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I Hate the Way You Love	By : tarredglittered Category: +G to L > Heat Guy J Views: 1519 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Heat Guy J, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-I Hate the Way You Love
- 1
Title: I Hate the Way You Love

Fandom: Heat Guy J, Daisuke/Clair

Author: K M B

Rating: NC17

Warnings: implied incest, implied rape

Summary: Clair tries out his own brand of justice; it�s a good thing Daisuke�s there to save him.

Soundtrack: No Wow, The Kills; Because of the Times, Kings of Leon

A/N: Written for the Obscure Fandom Challenge at yaoi_challenge on Livejournal.

I burst into the room expecting a gunfight, or at the very least, a fight of some kind. What I got instead was complete and total silence, and then a muffled, extremely indignant, "Mmmph!"
Scanning the room, I couldn�t help the curl to one side of my mouth as I took in its only occupant. Long, straight black hair, bangs� and large, purple eyes. "Why, hello, Clair Leonelli. You look awfully pretty tonight."
Clair was the slap-and-tickle kind, the type I wasn�t usually into. That fact alone was a bone of contention between us on more than one occasion; often, Clair liked to say that if I wasn�t half as pretty as I was, he would have kicked me to the curb long ago. Funny how he never says things like that when I�m buried hilt-deep in him, rutting with him like a couple animals. And yes, Boma comes to mind quite clearly�for both of us�with that analogy.
But the way he was all trussed up and so pretty in that dress, those booted heels, gagged and strapped so nicely to that chair�well, it was definitely making a guy reconsider his threshold on kink.
"What, were you thinking of becoming a vigilante?" I asked as I moved forward to cut his ankles free from the legs of the plush armchair. "Leave the policework to the pros. Thank something you�re okay." I had to be careful peeling off the band of silver duct tape that covered his mouth, lest I caught it on his lipring, which I could see the indention of. I didn�t want to hurt him anymore than Clair had been, an angry purple bruise decorating his cheekbone already telling stories. Squatting to untie his wrists, I had to resort to cutting those bonds as well, slicing carefully so as not to slit one of Clair�s delicate wrists during the process. There were red welts on his skin, marks I couldn�t help but soothe with my thumb. Okay, and maybe I pressed a kiss to them as well.
Clair was silent as I untied him, but once he was free and I had stepped back, he rose up like a whirlwind and kicked the chair over; not an easy feat, I would imagine, in four-inch heels. Turning back around he glared at me, hands on his hips, striking a serious pose. I took the opportunity to give him a whistle. "Wow. You look hot as a chick."
"Shut up," he bit out, tossing the long, poker-straight hair back as if he had dealt with it all his life. "I was going undercover to try and get at that asshole. And instead�" Clair broke off, looking away from me, his normally pouty mouth set in an angry line.
The �asshole� he was referring to was Aventi, a glorified pimp who had moved into the city not even a month ago. He specialized in high-class girls, taking runaways and other assorted �forgotten� women and turning them into what one informant called �your wildest dreams actualized.� It sounded a little too good to be true, to be honest, but since prostitution was legalized in Judoh there really wasn�t much the city could do about it. Rumor had it he was trying to work his way into becoming Judoh�s Vampire. It was a sore spot for Aventi, I guess, that the position had already been filled. I supposed Clair had heard the same rumor and was trying to take out the competition before the competition got him instead.
"By yourself?" I rubbed at my forehead, already feeling a headache starting to form.
"I had to!" he shouted, incensed, making me wince and want to cover his loud mouth. "How else was I going to get in here! He was looking for women, and something tells me he wouldn�t have gone for ones that had a coterie of bodyguards hiding in the shadows next to them!"
Okay, screw wanting, I did put a hand over his mouth. "Jeez, will you be quiet for a freaking second? I�m trying to rescue you, not announce to the rest of the building that I�m he�ouch!" The fucker bit my hand; not where I usually liked to be bitten, that was for damn sure. "Will you quit that already! I told you I�m not into rough sex!"
"That�s what you get for not listening to me, Daisuke Aurora. Now," he stalked toward the door, hips swinging to make any lady (of the night) proud, "let�s get this rescue mission over with. Where�s your pseudo-grandpa anyway?"
"Pseudo�you mean J?" That had to be one of the more interesting descriptions I�d heard for J. "I, uh� he didn�t come." Lame.
Clair did nothing but give me a long look, as if I had done something interesting, before sighing through his nose. "Fine. Let�s get out of here, then."
--
