The Price of Pleasure
For over an hour now, Misaki had been drifting in and out. The medicine given to him had worn off some time ago and all his battered places were complaining again. He could also tell that the stress and the pain of his long night with Usami had pulled him back into one of the fevers that had plagued him since the night of his parent's death.
Added to this, his bladder was again filled, way past the point of comfort and he couldn't get himself to the toilet. He had tried to stand a few times but found himself overcome. He thought he might finally lose control and wet himself when he heard Usami rambling down the hallway and the lock to the door of his room rattle.
Misaki shut his eyes tight against the fear that shook his lean frame. He did this as well in the hopes that Usami would leave him alone if he thought he was still out. His eyes popped wide open again, however, when Misaki heard the author utter his brother's name.
In the dim light, he saw that Usami was on his cellphone, carrying on a casual conversation. It was as if he didn't have a battered hostage being held in the same room, one that within the last twenty-four hours he'd assaulted, drugged, and enslaved.
A cry rose in Misaki's throat but he raised his hand to his mouth and stuffed his fist between his teeth to stifle it. He had no idea what sort of things Usami had been saying to whoever it was he was talking to. Even if that was Takahiro, or anyone else for that matter, and he shouted out, Misaki knew Usami could easily kill him a dozen times before anyone would arrive to assist him.
Akihiko paused, sensing eyes on him. He was amazed that his voice never lost its easy tone as he waited to see what Misaki would do. A trace of a smile curled his mouth when the boy in the bed remained silent, his overlarge, green eyes fearfully tracking him.
Within himself, Akihiko was also conscious, however, that there was some small part that had hoped Misaki would scream and bring the insane game he'd started to a quick, bitter end.
He neared the bed and leaned over, humming assent to Takahiro's worried clucking as he reached out and turned the light at the bedside up further, casting a brighter light in the dim room. He noted Misaki's pale pallor broken by the bright flush of fever on damp cheeks. Reaching into his pocket, Akihiko withdrew the bottle of pain pills. He knew how long it had been since he'd given the first dose. He held the vial out so Misaki could see the pills and tipped his hand back and forth in a gesture of enticement. The hard capsules made a soft rattling as they shifted.
Behave and you don't have to be so uncomfortable.
Akihiko nodded when Misaki's eyes communicated their understanding to his silent offer.
"Ah, well, Takahiro, I see Misaki is awake, so I'll just pass you over to him. I don't know how he might be for you; whoever jumped him, rattled him pretty good."
Misaki unconsciously flinched as a strange cell phone was thrust at him. He looked up at Akihiko with wide eyes as he took the cell with shaking fingers. As soon as he was free of the mobile, Akihiko crossed his arms over his chest and stood there, his expression just shy of fierce.
Swallowing hard, Misaki put the phone to his ear. His voice was hoarse from sleep and his earlier struggles.
"Uh… hello… Nii-chan?"
"Oh, Misaki! I thank Kami-sama, you're okay!"
Misaki drew back when his brother's voice rang so loudly in the quiet room. His eyes darted up to Usami who just stared back, his face unmoving.
Of course the bastard switched it to speaker before handing it over. He wants to hear every word.
At the mad relief in his dear brother's tone, Misaki felt his stomach clench .
"Don't strain yourself to talk now, Misaki; Usagi told me everything!"
Oblivious to the confusion in his little brother's voice, Takahiro, as was his way, rushed on, his usual ramble accelerated by his worry. "Yes, about how you were jumped and he found you on the street.
"Mi-chan, he said you'd been drinking… Now I don't want to lecture you, this is not the time for it, but you and I will have to have a good talk later."
Misaki felt a blush creep into his cheeks at the gentle scold, even as his empty fist clenched at the lie Usami had told. Before he could respond, however, Takahiro chattered on.
"I'm so glad Usagi-san found you, Misaki. I hope you're adequately grateful for what he's agreed to do for us. I feel like I have been such a terrible brother, not realizing the truth of your situation before… Why didn't you tell me you were having issues with Sumi-kun? And you told me that your living space was good… Ah, I have been so negligent."
