"Huff. Huff. Huff..." The Eerie sounds of his own echo and hard breaths plague his ears in the hall's emptiness. The bouncing stamps of his shoes against the newly waxed floor taunt in a screeching tune. He realizes how weak he has been, unable to hold himself up.

Crescent often stumbles to his aching knees before he pulls on anything tacked to the wall to stand again. What has just unfolded will forever be etched into his memories as one of the worst things ever happened to him. The entire situation is pure confusion and a realm he didn't know his body would kindly accept.

Crescent doesn't like it. Not when the person touching him did not have his consent. The lasting effects leave his body slowly, making him hypervigilant about everything around him. He doesn't care if someone has seen him. Tunneling vision told him how far he thought to be away from salvation. Making sure he will remember even this struggling walk to his comfort zone. His stride staggers, longing to be safe, in hopes of meeting his dorm room with gushing satisfaction.

The never-ending torment of moments of touch sends unwanted twitches between his legs. He's still hard and his underwear is wet. Body ravished by hands of impurity, a creeper with a sense of entitlement, nurturing a desire he hadn't known to exist until he fell into that trap. Like fire melting his core, pulse rising to heights that cause gasping breaths of anxiety. It feels good, his thighs grazing against his erection. The unfortunate situation makes him want to cry, but he only allows himself a quivering jaw and a glazed-over expression.

Confusion, rage, uncertainty but what he felt most, played in his mind like a broken record-- Kisha.

Leaning against a nearby wall for support, balance, Crescent feels the cold bricks, chilling the sweat that dampened his white shirt. He stops for a moment to focus. It's hot, the atmosphere suffocating his muscles of oxygen, his body of gravity and he wants nothing more than to stop and collapse. Someone will find him here and he can only hope they'd help. His mind travels to making it to the nurses office. Somewhere he knows he will be safe, but he's unable to figure out in which direction she is.

Everything is unreal. He's afraid of the never-ending, demanding... cravings, which seek him to try and halt them in that room. He called out to the only person he thought he could count on. Raising his hand, placing a gripping palm against his chest, Crescent coughs, his knees buckling. He can't do it anymore. Slowly his weight begins to drift to the ground, eyes focused forward.

As Crescent tries to steady himself, he reaches up and grabs a cold doorknob. The door swings open suddenly, causing him to topple inside. He curses softly, sucking his teeth in frustration, until a familiar, calming voice rings in his ears. He brightens and looks towards the person.

Has he traveled that far?

"Cres? W-what the hell happened to you?!"

A baffled and jumpy Ahni sits on the edge of his futon, slipping off his shoes with his back against the wall. He was more focused on his cell phone before Crescent came in. The sudden crash startles him, and seeing his brother causes Ahni to toss the phone onto the bed. He quickly stands up, arms held out in front of him in worry. 

Whenever Crescent suffers physical injuries, Ahni tries to soothe him, but he always ends up pushing Ahni away. Although Ahni wants to approach and help, Crescent's refusal to accept that care keeps Ahni at a distance.

Did someone beat him up? Crescent's shirt is wrinkled, buttons undone, and his pants are askew. His actions indicate he may be disoriented as if he has been drugged. Ahni's face falls, the worry in his eyes turning pale and ghostly. No,

"We need to tell The Principal, Crescent. I-if there's a creep on the school campus then--" Ahni can't finish it. The thoughts of the horror play out in his mind. To know that someone as strong as Crescent a victim, it's dreadful.

"I'm alright. I just..." Crescent eyes land on the wooden door that leads into the bathroom. His body wanting nothing more than to seek refuge beneath steaming water. Ahni's suffocating desire to take care of him, he doesn't want to be touched right now. 

"...need a bath."

"You're alright? Crescent stop--"

"Ahni..." He growls, this time his voice unwelcoming. "I just need a bath."

Watching his brother stumble towards the bathroom door, hands placed at his side as his fingers flick repeatedly, Ahni can't help but again feel useless. Crescent's going through the most he has ever experienced in so little time and yet Ahni remains unscathed. How is that fair? It's like being on the streets all over again.

