Captive

A Death Note Fanfiction

Captive was the singular word that could be used to describe the relationship. Indeed, it was quite clumsy, unethical, and even sadistic at times. However, there wasn't a simple word other than that, captive, that could describe the sheer and utter obsession he had. He kept the other all for himself, not daring to even think of the possibility of sharing the beautiful pet of his with any supplementary soul. No, his heart, mind, body, being, his everything belonged to the older man. No matter what, he would see fit that the boy was his, nothing more. That's why he was the captor… He had an ungodly requirement for the younger.

Comical, it was. The simple thought of his desires made him cackle. He never meant it to go so far. No, that was the least of his plans. However, not all of the ill-fitting happenings were fault of his. He'd never thought the younger would show any emotion. He didn't know the young boy would cling to him as he fell deeper into the hole of needing said boy. He'd wondered what had happened to the heartless child he began wishing for. It turned into a mess of white. Ragged breaths, accelerated heartbeat, he lay under the older man's watchful gaze, his harsh grasp. His whitish hair matched the snowy clothing from button-up, long sleeved shirt to stretchy pants and the socks on his pale feet. If one didn't know any better, they'd think the grey-eyed boy were a patient at a mental asylum. The elder knew him quite a bit more than that, though. He was aware of everything from the pert, flushed nubs on his chest to the very warm, clenching feeling of his innards. It seemed so foreign, the thoughts of the tiny genius having a functioning part of him that actually felt. If he attempted to explain it to the rest of the team members, they would probably ask him if he were in his right state of mind. He was, in fact, perfectly sane and knew his eyes didn't deceive him. He saw the boy responding in ways he never had before, saying things most didn't even acknowledge that he understood. For example, no one would figure that the words 'love' and 'need' would come out of his mouth when describing how he felt about someone. Perhaps the 'feeling' would have to settle in.

The elder grasped him, interlocking their two sets of lips in a heated and needing kiss. Their passionate endeavor, amongst every other they had shared, was just like the first. Though they knew one another much more in that aspect, the emotions were still the same. The older knew all of the thoughts he'd always felt would well up inside, creating a sense of vulnerability and strange need. His lips couldn't comply any quicker or better, speaking in terms. He moved them against the other lumps in perfect synchronization, opening his mouth for a tongue before it even begged for entry. Large, rough hands found themselves adhered to the small of his thin back, toying slightly at the bottom edges of his thin shirt. The younger, still sensitive as ever to the movements the other made, let out a breathy moan. The older seemed to lose all self-control at the sound, ravaging the younger's neck with his mouth. The boy's jugular was nibbled upon for a moment before the mouth moved along, coating the whole area with a thin coverage of saliva. All the while, the younger continued to groan out of pleasure, forming small words that only seemed half coherent at the time. Most of the audible sounds were 'Ahh' and 'Mmh', but the occasional name came from his throat. In broken syllables, and even between the Ahh's and Mmh's, a 'Gevanni' could be heard. Though only partially understandable, the older man proved to be enthralled with the way it rolled of the tiny, plump, pinkish tongue. His replies were grunts of the name 'Near', the younger claiming to love the way it sounded coming from him. The stoic, child-like boy finally let go, being emotive and owned for a short amount of time. They were no longer boss and subordinate, but two lovers bound to the deep hours of the nighttime. 'Near', as he was referred to, didn't seem to mind the occasional clashing of feelings, happened to love unmasking himself. He'd always held up a false façade, ensuring his heart didn't get in the way of his work. He was so skilled at keeping his emotions bottled up, nonexistent; he wasn't even fazed by the pain that built in the pit of his gut. The moment he was taken by the older, claimed, however, he seemed to be unnoticeably happy. Happiness was quite different, but it seemed so addicting. He'd had an irrational thought that he could be glad forever, but when he came to his senses, he was able to put it away once more. No, the only time he allowed himself to think as a normal human was the meetings between him and the man above him at that instant. A long finger found its way to the waistband of the younger's solid white trousers, playing with the edges before completely removing the article from his body. The shirt, though still on his body, was unbuttoned and tattered. The older man had long since removed his lips from the crook of the boy's neck and re-attached to one of the perked nipples adorning his breast. When the elder's entire hand was engulfed by heat from the throbbing object under, he knew the younger required some sort of assistance. Cupping the member through thin, white boxers, the man's hand palmed around. The light-haired boy bucked his hips upward into the motion, thirsty and desirous for more friction. He did the one thing he would never do in front of anyone other than the man. He begged.

"Please," a pause for a loud moan as the older bit the bud on his chest. "I need it… please."

The man didn't need to be supplicated at twice, his mouth moving back up to capture the younger's. Meanwhile, his dexterous hand clasped the fabric of his boxer shorts, yanking them downward. The cold air hit the younger's erection, bidding another 'Ahh' out of him. As if he had been doing it his whole life, the older allowed his fingers to warp around it, tugging and rubbing at the body. He took no time to begin pumping, giving the reddened area upmost attention. Similar to their first time exploring one another's bodies, the young boy was still quite sensitive to the older touch. He couldn't even warn the man before streams of semen secreted from the tip. As he released himself all over the older and his hand, he cried out the name, once more. 'Gevanni'. A last, quick kiss was placed on the fleshy, ruddy lips and the older man licked up the remains of the boy's discharge from his palm. He used the inside of his sleeve to wipe the rest of it off of the younger, whispering a last statement before leaving. "I love you, Near."

"I love you, too…" The younger finally allowed himself to admit.