1The screaming had stopped. Why had it stopped? He wanted to know, needed to know. That voice, he had to have more of that voice and he didn't care how he heard it. Singing, laughing, screaming, anything so he could have more. The screaming shouldn't have stopped. He knew the voice could have continued for hours. The screaming shouldn't have stopped.

Carefully, he pushed the covers off and climbed out of bed, shivering as his feet touched the floor. A glance at a clock told him that it was midnight. Perhaps that was why the screaming had stopped. The owner of the voice was probably tired and needed some rest. He knew he had needed some rest after he'd gotten tired. Still, the screaming shouldn't have stopped. He needed to hear that voice, to savour it for as long as possible.

He padded down the corridor to the room where his angel was. He needed to know what was going on, why the screaming had stopped. He had to have more of that voice and he didn't care how he heard it. He paused in the doorway, his eyes resting on the beautiful sight before him.

A young man in his early twenties lay stretched out on the bed, naked from the waist down and with his hands tied by his sides and a thick leather strap about his waist. Dark hair clung to his forehead, his cheeks flushed, and his breathing hard and ragged. Blood trickled from the corners of the young man's lips as more flowed openly from cuts on his arms and legs. There were bruises on almost every part of his flesh, some of which were also bleeding. The lithe body shivered, but he didn't know why.

'So beautiful. So very beautiful.'

A smile tugged on the corners of his lips and he walked over to the bed. Someone grabbed his arm, stopping him. He frowned as he stared at the offending person.

"Taki, he's sick. Take it easy on him."

The other person exited the room, tucking in his shirt and zipping his pants as he went and leaving the singer alone with his angel. Taki stood there for a few moments, his eyes blinking. Then he smiled again.

His angel. He had his angel.

They'd been rivals, they were still rivals, but the other vocalist would always be his angel. Taki's smile grew. He finally had what he had wanted most in this world and he would never let the other vocalist go.

"Sing to me, my angel," he crooned, closing the distance between himself and the other vocalist. He sat on the bed. "Sing to me. I want to hear your voice. I love your voice. It is so very beautiful."

Amethyst eyes fluttered open, pain shimmering in them. The other vocalist drew a shuddering breath.

"Taki . . ."

The voice that spoke to him, that said his name, was soft, hoarse almost, but Taki didn't care. He wanted to hear it, no matter what. His name coming from those pale lips sent delicious little shivers across his spine.

"Sing to me, my Shuichi. Sing to me."

As he spoke, he stroked Shuichi's lips with his thumb, wiping away some of the blood there. He wanted to hear the vocalist. He couldn't get enough. He would never get enough.