This was originally started to try my hand at a new pairing. Well, I come to find that this pairing is not often seen at all, and that this must be stopped for it is a good pairing (in my humble opinion, mind you). After countless hours of screaming at my computer to make me smarter and an innumerable amount of coffee in gallons, I give you this.
Warning(s): Mild violence, non-graphic sex, sad attempt at angst, and various other things.
And on that note…
Merry Christmas, Chevira Lowe. I hope you enjoy your present.
"To be vanquished and yet not surrender, that is victory." – Josef Pilsudski
Again you come to me. You need someone strong, someone stronger than even you. This is not the first time and I know that it is not the last. You come to feel. To feel what? It differs each time, though I have steadily chalked up guilt, pain, helplessness, and hatred as just a few. You're a hard soul to crack into, as not much can make you feel. So to make up for the fact that you have created an almost impenetrable shell against the world and its horrors, you open yourself up, like a knight removing his armor, and come to me.
I break you every time.
I do not like to disappoint my guests. I can always figure out what it is that you want to feel, and I multiply it thrice times. You always leave with that shell back in place, as though none of it mattered, but I know, and you know. It did. I can make you hate like you've never hated before, make you feel as though you are as weak as the day you were born, and I can make you feel guilt…ah yes. I can make you feel so guilty.
"Tell me, Seto…did Mokuba ever forgive you for letting him fall into the hands of your deranged company men?" My voice is deep, dark, and as rich as any chocolate. My words are calculated, as I sit cross-legged in the over stuffed chair of my other's house. Ryou's house.
Your head comes up and you glare at me. It melts away as your mind finally brings back an answer. He's never told you he forgave you. Never. He said he loved you and he missed you and that he was happy you were all right. But never 'I forgive you.' I know that the little runt has. Anyone would know, but I like to play off your doubts. I have the slightest feeling that if that brother of yours looked at you the wrong way your entire world would come crashing down with a howl and a bone-crunching scream of pain. Lucky for you the weak little thing worships you.
I'll have to make you forget.
"He didn't did he? He never said that he forgave you for abandoning him…for leaving him?" My voice is toned for a question, but we both know it's a statement. The clock ticks in the background, loudly proclaiming the hour that has come upon us.
"My dear Little Seto Kaiba…" You remind me so much of a small childlike version of yourself at times. Or what I suppose you would look like in a younger form. You are nothing but a child to me, frail, beautiful, and not nearly as dangerous as you declare yourself to be. An act that you have perfected? Yes. I do think that you are strong, but when compared to me…you are nothing.
I stand and walk towards you; you're staring out the window. Those blazing eyes mulling over what I've said to you. I love how you are my puppet. I soak up your emotions and taint them, only to return them to you with malice and pain. And you absorb it right back up, don't you.
I have crept towards you. Crept is an appropriate word here, as any other form of movement would have riled you too much. And it's not that I doubt myself, but a physical fight with Seto Kaiba would surely leave us both battered.
And I only want you battered.
You're sitting low in the chair you have chosen. This is not like you, as you normally like to sit as tall and straight as possible. You used to relish your height advantage over me at one time. Tonight you seem different. Tired, perhaps? No, you have come to me tired before. And you repress it and take your punishment and then leave.
I force myself to stand next to you, gazing out the window that holds your attention for the moment. You like to act like you can ignore me, but I am not easily phased by childish defense mechanisms. And they are so childish. Granted with a sick and demented twist, but merely a variation of a sulking 2nd grader. Someone hurt your feelings. So you stopped talking, when that didn't work I suppose you may have cried at one point, but the thing that worked the best for you was machines. The concept that you weren't and are not human now is so utterly appealing to you, it makes me sick.
I relish human emotions. Particularly the stronger ones such as pain, hatred, agony, guilt, and utter anguish. The human psyche is a beautiful thing to me. It is easily molded and crushed, and the exceptions to this are so much fun to destroy. You are an exception Little Seto. You are hard to crush. But make no mistakes and have no misgivings about what I can and cannot accomplish.
I will crush you.
And I think some sick and dying part of you wants me to crush you. You want this pain and agony to end, even before it reaches its beautiful climax. I often wonder what the look on your face would be should you come home one night and find that dear little brother of yours slaughtered in a most gruesome fashion. There would be blood everywhere. As a matter of fact, I often thought that the only thing that would tip you off that something was wrong would be the blood. You would not walk into the house and have some stupid sixth sense about the house being too quiet, you would feel no absence of presence, and there would be no police cars with paramedics and body bags to tip you off. No, you would face it alone. As you do everything.
