Zoisite fumed.

He was furious; not at Kunzite-sama, who'd made amends, but at that human female -- a HUMAN, and a FEMALE! -- who'd managed to capture his lover's attention, however briefly. Not only was she a female, but she was really an ugly youma inside.

It just wasn't right, and it couldn't be borne! He must do something about it! He couldn't allow it to go unpunished! Not and look himself in the mirror. And he was too beautiful to avoid looking in the mirror. Why, he was TWICE the woman that bitch wa--

Ooh! He froze as an idea hit him. A slow, wicked smile curved his full lips. Ah! He had an idea. Not only to punish the bitch girl that had claimed his Kunzite-sama's admiration, but also to show her up!

Giggling wildly to himself, Zoisite ran to make his preparations.

Zoisite examined himself meticulously in the mirror. He'd chosen a dress in a shade of green that complimented his eyes perfectly, trimmed with a lighter tone of gold-green. It was rather loose, as he didn't want to have to add any padding, but the loveliness of his face and his upswept golden hair made up for that. He had teased his long golden curls into a cascade falling down the back of his head and over one shoulder. He was wearing a touch of eyeshadow -- not that he needed it -- and some pinkish lip gloss. He hadn't made any other changes, but he had to admit, staring at his reflection, there was no way anyone would ever think he hadn't been born a woman, unless they actually knew him.

He blinked, a little disconcerted.

Then he lost himself for a few moments in rapt contemplation of his long, dark gold lashes, which didn't need even a hint of mascara. Gods, but he was beautiful....

But he had a purpose! With one last sly smile at himself in the mirror, he warped down to Earth.

Motoki sighed and planted his chin on his fist. He couldn't *believe* he'd let Mamoru talk him into coming here! Sure, it was a nice bar, but it was a bar nonetheless, and not the sort of place he wanted to spend his evening off. Not like this. This was boring as hell.

Mamoru seemed to be having a good enough time. Flirting with every mildly attractive woman in the dark room, enjoying their reactions to his sharp good looks. Motoki sighed again. All there was for him was to get drunk. And he had to work tomorrow, so he couldn't afford to drink enough to risk a hangover.

Not that he couldn't have attracted his own share of females. His golden glow to Mamoru's dark hair and pale skin. He was quite as handsome as his friend was. But he was "engaged", and just not interested besides.

So he merely sipped his beer, nursing a small buzz and watching with detached amusement, trying to guess which of the lucky ladies Mamoru would pick to go home with. His friend's tastes seemed to vary with no warning, so there really was no telling.

Suddenly a flash of gold caught the corner of Motoki's vision, and he turned his head, carefully looking without appearing to look.

Good Lord! What was *she* doing here?

Motoki blinked, openly staring now. The slender blonde didn't look out of place to any of the other patrons milling about her, but to Motoki's eyes she stood out a mile. Not just because of the way she held herself, as though she was separate from and better than those around her. Not just because she was unusually beautiful and delicate. Not even because she looked strangely familiar, as though he had seen her before somewhere. Though he was pretty sure he'd have remembered this one....

No, there was another reason altogether that he couldn't take his gaze off of her.

He bit his lip, stifling a chuckle as Mamoru approached her and was quickly blown off. Then her gleaming emerald green eyes alighted on him, seemingly by accident. Hm? Motoki eyed her narrowly as she swayed gracefully over. Without the heels she would be a few inches shorter than he was, but as it was, they were almost eye to eye. That green dress was a bit modest for this place, but it certainly complimented her slender figure, the full skirt clinging to the slim hips and billowing about the long, shapely legs.

Motoki bit back another grin. Better to take this one carefully. Even though she looked as though she knew what she wanted, she still might spook if he was too bold. And he had no intention of losing this early in the game.

Zoisite could have crowed with glee, but he strove to hide any signs of this from his eyes and face. This could hardly be easier! Already his prey could not remove his eyes from the disguised king. So much for that girl he'd been so quick to rush into danger for.

There was a brief flash in the dark eyes that had Zoisite fearing for a moment that the human boy had pierced his careful disguise and recognized him, but he cast yet another glamouer spell over himself, and reassured himself that this Motoki-kun would never be able to see the powerful man behind the carefully crafted facade of an innocent -- or not so innocent -- young woman.

