-BodyHeat-

How many of you remember an old story about a club I had, long long ago?
Well, this is it. Again. Only…different. grin Very different. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: The only ones I didn't make up are the Digi-cast. The rest are mine. Except for Akira, but you'll see why. This is largely yaoi, so be on your guard.
It's contagious.
Rating: R – for a reason, people. Sex, drugs, violence, angst…did I mention it was boy/boy sex?
Too late now!

-8-part one-8-
-thursday-

Everything happened on a Thursday. This Thursday was no different. It was the Thursday after three weeks of waiting and disbelieving, the day where nothing could get him down—

A Thursday he remembered as the day the hinges of his battered suitcase broke apart and spilled the contents inside to the world. It was a long walk from the train station to his apartment, dark and threatening to rain.

"Damn," Daisuke muttered. He dropped the suitcase to the ground, and began to gather up his stuff. Daisuke smiled even though the broken and useless suitcase was unwieldy and hard to hold while getting his clothes together, even though the sky looked black enough to rain tar.

At least, he thought, wrapping both arms around his suitcase. Nothing else has gone wrong…

Giving up on holding it shut, Daisuke looked up and wiped a palm over his shirt. Should have moved here next week…but then I'd have to do the school thing and find a job…

Daisuke smoothed fingers over his hair at the unwanted reminder. "Yeah, the job-thing, great."

—and then the sky opened itself up. Great. Just great. That made everything just goddamn perfect—

Cursing, Daisuke gathered his things close to him and ducked into the alley.

Rain was the second thing he would remember about this Thursday. Rain, and how he was dripping wet when he ran headlong into the biggest change in his life—

—not that he knew it was the biggest, though.

"Great. What a great first day." Daisuke shook the dampness off his arms under a rickety awning in the back of the alley, still cursing. Daisuke didn't have much money to spend on washing his clothes; he thumped the back of his head into the door. He'd have to wait until the rain stopped to make it to his new place. Hell if he was going to risk dropping his clothes in a puddle just to find a place he'd never—

The door clicked and shifted. Startled, Daisuke turned to face whoever stood there—

And stared. He couldn't help it.

"…Yes?" the person asked. Daisuke could barely make out his features; mirrored glasses hid the eyes and a thin, pretty face; wild dark hair and darker clothes…a strange, elegant appearance, intimidating and attractive all at once.

"Uh," Daisuke managed. Rain dripped in his eyes. "Sorry, I got caught without an umbrella—" He offered a sheepish smile.

"I see that," the head tilted and Daisuke got the impression the boy—girl?—was looking him up and down. An eyebrow rose while Daisuke wondered what to say, what to do when the boy—it had to be a boy—stared at him so strangely.

"Uhm…"

"Well, why did you knock?" the stranger finally spoke impatiently when Daisuke went for a full twenty-eight seconds without speaking.

"Eh, that was, um, my head hitting the door…"

The stranger raised a brow. "Ah. So there's nothing you need?"

Huddling in his thin shirt, Daisuke kicked at his suitcase and sighed. He shook his soaked hair and muttered mostly to himself, "Need? I just need a job and an umbrella, or hell, even a car…but god, money would be good—"

"Ah," the stranger said. Apparently amused, he reached up with his thin fingers and pressed something behind his ear. Daisuke heard a crackle, and then the boy said, "Ah, Akira?—No, I haven't locked up. In fact, I've got one more for you."

"—huh?" went Daisuke.

The door swung fully open and the stranger waved him inside. "It's late," the boy said, turning away. "But we'll fit you in."

"But—" Daisuke blinked, catching a glimpse of a surprisingly mild smile. "What? But, hey—"

"You can apply in the back," the other called out before he disappeared into the shadows.

"Are you serious?" Daisuke cried, again to himself. "Wait-a-minute—Who the hell are you?"

No answer but the falling rain behind him. Confused, Daisuke reached down and hauled his stuff the short distance inside the doorway, then straightened to peer around with disbelieving eyes. The door swung shut behind him and dropped him into the darkness.

"Apply in the back…? What does he mean, apply in the back?" Daisuke started forward—there was light up ahead, very faint but there. "Uh, hey, hello? Fuck. Where the hell did you go, goth-boy?"

The thin light blossomed suddenly through a set of wide bay-doors; the shadows faded to an unadorned hallway—ahead of him a silhouette of a large, muscled man appeared.

That must be Akira…Daisuke thought I really hope that's Akira…

"You must be the last one." The silhouette beckoned him forward. "Hurry up—we're running late."

