Blood, pain, fear, lust, and something uncontrollable.
Temptation
Ginzai
The whip dropped from Akito's fingertips, barely heard as it thudded on the hardwood floor. Yuki was curled before him, nothing more than blood soaked hair and a pale stripped back in the dim lighting. His twilight and violet robe was pooled about Yuki's waist; the skin bare to better meet the lash of Akito's anger. Already blood had begun to soak into it. The robe would be ruined. Perhaps there could be punishment later.
The blood was pooling, collecting between the boy's vertebrae to slowly seep in red trails down his sides. It furrowed down the lines between Yuki's ribs and absently Akito noted that he was too slender, that he needed to eat more. He would have to tell Hatori to ensure it later.
Later.
Something in the way Yuki's fingers gripped his hair was particularly fascinating. Yuki was always fascinating, but at the moment, there was something almost indescribable about him. Akito couldn't see the child's face; it was carefully hidden among slender arms, protected from the whip's cruel lash. He knelt, wincing to hear joints crack loudly in the cool air. Yuki's knuckles were white. Akito touched one of them gently and watched, intrigued, as Yuki flinched away from him.
A peculiar sensation stole over him then. It felt oddly as though he was floating, any pain that he might have felt sliding away like so much dust. The blood attracted his attention and Akito stared at it fixedly. It looked like red ribbons were binding the boy in place. The red ribbons of destiny, perhaps, just like in the legends...
He trailed a finger down Yuki's back, liking the thrill of soft, mangled skin below his hands. It felt too warm, feverishly so, and it twitched in response to his exploration. The ribbons smeared under his touch. It was a false destiny.
"Do you hate me, Yuki-kun?" He whispered the words, painting pictures in the blood, scratching off half formed scabs to keep a fresh supply.
"No," Yuki's voice was a small and pained thing. The word was gasped out and could barely be heard.
"No?" Akito smiled and let his finger move up to tap against his lips. He opened them, inserted the digit to slowly suck away the salty fluid. "I think you are lying, Yuki-kun."
"No!" It was more forcefully said, and for a moment, Yuki's bright violet eyes glittered at him before falling under the protection of arms and hair once more.
"Truly?" Akito did not want to see them escape so soon. He licked the last of the blood away before stretching out his hand to fall in Yuki's soft silver-grey hair. He clenched his fist and yanked upwards. Yuki gave a pained squeak, eyes shut tightly as Akito pulled him up and back. A quick shove and Yuki hit the floor again, gasping as his lacerated back hit the ground.
Akito was on top of him before he could squirm away, fingers of one hand finding their place in his hair once more. He knelt over the boy, strangely amused at how Yuki's fists danced upwards but fell quickly back, as though he desperately wanted to shove Akito away but was holding himself from it. It had to hurt, Akito thought and ground his weight into the one under him. It had to hurt desperately; he had not been kind today and any pressure, much less the weight of two, had to be an agonizing thing. The pinched look on Yuki's face confirmed it.
/Good. / Akito thought savagely and tucked a stand of dark grey hair behind one ear. He wanted to do something, something strange, something unusual, but he did not know what. He let his free hand trace down Yuki's cheek, let the blood tipped fingers coat strange patterns there. Yuki was usually a rather pretty creature but now, his features wan and pain stretched, he looked remarkably as he had years ago, when both Yuki and Akito had been ill together. He looked as he had before Yuki had betrayed Akito with his sudden good health. The memory of that brought anger out of introspection. Akito wanted to see Yuki's eyes, see the fear and pain in them, relishing the familiar look.
"Yuki," he leaned close and breathed the words. Yuki started, jerked helplessly against Akito before subsiding once more. "Yuki, look at me."
Yuki didn't answer and his eyes remained screwed shut. Akito slapped him, a quick blow that was more sound than contact. It was a warning and Yuki knew it. His eyes opened.
