Nobody is here baby
Noone here to blame
Noone to point the finger at
It's just you and me and the rain

It's the blind leading the blind
It's the stuff, the stuff of country songs

And if God would send His angels
And if God would send a sign
And if God would send His angels
Would everything be all right?

"If God Would Send His Angels" - U2

Getting him in was not half as difficult as I thought it would be. The guard that was on station recognized him, and perhaps assumed that he was part of the team. Perhaps he'd spent so much time cooped up in training that he never noticed that his name was never on the squad list.

The elevator doors slid shut on us and suddenly I'm staring into my reflection in the mirrored walls. My eyes, red and swollen, the face of a man so distraught he can barely think straight. I'm definitely not thinking straight. And the sight of his face behind me is not helping at all.

I turn around to face him, but before he can raise his voice to speak I silence him with two fingers on his lips. His eyes are still defying my, denying me entrance.

Why, Nam-Il? Don't you want this as much as I do? I know you do. I can see it, I can feel it, I can taste it in your breath when we kissed.

When we kissed.

Slowly I let my arms go around his waist and tilt my face up to meet his. The part of him that wants to turn away is beaten by the part of him that can't resist, and soon we're filling the confined space of the elevator with the desperate, frantic sounds of our lips molding and sucking at each other, his arms encasing me in a strong iron grip.

That's it, Nam-Il. That's it. Give in. Give in to me. It's not so hard to do, is it? I promise I'll make it good for you. I'll make it good.

After all, I'm not the naive little boy you once knew anymore.

He pulls away from me just before we reach the floor where the team is staying.

"Your teammates...they might-"

"They're all gone for the night." I assure him. "I don't share my room with anybody. I joined the team late, so they got me a room all to myself."

He nods, and as the doors slide open I quickly take his hand and pull him along the deserted corridors to my room.

I nearly have to shove him inside, as he seemed to second-guess himself even more with every step we take. There's just no way, absolutely no way I'm going to give up on him. Not when I'm this close. Not when I've pretty much thrown every caution into the wind just to get to this point. I'm too far gone now, Nam-Il. I can't hold back. I won't.

He's giving me no chance. No chance to escape, the slow, irresistible pull of his presence near me. The instant we're inside he backs me up against the door and locks it, immediately pressing his body against mine.

My mind is in a whirl as I embrace him, as I kiss him, as I relish the way he tastes.

I've always wanted to know how he tastes. I never got the chance to find out, and after what happened I thought I never will.

But now here we are, and the only sensation I'm registering is the feel of those two soft, pliant lips opening up under mine and letting me in, his little tongue darting out to flick against the roof of my mouth, his hands lacing at the back of my neck, my own hands moving against my will and around his body, down his back, further down to where my they had never dared to wander before.

And he's letting me do all this. He wants me to do all this. He wants me. Wants. Me.

The questions I've so long wanted to ask, and now they've been aswered.

He loves me.

That shrill, weak voice speaking to me, barely audible in the roaring wind, raindrops that fell as if they were bullets. It's still raining now, even harder. It feels like the world is weeping. Why?

"I love you..." he whispers, as if I needed the reminder.

Buttons undone, slippery fingers against wet fabric, sliding off our bodies and landing in messy heaps on the floor. He pulls me, inch by inch, closer to the bed, then maneuvers me around until I feel the mattress against the back of my legs.

I didn't know he had this much power, this much will to make others do his bidding. And I didn't know I'd be so susceptible to it, that I would be so powerless to stop him.

A light push from him and I let myself fall, my back hitting the mattress.

In no time he's sprawled on top of me, eyes sparkling and almost hypnotic. My beautiful Ji-Sung. Why have you changed so much?

"I remember the last time we were like this..." he whispers. "Just after the match with Portugal, when we were in my hotel room watching the replays."

I remember too, Ji-Sung. I remember all too well.

"You were so angry at that Portuguese guy for tackling me...you were so upset. You said you could've killed him."

I know. I know I said it. And did you know that I very nearly did kill him?

"You were willing to kill for me, Nam-Il. Kill. For me."

For you, Ji-Sung. For you.

"That must mean..." a flick of his tongue against my earlobe, my brain trying hard to restart but failing miserably. "...that you loved me then."

Did I? Did I?

Ji-Sung's face is over mine, the tip of our noses brushing against each other, his warm breath against my open mouth.

"And I know...you still love me now."

It's all I can take. With each successive word, he'd steadily dismantled my self-control, and now I'm losing it. I take his head in my hand and pull him down to me, ravishing his willing mouth, my other arm going around him to grip him tightly, pressing our two heated, naked bodies together.

Naked. With Ji-Sung. The stuff of a thousand wet dreams spent alone ever since the World Cup ended, now coming true.

