Title: Firestorm
Fandom: Air Gear
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Sano/Kazu
Dedication: Peroxidepest17. To the winner go the spoils—and the porn.
Prompt: None given, so I built on a previous theme! Hooray for more fiery clichés.
Description: While Ikki prepares to ascend Trophaeum, Sano and Kazu conquer another summit.
Rating: A hard R, bordering on NC-17. This isn't too explicit, after all, especially compared to the darkroom porn.
Word Count: 4,353
Status: Complete, with edits. Yes, I actually did conscious revisions for a change. It's a big step.
Other Notes: Can you believe this actually took me three days? Because clearly I still have no idea what I'm doing, BUT when in doubt, stick with what's worked before, right? Minor spoilers up to Ch. 85 of the manga but mostly I just ignored the canon altogether. Canon? What canon:D;

When a flame is sparked, intensity is everything.

The phenomenon of the firestorm, or fire raining from the sky, is a unique combination of intensity and fire.

A firestorm is a conflagration—a large, uncontrollable fire—which attains such intensity that it creates and sustains its own wind system.

The blazing maelstrom of the firestorm is created when the heat of the original fire draws in more and more of the surrounding air. This draft can rapidly increase if a low level jet stream exists over or near the fire.

As the updraft mushrooms, strong gusty winds develop around the fire, directed inward. The strong updraft creates tremendous turbulence which causes the strong surface inflow winds to change direction erratically. This wind shear is capable of producing small tornadoes which can also dart around erratically and quickly spread the fire to areas outside the central area of the fire.

The greater draft of a firestorm draws in greater quantities of oxygen, which significantly increases combustion, thereby also substantially increasing the production of heat. The intense heat of a firestorm manifests largely as radiated heat, which ignites flammable material at a distance ahead of the fire itself.

The warning signs of firestorms include decreased visibility, decreased sound conduction, breathing difficulties, and consumption by heat in the absence of oxygen.

Firestorms are considered one of nature's most destructive forces.

Yet Kazu is finding that simply because things are dangerous, they are not any less desirable.

Having been suddenly roused from a dream of abstract forms intertwined with vague recollections, it takes Kazu a second to get his bearings and figure out just what it was that had so rudely woken him. It's pitch-black in the room and, judging by the groggy state of his mind, he's not been asleep but for a couple of hours. Sure enough, a quick glance at the digital clock on his nightstand yields that the time is only shortly after midnight. Only after sitting up does the sleep clear enough for him to become aware of the insistent tapping on his window that has continued all the while.

Crossing over to the window, Kazu manages to discern the outlines of Sano's face behind the glass. He's a little surprised, as this wasn't a planned rendezvous, but then, he wouldn't put it past the homo-bastard to stage a sneak attack.

Still, the anticipation of what Sano is after doesn't prevent his astonished reaction when the first thing the college student does after Kazu opens the window is plant a kiss on his lips.

"Good morning!" the homo-bastard greets him energetically as ever.

"It's a quarter past midnight," Kazu grumbles, though part of his frustration stems not only from the interrupted sleep but also from the fact that the kiss was so brief. "What are you doing here?"

Sano smiles enigmatically. "Put some clothes on, grab your ATs, and come with me. There's something I want you to see."

Kazu raises an eyebrow but complies. With no parents home to scold him, there really is nothing to prevent him from going out, and he must admit that he is more than a little intrigued at what his friend—dare he say boyfriend? But that term sounds so awkward, even if they have kissed more now than most ordinary couples Kazu's age have—might have to show him at this late hour.

Minutes later, the two are skating off together in the darkness.

"Where are we going?" Kazu asks after they have skated for the better part of a half hour and yet still have apparently not arrived at their destination.

"Shhh," Sano hushes him. "You'll see when we get there."

There's that damn enigmatic smile again, and Kazu knows there's no getting anything out of the college student when he's wearing that kind of expression. The Iron Clock reveals all at his own pace, regardless of how frustrating that might be for those around him. Kazu knows that some things are not worth fighting, however, and resigns himself to the inevitable—that he's going to be left in the dark until they reach wherever it is they're headed.

