Beer is Bad

This is the first chapter of a smut EPIC I plan on extending on. It's kind of PWP, or just really pornographic. I don't own King of Fighters, or really anything for that matter, oh well.

Read, enjoy, and review. :)



Beer is Bad




Kyo Kusanagi was a man fighting a constant uphill battle. Unfortunately for the lean brunette fighter, God had not dealt him a favorable hand with love and he was suffering because of it- greatly.


You see, from the first time Kyo's fists had made contact with his rival's beautiful face, he was hooked. Iori was the ignition to his flame, the purpose that breathed life into his dulled lungs.


He pushed Kyo to the brink, pushed him to be the best that he could be and continuesly reminded him just why he was alive. If it wasn't for Yagami, he would have died long ago.


Kyo was raised to be fierce. His family ingrained a hate for his redheaded rival and everything Iori stood for since the day he was born through the harshest methods imaginable; a startling fact that no one knew and still gave him nightmares. Iori, he pictured, had a similar childhood.


They were two sides to a disfunctional, berserk coin. Kyo had come to accept this long ago, finally overcoming the fear his family had built into his very genes to subtly realize over the years exactly what he felt for the taller redhead. It had taken him so long- an eternity, seemiling, to come to terms.


He was gay, and he was in love with the one person he could never have.


Kyo chuckled darkley into his beer, his battle was mount fucking everest. The bar was thick with smoke and dimmed lights cast a dark amber glow over the room. Acoustic music played softly in the background and the warrior sighed. How long had it been since he had even since Iori? A year?


He had been out of the fighting circuit for awhile, systemically removing all traces of his family background from his life. It was better that way- the only was that he could truly live as himself and not this generation's Kusanagi puppet.


Besides, he didn't even know if he had the balls to go back; to face Iori again and see the glowing hatred from alluring violet orbs. Kyo sighed, taking a sip of his bitter beverage and reveling in the fuzzy feeling swimming around in his head.


The bar was dead, he being on of four people milling absently around. Quiet, quant- it reminded him of his lonely life at home, not having any friends besides his tournament buddies. Hell, he hadn't talked to Benimaru in something like six months; he was truly alone.


The door dinged and Kyo didn't bother to lift his stare from glowing bubbly liquid. The music continued to drawl in the background and he continued to wallow, silently.


"Kusangi?" The brunette's thoughts ceased for a moment, that sounded like Iori. Glancing up, he saw no one and once again returned to staring pensively at his beer, thinking he was on a one way street to the nut house. Someone slid next to him on the bar and his fingers tightened on the neck of his bottle. Of all the fucking places this asshole could sit, he had to inva-


"Kusanagi? Is that really you?" He jumped, cocoa eyes wide in apprehension.


"Y-Yagami?" Iori's face went from a slight hint of surprise to what he thought was almost predatorial, eyes darkening with some uncomprehensiable emotion. Kyo was to... happy to think about just how Iori was looking at him.


"What the hell are you doing here, Iori?" Kyo's face was drawn tight, uncomfortable with the thought of an altercation with the one he had secretly admired for so long.


"What, I can't have a beer?" Iori smirked darkly, crossing his arms and leaning on the counter, a red eyebrow raised. Kyo blushed, tan complexion darkening to a pleasing sienna.


"I just... I didn't think you came to bars and stuff..." Kyo looked down, feeling foolish.


"And stuff? I do everything everyone else does, Kusanagi..." The dripping
sarcasm made him cringe. What was wrong with the picture? Oh wait, Iori wasn't shooting giant purple fireballs at his face and grinding out insults. It was very... strange, seeing Iori in a normal setting. He thought Iori would be off scaring small children and being just psychotic in general. Weird. Kyo felt his eyes sag as Iori signaled the bartender for a drink. Kyo was tired, and not up for dealing with Iori's blinding hate for him.


"Well it was very nice seeing you, but I'm afraid I'm must leave you. I have... work or something." He giggled, words slurred slightly. Wow, he was a lot drunker then he thought. He swayed, stumbling to the door. He had yet to realize the tall dark figure following his impaired self outside.


Walking past the alley next to his apartment, he let out a strangled cry as he found himself pressed up against the cold concrete of the wall and gasped as he found dark sunset irises staring heavily into his own. A wide hand held his hands captive above his head, the other running slow fingers down his cheek to grasp his chin.


Oh god, Iori was finally going to finish him off. Why was he stupid enough to get drunk? He found that his voice refused to work as he chest constricted, heaving. He was going to die.


"Why'd you leave so soon, Kusanagi? I didn't get a chance to get... reaquanted..." Warm breath tickled his cheeks and he shivered, Iori's voice was thick with glee. The prediotory smile gracing his taller rival's handsome face shook him to the core. The hand on his chin slipped down, running purple finger nails over a vulnerable neck. Kyo began to shake.


"I-Iori, what are you going to do, huh? Were in p-public." Kyo hated the way his voice broke and Iori's stray hand began to play with his belt. The redhead's smile widened, eyes almost glowing.


His eyes glued themselves shut, expecting the worst and he gasped as crimson lips roughly took his own. Iori's tongue assualted his own, taking everything he could and Kyo whimpered, unable to comprehend. What the hell was happening?


