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There is a lost bit of highway somewhere in Tennessee. Not too many cruise along its old cracked surface anymore. And nobody wants to. Especially since there are better ways to go these days.

But there are some who live there. Run aways mostly. Those who abandoned the society they once knew and headed out to no man's land.

The highway runs in a general north-south direction. It is a divider if one knew the sorts that lived there. Two gangs on the east and west sides. They don't really have names.

Though the two gangs are rivals, fighting for complete control of both sides, anything can happen in this crazy existence.

Both sides are slummy. Probably bits of old towns that were left to rot for who knew what reasons.

The West calls an old warehouse on their side as their base. It's rather large and sits about a half mile from the highway. Some of the members that haven't found lodging elsewhere in the slum live within.

The East has taken up their base in an old rundown motel. It isn't exactly paradise but just as the West, some do live within amongst the roaches and rats.


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>>A hop, a skip, a huge splash in a deep puddle. Kriss adored this stormy weather. Never mind the fantastical realm of his own existance! Storms were one of the few things that could keep Kriss in tune with the reality surrounding him at three sixty. Lighning flashed illuminating his eyes an eerie violet tint as a slow smirk crossed his face. He saw something he liked up ahead and decided it was play time.

Skulking up the street he kept to the shadows mostly. He wanted to sneak upon his prey so he could have the better end of this deal in the end of the little game. Yes, of course this was a game. Everything to Spill was. He was sneaking up on nothing other than a rather soggy white feline sitting on a stone step. Being very cat like himself it was simple. Closer. Closer. With a mock hiss, Kriss pounced at the poor kitty and tumbled down the steps with the cat. Dumb thing only purred because it was being held.

"Oi meow...you are mine now. Try to run and it'll be ka-pow!" he said, making a pretend gun with his fingers and pretending to shoot the cat. Stupid thing only pawed at the hand, not even knowing what had been said.

A door on the top of the steps suddenly opened and an older looking woman stepped out. She had a scowl on her face as she eyed Kriss with disgust. "Git out of here, scoundrel!" the woman ordered. Gladly, Spill stood and turned to leave, still holding the furry feline. "And give me back my cat!" the woman ordered again as the kitty leaped from Kriss' arms, running toward the house. Damn thing, he didn't need it anyway.

Bored and in dire need of something else to do, Spill walked onward as far from the house as he could get. It wasn't long before he found himself at a diner and he pushed his way into the building. Not a fancy place at all, especially considering it was on the rich side of the tracks. All on his way to the counter he was making trouble. He stole a man's toupee and dropped it onto a blind man's dog. Knocked over a salt shaker purposely, making it look accidental and making a huge mess of salt mixed with glass. Purposely tripped and nearly missed a fine young girl's lap. Kicked over a chair. It was about time he flopped onto a stool at the counter. Everyone in the diner had their eyes on him. Gosh that game had been fun!

Grabbing a menu from a basket nearby, Kriss thumbed through it. Of course, he was only looking at the scrumptious pictures. He never learned how to read and never planed to. "What can I git ja, han'some?" an obviously Southern female voice asked before Kriss could even finish looking. He looked up to see the source and was he ever surprised. Heck this girl was h-o-t, HOT! "That depends...can I have you here or to go?" he said to her with a smirk. Ouch, that got him a swat in the face. "I didn't mean that!" he said in defense.

In the end he ordered a simple piece of apple pie. So much for having some kinky fun. Picking at the pastry with his fork, he rested his chin on his free upraised hand. A quick glance outdoors and he decided to get moving. Shoveling the pie into his face, he left without even paying. He didn't have any money. What were they going to do? Send cops after him for eating a piece of pie?

Spill skipped up the street without even a glance back to the diner. His hunger was satisfied so it was time to move on to the next endeavor. Finding someone he could pick on for his own twisted amusement.<<

>>What was that? Another furry feline to play with? Kriss Kross knew that he heard someone or something in the alley he had now stopped in front of. Yes, it was the sound that caused him to stop. And now that he was parked in one spot, the rain actually was causing his normal floof of hair to mat to his face limply and wetly.