You're right, Ji-Sung. You're right. I did love you. And I still do. So I guess, contrary to my former beliefs, I am capable of love after all. And yet, that admission comes out of me like a painful lump out of my throat, not the joyous relief that I once thought it would be. Is this what it's supposed to feel like?

He rolls us over until I'm on top of him, grinding his lower body seductively against mine in the process. I can't stop myself from letting out a stifled moan, my eyes blinking profusely as the jolt runs through me.

You're definitely not the naive, innocent little Park Ji-Sung anymore. Maybe you never were. Maybe you've deceived me all along. Or maybe I was just too blind to see it.

The shift of his opening legs, willing me between them, the smooth glide of his skin, the way his small eyes widen as I start to move against him...how long have I dreamt of this, thinking I would never experience it?

And now that I have it, why does my heart feel so troubled?

"Forget everything else..." he says, reading my mind. Perhaps he sees everything through my eyes, as helpless as I feel in his gaze. "Forget everything else. I just want to be with you, here and now. Please?"

You didn't have to beg me. I feel like I'm already yours. If anyone here should be begging, it's me.

I'm inside you now, Ji-Sung. God, you are so tight...it's obvious you've done this before, that you've mastered it down to a science, and you're so subtly manipulating me to your will. And I play right along, unable to stop myself.

How can I stop, when my body feels in Heaven though my mind tells me I'm digging my own grave?

He pulls me down for a kiss as I move in and out, the heat so intense I think it's going to burn us through before we're done. You feel so good, Ji-Sung...so good. Better than I ever imagined. Your arms around my shoulders, your legs aroudn my waist, your muscles against my cock...

I reach down with one free hand and start stroking his leaking hardness, slowly. He responds by kissing me even harder, the movement of his tongue becoming more frantic against mine.

I stroke and I shove and I move into him, I move against him, feeling blood pound in my veins and my vision swimming in and out of focus. But all I see is him, even when I close my eyes. Your face, your eyes, your lips...like a fallen angel ready to take me down into the abyss with you.

He reaches his climax first, spurting wildly in my hand, screaming my name aloud. I'm not far behind, thrusting into him one last time and exploding inside of him, gushing into him in a torrent I think will never stop.

And when it finally does, I open my eyes again and I see his face smiling at me.

Smiling. Just a slight tug at the corner of those pretty lips, his face flushed and tired, yet beaming with a certain sense of achievement.

You've conquered me.

You've killed me.

I pull out of him slowly, the heat dissipating so quickly and replaced by a cold sense of dread, and he pulls my head down to his chest, stroking my hair gently.

His touch gives me little comfort, but I'm too weak to turn away now.

I lay my head on his chest and close my eyes.

His heart is beating.

His heart.

How beautiful it is, a living heart beating against my ears...I've felt it before, and it's never lost its charm.

I've felt it before.

A heart beating, just like this.

The cold sense of dread turns into an icy jab that goes straight to my gut and freezes my blood in my veins.

Uke.

"No..." I mutter.

"What?" his voice asks.

Not Uke's voice. Ji-Sung's. Not Uke's.

I look up and see his face. Ji-Sung's face.

"No..." I shake my head.

"Nam-Il, what is it?"

"I have to go, Ji-Sung."

"NO!" he says, barely hiding his discontent. "Stay here...stay with me."

"I said, I have to go." I try to inject some firmness in my voice.

"Stay...please stay..." he tries to beg. Oh, God...why did this have to happen?

"Ji-Sung, your teammates will soon be back from town, or from wherever they went. I can't stay here. I can't sneak out in the morning, it's too risky. I have to go now."

Where on earth I find the strength for logic I will never know, but I see a reluctant nod from him and that's my cue. I slide off the bed, hastily putting my still-wet clothes back on. It's still raining outside.

"Nam-Il..." he calls from the bed.

I almost don't want to look. I might never get out of here alive, if I do that. But I look. With every bit of courage I can muster, I look.

"I love you..." he says, a whisper carried to me by the air no matter how much I didn't want to hear it.

"I know." I say through trembling lips. I'm sorry, Ji-Sung. I can't say what you want to hear from me. I can't. This has gone too far already.

"Be careful."

"I will."

It feels like I can't reach the door quick enough to be out of his room, out of the place where he holds such power over me. I turn the handle and I step outside, closing the door behind me.

Immediately my knees go weak, and I have to brace myself against the wall to keep me form falling. I close my eyes and let my head rest against the wall, trying to steady my wobbly legs.

Between the rasping breath, between the nausea I feel growing in my stomach, I get the prickly sensation that someone is watching me.

Someone is watching me.

I open my eyes, alarmed, and turn my head to look.

And when I see who's standing there in front of me, I know I'm all but dead.

On to Part 16