I can see it now. You would walk into the house and lay your keys on that stupid table that everyone has by the side of their front door, only your fingertips would touch something sticky and slightly cool. Something you know should never be found on furniture…
I bite back a snicker at the thought of your face. Your precious, normally stoic face draining of color. How you would rush up the stairs or wherever the trail of blood led. How you would scream and scream when you saw his body. How you would hold his carcass to your breast and roar with pain.
Then…then I think your death would be justified. Then I could see it all being worthwhile. You would have reached your pinnacle and from there it could only lend your feelings to apathy and a silent unyielding stupor that would stretch until the little voices in your head finally convinced you that you should stop moping and off yourself.
And how could I blame them. Seriously, what fun would you present anymore?
I bend down until I am level with your face. Those eyes of yours always held a rather haunted look. One that spoke of a wall that had long been in place and a fortress even stronger than that behind it. Running my hand down your cheek, your gaze finally meets mine. I smile. You stare.
I settle myself in your lap, almost insanely happy on the inside as I straddle your narrow waist. Although I pride myself on never having actually been 'insanely' happy my entire existence. I cock my head to the side and peer at you. Your gaze has never left my eyes, and I am pleased to see that I am now the center of your attention once again. You're so easily to manipulate when you want to be.
You abhor physical contact. Loathe it as it can only serve to remind you how human you are. The way you react, even though your mind screams that you shouldn't. How you let so many emotions slip through those supposedly cold eyes.
I rock against you, and you tilt your chin at me as you hiss at the friction. Ever defiant. I enjoy this so much. I lean forward and nuzzle your cheek. It's a mocking gesture of concern. You know I don't care. Not in the least.
"So what shall we do tonight, Little Seto Kaiba? Shall I beat you? Or maim that lovely body of yours? Or perhaps you're in the mood for other things tonight…" I let my voice trail off as I rock against you. Your body is reacting, and I snicker at the small submission.
You suck in your breath and your body shivers beneath me. Tonight will be interesting. I can feel it. I move us so that I am face to face with you and let my lips brush against yours. I watch your hands clench involuntarily at the touch. You love this don't you? Love the pain I can give you, the hurt I can provide. I shrug inwardly and raise an eyebrow. Well, I'm certainly good at it.
I stand abruptly. My pants are a bit tight, and thus uncomfortable. I can see that all the attention to below your waist hasn't gone completely un-rewarded, as your pants are a bit snug as well. How angry this must make you, Little Seto Kaiba.
You stand and follow me as I lead us to the room. Ryou's room to be accurate. It's immaculate, with books left in an organized manner on the shelf, pencils and pens in a holder on the desk, a small lamp located next to them…
Turning I grab your arm harshly and force you back upon the bed. I deftly unbutton your shirt and glare when I realize you're staring out the window again. The smack is harsh and I know it will leave a dark, red mark on that alabaster skin, and I grin when shocked azure eyes meet mine.
Look at me, Little Seto Kaiba. Don't look anywhere else.
I hold your gaze without the need to speak the words in my mind. I lean down and pull your shirt open letting my hands wander freely. So soft…littered with scars. Another smirk. I really have such a hard time suppressing them sometimes. Some of the scars are mine while others are older…much much older. They hold the look as though they grew on your body, stretching and lengthening with you as you grew into a young man.
I break eye contact as I bite down on your stomach. Hard. Your body goes rigid with the pain, but eventually accepts it and you lay still. I blow lightly in the teeth marks. They will bruise.
"Little Seto Kaiba, so lost, so lost…" I say this more to myself, realizing that you're staring at the ceiling anyway. What are you thinking about, Little Seto? What could possibly be more important than this?
I pull you forward, into a sitting position, and backhand you. I know my face must appear harsh, but I'm laughing on the inside Little Seto, I really am. You don't flinch but give me your attention once again.
"Am I interrupting some internal tirade, might I ask?" I say, looking sharply into sapphire orbs. You look at me as though you can't hear me, cocking your head to the side, and I watch with mute fascination as you lean forward and your eyes slip close. Your lips are so soft and warm. The shock doesn't come until after you've kissed me.
You stare at me, the great Seto Kaiba, waiting for my decree on whether or not you kiss well? I backhand you again, as hard as I can manage but still keep my emotions in check. Your head snaps to the left and you hold it there, staring at Ryou's pristine white pillows.
You turn your head slowly and regard me again. A spark now present in those azure eyes. I feel two hands placed on either side of my face and I am again pulled into a kiss. Not dominant as I had expected, but submissive, tender, and teasing. Seducing me?
