LINK

[sensori]

Title: Link
Fandom: Kamen Rider Dragon Knight
Genre: Drama/Slash/Adult
Characters: Chance/Pryce
Rating: NC-17
Summary:  Chance doesn't realize how his world will change as he accepts the challenge to become a Kamen Rider.
Author's Notes: This story is a sequel of sorts to "Friend," which should probably be read before this. As before, for all intents and purposes, this fic attempts to stay within the same world as the show. Comments are awesome. Thanks for reading!



"Are you almost done?"

Chance could not help but break his square-jawed expression as his eyes slid up toward the young man behind the canvas. Pryce looked at him with a lazy-eyed sigh as he lowered the paintbrush in his hand. Chance tried not to move, but a sudden breeze came flowing into the room, brushing across his naked back. And he did not know why, but he suddenly burst into a fit of laughter.

Chance fell back onto the leather couch, completely losing the statue-like pose he had frozen himself into, unable to stop himself from laughing, even though he had no idea what was so humorous.

Perhaps it was the hushed seriousness of it all, as Pryce had asked him to model for a portrait. Of course, he agreed immediately. In fact, he had removed his own shirt before Pryce could even finish his request. The half-embarrassed look on Pryce's face alone was enough of a reason to agree to it. But Chance was terrible at sitting still, and they both knew it.

He looked up at his boyfriend, who wore a playful look of disapproval across his face as he set down the paintbrush on his antique desk.

"I'm sorry," Chance forced out through a laugh. "I just couldn't stay still. I suck at modeling."

"Well," Pryce began. "It's probably for the best anyway. I'm good at landscapes, but..." Pryce picked up the canvas and whirled it around to show his boyfriend the results of his hard work. "... I'm still terrible with people."

The way Pryce spoke, Chance was expecting to see a hideous rendition of himself staring back at him from the canvas. Instead, he had to stop himself from dropping his jaw as he realized what he was seeing.

The image was breathtaking. The way the sunlight from the window behind him poured into the room, casting an almost angelic light over the contours of Chance's body. His head rested firmly on the knuckles of his left hand as he peered across the room with a strong, but compassionate look in his eyes. He sat with such a commanding posture that even the surrounding furniture seemed to fade away from his overpowering aura.

Chance quickly realized that this painting was more than just a depiction of what he might have looked like. It depicted how Pryce must have felt toward him. And Chance suddenly felt as though he wasn't worthy of such affection.

It took him several moments before he could force it out. "What're you talking about? This is great!"

"Come on," Pryce breathed in disbelief. He turned around to replace the canvas on its stand.

But before his hands left the canvas, Chance was already standing behind him, slipping his arms around him from behind. Chance smirked as he watched Pryce almost drop the damn canvas on the floor, before finally setting it down.

"I said it was good," Chance said. "I meant it."

Pryce let out the faintest breath as he sunk back into his boyfriend's body, still unable to resist the allure of his touch, which Chance was all too happy to provide more of.

"Thanks," Pryce said, almost in a whisper. "How did I ever survive before I had you here to stroke my ego?"

"I'm touched," Chance replied. "I thought you only kept me around because you wanted me to stroke something else."

"Well, that too... Whoa!"

Chance smirked at Pryce's reaction as his hand suddenly dropped into his boyfriend's pants without warning. The abrupt shudder that coursed through him was enough to jump-start a reaction in his own trousers, slowly growing against Pryce's backside as his hands riffled around in front of them. In a few moments, Pryce's breathing grew heavier as the sensation of Chance's firm hand around his cock intensified.

But Chance's look of amusement fell away as a great booming sound rocked the house, sending a wave of trembling through the room. The canvas fell to the ground before them as Pryce's body whirled around, forcing Chance's hand back into the open air as they turned to the window.

The Ventaran city that stretched out before them was almost glowing under the hot sunlight that rained down upon it. But in the distance, a great plume of smoke began to rise.

"It's them," Pryce said. And Chance knew exactly what he meant. For months, they had been preparing for the day when they would meet them. The ones who threatened to destroy their home and force their people into slavery on some terrible world beyond their reach.

Chance looked into Pryce's eyes and there was no need for words. Even if they had not been selected yet to become Kamen Riders, their duty was no different from those who would soon be chosen.

Chance's fingers tightened around the throttle of his motorcycle as he and Pryce came rushing through the streets side by side. A furious wind blew between them as they drove, cutting across the busy intersection.

Vehicles and buildings flashed beyond his train of vision as he glanced over at Pryce through the visor of his motorcycle helmet. Even through the black of the glass, he could see the determined seriousness in his eyes, and it made Chance smile. He was always the more serious of the two of them. And though Chance's devotion to their cause was just as strong, he could not help but be thrilled by what they had just chosen to do. This was the adventure that he knew he was born to take part in. And he would do it with the man he cared for most.

The roar of their engines almost drowned out the sound of the explosion that rippled its way through the streets. It came in the wake of a powerful burst of energy that burst forth from the clawed fingers of the creature that stepped forth through a screen of thick smoke.

Chance's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of it. He had seen many photographs of the aliens sent against them by Xaviax, but he had never encountered one from such a close distance. The shock of it was so strong that he did not realize what was dropping out of the air within the half-second it took for him to notice the creature.

"LOOK OUT!" Pryce's cries were like a distant memory, barely audible over the sound of flaming metal hurtling through the air. The last explosion was powerful enough to launch an old car off of the ground, sending its burning shell spinning through the air toward the two motorcyclists that had ridden straight into the fray.

With all his strength, Chance yanked at the handlebars of his bike, throwing himself onto one side. He shouted out in horror as he could feel the brunt swipe of the car's side mirror shattering against his shoulder as it flew over his head.

Chance's body slammed against the concrete, his bike disappearing from between his legs as he could only feel the vibrations of the car colliding with the street behind him.

