AN/ ok so this is my first official smut on this site, so please ignore my lack of boldness. Before you read this I must warn you that if you're only here to read about guys fucking you should turn around and leave before I disappoint you any further. No actual plot..? Intended to make this 1000 words long. But I guess my mind works overtime at 3 a.m. Dedicating this to my cute Shouhei, she's damn sweet and amazing like that. I LOVE YOU. so yeah without any further ado, dig in ;D and Deni too I guess, she helped me out xD
Warnings: sexual content, slight blood and violence
Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki
And I will keep you here, locked up forever
For no one to see, for no one to hear
It hurts. It hurts and it burns is what he thinks. Misaki moves a little and tries one more time. He doesn't succeed. No luck, the chains just won't burn, won't melt. They stay in the same place, hot against the flesh of his wrists, mercilessly burning the tender skin there. A trickle of blood slips down his pale arm and drips onto the cold concrete floor.
It won't melt, it won't, it won't… That thought stabs him like a cold blade slicing at his heart and Misaki knows that he's afraid. He's is terrified very much so, he cannot escape, not this time. No amount of trying to burn these chains will pay off; no one is going to save him.
Yata Misaki is caught, caught like a bird, wings chained in a place he recognizes to be the drug dealer's he went to wreck hideout. Alone. Without saying a word to anyone.
Oh how he regrets it…
It was supposed to be a raid like any other. Never had he expected to meet him here.
"You shouldn't heat these, Misaki.~ I took that lovely power of yours into consideration. You will only burn your wrists like that, so give it up."
That voice and the happy sing song tone chilled him to the bone, scared him even more than he already was and all he wanted was to run, run away as far as he could and put distance between himself and that psycho. It was no use, the sharp tone in the other's voice stung him, filled him with desperation. His gut feeling was telling him, screaming at him to hide and run or it wouldn't end well. He felt like a little mouse that was cornered by a huge hungry cat that was about to pounce. The look in those blue eyes wasn't merely hungry, oh no, it was something bigger than that and Misaki had to hold back a wince. He failed however and tried to mask it, to make it seem like it was a pained sigh, but the other noticed, it was no use to try and hide anything from the taller man. He knew his dear Misaki like no other after all. There was an amused chuckle and Misaki felt the tip of Saruhiko's saber press into his bare shoulder only covered by his black tank top. He tried to move back, flinching at the cold sharp metal, tugging his shackles desperately only to have them clang mockingly as if making fun of his weak attempts to escape, but all that struggle was rendered useless, the tip of the dark haired man's blade was still firmly pressed into his shoulder. Saruhiko clicked his tongue and laughed.
"My my, Misaki if I didn't know any better, I would think that you're actually scared.~ Oh could it be that you're really scared~? Hmmm… that's no good, we can't have that expression on your face."
Misaki felt his eyes widen even more when he felt that blade make its way down his shoulder and onto his collarbone, right over his Homra mark jabbing it slightly. Fully knowing what was about to happen next, Misaki tried to reason the other.
"N-no. Don't do it. Just because you dared to tatter your own mark doesn't mean that—"
He was cut short when the blade slashed the sensitive skin there, deep and burning over his collarbone down the red tattoo, leaving a red gash in its path. It was rather deep-drawn, Yata could tell. Blood slid freely and he hissed in pain.
"Misaki, my sweet Misaki, I don't really care. I don't fucking care, because did you know? It doesn't matter. That mark right here, I hate it. I hate to see it on you, marking you like this. I don't want his mark on you; no one can mark you, not Mikoto Suoh, not anyone." Saruhiko hissed anger apparent in that melodious voice of his. Misaki shuddered and bit his lip trying not to utter a sound, eyes squeezed shut. "Only I am allowed—"
"To put marks—"
"Do you understand, Misaki? Remember it when you will look at the scars I left you and remember it well. Think of me every time you will look at them."
