancing over at the open door leading to the hallway, where any random maid or family member could have walked by and seen what they had been doing. It was bad enough that Pryce's father did not want the boy in the house at all, let alone that he was kissing him in the guest bedroom, like what he would have referred to as "a godless pervert." Chance immediately stood up and walked over to close the door. And the moment he removed himself from the bed, Pryce fell out of the daze that he didn't know he had been in, created by the warm aura pulsating from Chance as he sat there next to him. He honestly had no idea how strong his need for him was until that very moment.
When the door was locked, Pryce was certain that he had the dopiest look on his face to match how clueless he felt about what might be happening. And of course, Chance found this absolutely hysterical. He unzipped his jacket and tossed it onto the dresser, never breaking his gaze as he inched his way closer.
Pryce found himself gliding backward, as though lifted weightlessly on a current of air, gently pushed back by Chance's kiss. And in a flash, he was back in a daze. That all-consuming Chance-daze that seemed to course through his veins like an electric current. The faint hint of Chance's cologne lingered about them as his body pressed up against him on the bed, one leg locked firmly between Pryce's thighs. The friction grew more intense and Pryce's lips parted with astonishment at how amazing it felt. Which Chance took as an invitation for his tongue.
Before Pryce could even breath, he felt Chance's tongue slick against his own, deepening the kiss. And as their mouths hooked together, hungrily tasting each other, Pryce could feel Chance grinding against his crotch, massaging the erection in his pants with his own. Pryce let out the quietest breath as the pressure grew more intense, the thick bulge of Chance's cock thrusting hard against him. And the sounds Pryce made as he lay there beneath him, gripping the blankets in pleasure- it only intensified Chance's desire for more.
Just when Pryce felt as though he might suffocate from the thickness of the air between them, Chance lifted himself up and yanked his shirt off. And though he tried not to show how out of his mind with lust he was, Pryce could see it in his eyes as he waited impatiently for him to remove his own shirt to reveal the soft skin beneath.
But Pryce did not stop with the shirt. His fingers dashed along his friend's waist, anxiously ripping his belt straps right through the loops of his jeans before unfastening his pants. The moment the front of Chance's pants was parted, his dick came flopping out from the opening. Hard and thick, and so amazingly white, which Pryce was not expecting, but it somehow made him want it in his mouth twice as much.
Chance gasped as he felt Pryce's tongue on his cock, slicking and lathering along the shaft, then forcing the length of it down the warmness of his throat like it was meant to be nowhere else. Pryce shut his eyes, savoring the flavor of his throbbing flesh against his tongue.
"Oh my fucking gawd," Chance stammered, instinctively sucking in his stomach at the sudden licks that sent a shiver of pleasure through his body. And Pryce laughed through it all as he continued to suck the daylights out of him. At least until Chance brought a quick hand to his chin to gently lift up his head. Pryce could tell by the breathless look on his face that Chance was far too close to a climax, and he simply wasn't ready to give it up so soon.
Pryce's sweat-soaked back slammed against the wall as he leaned against the headboard, standing up on the bed, his jeans hanging loosely around his thighs. The first thrust of Chance's mouth was almost enough to finish him off right there. He had been nursing his erection for the better part of fifteen minutes and he was utterly powerless to stop what was coming if Chance continued with such a voracious appetite.
Chance stroked the shaft of Pryce's cock as he sucked the head of it, his wet tongue slipping up and down the slit. He was certain that the tiny drops of precum that seeped out would cause him to stop, but it only made him want more. Before he knew it, Chance had spun him around and buried his face into the entrance of Pryce's ass.
Pryce had to fight the urge to cry out as he felt the wamrth of his friend's tongue penetrating his hole, barely able to contain the intensity of the sensation. Never before had Pryce done anything like this. He was not sure if Chance had either, but the way he worked his tongue around the ring of his ass, it sure as hell felt like it. Chance was reaching between Pryce's legs and stroking his dick as he tongue-fucked him. And just as he thought his ass couldn't get any wetter, that's when he heard the crippling sound of Chance's voice.
"Can I..." It was such a tender, needy whisper. Pryce almost didn't recognize it. But he knew that it was only because Chance was afraid he would say no, or think he was a freak, or whatever other nonsense that the both of them had constantly been feeling for the past several months.
"Do it," Pryce said, though even he was afraid of what was about to happen. "Fuck me."
And the initial sting of it almost made him wish he hadn't invited Chance inside of him. But suddenly, he felt the glistening arm of Chance glide across his chest from behind, pulling him back against him as he stood on all fours, and Chance's kiss was powerful enough to wash away whatever pain he might have felt in that first moment.
And then, like an avalanche had fallen over him, Pryce could feel him. Twisted so beautifully on the bed, Pryce felt the slick of his tongue against his lips and the thrust of his cock deep inside his hole, and he could no longer keep from hollering. Chance was pushing harder and faster now, and Pryce was gripping two massive hands full of the blanket beneath him as if he would fly right off the bed if he didn't hold on. And he could hear it in Chance's voice as he moaned. There was no stopping him now. Chance was so close. His cock was slamming against Pryce's prostate, blasting him with wave after wave of pleasure, literally fucking the cum right out of him.
Pryce lost all inhibitions in the last five seconds of his orgasm, releasing an animalistic cry as a stream of white burst forth from his erection at the exact moment Chance had shoved his cock into him from behind. The milky fluid soared right past his own cheek and struck the pillow before him.
"Fuck!" Chance breathed, humping away until he simply could not stand it anymore. The moment his cock was in his own hand again, it released a shower of white across Pryce's back. Pryce shivered and panted, amazed by how much he enjoyed the feel of it, despite every law of common decency that would tell him not to. He had made it happen. Forced it out of Chance because they both wanted, and needed it to happen. And he was bathed in the evidence of their encounter.
It felt good. Better than Pryce had imagined it would. And Pryce had a very vivid imagination to begin with. Or so he thought.
The two of them took their time getting cleaned up. Chance couldn't help but splash water into his friend's face as they showered together. Pryce, of course, got shampoo in his eyes and Chance simply laughed as he helped him wash it out. Pryce's head hit a fresh pillow half an hour later, his arm wrapped possessively around Chance's body as it nestled closely into him, pulling the thick blanket over them.
Pryce closed his eyes as he basked in the warm, loving embrace of his friend. He never would have expected the night to end this way, with Chance sleeping soundly under his arm, so comfortable and safe, without a hint of reservation in his rhythmic breathing as he drifted off into a dream. Pryce felt as though he could set up shop in that moment and live there until the world crumbled around him and all that remained was him, and Chance, and this place where they slept peacefully together.