Crescent's feet carry him forward, and like melted ice, his clothing drips and falls in clumps to the ground as he weakly sheds its weight. He drags certain items along with the scuffing of his shoes, refusing to lift his feet until it's time to climb into the tub. His shoes thud softly against the tiled white floor as he pulls off his socks, tossing them aside like useless rags.

He flips on the knob, running the water to the hottest temperate as a warm liquid bursts from the showerhead. The silent cold bathroom fills with sounds of flowing water, steam coating the entire room moments later. Not even standing in the line of fire, Crescent stands hunched over at the back of the tub.

Thoughts of wanting to be alone when he knows he can't drive him to seclude himself behind closed doors. Ahni will pry even if he denies him insight. His legs are finally at a loss, body slumps down to his knees. With his head falling low, Crescent sits in clear defeat.

Idiot. 

Believing that he was going to be ok. Drugged, touched sexually, vulgar hands doing whatever they wanted to him. This was the horror of being in a gang? Rules not applied to those not in normal society. A dark underworld. They suffer their own and sometimes that includes taking someone's dignity. What did Saikai mean when he told Kisha he's showing him something? Why was it that simple for someone with such a pleasant face to hurt another human being? Crescent balls up one fist as tightly as he can. Was all of this just a game?

The only other time he has felt utterly helpless was when they were chased and attacked by street vendors for stealing food. While Ahni was pinned down, Crescent had taken the aggression. As a kid, he was afraid of the strength grown men often inflicted upon him. Known as a town thief, whenever people saw him they increased the stares. It didn't stop Crescent from seeking those that fell short. Old people were his favorite. Had this been punishment for the ruckus he had caused?

At that moment he only denied the desire to stop because everything Saikai had been doing felt right. Worried about his own desire to continue. As if Saikai knew where to touch, how to touch and how much pressure to apply to every spot. His digits wrapped around Crescent's erection, stroking and rubbing the tip, as well as parting his fingers to apply individual pressure. A technique that timed to perfect. If he had no regrets during the entire moment then why--

Crescent brings his hand up to his face to wipe the developing chilly layer of fog on his cheeks. As he rubs away what he thought to just be from the water, a line of warm liquid runs into his palm.

He draws his hand back in shock, eyes widening to find that a tear traces a path to his wrist. He gasps, balling his fists and suddenly cupping his small frame into himself.

He was sexually assaulted. There are no excuses. It was Saikai's fault! He shouldn't have gone with him. His wanted answers were not enough to sacrifice his sanity. No matter if it felt good or not, this regret can not be washed away so easily.

Overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions, the sound of a soft, heavy cry resonates. He is hurt, deceived, and vulnerable, and he is aware of it. He wishes it were not so.

"Ngh—" Sniffles. "Ngh!" Crescent clenches his teeth, fighting to keep his composure. He buries his head in his knees, embracing himself tighter until his skin flushes red. In moments like these, he knows no one will come to his aid. The small bathroom feels like a prison, encasing a fractured soul, suffocating under the weight of his own deeds.

There were always times when a fist had been his savior.

Why has he come to such a place? He would prefer to sleep with the rats in the sewers, alongside the other destitute souls inching towards death. But it's for Ahni that he's here. Struggling to control his breathing, he lets the steam fill his lungs—slow inhales, rapid and heavy exhales. Yet nothing works; despite his efforts to push it away, one thought persistently snaps back.

Those eyes.

At last, he grasps their message. The piercing cold of being prey to a beast driven by desire. Those eyes, unblinking, as they observed Saikai manipulate his body as if it were a marionette.

It's clear that Kisha wants something from Crescent and he can no longer ignore it. The way his gaze was frigid, gushing with a desire abnormal to human emotion. A pile of meat layed before him, but he held back on taking it.

Crescent could feel that wave of pressure, enticing his darkest desire to surface. Without words, they were always asking, begging for him to approach. Charming seductive gaze that makes his heart heavy. What's so alluring about possible regret? Why has the repeated sense of doom behind that door been more interesting than a life of positivity without struggle?