Outside the coast was clear, or at least as clear as I could discern in a crowd in downtown Judoh at two o�clock on a Saturday morning. No one was paying us much attention, partly because when Clair committed himself to something, he committed fully; he really did look like a woman. A trampy woman, but a woman nevertheless. No one was looking at him as if he didn�t fit within his or her cookie-cutter idea of what people should look like. I steered him toward my motorbike with a hand on his lower back, a few more seasoned women giving us winks and knowing smiles and I had more than an idea of what was going through their minds. It was only when Clair went to grab my hand that I pulled away.
"What?"
I shook my head minutely, still surveying the crowd. I can�t help that I�m constantly on my guard, even if I don�t really look like I am. "Don�t do that," I said lowly.
Clair glared at me, indignant. "I�m all dressed up as a woman and we don�t even get to act like lovers? What the hell kind of deal is that?"
"It�s so you won�t be all over me. Hookers hardly ever adore their johns."
Clair looked at me scathingly for a moment, an appraisal in his eyes as we approached where I had parked my bike, well out of harm�s way and in a spot that wouldn�t create suspicion. "I do not look like a hooker."
I rolled my eyes as I grabbed my helmet and goggles, then, because he seemed to be expecting it, turned to give him another once-over. "If that dress was two centimeters shorter, the androgyny would definitely be lost."
"Bitch."
Straddling the bike, I looked pointedly at the sidecar. "I don�t have an extra helmet so I�ll just have to be extra-careful. Get in." Though it sounded like a command, Clair knew better, and the shift of his slight weight from one leg to the other proved that.
"I am not riding in that," he scoffed.
"So, are you wanting to be rescued or not? Because I only knocked those guys out; they�ll be waking up faster than you can walk out of here."
Clair�s glares are professional grade, they really are. Especially when he folds his arms over his chest� er, breasts, at least in this instance. I was halfway considering opening my mouth to ask just what he�d stuffed his bra with when he hitched that short, short skirt up even higher and swung one leg behind me, straddling the bike. "If I�m playing the part of the bitch tonight, I might as well take the bitch seat, no?" he more or less purred in my ear (Clair was good at that) as he slid his hands along my abdomen and pressed himself against me. His breasts felt soft, close to the real thing. That both piqued my curiosity and made me shudder. Call me a chauvinist but for some reason, I didn�t like the thought of my male lover with girl bits.
However, with Clair�s fingers idly playing with my belt buckle, I didn�t mind the seating arrangement at all. Shrugging, I revved the engine and took off like a shot, not so much to show off but moreso because I wasn�t exactly sure how much time we had to get Clair to safety before anyone important became conscious enough to realize that he was gone.
"So just where do you plan on taking me, my little hero?" Clair purred into my ear. His hands really were doing double-time on my midsection, his fingers having wriggled their way into the waistband of my pants. I heard a delighted mewl escape his lips as he realized I was going commando, before they were pressed against the base of my neck, the metal of his lipring hard against the bones of my spine.
"I was figuring I�d take you to the last place anyone would think of looking for you: my place." It made sense, though, didn�t it? I mean, why would the Vampire of Judoh deign a penthouse apartment in the slums of the city worthy of his presence? "And don�t do that," I said as an afterthought, slapping his hands away as I tried to concentrate on navigating the busy streets and getting us to our destination in one piece. I had an idea of what Giobanni would have in store for me if I dimmed his moonlight.
"Don�t do what?" Clair asked innocently as his hands ventured lower. Even elbowing him in the ribs didn�t deter the kid, if anything it only spurred him onward, leaning closer and touching his tongue to my neck. "You always look so hot on this thing."
A smirk edged its way onto my lips. "Don�t I know it." I heard a familiar, lilting giggle before sharp little teeth sunk their way into the back of my neck as his hands moved from my waist to my shoulders. "Hey!" I swerved the bike just a little.
"Cocky son of a bitch, aren�t you?"
The smirk was gone. "Leave my mother out of this."
A pause, then: "As you wish."
I knew something was up. Clair usually didn�t acquiesce so easily, so when I felt a majority of his weight swing to one side and I could suddenly see him out of my right peripheral, I wasn�t too surprised. "What are you doing?"
Clair pressed in and landed a kewpie kiss to my cheekbone. "The back half of you just isn�t as much fun as the front, so I�m switching positions."
