Knight and Malcolm come from two very different worlds, yet both are inexplicably drawn to each other. This is a chronicle of their adventures, in Paragon and Millennium City, and beyond. Gay romance, mature themes, lots of swearing.
Knight rode the Fat Boy into the Chinatown section of Paragon City. He handled the motorcycle with practiced ease, weaving gently in and out of congested traffic, pausing for pedestrians, avoiding the crowds of people at the market place. He was looking for something in particular.
His long blond hair was free, and he wore sunglasses against anything that might kick up the from the road into his face. The face was not quite chiseled, but not quite soft, either. It was a face that could easily break out into a grin of happiness or mischief. It could also turn serious, and when it did, it was a good idea to get out of his way.
His muscles bunched under the leather jacket, turning the bike while he went up and down streets, whipping around and going down streets more than once. His thick legs wrapped in leather gripped the bike as he made sharp turns to turn around in tight quarters.
Mabe they lied, he thought. Maybe it was an urban legend. They wouldn't have known that I would have taken them seriously at this...
At the Mists-Cynagua War, the knights were talking about a place in Paragon City that was supposedly a sanctuary for werecats, run by a weretiger. Most of the men laughed at the possibility of weretigers, nevermind werecats; but Knight knew much better.
He was a wereleopard.
He had hidden his abilities for most of his life. Raised only by his mother, who was also a wereleopard, he was taught to never let his real self out, except in her company. "You will scare people," she told him.
As it was he had been born with fur, and his father had divorced her soon after. His father wasn't a were, so he was only half wereleopard. His brother and sister hadn't inherited it. Only him, homeschooled because of his looks, until he could get the hang of looking more human.
Turning down another street, he saw it. He was surprised that he hadn't seen it on his first pass. A huge, red pagoda, window shades open to the street, golden door closed. It looked like a fancy Chinese restaurant. There was no sign on the front, nothing to show that it was a Chinese restaurant.
He parked the bike on the sidewalk. He dismounted, looking up at the huge structure. He looked for a knocker, but one wasn't there. He looked for, and found, a sash hanging from the ceiling. He pulled on it, and a series of bells tinkled somewhere within the building.
He looked at his bike, looked at the door, wondered if he had come to the right place. The doors swung open, and Knight turned.
Standing there was the biggest tiger on two legs that he had ever seen.