But that's not what happened.
For the next several months, the two of them remained fully committed to the goal of becoming Kamen Riders. They fought hard against every opponent, threw themselves into every excercise, overcoming whatever obstacles that stood before them. Soon, there were only a few potential candidates for the final two Advent Decks left to be given a master. The Strike Deck and the Torque Deck.
The day that the last two Riders would be announced was also coincidentally November 17th. For the last month, the Treadwells had grown accustomed to the frequent visits of Pryce's "friend." Long weekends and sometimes entire weeks would be spent there. It had reached a point where he was almost recognized as a part of the family. Or at least a distant cousin that Pryce's parents would have liked to see a lot less of than they did. But Pryce would not allow them to keep him away. Even as rumors about their private relationship began to surface, he merely pushed them aside, attending to more important things. Particularly on a day as important as the 17th.
Chance paused as he stepped into the darkened guest room, surprised to find that there was a cake on the dresser, covered in green and gold frosting, with glowing candles. Out of the flickering shadows that danced about the room, Pryce emerged with a warm smile.
"Happy Birthday."
Pryce expected a smirk of amusement, but what he received instead was a stunned, almost teary-eyed look. The last time anyone had cared enough to celebrate Chance's birthday was when he was eight years old. Chance likely wasn't even aware that Pryce had remembered his birthdate after telling him randomly in some long-forgotten conversation weeks earlier.
"I..." It was all Chance could say. His lips were upon him in three seconds flat.
Nearly a year had passed since the day Pryce had met his best friend. Two birthdays, an unusually awkward Christmas at the Treadwell estate, and a couple of weekend trips later, the two of them found themselves standing in the great hall side by side, in front of an audience of all the previously-selected Kamen Riders. Pryce and Chance stood in a line with three other potentials. And every single person was strong, dedicated, intelligent, and absolutely lethal in battle. Any one of them could have been chosen to take up an Advent Deck.
"Chance Leery, step forward."
He was the second man whose name had been called. The first man was already halfway out the door, fighting back tears brought on by his rejection, after an entire year of tireless effort. Pryce's heart began to pound in his chest as he suddenly realized the man he loved might be headed for the same fate. As much faith as he had in Chance's abilities, he knew that every person in that line was almost as powerful, and there was no way of knowing if Master Eubulon would see in Chance what Pryce had seen all this time. That he was the only one among them truly worthy of that first Deck.
"Congratulations."
Chance blinked for a moment as though he could not believe what he was hearing. Eubulon spoke words like "honor" and "duty" and "excellence" as he thrusted the Torque Deck into his hands and a flash of energy coursed through him. Pryce stood in awe of him, so proud that he wanted to rush into his arms to kiss him and tell him how much he deserved it. But just as quickly as the moment had begun, he heard Eubulon's voice yet again.
"Pryce Treadwell."
Pryce stepped forward, and the grin he caught from Chance's face was too infectious to fight off. Even if it looked ridiculous for him to smile away as he looked up at Master Eubulon, he didn't care. He was riding through an amazing high and refused to push the feeling aside. He had worked too long and hard not to enjoy it.
"I'm sorry."
Pryce's smile dropped. Eubulon's next few sentences did not include words like "honor" or "duty" or "excellence." Except perhaps to advise Pryce to keep striving for those ideas. Pryce was certain that the Master was trying to sound encouraging, particularly since he had made it so far, but Pryce could barely hear him over the sound of his own inner voice screaming in his mind. He had failed. A year of his life devoted entirely to this one goal. This only goal. This one final chance to escape the relentless grip of his parents and that meaningless lifestyle that tore at him from the inside.
Pryce politely thanked Eubulon for the opportunity, who shook his trembling hand and moved on to the next potential. And thank goodness, because Pryce felt as though he might break down right then and there. He quickly turned in order to leave the line, catching Chance's gaze as he walked.
The look on Chance's face defied description. It was as though someone had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out, right when he was at his happiest. His eyes suggested that he would have given anything to be able to rush over and stop him, to try to console him. But they both knew that it would be impossible.
Regardless of what the others might think of Chance suddenly running out in the middle of the selection ceremony, there was nothing that could have consoled Pryce in that moment. In the coming months, Ventara's battle with Xaviax was going to intensify in ways that Pryce could hardly imagine. Not only was Pryce going to be denied the honor of fighting alongside the other Riders to defend his people, but he would be denied the company of his friend, who most certainly would not have time to be with him while fighting on the front lines of what was soon becoming a full-scale war.
It was a short time later that Pryce was riding in his limo, watching the morning news, that he saw the broadcast. Blurred images of a warrior in green armor battling strange creatures. The hero fought valiantly, fending off a horde of monsters as a young girl and her father ran to safety. The newscasters praised the hero, sending out a prayer for his safe journey across the world to fight another day. Pryce sighed with a half-smile. At the very least, he could be proud of his friend for achieving his dream. He had escaped the awful life he was born into, and made something wonderful out of himself.
This was the day Pryce made the decision to join the war effort. Even if he was not a Kamen Rider, he could not let Chance and the others fight alone. He enlisted that afternoon with the Ventaran Global Intelligence Circuit.
The next two months were the most frightening time of Pryce's life. One day, he would find himself hiding in the basement of some abandoned warehouse on the opposite end of the planet, unscrambling covert messages between two enemy camps. The next day he found himself hurling his fist into the jaw of the creature that leaped out of a mirror to destroy him and his unit.
Without the protective skin of a Kamen Rider, Pryce was vulnerable in battle. And though his body would eventually become racked with injuries, he would never allow his enemies to deliver a serious blow. But whenever his knees would buckle, and he felt he could not stand from the pain inflicted upon him, his thoughts would drift back to the time when he and Chance first met that morning on the training mat, and he would force himself to keep going.
A monster came crashing out of the twelfth-story window of his hotel room, thrown out by Pryce's deadly kick, exploding into the ground as it fell. His kick was fueled by the memory of Chance. And against such power, there was no defense.
Suddenly, Pryce's phone began to vibrate in the pocket of his ripped dress shirt. Pryce's jaw dropped when he heard the voice that spoke his name through the speaker. It was the first time he had called him in six weeks. Which might as well have been six years after all that he had been through.
"What up!"