Iori's pale hand worked up the hem of his shirt, cold fingers grazing trembling bronze skin. Pulling his lips off Kyo, he studied the brunette's flushed panting composure, satisfied. The shorter man could do nothing but stare, arousal disturbingly evidant. Snickering he tilted Kyo's chin up, forcing him to look into deep purple eyes.


"You live around here, Kusanagi?" Kyo could only manage to nod and 'Nnngh,' Iori grabbing his elbow to drag him into his building. Once they got into the elevator, he found himself thrown up against the wall, the redheads abnormally long tongue jammed down his throat.


He was moaning, unbridled, finally giving in to what ever fucked up dream drinking to much had graced him with. He was dreaming, so he could moan like a whore and not feel bad. Toned legs wound themselves around the taller man's waist and Kyo let out a soulfull wail against the older man's lips as Iori ground himself against the brunette, hands delving below the spandex line of his boxers. The door dinged and opened, Iori hauling the shorter man out, almost sprinting down the hall.


"Room number?" Kyo murmered 304, and dug the key from his pocket and handing it to the redhead, the daze he was in incapacitated him.


Once they were inside, the door slammed shut and he once again found himself up against the wall, Iori's ruby tainted lips fastened to his neck and strong fingers gripping his hair to tilt his head back. Kyo moaned, loving the roughness as Iori bit his shoulder and unfastened his jeans.


"Bedroom, now." Kyo pointed at which door it was and Iori grabbed him from the wall, throwing open the door, and shoving him on the bed, covering the brunette's quivering body with his own.


Iori was so muscular, tall, beautiful... Kyo couldn't get over how immaculately stunning his rival was. Iori ripped of his pants and boxers in one swift movement and he arched, erection exposed to the cold air and he stared at his rival's face, loving the predatory smirk that had not left his love's pale visage since Iori had cornered him in the alley.

"Iori, please-" Iori pulled back, taking an unabashed look at his sprawled form and his cheeks burned; Iori slowly discarded his shirt and pants, tossing them clear accross the room. He noted the lack of underwear and mentally snickered. Iori was a free baller under those tight red pants, just as he suspected.


"I want you to tell me what you want, Kusanagi, everything... I want you to scream it." Iori began to slowly move over Kyo's straining arousal and the brunette fisted the sheets, biting his lips so hard he tasted a copper tint.


"Please, Iori, I w-want you..." Iori's pace slowly increased and Kyo's dark head was thrown back as a warm finger was roughly pushed into his entrance. Iori had been waiting so long to see Kyo vulnerable to him like this, beautiful form spread open and heaving to his touch; dependant on him for release.


The power made his blood boil and his dick twitch with anticipation. He didn't know how long he could wait before he simply took the brunette, fucking him stupid. Iori looked at him expentantly, and Kyo whimpered.


"God damnit, Yagami, fuck me! FUCK ME!" Iori growled beastially, grabbing the shorter man by the back of his knees and hauling Kyo to him. Glancing around, he smiled ferally as he leaned over to grab the bottle of lotion Kyo had sitting conviently on his bedstand and poured a globs on fingers, shoving them roughly into the brunette. He hit that spot and Kyo screamed, pre-cum oozing from the tip of his purple tinged erection.


He began to pump three fingers in and out as Kyo whined and grinded his hips against the taller man's pale digits. Finally withdrawing, he postioned himself and waited. The shorter man began to shake, sweating and frustrated. The musk of sex was driving him insane.


"Please, Iori; Jesus, j-just fuck me!" Iori licked his lips and plunged, watching was the man beneath him's face contort between unimaginable pleasure and pain. He drove himself deep into the brunette, fast and hard with ghostly hands fastened to slim hips.


"Say my name..." It was ground out and hoarse as Iori panted, staring as the smaller man's back bent up and hands scratched at his shoulders. Kyo was heaving, eye's half lidded and thick with lust.


"Say it!" Iori moved faster.


"I-Iori! FUCK, IORI!" He laughed and flipped Kyo onto his stomach, hauling the lithe body against him by coffee colored hair. Kyo continued to pant his name as bit down on the fighter's neck. Hard. The sweet taste in his mouth made his head spin as he sucked viciously at the oozing mark. He didn't want Kyo to remember his own name by the end of it.


"I-Iori..." His name was like a mantra spilling from supple coral lips and he shoved Kyo down, fingers still twisted in sweet smelling strands. He ran his free hand down the expanse of Kyo's broad back, nails leaving bright ribbons of pink.


He leaned over his moaning pet and nipped at the line of his spinal cord, still pumping his cock in and out of the brunette's tight little ass. The sound of the headboard slamming ruthelessly against the wall was almost as satisfying as the sinfully constritive passage he was buried in.


With a hoarse scream, Kyo came, seed spilling on his blue sheets and Iori followed, finding it to much of a sensory overload. Still breathing heavily, the brunette collasped and Iori fell beside him, satiated. Turning his exhausted, spent body, he curled up against his love and fell into a deep slumber, not even thinking about what the morning would bring. Iori buried his nose into soft locks, murming a triumphant but incomprehensiable sound before drifting off as well.