"It's only six," Daisuke protested and stepped forward at the same time. "Er—"

The man moved back until Daisuke could make out the dark eyes, bald head and green t-shirt. His voice was low and mild when he spoke. "Name? Age?" Raising impassive eyes, he waited.

Daisuke finally shrugged and the rain dripped from his hair into his face. "Motomiya Daisuke —I'm, uh, nearly seventeen—" The man frowned and Daisuke nearly asked 'why?' but he closed his mouth, covering up his nervousness by wiping wetness away with his wrist. The man stepped back further and waited.

Daisuke realized the man wanted him inside, and darted through.

Then stopped, stunned, and stared. This place… is this some sort of bar? The place was huge, if he could rely on the hollow sound of the room. It was dark and had a high ceiling, perhaps even balconies. Daisuke could see tables and chairs and supporting pillars. It had to be a bar. No house looked like this.

And at least he wasn't alone, either. There were other people scattered in the small semi-circle of light, all of them sitting down in a nice little circle. All of them wore clothes that Daisuke knew he'd never be able to afford. Some had strangely hostile looks—as if he had kicked their grandma—but mostly, they all looked nervous. Daisuke did a quick head count and came up with one girl, and five boys.

They've got to be here for the job, too.

Hey, I'm here for the job, but what's the job?!

"Motomiya!" Akira snapped his fingers.

"Uh, yes?"

"I asked if you attended school, and where—"

"Actually, I think I start Monday—see, I just moved here, so I'll be going to the Odaiba campus…" Movement to his right, and Daisuke glanced up as the dark boy from before began to stalk slowly around the remaining applicants.

"Hmm…" Catching his attention with a hand on the elbow, Akira and escorted him to a small table with two plastic chairs. "Sit."

Daisuke followed the man's movement and wondered in the back of his mind if he was going crazy—the goth-boy hadn't been there a moment ago. And what was up with the circling thing—was he trying to scare the other kids?

Pay attention, stupid, he thought when Akira slid into a chair and did the 'I'm waiting' look. Daisuke took the other chair and tried to sit straight and grimaced at the dampness of his pants. "So, what—um, I mean, what would I be doing?"

"Where have you worked before, Motomiya?"

Daisuke shifted—the chair was oddly uncomfortable and he was starting to get annoyed at the fact the man was ignoring his questions. "I've worked in gas stations, a bakery and a factory up north. I got to put little plastic parts together—Okay, you know what, this chair sucks ass—"

When he stood up and moved the plastic chair aside with his foot, everyone in the room looked at him—even the slender crazy kid raised a brow as Daisuke found another table nearby that had chairs, and pushed one towards the table.

What? What's with the looks? Daisuke thought and wondered if that was a smile the stranger was hiding behind his hand; everyone else looked shocked. He dropped to the chair and tried not to jiggle nervously. Did I do something wrong already?

"I…see." Akira's eyes crinkled slightly, but Daisuke had no idea if that was a good thing or not. "Alright, Motomiya—have any skills?"

"I'm good with people, I'm a decent cook—um, I can pick up new skills pretty fast—"

"Alright. One last thing—and this we can verify, Motomiya, so answer truthfully—Are you clean?"

"Uh…" Well, shit. Daisuke felt the slightest hesitation before answering. "Yes."

The bald man looks at him for a long three seconds before asking, "How long?"

"…five months and two days."

A moment of silence that had Daisuke nearly squirming. The man looked up, and said, "Ok, that's all. You can have a seat with the rest." Akira stood and walked off into the shadows before Daisuke could respond with a simple 'thanks'

"…that's it?" Daisuke muttered to himself and did as requested by moving his chair to the group. "That's gotta be the weirdest interview I've ever had—"

"Ex-cuse you," the singular girl muttered when he brushed by her.

Daisuke blinked when he sat down, nervous enough to finger the charm-bracelet on his wrist. "Yeah, whatever. Hi to you too," he mumbled. Everyone looked as if they were rich, which wasn't unlikely, and Davis strangled the sigh when he looked at his own clothes.

Footsteps. A part of the group now, Daisuke was the only one to look up as goth-boy circled the seven of them. Again. Okay, that's still a little weird, Daisuke thought, fidgeting.

"Um," Daisuke said after moments of uncomfortable silence. He started slowly, looking up, around, everywhere he could because the place was so huge. "This is a club, right?"

Again with the staring; Daisuke shrugged defensively. "Is it?" he persisted when no one answered.

"It is," the teen walking in circles answered. "You didn't know?"

"Just moved here," Daisuke replied. At least he's answering my questions. "Is this…I mean…aw, fuck sounding stupid, but what's the job, anyway? And who are you, goth-boy? And what's up with the rest of you asswi—er, um applicants?"