"Ano..." Zoisite was careful to pitch his voice higher than normal while not sounding fake or forced, and gazed boldly into those dark blue-green eyes, while keeping his face and body in postures of gentle submission. The human boy should be able to easily read the mixed signals and know what Zoisite really wanted. Or what he was feigning to want. Not that this Motoki-kun wasn't very attractive, but Zoisite had his Kunzite-sama.

"Hai?" One dark-gold brow rose. The boy smiled. It looked open and fairly innocent, but Zoisite experienced a momentary pang of... fear? Of unease. There was something hiding behind those hooded eyes, lurking behind the soft face. Zoisite was a predator by nature, and he usually recognized another such.

But now he shrugged off the tingling in the hairs at the nape of his neck. This was a silly human boy, who was besotted with an ugly human female. What sort of threat could he possibly be?

"I was wondering if you could help me," he continued, his voice breathy. He fluttered his thick lashes and tried to put a sweet, helpless expression on his face.

"Nanii?"

"Well, you see... I.... Well, it's rather.... Well, please, could you come outside so I can show you?" Zoisite made a good show of flustered innocent seduction. For some reason he found he did not have to fake the pink blush coloring his cheeks. There was something about the way this human was looking at him, something that made him feel warm and cold at once. He was used to desire, but not when it was accompanied by something indefinable that filled him with fear, and he didn't know how to react. He was quickly coming to feel as flustered as he was acting.

Motoki cocked his head, then put down his nearly-full glass. "Sure, why not." He shrugged and grabbed his jacket, moving to follow Zoisite from the bar.

"Oy, Motoki-kun, where you going?" asked Mamoru, staring at his friend in confusion. His eyes narrowed at the wicked gleam he could detect in Motoki's gaze. "What about Reika-san?" he whispered loudly, leaning toward Motoki.

Motoki sighed and pushed Mamoru back into the arms of a shapely red-head in tight black leather. His friend was drunk again, and simply reeked of booze. It was slightly nauseating, really. "Never mind, Mamo-chan. Have fun, neh?"

"Oh, he will," purred the woman, running a long red nail down Mamoru's chest.

Motoki shook his head, trying to hide his look of distaste, and strode after the slim blonde, who had paused to wait for him, still looking slightly flushed. Here was something much more appetizing,to his mind. He bit his lip sharply to keep a nasty smirk off his face. This pretty young thing had no idea what he had in mind for the rest of the evening.

Which was just as well, or he'd no doubt lose his prey entirely.

Zoisite did some quick calculations as they exited the bar. The street outside was a busy one. To avoid Beryl's wrath, he'd have to wait 'til they were out of sight to act. He was hoping to pull this off without his ruler even knowing, which meant no witnesses. After all, Beryl had spies everywhere, even among the lowly humans.

"This way, please?" he requested meekly, moving along parallel to the bar, then to the entrance of the alley running alongside it. The human boy followed easily enough. Zoisite could almost taste his victory.

The alley was dark, all sounds of the street muted. Zoisite suddenly felt small and afraid. Angry at himself for this reaction, he moved to turn and spring his trap.

Then there was a sudden sharp blow to the back of his head, and the dim city sounds faded to silence as the world dropped into blackness.

Motoki caught the light form easily, before the pretty green dress could be soiled on the dirty pavement. Golden curls tumbled about the pale, senseless face as he hefted the limp body carefully and strode toward the car he'd parked further down the alley, just in case.

Looked as though this was going to be an interesting night after all.

to be continued....

Zoisite stifled a moan as he slowly regained consciousness. What the hell had happened? Why did his head hurt so badly? It was a dull throb, just at the base of his skull, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. "Ite...."

As he became more aware of the reality surrounding him, he also took note that his wrists were extremely sore. In fact, his arms hurt, badly. He dragged his eyes open and looked around wildly.

He was in a cheerful looking room, sparsely furnished, with a dresser of rich wood, thick crimson curtains covering the windows, two closed doors, some posters on the walls, a desk and chair, and the bed upon which he was propped. The place was cluttered with rumpled clothing, tattered books, soiled mugs, more miscellaneous junk than Zoisite could catalog.