Anger boils to the surface and I pull away and deliver a harsh smack to the side of your face. The great Seto Kaiba being smacked as though he is an insolent child. This amuses me.
Suddenly our positions are reversed and I am laying on the bed with you straddling my waist. I feel the buttons on my shirt being undone, and I raise an eyebrow at you. You're looking intently at the buttons of my shirt as you undo them. Can't make eye contact, Little Seto Kaiba?
Clothes are shed quickly, as your pace is almost frantic, yet still in check. Movements are hurried and at the same time I know you could move faster, but that would make you appear too eager. I lay still watching this little scene with interest. Normally this position would cause me to be extremely defensive and should you try anything I am more than prepared to handle it. You move over me and brace your arms above my shoulders, bending your head down so that your bangs barely whisper against the skin of my shoulder.
Suddenly I feel an incredible pressure and I hear you suck in your breath. No preparation? You must want pain tonight. I clench my hands in the sheets, because for some reason I don't want to touch you. I don't actually want to be a part of this. I want to hurt you, but you're hurting yourself, and I have the distinct feeling that if I were to offer an assistance that it would only serve to heal the wounds I'm trying to create.
You raise and lower yourself harshly, a small choked noise wrenching itself from you. You're not touching me, the same way you kept your hands away from my skin as much as possible while we undressed. Well, when you undressed the both of us. I force my face into an unreadable expression, and stare at you. Forcing my body to relax, and ride wave after wave of pleasure as you deal it.
Only the necessary parts of contact for our bodies are used. You don't touch me anywhere that you don't have to, and I do not move to touch you. I notice that my breath is slowly working its way into a pant. I make myself breathe evenly, giving no indication of whether or not I enjoy this.
You impale yourself sharply, forcing myself deep within you and I growl. Low, deep, and very primal is how it sounds, and I mentally scream at myself to hold them in. Your mouth is open and a small cry comes as you force yourself down again harder. Well yes, Little Seto, it does hurt if you don't prepare yourself. And you will hurt later as well. So you wanted a pain that would stay with you awhile?
A splash of liquid falls on my abdomen and I think that it may have just been from your excitement or sweat, but another falls and I see tears streaming downs your cheeks as you move. You stare straight ahead at the wall above the headboard, and I am given a delicious upward profile of your face.
You're crying…You've never cried before. My mind reels at the information. I have beaten you, belittled you, threatened friends (what few you have) and family. I have damaged your body, defaced and humiliated you ever time you came to me, and you cry now?
Your movements are frantic now, forcing your entire body into a spasmodic rhythm of up and down, up and down. My own body tightens and I bite my lip to stifle any noise my body may wish to make.
A few moments later a moan is torn from my body. The sounds reminds me more of grinding bones, as though my body refuses to allow the sound to be released too easily and therefore went to extreme lengths to force it back down. Your eyes come up to meet mine and there are tears in them still. As your force yourself down again, your head lolls forward and you won't look at me again after that.
I decided to stare at the ceiling. The waves of pleasure do me little good when it comes to smothering the small gasps of pain you're trying not to make, or the small little moans that worm their way out of your protesting body.
Two people, both desperately trying to deny the fact that they're enjoying this. Amusing.
Your nails dig into my side and I grip the blanket to keep from striking you again. I look at you, with your head still hanging limply and knocking against your chest as you continue to move over me. Your stomach muscles are tightening in a rhythmic pattern and I let my eyes travel lower. You're aroused, but you haven't touch yourself, and I won't. I refuse to make this pleasurable. For once I haven't figured out what you want out of this visit. You're giving yourself pain, but using my body to do it. Creative of you.
Finally you lose control and unclench your teeth so that ragged breaths can be released from your shuddering form. A choked cry escapes you along with the almost inaudible whisper of my name.
Your body tightens almost painfully around me. You release with your head thrown back and your eyes tightly shut. You inhale and for a moment I don't think you'll exhale. At that moment I follow you into climax, my mouth letting go of a low growl.
You finally exhale, your body releasing all the muscles that you had held so taut. Instead of coming down to brace yourself, as one would expect, your body sags to the side, devoid of movement. I lie there, the air in the room touching and cooling your release on my stomach. I regulate my breathing, until it returns to normal and remains that way.
I glance at your crumpled form beside me. Your face is barely on the pillow; more so on the mattress than anything else. The breaths that come out of you are erratic, but becoming steady quickly. You passed out. How very perceptive of me.
There's blood on my lower body, as I am sure you have some on yours. No preparation. No foreplay, though you tried. Must have hurt. The crying…now this confused me. What would have brought that on?