That euphemism is not unsound, as when they do get to their destination, he is, quite literally, illuminated. He gasps when they emerge from a back alley and come to a halt, only to suddenly come face-to-face with the city port. They are no workers around at this time of day, yet the harbor has, for some obscure reason, nonetheless become a gathering spot of a large throng of individuals. Their faces cast in shadow, they speak amongst themselves in hushed whispers, all the while keeping their eyes trained on the water.

And, after all, why would they not—for the sea is alight with a million tiny candle flames. Closer inspection reveals that the tea lights were set on tiny wooden boats, which in turn had been set afloat atop the water in the port. It's a hauntingly beautiful sight, yet Kazu finds himself staring up at his partner quizzically.

He starts to ask, "What—?"

But Sano again silences him, pressing one finger to his lips while he points his other hand in the air. "Shhh! Listen."

After a couple of minutes of intensively straining his ears, Kazu manages to make out the sound of singing in distance. It's starting off softly but gradually builds in intensity as more voices join the chorus. The melody is difficult to distinguish, as it seems there is not one single song being sung but a variety of words and tunes, yet the music is anything but dissonant.

"What is that music?" Kazu asks.

"Normally, human songs are of love, desire, joy, or, occasionally, sadness," Sano explains, "but not these. They are singing songs of hope—however they know how."

"Songs of hope…" Kazu mumbles. "Hope for what?"

But Sano will not yet give him a straight answer. "Look around you. They are all members of Genesis."

Only then does Kazu notice what he failed to discern the first time he surveyed the area around him: all of the shadowy figures are wearing ATs.

"I wasn't informed in advance that they were planning to hold this. When they invited me to come tonight, I wanted to make sure I got to share it with you," Sano muses, gazing off in the distance with an unreadable expression.

When Kazu doesn't respond right away, he waves his hand behind and to the left of him and continues, "There's an old, abandoned skate park a little ways down the road. The rest of Genesis is assembled there. I'm going to go and chat with a few acquaintances. You can join me if you like."

But Kazu is mesmerized by the sight of the little flames floating just above the water's surface. Something about the tiny sources of light and warmth in the darkness makes it hard to turn away, and he barely even registers when Sano silently skates off in the direction he had gestured.

Kazu feels a strange sense of affinity with the candles, perhaps because he, too, is aware how fragile he is, as well as the inevitability of the victory of the waves. But more than that, he can't shake the desire to set his ship on fire and erupt in a blaze of glory before descending into the murky depths below. He longs for his very essence to be consumed by the flames.

The music is still building, the crowd standing nearest him having joined in the singing. He finds the melody oddly disquieting—almost tragic in its harmonic dissimilitude. It seems to permeate the very molecules of the air around him, and he shivers when he feels it crawl under his skin and seek to resonate with his heartstrings.

And then he feels cold.

It overwhelms him both through its stark, bone-chilling iciness and the suddenness of its onset. One minute, he had felt as though he were glowing like the little flames upon the water, and the next, his insides transformed into a frozen wasteland. Darkness, too, seems to accompany the surge of cold, and for all the undimmed candlelight in front of him, the world abruptly appears a lot less bright.

The fear descends last and leaves Kazu the most rattled. He can't figure out why he is afraid. He recalls that, for just a moment, he had thought that the singing was quite possibly the saddest thing he had ever heard in his life. He had tasted a hint of loneliness before the cold came, and the rest followed. But he can't explain the fear.

He only knows that he can't bear to be alone another second.

Without hesitation, he swings his body around and propels himself forward in the direction of the skate park. The fact that the homo-bastard was the first person he thought of when he realized he craved another's company no longer even fazes him. Asking "why" is a pointless endeavor when he's been in over his head since he started, and at times like these, it just feels too damn good to defy logic in favor of acting on impulse.

And maybe, just maybe, he wants to believe that the homo-bastard puts him first, too.

It isn't easy to find Sano in the mob that has gathered in the old skate park. Genesis sports many members, and it truly appears as though the bulk of them have turned out for the occasion. Most of them skate quickly, like little whirlwinds, pausing their singing and their rapid movements only occasionally while they exchange a few words with familiar faces. In the dim light, Kazu almost feels as though he is observing an ancient tribal ritual.