Those eyes warn him of a world poised to shatter him, even with caution. He craves that ruin. What if he's utterly captivated? He can't fathom. Instinct urges him to flee, yet curiosity often seizes him, despite the paradox of his principles.

He feels as though he's encased in ice, yet ensnared within an inferno. The piercing gaze reflects only turmoil. They yearn to devour him, and a part of Crescent longs for oblivion—it seems right to perish. Regardless of his denial, his need surges, akin to the abrupt downpours of spring.

"Y-you didn't help..." He calls in a whimper. He would've believed in it-- someone who's so silently into him or so he thought. Kisha should've saved him from danger or maybe this is all just Kisha's bidding. What if Saikai only did what Kisha wanted him to do?

To force Crescent beneath him until he can no longer find his strength. Until battered, he comes crawling into the arms of that famished beast who will, in the end, look like a hero. Clinging to the needless idea that they both can no longer fight the urges.

"Fuck... you..." Crescent spits back. It will be a cold day in hell before he decides he will be taken so easily. If this is the game they want to play, he knows he has to be smarter in his choices.

As strength, anger builds inside, giving him courage he has lost. Crescent grits his teeth. Even through his growing dislike for Kisha, his heart still pounds, his mind still aching, his body still wanting and that shows with the undeniable ache between his legs.

His head falls backward, thudding against the wall. Crescent's arms unravel and legs slowly part. One hand to trail to calm the raging sexual need, gripping at his erection.

He exhales in pure satisfaction.

Ahni presses against the bathroom door, his ear tuned to the huffs and the rhythmic drumming of the shower that fill his mind. A tentative tap from his finger on the door precedes his departure, granting Crescent his solitude. Whatever befell him, Ahni is certain Crescent will keep it secret, yet even as grown men, Crescent's safety is paramount. Ahni's mind races with potential actions, yet the extent of his intervention remains uncertain.

With a gentle fold of his arms, Ahni traverses the hallway, his gaze cast down, endeavoring to overlook the escalating ache in his gut. 'Worthless,' the term echoes in his thoughts. What is he to do? His eyes brim with tears, his grip tightening over his torso as he advances, only to halt when the emotions become overwhelming. Ahni stops, his chest collapsing inward as a stifled burst of sentiment escapes through his gritted teeth.

"W-Why? Don't you trust me?" Another powerful wave strikes him, causing him to snort and swallow hard. He's struggling to compose himself when the sudden sound of footsteps in the hallway catches his attention. Ahni's head snaps up in alarm to catch the male's eyes darting frantically from door to door, searching for something, his phone gripped tightly in his hand.

"Locklear?" Like a knight in shining armor, Kisha is always there when needed most. Without a second thought, Ahni is overcome with a sudden urge to rush toward his savior. Running with arms wide open, like a child enduring hardship, he abruptly collides into Kisha's chest, seeking comfort in a tight embrace. Almost immediately, Ahni bursts into tears, exclaiming,

"Locklear! You're here! You're actually here! W-W-We have to go... We need to find the principal! It's Crescent! Someone... Someone... Someone hurt him, and I don't know what to do!" These words hit Kisha with such force that they send shockwaves through him, causing him to freeze in the face of Ahni's anguish. He's unable to contain the shared torment emanating from Ahni's body, as if Crescent's pain is alien to him. He was there; he witnessed everything. Kisha closes his eyes, with Ahni pressing against him, urging him to move, but he becomes silent and rigid, his hand clutching his phone dropping to his side like dead weight. The images flash like gold, yet they're tainted by a gnawing regret in his stomach. Why did he allow Saikai to touch Crescent? Why didn't he intervene? Why is Saikai still alive after laying hands on someone who is his—

"Locklear, stop zoning out... Please, let's go!" 