Dizziness rocked Misaki as he tried to wrap his mind around what his brother was saying, not sure what all Usami had told him. He was unnerved by how seamlessly his captor's lies melded with the truth of his previous situation. His chest hitched, hearing his beloved brother berate himself.
"N no… Nii-chan, you have been a good brother… the b-best. It's my fault, I… I was foolish…"
This was as close to a confession as Misaki could bring himself to make.
If Nii-chan feels this bad without knowing the truth, how much will he hate himself if he knows all that's really happened.
Misaki couldn't bring himself to reveal more, despite how terrible the situation was: his older brother had already given up so much, been so incredibly responsible and he'd failed all Takahiro's efforts.
"Well, young men sometimes make foolish decisions, Misaki." Takahiro sighed, sounding much older than his age. "But at least now, I know that you'll be looked after. I am sure that our parents are watching over us both, that Usagi would offer such a marvelous arrangement for you."
"Arrangement?" Misaki felt stupid that he seemed to only be able to respond in questions, but with Usami looming over him he was fearful of saying anything that might set the man off.
"Yes, I am so happy you'll be staying with him now and he'll help you with school, and you watching over his household. You always did such a good job for us, Misaki, I am sure you'll work hard for him and make me very proud."
Misaki felt unwanted tears fill his eyes at his Nii-chan's praise and his encouraging tone. It was clear that Usami had couched things in such a way that kept the truth from his brother, but that made all the pieces fit together. With his trusting nature, Takahiro would never suspect how sordid and terrible his staying there with Usami really was.
"It will be such a relief to know that Usagi will be there for you. But Misaki, you must be on your best behavior. He is not one to associate with many people, so it really is a privilege, what he has offered you here. And he is an important man with much responsibility; so, you must do your best to never become burdensome."
The earnestness in his brother's voice broke Misaki's heart. He couldn't help but glance up at Usami with his tear-filled eyes. The man was staring back at him now with a strangely troubled expression.
Words caught in Misaki's throat, but at last he was able to choke them out, his eyes never leaving Usami.
"I… will d-do my best, Nii-chan."
"Of course you will, Misaki. I would expect nothing less from you." Takahiro's sweet voice was filled with surety.
"But you're sounding strained, Misaki. I should let you get back to resting. Don't want you to come down with one of those fevers."
Too late, Misaki thought but rather than say this he merely hummed in agreement. A few more brief words in closing and he reluctantly passed the phone back over to Akihiko.
Akihiko took it and clicked it back to non-speaker function. He put the mobile to his ear and then held it, tipping his head to his shoulder as his long-fingered hands opened the bottle and tapped out two pills.
He set these on the sheets in front of Misaki, the teen's hands currently occupied, gripping the bedclothes, white-knuckled. Misaki was holding on, seeking to anchor himself in some way, in response to how his whole world had suddenly slipped and shifted.
Lifting his gaze from the pills, Misaki watched as his false benefactor took the empty glass from the bedside and moved into the bathroom. One of Misaki's hands left the sheets and grabbed his flaccid penis when the sound of running water brought the bursting ache of his bladder roaring back to the front of his conscious.
A moment later the water shut off and Akihiko emerged from the bath with a glass half full of water. He held his cell in the other hand and clicked it off before striding back to the bedside.
He held the glass out.
"Well, I think that went well. Everything seems settled."
Misaki wanted to grab the glass and hurl it, smashing the expressionless face above him, but his mind was already running through the scenarios. If he didn't incapacitate Usami completely with the blow the man would lash out. Even if he could knock Usami senseless he didn't know how he would get away at the moment, he was so weak. On top of his earlier abuse his fever was making every ounce of him ache. He also didn't know the code to the door.
Of course I could call for help on his cell...
He wondered if he'd have to kill Usami to really get away. If he didn't, would the man press charges against him for assault when the authorities arrived? Again, even though he was battered, if Usami was also marked, who would they believe? Would his captor have him tracked down even if he managed to just slip away without calling anyone for assistance?
Considering these things made Misaki's empty belly ache. Even if he was at his most robust, and despite all that had been done to him, Misaki didn't know if he had it in him to kill.
Misaki's thoughts raced.
I have to get stronger.
It seemed from everything that had just happened, Usami wanted to keep him around for a while. His mind went to the money tucked away downstairs.