The glint of light off a pair of glasses finally alerts him to the college student's whereabouts. Sano is leaning against a fence on the opposite side of the track, talking to a small group of girls. Kazu knows he shouldn't worry, since the college student has, after all, professed his contrary inclinations, but he can't suppress a feeling of dismay at the homo-bastard's smoothness. The girls seem to be eating up every word he utters, and he executes it all with a disgustingly cool and collected expression.

Kazu skates straight across to the other side, only narrowly avoiding a collision with a giggling blonde girl who quickly utters an apology and then stares back in amazement as Kazu simply skates on without even so much as flinching.

It isn't that he means to be rude; it's just that when he knows where he's going, he goes for it without stopping. His drive, however, does not stem from passion as much as it does from desperation—an urgent and overpowering need to find his place in the world. He isn't sure whether he's found that place yet, but right now, at least he knows where he wants to be: by Sano's side.

And so he skids to a halt beside the college student, who doesn't seem at all surprised to find the middle schooler there, panting and slightly pale-looking. Sano simply smiles a little more broadly and proceeds to gently shoo away the girls.

"Don't invite me out at night and then leave me by myself," Kazu grumbles when the last of the giggling throng has skated out of earshot.

Sano could mention that Kazu was the one who had elected to linger, and secretly, Kazu knows this, but thankfully, the other chooses not to bring it up.

A hint of amusement in his voice, Sano simply asks, "Miss me already?"

Kazu just shrugs and looks down at the ground, hands buried deep in his pockets. Even if he did, he'd never admit it.

"I don't know why, but that song… it makes me sad." He glances back up and continues, "Why are they singing? What is it they hope for?"

With a wistful look upon his face, Sano gingerly plays with a stray strand of Kazu's hair where it emerges from beneath the beanie. "The summit of Trophaeum. Today they commemorate the conclusion of one phase and the beginning of another. We hope that this new era will mark the ascension of someone to the throne of the Sky King."

"Ikki," Kazu breathes. "All of this is for him?"

This time, it's Sano's turn to shrug. "Perhaps. Simca the Swallow believes that Ikki-sama is the Chosen One, but Genesis numbers many and not all share her opinion. As such, tonight isn't directed at any one individual in particular. We simply feel that the timing is right for the rise of a new contender and seek to celebrate it."

Kazu is silent for a second.

"What about you?" he then asks. "Why don't you want to be the Sky King?"

"Maybe I did," Sano murmurs, flashing a sad smile as he moves his hand down to stroke Kazu's cheek, "for a time. But not anymore."

Kazu swallows but doesn't look away. "Why not?"

"You may have already guessed that I have other ambitions," Sano explains. "It's true that I love to direct things from behind the scenes, and for a time the politics are interesting, but in the end the extent of the contention is trying, and I don't have the kind of leadership ability to overcome it. But more than that, I felt that the ascension of Trophaeum wasn't worth devoting everything to—because that is the kind of sacrifice the task demands. And why devote so much to one pursuit when there are so many other summits to conquer?"

Kazu's gaze is transfixed by Sano's lips as they carefully enunciate the words "other summits". He detects an undertone of innuendo, and for once it doesn't leave him flustered or annoyed but breathless and eager. All other noise has faded into the background; even the singing no longer even registers in his mind. His ears long only to hear that soft, low tone of Sano's voice speak sweet and dirty and secret things.

"Other summits?" he asks tentatively.

Sano startles him by dropping to one knee so that their heads are now closer to the same level. There is a faint trace of smugness around the mouth that moments before had uttered words sufficient to induce a slight tremble in his legs, but aside from that the homo-bastard's face is as placid as ever.

Sano takes one of Kazu's hands in his, and the corner of his eye twitches ever so slightly as he whispers, "I can show you one of them, if you like."

Kazu's eyes widen, and he briefly wonders if he is capable of taking in enough oxygen to satisfy the quickened beating of his heart. "Do it."

"Don't tempt me like that unless you know what you're getting yourself into," Sano breathes against his ear, the sides of their faces pressed together. "I won't stop at just fooling around, you know."

"I know," Kazu says, a little shakily. "That's why I want to."

Sano carefully studies his face, attempting to gauge his resolve, most likely. He takes so long that Kazu fears he might drown in the little flames in the the homo-bastard's eyes by the time he answers.