Ahni voice breaks Kisha from his thoughts, nausea boiling inside of his throat. Someone that's his? This foreign thought so naturally spews from within him and puts him on defense, but enough of the theatrics. He resolves the regret by raising his hand and prying Ahni from his frame. Blaming the moment on the amount of sadness, Ahni's carrying around, Kisha searches within himself for a more sound thought. 'Crescent was a fool to trust Saikai.' The young man that stands before him is a mess. Snot running a path down Kisha's shirt, traveling at Ahni's nose. Tears stream over puffy red eyes and a nose that Rudolph will be proud of beams as if a cherry. He's been a wiping pad to various bodily fluids that were not his all day. It's bothersome to know individuals were ever even that close.

A small step back to clear some space, Kisha drags his feet along as he begins to walk forward, placing his phone in his pocket. Ahni follows along silently until Kisha stops at a nearby window, leaning against the frame. Unable to guess why they've stopped, Ahni watches Kisha from behind, looking at his choice of hairstyle. When Kisha wears his blazer he often takes his lazy ponytail, tucking it under the jacket. It's folded at the end so no one can see the length sticking out from under his jacket. He's missing his braids today, but a few short strands hang loose on the left side of his face. The usual black hair tie that holds his hair in place is replaced with a thick normal rubber band. It looks funny and not like him. 

"What if I'm the cause of it?" Kisha's gaze travels to the trees dancing within the wind his body twitching slightly from his own admit, a blink, and his voice falls silent after the guilt spills through. 

"N-N-No!" Ahni ducks around Kisha until he's again in front of him, sucking down a glob of snot and running his sleeves over his eyes. He coughs to clear his throat before his worried stare bounces around Kisha's expression for an ounce of joking. He's so hard to read, Ahni can't make out what he's saying, but it is for certain that he knows Locklear would never. Sexually assualting someone doesn't look like his type of kink.

"I don't believe that at all. You're kind, and considerate, and you only want what's best. I saw how you protected your members the other day. The rumors are because people fear you... You're misunderstood, Locklear--"

"And you're naive to come to such an innocent conclusion." Kisha cuts Ahni off, a glance and the two meet eyes, but Ahni refuses to listen to such talk. Kisha watches as Ahni shakes his head, unable to agree and the thoughts of coming here now but a fleeting regret. He's wishes he didn't encounter Ahni... ever. 

Yeah, it's odd that Kisha shows up right after Crescent appears, but maybe that's for another reason. Ahni balls up his fists, slumping his shoulders as the emotions in his eyes plead with glint at Kisha's empty stare. 

A slow inhale and Kisha swallows hard. All of those kind words are delivered as if he's everything but a low life criminal. How different from what he's heard. Not knowing whether or not how to perceive such a high opinion, Kisha decides to not entertain it. He prefers those around him to fear him. It's easier that way in these walls. It's only when they don't that things become complicated. He hates those who are full of empathy-- Ahni''s type. They know too much and they're not afraid to challenge his thoughts. They are too honest; innocently, brutally honest.

"Locklear, there's something I need to ask you because I believe you're capable of it," Ahni says, blinking several times as he searches for the right words in his mind. He bites his lower lip, sniffles again to clear his runny nose. Deep down, he feels certain about this; the world, and even this school, harbor true monsters. Soulless, indifferent figures who roam carelessly, sometimes instilling fear. The sense of inferiority within these walls, the powerlessness to assist or defend Crescent, and the regrets of not measuring up all culminate in the plea that Ahni articulates so naturally.

"Protect Crescent." He whispers. "If something happens to me, just... look out for him ok? I know he's not the best human to be around, but we don't have anyone. No guardians, no family-- just each other. He's hard-headed, stubborn, and childish, but he's not all that bad once you get to know him." The awkwardness Ahni feels creeping through his skin forces his nails to run up and down his arms to shake off these feelings. Locklear, no matter how he looks at it is the best person to ask of this. He's sane in this harsh world.

"I'm not a babysitter." Kisha snaps back, but a sense of relief washes over him. That's a simple and easy request.