The pain racked his body and Misaki tried his best to regulate his shallow breaths. His shirt was barely hanging on him, revealing a small heart shaped cut on his chest, right bellow the deep slash on his Homra tattoo that was bleeding profusely. The red soaked the thin fabric of his once black shirt making it even darker. What wasn't soaked in the torn fabric was painting his left side in crimson. Scars. For sure it will scar. Anger boiled in his chest.
"Fuck… you." Misaki bit out through clenched teeth. "Let me go, you sick fuck, I don't ever want to see your traitorous face ever again, you damn monkey."
The smirk that was adorning the taller man's face disappeared in a second. He clicked his tongue, face impassive not betraying what Saruhiko was feeling, eyes lighting up with some strange emotion. Misaki tried his best to decipher it but he knew that whatever was the meaning behind the face that traitor was making it wasn't good. Nothing about this new Fushimi was good either way. He just wasn't the same person Misaki knew. And the short man was of course right. Before he could even bat an eyelash, Fushimi dropped down on his knees, right in between Misaki's spread legs, another mistake he quickly thought, dug the thumb of his left hand into the gash on his Homra tattoo and rubbed it harshly making the shorter man gasp, drawing even more blood out.
"You're making this difficult, Misaki. Why are you so set on denying me all the time? Always with your stupid words of rejection…" With that he moved his hand, smearing the sticky red over Yata's chapped lips, making the shorter one cringe at the metalish scent that assaulted his senses, and wrinkle his nose. "You're sick…" Misaki spat, knitting his eyebrows together. Saruhiko's sick fascination with blood always unnerved him. The blue eyes glittered once more and Misaki felt the dark haired man's thumb rub his lower lip harder and push itself past his pale lips, fingers rubbing his jaw roughly.
"I don't think you understand me, Misaki. Perhaps I need to make it even more clear?" fingers clasped tightly at the shorter man's jaw in a steely grip, squeezing. "I fucking had it, my dear Misaki. You keep rejecting me, but I have you now. I want you to know that this time I won't let you go easily. No one will come and save you, your precious Suoh Mikoto won't save you. I won't let anyone interfere with this. Red or blue it doesn't matter, I don't care about any of that. You're completely at my mercy and mine for the taking. I want you to know that no matter where you run—"
The cold fingers slid down underneath his chin lifting it slightly for a better view at his mortified face. Misaki tried to pull away but the slender fingers kept his face in place. Seeing how this did not work he tried to look away, avert his gaze anywhere but those sapphire eyes before him, the eyes that could drown him. No luck.
"No matter where you hide—"
He was too close. Too damn close, the warm puffs of air against his lips made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, flesh quickly developing goose bumps and brain screaming commands at him to turn his head, melt his binds and run away, curl into himself like a hedgehog that spotted danger.
"I will always find you, Misaki. I will find you no matter where you are. You can't get rid of me. Hate me as much as you want, reject me, it won't make me stay away. You're the only thing in this boring world that is worth my attention."
One moment it was close enough for a kiss, but that moment ended all together. Fushimi released his face, placing his arm against the wall Misaki was leaning against and bent down to whisper into his ear. That one sentence that ruined everything.
That one sentence he did not want to hear, the words he dreaded to hear and feared the most.
"You're my little bird, Misaki, so how about I mark you as mine?"
"Y-You… wouldn't d-dare. Let me go, b-bastard, y-you don't want to do this." The shorter man was shaking. Fear gripped at his heart, guts twisting painfully inside his stomach and the gravery of the whole situation he was in dawned on him harder than before. He was not stupid, he had enough common sense to get where this was leading and he did not want to go there. Fushimi said it himself he was at his mercy, there was nothing he could do but helplessly tug at his binds and try to blend with the wall behind his back, cold and hard. Every sound seemed clearer than before the dripping of water somewhere in the corner, the faintest of sounds of Shizume city and Yata had to hold back the urge to scream. A scream of desperation or a scream of help, that, he did not know. No one would hear him either way. All he could do was to swallow his frustration and face this nightmare head on. He felt the burn in his eyes, a familiar burn of something like tears, a hitch in his nose, but it wasn't quite it. He did not want this; this person here wasn't the one he wanted. He wanted someone from the past, someone who probably did not exist. Someone he admired, perhaps even loved and that person loved him too, loved him genuinely.