"Okay," Sano says simply, rising to his feet so quickly that Kazu stumbles backward a little. "Come with me."

Kazu blinks, suddenly not so sure that his legs can carry him very far. "Where…?"

"My car is parked a few streets back," Sano answers as he takes him by the hand.

Kazu isn't sure whether to feel honored, childish, or emasculated, but he doesn't wrench free, allowing the college student to lead him along. It isn't until their hands make contact that he realizes that his palms are slightly sweaty, but Sano's grip is warm and firm, and he's too intoxicated by the unusual ambience to voice any objections at this point anyway.

Kazu has been playing with fire for far too long, and now he's ready to let the flames consume him.

When they arrive at Sano's expensive foreign car, parked in a back alley a few streets behind the skate park, Kazu can't help but wonder where the homo-bastard intends to take them—back to his apartment? a love hotel?—and, more importantly, how long it will take to get there. Sano's hand, too, has been growing hotter, and Kazu guesses that the other is most likely approaching the limits of his endurance just as swiftly as he is.

Yet when they reach the vehicle, Sano catches him by surprise by opening the driver's side door but not sitting down or putting the key in the ignition. After they both take off their ATs and place them in the trunk, he just stands there as though waiting expectantly for Kazu to act.

"Aren't you going to get in?" Sano queries when Kazu still doesn't move.

"What?" Kazu blinks, and then it dawns on him. "Wait, you mean—! You want to do it there? B-b-but it's a two-seater! How is that comfortable?"

He shivers at the thought of all those things poking into his back while they— His face turns bright red at the mental image of what they're about to do.

Sano shrugs, flashes a devious smile, and then gets in the car. "Fine, then. You can be on top."

Kazu starts to stammer an objection but Sano doesn't give him the opportunity, laying back across the two seats and pulling the helpless middle schooler with him, then silencing him with a quick but passionate kiss.

"See? This is not so bad," he smirks after he pulls away.

Kazu is still slightly flushed. "Idiot."

Sano's response is to pull him down for another kiss—longer and far more demanding this time—while his hands stray lower and start to pull down his pants. The homo-bastard sure doesn't waste any time. Of course, once his hands stray there, Kazu can't complain too much, either. He'd never imagined that something could feel quite so good. Sano's fingertips are sparking little flames all over his body, and the heat is a welcome refuge from a world of insecurities and fears.

Kazu is drunk on the feeling of being wanted, and so he ignores the warning signals in his brain telling him this is a bad idea and he has no clue what he's getting himself into, instead sinking a little further into Sano's embrace while their tongues delve into each other's mouths like they're starving and the redhead's hand reaches even lower. Kazu doesn't notice that the other has unzipped his pants until he feels him hot and hard and still growing against the skin of his belly, and the spreading warmth raises his body temperature another five degrees. At some point in the shuffle, he lost his beanie; his blonde locks are suddenly falling into his face.

Another moment, and then Sano is pulling their lips apart and Kazu, eyes glazed and unfocused, is trying to figure out what's wrong.

"Nothing's wrong," the college student is whispering, "but I need you to reach over and open up the glove compartment."

It takes a little effort to fully process the request, but seconds later, Kazu shifts his weight onto a stomach and pries open the glove compartment with one trembling hand. Aside from the usual insurance papers, there are condoms and a small jar of lube. The homo-bastard had prepared for this.

Kazu glances at Sano out of the corner of his eye, intending to turn it into a glare but failing quite contemptibly. After all, in the end, a homo-bastard will always be a homo-bastard, and he probably can't hold it against him that he was thinking ahead. Probably.

He picks up the items and hands them to Sano. The college student seems to have noticed his moment's hesitation, however, because he nuzzles and kisses Kazu's face above him a little more tenderly than normal. Kazu hears the tearing of the condom wrapper but he doesn't look down. A bit of the cold has crept back into his stomach, and he burrows his face in Sano's collar as the other inserts one finger slicked with lube. It's cold. Sano nibbles on his ear, and the combination of his hot breath tickling the back of his neck and the slowly-probing finger sends a shiver down his spine. A second finger.

It hurts, and yet it doesn't. It's better described as the region between discomfort and actual pain. Compared to the impression he got from rumors and books and TV, it really isn't that painful at all. He breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes.

