Long, pulling fingers moved through his hair. They massaged his scalp and Mariku could feel the way Ryou's short fingernails scratched at his head lightly when the repetitive process started over again. Over and over and over. Mariku did not let himself relax. Sure, he drifted in and out of languid pleasure, but his mind remained as alert as ever. He counted the grooves in the ceiling for so long that he lost track of numbers themselves. His head pillowed on Ryou's lap, there was little else to do. Mariku's ears pricked at every small sound that echoed throughout the room.
Ryou sat rigid as he pet his hair. The amount of scorn that Mariku could feel radiating off of him was admirable, he had to admit. He had never known how much chagrin could be put into brushing through someone's hair until this day. Truly admirable. Worthy of recognition at the very least. Mariku considered himself a self proclaimed connoisseur of anger, and had always been able to appreciate it in others. And while he absolutely resented him for it, Ryou had proven himself to be quite the self taught prodigy of hate. Mariku often wondered if the crumbling rage Ryou held in him was purely a work of Zorc, or if he had created it long, long ago. Sometimes he entertained the idea of asking, but Ryou often didn't like it when he spoke. And for the better most likely. Mariku wasn't quite sure what he might say if he opened his mouth. Better to act the dumb pet than the scheming animal.
There was a little TV playing against the far side of the wall. In such a large room, it seemed to be miles away. It was the kind of television that had the metal wires sticking straight up out of it. Mariku had once told Bakura that they reminded him of his hair, and had gotten a punch to the gut in return. Not that Bakura's hair still looked like that since reclaiming his old body, but it had been worth it regardless. Mariku had never found joy in anything other than various levels of antagonizing others. Even now.
A game show played on the screen. Mariku wasn't paying much attention and neither was Ryou. He could tell. Ryou was looking straight ahead, but his eyes saw through the pixilated display. He was angry about something. What, Mariku couldn't tell, but he knew he was angry. Ryou was very little anything other than angry these days. Even when Mariku had first become deformed, Ryou hadn't been this angry. He had been terrifyingly sadistic, yes, but without anger. It had always been the sort of amusement that had struck him as odd as he cut off his arm. Strange. Mariku had always been the same way. Perhaps it just wasn't as fun to be on the receiving end of things. But the truth still remained that Ryou's anger had been a recent sort of hell. It had started with the riots, but had lasted long after.
The rot had begun to set in. Ryou pretended that he couldn't see it. Bakura pretended that he couldn't see it. But Mariku looked right at it and he knew that they did too. It was easy to pretend that something didn't exist when it wasn't something that you could actually see. It was a different sort of looking that Mariku used to see the rotting masses of Ryou's mind. It was a strange thing. It wouldn't kill Ryou, oh no, it was a different sort of sickness. It was some kind of mental plague and that was as far as he could understand. Really, the specifics were lost on him. Mariku wasn't sure what sort of sickness it was, but he had yet to ask Bakura. Bakura knew more than he did. Bakura always knew more than he did.
It seemed like Bakura always had known more than anyone else. And that was probably true. He was thousands of years old and had lived through more than one lifetime, and more than one body. He knew the human struggle and the paranormal both. Before, he had been nothing but a hardened spirit of rage and vengeance. But he had gotten that. After five thousand years, Bakura had gotten his revenge. Sometimes Bakura talked to him, but he mostly talked to Ryou. And wherever Ryou was, Mariku was usually there. And so Mariku had heard Bakura speak so openly about his feelings and questions. At first it was strange. Mariku had never taken him as a creature to even be able to experience human emotions. He was a spirit, a demon of darkness! But that wasn't quiet true, and in this new body of his, Mariku could tell. He was just as much human as he was monster. And with the monster finally sated, the human was the true survivor.
Bakura was not a necessarily talkative man, and not a necessarily affectionate one either. But he spoke to Ryou in a way that forced Mariku to see him as something other than just The Spirit of the Sennen Ring. Bakura talked about his feelings. Bakura talked about the Pharaoh. Bakura talked about the thousands of years he spent in solitude, Zorc seeping into him and mixing with him and being reborn as something other than the Thief King that he used to be. He talked about his worries of his direction in life. The Pharaoh was dead. He had killed him. And truly, it did bring him comfort, but nothing could ever live up to the thousands of years of waiting. He would always want more than he had gotten and he knew that he could never have it. The Pharaoh was dead, there was nothing else to do. Bakura was alive, and Bakura was lost. He had gone so long without living as a human that he did not understand his purpose as a mortal again.
'I need something to live for', he told Ryou one day.
The Thief King's hands were still as he sat in a plush red chair, but Mariku could tell he was restless from his posture. He itched to do something- anything!- but he didn't know what. Mariku understood that feeling. Mariku watched him from his place next to Ryou's side.
'There has to be something more. In all my years, I never thought it would come to the day that I would outlive my vengeance.' Bakura laughed without humor and looked towards the window.