Pryce would have liked to imagine that Chance was only calling him because they were friends. Because he missed his voice. Their long conversations, which could have lasted for hours, on some crazy topic that anyone else would have found ridiculous. And though Pryce could feel a bit of sorrow lingering in his voice for having been apart from him for so long, he knew Chance would probably only be calling for something important.
It took seventy-two hours for Pryce to return to the country after hearing the news. The man who had first been selected to become Kamen Rider Strike was dead. An arrow to his throat while he was out at a bar, partying carelessly without the Strike Deck in his pocket like it should have been. As sorry as Pryce was to hear the news, he couldn't help but feel as though he would not have been defeated simply because he was without his Advent Deck. Because that was what he had been doing for the past two months. He would hear rumors later on that this incident was what prompted the "failsafe program" Master Eubulon embedded into the Advent Decks to ensure that no Rider would lose their life as long as they had their Deck with them. Or so he hoped...
Chance looked different somehow. Not much had changed about his physical appearance, but something in his eyes had shifted since the last time Pryce had looked into them. The escalating war had affected him somehow, but Pryce was not perceptive enough to understand whether it was for the better, or for the worse. And he was equally confused by the awkwardness of Chance's touch when they gave each other a friendly hug outside Eubulon's base.
"Hey." Chance still had a way of communicating a mix of deep emotions through the smallest collection of syllables possible. In Chance-speak, that meant that he was happy to see him after all this time, and glad that he was safe.
"Hey," Pryce replied, almost mimicking his old friend. Because there was something in Chance's tone that told him that things were not the same between them. Even if they both wanted back what they used to have. The severity of their situation was too grave to let it happen.
And then there was Diane.
Pryce would eventually learn that Diane was one of the soldiers assigned to assist the Kamen Riders on reconnaissance missions in the northern sector of the country. It was clear by the way Chance spoke of her that their relationship was not always strictly professional. And a part of Pryce wanted to be angry at him for it. But the truth was that Mr. Treadwell had introduced him to a young woman shortly after the war broke out. She was a snob, of course, but she at least cared enough about the world around her to donate to the war effort with a share from each of her enormous paychecks. Pryce had found that he did not object to her company on the few occassions they dated before he left for Global Intelligence.
Little of this mattered now. Because Chance and Pryce were back together. And though their relationship had gone from friendship, to love, then back to friendship, one thing remained constant. A deep desire to be by each other's side.
And as the last remaining news services continued to report casualties of the growing war, and missing persons reports were filed across the world, Kamen Rider Torque and Kamen Rider Strike continued their tireless battle with the enemy, along with the rest of Eubulon's forces.
And Pryce could often feel the wildly inappropriate smile hiding behind Torque's mask as they were both caught inches away from potential death, but somehow Chance knew that they would both make it out of the battle alive. With the help of Torque's Final Vent attack, they did. And it was Chance who held him tightly as Pryce finally, for the first time, cried into his shoulder when he heard the news that his family had been teleported away, lost on some desolate alien planet ruled by Xaviax, along with nearly everyone else in his home city.
Huddled in the dark of some old, half-destroyed apartment, the two sat together on the dusty floor. Chance had not kissed him since that day at the training hall, before he became Kamen Rider Torque. But as he looked into the tear-soaked eyes of his friend, he could not bear to keep their lips apart.
Chance could never hope to wash away the kind of sorrow his friend felt. But he could lessen his pain. Pryce fought back another well of tears as Chance took him into his mouth right there on the floor. His tongue dashed across the surface of his stiffening cock in ways Pryce never knew it could. And all the while, Chance's gentle fingers never left the back of Pryce's neck, softly massaging away whatever pressures that had built up there after so long, waiting for a release that might never come.
Pryce breathed heavily. He knew that this would not mean that they were together, like it did the first time they were like this. But he did not care. Whether this was the last time, or there were a hundred more times left to come, he was going to savor the touch of Chance's skin against his own. The smell of him that enveloped the hot air between them. The passionate way he applied just the right amount of pressure to every part of him that needed it, even though Chance probably wanted even more.
Pryce found himself on his knees as Chance tugged his own pants off, his legs parting around him, waiting for Pryce to enter him.
"Take me," Chance said. And he did.
Pryce's face was so close to Chance's that he could feel every trembling breath on his skin as it escaped the other man's lips, forced out of him by the steady rhythm of Pryce's cock pushing deeper into his hole. Pryce moved faster as the intensity grew stronger, and Chance's fingers returned to the back of his neck, driving him absolutely insane. Pryce's lips were so wet now. Chance would not allow him to break away from the kiss, even as he fucked him so aggressively that he feared he may yank himself right out of him by accident.
Chance was determined to make him feel it. Not just that he was leaning over a man he physically desired. But that the man he leaned over was someone that cared deeply for him. No matter what would happen in the future between them, he refused to let Pryce go without transmitting that one emotion through his touch. Even if they never touched again. Never heard each other's heartbeat, or told each other dumb jokes that no one in the world would laugh at but the two of them. Even if their lives were entangled with other people through friendship, or love, or marriage. Even if they never saw each other for the rest of their lives. This connection was forever.
"Chance... Chance!"
Pryce cried out as a blinding orgasm ripped through his body, and the sound of it forced Chance to follow him right after, the cum bursting onto his chest as they moaned into each other's tongue-tangled mouths...
By the time Pryce and Chance returned to Eubulon's base, the news had already hit. Fifty percent of the planet was now gone. Even if the rumors were true about Xaviax and his elite generals all having been destroyed, Ventara had been hollowed out by whatever remained of his underlings.
Pryce glanced over at Chance with a grim, hardened look, and he returned his glance with the same expression. They both had lost their parents. Whatever friends or family they might have had before the Rider Program. And however long it was going to take, they knew that the battle was far from over.
==========
Pryce tightened his grip on the cold metal of the railing as he stood upon the rooftop, staring endlessly into the vastness of the empty city that stretched out before him. A streak of white cut across the sky and the roar of thunder could be heard from a distance as an army of restless clouds reached out across the black Ventaran sky. After all that had happened, the city was nearly emptied. Xaviax's forces had already succeeded in stealing away eighty percent of the planet's population, and those that remained had spent the next three years on the run from the creatures that sought to abduct them.
Pryce's teeth grinded behind his lips. The city where he was born and raised had been turned into a ghost town overnight. Pryce felt as though he could have ripped the railing right out of the bolts that held it down with the strength brought on by his frustration. And that's when he heard it. The noise that sent a shiver down his spine. The ominous tingle that alerted him to the presence of danger. One of Xaviax's assassins had appeared just behind him.