The third finger is less pleasant, but Sano makes it all okay by pressing their mouths together again. Soon, the fire in his loins resumes its build, and the sensation becomes more bearable.

"Spread your legs more," Sano instructs, eyes glittering and half-lidded with passion.

Kazu's mind is already so far gone that he has trouble making sense of the words. "What?"

"You need to spread your legs more," Sano repeats, "or it'll hurt a lot."

Kazu sits up, momentarily too bewildered to find words. "You… You've done this before."

There's a beat of silence. Neither of them says a word. Two pairs of eyes study each other's faces, the fog of passion having lifted enough for their vision to clear.

Sano pauses, probably to calculate the best response. "Would you like me to lie and pretend that's not the case?"

Kazu doesn't answer, but the slightly stricken look on his face says enough.

"It's true you're not the first," he continues, wrapping his arms around the blonde's waist while he tries to coax him back down into his embrace, "but that doesn't mean you're not the only one right now. Okay? So, relax."

He uses his fingertips to massage Kazu's lower back while the middle schooler fights the war with logic one more time. He knows this is his last chance to back out, but a mixture of desire, curiosity, and pride won't allow him to. He sinks back down against Sano's chest.

Sano moves his hands to the boy's sides, and with a display of strength you wouldn't expect from an admittedly rather geeky-looking university student, lifts Kazu back up in the air a little—enough to make the angle more suitable for entry. The burning, searing pain continues a bit too long for comfort, but Kazu fights hard not to let it show on his face, and Sano's hands are warm and firm yet gentle in their caresses.

"Bastard," Kazu finally spits out when his mind stops blurring long enough for him to speak, "that did hurt."

"I'm sorry," Sano apologizes, but his sincerity is hard to gauge in this kind of situation. "Sit back up a little and help me move."

Kazu grumbles but complies, shifting more of his weight onto his legs to allow him more freedom to move while the redhead starts to grind his hips. It takes them a few tries, but eventually, they find a rhythm, with Kazu half-suspended above Sano's sprawled-out body, adjusting his balance to meet the redhead's thrusts and moving with them. The hardest part is trying to take in enough air.

In the end, the college student runs out of patience, lifting Kazu and rather awkwardly turning their bodies until at last the blonde is half-sitting, half-laying-back against the passenger seat, with Sano pounding into him in front, all the while pressing their bodies together. (For once, he's very grateful for leather interiors.) But by that time, Kazu is so close that he doesn't mind, because it's as if they really are climbing a summit together, every push taking them a step closer to the apex. He can almost touch it, taste the sunlight and in reality it's after one in the morning, but what does that have to do with anything?

Sano reaches the top first but drags Kazu with him, and soon he is lost in the sensation of simultaneously rising to great highs and falling into great depths. But more than the rush and the exhilaration of the final plunge, he revels in the feeling of burning and being born again from the ashes, over and over again, until at last the fire gives out.

Kazu collapses back against the chair, and long after the sparks have faded, he sits in a daze, trying to remember how to breathe. For once, the homo-bastard has the discretion not to comment, but simply smiles as he buttons his shirt and zips his pants up and pulls some of Kazu's clothes back on. As an afterthought, he covers the still-vegetative boy with his coat, wrapping it about him like a blanket, before slipping into the driver's seat and starting the car.

The road back leads them along the harbor, and Kazu dozes off to the sight of hundreds of little flames still dancing on the water's surface.

Kazu awakens in the morning to find himself back in his own bed, his pajamas back on and the covers tucked up to his chin—but there is no warm body beside him. The pain in his back means the events of the night were all too real, but he can't tell whether or not it was a foolish hope to not wake up alone. The films and shows on TV always glorify the concept of "the morning after", suggesting that if you find the other side of the bed empty when you wake, the relationship is doomed. He hadn't realized just how much he cares until he feels his chest ache as his heart falls.

Yet his reaction proves premature and his fears unfounded. A single red candle burns with an unusually intense flame on his nightstand. His body heats up instantly in response to the sight.

Pretty damn smooth for a homo-bastard. Leaning back into the pillow, Kazu smiles to himself as he softly traces a finger across the places Sano kissed the night before.

It has never felt so good to not have a fire under control.