It made Mariku feel a bit uneasy, and a bit perverted somehow, listening in on these conversations that Bakura and Ryou shared. They were close. If no other human on the planet understood, Ryou would. They had once shared a body and mind and it seemed they could communicate without words. For what one knew or felt, the other had too. They understood each other far deeper than could be explained. It was private. Mariku felt like a voyeur when they spoke like this in front of him. He was not meant to hear these things. He did not want to hear them. Whenever the Thief King turned to him, Mariku looked away.
Ryou and Bakura had shared life with each other, and even though they were physically separated now, the bond was still there. Ryou listened, ever patient, while Bakura spoke during the long hours they shared quietly together in each other's company. Mariku had learned long ago that Ryou was not the kind, soft spoken boy he had once assumed he was. But watching him interact with Bakura, Mariku felt less foolish for falling for the act. Because it wasn't an act around Bakura. Ryou seemed honestly concerned for the other. Honestly soft and kind and empathetic when Bakura talked to him in hushed voices about his fears. Sometimes Mariku felt a pang of jealousy that Bakura got such treatment, and all Mariku had gotten was an amputated arm. Those feelings were brushed aside quickly when he felt the fear returning.
And just how Ryou soothed Bakura's wild, untamable rage and concern, Bakura did the same. Bakura pretended to not see the rot, but he did. They all saw it. It was spreading through Ryou liked the blood that spread through his veins, pumping darkness into his body and every crevice of his mind. The Egyptian man had had thousands of years to adapt to the change of accepting Zorc into his body, but Ryou was being consumed too fast. There was no time to adapt. His body was being pushed and Mariku wondered what would happen if it suddenly became too much for him to bear. Without a doubt Bakura did too. And what's why he had confined Ryou to a wing of the mansion. Cut off from the outside world and all of the stress that it seemed to inflict on him, Ryou would be forced to slow down. Bakura wanted him to have no outside stimulation. No news, no planning, no plotting. His days of Supreme Overlord (that was what Mariku was sure Ryou liked to secretly call himself) were over for the time being. Bakura would rule in his stead.
'Give yourself time to relax,' he said, hands on Ryou's shoulders as he looked down at him and held him close, 'the world isn't going anywhere and neither should you.'
Ryou seemed put off but accepted it easier than Mariku thought he would. Only one person in the world could talk to him like that, and the white haired boy had always followed his advice. Even if it meant consenting to isolating himself from his new world.
'No one in, and no one out. I don't want you focus on anything other than yourself and relaxing.'
Bakura didn't protest when Ryou brought Mariku with him to his isolation. It was an unspoken assumption that he would be going.
For a couple of days it was fine. Ryou did indeed quiet down. He drew and read and watched TV as if he was a normal human. After a couple of days, he took to to writing in a journal. Ryou had once kept a journal every day, he told him when he saw him spying. The book was always shut and locked away when not being written in, though. The rest of the time, Ryou spent languidly. He even had his own gaming console that he played late into the night. Sometimes Mariku forgot that his captor was a teenage boy (then again, sometimes he forgot that about himself as well).
But as the days progressed and Ryou eventually learned that the news channels had been blocked from the television, the current events articles clipped from the newspaper, and the internet blocked from certain websites, he had started to disapprove. He had become as restless and as hostile as ever. Silently though. Ryou put him on edge when he did little more than glare out the window and tap his pen repeatedly on the desk for hours without saying a single word to him. Not that they talked much anymore, but it still made Mariku uneasy. His journal remained blank for days.
To be honest, he wasn't sure if he was happy about the lack of attention. It made him feel like it was only building up to something horrible. At the same time, it had given him a chance to recover and get his wits about him. Mariku relished the feeling of being more or less mentally fit again. With Malik locked safely away and Ryou no longer specifically antagonizing him, Mariku did as he pleased. For the most part. Ryou still ordered him to sit quietly at his feet most of the time, but when he slept or did nothing to indicate otherwise, Mariku let his mind wander.
He read. Ryou had taught him. Many of the books were dry and boring and still much above his reading comprehension, but still he read. He did not touch the books written in English for he planned on never learning the language, but the ones in Japanese challenged him enough to be interesting. It was mostly nonfiction. Books on geography and animals. There were many rooms in the wing that they had been locked away into, and Mariku had found one with walls filled to the top with books on all sides. He would pick up a stack of them and sit down and read for hours. Usually in the dead of night when Ryou was sleeping and his only light was a small lamp on a mahogany table in the corner of the room.
The other half of the books were all medical. These Mariku understood even less. They were both fascinating and horrifying at the same time. Mariku had always been drawn to muscles and tendons and organs and blood and everything that lay underneath the skin, but it also brought up unwanted memories that made him start to fear again. Fear scared him, and he usually closed these books with a fast thud more often than not. But sometimes, when his curiosity was so piqued that he could think of little else, he would read those books and take in everything he could from his small understanding of written language and pictures. Where bones were, where fat was, where arteries lay underneath the skin, and how it was all connected. Sometimes he could feel a small twitch in his arm that was not there anymore when he read these books.