"You�re what?" I managed to ask before I had to catch and right him as he somehow slid his way into my lap, straddling me and severely limiting my view of the highway. Clair�s stunt nearly veered us into a semi, but I was able to swerve in the nick of time, my insane lover�s laughter tinkling in my ear as he clung to me like a child would a parent. His wild purple bangs flapped in my face, streaming past his cheeks and it was then that I noticed he no longer had the wig. "What happened to the hair?"
"Flew off when you took off like someone on fire in that parking lot," Clair said with a cute bite to his lipring, his way of shrugging. "I guess it just couldn�t keep up."
"Aww, that�s too bad," I said with a grin, half my attention on the road, half on him. "You actually looked pretty cute with all that long hair."
Clair�s lids lowered over his intoxicating (or is that intoxicated?) purple eyes. "Mmm, I know. And you�d look better if you just�" Clair�s fingers were at my head, and suddenly the wind was whipping at my hair, too, as my helmet was removed.
"Hey!" I seemed to be repeating myself a lot tonight. "What the hell!?"
Laughing that shrill laugh again, Clair flung my helmet and goggles behind us, and I didn�t get a chance to turn and watch them hit the pavement before Clair�s hands were on the sides of my face, his mouth following. The kiss was fast, harsh, biting; it was everything I found exciting about Clair all rolled up into one solitary action. I could feel him against me, wanting and ready, the skirt of his dress barely stretched across our laps as his bare thighs hugged mine so nicely. Shit, this boy could turn me on.
Shots rang out behind us, ending our little make-out session and I suddenly remembered what I was supposed to be doing. Glancing in my sideview, I caught a glimpse of a stark black sedan gaining on us fast, two men hanging out the side with shiny, matching guns. "Dammit! They caught on quick, didn�t they?"
Clair, completely disregarding his own safety, craned his neck to see beyond me. A bullet pinged off the side of the bike, but he didn�t seem to really care. "This thing can travel on more than just pavement, right?" he asked, an edge of breathy anticipation in his voice.
"Uh-huh."
"The canal bridge is just ahead," he said casually, but I knew if I could have seen his face just then, his eyes alone would have scared me, that slightly-off gleam that meant he had a batch of fireworks in his pocket, just for you.
"Got it." At the right moment, I punched at the Transform button with my left fist and steered us off the curb with my right, the bike changing into an overgrown waterski as we became airborne. Falling about thirty meters down, we hit the water at top speed. The screech of tires sounded over the rush of waves underneath us, and I had a moment to look behind and see three very angry men get out of that expensive, but non-waterproof, car and aim their guns at us. A few shots were heard, but we were already away and around the bend. They couldn�t do anything. I smirked; and then I nearly rolled us into the canal as an explosion went off right where that car had been. "Clair, what did you do!?"
Those luminous purple eyes shifted onto me, and Clair smiled in that broken-china-doll way that only he could perfect. "Just a bit of a present for my captor. Something to remember me by." His smile disappeared at the disapproving frown on my face. "Don�t worry, they had plenty of time to get away. I�m sure they�re all just fine, running home to their owner with their tails between their legs," he cooed, twisting a finger into my hair as he bent and nuzzled the side of my face.
--
"So this is where you live, hmm?" Clair traced the Che Guevara poster hanging above my bed with two painted-nail fingers, the color the same as his eyes, or very nearly.
"Now you see why I never brought you back here before."
I watched Clair�s eyes as they flitted around my one-room condo, taking in whatever there was to see, which wasn�t much. "Are you ashamed of your dwelling?"
I shrugged, one-armed as I fell onto the unmade bed and opened a magazine. "No."
Clair tugged the mag away from me, gently, attention-seeking. I looked up into his face, watched one well-groomed eyebrow arch. "Then why have I not been here before?" he asked as he straddled my prone body, sitting back on the cradle of my hips, his legs folded underneath him. I could see the black panties he had chosen to wear under his skirt. They looked soft to the touch, like satin.
I touched the side of his face, where the pale stopped and the mottled purple began. "Does it hurt?"
"Nice tactical avoidance of my question, Daisuke. Soften the enemy up and maybe they�ll simply forget what they asked you. Do they teach that in cop school?"
"Keep that up and I won�t answer any of your questions," I replied with a smirk, one that I found kissed off of my face as Clair leant down, pinning my hands to the mattress. I opened my mouth to deepen it, to get it to where we had so abruptly left off at on the ride over, but Clair was having none of it. Licking my bottom lip in apology and lingering over the now almost permanent indentation that his lipring seemed to leave, he sat back. I took the opportunity to grasp one of his wrists, and inspected the rawness of it. "What happened tonight?" What happened to you?