Soft laughter echoed, bouncing in the emptiness and Daisuke watched the only girl flinch when a hand brushed her chair.

"Are you stupid?" some kid across from him hissed. "Shut up!"

"You will call me Kaizer," the dark-clothed boy whispered when he was behind Daisuke. "And, please, refrain from asking your questions until later."

"Oh, okay," Daisuke replied. "Sure thing—but—"

The Kaizer made a soft noise; Daisuke jumped when fingers brushed back his hair, tilting his head back until he saw pale skin and a curving smirk, heard vague threat in the other's voice. "But?"

"But I don't even know what I'm trying for," Daisuke protested. What the hell is up with the touching? "And no one's telling me."

"Don't worry about that," the Kaizer replied and patted him on the head. "Enjoy your chair."

Huh? Chair? What about my chair? He's crazy. He's gotta be crazy, Daisuke thought, looking down between his knees at the chair. Okay, it was brown and made of wood. Big deal—except, when he looked back around at the other applicants, theirs were plastic. Like the crappy plastic one that he'd had.

…oh. They got the crappy chairs, too. Is that why they're all pissy?

Well, too bad. If they're too bitchy to switch chairs, it's not my problem.

-8-

He had trailed around them just past ten minutes when the Kaizer decided that the group had waited as long as possible, as awkwardly as possible, so he pulled aside one of the nicer chairs and sprawled into it. Three of the boys averted their eyes and shifted, immediately uncomfortable with his nearness despite the fifteen-foot gap between them.

As it should be, the Kaizer thought, amused. He glanced without moving towards the newest, interested just a little more.

The boy Motomiya hadn't reacted; brazenly enough, he was leaning back, a small notebook on his knee, content to ignore everything until something else happened.

Interesting, indeed.

Static crackled in his ear and the Kaizer leaned back, curling two fingers to hide his mouth, clearing his voice until he could drop it low enough to remain unheard. A moment later, he heard Akira ask "Kaizer?"

"Mmm?"

"What's your opinion? "

"…aside from the obvious? Hmm. None."

"Liar."

"Have you found anything?"

"Well, a few checked out and the rest lied through their teeth. The small blond has ties to a lesser gang. "

"Motomiya?"

"…clean slate, odd enough. Can't find anything definite."

"Nothing?" the Kaizer exhaled shortly, pressing his mouth against his hand, voice nearly silent. "No history at all, even after admitted use?"

"Nothing. I've only run the yellow scan on him. You know it's not uncommon for kids his age to experiment and move on without ever getting caught with it."

Kaizer tapped his finger once, twice, and made his decision, unaware as his eyes lingered over the tanned expanse of Motomiya's forearms. "…It doesn't matter. I'm keeping him. Make the necessary arrangements and get rid of the others. Maybe call the blond in a few weeks, but I only want Motomiya for now."

He could hear Akira pause, his slow breathing. "Well," the man finally said. "I'll do a red scan, then. When do you want him to start?"

"Tomorrow. Let me know. I'm going to kick them out, now."

"Sure. Have fun. See you tomorrow."

The Kaizer pulled his feet away from the table and let them thump onto the floor, uncurling until he stood, sudden and sharp. Eyes rose to his figure, startled and fleeting and he nearly grinned at the fear that he could see.

"Alright," he drawled with a white-razor smile. "Get out. You'll be called if we decide to hire anyone presently here."

There was a faltering silence and confusion as the Kaizer crossed his arms and waited. Half-heard whispers, disbelieving mutters. One by one, they all rose from their chairs and the Kaizer watched Motomiya slide his notebook away, eyes darting to the others for hints on what was happening.

"Now," the Kaizer commanded and they all quickened towards the exit.

The Kaizer followed them at a short distance, silent and acid-sharp presence. Followed until Motomiya was the last he could see, bent over his bag and trying to force it shut.

He stepped closer. There was no one near, no one around. "Motomiya," he murmured. "If I may have a moment?"

Motomiya looked up from where he was kneeling on the suitcase, surprised. "Yeah?"

The Kaizer paused in what he was preparing to say, looked down at the suitcase and murmured, "My, is that all you own in this world?"

Motomiya rubbed absently at the back of his head, shrugging. "Um, sort've. I kinda…didn't have a lot of time to pack."

"Mm, I see. That sounds like a bitch." the Kaizer said, mild. "Do you still have questions?"

"Eh…um. Sure. What is this place?"

"Akira's club. The name he chose is BodyHeat, or 'Heat for short." The Kaizer paused, tilted his head. "What's your favorite shape?"

Motomiya blinked at him. "Lightning bolt? What the hell? Who are you?"