Today was one of these late nights that Mariku had chosen to stay up well into the morning. He always made sure to be back to Ryou's side before he woke, though. Ryou had risen and ate the breakfast that Bakura brought him (Mariku was always given some too. He was not starved.) before saying their goodbyes. They hugged for a long while as Mariku watched them. So close and intimate. It was as if they were trying to merge their bodies back together again as they held each other so tightly. And so sweetly. Sometimes it made Mariku sick.
Ryou was in a foul mood when Bakura left. He had paced for a while like always before sitting down on an airy woven wood sofa and turning on the TV. Ryou had snapped his fingers sharply and pointed to the spot next to him for Mariku to sit. More of a command than anything. All of the kindness that had been reserved for Bakura was gone as Mariku laid his head on his lap and Ryou petted his hair. Oh, the motions themselves were soft enough for the most part, but Mariku could tell by the way he would tug angrily sometimes when his fingers caught a knot of hair, and the way that he glared off into the distance that Ryou was angry.
Mariku wondered if Ryou had always been like this. Some, no doubt, otherwise he would not have been Bakura's willing partner in the downfall of the planet. But to imagine Ryou as a sadistic child was hard. No one was born evil. Mariku knew that better than anyone. Evil itself, being the solely human thing that it was, was already debatable by definition. There wasn't such a thing as evil. Humans created the idea of evil. Mariku wondered what had brought Ryou to become the man that he was now.
The fabric of Ryou's jeans started to bug him the longer his head rested on his lap. He didn't fit very well on the couch since it was so small, and rested half way off of it. The uncomfortable posture and the position of his neck made Mariku's bones ache to stretch. Ryou didn't seem to pay much notice, so he rotated his head slightly until he felt and heard a satisfying 'crack'. His neck instantly felt better. The pay off wasn't worth it much though, as the motion snapped Ryou back to reality. The hand petting him paused.
"What are you doing?" Ryou said, turning to look down at him. He had such a young, round face.
Mariku met his gaze but quickly looked away. "Nothing." And it was the truth.
He could feel Ryou's gaze burn holes into his head, the way he was looking so intensely at him as if he was the only thing in the room. His hand had stopped brushing through his hair, and now instead rested heavily on the back of his neck. The feeling of Ryou's fingers against his skin made his skin crawl. It made him incredibly self aware to know that Ryou was staring at him.
"Why weren't you in bed this morning?"
At this, Mariku had to pause. He had known? He'd been so sure to be back before Ryou had woken! Mariku shifted nervously and made a point to not look anywhere else but at the electrical outlet the television was plugged into. "I had to use the bathroom."
"No you didn't," Ryou snorted, "you were gone for hours. You're always gone for hours."
"I'm scared of the dark. I wanted to turn on a light, but I didn't want to wake you, so I stayed in the bathroom."
Mariku's heart thudded in his chest as his blood ran cold. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't a truth either. Malik was the one who feared the dark, not him. He had always feared the dark. But Mariku had been born in the dark, and nowhere else did he feel more at home. And for some reason, he didn't want Ryou to know the truth of what he did at night. He didn't know why, but his gut told him not to tell. Surely Ryou would see through it, though. Surely he would punish him and get the truth out of him somehow or another. Ryou could read minds.
It took a long time for Ryou to reply. Every extra second made Mariku feel more trapped. Trapped underneath the lie and the fear and the heavy, heavy hand on his neck.
And that was it. For how angry Ryou was, he did not pry further. Mariku had expected a fight. Surely he would know he was lying... Except he didn't, because the power of the Sennen Eye was blind to him. Mariku let out a shaky breath, his mood changing completely. His heart raced faster for a different reason now. Not fear, but excitement. It was true then. Mariku was immune from Ryou's supernatural gaze. Ryou would have known instantly that he was lying if he was using the Eye on him. But he wasn't. Mariku felt more powerful than he had in a while.
"You're never in bed very much, though." Ryou continued after another pause. "I want that to change. I haven't fucked you in so long."
It was Mariku's turn to stay silent. It had been so long that Ryou had paid much attention to him that Mariku had hoped he would have forgotten about that all together. Maybe it was his price to pay for his other strokes of luck, though. Ryou scratched his neck slightly and fingered his skin where his golden neck band ended. His fingernails felt short and jagged. Mariku shifted again from discomfort. He didn't want to be touched. There was little he could do about it, though. Everything was inevitable.
"I know what you're like. You haven't touched yourself at all since the last time I took you. Your cock must just be dying for attention."
It wasn't, but Mariku said nothing.
Ryou grabbed Mariku's neck suddenly and pulled him closer. He gagged slightly, coughing, his hands instinctively reaching up to pry Ryou's hands away. His face was shoved forward to Ryou's crotch when he was satisfied with choking him. Mariku breathed raggedly but stayed still. The zipper of Ryou's jeans scratched against his cheek. He could feel the beginning of Ryou's erection through the fabric.