Like awakening from a dark dream, Chance's body jerked slightly as the pain in his shoulder came surging through him. He forced the helmet off of his face just in time to watch as the creature conjured another cloud of energy into its clawed hand, ready to strike.

But just as the alien reached out to fire a shot, its arm was met with a swift kick from Pryce, sending the beam harmlessly into the air. By the time the blast had flown past Chance, the creature was already struck by a frenzy of fists.

Chance coughed out a dry chuckle as he pulled himself to his feet, still gripping the pain in his shoulder as he watched his boyfriend hold his own against the creature. They were doing it. Fighting the good fight. But Chance sucked in a fleeting breath as he watched Pryce's fist snap right into the creature's hand.

The alien let out a ghostly laugh as it twisted Pryce's fist inside its palm. Nothing Pryce had done was damaging it at all. And before Pryce could pull away, the creature had already sent a kick flashing across his face, tossing him into a brick wall in an instant.

"Pryce!" Chance shouted. The pain in Chance's shoulder was suddenly muted as he stomped his way across the street toward the monster, a storm of adrenaline burning through his muscles like lightning. But before he could reach the creature, it's glowing hand was already outstretched, ready to blast the young man into oblivion.

Chance gasped as a lethal beam came shrieking from the monster's fingers toward the barely conscious Pryce. But in a black blur, an armored body dropped out of the sky, its boots crashing into the ground as it landed between Pryce and the oncoming blast.

With the swipe of his blade, the Advent Master deflected the beam away from Pryce as he snapped into a fighting stance. The creature howled in pain as it was struck down by its own attack. Sparks shot forth from its wounded body like fireworks. And before it could recover from the blast, the armored warrior was already standing before it, hurling its weapon into the creature's gut with unearthly strength.

Chance shielded his eyes from the blinding light that burst forth from the explosion that consumed both the Advent Master and his victim. And when the dust began to settle, all that remained was Master Eubulon, standing alone in a circle of crackling flames.

Duty told Chance that he should thank his master for helping them. His heart told him to be the first thing Pryce would see before he opened his eyes again.

"Did we win?" Pryce asked, staring up from his spot on the ground. A patch of dirt smudged his cheek.

"Yeah," Chance said, clearing the dirt away with a gentle thumb. "Yeah, we won."

Chance tried not to show his annoyance as Eubulon immediately approached them before he could even help Pryce stand up again. He tried to offer a hand as Eubulon began to speak, but Pryce had already begun to rise, quickly dusting himself off in the presence of his master.

In an hour, Chance would forget everything Eubulon had said about how honorable it was for them to leap into danger without any regard to their own well being. About how he would take their bravery into consideration when it came time to select candidates for the Advent Decks. About how the future of their race would be in great hands with people such as them.

Chance glanced over at Pryce and was surprised at how calmly he seemed to listen to the master, hanging on every word that came tumbling out of the man's mouth. He seemed perfectly content with what had just happened. And Chance was puzzled as to why he would find himself so bothered. He had rushed into the battle with a massive grin on his face. And he would walk out of it with a solemn frown.

The fact that Eubulon refused Chance's request to heal their injuries only aggravated him further.

"You are not in any imminent danger," Eubulon had said. "Take this opportunity to test your own healing abilities with a true challenge."

Great, Chance thought. Whether or not his boyfriend's bruises were healed would depend on how well he followed the instructions of an alien who refused to do it himself and be done with it. As if he didn't have enough authority figures in his life that he held resentment toward.

The annoyance of it all was enough to remind Chance of the pain in his shoulder and the limp in his step as he walked his bike down the street toward his house, just a few blocks away. Pryce said nothing, but his silence alone was enough to communicate that he was aware of how unsettled Chance was. The two walked their bikes down the street without conversation.

Chance counted himself lucky that his father's work shift would not end for another three hours. Plenty of time to work on Eubulon's damned healing technique and call for Pryce's chauffeur to take them the hell out of there.

A dark, bruised patch of skin across his shoulder greeted Chance as he removed his shirt and sat upon his bed with a sigh.

"So ya gonna tell me what's wrong?" Pryce asked. "Or do I have to guess?"

Chance shut his eyes as he felt the touch of Pryce's fingers dashing along his sensitive skin. Within moments, a warm glow began to emanate from his hands, and a soothing energy trickled through his muscles. Pryce's healing powers were wielded with seemingly no effort. It was only a moment before the pain in his shoulder began to dissipate.

"You're pretty good at this," Chance said, hoping that Pryce wouldn't realize that he was evading the question.

"Thanks. But don't change the subject... What's wrong?"

It was a good question. If only Chance could find an answer. But as Pryce began to peel away his own shirt, revealing a streak of bruises along the side of his torso, Chance's mind seemed to go blank.

"Chance?"

He barely heard him. The sight of Pryce's injury sent the memories of the battle flooding back into his mind. How an entire car had just been thrown right at him. How the man he cared most for was nearly killed, and Chance was unable to save him without help from someone else. Someone who had refused to just heal their damned wounds and let them get on with their lives after what had just happened to them.

Chance placed a hand to the darkened skin at Pryce's side, but when he tried to summon up the energy to heal him, he found that he was unable to. Chance's eyes narrowed in frustration. Pryce had activated his powers almost instantly, healing his shoulder within moments. This was not the first time Chance had practiced this technique. His abilities had always proven equal to Pryce's. But now... Nothing!

"It's not working..."

Chance tried not to grow angry when he noticed the sympathetic look in Pryce's eyes, but he couldn't help it. Too many people in his life would look upon him with those same eyes. Filled with pity and concern. And as much as he appreciated that Pryce might wear such a look out of love, he could not escape the rising frustration at his own embarrassment.