"I've already answered that," the Kaizer brushed at his clothes. "Really, Motomiya. You're not good at this game. Have you ever worn a dress?"

"Game? You're playing games—what? Uh…actually, this one time when I was five…" Motomiya trailed off as the gears shifted in his head and the boy realized what 'game' the Kaizer was referring to. After a moment, Motomiya's mouth twitched into a smile. "Do you have a real name?"

Odd boy, the Kaizer thought. …that's something no one ever asked. "Yes. Why are you living by yourself?"

"What makes you think that?"

The Kaizer gestured to the suitcase. "I'm far from stupid. Do you like hamsters?"

"Only if I can kick them," Motomiya shrugged. "You gonna tell me your name?"

"No. What will you do if you don't get a job?"

"I'll get one eventually. I'll be okay for a few months, anyway. Does anyone know your name?"

"Mmm," the Kaizer smiled slightly. Persistant. "No. Tell me, Motomiya. If Akira chooses to hire you…would you accept?"

"What do you mean…?"

"Our policy is to hire only when we have an opening. We haven't made that decision yet; Akira-san would like to be sure that anyone working for us wants to work here."

"uh…Are you always this weird?"

"I prefer eccentric. Answer me."

"…I don't know anything about this place or you…um…people. I can't make a decision like that right away—"

"Yes or no, Motomiya. You only get one chance to answer."

He watched as Motomiya tightened his jaw, tapped a thumb against his mouth and exhaled, finally.

"I'd give it a go, yeah." Then, firmly, "Yes. Yes I would."

The Kaizer showed his teeth in a smile. "Excellent. You start tomorrow."

Motomiya stared at him, dumbstruck. "…you mean—wait—what? Are you fucking real?"

The Kaizer lifted his brow in amusement. "You don't want the job, then?"

"Hell no—I mean, yes, of course—I'll be here by—what time do I have to be here?"

"Five. Dress well."

Motomiya grinned at him, bright and wicked-sweet and the Kaizer tasted heat rising through his spine. The moment passed quicker than thought and after a breath he heard himself say, "Until tomorrow, Motomiya." Turned to walk away, smiled to himself.

"Hey, I don't even know what I have to do, yet!" Motomiya called after him.

"—Five, Motomiya, don't forget!" The Kaizer waved without turning and kicked the bay-door shut behind him, fell back against it and laughed softly.

-8-

Daisuke found himself standing on the damp sidewalk on the front of the building, battered case at his feet and his backpack to keep his belongings dry. Alone, the sky darkening into evening, now he had to find his apartment and he was still over ten blocks away. Time to find a bus, he thought, tucking the case against his side to keep it closed. He trotted down the street.

Half a block down was the bus-stop and Daisuke gratefully dropped to the bench with the junky case in his lap.

"Holy shit. I've got a job. I've got a goddamned job!" he finally said, quietly, and sat there. He wasn't sure if he was ready to laugh at the sheer incredible thing it was, this job, this income—this changed things entirely.

This was gonna be fuckin' awesome—

-8-

"There was a better choice, Kaizer."

"Perhaps." The shadows that Akira stood in didn't reply, didn't move, but he knew the older man wanted to know. Shrugging fluidly, he murmured part of the truth. "He's interesting to me. Obvious past, but no record. Clean now, but that doesn't tell us what he's done. He's… very interesting."

"He'll be attending your school. Your school, Ken. Yours. This isn't a good idea."

"I don't need your advice on that. Besides, why would he ever speak to shy, ostracized Ichijouji?" The dark teen pulled off the mirrored lenses, sliding cold blue eyes to where the older man stood. "There's no reason to worry, so stop lecturing. I get enough from my father." He paused and narrowed his eyes and said, flatly, "Don't ever use my name here again."

Akira made a stiff, frustrated sound, but the argument was already over. "This could become very bad and you know it."

With one last glance, Ken slipped back into the glasses, waved a hand in dismissal. "I'll take that chance. I'm leaving Go home Akira. I'll be late as it is."

"As you wish."

When the man was gone, the Kaizer walked a few steps forward and idly ran his hand along a black-painted pole. "It could," he murmured to himself, amused. "It could get very bad."

-8-

Minutes passed by as fast as the cars, and Daisuke amused himself by examining the surroundings; this would be his neighborhood, now. He wondered if there was going to be anything fun to do, or if that building was a school, or who lived in the apartments across the street. When he finally looked up, he saw a bus rumbling up to his corner.

Daisuke shoved his suitcase to the side and jumped up to the open bus-door . "Hey, you going down the road the next thirteen blocks or so?" Daisuke asked.