"There's nothing to do here. This place bores me. You bore me. Remember when things used to be fun?"
"No," Mariku said bluntly but still not moving, "because you showed up right when it was starting to be."
He had been expecting to be hit, and was a bit surprised when Ryou laughed.
"That's what makes it fun for me. Don't think I don't know how much you hate this. That's exactly why I do it. There's nothing more that I love than seeing the fear and revulsion on your face..." The hand that had been holding his neck down no moved to his head. Ryou tangled his fingers in Mariku's hair and held him still while he ground his crotch against his face. Small scratches from the zipper appeared on his skin. "I can't believe I've broken you down to this. It was so easy. You're going to suck my cock and hate it, but you're going to take it, you whore. God, yeah..."
Jutting against him, Ryou groaned. Mariku had squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want have to feel Ryou's disgusting dick in his mouth again. Mainly, though, Mariku just didn't want to open his mouth. He had to grit his teeth to keep himself from doing something rash. It would be harder to deal with if he couldn't grind his teeth together.
Ryou spread his legs and leaned back slightly. He pushed Mariku off the couch with his left foot so that he could sit more comfortably. Mariku fell back with a soft thud and glared up at him. He hadn't been expecting that. The rug underneath him felt rough when he landed. Hopefully there wouldn't be a burn, later.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" Ryou looked down at him and patted his thigh softly. A command to come.
Mariku kneeled, ready to stand.
"Uh-uh," the white haired boy said, waving a finger almost comically, "crawl."
Blood flushed his face with embarrassment. The command burned his pride and his face felt hot. His cheeks and the tips of his ears reddened as he crawled towards him. Resentment and hatred bubbled up inside him as Ryou motioned him to kneel between his legs.
Ryou kicked off his shoes and leaned backwards, resting his arms on the back of the couch. "Well? Get to it then."
Horrible. Mariku hated it when Ryou made him do the work. It felt like he was doing it voluntarily. Then again, Mariku hated everything about it when Ryou had sex with him. It made him feel weak and submissive. That was the most disgusting part.
But weak and submissive was the role he had to play to keep up appearances. He had to be the good pet so that Ryou didn't suspect a thing when he jammed a knife into his back. Resigning himself to the role of a good actor, Mariku exhaled a bit shakily and got to work.
His hand fumbled a bit as he unzipped Ryou's pants. Ryou lifted himself up slightly to let Mariku pull them down for easier access. It was hard to do with one arm. The pale, creamy skin before him felt a bit overwhelming. Where to begin? Mariku's set his hand on one of Ryou's thighs and rubbed softly. Maybe if he did a good job, Ryou would forget about actually fucking him. The idea made him feel a little more motivated and so he leaned forward to lick his stomach.
Trailing his tongue along Ryou's stomach where the top of his underwear rested, he moved his hand higher up his thigh. He coated his tongue with spit so that he had to taste as little of the boy as possible. Ryou's stomach was soft and squishy and Mariku pressed his face harder against it as he licked him. He could feel the faint, scratchy hairs of his glory trail against his cheek. His hand continued to massage him. It went higher and higher, eventually slipping underneath the fabric.
Ryou groaned appreciatingly as Mariku's hand found his dick. He touched it lightly underneath the fabric as he simultaneously continued to lick his skin. At first he just teased him. Light touches on the shaft before only touching the area above his dick. His hips bucked up slightly but Mariku still only teased him. He stopped using his tongue to focus more on his cock. Ryou's stomach was now damp from how much he had licked him.
Mariku's body felt so hot while he did this, overcome with humiliation as he pleasured his tormenter's cock. It was half hard and begging for him to stop teasing. He cupped his balls lightly, squishing them and massaging them before returning to his dick. He slid his hand up and down, gripping tight and purposefully. His foreskin moved slightly as he pumped him faster. With Ryou's underwear still on, it made moving his hand more difficult, so he touched him mainly at the base. Sometimes he would thumb the head, feeling the curve of it.
He did this for a little while longer before Ryou grabbed his hair again, holding him still as he wriggled out of his underwear, flinging it away to wherever he had thrown his jeans. Mariku leaned closer back into him when Ryou sat back down, pressing his chest against Ryou's leg. With more room to move around, he pumped him faster and longer, his hand gliding all the way to the top of his dick and back down again. Ryou breathed heavily, moaning softly periodically. His thighs twitched as Mariku rubbed his foreskin with his thumb.
"Stop," Ryou said, pushing him back suddenly. His hand was still on his cock. He was fully hard now. "Stand up, come closer."
Mariku did as he was bid. He felt much better when he was standing and Ryou was sitting. He was taller. He towered over him. But still, Ryou looked up at him, amused, unintimidated. Dominant.
Mariku stepped closer.