As he stood there waiting, the first hint of rain began chattering against the leather of his jacket. A slight hiss lingered in the air as the creature reached out for him. The images of the past flashed through Pryce's mind as his hands lifted from the metal railing and curled into fists.
The monster shrieked in surprise as a menacing punch came rocketing into its face, launching it several feet back through the falling rain. Out of Pryce's jacket came the glimmering Strike Deck.
"Kamen Rider!" he shouted. And in an explosion of energy, Pryce's body was bathed in light, clothed in the violet armor of Kamen Rider Strike.
Strike lifted his cobra staff through the screen of falling rain, pointing directly at the creature as it stood up to face him, its red eyes glowing in the darkness with venomous hatred. Suddenly, a ball of flame burst forth from its jaws, slamming into the Rider with such strength that he was thrown off his feet, the staff slipping from his fingers into the night air.
Before Pryce knew what was happening, the creature was upon him. Its claws ripped into his suit, sending a stream of hot sparks ejecting from the surface of his armor. Strike tried to wrestle himself free, but the creature was too strong. Pryce's eyes widened behind his helmet as he watched his enemy's jaw begin to open, a smoldering ball of flame about to be shoot from his glowing throat into Pryce's face.
But suddenly, Pryce could hear it. The sound of footsteps. And then gunfire.
Sparks were scattered from the monster's face as a pair of glowing bullets came shrieking out of the shadows, landing between its eyes. Strike took the opportunity to kick the creature off of him and roll up to his feet.
The monster looked up in shock as Strike stood there, locked in a fighting stance, as Kamen Rider Torque stepped into view right next to his comrade. The muzzle of his gun was smoking with the evidence of his last shot, as raindrops bounced off of his green armor.
"You freaks never learn, do you?"
With that, Torque activated his Shoot Vent, summong a massive cannon into the metallic grip of his hands. And as the creature foolishly rushed forward to stop him, Torque pulled the trigger. The ensuing explosion spilled out across the entire rooftop, showering the two Riders with flame and smoke, which was quickly dispersed by descending rainfall.
When the dust finally cleared, Chance and Pryce stood alone together, each gripping tightly to the Advent Decks in their hands. It had been so long since they first received these things. And there seemed to be so much left to do.
"That's why I'm here," Chance continued. "Eubulon finally made up his mind. We're going ahead with the plan."
Pryce stood there in the rain for a long time upon hearing those words, allowing his face and hair to be soaked by the chilling water.
It was time. Eleven Kamen Riders would be placed in suspended animation, while the twelfth Rider remained awake to fight whatever was left of Xaviax's minions on Ventara. It was a plan that not all the Riders seemed to agree with. But after all that had happened to their world, there was not much choice. There was only the faint hope that each of them would be awakened into a world completely free of war. Where they would be free to live, and to love, however they wanted.
"I'm here to bring you back with me," Chance said. "He wants us to begin right away."
"Well, I guess that's that." Chance could barely hear him over the screaming rain. And Pryce did not have the will to speak any louder.
Pryce suddenly realized that Chance had begun moving in closer, as if to kiss him.
"You sure you wanna do that?" Pryce asked. He tried not to make it sound hurtful. His words came from a place of concern. For both of them. Especially given what they were about to give themselves over to.
Pryce had never truly seen Chance cry. And as the raindrops covered his face, Pryce wasn't sure if that's what he was seeing in this moment.
"I'm sure," he said, already diving into him.
Pryce kissed his old friend, his comrade in battle, the love of his life, and walked off into the night.
"I'm sorry," Pryce said as he sat next to Chance (but not too close) on the edge of the bed. "My family's... kind of nuts."
"Don't worry about it, man," Chance replied. "Compared to my dad, these people are awesome."
Pryce didn't want to pry. But it seemed it was easier for Chance to speak about his father now that they were no longer standing in front of that house, listening to him bang dirty dishes around in the sink, looking for his whiskey. And Pryce was so much more concerned than he pretended to be.
"It's just you and him?" Pryce asked. And he tried extra hard to keep his voice from breaking in discomfort.
"Yep," Chance began. "Since I was little. After my mom died, he just kinda..... I remember the last time we celebrated my birthday. I think I was eight."
"Jesus."
"He announced in front of all my friends and their parents that this was the last birthday party the Leery Men were ever going to have. Because real men don't expect gifts or special treatment just for being born. That was for women. And there weren't any women living in that house anymore, so I guess he figured 'Hey, why bother?'"
"That's terrible."
"Yeah, well. It made me realize sumthin. I wasn't ever going to have anything in life unless I worked hard for it. My dad was barely a dad. My mom wasn't around to even do that much. So I had to pretty much do everything myself. I guess that's part of the reason I joined the Rider Program. I got the local car shop to sponsor my admission, and enrolled the first day they were accepting applications."
Pryce sat there, staring in amazement. He had never seen Chance look so serious. Whatever Pryce was going through in the bubble wrapped around him by his parents' money, it was nothing compared to what Chance had been forced to deal with. For him to still be sitting there, having achieved so much, and still able to laugh and joke his way through it all, was inspiring. Something Pryce never thought he'd be able to do if their positions were reversed. But even through Chance's strong outward appearance, there would be the tiniest hint of a more vulnerable side, buried under that sarcastic exterior.
Pryce wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and make him forget all of his troubles. But he knew that Chance would never allow it. Chance would hate him for feeling sorry for him. And who could know what Chance would think if he knew the rest of what Pryce was feeling? Even Pryce himself was not certain about how he felt.
"So your sister," Chance said, abruptly. "Is she like that with everybody?"
Pryce was happy to be off the subject of Chance's home life, but clearly embarassed at the subject of his elder sister.
"Unfortunately, yes."
Chance laughed. "Man, she is a riot. She should have her own TV show."
Chance's laugh was infectious enough to force a chuckle out of his friend.
"I know, she comes on way too strong. But somehow, a lot of the guys she meets seem to fall for it."
"Well, I guess I'm not like a lot of guys. She's not quite my type."
An uncomfortable pause. Pryce cursed himself for thinking it, but there was no escaping the spell of curiosity that had suddenly fallen over him. He had to ask. There was nothing wrong with asking. They were friends, after all, and there was nothing strange about posing such a question to a friend.
"So what is your type anyway?"