Giving up on the room, he turned his attention to himself. His hands were tied over his head to the metal bedpost, the thick cord binding them pulled tight. Okay, that explained both the pain in his wrists, and his aching arms, if he'd been stuck in this position for any amount of time.

But what explained the reason for his being here at all? Tied up? He, Zoisite, master of the Dark power, tied up like some common animal? How had this happened? Who had dared--?

Then he remembered. The bar. The boy. No! He couldn't have! He wouldn't have!

He had. Zoisite stared, wide-eyed with incredulous shock, as the golden-haired young man strode in through one of the doors.

"Ah! You're awake!" he remarked cheerfully.

Zoisite just stared, momentarily incapable of forming words, or even clear thoughts. Motoki-kun was still wearing the jeans from the bar, but he'd removed the black button-up shirt, and was bare-chested. A small silver cross on a thin chain rested at the juncture of his collarbones, but otherwise his chest and upper stomach were exposed in a smooth expanse of golden-toned muscles.

"I'd offer you something to drink," Motoki continued, smiling brightly as he closed the door behind himself and crossed the room to the dresser, "But then I'd have to untie your hands, and I really feel that would be a bad idea just now." He opened the top drawer and pulled out a small black box. "However, I believe I can do something about the headache I'm sure you're suffering from at the moment."

Zoisite worked his jaw a few times, but he just couldn't bring anything rational to his mind, much less his mouth. What in the darkest HELL was going on here?!

Motoki hummed softly to himself as he sat on the mattress next to Zoisite and placed the box carefully on his lap. Zoisite just watched silently as the boy popped the latches and opened the box. His slanted green eyes grew huge as Motoki pulled out a small vial of clear liquid, and... a syringe?!

"What are you--?" he gasped, but Motoki just ignored him as he prepared the needle with expert skill.

"Just hang on." Motoki turned toward him and swabbed a patch of skin on the inside of Zoisite's thigh. Zoisite was frozen in shock as the sharp metal pricked, and the unknown liquid flowed into his veins.

"What...?" he tried again, as Motoki turned away once more, cleaning and replacing the implements before standing and tucking the box back into the drawer. He tried to rouse the anger to blast the boy with a petal-storm attack, as he should have done the moment Motoki had walked in the door, but his head was beginning to swim in a frightening manner, and a warmth was spreading through his chest, making its way slowly through all of his body, turning his arms and legs to jelly and clouding his brain. "What...?"

Motoki returned to the bed, sitting closer to Zoisite this time and leaning forward to look closely at the king's rapidly dilating pupils. "Is your headache gone yet?" he asked solicitously, his voice warm, his eyes kind.

Zoisite blinked, having trouble concentrating on the question. His head was swimming, and he felt as though he was swaying, even though he was pretty sure he was lying firmly against the pillows piled behind him. But, yes, his headache was gone.

"H-hai..." he breathed, trying to remember why he should hate the handsome young man peering into his eyes. The soft face split into a friendly smile.

"Well, then we'd best untie your arms, so they can stop hurting too, neh?"

Zoisite frowned. His arms *did* still hurt, quite a bit. He bit his lip as gentle hands undid the bonds, then whimpered as his arms dropped and the blood started moving painfully through the dead flesh. "Ite...." Tears sprang to his eyes and trickled down his cheeks. It HURT!

"There, there," Motoki comforted, chafing one arm gently, then the other. Zoisite yelped, as that hurt even more, but it helped, and the pain was receding, more of the unnatural warmth taking its place.

"Better?" Motoki queried, gazing earnestly into Zoisite's heavy eyes.

Zoisite just nodded. It was easier than trying to speak.

"Good." Motoki smiled sweetly, reaching up and plucking out the combs in Zoisite's hair. "Now, let's do something about these. This style doesn't really suit you, you know? You need to let your hair flow loose. That's much more sensual."

Zoisite just blinked, trying to figure out what was wrong with this picture. Shouldn't his hair be in a ponytail? And shouldn't the man running his fingers through the silken curls have longer hair, in a shade more of pale moonlight than warm sunlight? What...?

"Ah!" Motoki nodded, smiling to himself. "That's good. Now, this dress, while it looks very flattering on you, isn't really to my taste. So we'll have to get rid of it, won't we?"