Akito stared at them. This was his cousin, he hadn't changed. He hadn't suddenly a new face or body. There was no explanation for the strange feelings that Yuki was now inducing in Akito. There was absolutely no reason that he should want to touch lips and eyelids, no reason to feel naked flesh against naked flesh.
Then again, there was no reason not to, either.
He leaned down, following the thought, and let his lips press against those of the other boy. Akito had never kissed someone before. He was sixteen, but had been too ill to seek the affections of another and there wasn't one in the family who would have pursued *him*. Yuki stilled completely under his mouth, his jaw slackening slightly in surprise. Akito took advantage of it, tongue slipping inside, and once there, Yuki could hardly push it out.
It must have been Yuki's first kiss as well. The thought struck him that his cousin was fourteen and no longer bound by sickness. Another might have been where Akito was now. The concept was a hateful one and he followed his lips with his teeth, nipping until the cool mint taste of Yuki's mouth was drowned out by the salt smear of blood.
The kiss was as long as Akito wanted. He analyzed it, sucking one soft lip and then another. There was a burning sensation, as though something else was to be had, something beyond a mere kiss and deeply Akito wished to know what it was. He let his hand roam, touching neck, curling down to where lash marks snaked around shoulders, feeling along the wet lines and lower still to an unbelievably soft stomach. Eventually, out of breath, he pulled back to stare down with half lidded eyes.
"Strange," he murmured, pressing the back of his free hand to Yuki's pain-flushed cheek. At times like this, with Yuki pale save for the spots in his cheeks, he could pretend that his favorite hadn't left his illness behind. For these moments, Yuki looked as sick as Akito usually felt. He looked even more so now, with his lips reddened and eyes huge. Akito's fingers traced patterns and his own name in kanji on the pale flesh, dipping lower and lower, marveling at how the skin only grew sweeter the farther he explored.
It was as though he couldn't help himself. Akito found Yuki's neck to be irresistible, and he bent to nip at it, licking away the taste of sweat and dried blood, following its line to a shoulder that begged to be touched. He could hear a soft whimper in the back of Yuki's throat, a tiny, breathy thing. He could see one of cuts from the whip, still bleeding, a scar in the making layered over countless others already healed.
Akito caught the flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder between his teeth, suddenly wanting to leave another sort of mark. Yuki's whimper turned into a moan, low and pained, unsteady and pure. It sent something zinging through Akito, a strange, marvelous sensation. Akito listened to it, breathing in lavender soap and something else.
Akito could feel something building inside him. Scents and tastes and sensation only made it grow stronger. It was something strange, something completely unknown. It was uncontrollable.
The last thought struck him and Akito stilled, mouth still framing one slender collarbone.
Abruptly Akito stood, pushing himself away. Yuki stared up at him, lying quite still as though afraid of what Akito would do next. His robe was pushed down below his waist, hanging on his hips. The front of it had spilled open to reveal much of his long, slender legs. Akito watched them for a moment, following them upwards to where they were hidden by embroidered cloth. As though realizing his gaze, they twitched and drew together.
There was a fire in Akito's veins. It felt strange, a heavy pooling in his groin which he'd never experienced before. It made him want to do things. Strange things. Odd ones. It made him want to tear open Yuki's robe, lay hands on the boy, to part his thighs and to touch him with things other than hands. Already his right hand had begun to steal forward, his waist begun to bend and his knees to give way.
Akito froze. He stilled his body, turned his gaze from the wide violet one below him. It was a struggle to regain control. He almost couldn't get his breath back, couldn't at all slow the rapid fire pace of his heart.
"Get out." Akito growled it, still unwilling to look at Yuki. There was a pause, then the sounds of a scramble of limbs moving, of cloth shaking itself back into place, arms threading through sleeves. He more felt than saw Yuki's bow. He didn't turn until the sound of soft footsteps that all but ran across the room faded into the nearly silent shnt of the paper door sliding shut.
Then his knees did give out on him and Akito sunk to the floor, staring at the streaks of blood where Yuki had lain. An image of the boy, his pale face flushed under him, his silver hair tossed in abandon about his face, rose in Akito's mind. He reached one hand to the blood and smoothed the drying liquid into the wood.