Clair sighed, not looking at me, his eyes hooded. "Everything went according to plan. I got picked up, he liked me. A little too much." The glee in his breathless voice was palpable. "Then he didn�t." A pout. "I couldn�t understand why. I�m pretty enough, right Daisuke?" Those poison-colored eyes widened, his pupils dilating as he finally faced me. "I�m good enough, right?" He leaned forward and tried to kiss me, but I held him away. "Daisuke, please!"
"How did this," I touched his bruised cheek, "happen?" Yeah, so I�m concerned.
Clair pulled away from my touch with a toss of his head, turning it into something sexy, something teasing and deliberate. "It doesn�t matter, does it? I�m here and I�m�" He lowered his mouth back to mine, "horny."
Not that I was really set to complain, but�"Here? Now? After what just happened?"
His eyes flashed on mine for a moment of utter clarity, the broken and hopeless look in them heartbreaking before he lowered his head onto my chest, hugging me. "I�m not pretty enough, am I?" he asked wildly, his voice gaining an eerie singsong quality. "Not good enough�. Never good enough."
This was scaring me. I touched him tentatively, trying to bring his chin up so I could see his face. "Clair?"
What I got instead was a violent, needy kiss, his lips pushed into mine with a force I didn�t know they could muster. It was utterly dominating, but yet, it was submissive, too. I could feel something splash against my face and I pushed him away to find tears running down his face. "Clair, wha�?"
"Please!" he cried out, and his voice sounded raw, like someone had ground it into glass. He the collar of his dress and yanked it down on one side, ripping it and exposing the black bra underneath, the small little bean bags that made up his breasts falling out. "Please, Daisuke, tell me you want me, that I�m good enough. I gotta�" He leant down, pressed his slack-jawed mouth to mine in a pantomime of a kiss. "Please� please�" It was coming out of him like some sort of sick mantra. "Make me feel pretty�"
I sobbed into his mouth, covered up by the mewling sounds he was making low in his throat. I didn�t want to do this, my heart didn�t, not when he was this way, but my body couldn�t help what he was doing to it. He was manipulating it expertly with his hands and his own body, doing away with our clothes without me noticing at first, pressing against me and kissing me and loving me in that broken-doll way of his, the only way Clair knew how.
Once we were naked, I was more than hard and ready for Clair, his head dropping to my lap as his kewpie lips kissed the crown of my cock before taking me in his mouth and holding me there gently. I wanted to watch him but my head fell back; the things he was doing with his tongue were just too good for me not to writhe a little under him, one hand finding its way to his hair so I could tangle in the thick softness, cradle his head and guide him. Oh fuck, he made me lose control in so many different ways. I could never say no to him, not ever.
He brought me to brink, like he always did, and then held me there as he straddled my hips. He pushed himself down with no preparation, like he always did, only the slickness of his saliva on my cock as lubrication. And he looked so crazy as he started riding me like some sort of strapping young buck, that bareback rocking motion so hypnotic when coupled with those wicked poison eyes as they stared glassily down at me. The hands on my chest had palms that dug in, nails that left red trails and�after them�light pink scratches, the wrists too delicate-looking to be as strong as they obviously were because they held him up so perfectly. Clair was pure poetry above me, not a single explicit word out of mouth, made all the more vulgar for the absence. "I�m pretty now, aren�t I Daisuke? Sexy� beautiful�" he said in gasping, choking tones like a murder before it has occurred, "I�m good enough�" and he can�t finish because finally the torture was as exquisite for him as it was for me. He rode hard, those razorblade hips rocking, rocking, that fatalistic glint in his eyes as they slid closed so slowly, so like Clair in everything he does, milking me for all that I was worth as I writhed underneath him, lost on him, gone on him. Consumed by him. I was close�so close it ached�to spilling in him, when�
"Love me�" Clair murmured as he ran hands down his own chest, torso. I froze, staring, my breath caught in my throat. No matter what the two of us did, neither one ever mentioned anything about love, even if we did feel it. It simply wasn�t a safe topic. And now, above me with his face painted in more ways than one, pistoning up and down on me and sobbing each time he bottomed out like it hurt but he needed more, was Clair�?