For some reason, Chance seemed to think that question was hilarious. As though he could see through all of Pryce's bullshit and just could not contain his glee at the sight of him squirming in his seat next to him. Pryce could not look directly at Chance when he turned to face him with a face that must have wanted to ask "Are you seriously asking me that?" As if he shouldn't need to ask at all.
"I kinda thought you knew," Chance said.
Pryce still couldn't look at him. He just kept fidgeting with his hands, glancing over at his own painting, the forest paradise leaning sideways against the wall, half-covered in the shadow of the dresser next to it. It was obvious to both of them that Pryce was feeling much more than he was saying, and Chance was expecting Pryce to pick up on the signals that he seemed to think were obvious.
But as he sat there on the edge of the guest room bed with his best friend, his sparring partner, and potential comrade in battle, with the door to the room wide open, Pryce simply did not understand how Chance could have expected anything from him. He had no idea what Chance was suggesting he should have already known. In that moment, when his fingers felt as though they might shake themselves to pieces on his lap, he was afraid to assume anything at all. For all he knew, Chance was two seconds away from punching him in the face after finally realizing that Pryce wasn't entirely heterosexual and wanting to kill him for it.
Pryce suddenly felt like a complete freak for inviting his friend into his home to stay the night. Completely ignoring the fact that Chance was in trouble, and that he had nowhere else to go, and that this truly was the best place for him to stay the night. Somehow, Pryce coud only focus on the emotions that made up ten percent of why he had asked Chance to come with him that night. The part of him that he tried to suppress, but was doing such a horrible job at. The part that desperately wanted to be with Chance, in a way that he could never expect his friend to accept.
And that's when Chance kissed him.
Pryce held his breath as the firm, but gentle lips of his friend pressed against his own. A shock-wave of emotion blasted through him as Chance finally released him from the kiss, the both of them stunned at what had just happened. Pryce didn't even realize he had closed his eyes until it was time to open them again. The first thing he saw was the curiously frightened look in Chance's eyes as he pulled back slightly. How could Pryce not have seen how nervous Chance had been all this time. As though he was feeling some of the same mixed emotions as he had been just moments before Chance had mustered up the courage to kiss him. At long last, when Pryce finally realized Chance wasn't about to flip out and break his jaw, he exhaled.
Chance's next smile was nervous, but stil far more confident than Pryce could be in his position. "Questions? Comments?"
Chance's immediate humor was enough to give Pryce the courage to answer Chance's query with a second kiss. This time it was Chance's turn to be taken off guard. And the squeel of surprise almost made Pryce laugh right into his mouth as they kissed. Pryce's hand ventured over to graze his friend's cheek as their lips met. He could feel Chance begin to breathe more heavily as they continued, and the feeling of his own erection tightening behind his jeans seemed to creep up on him in the midst of it. In his uncertainty, Pryce finally broke away from the kiss, just barely able to keep himself apart from him.
Chance must have noticed Pryce glancing over at the open door leading to the hallway, where any random maid or family member could have walked by and seen what they had been doing. It was bad enough that Pryce's father did not want the boy in the house at all, let alone that he was kissing him in the guest bedroom, like what he would have referred to as "a godless pervert." Chance immediately stood up and walked over to close the door. And the moment he removed himself from the bed, Pryce fell out of the daze that he didn't know he had been in, created by the warm aura pulsating from Chance as he sat there next to him. He honestly had no idea how strong his need for him was until that very moment.
When the door was locked, Pryce was certain that he had the dopiest look on his face to match how clueless he felt about what might be happening. And of course, Chance found this absolutely hysterical. He unzipped his jacket and tossed it onto the dresser, never breaking his gaze as he inched his way closer.
Pryce found himself gliding backward, as though lifted weightlessly on a current of air, gently pushed back by Chance's kiss. And in a flash, he was back in a daze. That all-consuming Chance-daze that seemed to course through his veins like an electric current. The faint hint of Chance's cologne lingered about them as his body pressed up against him on the bed, one leg locked firmly between Pryce's thighs. The friction grew more intense and Pryce's lips parted with astonishment at how amazing it felt. Which Chance took as an invitation for his tongue.
Before Pryce could even breath, he felt Chance's tongue slick against his own, deepening the kiss. And as their mouths hooked together, hungrily tasting each other, Pryce could feel Chance grinding against his crotch, massaging the erection in his pants with his own. Pryce let out the quietest breath as the pressure grew more intense, the thick bulge of Chance's cock thrusting hard against him. And the sounds Pryce made as he lay there beneath him, gripping the blankets in pleasure- it only intensified Chance's desire for more.
Just when Pryce felt as though he might suffocate from the thickness of the air between them, Chance lifted himself up and yanked his shirt off. And though he tried not to show how out of his mind with lust he was, Pryce could see it in his eyes as he waited impatiently for him to remove his own shirt to reveal the soft skin beneath.
But Pryce did not stop with the shirt. His fingers dashed along his friend's waist, anxiously ripping his belt straps right through the loops of his jeans before unfastening his pants. The moment the front of Chance's pants was parted, his dick came flopping out from the opening. Hard and thick, and so amazingly white, which Pryce was not expecting, but it somehow made him want it in his mouth twice as much.
Chance gasped as he felt Pryce's tongue on his cock, slicking and lathering along the shaft, then forcing the length of it down the warmness of his throat like it was meant to be nowhere else. Pryce shut his eyes, savoring the flavor of his throbbing flesh against his tongue.
"Oh my fucking gawd," Chance stammered, instinctively sucking in his stomach at the sudden licks that sent a shiver of pleasure through his body. And Pryce laughed through it all as he continued to suck the daylights out of him. At least until Chance brought a quick hand to his chin to gently lift up his head. Pryce could tell by the breathless look on his face that Chance was far too close to a climax, and he simply wasn't ready to give it up so soon.
Pryce's sweat-soaked back slammed against the wall as he leaned against the headboard, standing up on the bed, his jeans hanging loosely around his thighs. The first thrust of Chance's mouth was almost enough to finish him off right there. He had been nursing his erection for the better part of fifteen minutes and he was utterly powerless to stop what was coming if Chance continued with such a voracious appetite.
Chance stroked the shaft of Pryce's cock as he sucked the head of it, his wet tongue slipping up and down the slit. He was certain that the tiny drops of precum that seeped out would cause him to stop, but it only made him want more. Before he knew it, Chance had spun him around and buried his face into the entrance of Pryce's ass.