It was bad enough that he had to bring Pryce to this broken-down shack of a house, barely held together with the combined income of his father and himself. But to find himself unable to perform a simple healing spell without even understanding why, and to have Pryce look at Chance as though he felt sorry for him was too much to bear.

But just as Chance began to pull away from his boyfriend, he felt the sudden warmth of Pryce's lips upon him, and all the world seemed to disappeared around them. Chance's eyes drifted closed as Pryce gently nudged him onto his back, deepening the kiss. He let out a quiet moan as their flesh collided, bodies grinding softly against each other.

Pryce was startled by the sudden intake of breath from the man beneath him. They both looked down in surprise as a soft light began to flow from Chance's hand. His fingers glided across the side of Pryce's body, passing over the injured skin.

Chance's eyes widened as he looked up at the sudden loss of control he found in Pryce's face. He could feel it. As a rush of energy passed between their two bodies, he could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. The surge of blood that coursed through his veins. The emotion that came pouring out of him with every kiss, every thrust of his hips into his body.

At last he understood. What had prevented the healing the first time was merely his own fear. The silent fear that he would never have allowed anyone to know. Fear of losing his life in battle. Of losing the one he cared for. It was only then, as the bruised skin beneath his fingers began to vanish, that he truly understood how much he loved this man. And he was determined to communicate it all through the delicacy of his touch.

With a quiet gesture, he directed Pryce's body beside him, so their heads rested at opposite ends of the bed. Chance's fingers carefully pulled forth the stiffening erection from Pryce's jeans, just as his own penis was retrieved by the eager fingers of his boyfriend.

Chance's tongue danced along the length of Pryce's cock as they laid beside each other. He shivered from the sudden brush of hot air that escaped Pryce's lips and tickled his own cock on the other side of the bed. At last, Pryce's lips were wrapped around it, and their two bodies interlocked. Chance found that he could hardly restrain himself, thrusting eagerly into Pryce's mouth. And Pryce took that as an invitation to do some thrusting of his own. The two of them moaned wordlessly into each other's cocks as their bodies twisted along the bed, tangling the blanket beneath them.

Before Chance realized it, there was sweat on his brow, and Pryce's dick was dangling before him as they threw away the last remnants of their clothes before Pryce dove right into a passionate kiss. Chance almost surprised himself with his next words.

"So... You gonna fuck me or what?"

The look on Pryce's face was enough to make Chance grin. This was not their first intimate encounter. But in all the time that they had been together, Chance had never allowed for such a thing to take place. After a time, Pryce must have resigned to the fact that he may never be inside of him. Chance would never have openly admitted how terrified he was to let his boyfriend know him in that way. The way Chance knew Pryce.

Pryce's response was cracked. "Ar--Are you sure?"

Chance did all he could to keep the fear from showing on his face, but as Pryce hovered over him, searching his eyes for any trace of it, he knew that he had failed.

"Well, if you don't want to--" Chance began.

"No... I want to."

The earnestness of Pryce's smile was enough to wash away his fears long enough to slide into position. The wetness of Pryce's erection was a curious sensation against the circle of his entrance as it slowly massaged its way in.

Chance let out a gruff noise at the initial sting, but Pryce was there to kiss it away. Chance's eyes had never been squeezed shut so tightly in his life, as he felt the entire length of Pryce's erection throbbing inside of him. He tried to push away the pain, but it was so great that he was afraid to open his eyes again and see whatever ridiculous reaction Pryce might be having to his discomfort.

But suddenly, Chance felt a strange tingle in the pit of his stomach. The sensation grew stronger as it traveled beneath him, slowly alleviating the pain at his entrance. At long last, as though awakening from a deep slumber, Chance's eyes fluttered open. He looked down to find that the warm glow of Pryce's hand was pressed firmly against the glistening skin of his abdomen. Pryce had activated his healing power.

"Oh my god" was all Chance could say, as a tidal wave of pleasure came crashing down upon him. Pryce's cock had begun thrusting into his prostate, moving faster and more aggressively with every passing moment.

For so long, Chance had wondered what it might feel like to have this. But none of the dreams and fantasies could prepare him for the intensity of it. The total abandonment of rational thought. The look on Pryce's face while he struggled to control himself as he fucked him harder. The way Pryce kissed him with such passion that he thought he might simply die if Pryce wasn't inside of him.

All the while, the glow between Pryce's fingers never faded. Even as his hand trailed along the peeks and valleys of his lover's body, squeezing, pulling. That strange sensation did not leave Chance's body. Instead, it intensified. And Chance wrapped a hand behind the back of Pryce's neck and activated his own power.

"Chance!"

Pryce's slick muscles shimmered under the intensity of the light that flowed from their two hands, joining their spirits, their hearts, their minds together just as closely as their bodies. And every time Pryce's cock thrust into him, Chance would swear that he could hear Pryce's inner voice calling out to him from some dark corner of his mind.

"I love you," Chance cried, though not with words. "Pryce, I love you!"

Chance's orgasm took him by surprise. By the time he realized what was happening, his chest was already showered with a splash of white from the head of his cock. The sight of it was enough to force Pryce over the edge, barely able to pull himself free in time to grab hold of himself, stroking out the first burst from his erection.

Chance did not even notice when Pryce's body had collapsed on top of him. The glow had finally dissipated from their hands. He suddenly realized why Eubulon had taught them to only use the healing technique when absolutely necessary. Because Chance was so exhausted that, if he fell asleep then, he felt as though he might never wake up...

The sound of Mr. Leery's fist on the front door was like a rifle being shot across the room. Chance's eyes darted open from the sudden jolt of it echoing through the house, forcing the two of them out of a deep slumber.

"Fuck!" Chance let out, quickly sliding out of Pryce's arms, ignoring the sticky sensation all along the front of his body. "Get dressed," he said, trying to hide the cocktail of nervousness and anger swelling in the pit of his gut.