Ryou grabbed his sides, making him stumble a little. He moved his hands down his body, thumbing his hip bones. Mariku's skin felt prickly and he was sure Ryou could tell. If he did, it didn't bother him, and Ryou pushed his hands up underneath his shirt. He lifted Mariku's shirt up and over his head. The air was cool against his skin and Ryou looked agreeably at him. His hands rested on the top of Mariku's pants then, and Ryou smirked in a knowing way. Mariku held his tongue and allowed the boy to pull his pants and underwear down with one move.
An approving look and Ryou again relaxed back against the couch. Mariku felt naked. Like a piece of meat. Again, though, he held his tongue as Ryou commanded him to kneel once more. He scooted closer to resume jerking him off, but Ryou stopped him when he reached out.
"No, don't sit like that. On your hands and knees, as if you were still crawling to me. Or I guess, on your hand, I should say." He laughed, and Mariku looked at him with such enmity that he was sure he would have been killed on the spot if Ryou had seen.
Mariku shifted backwards on his knees to make room for his torso between Ryou's legs. He felt unsteady from supporting his body up with just one hand. The position made him lean forward a bit, and he was forced to face Ryou's cock front on. It stood hard in front of him. He'd be forced to take it in his mouth, this way. He really had not been looking forward to it.
"Come on, you know what to do."
Mariku licked at it tentatively. He hated the taste. It didn't taste much different from the rest of Ryou's skin, but he hated it. But Ryou looked at him expectantly, and Mariku returned to his job.
He licked Ryou's balls at first. Soft and round and slightly squishy. They didn't seem as intimidating and he sucked lightly. Ryou's dick rubbed against his forehead as he sucked on him. It brushed against his hair and he could feel precum dribble onto his forehead. Mariku didn't like it. He didn't like any of this, but it felt like Ryou was marking him, and so he let his balls fall from his mouth with a slight 'pop' sound.
Moving his head up, Mariku resumed his attention to Ryou's dick. It was average, perhaps slightly smaller, but he didn't resent this. It was thick and pale. As pale as the rest of Ryou's white skin, with a slight red flush. Precum dribbled down along a vein to the bottom of his cock.
Mariku leaned in and flattened his tongue against the organ. Ryou groaned and he could feel him melt under his touch. He took his time with it, wrapping his tongue around the side and lapping at it softly. But Ryou grabbed hair and jerked him even closer after he continued at this for too long. That was it, then. There was no other choice. Resigning himself to his fate, Mariku breathed in harshly before taking the cock into his mouth. The head rested against his tongue and he tried not to gag.
Ryou grinned and released his hair. "Suck," he commanded.
He winced at the taste. It felt so uncomfortable to not be able to close his mouth with the intrusion keeping it forcefully open. It was hot and wet and salty against his tongue. He hated it. Absolutely hated it. He wanted to bite it off. Sink his teeth into it and hear Ryou scream and taste him bleed. He wanted to kill the boy so much, just hurt him, somehow. But instead he began to bob his head.
His tongue curled around Ryou's cock as he moved his head back and forth. Saliva dripped down his chin as he sucked him. He felt so disgusting. It was hard to support himself with one hand as he rocked back and forth. Mariku licked at it, pursing his lips as he sucked harder. Maybe if he did a good job then Ryou would cum early.
It was sloppy and desperate. Ryou seemed pleased enough though. He continued to moan, particularly liking it when he sucked at only the head. Mariku toyed at it with his tongue, lapping at the slit and letting the disgusting salty taste invade his mouth. It disgusted him how enthusiastic he was acting, for how much he hated it. He hated it he hated it he hated it. But he continued to move his head back and forth and rub Ryou's cock all over his face. His face was wet from how much he had coated it with spit earlier.
Underneath all of his hatred, Mariku looked up. Ryou was fully relaxed against the white couch. His head was thrown back and his chest rose and fell quickly. White hair stuck to his face as he breathed heavily. Green eyes were closed and he never stopped making small, soft moans. Mariku hated him. He hated this sadistic boy and all of his ethereal beauty. It was a joke, a lie. No matter how handsome he was, no matter how soft or pale or unbearably white, he was a monster. Mariku wasn't fooled by how fair he looked.
Ryou opened his eyes to see Mariku looking up at him with his cock in his mouth. Mariku averted his eyes quickly but he had still been seen.
"Well don't stop," he said, eyes lidded and breath heavy as Mariku paused, "it was just getting good."
Mariku closed his eyes (which only served to further heighten the feeling of having his dick in his mouth) and resumed his task. He could feel Ryou shift above him, reaching for something, and pulled away quickly after he felt hands on his ass. Ryou's dick pressed against his cheek and he leaned forward to try and get away from the feeling of Ryou groping him. Ryou's hands felt a bit wet, and Mariku realized he had put lube on his palms as he touched him.
He breathed heavily. His hand curled into a fist to keep himself in check as Ryou groped at him. Maybe it shouldn't have come as a surprise, but Mariku jumped slightly when Ryou slid a finger into him. It was humiliating. He could feel his finger inside him, moving and pressing and invading. Mariku breathed heavily and he could hear Ryou laugh. Hear and feel. Ryou was doubled over to reach him, and Mariku could feel his stomach rest against him.