Pryce had to fight the urge to cry out as he felt the wamrth of his friend's tongue penetrating his hole, barely able to contain the intensity of the sensation. Never before had Pryce done anything like this. He was not sure if Chance had either, but the way he worked his tongue around the ring of his ass, it sure as hell felt like it. Chance was reaching between Pryce's legs and stroking his dick as he tongue-fucked him. And just as he thought his ass couldn't get any wetter, that's when he heard the crippling sound of Chance's voice.
"Can I..." It was such a tender, needy whisper. Pryce almost didn't recognize it. But he knew that it was only because Chance was afraid he would say no, or think he was a freak, or whatever other nonsense that the both of them had constantly been feeling for the past several months.
"Do it," Pryce said, though even he was afraid of what was about to happen. "Fuck me."
And the initial sting of it almost made him wish he hadn't invited Chance inside of him. But suddenly, he felt the glistening arm of Chance glide across his chest from behind, pulling him back against him as he stood on all fours, and Chance's kiss was powerful enough to wash away whatever pain he might have felt in that first moment.
And then, like an avalanche had fallen over him, Pryce could feel him. Twisted so beautifully on the bed, Pryce felt the slick of his tongue against his lips and the thrust of his cock deep inside his hole, and he could no longer keep from hollering. Chance was pushing harder and faster now, and Pryce was gripping two massive hands full of the blanket beneath him as if he would fly right off the bed if he didn't hold on. And he could hear it in Chance's voice as he moaned. There was no stopping him now. Chance was so close. His cock was slamming against Pryce's prostate, blasting him with wave after wave of pleasure, literally fucking the cum right out of him.
Pryce lost all inhibitions in the last five seconds of his orgasm, releasing an animalistic cry as a stream of white burst forth from his erection at the exact moment Chance had shoved his cock into him from behind. The milky fluid soared right past his own cheek and struck the pillow before him.
"Fuck!" Chance breathed, humping away until he simply could not stand it anymore. The moment his cock was in his own hand again, it released a shower of white across Pryce's back. Pryce shivered and panted, amazed by how much he enjoyed the feel of it, despite every law of common decency that would tell him not to. He had made it happen. Forced it out of Chance because they both wanted, and needed it to happen. And he was bathed in the evidence of their encounter.
It felt good. Better than Pryce had imagined it would. And Pryce had a very vivid imagination to begin with. Or so he thought.
The two of them took their time getting cleaned up. Chance couldn't help but splash water into his friend's face as they showered together. Pryce, of course, got shampoo in his eyes and Chance simply laughed as he helped him wash it out. Pryce's head hit a fresh pillow half an hour later, his arm wrapped possessively around Chance's body as it nestled closely into him, pulling the thick blanket over them.
Pryce closed his eyes as he basked in the warm, loving embrace of his friend. He never would have expected the night to end this way, with Chance sleeping soundly under his arm, so comfortable and safe, without a hint of reservation in his rhythmic breathing as he drifted off into a dream. Pryce felt as though he could set up shop in that moment and live there until the world crumbled around him and all that remained was him, and Chance, and this place where they slept peacefully together.
But that's not what happened.
For the next several months, the two of them remained fully committed to the goal of becoming Kamen Riders. They fought hard against every opponent, threw themselves into every excercise, overcoming whatever obstacles that stood before them. Soon, there were only a few potential candidates for the final two Advent Decks left to be given a master. The Strike Deck and the Torque Deck.
The day that the last two Riders would be announced was also coincidentally November 17th. For the last month, the Treadwells had grown accustomed to the frequent visits of Pryce's "friend." Long weekends and sometimes entire weeks would be spent there. It had reached a point where he was almost recognized as a part of the family. Or at least a distant cousin that Pryce's parents would have liked to see a lot less of than they did. But Pryce would not allow them to keep him away. Even as rumors about their private relationship began to surface, he merely pushed them aside, attending to more important things. Particularly on a day as important as the 17th.
Chance paused as he stepped into the darkened guest room, surprised to find that there was a cake on the dresser, covered in green and gold frosting, with glowing candles. Out of the flickering shadows that danced about the room, Pryce emerged with a warm smile.
"Happy Birthday."
Pryce expected a smirk of amusement, but what he received instead was a stunned, almost teary-eyed look. The last time anyone had cared enough to celebrate Chance's birthday was when he was eight years old. Chance likely wasn't even aware that Pryce had remembered his birthdate after telling him randomly in some long-forgotten conversation weeks earlier.
"I..." It was all Chance could say. His lips were upon him in three seconds flat.
Nearly a year had passed since the day Pryce had met his best friend. Two birthdays, an unusually awkward Christmas at the Treadwell estate, and a couple of weekend trips later, the two of them found themselves standing in the great hall side by side, in front of an audience of all the previously-selected Kamen Riders. Pryce and Chance stood in a line with three other potentials. And every single person was strong, dedicated, intelligent, and absolutely lethal in battle. Any one of them could have been chosen to take up an Advent Deck.
"Chance Leery, step forward."
He was the second man whose name had been called. The first man was already halfway out the door, fighting back tears brought on by his rejection, after an entire year of tireless effort. Pryce's heart began to pound in his chest as he suddenly realized the man he loved might be headed for the same fate. As much faith as he had in Chance's abilities, he knew that every person in that line was almost as powerful, and there was no way of knowing if Master Eubulon would see in Chance what Pryce had seen all this time. That he was the only one among them truly worthy of that first Deck.
"Congratulations."
Chance blinked for a moment as though he could not believe what he was hearing. Eubulon spoke words like "honor" and "duty" and "excellence" as he thrusted the Torque Deck into his hands and a flash of energy coursed through him. Pryce stood in awe of him, so proud that he wanted to rush into his arms to kiss him and tell him how much he deserved it. But just as quickly as the moment had begun, he heard Eubulon's voice yet again.
"Pryce Treadwell."
Pryce stepped forward, and the grin he caught from Chance's face was too infectious to fight off. Even if it looked ridiculous for him to smile away as he looked up at Master Eubulon, he didn't care. He was riding through an amazing high and refused to push the feeling aside. He had worked too long and hard not to enjoy it.
"I'm sorry."
Pryce's smile dropped. Eubulon's next few sentences did not include words like "honor" or "duty" or "excellence." Except perhaps to advise Pryce to keep striving for those ideas. Pryce was certain that the Master was trying to sound encouraging, particularly since he had made it so far, but Pryce could barely hear him over the sound of his own inner voice screaming in his mind. He had failed. A year of his life devoted entirely to this one goal. This only goal. This one final chance to escape the relentless grip of his parents and that meaningless lifestyle that tore at him from the inside.