Innocent blood. Does the great Seto Kaiba have a drop of innocent blood in him? No, I wouldn't bet on it. I run my finger through some of the blood that has mixed with your release and bring it to my tongue for a taste. No, not innocent blood. Innocent blood tastes different. Ryou…he has innocent blood. He tastes sweet and fresh and every time I take him I must have a taste.
You, Little Seto Kaiba, have tainted blood. It's filled with the abuse and guilt you harbor…I can taste it. No amount of your blood being shed will ever cleanse this dirt away. I snicker quietly to myself. So why then this visit?
A startling and maddening conclusion settles itself into my mind. No…you couldn't possibly have…
An image of your eyes when you leaned in to kiss me the first time. How desperate you were to have me touch you in the beginning, and when I had denied you, how you had refused to let yourself touch me at all, avoiding even the slightest contact except the most necessary. My name…you had whispered my name…
I won't give you that. I simply am unable. My life or rather lifetimes have shown me the repercussions of that.
I wander into the bathroom and wash myself clean in the shower, returning with a washrag to wipe your own body off with. I dress and then tend to you. My hands stray to caress parts of you where the skin is amazing left unmarked. You have a child-like beauty, Little Seto Kaiba. I find it amazing how even the most tainted person like yourself can regain the amount of innocence that you appear to have in sleep, or rather unconsciousness.
Picking up your limp body, I carry it down the stairs. I can hear the rain outside and I wonder what you will first think when you wake up in it. I actually don't care; I just want you out of this house. Out. I don't care where you go when you wake up, I just want you to get out. I'm breaking my composure and I don't like it.
Opening the door, a gust of wind throws a spray of icy water drops at me. You could freeze out here. Your clothed body is placed gently on the porch, the angle of the wind sending gusts of raindrops across your body. Your hair gets wet and you lie there, unconsciousness having set in deep. The rain washes and soaks your clothes, giving you a defeated look.
I can give you pain, Little Seto Kaiba. The kind you can understand. I can hate you, and despise you and hurt you. And you ask of me this? To care? I can give you the worst of this world and you ask for the best?
I climb back up the stairs after closing and locking the door behind me. The house is deathly quiet as my other's father is away yet again, and Ryou is locked within his soul room as it has always been done. Once back in Ryou's room I look out the window onto the porch. I don't know how long I stared at you, but after a while you stirred.
Deep azure eyes slowly open and squint against the rain. The rest of you remains completely still, as though moving would upset some precious equilibrium you have created. The rain makes little rivers that roll down your face, miming the tear streaks from earlier. You seem a bit confused? Didn't think your 'lover' would leave you out in the cold, dark night, did you? There are emotions welling in those eyes, and as you stare deep into the rain clouds in the dark sky I see pain flash ever so briefly through those sapphire depths.
Your eyes suddenly lose all emotion from them. As though someone came and wiped away any feeling you had in you whatsoever. The transformation is immediate. You are suddenly Seto Kaiba, CEO of Kaiba Corp, the chief commander of the best technological company in the known world. Nothing hurts you.
But we both know that's a lie.
You stand, and take one unsteady step. Physical pain lances up your spine. Yes, Little Seto Kaiba, no preparation always comes back to wreak havoc on the lower body. You take one limping step before you suddenly snap your back into a straight line. Your body is rigid as you walk off the porch and towards the street, disappearing around the street corner.
I release the heavy curtain, letting it swoosh silently back into place, blocking out what little light is let in from the street lamps. I can give you pain, Little Seto Kaiba. But I cannot give you that.
Perhaps you really were here for pain tonight, Little Seto. Perhaps this rejection has hurt you deep enough that you won't come back and I will have completed my task. Like I said before, you came to me and I always gave you what you asked for. Tonight it was pain, and I gave you the ultimate pain. I rejected you, threw you out, left you for dead if you will. I showed you just how little you meant to me. Didn't I?
You suffered. Greatly. And yet, you still managed to walk off the lawn as though no one ever touched you and that no one ever could. We both know that's a lie. I got under your skin, and I made you feel…in the way you almost made me feel. No matter. I did not fail you, Little Seto Kaiba. You wanted pain and I gave you the most stinging, burning pain I could conjure.
You see, I do not like to disappoint my guests.
~ ~ ~ Owari ~ ~ ~
Heh heh heh. Torturing them is more fun than I originally thought it would be. Ah well. I tried to force Bakura into staying in character, but I don't know. I tried to make it angsty, and again this is not something that I normally try to incorporate in my fics, as I am one for happy fluffy endings. Though this one did not. Oh well. Life goes on, and Seto torture is a lot of fun.