Not like… this.
What was this even? It was sick and twisted. Bitter. Not sweet at all.
"Don't worry, I won't hurt you…much. After all, you're someone of great importance to me. You don't have to look so panicked. I hate that face on you. I'll change it into something more…" There was another sharp stab of pain as Saruhiko did the same thing as before, deepening the wound. "…pleasurable."
Misaki watched with wide eyes as Saruhiko brought his hand to his face only to lick of the droplets of crimson from the tip of his thumb. That smirk was so pleased it creeped the orange haired man out, how could that traitor lap at his blood like it was the best damn thing to reach his taste buds. A shiver of disgust and perhaps something else racked down his spine. The smirk turned into a grin after that.
"Ah, I see~ are you enjoying the view, Misaki~? Has the fear disappeared?"
"Go die in a ditch, you fucktard."
"Your feisty ways won't help you. After all, I will make you mine, so be a good boy and watch that attitude."
A rustle of clothes made him face Saruhiko once again who was ever so slowly taking of the blue SCEPTER4 coat with a blissful expression on his face. Yata felt panic flood him once again, but he decided to do his best and fight the unwanted feeling away. He wouldn't go down without a fight, even if his gut feeling was telling him that it was useless and that Saruhiko had him pinned, chained down where he wanted him. "S-stay away, creep." Yata hissed lowly, trying his best to make his voice sound natural and not shaky, failing miserably. "I won't let you, don't you fucking dare to touch me, I will fucking burn your hands off, I don't want this."
The last one seemed to have caught the black haired man's ears. A mistake.
"You're a really bad liar, Misaki. You don't want this? I am sure your body disagrees, and I will prove it to you. But I really could care less about what you want and what you don't. Maybe if you hadn't rejected me… ah, maybe it wouldn't have ended like this, hmmm… How long has it been since I touched you like this? It's too bad you don't remember anything from that time, but I am sure your body does."
A sharp clang indicated the fact that Saruhiko had finally let go of his saber in order to get his both hands free. Pushing one hand behind the thin dark cloth he pulled at the flimsy remnants of Misaki's black shirt tearing it in half until the very bottom, brushing his knuckles against the smaller man's flat stomach in a teasing manner. Like a frightened animal, Yata tried to jump back, lifted his legs from either side of Saruhiko's knees and tried to kick the taller man only to have his hips immobilized in the others steely grip and dragged onto Saruhiko's lap, but the smaller man wasn't done. He tried to lift his right leg and kick the other's shoulder in hopes of sending him flying, but that too was stopped, the leg was lifted over the other's shoulder and held in place by his hand, fingers digging into the pale thigh hard enough to bruise. He tried to wiggle his way out but it failed and they were left in this awkward and far too intimate for Misaki's liking position. His wrists burned from the pressure and stretching.
"Are you done yet?" Saruhiko growled, obviously displeased with the Misaki's little act of refusal.
"Not until you let me go."
"That won't happen."
Misaki was about to bristle at the other like an angry feline with its tail tugged, but before he could even react, the taller one bended down and pushed his lips against his into a searing kiss. Misaki tried to turn away, but the other let go of his legs completely and bent even more, successfully rendering both of Misaki's legs useless and grabbed his face to keep the shorter male in place which proved to be quite hard. Saruhiko tried to push past the pale pink lips that were growing darker every moment from the sheer force of the kiss, but Yata did not give in and tried his best to keep them closed, teeth clenched tight. One hand snaked to the back of the shorter male's head and wound itself into orange locks, tugging forcefully leaving him gasping in pain and took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into the hot cavern. Misaki felt as if one of blue clan's lightning attacks had hit him, a force of one thousand volts racking down his mind, shutting out his senses, overwhelming him. Kissing Saruhiko was like playing with fire, one wrong movement and you could get burned. The tongue explored his mouth as if searching for something, slid against his own and Saruhiko groaned into his mouth in annoyance. Only then did Misaki realize that it was because he himself was not responsive, too shocked to move. It seemed to have brought him down back to earth and wasting no time, he forcefully bit down on the other's tongue. Saruhiko winced in pain and immediately retracted his tongue back, leaving behind a taste of copper, his blood.
