Fan Fiction ❯ Phoenix Rising ❯ ‘Dreams Sometimes Come True...’ ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Phoenix Rising

Chapter One: `Dreams Sometimes Come True...'

Author: Hentai

Warnings: This is PURE yaoi!! Lots of intended m/m stuffs and shounen-ai! Also, drug use, violence and sex!!

Disclaimer: None. All characters are my original creations.

Notes: If you want to flame, please refrain. I can stand constructive criticism, but blatant bashing is uncalled for. Arigato!! ^_^ <> denotes characters thoughts.

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He had had the same dream every night for a few months. In this dream, he was at Grafitti, his favorite dance club. Glow sticks in each hand, Phoenix is on the dance floor, eyes closed, moving to the beat of the music.

Suddenly he is knocked off balance by the weight of someone's body colliding with his. Opening his eyes, he catches his balance and turns to see what is going on. He is not angry, just curious.

As he turns, in the white flashes of the strobe light, he catches a glimpse of a slender yet muscular back, a serpentine Chinese dragon winding across the shoulder blades and up across one shoulder. In the next flash, he sees the face belonging to the young man as he turns to look over his shoulder. Stark white bangs with blue streaks frame a face slightly bruised from brawling. He grins wickedly, tongue darting from his mouth to lick his lips, turns again and in the next flash is gone.

Phoenix had awoken every night from this dream covered in sweat, breathing heavily, but tonight had awoken aroused. Sitting up in bed, he wiped the sweat from his eyes and reached between his legs to adjust himself, wincing. He was so aroused it was almost painful. Lifting his knees up, he rested his forearms on them, chin lowered to his chest.

He thought again about the dream. A flash of the dragon winding across a muscular back flashed through his mind, he moaned as his erection throbbed. He was reminded again of his predicament. Reaching between his legs, he wrapped his fingers firmly around himself and slowly began to stroke himself. He moaned loudly as visions from his dream played through his mind, teasing him.

His thoughts dwell on the face of the young man. Short spikey white hair streaked in blue, long bangs framing high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes. Dark, arched eyebrows, eyes narrowed, burrowing into him, looking into his very soul. Throwing his head back and moaning loudly, a picture of a pink tongue darting out over full red lips curved into a wicked smile played across his mind and teased him.

Falling back in his bed, his hips began to move with his hand. His body began to buzz and tense. He came, hot cum flowing over his fingers and settling in a pool on his flat abdomen. As he drifted back to sleep, he saw the dragon again, winding itself possesivly around the shoulder of his dream man.

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Phoenix awoke the next morning to the sound of his alarm. He lay there for a few moments, the dream running playfully through his mind like phantom images. In the light of morning, it felt strange. He had always been curious about what it would be like to be with a man, but had never been so aroused at the thought before. Sighing, he got up and went through his morning routine. Shower, bowl of cereal, get dressed, check email, work. He went through this routine everyday, and nothing ever changed. He found it boring yet comfortable. It wasn't until he went to Graffiti at night that he felt truly alive.

At Graffiti it didn't matter who he was or what he did for a living. There, he was just Phoenix, the tall guy with the green eyes and red, yellow and orange hair. "Bright as flames", they say. On the dance floor, under the lights, he was free to just be himself. He felt he didn't have any secrets to hide, the music knew them all, the lights carried them away into the never ending abyss of darkness. He knew everyone there also. All the regulars, he had been going there almost every night for four years, ever since he was fifteen.

Granted, the faces had changed over the years, most of them had been busted or OD'd. He was lucky in that regard, because of who his father had been, the cops let him alone. Hell, they even tried to help him out most of the time. He just brushed them off and did his time like everyone else. <Nothing special about me>, he'd think as he drifted away on his trips.

He didn't go to Graffiti for the people, he went for the drugs and the music. Occasionally, he would end up at some girls house, banging away at her meaninglessly, but he was never there when the sun rose the next morning. He never returned to the same girl either. He preferred to wake up in his own bed. He never woke up next to anyone, never brought anyone home with him. He felt empty, no feeling at all towards women. Sure, he got off from fucking them, but then it was still empty. Sometimes he felt that he slept with women only because it was what he was supposed to do. He liked women, but it always lacked something for him.