If I can pretend that everything is okay, make him think that I like him… Once I get well enough, I can find some way to get the money and get away. I can go someplace else and start over. Tell Takahiro it just didn't work out.
Despite his revulsion, Misaki reached for the glass and made sure that his fingers brushed Usami's. Pale eyes widened it the contact and Misaki was surprised when Usami seemed to draw back at the touch.
Misaki picked up the pills and swallowed them. The cool water he downed a moment later, soothed his aching throat.
"Thank you, Usagi-san."
Above him Akihiko gave a small grunt in reply before adding, "You should drink the rest of that. You'll be needing to keep up your fluids."
"Um… Usagi-san…" Misaki dropped his eyes and felt a blush creep into his cheeks. If he'd wanted to pretend coy he couldn't have done it any better.
When Akihiko didn't reply, but remained silently waiting, Misaki stumbled verbally forward, his face growing even hotter than the fever that flushed it.
"Before I put any more in… I need to… uh… get some out... Please?"
Akihiko cocked his head to the side not quite sure of the meaning initially, until he recognized the plea in Misaki's tone.
"Can you not make it yourself?"
He was shocked when a sob suddenly rattled the boy's lean frame in response to the simple question.
Misaki had not meant to cry, but he was sick and hurting and all the emotion he'd been holding back from his Nii-chan in that terrible call surged forward. He moved to throw the glass but he was so weak it looked more like he dropped it. The heavy tumbler fell onto the thick Persian throw with a thud, spilled but unbroken.
"Stupid, Usagi! If I could do you think I would ask for your help?" Misaki stared up at Akihiko with angry green eyes. "I tried, I tried a bunch of times, but I can't get… up… and now I'm about to piss myself."
At these last words, Misaki dropped his head and broke down completely. He was ashamed of his need, of having to ask the bastard who rendered him to this state. At the same time a wave of regret washed over him at his outburst.
You idiot, you're supposed to make him like you… Not piss him off!
Misaki curled into himself when he felt Usami suddenly leaning over him. He braced himself for the blows, but none came. Instead, Misaki was shocked to feel lean, muscular arms scoop him up and himself being carried across the room. The movement calmed him somewhat.
"I told you to ring me if you really needed something… Mr. "D" grade student. So foolish to make yourself suffer more than you have to."
Usami's words were delivered without out anger, but instead in a tone of chiding irritation. Misaki was so stunned by this response he didn't stop to think of what Usami had just called him, and how he could know what his rating was before he'd left school.
"And you also said you didn't want to be disturbed!" Misaki tried to curb his anger again, but he couldn't keep it out of his voice.
You fucker, you forced me and have made me your slave for a year, why the hell would I want to be around you at all!
Rather than say this however, Misaki was wracked with another bout of sobs. This continued even as he felt the blessed chill of the toilet seat under his ass. Misaki covered his face with an arm, even as his other hand immediately pressed his cock down between his legs.
Having to sit like a girl might be humiliating, but this feeling was quickly drown out with relief as his raging bladder suddenly let loose.
Akihiko stood beside Misaki, he cast his eyes down to his recently donned dress shirt noting the wet patches left behind by the teen's tears and made a note to himself to change again, once he got Misaki resettled. Then his uncomfortable eyes traveled back over to the bruised boy hunched over, face covered, sitting and sobbing miserably on the toilet.
A dozen complex emotions warred within him at this pitiful sight, knowing he was the author of this just as truly as any of his books.
Yes, but Misaki could very well have found himself in even worse straits than this if left on his own.
A sharp pang of doubt pierced Akihiko's bowels.
And I am sure he's just overreacting, if he's not purposely trying to play on your sympathy. I know you felt how hot he was, he's got a fever. But remember how weepy you used to get when you felt ill?
Akihiko frowned at the voice in his head. This had a different tenor than his usual ones and he wondered where this unexpected commenter had come from. He realized he much preferred his old berating ghosts than this new one who called forward a sudden string of long retrained memories.
Pictures of himself alone in his huge bed in the palatial and empty family mansion filled his mind. He recalled his mother's taunts at his "weakness," his father's annoyance of being asked to stop in after work at his son's bedside instead of being able to retreat undisturbed to his home office upon arriving home.
