Chapter Text
Years past his prime, Shu Kurenai faded from the public eye as new generations of bladers took the spotlight. He passed the torch of coaching on to his student Fubuki, still checking in on the club from time to time—but the fire he once felt watching young bladers burn with passion was gone. What he needed was a break, an escape. While other Legends moved on to steady careers, Shu was left with an unshakable hunger—to be seen, to be wanted, to be remembered. He finds that attention in the most unexpected way: behind a mask, on the stage of an exclusive high-end club, as the enigmatic performer known only as Crimson.
The club pulsed with deep bass, crimson light washing over the stage where Shu moved like liquid fire. Hidden behind his mask, he was Crimson Red, the star attraction of the night—untouchable, untamed, a fantasy incarnate. Nobody here knew his name, not anymore. To the crowd, he was an enigma who danced for money, never for touch. That anonymity kept him safe. Or so he thought.
When he spotted him in the audience, Shu’s heart nearly stopped.
Valt.
The Valt Aoi. The boy who’d once been his best friend, who grew into the golden champion loved by the world. Five titles, countless fans, a name that echoed even after his retirement. He looked older now, broader in the shoulders, sharper in the jawline, but still burned as bright as ever.
Shu froze for a fraction of a second on stage, panic seizing him. But Valt’s eyes—hungry, intense—didn’t flicker with recognition. Not once. Shu breathed, mask cool against his heated skin. It’s been five years, he told himself. Valt wouldn’t recognize Crimson. He couldn't have! Shu could live inside this fantasy.
So he danced. And he let himself indulge in this forbidden desire—hips rolling, chest arching, red eyes meeting Valt’s unblinking gaze. Every time their eyes locked, a bitter coil twisted in Shu’s chest. Was this the first time Valt had ever come here? Was he just another man with money and a taste for bodies? Had he looked at other dancers like this—like he wanted to devour them?
Crimson brushed off the thought as his grip slipped for a moment on the pole. He mentally scolded himself. This was his craft—an art form he took pride in. Refocusing his gaze, he sank back into the rhythm, into the pulse of the music and the weight of the ex-Valtryek blader’s stare. This was his job now. So he would perform it well.
Eventually, the song ended, signaling the close of his set. The next dancer would be taking the stage soon. Shu could still feel Valt’s gaze burning against his skin as he stepped off the stage, heart pounding beneath the mask. Backstage, his hands trembled slightly—he couldn’t believe he had just done that.
Later, when Lindia, the manager, found him backstage with a note, Shu’s heart dropped. Ten thousand dollars. A client wanted Crimson for the night. The client being none other than Valt Aoi himself. His chest tightened, pulse quickening—not from the money, but from the prospect of being able to sleep with him. Even now, years later, Valt burned as brightly as ever in his mind, and Shu felt a pull he couldn’t ignore.
“You said in the contract you didn’t want to rent yourself out...” Lindia said carefully, “But, this is a lot of money. I just wanted to check—do you want to do it? It’s totally fine if you don’t. The choice is yours, Crimson.”
Shu hesitated, swallowing hard. The thought of being that close to Valt again—of giving in to the desire he’d held onto for years—made his stomach twist. And yet… he wanted him. He wanted this. Even if he would be under a mask.
“I… okay,” Shu said softly, his voice steadying as he exhaled. “I’ll do it.”
He should have said no. He’d never rented out his body before—never even considered it. But this was Valt. The boy he’d loved for all those years. And Shu knew, deep down, he might never get another chance.
Crimson had agreed to one condition: the mask stayed on. Valt didn’t seem to mind—if anything, he looked intrigued by the added layer of mystery it gave the dancer before him.
The night began with Crimson moving closer, giving his client a slow, deliberate lap dance.
The city lights outside cast a soft glow through the curtains as Shu—Crimson—stood a few feet away, the mask still hiding his face, but his eyes burning with heat as they locked on Valt. He could feel the weight of Valt’s gaze, hungry and intense, sending a shiver down his spine.
Without a word, Shu stepped closer, hips swaying with practiced rhythm. The music from the club still lingered in his mind, guiding every movement. Slowly, deliberately, he circled Valt, letting his body brush against the broad shoulders and chest he remembered so well, letting the faintest teasing touches ignite the air between them.