By the time he had thrown his clothes on, he was halfway through the house, shaky hands still fiddling with the front of his jeans before reaching the door. He did not look back, but he could feel Pryce's aura as he followed closely behind him, and his presence would not make this any easier.

"Why the hell is the door locked?!" was the first thing Pryce would hear from Chance's father, even before Chance could grip the doorknob.

The door did not open under Chance's own power. It was forced open with Mr. Leery's calloused fist the moment Chance had twisted the doorknob. Pryce nearly jumped as the old wooden door swung past his face, sending a gust of air into the room.

"It's always locked!" Chance shouted back. "Why the hell didn't you bring your key with you when you left?!"

Chance refused to look at Pryce. It was the first time he had met his father up close, and was certain that he did not expect to hear Chance speak this way. But where Mr. Leery was concerned, there was no other way to deal with him.

"I don't have to bring my keys. I live here!"

Chance's teeth ground behind his lips as he took in the sight of his father, needing to lean against the side of the doorway just to stay upright, having clearly gotten himself drunk somewhere between work and home. The evidence of it spat out of his half-shaven jaw with every word he hollered at him.

"Who the fuck is this?" Mr. Leery asked, throwing a scowl at Pryce.

"It's my friend, Pryce," Chance said, finally glancing back at him. And the expression on Pryce's face was crushing. He looked trapped. It seemed to take everything he had to thrust his hand forward, offering a handshake.

"Uh, hi! It's.. nice to finally meet you." He forced a polite smile across his lips. One that was far too friendly and soft for Chance to expect a positive reaction from his father.

Mr. Leery returned Pryce's greeting with another scowl, looking him up and down as if to analyze his appearance. The audacity, he must have thought, that he would offer a handshake after coming into his house uninvited, even after Mr. Leery had expressly forbidden Chance from bringing anyone into that house without his say-so. Undoubtedly because the man didn't want anyone to find him in the sorry state he was in now.

"I told you," he said, ignoring Pryce's hand as it lingered shakily in the air. "You don't bring over company unless I tell you to. Get this faggot outta my house."

Mr. Leery practically slammed into Chance's shoulder as he stomped right past him, pulling a small flask from his jacket, ready to have another drink. Chance didn't realize it, but he had just started to hold his own breath. His head slowly turned back toward the man that was now ignoring his presence there at the doorway. He had just gone too far.

Chance could feel Pryce's hand around his arm, lightly tugging at him to join him outside. To leave this sorry old man to himself and spend the night at Pryce's house. Chance wished he could have just let it go. That he could be like Pryce and just shake his head and walk away. But he had already done so much walking away that he felt he might forget how to do anything else. His father could say whatever he wanted about him. But no one, father or not, would say those things about Pryce.

Mr. Leery could barely turn around fast enough to see Chance's fist as it smashed into his face. The man dropped to the floor, his flask slipping out of his hand as he fell on his backside, head cracking against the wall. Whatever was in the flask was now staining the old carpet beneath them as Chance stood over his father, knuckles red and trembling.

"Chance!" Pryce shouted from behind. For a moment, he wasn't even there to him. His eyes remained fixed upon the stunned look over his father's face as he looked up at his son in a mix of guilt and drunken rage.

"Don't you EVER talk about him like that!" Chance shouted. He felt as though his lungs were on fire as the words shot out of him.

"Chance, come on!"

And finally, Chance could hear him again. He turned away from the old fool and blasted his way right by Pryce's uncertain gaze as they exited the house, slamming the door behind them.

"Are you all right?" Pryce asked. If his voice had been any gentler, Chance would not have recognized it. And he found that he did not care for such a tone.

"Fine!" Chance practically yelled, marching down the street far faster than Pryce was accustomed to walking. He could hear his footsteps struggling to keep up just behind him. In some ways, his presence made it worse.

Arguments with his father had gotten physical before, but only after Mr. Leery had thrown the first swing, and even then Chance would never strike him directly. But the moment he spoke those words about Pryce, Chance found that he was simply unable to control himself.

Perhaps, Chance thought, some of his anger came from the simple fact that he knew he had almost been caught completely naked in bed with another man, his relationship with whom he had hardly shared with anyone yet. Maybe it was the fact that his father still did not know that side of him. And as much as he hated him for becoming a drunk, and shirking his responsibilities as a father, Chance couldn't deny that he still wanted him to be apart of his life. To know who his son was. And to be proud of him. But it seemed such a thing would never be possible. Particularly now, after what he had done.

"Look," Chance blurted out. "I'll see you later, okay? I'm just gonna take a walk for a while."

Pryce had a look that suggested he knew this was a terrible idea.

"Chance, come on. I'm not gonna let you spend the night in the park or something."

"I told you, I hate when you do that."

"Do what?!" Now it was Pryce's turn to shout. "Care about you?! I'm sorry, Chance, but I can't help that."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant, and it's not fair. You don't want to talk now, that's fine. We can just go back and get something to eat, or just go to bed if you want. But there's no way I'm gonna let you go off alone like this. I..."

Pryce's eyes trembled. He looked upon Chance with such an unreachable pain, uncertain if he would be any use in helping him, but desperately wanting to try. And Chance suddenly felt horrible for ever being angry at Pryce simply for caring.

Chance threw his arms around Pryce and kissed his cheek. It was all he could do...

Chance took a deep breath as he stepped into the locker room, unable to slow the rapid pace of his heart rate. It had been like this ever since Pryce had come back into his life.

Those few short months had passed like years, as Chance took up the duties of Kamen Rider Torque, fighting alongside his new comrades in the war against Xaviax. Watching as Master Eubulon denied Pryce the opportunity to serve with them was among the hardest things he ever had to witness. It had not only been the end of Pryce's dreams, but the end of a friendship that had sustained them both through difficult times. In the interim, Chance had made new friends, and even grown closer with another, though he could never shake the memory of the one that stood before the mirror of the locker room now.