And also, you're trying to correct his bad behavior… Tears are to be expected. This is for his own good what you're doing…
Again, Akihiko was assaulted by images he'd worked diligently to forget.
How many times have I heard that phrase: 'for your own good'?
A shiver coursed through Akihiko's muscular body and a hand moved unconsciously to his temple as if through this action he could physically press back the past. He turned his eyes back outwards and stared at Misaki again before he was overwhelmed.
The youth had stopped crying, but he was still hunched over, his face covered. Akihiko extended his hand and placed a gentle touch to a bare shoulder, stunned to feel goosebumps on fever-heated flesh. He felt Misaki cringe beneath his fingers.
Behind the blind of his arm, Misaki's dark head nodded. Akihiko flushed the toilet and then helped the teen up, pulling him back into the cradle of his arms eventually so that he could carry Misaki back to the bed.
Akihiko tried not to think about how small and slight Misaki's wiry form actually was as he shifted the boy in his arms. He also tried to ignore the damp patch on his shirt sleeve as it pressed to his skin: the fabric stained from where his arm had grazed the still-wet tip of Misaki's dick as he'd gathered him.
He settled the boy back into the bed, pulling the sheets and coverlet over shivering, sweat-slicked shoulders before stepping away. He bent and picked up the spilled glass.
Misaki was hard pressed not to sob again at the relief of being able to lie back down. He couldn't believe how exhausted such a minute act had made him. He also felt like he was freezing despite how wet his bangs were against his sheltering forearm.
He struggled weakly, but for only a moment when, after a few minutes, Usami returned to the bedside, gripped his arm by the wrist and forced it away from his face. Misaki kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see his captor, not after this last humiliation, not after everything that had happened.
Green eyes blinked open however, when he felt a cool hand slip gently under the back of his neck and lift his head from the pillow. Misaki looked up through tear blurred eyes.
Usami's face was still stony, but his gaze were filled with a look that frightened Misaki, not in it's cruelty, but rather in an unexpected sorrow.
He dropped his eyes as the cool broad thumb of Akihiko's free hand swept over his bruised, dry, bottom lip. Misaki felt his mouth unexpectedly drop open a bit at this touch. Two new tablets were pressed in against his thick-feeling tongue.
Akihiko followed this with more water from the retrieved and re-filled glass.
Misaki drank this time far more eagerly than the last, his bladder now empty. He coughed lightly taking too much in and the glass was pulled away. Chilled fingers ran through his sweaty forelock making him shiver.
"That will help your fever, and the pain meds should be kicking in any time now."
Closing his eyes again against the soft tone, Misaki gasped out, "Thank you, Usagi-san."
I have to get stronger.
A cool compress was set on his forehead replacing his captor's hand. Despite how cold he felt, this new chill was welcome.
"The doctor will be coming here soon, Misaki. I expect things to go as well with him as they did with Takahiro."
Misaki nodded as the narcotic haze began to seep into his system, strangely comforted that the crispness had returned to his captor's voice. Somehow, this made Usami easier to deal with.
"Yes, Usagi-san. W-who am I after all…?" The words came out in a sleepy stutter. Misaki, starting to drift, was hardly conscious of what he was saying.
Yes, who is he?
Above Misaki, Akihiko winced as the crass voice he was most familiar with suddenly returned.
You think you know everything, but in truth you know nothing. Tell me, how does the reality here compare with all those stories that you write?
"Shut up," Akihiko whispered into the room whose only other noise now was Misaki's quiet sleep wheeze. But there was far more validity in his constant critic than he wished to admit.
When no further response was forthcoming, Akihiko dropped his eyes down to his stained shirt. Rather than go change it as he'd previously intended however, he set the glass back on the nightstand and dropped down to the floor beside the futon. Long legs folded and were drawn up to a broad chest. These held in place within an embrace of lean arms.
Akihiko remained there unmoving as Misaki slipped further into his narcotic slumber. His eyes traveled over the sleeping form, coming to rest upon a pale face whose resting expression was troubled by fever and desperate dreams.
Long... long time since I last updated this story... but I haven't ever completely abandoned on of my fics yet. Hope you enjoyed this...