Bad enough that his body choose to betray him with its damnable ill health. Bad enough that he would die young, while those around him laughed and danced and played. Akito would be damned if he would let it steal away what little time he had left. The feeling of fire in his blood slowly was dying. He refused to let it rise again.
***
Two days later, Akito dismissed Yuki and sent him to live with Shigare. The dog seemed almost surprised that his request had been granted. Akito had laughed at the thought and wondered just what Yuki had told him in order for Shigure to screw up his courage and beg his cousin's freedom.
It almost hurt; Yuki's presence was one of the few things that brought Akito pleasure, but a final meeting where his hands would not stop from reaching out to touch soft hair, where his lips tingled of their own accord and demanded to be pressed against the soft flesh of another's, convinced him that it was the right move to make.
Perhaps once he regained control, Akito would summon Yuki back. And perhaps then, once control had been fought for and won, he would find out what made blood turn to fire.
-fin
24-2-2004
Er.
I don't like the ending. It's rather weak, don't you think? Perhaps it's because I've never actually seen much of Akito outside the first volume of the manga and the first DVD. ^^;; Hopefully I got his character right regardless...
Akito seems interesting to me - from what I can tell, he's rather twisted and angry, mostly at Yuki, and I can only guess that this is because the two are so similar. They both grew up without their parents, both were sickly, small, pretty boys, both with their hair that's only a few shades apart and their skin the same. But then Yuki's health grew better even as Akito's worsened and suddenly they were different. Bad enough to have to die young, but to loose one of your only comforts in the process... I can see why Akito would be angry, even if I don't at all approve of his methods of expressing such.
Akito's anger over this, as well as his possessive nature, is what I was trying to go for in the ficlet. Maybe that's OOC for him, but much of it is completely subconscious in this story, and I doubt he'd ever realize just why he love/hates and needs Yuki so much. If I'm completely off base here, *please* let me know.
Temptation
Ginzai
The whip dropped from Akito's fingertips, barely heard as it thudded on the hardwood floor. Yuki was curled before him, nothing more than blood soaked hair and a pale stripped back in the dim lighting. His twilight and violet robe was pooled about Yuki's waist; the skin bare to better meet the lash of Akito's anger. Already blood had begun to soak into it. The robe would be ruined. Perhaps there could be punishment later.
The blood was pooling, collecting between the boy's vertebrae to slowly seep in red trails down his sides. It furrowed down the lines between Yuki's ribs and absently Akito noted that he was too slender, that he needed to eat more. He would have to tell Hatori to ensure it later.
Later.
Something in the way Yuki's fingers gripped his hair was particularly fascinating. Yuki was always fascinating, but at the moment, there was something almost indescribable about him. Akito couldn't see the child's face; it was carefully hidden among slender arms, protected from the whip's cruel lash. He knelt, wincing to hear joints crack loudly in the cool air. Yuki's knuckles were white. Akito touched one of them gently and watched, intrigued, as Yuki flinched away from him.
A peculiar sensation stole over him then. It felt oddly as though he was floating, any pain that he might have felt sliding away like so much dust. The blood attracted his attention and Akito stared at it fixedly. It looked like red ribbons were binding the boy in place. The red ribbons of destiny, perhaps, just like in the legends...
He trailed a finger down Yuki's back, liking the thrill of soft, mangled skin below his hands. It felt too warm, feverishly so, and it twitched in response to his exploration. The ribbons smeared under his touch. It was a false destiny.
"Do you hate me, Yuki-kun?" He whispered the words, painting pictures in the blood, scratching off half formed scabs to keep a fresh supply.
"No," Yuki's voice was a small and pained thing. The word was gasped out and could barely be heard.
"No?" Akito smiled and let his finger move up to tap against his lips. He opened them, inserted the digit to slowly suck away the salty fluid. "I think you are lying, Yuki-kun."