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Phoenix walked up to the end of the line at Graffiti's. It seemed the line was longer than usual. There always were kids trying to get in, most underage and with fake ID's. When Phoenix had first started coming to Graffiti, they didn't have a liquor license. He was able to get in with no problem. The club had also grown in popularity since then. Its beginning clientele of about 150 had turned into the thousands the four years that he had been coming.

He looked around at the people standing in line. They were dressed in anything from normal raver gear to slacks and ties. Everyone knew the best drugs were here, luckily though, the cops only raided the place once a year. Just to get their quotas. Otherwise, they left it alone, hell, this is where they got their drugs too. Phoenix was surprised yet happy that Graffiti hadn't been shut down. This was his place. He would buy it if he had to keep it running.

Kiwi, the bouncer at the door was the only other original besides the owner. He noticed Phoenix and waved him up to the front of the line. Over the `boos' and `No fair's, Kiwi said:

"Come on man, you know better than that Phoenix." He grinned widely as he opened the door for Phoenix.

"Thanks man," Phoenix said as he smiled back and ducked inside.

Graffiti was an old converted warehouse. When you first entered through the main entrance, you walked into a large room that spanned half the width of the building. This room was filled with couches and coffee tables. At one end, there was a bar, on the other, a floor to ceiling tropical fish tank. Its clear blue waters reflected the lights from the dance floor and made the fish change colors. On the other side of the fish tank, but not accessible from this room were more couches and chairs for the dancers. This area was called the Pit. This is were the dealers hung out and did business. This is also where Phoenix was headed. He walked through the double doors that led to the dance floor.

Walking towards the Pit, he scanned the area for Cap, his dealer. He refused to give anyone else his business. He and Cap had known each other since kindergarten. Cap was the only one here at Graffiti that knew Phoenix's real name and who he was, but he never said a word.

"Phoenix!" He turned towards the voice and nodded, walking up to Cap. The young man had taken to shaving his hair short lately, it made him look tougher, almost mean, though Phoenix knew better of Cap.

"How's it going Capsule?"

"Pretty good. So what will it be tonight Phoenix?" Cap was reaching into his jeans pocket as he said this. He sat down, pointing to a spot next to him on the couch. Sitting on the edge of the cushion, he laid an assortment of pills, tabs and blotters on the couch. Phoenix sat down and eyed the selection. "I've got everything you want." Cap said with a stoned smile.

"Give me two of those," Phoenix said setting a $20 on the cushion.

"Nice choice Phoenix, enjoy yourself!" Cap set the two pill like objects in Phoenix's hand and gathered and pocketed the rest along with the money in one fluid motion. Phoenix got up without another word and walked over to the bar.

"Hey Phoenix. Here ya go." The bartender handed him a shot glass of Tequila and two glow sticks. Phoenix downed the pills with the shot, nodded his thanks to the bartender and grabbed the glow sticks. He headed out onto the dance floor.

The strobe lights, along with the colored lights, always gave the room a surreal feeling. Phoenix always danced with his eyes closed, preferring to feel the music rather than hear it. He started to move slowly at first, then gradually moving up to the beat of the music. Behind his eyelids he could see the flash of the lights. Eventually, the flashes slowed down, leaving shadow impressions and figures on his mind.

When he danced, he felt like he was all alone. Like he had the whole club to himself, just him and the music. Behind his eyelids, the colored lights left bright streaks through the darkness. They slowly faded from neon to damp looking impressions on his mind. The colors eventually bled and dripped together then faded to black. Any and all thoughts disappeared from his mind. The base of the music echoed through his head.

He suddenly had the sensation of falling and instinctively grabbed for something. His fingertips caught something firm and he dug in with his nails. Something grabbed his hands suddenly and his eyes flew open. <That was too real!!> he thought. His eyes did not immediately register what they saw. The flashes of light were eerily prolonged, leaving images like photographs that burned in his head.