Everything was hot as Ryou fingered him. He could feel his face flush. Even after all the times Ryou had done this to him, it still felt strange. After all this time he had still not grown used to the sensation of having his ass fucked. It was only fingers now, but he knew what was coming next. Mariku wanted to scream and claw at him, but instead he kneeled and took it. He hated it with every fiber of his being, but the truth remained that he was still kneeling while his tormenter fingered him and his cock rested against his face.
After a while of just one finger, Ryou slid another one into him. He could feel the scissoring motion inside of him. Mariku squirmed and this seemed to alert the boy back to the fact that the top half of him was still there.
"I didn't tell you to stop. I want to feel you sucking my cock while I finger you, you foreign slut." Ryou slapped his ass and Mariku grit his teeth so hard that he was sure that one of them cracked.
The idea of focusing on sucking Ryou's cock to get rid of the feeling of being fingered was a horrible one. It was the lesser of two evils, though, and Mariku squeezed his eyes shut to try and escape it all. He swallowed his erection and began to bob his head again. It was harder to do than before, with Ryou leaning over him now. He breathed through his nose. Mariku put all of his effort into the task. Anything from being reminded that there were three fingers inside of him now, stretching him, preparing him. Ryou started to rock his hips into his mouth, making Mariku gag. He fucked his face and moved his fingers faster while fingering him.
Everything was just so overwhelming and Mariku felt like he was going to die from sensory overload. Ryou's cock pumped in and out of his mouth, and his fingers pumped in and out of his ass. He felt like something so used. Mariku's own cock had begun to harden, and he hoped Ryou didn't feel it when he choked. All of his life, he had worked to own this body, and now that it was finally his, someone else had taken it from him. He felt so violated, but Ryou didn't stop. Ryou wanted to own him.
As quickly as it had come, it stopped, and Mariku untensed with relief when Ryou pulled his fingers out of him. Ryou's erection was hard in his mouth, and he sucked on it softly when he pulled away. His creamy thighs moved closer together and Mariku looked up. Green eyes met his own and Ryou smirked. There was a red tint to his normally pale face. He was sweating slightly, and his lips were red. It looked like he had been chewing on them. Ryou pushed him away softly and his cock bobbed as Mariku let it out of his mouth.
Ryou seemed to be done with verbally commanding him. Instead, he forcibly pulled Mariku up by his armpits to his feet. Mariku stumbled a bit and Ryou grabbed him, turning him around quickly, and pulling him onto his lap. His heart thudded in his chest as he sat on him, feeling Ryou's cock slide against his inner thigh and rub softly against his own balls.
"I'm going to enjoy this. Really, I am." From behind him, Ryou's voice was so low and thick with excitement. "You've got me so hard. Just looking at you on you knees like an animal and feeling you clench around me is enough to drive me insane. I can't wait to feel you around my cock, I'm going to fuck you so hard..." His hands were wandering across his chest, twisting his nipples and pinching at his skin. "You're such a whore. You used to be such a wild, uncontrollable ball of hate but now you're just a fucking slut with his master's cock in his mouth. How does it feel to suck me? You're never going to taste another in your life, so you'd better get used to mine." Ryou rolled his nipple between his thumb and index finger as his other hand moved to grip the base of Mariku's cock. "I've never wanted to fuck anyone more than you, Mariku. I watched Malik a lot before, at Battle City. I dreamed of having him down on his back as I fucked him, but you're... You're so..."
Ryou trailed off, his hand pumping him torturously slow.
"Damaged." He said, letting go. "I hope Malik can feel it while I fuck you."
Mariku tried not to shake when Ryou grabbed his cock and positioned it at his entrance. It was coated with spit and lube, but it would still hurt. But it wasn't the pain that Mariku worried about. It was the humiliation. Disguised as sex, Ryou was conquering him. He didn't want to be a thing to be owned and invaded and conquered. Not after all these years.
Blood pooled in his mouth when Ryou slowly eased into him. He had clenched his teeth so suddenly that he accidentally bit his cheek instead. He didn't want to scream or make a sound. Mariku was silent as Ryou groaned and thrust into him. He could feel the boy tense from pleasure beneath him. Their thighs touched as Ryou buried himself to the hilt inside of him. For a while he stayed like that, before pulling out and jerking his hips back up hard. This time Mariku yelped slightly, little tremors of pain shooting throughout him. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to leave mentally, but Ryou kept jerking him back to reality with his unrhythmic thrusts.
Ryou sighed in pleasure, groaning when Mariku tensed up. His cock felt much thicker now that it was inside of him. It was harder to hold himself up the harder that Ryou thrust into him. Mariku's calves strained from the effort, and his arm ached. Ryou seemed to sense this, and after a particularly hard thrust, Mariku found himself caught off guard and he fell backwards, unable to support his weight any longer.