He turned toward the alley and pulled a strand of wet dark hair front his face with two fingers, straining his eyes to see into the dark who or what was there. But there was no use. The lightning had flashed only seconds before, knocking out the lights because it had been so bright. Which meant that until the dumb electrical things realized it was still night, the streets were bathed in black.

"Uh...someone there?" he called out at last, glancing over his shoulder right after, looking to see if anything else might have caused the sound. But there was nothing but himself and whatever was in the alley. "He-hellooooo?" he called after a second, crossing his arms on his chest and shivering some, which was what caused the stutter. Rain was cold on bare arms this time of year!<<

>>Spill's mouth curled into a sly smirk as he heard the voice of the other reply. But why was he hiding? Didn't he want to come out and play? Kriss stepped closer to the wall, leaning beside the opening to the alley and lightly curling his fingers around the edge.

As he lowered his gaze to the wet ground, watching rain drain into the sewers, the lights flickered back on. But he still didn't see who he was speaking to, only because of his position. "I don't bite you know..." he said, looking in the direction of the alley entrance. But he couldn't see into it at all. "Alleys are places for stalkers and rapists....are ya gonna rape me?" he asked excitedly. Spill liked when people tried to. Because they usually got the tables turned then died very messily.<<

>>Spill wriggled away to turn and face the other. He wanted to see who it was. Unlike Loki, he couldn't go just on voices. none of that "Sounds like its" bullshit. And his grin widened some when he spotted the male. Of course he recognized him. Which made the moment so much more tasty and fun.

Kriss Kross pushed the other with one rough shove into the opposing wall. "But you were in the alley first, ickle Westie..." he teased with a low tone and creepy grin. So much better than a cat to tinker with. Only because he knew that it could get them in trouble. And "Trouble" was Spill's middle name. Theoretically. "Do you want to be raped ickle Westie? I could go easy on ya so there's not as much blood..." he went on teasing, dragging a finger on the male's cheek.<<

>>Better place? What place could be better than out in the streets with the cool rain on your body while ya did the deed? Yes, Spill was a bit of an exhibitionist. And there was the thrills of the chances to add to the excitement. What better place could there be than right there on the sidewalk?

"I think right here is fine..." he purred into the other's ear, nipping it a little with his sharpened teeth afterward. He then pulled back once more, digging his fingernails into the male's shoulders as he held on. "And what should I call you then, Westie?" he asked. A name would be better to have than such a silly nickname for one purpose. And that purpose was an obvious one.<<

>>Kriss laughed some. His cattish grin had returned as he watched the other. So much fun. "Well, Tey-Tey...you're too easy." he teased.

Spill leaned closer again and stole himself a kiss, nipping at Trey's jaw when he broke it. And he still had his crazy grin on his face. As if it was permastuck. Then again, it had been forever since Kriss Kross played with anything but his toys. And they weren't human toys either. All of those "broke" and he had to toss them away in the river.

Kriss scraped his fingernails down Trey's chest, grinning up at his face. "Bet I can make ya c** without even takin my pants off." he challenged, just to tease some more. Who could blame him? Spill was just a natural big tease.<<

>>Kriss laughed a little again, cut off by the kiss. He knew he was going to have fun. Lots of it. But he was cut off by the kiss. And yes, he did kiss back. Kriss Kross pressed his tongue into Trey's mouth and tangled it with Trey's. It was a good long moment before he finally pulled away, leaving a messy string of slobber which he wiped from his face with a wet arm.

"Heh...we'll see." he said with a sly little smirk. It all depended on one thing. How long Trey could last. For a couple reasons, Spill doubted they would even have sex. He simply didn't think that Trey would last until then.

Kriss rested one hand on Trey's shoulder, using his other to rub and squeeze between the other's legs. "Think you can hold off that long, Tey-Tey?" he asked in a low tone. Though he froze for a moment, looking out to the street as a car passed. Thankfully not a police car. But Spill did pull away some and yanked Trey further into the alley just in case.

He leaned back against the wall once they were better hidden, spreading his legs apart just enough to pull Trey between them and plant another steamy kiss on his lips, tangling their tongues once more.<<