"I-I know..." Ahni sighs. "But, Crescent I think likes you--" Ahni grumbles. "Or something. He was looking for since he caught a boner-- and oh my god, I'm so sorry you had to see that. I have never seen him go full creepy." Ahni again scratches his arm, unsure of what he's trying to say, but the words are coming and he's going along with it. 

"At lunch, he was looking for you and even now that he's hurting, he called your name-- I know you didn't do it. So, please, don't umm..." Ahni pauses. "Don't tell me right away. Later, ok? Just look out for him. I... I'm not strong enough."

The silence between them grows after Ahni's emotional and confidence lacked words, leaving Kisha at the mercy of whether or not he's going to agree. While he has to admit, he's drawn to Crescent, to flat out tell someone of his intentions is a hassle in itself. He glances over Ahni's worried frame, knowing that what he's saying is sincere. A grown man with the mind of a child stands before him full of emotions and love. Something he's void of. Something he hates the most, but someone that always crosses his path.

Weak and vulnerable souls remind him of the smiles his parents carried around. 

Kisha presses himself further into the frame of the window, the cold chill pressing through the cracks as it slightly cools the small area, including his face. He's more grounded the more he focuses on the world around him. The smell of the air seeping through, the grass, and the world beyond these walls always beckon him. Life out there in the darkness, the unknown is heaven. As much as he wishes to be free, still, he again finds his straying eyes falling into Ahni's frame. 

The sole person who bears such a striking resemblance to Crescent. The sole person who exhibits the compassion and frailty that Crescent conceals. Why did he come here, following behind Crescent as he swiped away at the sweet scented pre-cum Saikai smeared on his face? What words was he going to say? The anger, the regret, the betrayal, it's intensity flowed through his stride and he was a moment too late.

Redemption in these perfect eyes that are waiting for his answer?

"Alright," Kisha whispers, confusing himself as to why his agreeing doesn't sound too bad. 

Ahni lights up, a big smile plastered across his face. His eyes close in relief and before they can both process the situation, he again throws his arms up, desperately finding himself buried in Kisha's frame. The smell of vanilla, the warmth of a sturdy human being, it's something that Ahni could get used to. It feels like he's hugging his uncle all over again. He turns his head pressing the side of his face against Kisha's chest.

Guard no longer as high as he'd like, Kisha allows Ahni's thank you embrace. 

"Your heartbeat is high. Do I make you shy?" Ahni starts to awkwardly giggle.

Kisha's subtle change in expression to becoming bothered, his pupils suddenly dilate, and he instantly steps back, placing space between them.

"You're annoying..." He grunts, turning away from Ahni before traveling back towards their room door.

"Huh? W-Wait! I'm sorry!"

Crescent's smell takes Kisha in front of room 203 as he ignores Ahni's plea. He's had enough of him. Kisha glances up at the room door to memorize it out of the corner of his eyes, his hand reaches out and fingertips glide across the wooden door as he passes it. What will it be to open and go inside? The sound of someone squirming around inside, the shadows of their feet gliding beneath the space between the bottom of the door and the floor. The intoxicating smell of Crescent being turned on is what brought him here. He wanted to finish what was started, as that small frame came to beg him for his help. He wanted to take advantage of the weakened cries of a fire worth getting burned over. Crescent sparked something obessive and it's making him thirsty.

A good guy? Ahni thinks of him as a good guy? The mere thoughts sends him into satisfaction. The innocent is manipulated with ideas. That means he can do wrong, right? Even if he devours Crescent alive.  

Every finger falls but the clawed pointer, scratching the wood to leave his mark before he pulls his hand completely away. His steps take him down the silent hall, huffing at the smell that's telling him to turn around. As Kisha goes to turn the corner, his piercing eyes dart down the hall, the quiet voice after the squeaking door echoes, but he's locked onto the individual that comes out of room 203.

"Ahni, why are you out here? Stupid. Let's go to bed."

The only thing he hears before vanishing behind the wall. A heavy swallow soon follows.

(((A/N

I smell a masochist. A sadist?

Poor Ahni.

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