Dark Blood

Title: Dark Blood part 1
Author: Phoenix
Disclaimer: I don’t own King of Fighters. I’m poor. This fic is for entertainment only.
Warnings: Borderline NCS, evil people, yaoi aka slash and I wrote it


Shingo awoke from a nightmare and immediately knew it hadn’t ended. Despite his room being pitch black, the young man could sense someone else there, hiding in the darkness.

“Who’s there?” He demanded, summoning up his courage. He was a fighter after all. A simple thief should be no problem.

Two hands caught fire in the void beyond his bed and illuminated a single figure. Shingo’s stomach dropped.

“Iori.” Oh shit.

Fighter or not, even on his best day Shingo was well aware that he couldn’t beat the tall redhead. But if Yagami came to kill him, why wait until he was awake? The possibilities weren’t pleasant.

“What are you doing here?” He tried to keep the nervousness out of his tone.

“You’re Kyo’s student.” As if that explained everything.

‘Oh God,’ panic began to et hit him. ‘He really is here to kill me.’

Determination quickly took the place of fear. Iori might kill him but he wouldn’t go down easily. He would make his teacher proud. Keeping that thought in mind, Shingo went into action.

“Come on then,” he yelled defiantly and threw the covers off meaning to leap to his feet and attack. However, be his his feet could touch the ground, Iori had used one hand to capture both of his opponent’s wrists. The world shifted crazily asngo ngo sought to lash out at the man invading his home and Iori kept moving. Suddenly he was pinned with Iori’s weight pressing him into the bed, arms stretched above him, wrists still caught in an iron grip.

Being trapped under another man shocked Shingo; without meaning to, he stopped struggling as his brain tried to process the new information. Iori remained still. Not moving. Not even breathing hard. Yet his eyes glowed faintly.

“What are you doing?”

No reply was provided. Left to its own devices, the young fighter’s imagination decided to go wild. Evil images of what could follow being trapped as he was filled Shingo’s mind and he was forced to bite back a moan. He was NOT having dirty thoughts about Iori. Especially not with the man on top of him. No, he was not going to remember that he was only wearing a pair of boxers, or that he could feel the heat of the older man, or notice how Iori put out the fire before toug hig him. No. Absolutely not. Then Iori’s body shifted. In silence his captor began to slowly grind his hips against Shingo.

“Oh God,” Shingo gasped as he arched into the contact. This couldn’t be happening. Had to be another one of those annoying dreams. Any second he would wake up needing a shower but safe. Yet it felt so real. So good.

“You like this, Yabuki?” A deep voice filled his ears and it took Shingo a few seconds to realize Iori spoke.

“Please,” he didn’t quite beg. “Please stop.”

Instead, the hand not keeping him prisoner slowly slid down his chest; its destination obvious.

“No! Iori, please!” But the hand kept moving until long fingers reached their target.

“Why?” Shingo couldn’t help the sob escaping his lips as those fingers gently stoked along his flesh. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Glowing and and red hair filled his field of vision. There was no malice or anger anywhere on Iori’s face. Something burned in his eyes though.

“So beautiful.” The tall man purred. “So innocent.”

Shingo didn’t know if he was trapped in Heaven or Hell as Iori leaned in and seized his mouth. The kiss was everything any dream ever promised. Possessive, hot, demanding, and at the same time soft, gentle. With a moan he opened his mouth to invasion half fearing to taste alcohol. For if this was real, no other explanation came to mind.

However, the union was too brief for him to truly sample anything. Those lips instead choose to move along his jaw, down his throat, and slowly over his chest. He expected Iori to stop at his nipples. Not once did Shingo imagine those lips would bypass that area.

“No.” This time he really did struggle. “You can’t, Iori. You can’t.”

Iori did though. The hand stroking him pulled down his boxers exposing him to the cool night air. The temperature change had barely registered when warmth and wetness shut out everything.

“OH GOD!” Shingo twisted helplessly. Something ran along the underside of his erection and Shingo’s mind shut down. “IORI!” The world narrowed until darkness was everything.

Gasping for breath, Shingo shot out of bed and kept going until he collided with his dresser. Panting he scanned the room for Kyo’s rival. Nothing. In fact, the sun was shining and his clock showed five minutes until he was supposed to get up. There was no visible sign anyone had broken in or that Yagami Iori had been there.

“Another dream,” he sighed, sagging against the dresser. Just a dream. The seventh in as many days. Yet it had felt so real. “What is wrong with me?”

Further questions were pushed aside when his alarm went off. First came college. Later he could figure out why he was having such hot dreams about a man that probably would kill him on sight.

More than twenty miles away, Iori awoke feeling disoriented. He’d dreamed of that boy again. Kyo’s student. What was his name? Shingo. The things he did to Shingo. The redhead shook his head trying to clear the images. It wasn’t easy. All the enthusiasm the kid showed in fighting carried over into other areas. His name cried in desperate pleasure still echoed in his ears.

Cursing, Iori rose and went to the bathroom; those dreams were causing him too many problems. They had to end. So, today he was going to deal with the source personally.

Unknown to either fighter, someone was watching them. Even as Shingo left for school and Iori finished his shower, a report was being filed. In the shadows of an alley, two men held a hushed conversation.

“So, the dreams are having the desired effect?” The voice came over a cell phone.

“Yes, Sir. And we have reports ‘K has entered the area.” Said the man holding the phone.

“Excellent. The others?”

“They have left their previous locations. But as to whether or not they are heading for the target, we don’t know.”

“We will just have to step up the pressure. Keep Yagami from acting until all the players are here.”

“Yes, Sir. Anything else?”

“No. Keep things under control. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

“Yes, Sir.” The man hung up and left the alley. There was a great deal of work to do. Things were almost perfect. Almost time for them to start.