"Ow, what the fuck, Misaki? That fucking hurt!" The taller man bristled, wiping the blood from his lower lip that was oozing gore.
"W-what the fuck? You just kissed me, you jackass, and you're saying that? How fucking dare you to even—mhhpf?"
Another harsh kiss was placed onto Misaki's lips but he was already done with this stupidity and got ready to bite a second time. As if sensing what he was thinking, Fushimi ended the kiss only to whisper in warning
"Bite me one more time and I will make sure that tattoo will be gone from your skin and fuck you on the spot."
Wasting no time to enjoy his well earned quality time with Misaki, he made sure to kiss him properly this time. Still forceful but not as much as before, and if it were any other time, any other situation Misaki would mistake this kiss as loving. A type of kiss that would make your toes curl and turn you lightheaded. But not for long.
Fushimi wasn't the romantical type, if anything he was a little fucking sadist, and Misaki knew it. The soft rub of lips against his quickly turned forceful, tongue pushing and probing his mouth in a sensual way, knowing all the right spots that would make the shorter male melt a little even if it was unwillingly. It didn't take long for Saruhiko to memorize them all, after all he memorized everything about Misaki quite quickly and with a little more coaxing Misaki started kissing back, uncertain at first but then fierce just like the other. It felt sick. Weird.
Dizziness started kicking in over the lack of oxygen, but Saruhiko pressed on not willing to part from his dearest just like that. A slight moan reverberated, a moan that Misaki was sure he couldn't make, especially not something like that and the taller man's lips ever so slowly parted from his, a translucent strand of saliva connecting them and slowly falling apart, trickling down Misaki's chin as he tried his best to catch his breath without looking like a fish that's been pulled out of the water.
"See, Misaki?~ I… haaah… told you. You want this. Your body wants this. So let me do it." Saruhiko whispered against his ear whilst trying to catch his own breath too. There was a weak laugh, the warm puff and panting making Misaki's flesh get goosebumps there.
"You're damn crazy if you think that this proves anythi—nhh!"
If Saruhiko was talented in one thing it would be his ability to drive people crazy with the slightest of touches. Wasting no time he latched himself onto the side of Misaki's neck, sucking on a particularly sensitive spot until it turned a lovely shade of red, biting it just to make sure it held it's effectiveness and moving to make another one, hair tickling the side of Yata's neck in a pleasing way which bothered the orange haired man. Everything about this was too pleasurable and it wasn't supposed to be that way. He was practically raped, he wasn't supposed to enjoy this at all, yet a part of him wanted this like crazy. Every lick, every nip and slide of that hot tongue leaving a trail of pink dots in its path made Yata go crazy and maybe he really truly was.
All he wanted was more more more- oh god, yes there!
That sinister voice echoed in his ears as those cold hands slid down his waist, occasionally brushing against the overly sensitive areas, mostly his chest or more accurately the dusky nipples and the skin around his navel.
"Do you like it when I touch you here, Misaki? Does it drive you crazy...? And here…? Tell me where you like it, where you want me." It was that voice, that damn voice that made him feel like this, flustered and needy, it was no surprise Saruhiko was always surrounded by women, one bat of his eyelash one wave of his finger and they were throwing themselves at his feet and Misaki was so jealous, so damn jealous but he wasn't sure of what exactly, Saruhiko or those girls that were lucky enough to get pleased like this. Like he was right now, panting and writhing in some sick and twisted sense of pleasure wanting more of this like some goddamn slut. And Saruhiko was more than eager to give it to him.
Hands slid down his hips, Saruhiko's fingertips worked on the zipper of his shorts and disappeared under the waistband of the khaki colored cloth and Misaki gasped, feeling those slim fingers against his fastly swelling hard on, only a thin piece of fabric in between. His back arched into the touch and sparks of pleasure traveled down his spine. All he knew was that he wanted more of this touch, more intimate than some lame petting through that constricting fabric, more friction.