After a few moments, he realized he was holding on to someone, and they in turn were holding onto his hands. He then realized he was holding onto this persons hips, their ass directly in front of his face. He was still very high, so the possible repercussions of this situation did not register immediately on his clouded mind. Suddenly, it did. He looked up sharply and was stunned to silence. Above him was the dragon from his dream. His sudden erection actually made him blush as memories of the face and eyes in his dream flooded back to him.

<I can't believe this,> he thought. The hands tightened on his, the raver turned to look at him, smiling. Phoenix stopped breathing, his fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of the young man before him. Suddenly, Kiwi was there, his fist connecting with the young mans face. He was thrown backwards, Phoenix going with him. They ended up in a heap on the floor, young man on top of Phoenix.

Somewhere in his clouded mind, Phoenix had an insane fear that the other could feel his erection. The thought was funny to him as he blushed again and laughed out loud. His laugh was hoarse and deep, nervous.

"What are you laughing at?" The guy said as he stood up, then turned to punch Kiwi in the gut. He couldn't believe this! The man from his dream was here fighting with Kiwi! Phoenix watched as the muscles under the mans skin rippled and flexed with each swing. The dragon on his back seemed to crawl and roar as he fought Kiwi. He shook his head, feeling the room start to spin a little as he did so. Phoenix watched them fight for a few moments more then shouted:

"Wait! Kiwi-"what was he doing? "Kiwi! He's with me!" Kiwi stopped in mid-swing and looked from Phoenix to the other young man.

"All right Phoenix, whatever you say," and with that Kiwi turned and walked away.

Phoenix stayed on the floor, his mind just registering what his mouth had done, trying to catch his breath. He thanked whatever higher power there was that he had worn baggy pants tonight. A hand appeared before his face. He looked up. In the flashes of the strobe light he saw the white hair streaked in blue, arched eyebrows and OH!! That smile!! He shifted uncomfortably. The hand reached down and grabbed his, hoisting him to his feet.

"You all right man?"

"Umm, yeah, its all good." Phoenix stammered.

"Thanks for the help," he laughed. "I always seem to piss that guy off. Here, let me buy you a drink!" He slapped Phoenix on the back and led him to the bar, his hand never leaving Phoenix's back as they walked. The bartender saw Phoenix and laid out a Tequila shot, then asked White-hair what he wanted.

"The same." Turning to Phoenix, he said. "I'm called Score, how about you?"

"Phoenix." He felt like his throat was made of sandpaper. Score's touch had set his senses on fire. He felt hyper-sensitive.

"Nice to meet you Phoenix," he took his shot and leaned back on his elbows on the bar. Phoenix watched as the six-pack on his stomach stretched and tightened, his baggy pants slipped a little lower on his hips. Phoenix's eyes traced the line of muscle from above the hip bones as it narrowed in towards….He swallowed hard and took his shot.

"So. My place or yours?" Phoenix dropped the shot glass at Score's question. It bounced and skidded across the bar. Score caught it and looked Phoenix directly in the eyes.

"Uhh…umm…How do you even know if I'm into that?" Phoenix asked, tripping over his own tongue in the process.

"The nice bulge in your pants is one indication, and don't think I haven't noticed you looking at me." Score said with a smile. Phoenix felt like a deer in headlights. This was much different than picking up on or being pursued by girls. Score laughed.

"Look, I don't have a place to stay tonight, I was hoping to stay here all night, but I really don't think the bouncer will allow that after you leave." He laughed. "Look I know I owe you one, but would you mind putting me up for the night?"

Phoenix suddenly had a mental picture of Score, lying on Phoenix's bed, naked, lips parted slightly, rubbing his stomach, inviting Phoenix to lick his lips and touch his body. Phoenix licked his own lips and shifted uncomfortably. Score knew of his hard on. Phoenix had no reason to be embarrassed, but still the thoughts running through his head made him blush profusely.

"Ok, but I have a small apartment, you'll have to sleep on the floor." Phoenix said as he turned towards the exit.

"Right," Score said. With his back to him, Phoenix didn't see Score's wicked grin make its appearance once again.

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