"Growing Darkness" and the general concept of "Growing Darkness" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2006. All characters contained within and terms like "Organization XIII" are owned by Square-Enix and Disney. Lucky, lucky bastards.

Background: I was inspired by the drop-dead gorgeous works of RubyD, which you can find if you go to the website in my profile, click on Writing, then Fan Fiction, and find this story, "Growing Darkness". What more needs to be said? Go! Look at them! Now!

Growing Darkness
by Orin Drake

Beaten. By a kid.

Well, not any kid, obviously. Riku knew the truth about the young Nobody... but that didn't help his pride any. It didn't make losing any less painful.

Nor did it make his punishment for having lost any less surreal. He'd known about the Organization, of course... but to have them all descending upon him in their black coats, hoods up to cover their faces...

There was confusion even before anger. The sudden rush of bodies could easily have been fought away if only he'd not wasted so much energy already--moving to defend himself, he realized his arms were already being restrained. Turning to yell something along the lines of a threat or a curse, he found fingers silencing his attempt, sliding uninvited into his mouth.

Panic overcame him even before he realized one of them had grasped hold of his coat's zipper. He glared up at the perpetrator--only to flinch in horror at the man standing back, watching the whole thing. That grin, from under the hood... those cruel lips framed by bright silver hair... so familiar...

Darkness. He struggled like mad, but all of his limbs were being held. He realized at once that his coat was being pulled off, his pants quickly following suit.

Desperation. He flailed to no avail as the darkness continued to encase his vision--only realizing when he felt a pressure around his head that it was a blindfold.

Sora... he bit back a helpless sound, crying out in his mind. If any part of you is here... please stop this...

There was no saving grace. There was no mercy.

A dark chuckle, somewhere in front of him. A quiet, almost amused, "He's a lovely thing, isn't he..?" from somewhere not so far behind. Hands were all over, rushing to touch the pale flesh of his chest, back, hips--Riku growled low in his throat when something far warmer than a hand began to tease at places far off-limits to any enemy.

"Ow!" the owner of the fingers in his mouth exclaimed, laughing quietly soon after. "Boy bites."

"I'll bet." Came a low rumble from behind, a new hand stroking over a hip and further, moving behind...

Someone cursed when Riku nearly managed to pull a leg free. "He kicks, too."

"Brilliant." A word nearly half-giggled against the inside of his thigh.

He couldn't manage to escape. They moved together to pull him back, forcing his legs to part just enough for--

Amused, self-righteous sounds covered his quick gasp. It had been... a very long time. Add to that the hot tongue wrapping too slowly around that goddamn traitorous portion of--

"Heh. Hey, he likes it."

"Oh, who wouldn't?"

The tongue pulled away for only one, quick, "Shut up." The warm heat returned instantly--a ready mouth fully engulfing the heat of Riku's attempted denial.

There was rage far more than fear. Embarrassment didn't even play into the situation. He was angry at losing, angry at being used, helpless, angry at his body for what it was putting him through. Pain was something he could eventually disconnect from; even such unwelcome pleasure, especially after he'd already spent so much energy, was impossible to push away.

A surprised cry was finally pulled from him by teeth grazing his nipple. A low, playful chuckle assured him it was not missed--right before lips and tongue descended, attempting to wring more of a response from him.

The combination of silken heat around his (by then absolutely undeniable) arousal and a practiced mouth running all over the expanse of his chest, then slowly down to his abdomen... it was an insane, horrifying, nightmarishly pleasant hell. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning, managing to taste blood when another pair of lips, then teeth, began to move ever so delicately along his neck and down the side.

Somebody laughed; a cold, cruel sound despite how quiet it was. Whispered, just against his earlobe, "I don't think this is much for punishment anymore."

"Was it ever?" was asked by another, tone low and keen--in on a joke that the others laughed at.

Rage burned hotter... unfortunately, that much had started to backfire. It took every ounce of effort not to buck into the mouth that would only allow him so far in. When a nearly delicate finger started to trace along the curves of his back and then lower, that rage took on an edge of thoughtless panic.

"Don't bother." It sounded like an order from a mountain top, spoken with celestial authority. That voice... that damn voice... it was exactly like--

"B-but..." came softly from somewhere beside him. "I mean... he ought to be... prepared... right?"

"Just. Move." Was barked. "And hold him."

No. Fear bled straight into panic as all teasing touches disappeared. No, no. He felt air shifting in front of him, someone moving closer. The hands at his arms held tighter, the ones at his legs pulling hard against his every attempt to keep them together, closed, keeping him safe... No! No, not this--!

Familiarity. Again. Even the way his throat felt shattered into a million pieces after he'd screamed with the brutal agony was the same. The sharp pain of the thing inside... the warmth of the blood... it was all the same.

At least back then, the first time, he'd been able to fight back. It didn't save him, but he didn't feel quite as helpless. There weren't minions to hold him back... though there could have been. No, the man had liked to see him fight... but this one...

The raw throat didn't stop the next shriek. It was thorough, it was cruel--he tried to breathe heavily enough to pass out, but the splintering pain of every thrust kept preventing him from controlling his own lungs.

That quiet, timid voice; it was something he barely heard over his own rasping for air and calm and death and ending and Please stop and Sora where are you..? "H-hey Xe--"

The violent rhythm stopped for only a second--interrupted by a startlingly loud strike, a soft yelp following. Hands remained clenched on Riku's limbs... but some of them shivered, grasping tighter. Others betrayed no reaction at all.

Later, Riku would wonder who tried to defend him. It hadn't been the voice of the Nobody he'd been after... but any coherent thought was lost when a hand was woven through his hair, grasping hard at the back of his scalp. It was no longer the pain of the invasion overwhelming him, or even the sudden lurch of his stomach as he felt hot breath over his own lips.

It was what was spoken. What was said to him, only to him. Vicious. Scoffing. Finding exactly the most painful wounds to drive weapons back into. "You will not have him. He's too pure for you."

He believed himself to have lost full minutes. His body was too cold, the shaking from the blood loss and the overall experience was just too overwhelming. Minutes, but not hours. That much was... was "good"...

Still blindfolded, still naked, Riku merely laid there limply on the cobblestones and wondered why the boy hadn't been part of that. Defiant as the youngest Nobody was... Riku was certain he'd never felt the blond's touch. There were no... small hands on him. Some delicate ones, but not in that way.

Of course, it wasn't as if the Nobody had stopped the events. His pleas went unheard... just like always. His pain was his alone to bear... and, when he could manage, he would damn well pick himself up and limp back to... wherever it was... he was supposed to... go...

He could believe the blindfold capable of stopping tears. He could make himself believe. It... it hurt. Everything hurt. That last physical bit there was... just another bump in the road. Just one more mark to add. The words, though...

Footsteps. Slow and quiet. Riku rolled over. Throat exposed, solar plexus completely unguarded... it was stupid. But sometimes oblivion looks pretty good...

"Here." The voice was soft... careful... young...

The very word indicated motion on Riku's part. He didn't particularly like that... but he reached out with a shaking hand, not much caring if it was only to be broken. Instead... a Hi-Potion was placed in his palm. He only knew the bottle's shape due to the many times he'd reached blindly for one in his pocket, fighting on the edge of life and death... The words were dry, shaking... "Th--... thank you."

There was hesitation, for a moment... and then the simple footsteps of the Nobody walking away.

Why did I leave it here! I know, I even annoyed myself with that. But... well. It's still... ending here. So... yeah. I think I've royally screwed myself by actually wondering what happens after... and who did what... and oh damn.

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