He rested against Ryou's chest, sitting on his lap as he fucked him. Ryou's lips were right next to his ear and he could hear every excited breath that he took. His breath was hot and heavy and wet against his ear. Mariku could hear their skin slapping together each time he bucked his hips back up to meet him. Desperately he tried to keep his own breath even, but after a while it became as uneven as Ryou's. His erection that had died when Ryou first entered him had now come back. Mariku cursed it as it bumped against his stomach each time he was thrust into. It was starting to feel good, and he hated it.
Under his breath, Ryou kept mumbling horrible things to him. Horrible, dirty, perverse things that he would do to him. How good he felt. What a tight slut he was. Mariku had opened his eyes a while ago and tried to focus on the television that was still playing in the background, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. Ryou was his whole world. He could feel his skin against him, his breath against his neck, his words in his ear, his dick inside him.
It was so overwhelming and Mariku was falling. Each thrust became better and better than the last, and Mariku was laid back against Ryou's chest, not resisting at all. His breaths had become pants as Ryou fucked him faster and Mariku got harder. It was disgusting, but it hurt and Mariku wanted to be touched. Each time his prostate was hit, Mariku moaned. Ryou wrapped his arms around Mariku's stomach. He held onto him for better leverage, his hips jerking against him so fast.
"You don't even deny it," Ryou breathed shakily against his neck as he fucked him, "you haven't even tried once to tell me that you're not a whore. You love this. Look how hard you are." He gripped his erection and Mariku groaned, rolling his head back. Ryou's hand felt so good. He hated him. "You love my cock. I've killed everyone you've ever known and here you are, panting like an animal in heat as I fuck your ass. You're driving me wild."
It took a lot to not whimper pathetically when Ryou lifted him up slightly to lick his amputated stub of an arm. He tried to jerk away, but Ryou held him still. Ryou was starting to lose control, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic as he rocked into him. The never ending moans that slipped past his pale lips started to shake, and he muffled them by sucking on the folds of skin that covered the bottom of his stump. Mariku twitched and keened in the back of his throat. Small electric shocks radiated throughout his body. It was so sensitive. It was where his arm should be. But it wasn't. It was gone. Gone gone gone and Ryou was licking it and tonguing it and sucking on it and fucking him and invading him. Ryou's breath was hot and wet and everything was just so unbearable.
Ryou moaned loudly as he came. His hands shot up to choke him as he slammed his hips up against Mariku's ass, his cock buried deep as he shot his cum inside him. He shivered and shook and pulsed inside of him as Mariku choked, desperately clawing at his throat. Tightening his grip around his neck harder, Ryou only let go after a few minutes when his orgasm finally subsided. Mariku wheezed, gulping in huge amounts of precious air. Ryou's cock was still in his ass as he reclined back, spent. Mariku shuddered on top of him.
It was a while after Ryou left him. He said nothing as he pushed Mariku off of him, his limp cock sliding with a gross sound out of him. Mariku crumpled to the floor, not having the energy to move. His erection was still half way hard, and he came with only a small shudder after a minute or two of finishing himself off. After feeling so filthy, a little more wouldn't hurt. He laid down against the cold wood flooring and watched as two men on television argued back and forth about the size of their guns. Mariku turned his back to the TV and stared at a black stain on the couch. Later, after finally pulling himself up to rinse off in a bathroom, Mariku felt Ryou's cum drip out of his ass. He caught it on his fingers and looked at it for a long while underneath the fluorescent light. The same as the stain on the couch. It was black. Black like his rotting soul. Mariku shuddered and washed himself off.
Mariku did not return to Ryou's side that night. Long hours spent underneath lamplight with his face in a textbook was better than the company of the monster. He had brought many books with him this night. Anything to occupy his busy mind. But it wasn't any of the biographies of Charles Darwin that had caught his interest in the end. It was the dead of night, where Mariku felt most comfortable, that he noticed a peculiar set of books on the far side of the library. Peculiar, because he had seen them earlier, but could not place where.
At first he brushed it off. It wasn't important. But as the hours ticked on and the words on the pages became less and less enticing, Mariku finally decided to look. He closed his big book with a thud and set it aside with the others. They littered the table, begging to be read. But Mariku wasn't interested in them. Nothing would satisfy him until he discovered what those books were. And when he finally grabbed one off the shelf, he wished he hadn't. He knew then why the books looked familiar. They were the same books as the one Ryou had been using as a journal, earlier. He had found Ryou's old diaries.
Something inside him knew that he shouldn't read them. But as he stared down at the book in his hands, the date of the journal staring back at him, he knew it was hopeless. There was no way he could set these aside. Burden weighed on his mind as he finally opened the first one up to read. His eyes poured over the pages, taking everything in. For hours he sat hunched over reading, the finished books surrounding him to the right, and the unread ones to the left. Ryou's life surrounded him. And when he was done, he stood, shaky. He stood for a long moment, just staring at the journals laying on the ground, not doing anything at all. Perhaps it was more than he had wished to know, but with knowledge comes power.