"Yeah, yeah, get in already," the driver was already waving him in, impatiently. Daisuke grinned at him, and dropped as much change as he could find in his pockets. Giving the man a 'one moment' gesture, he jumped off the step.

Stuff in hand, Daisuke jumped back up and practically skipped down the aisle; he went all the way back and slid into the only seat. He leaned into the cushion and pulled his backpack onto the seat, propped a foot against his suitcase.

The bus sat there for a moment before Daisuke glanced up. Through the blur of the glass he noticed another person walking up to the bus. He followed the motion with his eyes and saw the driver nod to a slim, pale-skinned boy in a gray student uniform, watched the stranger walk the aisle without looking at anything but the floor.

No place for him to sit, Daisuke thought and flicked his glance away from the approaching student. After a moment, as the boy drew near, he pulled his backpack into his lap without a word.

The kid turned his way, face half-hidden by strands of dark hair. The expression on what he could see of the face seemed startled. Motionless, the boy tightened his fingers over the handle of his bag. Daisuke wondered if the boy would hold onto the grips on the bus the entire time rather than ask to sit.

"Thank you," Cautious, the kid sat down quietly with his bookbag in his lap.

Daisuke shrugged. "'S cool,"

Minutes passed; the bus rumbled past four blocks or so before Daisuke gathered a closer glimpse of the boy, admiring and intrigued. Odd for a boy with fine handsome features and soft attitude to be out here. Too pretty. Too neat. Too clean to be on a bus at this time, in a city that Daisuke used to know.

God, he had to ask. "So uh…why you on this bus?"

"Excuse me?"

The boy looked at him and Daisuke saw his eyes for the first time; inhaled over the static in his chest at the startled, indigo-blue color and half-smiled for the sight of them. He worried at a lip, then smiled again and shrugged. "Why're you on the bus? Where you going?"

"…home. I was at the library."

"…you're a nerd, aren't you?" Daisuke grinned. "Not that it's bad, I know lots of nerds. They'd probably throw a book at me or something if they heard me say that, too."

The boy looked away; Daisuke couldn't tell if he was offended or not. He had to wait, though, for almost a minute before the boy sighed and replied, dryly.

"I suppose I am. And you? Are you homeless?" the boy glanced strangely at his suitcase.

"Nope—not now, anyway. I've got an apt on Fifteen and Eight, down this street? Yeah, I just moved and my suitcase broke—god, I've had the weirdest night and I've only been back in this city for ten hours. Fuckin' unbelievable."

"Is that so?" the boy said, glancing with those fascinating eyes. "Where did you move from?"

"Oh, back from Tamadachi district. My sister set up the apartment here, you know, because my dad thinks I'm a freak and keeps trying to kill me."

"…indeed," the boy murmured, brow marred faintly. "What street did you say you were on?"

"Fifteenth and Eight?" Daisuke said, blinking. "Do you know it?"

"Yes," the boy gestured to the window, smiling faintly for the first time. "We've just passed it."

"—Oh shit," Daisuke leapt to his feet, scrambling for his things and squeezed past the stranger, yelling "Stop, please!" at the driver.

Outside, he skidded over a puddle, thinking There it is—this is it! as he ducked into the doorway of a ten-story apartment. Staggering, he hit the latch with his elbow, and pushed inside sideways. Halfway through, the bus roared and pulled away from the curb.

That boy, Daisuke thought, looked back to see if he could get one last glimpse, watched the bus leave with a strange, discarded sensation. The kid was unseen and it was dark…

I'll never see that guy again, Daisuke thought wistfully. Man. Wish I knew his name. He might've been fun.

-8-friday morning-8-

He got out of his sleeping-bag after nine, stumbling over a few boxes that his sister had left in his apartment, and wandered into the kitchen. Hope she stocked my fridge, too, he thought dully, pulling open the door and greeted himself with…not much.

Well…at least there was some milk. He could work with milk. Oh, look, hey, apples...

There was a piece of paper taped to the milk; it crumpled under his fingers as he opened it and drank. Mildly curious, more interested in going back to bed, he pulled it off and peered at it.

Hey, dumbass, go talk to the school about classes.

"Love you too, Jun, but that doesn't tell me where to go when I get there," Daisuke muttered, sighing. He flipped it over out of habit—and laughed.

Try the office and ask about registration, stupid. I've already filled out most of what you need. Have fun and call me when you get a phone.

"Well, that answers that. Yay. School. Might as well get it over with."

-
TBC

well. Some of you may remember the original as something very different. You're right; it's completely backwards and I love it. XD There was so much more I could do, this way, and I hope it tweaked you enough to read on.

Let me know what you think, people!