"No!" It was more forcefully said, and for a moment, Yuki's bright violet eyes glittered at him before falling under the protection of arms and hair once more.
"Truly?" Akito did not want to see them escape so soon. He licked the last of the blood away before stretching out his hand to fall in Yuki's soft silver-grey hair. He clenched his fist and yanked upwards. Yuki gave a pained squeak, eyes shut tightly as Akito pulled him up and back. A quick shove and Yuki hit the floor again, gasping as his lacerated back hit the ground.
Akito was on top of him before he could squirm away, fingers of one hand finding their place in his hair once more. He knelt over the boy, strangely amused at how Yuki's fists danced upwards but fell quickly back, as though he desperately wanted to shove Akito away but was holding himself from it. It had to hurt, Akito thought and ground his weight into the one under him. It had to hurt desperately; he had not been kind today and any pressure, much less the weight of two, had to be an agonizing thing. The pinched look on Yuki's face confirmed it.
/Good. / Akito thought savagely and tucked a stand of dark grey hair behind one ear. He wanted to do something, something strange, something unusual, but he did not know what. He let his free hand trace down Yuki's cheek, let the blood tipped fingers coat strange patterns there. Yuki was usually a rather pretty creature but now, his features wan and pain stretched, he looked remarkably as he had years ago, when both Yuki and Akito had been ill together. He looked as he had before Yuki had betrayed Akito with his sudden good health. The memory of that brought anger out of introspection. Akito wanted to see Yuki's eyes, see the fear and pain in them, relishing the familiar look.
"Yuki," he leaned close and breathed the words. Yuki started, jerked helplessly against Akito before subsiding once more. "Yuki, look at me."
Yuki didn't answer and his eyes remained screwed shut. Akito slapped him, a quick blow that was more sound than contact. It was a warning and Yuki knew it. His eyes opened.
Akito stared at them. This was his cousin, he hadn't changed. He hadn't suddenly a new face or body. There was no explanation for the strange feelings that Yuki was now inducing in Akito. There was absolutely no reason that he should want to touch lips and eyelids, no reason to feel naked flesh against naked flesh.
Then again, there was no reason not to, either.
He leaned down, following the thought, and let his lips press against those of the other boy. Akito had never kissed someone before. He was sixteen, but had been too ill to seek the affections of another and there wasn't one in the family who would have pursued *him*. Yuki stilled completely under his mouth, his jaw slackening slightly in surprise. Akito took advantage of it, tongue slipping inside, and once there, Yuki could hardly push it out.
It must have been Yuki's first kiss as well. The thought struck him that his cousin was fourteen and no longer bound by sickness. Another might have been where Akito was now. The concept was a hateful one and he followed his lips with his teeth, nipping until the cool mint taste of Yuki's mouth was drowned out by the salt smear of blood.
The kiss was as long as Akito wanted. He analyzed it, sucking one soft lip and then another. There was a burning sensation, as though something else was to be had, something beyond a mere kiss and deeply Akito wished to know what it was. He let his hand roam, touching neck, curling down to where lash marks snaked around shoulders, feeling along the wet lines and lower still to an unbelievably soft stomach. Eventually, out of breath, he pulled back to stare down with half lidded eyes.
"Strange," he murmured, pressing the back of his free hand to Yuki's pain-flushed cheek. At times like this, with Yuki pale save for the spots in his cheeks, he could pretend that his favorite hadn't left his illness behind. For these moments, Yuki looked as sick as Akito usually felt. He looked even more so now, with his lips reddened and eyes huge. Akito's fingers traced patterns and his own name in kanji on the pale flesh, dipping lower and lower, marveling at how the skin only grew sweeter the farther he explored.
It was as though he couldn't help himself. Akito found Yuki's neck to be irresistible, and he bent to nip at it, licking away the taste of sweat and dried blood, following its line to a shoulder that begged to be touched. He could hear a soft whimper in the back of Yuki's throat, a tiny, breathy thing. He could see one of cuts from the whip, still bleeding, a scar in the making layered over countless others already healed.