Pryce politely thanked Eubulon for the opportunity, who shook his trembling hand and moved on to the next potential. And thank goodness, because Pryce felt as though he might break down right then and there. He quickly turned in order to leave the line, catching Chance's gaze as he walked.
The look on Chance's face defied description. It was as though someone had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out, right when he was at his happiest. His eyes suggested that he would have given anything to be able to rush over and stop him, to try to console him. But they both knew that it would be impossible.
Regardless of what the others might think of Chance suddenly running out in the middle of the selection ceremony, there was nothing that could have consoled Pryce in that moment. In the coming months, Ventara's battle with Xaviax was going to intensify in ways that Pryce could hardly imagine. Not only was Pryce going to be denied the honor of fighting alongside the other Riders to defend his people, but he would be denied the company of his friend, who most certainly would not have time to be with him while fighting on the front lines of what was soon becoming a full-scale war.
It was a short time later that Pryce was riding in his limo, watching the morning news, that he saw the broadcast. Blurred images of a warrior in green armor battling strange creatures. The hero fought valiantly, fending off a horde of monsters as a young girl and her father ran to safety. The newscasters praised the hero, sending out a prayer for his safe journey across the world to fight another day. Pryce sighed with a half-smile. At the very least, he could be proud of his friend for achieving his dream. He had escaped the awful life he was born into, and made something wonderful out of himself.
This was the day Pryce made the decision to join the war effort. Even if he was not a Kamen Rider, he could not let Chance and the others fight alone. He enlisted that afternoon with the Ventaran Global Intelligence Circuit.
The next two months were the most frightening time of Pryce's life. One day, he would find himself hiding in the basement of some abandoned warehouse on the opposite end of the planet, unscrambling covert messages between two enemy camps. The next day he found himself hurling his fist into the jaw of the creature that leaped out of a mirror to destroy him and his unit.
Without the protective skin of a Kamen Rider, Pryce was vulnerable in battle. And though his body would eventually become racked with injuries, he would never allow his enemies to deliver a serious blow. But whenever his knees would buckle, and he felt he could not stand from the pain inflicted upon him, his thoughts would drift back to the time when he and Chance first met that morning on the training mat, and he would force himself to keep going.
A monster came crashing out of the twelfth-story window of his hotel room, thrown out by Pryce's deadly kick, exploding into the ground as it fell. His kick was fueled by the memory of Chance. And against such power, there was no defense.
Suddenly, Pryce's phone began to vibrate in the pocket of his ripped dress shirt. Pryce's jaw dropped when he heard the voice that spoke his name through the speaker. It was the first time he had called him in six weeks. Which might as well have been six years after all that he had been through.
"What up!"
Pryce would have liked to imagine that Chance was only calling him because they were friends. Because he missed his voice. Their long conversations, which could have lasted for hours, on some crazy topic that anyone else would have found ridiculous. And though Pryce could feel a bit of sorrow lingering in his voice for having been apart from him for so long, he knew Chance would probably only be calling for something important.
It took seventy-two hours for Pryce to return to the country after hearing the news. The man who had first been selected to become Kamen Rider Strike was dead. An arrow to his throat while he was out at a bar, partying carelessly without the Strike Deck in his pocket like it should have been. As sorry as Pryce was to hear the news, he couldn't help but feel as though he would not have been defeated simply because he was without his Advent Deck. Because that was what he had been doing for the past two months. He would hear rumors later on that this incident was what prompted the "failsafe program" Master Eubulon embedded into the Advent Decks to ensure that no Rider would lose their life as long as they had their Deck with them. Or so he hoped...
Chance looked different somehow. Not much had changed about his physical appearance, but something in his eyes had shifted since the last time Pryce had looked into them. The escalating war had affected him somehow, but Pryce was not perceptive enough to understand whether it was for the better, or for the worse. And he was equally confused by the awkwardness of Chance's touch when they gave each other a friendly hug outside Eubulon's base.
"Hey." Chance still had a way of communicating a mix of deep emotions through the smallest collection of syllables possible. In Chance-speak, that meant that he was happy to see him after all this time, and glad that he was safe.
"Hey," Pryce replied, almost mimicking his old friend. Because there was something in Chance's tone that told him that things were not the same between them. Even if they both wanted back what they used to have. The severity of their situation was too grave to let it happen.
And then there was Diane.
Pryce would eventually learn that Diane was one of the soldiers assigned to assist the Kamen Riders on reconnaissance missions in the northern sector of the country. It was clear by the way Chance spoke of her that their relationship was not always strictly professional. And a part of Pryce wanted to be angry at him for it. But the truth was that Mr. Treadwell had introduced him to a young woman shortly after the war broke out. She was a snob, of course, but she at least cared enough about the world around her to donate to the war effort with a share from each of her enormous paychecks. Pryce had found that he did not object to her company on the few occassions they dated before he left for Global Intelligence.
Little of this mattered now. Because Chance and Pryce were back together. And though their relationship had gone from friendship, to love, then back to friendship, one thing remained constant. A deep desire to be by each other's side.
And as the last remaining news services continued to report casualties of the growing war, and missing persons reports were filed across the world, Kamen Rider Torque and Kamen Rider Strike continued their tireless battle with the enemy, along with the rest of Eubulon's forces.
And Pryce could often feel the wildly inappropriate smile hiding behind Torque's mask as they were both caught inches away from potential death, but somehow Chance knew that they would both make it out of the battle alive. With the help of Torque's Final Vent attack, they did. And it was Chance who held him tightly as Pryce finally, for the first time, cried into his shoulder when he heard the news that his family had been teleported away, lost on some desolate alien planet ruled by Xaviax, along with nearly everyone else in his home city.
Huddled in the dark of some old, half-destroyed apartment, the two sat together on the dusty floor. Chance had not kissed him since that day at the training hall, before he became Kamen Rider Torque. But as he looked into the tear-soaked eyes of his friend, he could not bear to keep their lips apart.
Chance could never hope to wash away the kind of sorrow his friend felt. But he could lessen his pain. Pryce fought back another well of tears as Chance took him into his mouth right there on the floor. His tongue dashed across the surface of his stiffening cock in ways Pryce never knew it could. And all the while, Chance's gentle fingers never left the back of Pryce's neck, softly massaging away whatever pressures that had built up there after so long, waiting for a release that might never come.