"Do you enjoy this, Misaki? What do you want me to do? Say it,"
He would rather jump of a building than say it. His pride wouldn't let him, the embarrassment was already too great.
"T-Touch me." Looks like his mind and body weren't cooperating. "Just fucking d-do iiiiiit—ah fuck!" His mind went completely blank and he bucked his hips in one sharp thrust against the traitor's hand to prove his point, the pleasure too damn great.
"What a slut…"Saruhiko chuckled amused, but complied immediately delving his hand into his dearest's boxers, tugging down a bit to allow him space, wrapping his fingers around the shorter man's shaft stroking in slow teasing movements, driving the other crazy. Heat coiling in his abdomen, Misaki thrust into the inviting warmth of Saruhiko's palm fed up with the black haired man's teasing. Saruhiko quickened the pace for his impatient Misaki, smearing the beginnings of the others precum, stroking experimentally, calculating, trying to post pone the other's release. The view was certainly beautiful, his dear bird chained down, bleeding and flushed, a light sheen of sweat caking his eyebrow, skin pink, marked, lips bruised and wet from kisses parted slightly whilst trying to suppress the moans. Fushimi did not want that and squeezed the other's erection, rubbing that particular spot near the tip and it was more than enough for the other to let loose, head thrashing to the sides, back arched beautifully. It was all too much, the view just sent another rush of something pleasurable straight to his groin. He was so damn hard, more then he ever was, the mere image of Yata coming was more pleasant than any erotical sight. No pornography could compare with the beauty underneath him. He couldn't hold it back any longer the need to fuck the shorter boy senseless overwhelmed him, the need to put his mark on him. Pulling his hand out, he looked at the other only to see Yata drowsing. Masturbation and its little grains of satisfaction were nothing compared to this. Probably the most amazing release Yata had in the whole nineteen years of living. He opened his eyes only to find Saruhiko sliding his tongue over his fingers, licking of the remnants of his semen, white and clear, making sure not to miss the little droplets that rolled down his wrist. The sapphire eyes burned him, analyzing and full of lust. It was definitely lust in Saruhiko's eyes.
"You had your fun, Misaki, now I am going to have mine. I am going to fuck you now, I can't fucking wait anymore."
Misaki perked up at this, freezing. He quickly tried to slide his shaky hips of the other's lap. "N-No. You already did this, you are not going to—to…"
Saruhiko once again grabbed his legs like before, pulling Misaki back. Misaki tried to struggle, to kick, but his body was jelly like still in the post orgasm afterglow.
"I don't want this, let go, fuck, let me go—"
Knowing no other way in order to shut the shorter male up, Saruhiko kissed him. Misaki weakly trashed against him, pushed his teeth into his lower lip but nothing helped. Growling Saruhiko bit Yata back, harshly, letting the blood flow and mix with his own, a taste of metal and a faint taste of semen, fueling him even more like an aphrodisiac, absolutely intoxicating. Without breaking the kiss he yanked at the material of Yata's shorts exposing him. Pulling away, he broke the thin trail of saliva with his index finger and pressed them against Misaki's lips,
"Suck, or this will hurt like a bitch. If you bite I won't make it better."
Frowning, the orange haired male reluctantly opened his mouth and took the fingers in mindful of Fushimi's warning. He licked at the fingers, tongue lapping at the skin coating them. Saruhiko tried his best to control himself through the entire process, it was painful to even have his uniform pants on and he couldn't wait to get rid of them and bury himself into that inviting heat.
"W-What are you going to do with them—ahhh!"
A scream of pain pushed past Misaki's lips as Saruhiko pushed the first finger in knuckle deep into his entrance not too gently, stretching him. It burned in an uncomfortable way and Yata wriggled, trying his best to slide the finger out, yet in response another one was added, this time more slowly pulling at his insides.
