I Made A Deal With The Devil's Son (Yaoi)

Chapter 1: Death Called The Son

A/N:The setting is in Japan, on a train. If you know anything about trains in Japan, you should know that people get molested on trains... or at least they do in anime. I've never been to Japan so I don't know but I hope you still like it.

My name is Kurai Sayaki. I'm 18 years old and in high school. I have straight, black hair that goes to my shoulders and bangs that reach just above my sky, blue eyes. I'm kind of skinny for my age but I'm very strong and short tempered. I'm bi and not that bad looking if I do say so myself. I live in Japan with my parents. My family is from America but we learned Japanese when we came to Japan. I'm like most boys with one major difference. I made a deal with the Devil's son. How it happened is a different story.

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I put my hands on the doors, trying to push against the people behind me. This always happened whenever I rode the train to and from school. It was always packed and smelled of both perfume and sweat. Usually, I always had a little space to move but this time, I had none. I was using all my strength just to keep myself from getting squished between the train doors and the people who were pushing me against them. Just then, I felt a pressure on my member that seemed to be moving around in a circular motion. Oh great, a molester. I've had this happen to me a few times but I was always able to swat their hands away and punch them in the face. This just had to happen when my arms weren't free.

The hand that was touching me began to rub up and down. The fucker really thinks I'm going to get turned on? Well, being an 18 year old boy in high school with raging hormones, you can't stop it even though you want to. And of course, my little friend just had to respond to his touches even though it felt disgusting and I wanted to puke. I then felt a slight breeze on my neck and a deep voice whispered in my ear. "You're getting turned on. You're such a slut." I was already mad that he was touching me but now he's calling me a slut? Oh fuck no! "I'm not the perverted bastard molesting a boy. Now get your fucking nasty hands off me!" I screamed, trying to sound as angry and bold as possible.

If I'm able to beat up most of the punks who tried to mess with me, then this guy was no problem. Now if only I could move my arms long enough to punch him. He then spoke in a cocky way. "But you seem to be enjoying this. Or at least this part is." He rubbed my member some more, causing me to moan slightly. Dammit. There was no way I could take this for another 10 minutes until I get to my stop. Can't this train go any faster?! I tried to reposition myself to where I could use one of my hands to swat his hand away but I was pressed too tightly to the side of the train. Just then, the man molesting me began to yell. "The hell?! Let go of me!" His hand felt like it had been jerked away. I turned my head to see who had just saved me and gasped. He was like nothing I had ever seen before.

He had fiery red hair with bangs that were somewhat longer than mine and emerald green eyes that seemed like they were poised to kill. His height was just slightly above mine and he had a small build to him. He spoke in a voice that made me want to just record it and replay it over and over. What? His voice was hot! And so was he. He glared at the man. "Should I call the cops and tell them what you're doing? Or will you give up and leave this boy alone? Your choice. And I hope you're smart enough to know which one to choose." The man looked at him with an expression mixed of anger and fear. He pulled his hand away from the boy. "Fine. I'll leave him alone. But this isn't over punk." When the train stopped, the man walked out of the doors and flicked us the finger before walking away.

I finally had room to move as I also stepped off the train and so did the boy. I stretched out my muscles and turned to the boy. "Thanks. Who are you?" He smiled at me. "I'm Yasha Tagami. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand and I shook it. "Kurai Sayaki." I then realized what he was wearing. "Do you go to the same school as me? Your uniform..." He looked down at his clothes. "I do actually. I'm in a grade higher than you." That would explain the color difference. The school I go to shows what grade you're in by the colored patch on your white, buttoned shirt that you always had to where with black pants. If you're a freshman, you wear a green patch. Sophomore is purple, junior is blue, and senior is red. The patch is also in the shape of lion head since that was our mascot for the school teams.