Pryce breathed heavily. He knew that this would not mean that they were together, like it did the first time they were like this. But he did not care. Whether this was the last time, or there were a hundred more times left to come, he was going to savor the touch of Chance's skin against his own. The smell of him that enveloped the hot air between them. The passionate way he applied just the right amount of pressure to every part of him that needed it, even though Chance probably wanted even more.
Pryce found himself on his knees as Chance tugged his own pants off, his legs parting around him, waiting for Pryce to enter him.
"Take me," Chance said. And he did.
Pryce's face was so close to Chance's that he could feel every trembling breath on his skin as it escaped the other man's lips, forced out of him by the steady rhythm of Pryce's cock pushing deeper into his hole. Pryce moved faster as the intensity grew stronger, and Chance's fingers returned to the back of his neck, driving him absolutely insane. Pryce's lips were so wet now. Chance would not allow him to break away from the kiss, even as he fucked him so aggressively that he feared he may yank himself right out of him by accident.
Chance was determined to make him feel it. Not just that he was leaning over a man he physically desired. But that the man he leaned over was someone that cared deeply for him. No matter what would happen in the future between them, he refused to let Pryce go without transmitting that one emotion through his touch. Even if they never touched again. Never heard each other's heartbeat, or told each other dumb jokes that no one in the world would laugh at but the two of them. Even if their lives were entangled with other people through friendship, or love, or marriage. Even if they never saw each other for the rest of their lives. This connection was forever.
"Chance... Chance!"
Pryce cried out as a blinding orgasm ripped through his body, and the sound of it forced Chance to follow him right after, the cum bursting onto his chest as they moaned into each other's tongue-tangled mouths...
By the time Pryce and Chance returned to Eubulon's base, the news had already hit. Fifty percent of the planet was now gone. Even if the rumors were true about Xaviax and his elite generals all having been destroyed, Ventara had been hollowed out by whatever remained of his underlings.
Pryce glanced over at Chance with a grim, hardened look, and he returned his glance with the same expression. They both had lost their parents. Whatever friends or family they might have had before the Rider Program. And however long it was going to take, they knew that the battle was far from over.
==========
Pryce tightened his grip on the cold metal of the railing as he stood upon the rooftop, staring endlessly into the vastness of the empty city that stretched out before him. A streak of white cut across the sky and the roar of thunder could be heard from a distance as an army of restless clouds reached out across the black Ventaran sky. After all that had happened, the city was nearly emptied. Xaviax's forces had already succeeded in stealing away eighty percent of the planet's population, and those that remained had spent the next three years on the run from the creatures that sought to abduct them.
Pryce's teeth grinded behind his lips. The city where he was born and raised had been turned into a ghost town overnight. Pryce felt as though he could have ripped the railing right out of the bolts that held it down with the strength brought on by his frustration. And that's when he heard it. The noise that sent a shiver down his spine. The ominous tingle that alerted him to the presence of danger. One of Xaviax's assassins had appeared just behind him.
As he stood there waiting, the first hint of rain began chattering against the leather of his jacket. A slight hiss lingered in the air as the creature reached out for him. The images of the past flashed through Pryce's mind as his hands lifted from the metal railing and curled into fists.
The monster shrieked in surprise as a menacing punch came rocketing into its face, launching it several feet back through the falling rain. Out of Pryce's jacket came the glimmering Strike Deck.
"Kamen Rider!" he shouted. And in an explosion of energy, Pryce's body was bathed in light, clothed in the violet armor of Kamen Rider Strike.
Strike lifted his cobra staff through the screen of falling rain, pointing directly at the creature as it stood up to face him, its red eyes glowing in the darkness with venomous hatred. Suddenly, a ball of flame burst forth from its jaws, slamming into the Rider with such strength that he was thrown off his feet, the staff slipping from his fingers into the night air.
Before Pryce knew what was happening, the creature was upon him. Its claws ripped into his suit, sending a stream of hot sparks ejecting from the surface of his armor. Strike tried to wrestle himself free, but the creature was too strong. Pryce's eyes widened behind his helmet as he watched his enemy's jaw begin to open, a smoldering ball of flame about to be shoot from his glowing throat into Pryce's face.
But suddenly, Pryce could hear it. The sound of footsteps. And then gunfire.
Sparks were scattered from the monster's face as a pair of glowing bullets came shrieking out of the shadows, landing between its eyes. Strike took the opportunity to kick the creature off of him and roll up to his feet.
The monster looked up in shock as Strike stood there, locked in a fighting stance, as Kamen Rider Torque stepped into view right next to his comrade. The muzzle of his gun was smoking with the evidence of his last shot, as raindrops bounced off of his green armor.
"You freaks never learn, do you?"
With that, Torque activated his Shoot Vent, summong a massive cannon into the metallic grip of his hands. And as the creature foolishly rushed forward to stop him, Torque pulled the trigger. The ensuing explosion spilled out across the entire rooftop, showering the two Riders with flame and smoke, which was quickly dispersed by descending rainfall.
When the dust finally cleared, Chance and Pryce stood alone together, each gripping tightly to the Advent Decks in their hands. It had been so long since they first received these things. And there seemed to be so much left to do.
"That's why I'm here," Chance continued. "Eubulon finally made up his mind. We're going ahead with the plan."
Pryce stood there in the rain for a long time upon hearing those words, allowing his face and hair to be soaked by the chilling water.
It was time. Eleven Kamen Riders would be placed in suspended animation, while the twelfth Rider remained awake to fight whatever was left of Xaviax's minions on Ventara. It was a plan that not all the Riders seemed to agree with. But after all that had happened to their world, there was not much choice. There was only the faint hope that each of them would be awakened into a world completely free of war. Where they would be free to live, and to love, however they wanted.
"I'm here to bring you back with me," Chance said. "He wants us to begin right away."
"Well, I guess that's that." Chance could barely hear him over the screaming rain. And Pryce did not have the will to speak any louder.
Pryce suddenly realized that Chance had begun moving in closer, as if to kiss him.
"You sure you wanna do that?" Pryce asked. He tried not to make it sound hurtful. His words came from a place of concern. For both of them. Especially given what they were about to give themselves over to.
Pryce had never truly seen Chance cry. And as the raindrops covered his face, Pryce wasn't sure if that's what he was seeing in this moment.
"I'm sure," he said, already diving into him.
Pryce kissed his old friend, his comrade in battle, the love of his life, and walked off into the night.