"I love you� Papa� Love me�."
Angry tears sprang to my eyes as I finally remembered to breathe. So that was it; no confession, but a deep-seated memory of the worst kind had caused those words to form in his mouth. I grabbed at his hands to still him. "Clair. Clair!" Those purple eyes opened, locked onto mine. Clair stopped bouncing up and down and instead held me fully inside himself. He looked uncertain.
"Clair, it�s me." I reached up and palmed the side of his face, the one not prettily purple from a backhand or two. "Clair, stay with me, okay?"
"Daisuke�" he whispered, and then his mouth curled into a smile. Not one of those, the sick kind, the ones that made my stomach clench, but a real one. He leant down, curling himself down onto me, and I embraced him tightly. He started again, the friction between us sweet for once instead of depraved. I was too close, though, and spilled after three thrusts.
"It�s okay, Daisuke� let me just�" and Clair arched above me, pulling away as he rode my deflating dick once more, twice, and then came above me, his own cock spasming as it emptied out onto my belly. He collapsed back onto me, sighing, and I held him close, wrapping my arms tightly about him and pressing kiss after kiss to his temple. The tears that had threatened finally sprang free, and for a moment I let them run down my face unchecked as I sobbed out just how fucked the world was, that it could create someone as evil as Clair Leonelli�s father. I had known the man was scum, but I had not known he was capable of this. The horror of it all was too much.
After discreetly wiping my face with my fingers I pulled out, with a weak cry of protest from Clair, and rolled us over. Clair accepted me on top of him without comment, his legs falling open to let me rest between them like a well-loved chapter in a book. I kissed Clair�s face over and over, not saying the words but feeling them more intensely than I ever had. And I knew it wasn�t just the post-orgasmic bliss that made me feel that way; I loved Clair Leonelli. And there was no way in hell I was going to tell him that.
--
I woke up the next morning to the sun shining brightly right in my face and the space next to me cold where a warm body should have been lying. Blinking into the sunlight, I realized my balcony doors were opened, and someone was leaning against one of them, coffee cup in hand and wearing my best shirt. That someone, I saw with a smile, was Clair. "Hey," I said; well, rather I mumbled. It was still early for me.
Clair turned and looked over at me, the sun catching the dark periwinkle of his bangs and turning them lavender for a moment. "Ah, he finally wakes." He giggled. "The great Daisuke Aurora snores, were you aware?"
I yawned, leaning back and patting the space next to me, an invitation Clair decided was good enough to take me up on. Grinning a sleepy, happy grin simply for the fact that he was still there, I laid my head in his lap and let him play with my hair, unruly as it was in the morning. Looking up at him, I noticed that the bruise on his face had added a new color, a sickly looking green, which I suppose meant it was healing. I reached up and brushed it with the back of a finger. "You okay?"
Clair looked away as he nodded. I supposed it never would be completely okay. "Your little angel-girl called earlier; that�s what woke me. She sounded rather worried. Had quite a few things to tell me."
I had to search my brain for a moment to figure out just whom he was referring to. "Kyoko?" Clair nodded. Uh-oh. "Ahhh�" I couldn�t think of a way to diffuse the situation before it blew up in my face quick enough.
"You weren�t sent out to find me, were you?" Dammit, he�s quick. "That�s why your android wasn�t with you, because it wasn�t an official mission. Daisuke." His tone was full of reproach, which sounded odd coming from the mouth of Judoh�s Vampire.
"What?" I responded, more caustically than I intended. "Can I help if I�"
Clair, way quicker than I was at ten o�clock in the morning, cocked an eyebrow at me. "Hmm? If you what?"
"Nevermind," I mumbled, not able to look him in the eye.
Clair sighed loudly, and I knew that if I glanced over he would also be rolling his eyes. "It�s okay, Daisuke. I do, too."
"You� what?" Oh yeah. I�m a blond.
Leaning over and giving me a quick kiss before getting up, Clair said, "I made coffee, or at least some sort of coffee-like substance. I�m not used to doing things like this, you know, so don�t blame me if it isn�t up to your standards."
"Clair, wait�"
"Would you rather I just told you I hated you?"
I fell back, looking up at Clair. My lover. I shook my head, smiling in spite of myself. "No."
"Then shut up."
God, I loved him.
- 1
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I Hate the Way You Love