Pryce stood tall as he zipped up his jacket uniform, the snake insignia of Kamen Rider Strike hanging over his heart. He looked into it with pride, and perhaps a hint of nervousness. Neither of them had expected to hear that the first man selected to become Strike was killed, and that Pryce would be recalled back into the fight.

Chance stared at the back of his head long enough that he was certain Pryce knew he was there. But he couldn't find the right words to fit such an occasion. They had both agreed to move on. That it was the best for each of them, to remain "unattached" as they rode out this war, and whatever might come after it. Chance felt as though he had called him "lover" for so long, he had forgotten how to be a friend instead.

"Looks good on you," he said at last. And he thanked goodness that he was able to force it out with a bit of charm. "Almost as good as me."

Pryce turned slowly, a half-smile curled over his face. "Thanks. Though I wish it was under better circumstances. Me coming back."

"Forget about that," Chance scoffed. "You and I both know this is what you deserved all along. It was a huge mistake to let you go."

Now he'd done it. An uncomfortable silence fell between them as Chance suddenly realized what he had just said. "It was a huge mistake to let you go."

Pryce's eyes drifted aimlessly along the walls of the locker room, uncertain of what to do or say in response.

"I-I meant Eubulon," Chance stammered. "Not choosing you from the start."

"Oh," Pryce said. "Right, of course."

The smile that returned to Pryce's face was enough for Chance to shirk his discomfort. He startled the man by slapping a hand against his shoulder and pulling him along.

"C'mon, I want you to meet some people."

Chance smirked as he glanced over to his friend. Their faces were inches apart. And Chance would have kissed him if he knew it wouldn't make things incredibly awkward between them. But it didn't matter now. They were together again. And if he had to choose between having Pryce as a friend, or not having him at all, then he would force himself to learn how to be a friend again.

"You don't have to do this, you know."

Pryce's voice was one of concern. He glanced at his friend with a cautious eye as he stared up at the old house on East Street. It looked identical to the last time Chance had been there, several months earlier.

"Yes I do," Chance replied calmly. He straightened his Rider jacket and took a deep breath.

He couldn't even remember the most recent conversation he had had with his father. It wasn't a certainty that Mr. Leery was even aware of what his son had been doing all this time. Fighting Xaviax alongside Pryce and the other Riders. But he felt it was time to let him know. Even if he was still a drunk, and he would hardly remember a word he said. Even if he called him some terrible name and denounced him. The least this would do was give Chance some semblance of peace with his family life. Because Chance knew that, no matter what his father's reaction, he had overcome whatever hardship his life had thrown at him. Mr. Leery didn't need to be proud of him. He was proud enough for himself.

"Here we go," Chance said, taking the first steps toward the house. He glanced back to roll his eyes with Pryce as the familiar sound of broken dishes against the floor began to ring out. "Same ole dad..."

But suddenly, the noise grew louder. A massive thud. Chance could hear his father's voice, more strained than he'd ever known it. Without looking back to Pryce, Chance bolted to the door, almost knocking it down as he ran through it.

Chance's eyes widened in surprise. Mr. Leery was on the ground, a red mess trickling from his nose as one of five creatures lurched toward him from behind, mangled hands outstretched. Xaviax's forces had come for him. Just as they had come for hundreds of others all across the planet, for some terrible, unknown purpose. And now it was Mr. Leery's turn.

The man looked up at him with desperate eyes, shocked beyond belief to see that his son had returned to him, and at such a time. Four of the creatures rushed across the room, hurling themselves at the two men.

Chance ripped the Advent Deck from his jacket and thrust it forward.

"Kamen Rider!" Chance shouted. And as he locked the deck into place, a surge of energy erupted from his body, instantly blasting his enemies in every direction before they could touch him.

Terrible screams echoed through the house as their smoking bodies were slammed against the walls, sparks bursting from devastating injuries. Mr. Leery peered through the screen of ash in the air, watching in astonishment as his son was sheathed in the green armor of Kamen Rider Torque, and his friend was transformed into the violet Kamen Rider Strike.

Mr. Leery was about to cry out to warn his son that a creature had appeared just behind him, but an armored fist came blasting its way into the creature's jaw before he could speak a word.

In a blur of green and purple, the Riders made quick work of the four beasts that stood between them and Chance's father. But the man was startled to feel the grip of the fifth monster locking its jagged fingers around his throat and dragging him toward the mirror along the far wall.

Chance looked back through his visor as the creature began to step through a portal generated by the warped glass of the mirror. He was pulling his father inside!

A furious "No!" escaped Chance's lips as he sent a tornado kick smacking into an enemy's chest, launching him through the window at his side. With all the strength his legs could muster, Kamen Rider Torque dashed across the room, charging toward the monster stepping into the portal.

By the time Chance approached, he could only see half of his father's face from beyond the portal, as a desperate, calloused hand reached out to him. With a venomous shriek, the creature slashed its scaled arm around the man's body and ripped him away.

Chance's hand touched the tip of his father's fingers for a mere instant before they disappeared behind the mirror. And just before he could reach further in, he felt the overpowering body of another monster slamming into his side, tackling him to the ground.

"NO!" he cried. But it was far too late. By the time Strike's snake staff had stabbed into the creature's back, his father would be long gone. Chance just laid there as the monster's face was scattered into the air, vaporized under the strain of Strike's power. Every enemy had been destroyed, except for the one that mattered. The one that was dragging his father off to some unknown world that he could never imagine.

"Chance," Pryce said as a wave of light swept away his armor. "I... I'm so sorry."