Valt’s breath hitched. He was silent, watching every roll of Shu’s hips, every arch of his back, as Crimson pressed against him, the heat of his body teasing and tempting. Shu dipped lower, brushing his lips near Valt’s ear, letting the warmth of his breath ghost over him, playful and electric.
Shu’s hands traced slow, feigned casual paths along Valt’s arms and shoulders, letting the tension build, anticipation coiling tighter with each heartbeat. His thighs pressed briefly against Valt’s, a subtle, deliberate grind, and Valt’s hands twitched as if resisting the urge to pull him closer.
“Enough teasing,” Valt murmured, voice rough, low and commanding, a small smirk tugging at his lips. Even under the mask, Shu could feel the intensity in his gaze. “Let’s… continue somewhere more comfortable.”
Before Shu could respond, Valt’s hands were on his hips, firm and confident. The moment was electric—Shu’s heart thudding, a shiver running down his spine as he realized just how much he’d wanted this.
Valt lifted him effortlessly, the heat of their bodies pressing together. Shu wrapped his arms around Valt’s neck instinctively, mask brushing against his chest, every nerve alight with anticipation. Valt set him down gently on the mattress, but Shu could feel the intensity in Valt’s eyes burning hotter than any flame.
Shu’s body trembled—not from fear, but from want. He had desired this moment for years, and now, finally, Valt was taking the lead, guiding them both into the intimacy they’d craved. Even under the identity of Crimson, Shu would treasure this moment.
The hotel suite was dim, the silence broken only by the rustle of sheets and their mingled breaths. Each heartbeat, each subtle touch, drew them closer, the tension between them thick and electric.
Shu’s body trembled, tense at first, the unfamiliar stretch forcing sharp breaths from his throat. Valt stilled for a moment, watching him carefully. He felt how tight he was, how each shift drew a flinch, and his expression softened. Instead of driving harder, Valt steadied him, one hand stroking Shu’s back, the other tracing slow circles against his hip. His thrusts came gentler now, coaxing rather than taking, easing him into the rhythm until Shu’s body began to yield under him.
It wasn’t rough like the price had promised—it was careful, reverent. Valt pressed kisses down the curve of Shu’s neck, murmured soft grunts against his skin, guiding him through the ache until pleasure began to drown out the sting. To anyone else it might have looked like a casual fuck, but the way Valt touched him—like Shu was fragile, like he mattered—felt closer to making love than anything else.
When he felt Shu relax, felt his body open under the rhythm, Valt shifted. His hands tightened at Shu’s waist, grounding him, and only then did he let himself move harder, deeper, until every thrust carried weight.
Valt’s hands were firm on Shu’s hips as he thrust into him, rhythmic and relentless. Shu’s mask stayed on, his red eyes glowing through, locking Valt in place. To Valt, it was Crimson he was taking apart. But to Shu… this was everything. The only chance he’d ever have.
Then Valt’s gaze caught his—sharp, unyielding, searing straight through the mask. He leaned in until their foreheads nearly touched, lips curling in a faint smirk.
“You know…” Valt murmured, voice low, dragging, “You remind me of a friend I had years ago.” His stare pinned Shu, unwavering, deliberate. “Someone I truly—hrgh—loved.”
Shu shuddered, the words striking deeper than the force behind Valt’s hips. His breath hitched, mask hiding the flicker of pain that rushed through him. Right, to Valt he’s just Crimson. A pretty stripper he rented for the night. This wasn’t his moment to keep. Shu’s breath faltered, nails digging into Valt’s back as the words struck like a blade. His whole body betrayed him, clenching helplessly around Valt.
“Hahh—wonder how he’s…ugh!” Valt groaned, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust, gaze never leaving Shu’s eyes. “Wonder how he’s doing now…”
And that did it. The stare, the words, the unbearable tease of Valt conjuring his ghost while being inside him—Shu shattered, pleasure breaking him open, body convulsing around the man he could never have.
Valt kept his eyes locked on him the whole time. There was something more in that gaze, something intimate, piercing, and knowing.
Because the reality was that Valt knew. He had known from the very first moment he laid eyes on the Crimson dancer—but he didn’t say a word.