Mariku filed the journals away carefully in their original spot so that no one would ever know that they had been disturbed. He wouldn't read any more that night. Without looking back, Mariku left to go sit in silence.
Ryou had always been a monster. There wouldn't be any human left inside of him when he finally killed him. Mariku would have no regrets.
September 2, 1995
It's my birthday! Dad made a nice dinner and Mum made cake. I got a puzzle and a action figure and legos and I got a journal! My Mum and Dad say I should write because I'm smart.
January 23, 1996
I don't like winter. It's really boring. It's really cold. I miss the summer. I can't wait until summer! I'm going to go to the zoo! I found Dad's lighter so now I can always make it sunny until summer comes.
April 15, 1996
Today I had a bad day. Mum yelled at me. I don't like school. Tommy took my paints so I put fire on him. They took away my lighter. Tommy was always mean to me so I don't know why they got mad at me. I got in trouble. I hate them.
June 11, 1996
I found a new lighter. I don't want them to take it. I play with it a lot now. I missed it.
July 30, 1996
We got a cat! Amane named her Apples. She is brown and yellow and has white spots. I love playing with Apples. Apples is really cute. Sometimes she steps in her water bowl. Tomorrow we are going to get Apples a collar.
August 2, 1996
I love summer I don't want to go back to school. I lost my legos that I got for my birthday last year. I wonder where they are?
September 1, 1997
I had a bad day. I keep telling Amane to leave me alone when my door is closed. But she came in today anyway. She is so dumb. I was playing with fire again and she was holding Apples and Apples got scared and tried to run away but she got in the fire and she got hurt and now I got yelled at. It wouldn't have happened if Amane hadn't had come in. It's her fault Apples got hurt. My birthday is tomorrow.
September 2, 1997
I killed Apples.
October 9, 1997
I wish it was still summer.
February 16, 1999
I hate school. I hate everyone in it. I hate this place. There's nothing to do. Everyone is boring. I think we're going to move. Dad won't stop crying. I wish Amane was still here. It's my fault they're dead.
May 3, 1999
May 16, 1999
Nothing to do.
June 6, 1999
Found some kittens.
August 27, 1999
It's almost my birthday. I'll be 14. I don't care. I lost my lighters and all the kittens are gone now. Where did I put my lighters? At least I can find more kittens. Or a puppy or something. The neighbor's never shuts up. I'm so bored. I can't shake this feeling.
September 16, 1999
I had my IQ tested. I've been moved to the gifted classes. Not like it changes anything. It's all the same.
October 1, 1999
My Dad keeps praying, like it'll bring back Amane and Mom. It won't. I know it. They're dead because of me. I shouldn't have done it. I hate myself.
December 19, 1999
Can't stop watching people. I'm so bored. The chick next door never closes her windows. She might have seen me but it was dark, so probably not. If she did, I'll just stop watching her and start watching someone else. I wouldn't really care if I got caught anyway. At least it would be exciting.
January 1, 2000
New Years. All the fireworks were going off so it made covering up the noise really easy. Just stomped on them enough and dumped them into the river. I burned the other ones in a dumpster so I don't think anyone would find them. They'd probably just think it was firework dust if they saw the bodies. They're pretty small.
January 7, 2000
I hate myself.
January 8, 2000
I hate myself.
January 9, 2000
I hate myself
January 10, 2000
I hate myself
January 11, 2000
I hate myself
January 12, 2000
I hate myself
January 13, 2000
I hate myself
January 14, 2000
I hate myself
January 15, 2000
I hate myself
January 16, 2000
I hate myself
January 17, 2000
I hate myself
January 18, 2000
I hate myself
January 19, 2000
I hate myself
January 20, 2000
It didn't work. The rope snapped.
February 2, 2000
I hate myself
February 6, 2000
I hate myself
December 4, 2000
I hate myself
December 25, 2000
Dad came back from Egypt for Christmas. He got me some stuff. He got me this golden ring. I don't know what it is or why he got it for me, but it's sort of cool I guess.
February 18, 2001
I don't really know what to do anymore.
April 11, 2001
How is school? How are you and mother? Your brother started his new school today. I've only been there a little while and on the very first day I made a lot of new friends. They asked if they could come over to my apartment to play some games. I'm really looking forward
April 14, 2001
I've met the spirit of the Ring. I think my life is going to be better, now.
I'm not sure how happy I am with this chapter. I like the first 2,000 words the most. Haven't written porn in a while, so I'm a bit rusty. And I made Ryou's journals purposefully sort of vague (also because it's 2 am and I'm really tired). What I don't outright say about what he did will always be the most disturbing. You can fill in the gaps.
I drew some art for this fanfic one day while bored. If you want to check it out, it's on my tumblr. Only 2 more chapters to go!
Reviews are very appreciated.