Chance said nothing. He just laid there on the ground, his look of confusion hidden behind the cold, unfeeling mask of Kamen Rider Torque.

"Are-Are you all right?"

Chance's eyes fluttered open as his senses came flooding back to him out of the darkness. All he was able to hear from his friend were the words "all right" and his mind filled in the rest.

Curtains of warm mist passed through him as he took Pryce's hand and allowed himself to be pulled forth from the hypersleep chamber. Chance coughed lightly as he came to grips with what he had just been through. He turned and stared at the empty cylinder that had been his home for five years, hardly able to believe it all after the deep sleep he had just awoken from.

To him, it felt like mere hours. But between the time he had closed his eyes and the time he opened them again, half a decade had passed on Ventara. It was the pact he and his fellow Riders made after the Advent Master was reported missing. Rumors surfaced of the defeat of Xaviax, but his minions still stalked the empty streets of their home, and without Eubulon, the Riders were lost. Nearly all other Ventarans had been taken, and there seemed to be no other alternative but to sleep, and hope that one day he might return.

Pryce answered his first question before he could even ask.

"We still haven't found him," he said solemnly. "It's been five years... Those things are still out there. Fewer in numbers, but still hard to kill."

"Are you okay?" Chance asked. He was still struggling to maintain a sense of balance. The dream he had just awoken from had felt alarmingly real.

"Fine." It sounded as though the word was being forced out of him. Chance tried to hide the sorrow in his heart as he realized how different Pryce had become. His appearance was the same, but spending an entire year alone on this planet, thinking only of fighting, had clearly damaged him in some way. Perhaps someone else might not notice the way Pryce turned away, almost ashamed of himself, but Chance could see it easily.

"Hey," Chance said softly, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. Clouds of warm mist flowed gently around them. Under the faint lights that hung from above, Pryce looked beautiful. Even after all that had happened, the sight of the man still stirred him.

Pryce looked over to him, his eyes frightened about what might happen between them if they were weak enough to allow it. Chase pulled himself closer, their foreheads connecting as they stood next to the chamber wall.

Pryce opened his mouth to speak.

"I know," Chance said. "You'll be asleep soon. We have a mission... But for now... Just let it go. Please."

"But what does this mean?" Pryce let out. "Are we--"

Chance smothered his words with a passionate kiss. He could not bear to think of the consequences. To drudge up an answer to such an impossible question. He did not know what the future held for either of them. If there was ever a way to truly be together again, not just as friends, but as what they were before this war began. It was more likely that they would never embrace this way again. Whether separated by death, or duty, or by the unexpected touch of their hearts from another, they both knew that this may be the end. And while his lips were upon him, Chance simply refused to care.

The zipper of Chance's jacket came hissing down his chest as it was torn off of him. Frantic fingers unclasped his belt and before he knew what was happening, his stiffening cock had come thrusting out of the front of his pants. Chance gasped from the sudden wetness of Pryce's mouth diving around his erection, drawing him in with light suction.

Chance's fingers curled themselves into Pryce's dark hair as he sucked his cock, moaning lightly from the familiar taste of his flesh against the eagerness of the man's tongue. He had waited far too long for this.

As Pryce continued, Chance did his best to block out the remaining images from the dream he had just awoken from. Those terrible flashes of his father, chained to some awful, rusted contraption, his tortured screams echoing into an uncaring well of darkness. Chance let out a noise that Pryce had never heard before.

Before Pryce could look up, Chance's lips had already dropped down onto his own, jabbing his tongue into his mouth with ferocious affection. He lifted Pryce onto his feet, only to guide him down into the soft mattress of the hypersleep chamber a moment later, sliding the jeans from around his ass.

Pryce stretched out onto his stomach, his pants still tangled around his ankles as the weight of Chance's body fell over him. He turned back to join his lips with Chance once again, kissing away any discomfort as Chance's cock slowly pushed into his hole.

Pryce panted loudly as Chance began to thrust deeper, faster, harder. It was a struggle for Chance to decide whether to shut his eyes and give himself over to the unrelenting pleasure, or to keep them open and memorize the sight of the man he loved, crying out his name as he fucked him, perhaps for the last time.

"Chance," Pryce breathed, gripping the rim of the hypersleep chamber. The way his name shivered out of him was enough to transmit a thousand emotions. How much he had wanted, and needed to be touched all this time, but was terrified of the consequences, which he knew from experience to be dire. It was a fear that Chance shared. But his need for the man beneath him was just as great. Hell, it was even greater.

"Fuck!" Chance cried as he pounded his old friend, a wave of mist passing over their sweat-soaked bodies.

"Inside me," Pryce ventured, abandoning all his inhibitions. "I want you to... inside me!"

Chance could no longer prevent the surge of pleasure from erupting. He thrust himself deep into Pryce's hole, his cock bursting with hot fluid on the final thrust.

Chance let out the longest sigh of his life as his head lowered next to Pryce's, overtaken by exhaustion. It was only then that he realized where they had been lying. On the bed that Chance had slept frozen inside for the last five years. He shut his eyes and wished that they could stay there together for another five years, shutting off whatever remained of the world beyond the walls of that chamber.

But after an hour of hands, and lips, and warmth, Chance knew that eventually he would have to rise from the bed, and leave his friend behind. They would spend the next two days together as the world stood still around them, before duty forced them to return to the chamber to say goodbye.

"See ya," Chance said casually as he laid Pryce's head down into the bed. Pryce smiled as though he knew what he really meant to say.

"Hopefully, the next time I see you, it'll be with Master Eubulon," Pryce said.

Chance never cried. But it took everything he had to hold back his tears upon hearing Pryce's words. Because he knew how unlikely it was that he would ever see Eubulon again. And that, for all Chance knew, his own life might be claimed three days from then by some monster that got lucky and caught him at the wrong time, robbing him of the chance to see Pryce's smile again.