Akito caught the flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder between his teeth, suddenly wanting to leave another sort of mark. Yuki's whimper turned into a moan, low and pained, unsteady and pure. It sent something zinging through Akito, a strange, marvelous sensation. Akito listened to it, breathing in lavender soap and something else.
Akito could feel something building inside him. Scents and tastes and sensation only made it grow stronger. It was something strange, something completely unknown. It was uncontrollable.
The last thought struck him and Akito stilled, mouth still framing one slender collarbone.
Abruptly Akito stood, pushing himself away. Yuki stared up at him, lying quite still as though afraid of what Akito would do next. His robe was pushed down below his waist, hanging on his hips. The front of it had spilled open to reveal much of his long, slender legs. Akito watched them for a moment, following them upwards to where they were hidden by embroidered cloth. As though realizing his gaze, they twitched and drew together.
There was a fire in Akito's veins. It felt strange, a heavy pooling in his groin which he'd never experienced before. It made him want to do things. Strange things. Odd ones. It made him want to tear open Yuki's robe, lay hands on the boy, to part his thighs and to touch him with things other than hands. Already his right hand had begun to steal forward, his waist begun to bend and his knees to give way.
Akito froze. He stilled his body, turned his gaze from the wide violet one below him. It was a struggle to regain control. He almost couldn't get his breath back, couldn't at all slow the rapid fire pace of his heart.
"Get out." Akito growled it, still unwilling to look at Yuki. There was a pause, then the sounds of a scramble of limbs moving, of cloth shaking itself back into place, arms threading through sleeves. He more felt than saw Yuki's bow. He didn't turn until the sound of soft footsteps that all but ran across the room faded into the nearly silent shnt of the paper door sliding shut.
Then his knees did give out on him and Akito sunk to the floor, staring at the streaks of blood where Yuki had lain. An image of the boy, his pale face flushed under him, his silver hair tossed in abandon about his face, rose in Akito's mind. He reached one hand to the blood and smoothed the drying liquid into the wood.
Bad enough that his body choose to betray him with its damnable ill health. Bad enough that he would die young, while those around him laughed and danced and played. Akito would be damned if he would let it steal away what little time he had left. The feeling of fire in his blood slowly was dying. He refused to let it rise again.
***
Two days later, Akito dismissed Yuki and sent him to live with Shigare. The dog seemed almost surprised that his request had been granted. Akito had laughed at the thought and wondered just what Yuki had told him in order for Shigure to screw up his courage and beg his cousin's freedom.
It almost hurt; Yuki's presence was one of the few things that brought Akito pleasure, but a final meeting where his hands would not stop from reaching out to touch soft hair, where his lips tingled of their own accord and demanded to be pressed against the soft flesh of another's, convinced him that it was the right move to make.
Perhaps once he regained control, Akito would summon Yuki back. And perhaps then, once control had been fought for and won, he would find out what made blood turn to fire.
-fin
24-2-2004
Er.
I don't like the ending. It's rather weak, don't you think? Perhaps it's because I've never actually seen much of Akito outside the first volume of the manga and the first DVD. ^^;; Hopefully I got his character right regardless...
Akito seems interesting to me - from what I can tell, he's rather twisted and angry, mostly at Yuki, and I can only guess that this is because the two are so similar. They both grew up without their parents, both were sickly, small, pretty boys, both with their hair that's only a few shades apart and their skin the same. But then Yuki's health grew better even as Akito's worsened and suddenly they were different. Bad enough to have to die young, but to loose one of your only comforts in the process... I can see why Akito would be angry, even if I don't at all approve of his methods of expressing such.
Akito's anger over this, as well as his possessive nature, is what I was trying to go for in the ficlet. Maybe that's OOC for him, but much of it is completely subconscious in this story, and I doubt he'd ever realize just why he love/hates and needs Yuki so much. If I'm completely off base here, *please* let me know.