"S-Stop! It h-hurts, take 'em out. Take them out…"Misaki pleaded in a weak voice that sounded strange to his own ears, breathy and panicked. All he wanted was for this torture to end, the digits that were probing his entrance in a scissoring manner gone. The taller man clicked his tongue in annoyance and pressed his fingers deeper as if reaching out to something, searching, yet failing to find it. That one particular spot that would make his Misaki melt with pleasure and change the pained face he was showing. The saliva was quick to dry and the other's shallow breathing turned even more pained, brown eyes sparkling from the unshed tears in pain and with another click Fushimi finally gave up in disappointment and retracted his hand away from the puckered entrance, making Misaki sigh in relief as the pain slowly faded. But not for long…
Something far more thicker than that nudged at his entrance and Misaki felt his eyes widen in utter terror. This wasn't happening—
"N-No, stop. Saru—"
His pleas fell on deaf ears and he felt Fushimi surprisingly slowly bury himself inside, sliding past the tight ring of muscle, tearing at his pink insides. Blinding pain filled him and he was sure that he was going to black out if this keeped up. A few tears prickled down from his eyes, slid down his hot cheeks and he heard Fushimi groan in pleasure somewhere above him, voice strained
"Shit, Misaki, you're so fucking tight—guess that is expected from a—nhh virgin like you, huh?"
The shorter male couldn't think of any response, not really paying attention to Saruhiko's snarky comments, set on making the painful pricks disappear. Pain more intense than ever filled his mind, numbed his body made his toes curl and Misaki feared the moment when the taller one would start moving.
"G-Get it out, you damn monkey, it h-hurts."
Another mistake. You did not refuse Fushimi Saruhiko and did not deny him things he wanted. A sharp thrust racked his body, the taller one rubbed his hips against the other's in a teasing way.
"Be a good boy, Misaki and shut the hell up.~ I don't want you resisting like this, so how about I make you beg for more?" Saruhiko gripped his hips and lifted them up in order to change the angle. "How about I drive you crazy, make you beg for release, fuck you senseless until you can't stand?"
That voice drove him crazy… Misaki felt himself shiver in anticipation, pain subsiding, the other's words traveling down to his groin that was ever quickly coming back to life and ready for more, ready for the pleasure Fushimi promised, a thing that did not went unnoticed by the dark haired male. Seeing his Misaki finally accepting him, excited and aroused, pushed his self control even more over the limits and he dived down, tracing his tongue along the side of the chained man's jaw. Tracing a hot pattern there, he tried to make the other relax and rolled his hips experimentally. The pain was still blinding but it was no longer just some stab of knife, but something else. Pleasurable, wanted. A good kind of pain. Lips parting in a breathy moan he scratched at his palms fingers curled, searching for anything to hold on to, legs locking around Fushimi's hips. The other laughed silently and tried his best not to fuck the other senseless set on prolonging this, pleasure filling his mind. Misaki gasped when there was a brush right against that spot that made him go cry out in blinding pleasure, his vision hazy, back arching and muscles twitching. A simple brush against it and he was a mess and Fushimi wondered what would his dearest's reaction will be like once the spot was his dead on. Angling the thin strong hips he tried to hit that spot again and succeeded. It was more than enough to make Misaki's will bend down, as he moaned, not giving a fuck about how pathetic he might have looked only wanting more of this, this intense feeling that made his cheeks flush and his fingers dig even deeper into his palm, knuckles white from sheer force, bruising.
"Looks like I found it. How does it feel, Misaki~?" Saruhiko tried his best to not give into temptation to slam into the other and make him come on the spot and brushed against that spot lightly, hearing a small whine escape the other. "Look at yourself, you're a mess. I wonder what would happen if I left you like this."
The mere idea of being left like that, aroused and chained scared Misaki senseless.
"S-stop teasing, S-Saru—"Misaki whispered, and tried to roll his hips back onto the taller one's cock pushing blindly, seeking pleasure, but his hands kept him in place.
"Beg for it."
"Wh—ahh, no way, nhh, in your d-drea…ah dreams."
He was so close, so damn close onto hitting that spot and the shorter man knew that Saruhiko was fully aware of it and did this on purpose, this slow almost lazy roll of his hips.