Chance wanted nothing more than to reach down for one last kiss, but there was no way he could do that without collapsing right in front of him.

"Later, Pryce."

A trembling hand tumbled its way over a control console and Chance watched as the metal cylinder wrapped itself shut. A quiet wave of light passed over Pryce's face, guiding him into a peaceful slumber.

Chance's knees buckled the moment Pryce's eyes were closed.

"Warning. Warning. System. Overload. Emergency. Override. Activated. Activ-Activ-Activ--"

A crimson flash blasted its way past Chance's eyes as he was ripped back into consciousness, gasping for air amid the shadows of the hypersleep chamber. He felt as though he had just laid back into the bed to sleep, leaving another Rider to take his place for the next year.

But something was wrong. The automated voice of the computer system was echoing in his ears, endlessly repeating the same warning about an overload. Chance's hands slapped against the clear pane of glass that enclosed him within the chamber. A fit of panic flushed through him as he realized the cylinder was not opening, and a noxious gas had begun flowing into the chamber from some unseen broken valve. Red emergency lights clouded his vision as he beat his fist against the glass with no success.

"HEY!!!"

If anyone could hear him, they would not respond for over two minutes. In the meantime, he could hear the muffled sound of explosions rippling through the room. The faint echo of a man's scream could be heard, and through the frenzy of noise, Chance could not be certain whose voice it was.

Suddenly, a dark figure emerged from the darkness beyond the glass, red eyes staring emotionlessly. It was him.

"Xaviax!"

The last thing he saw before his body began to dissolve was the blinding light of the flames that covered his chamber. The failsafe in his Advent Deck had just been activated. Before he even had the chance to fight back, he was vented into the Advent Void. Chance shut his vanishing eyes and would have sighed if he still had the lungs to do so. He was about to trade one living death for another...

Chance's eyes shot open as the air was forced back into his lungs. He coughed hoarsely from the sudden rush of sensation that chattered through his bones. He was alive. He was free!

With blurred vision, Chance looked around him to find that he had been dropped onto the concrete of an unfamiliar street alley. Looking to his left, he could see the strange whirlpool of energy from the portal closing inside the broken window on the wall. Turning to his right, Chance gripped the pain in his head as he caught his first glimpse of the three that sat up next to him.

Master Eubulon began to rise, gesturing to help up one of his Riders, known to them as Hunt. The remaining Rider looked around him in confusion, until his gaze fell upon Chance, and a smile crept over his face.

"What up," Chance said, smirking at his old friend.

"Hey," Pryce replied.

Neither of them could have believed it, but the impossible had just happened. After sixty years, Master Eubulon had been found. And with his powers, he was able to bring forth the vented Riders back from the Advent Void- that terrible, empty place beyond the reach of all others.

And from the sound of Eubulon's voice as he addressed them, it seemed their strength would be needed once again. Pryce and Chance both nodded silently as they stood up to greet their old master. Ready to face whatever peril the next stage of their journey would send them into. It was time for Kamen Rider Torque and Kamen Rider Strike to fight side-by-side once again, as partners in battle.

Chance's eyes squinted briefly from the glow of the overhead lights that hung from the ceiling of the government base. It was nothing like the command center Eubulon had set up for the Riders all those years ago, but he tried his best to push aside such memories. He feared that, once he started to remember the past, he would not be able to stop the emotions that came along with them.

The first person he saw was Trent, rushing frantically to find an exit, or a phone, or something to stop whatever he thought Chance and his friends might be as they stepped through the portal into the base.

Eubulon's appearance calmed the young man, only long enough for another to enter the room with an even stronger reaction. Chance caught the look in Pryce's eye as soon as she entered the room, thrusting her Advent Deck into the air, ready to attack them.

Her name was Maya, and she was beautiful.

Before she could transform, a familiar hand was raised to stop her. Chance didn't know Len as well as most of the other Riders, but his was the first face Chance recognized outside of the three that came with him from the Advent Void. He held back the full intensity of his emotions as he bumped fists with the man. It wasn't the sight of Len himself, but rather, the fact that he was someone Chance knew before the war. Before the twelve-year slumber, and the one-year battle alone on Ventara, and the sixty-year gap that separated him from the entire rest of the universe. Chance found himself overwhelmed.

"It's a pleasure, Maya."

Pryce politely extended a hand to shake. Chance didn't know what to think as he realized Maya was not accepting the handshake. There was something about the way Pryce said those words. "It's a pleasure." He seemed so calm, all of the sudden.

They would understand later that Maya had known a man with an identical appearance to Pryce- a double from the alternate reality they had found themselves living in. A place called Earth, where time passed differently than on Ventara. While the people of Chance's world suffered a war over sixty years ago, their so-called Mirror Twins had only just begun their lives. Chance found the concept of another man running around with his face unsettling. But it was even stranger to watch as his friend began to grow closer to the Rider from Earth.

Chance did his best to be thankful for the gift of life he had been given. While everyone he'd ever known had lived a lifetime of slavery and perished on some distant planet, he and the Riders were alive, and were needed again. But he could not escape the thought that Pryce's attention had been ensnared by another.

"I'm sorry," Chance said as he bumped into Maya in the empty corridor at night. It was hard to admit even to himself that he was angry. They had spent the last two weeks fighting countless battles, and every operation they returned from was another opportunity for Pryce's fascination with this woman to grow.

"No, I should have been paying more attention," Maya said, somewhat timidly.

She began to walk by when Chance blurted out the words "Hey, wait." He couldn't decide if he saw hatred in Maya's eyes, or fear.

"Listen," Chance began, not having a clue what else he was going to say. "I think you should know that my friend... He's kinda into you."

Maya's eyes narrowed, curiously but cautiously, as Chance continued.