Without waiting for an answer, he swiftly unbuttoned the bodice and tugged it down off Zoisite's shoulders. He paused and tsk-ed. "And not a stitch of underclothing. What nice lady goes out without a bra?"

Zoisite frowned. He wasn't a lady... was he? He looked down. No, his chest was as flat as he remembered. So what was the boy prattling about? He suddenly found he couldn't raise his head back up, lacked the strength even to do that. But Motoki did it for him, with a gentle hand.

"Silly. I'm teasing," Motoki said lightly, his voice warm with affection. He placed a light kiss to Zoisite's lips. "I'm not into cross-dressers, really, but you were too pretty to pass up." He grinned as he pushed the unresisting king back onto the pillows and stripped the dress the rest of the way off of him. "What were you doing there anyway?" he asked curiously, not seeming to take any heed of the fact that Zoisite was unable to answer. "Wander into the wrong bar by mistake?" He cocked his head and grinned, running his eyes over Zoisite's slim form. The captive king was clad now in nothing but a pair of tiny green briefs. Zoisite had a vague feeling he should have been mortified or furious, or both, but he was having trouble finding any emotions in the warm fuzz filling his head. "Mmm... no, you were there for a reason, weren't you?" Motoki's voice sharpened as he moved up to press his face close to Zoisite's. "You were targeting me specifically. I'm going to have quite a bit of fun with you, but before we start into the good stuff, I would like you to tell me why you were looking for me!"

Zoisite winced as Motoki pinched one of his nipples sharply. The pain helped him to focus his thoughts a little. "I... was...."

"Oh, but where are my manners?" Motoki was all good nature and polite host once more. Zoisite wondered if he had gone insane and was dreaming, or if this was real and it was just the strange youth who was insane. "We haven't even been introduced. I'll assume you know my name, since you were looking for me; am I right?"

Zoisite nodded mutely, unable to deny the truth.

Motoki smiled sweetly, though there was a flicker of darkness in his eyes. "Tell me my name, then tell me yours," he said, his voice hardening once more.

Zoisite was drifting in a feeling of helplessness. It was as though reality had deserted him, and all there was in the world was this room; he and this youth. He could barely remember who he was, couldn't call to mind what he had been doing a few hours ago. "M-Motoki..." he managed to choke out.

"Good boy." Motoki leaned forward and kissed him again, this time with a warm, wet swipe of his tongue across Zoisite's lower lip. Then he sat back again, leaving Zoisite to analyze the feeling and wonder why it frightened him at the same time it felt rather pleasant. "And your name?"

It took him a couple moments to bring it to mind, but Motoki waited patiently. "Zoisite," he finally gasped out.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Motoki asked, stroking Zoisite's loose hair back from his flushed face. "Zoisite, mm? Pretty name to go with a pretty man. We'll get into what you wanted from me after the drug has worn off a little. It's going to be a long night, sweetling."

Zoisite shivered at the menace clear to read in those softly spoken words, then all rational thought shattered as Motoki moved his mouth to his captive's once more.

Mmm... as sweet he had expected. Motoki smiled inwardly as he deepened the kiss, exploring Zoisite's mouth with a demanding tongue. The smaller man made a muffled sound of protest, but lacked the strength to fight back. Just to be safe, however, Motoki grasped the slim wrists and pinned them to the bed on either side of Zoisite's chest.

Finally ending the kiss with one last lick at the quivering lower lip, Motoki drew back. He had to chuckle at Zoisite's expression; a perfectly balanced mixture of shocked outrage and dazed acceptance. Not that this wasn't something he hadn't seen many times before, but it just looked so *cute* on this lovely pale face.

"Mm, too much too soon?" he queried seriously, lifting one of Zoisite's hands and brushing his lips against the inside of the wrist. Zoisite flinched, his breath hissing, for the flesh was raw and abraded from the cords used to bind him previously. Motoki hid a smirk. That was nothing compared to the pain this beautiful young man would be feeling in an hour or so....

But it would be useless to exercise such measures now, while Zoisite was under the drug's influence. He would still be able to feel pleasure -- though not as sharply as usual -- but pain would be a bit lost on him at the moment. Motoki could wait.

Zoisite was now regarding his captor with a look midway between fear and anticipation. Motoki grinned openly. This also was familiar, but so very enjoyable! And, damn, but this was a lovely one this time!

TBC

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