"Beg for it, Misaki, or you won't get it. Tell me what you want."
The pleasure was so blinding he felt like crying in frustration. Swallowing his pride he begged.
"F-Faster…"he mumbled under his breath and closed his eyes tightly.
"What was that, Misaki? I couldn't hear you."
"I-I said faster. Fuck me, bastard, stop with your useless teasin-"
It was enough for Saruhiko. It took a few sharp thrusts into that spot and Misaki was begging for more, pride and all be damned, pushing blindly in order to meet Saruhiko's pace and create more friction between them.
"That's—ahhh more like it. Good boy. ~ Now look at me, Misaki. I wanna see your eyes when you come." The shorter one did not listen to any of it, lost in his own world. Not liking the fact he was ignored, Saruhiko pulled one hand away from the other's rigid hips, and grabbed the man's face, squeezing harshly. "Look. At. Me. Misaki."
Reluctantly the orange haired man obeyed and opened his eyes only to find those blue eyes staring into him, through him, making him feel naked under that gaze. It was at that moment that he felt something click and he knew Saruhiko felt it too, pulling his chin up into a fierce kiss, tongues lashing in a battle Misaki immediately gave up and let the taller take the lead, brushing his tongue sloppily against his. Taking this as a sign of acceptance, Saruhiko quickened his pace, letting the weak moans resound in their connected mouths, fueling him, making his thrust stronger and more erratic. Ending the kiss making, Misaki whine at the loss of contact, he admired the view of disheveled chained man, licked the other's bruised pink lips and the translucent strand of saliva that was trickling down the corner of his mouth.
"You're so fucking beautiful, Misaki… I could stare at you forever. You're mine, mine only, no one is allowed to see you looking like this, only me—nhh."
"Say my name Misaki, say it. My full name…"
He was so damn close to coming, so close yet it seemed so far away, that bliss. That name rolled down his tongue, so familiar and warm.
"S… Saruhiko. "
So close, so damn close…
Please what…? He wasn't, he wasn't sure what his body wanted, what his tired love drunk mind wanted, seeking blindingly for something familiar, something he wanted more than anything. He heard his name chanted from above him, a never ending mantra, and it threw him over the edge, mind blank, vision white and hazy along the edges.
"Misaki, Misaki, my sweet Misaki, I love you, I fucking love you so damn much—"
Those few damn words were enough for him to make him come undone, release without a slightest touch, toes curling, eyes squeezed shut. Saruhiko followed close after spilling his own load inside, filling the chained man to the brim with a throaty moan and a quiet whisper of his name, clinging to him for dear life, as if afraid that if he was to let go, Misaki would disappear, or he would wake up from a dream to realize that this was not real. Fake. Yet it was very much real.
"Don't forget this, Misaki, don't go—shit, just don't ever leave, I love you—I fucking love you so much."
He felt Fushimi's arms wrap around his limp noodle like body and hug him close, making his own arms bend painfully, chains rattling in protest. The warmth, that familiar warmth develops his body, covers him like a warm blanket in the middle of a cold winter, nice and pleasant against the skin. Misaki slowly breathes in and out, the scent of cinnamon, Saruhiko's scent, and the aroma of sex still hangs heavily in the air and he feels himself dosing off, tired from their previous activities, light headed from the blood loss. Saruhiko trembles against him, arms shaking yet he's not sure why. Both of them aren't.
"I wonder why… I can't… quit you." Misaki whispers more to himself than the other and closes his eyes, body slack, the metal of his chains clicking at the strain. "Ah… who knows maybe I too… feel that I—"
Saruhiko's heart pounds somewhere in the back in his throat, squeezing. C-could it be that…? Was it possible…?
He needed to make sure.
Could it be that you love me…
It was too late. The shorter man was already asleep.
It doesn't matter if you hate me… I will come back for more. That's just the way we are.
It is impossible for either one of us to quit. So I will lock you away for no one to see no one to hear. And keep you all to myself.
Forever until the bitter end.