"I know you think he's a scumbag or something because of his Twin, but he's really--"

"No," Maya interrupted. "I... I know he's not the same person. But this isn't really the time to start up a romance."

Her words almost snapped out at him. She was angry too. And tired. And most importantly, she was correct. While the enemy was still on the loose, threatening to steal away another world, Chance had no business concerning himself with such matters. But he felt as though, whatever it was he was trying to say, he might never have the opportunity to speak it again.

"You're right," Chance said. "But I just want you to understand... that Pryce is the most loyal, honorable guy I've ever known. And if he likes you, then it must mean he sees a lotta strength in you. And believe me, I know how good he is at bringing that out of people."

Maya looked at him as though she sensed there was something more Chance was trying to communicate. A connection that went deeper than friendship, that might have faded a much longer time ago than Chance had realized.

"I... haven't talked to him about this," Chance continued. "But take it from me. If he wants to be apart of your life, you'd be crazy not to let him in."

Chance was uncertain of how Maya would accept what he was trying to say, but he left her with a friendly hand on her shoulder. He prayed that she didn't feel him shaking as he pulled away and walked off.

What the fuck did you just do? he asked himself as he inched his way down the corridor. It would take him far longer than he imagined to find an answer.

"Link Vent."

Torque activated his Advent Card, initiating the final attack. He looked around him in awe at the sight of all twelve Kamen Riders standing together for the first time in over seven decades. Glancing to the other side of the room, he saw Kamen Rider Strike, and beyond him was Maya. Somehow, she had managed to infiltrate the enemy base without the use of her Rider powers- a feat few others could have achieved. Chance smirked behind his visor.

The vibration from Torque's Advent Deck grew stronger as he realized the combined power of all the Riders had slowly begun to course through him. In a storm of energy, a bright light shot down from the heavens.

Chance lifted his hand and grasped tightly to the bolt of power that reached out to him from above, instantly linking his mind, and spirit to the other Riders. He looked upon his enemy with determined eyes.

The smug Xaviax stood before the Riders, seemingly undaunted by the warriors that had come for him. To finish the war that had started several lifetimes ago, before any of them knew what it would cost them to arrive at this moment.

For a brief time, as his spirit was intermingled with those of the others, he could hear their voices pass through his thoughts- see into the currents of memory that rose up from the darkest corners of their minds as they channeled every last ounce of strength for this attack. And somewhere in the frenzy, Chance could feel Pryce's heart racing in his chest. He was nervous that this may not work. That he might lose his friends. Chance. Len... And Maya.

Chance made a silent vow, just as their power reached its apex, that he would never allow Pryce's love to be threatened, whether such love was reserved for himself, or for anyone else.

At long last, the Riders pooled all their power and fired it at the creature before them. Chance stood tall as the memories of his friends, his world, Pryce's family, Chance's own father, flashed through him, crying out for justice. It gave him the strength to push forth one final burst of energy toward the creature that had taken it all away from him.

Xaviax let out a terrible cry, and his image disappeared within the furious explosion that swept across the room. Chance struggled to catch his breath as he looked up in astonishment. After all this time, it had finally happened. Xaviax was defeated.

Chance's armor disappeared in a wave of light, and his arms were thrown around his comrades as a celebratory round of congratulations began. As he hugged an old ally, he could see Pryce at the other end of the room, stepping over toward Maya.

Chance would never know what words were exchanged between them, but it was clear that Maya was no longer angry with him. Pryce glanced up and noticed Chance from across the room. Chance smiled and nodded contently.

It was only then that he realized why he had started that conversation with Maya in the corridor that night. Because he knew that it was time to let Pryce go. Because, if he had tried to stand in the way of Maya's affections, he would not be the man that Pryce had loved all those years. And that would hurt Chance more than knowing that his time with Pryce had ended.

"She's cute," Chance said, catching Pryce alone outside the base a few hours later.

"Yes," Pryce agreed, somewhat nervously. "She is."

Chance kept the appropriate distance away, though a tiny voice inside was screaming at him for betraying his lesser nature.

"Who knows," Chance said. "Maybe she'll end up being The One."

Pryce smirked. "I think it's a little early to be thinking about that, don't you?"

Chance returned his sarcastic expression with one of his own.

"Maybe... Well, whatever happens, I'm happy for you."

Pryce looked as though he wasn't sure how to react to that. "Are you?" His eyes contained just the faintest trace of sadness. Like an old memory had surfaced, but just barely enough for it to matter. Chance paused for a moment as he searched for an answer.

"... Yeah. Yeah, I am. You deserve it... Just one thing though."

"What?"

"If I'm not the best man at your wedding, I will hunt you down and kill you."

Chance chuckled as his friend rolled his eyes. He gave him a hearty whack on the shoulder as he walked by, with Pryce quickly following along toward the others. They were waiting for everyone to be gathered together. To ride...

The older man's fingers scanned across the old desk full of books, looking for the right one. It seemed he would never find that book that he must have lost years ago, but continued looking for in the same spot, expecting that it would somehow reappear there.

The man jumped slightly at the sound of Chance's knuckles against the open doorway of the house.

"He-Hello?" Chance stammered. He could hardly believe the sight of the man when he turned around to face him, standing in the front door. "Mr. Lansing?"

"That's me," the old man said. Chance's jaw almost dropped. Even the sound of his voice was the same. And as he began to walk closer, his appearance was strikingly similar. In a physical sense, Mr. Lansing was a perfect double for the man he had lost so long ago. His father's Mirror Twin.

"Is... Is that you, Drew?" the man asked, a wide grin appearing on his face.

"No," Chance replied, regretfully. Some part of Chance wished that he could be Drew, whoever that version of him might have been. But whether he was his real son or not, there was no mistaking the look in his eye. This man was his father. "My name is Chance Leery... I just wanted to say... hello."

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