WARNINGS: Adult Language, Adult Content, Violence, YAOI. Boy on Boy action. If you don't like, kindly fuck off. That being said, this story is a bit graphic, even for yaoi lovers, so if you are a soft-core kind of fan, this might not be your particular peach. Also, by graphic I mean kind of rape. There you go.
Disclaimers: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! or any associated characters or ideas. I also do not own any of the songs quoted in this fic, those belong to Korn. I have no intention of making a profit off of any of this content.
Foreword: I was inspired to write this story while listening to the relatively new Korn CD, The Serenity of Suffering. Assuming you have an adult reading pace (as you should be an adult to read this story) it was intended to accompany the CD in feeling and theme. So, if you want the full experience hop on over to Youtube and open that shit up. Start from song number one. Also I should note that if you are listening to the CD along with the story, I wouldn't bother reading the intermittent song lyrics. You will just lose your pace and get confused.
Enjoy!
The Serenity of Suffering
"…Beaten down, dominated by its sound
growing deep within my head
softly dying, its soul is shed.
Eating me all up inside…
Does nobody know I'm Insane?"
An orange and yellow light streamed through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the fumes rising in the otherwise dark room. Tendrils of smoke snaked upwards towards the deactivated fire alarm, pushing against it softly before dispersing without a sound. The smoke was coming from the cigarette still burning as it rested gingerly on the lip of the ashtray. Everything was still and calm and the only sound in the room came in the form of a low, abrasive static that could be heard coming from his headphones. The beast seemed to be sleeping, for it did not stir when Yamamoto entered their hotel room.
He had knocked but there had been no response, so the taller male decided to enter slowly. It was hard to see through the fog of smoke but he could make out a few small piles of discarded clothing, a growing stack of magazines, and some dark broken glass near both the coffee table and the trash can. There must have been more than one bottle today.
Yamamoto crept cautiously towards the sofa where a figure lay, eyes closed, headphones blaring with angry music. He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the sight. It looked as though he had finally calmed down enough to sleep.
Keeping a watchful eye of the sleeping figure, Takeshi began his work tidying the room. Gokudera had refused to allow housekeeping to enter the room, so the task fell to him. He plucked the burning cigarette from the ash tray and stamped it down into the ashes, careful to put it out but leave it in tact in case his lover wanted to finish it when he awoke. He also picked up the plate of untouched dinner from the coffee table as well as the untouched breakfast. He sighed with exasperation. This was the second day in a row Gokudera hadn't eaten.
" … I wouldn't be angry if you just fucking cried.
Your tears would arouse me, refreshing my supply
The suffering is fading, I scream into the sky
Repulsion invades me, I say goodbye…"
Gokudera hadn't moved an inch since Takeshi had entered the room. Still as a statue, his breath was steady in through his nose and then out again.
Yamamoto scratched at the scar on his chin as he sat down onto the bed across the loft-style room. At least he was sleeping, he told himself. Sleep would help him a little. The raven haired Mafioso bent over to pull his shoes and socks from his feet. He loosened the shoddily tied tie around his neck, stopping to admire his real lack of fines in the art of tying a tie. Gokudera had always tied it for him, before…
Yamamoto found himself thinking again of his conversation with Bianchi in the hospital that day.
"…also suffered from it, but I thought he had been managing it well" was all Yamamoto had heard of her sentence. His mind was elsewhere as he sat, elbows resting on his legs and hands clasping near his chin as if in prayer, staring at the unconscious Hayato where he lay in that hospital bed. He had to ask Bianchi to repeat herself as he snapped back to reality.
"Our father," she began again. "He also suffered from chronic depression and anxiety, and I knew that Hayato had inherited something of it, but he has managed it well ever since we were kids." She shook her head, turning to look out the window. She was on the opposite side of the bed leaning against the window frame with her arms crossed.
"I didn't even…" Yamamoto started, but he paused considering the gravity of his words. "I didn't even know he was suffering from this." His heart felt like it was being squeezed by an unseen hand in that instant, the same way it had felt when he had found his lover on the floor of their shared room in the Vongola Mansion.
After the whole incident, Tsuna had insisted that the two of them take some time away to themselves and they should leave everything to the other Guardians. Gokudera was weak, physically and mentally. He hadn't even protested the vacation. Yamamoto decided that Japan would be the perfect place to get away for a while, but Gokudera had rejected the idea of going back to Namimori, thus landing them in a hotel room in Tokyo that Gokudera never wanted to leave.
"…Digging deep inside of me
Getting past this agony
I can't seem to get away
Another day rotting in vain…"
Every morning Yamamoto would ask Hayato if he wanted to accompany him somewhere, but the answers were always similar. He didn't feel up to it. He didn't want to walk around. He wanted Yamamoto to quit fucking asking. Sometimes he would follow that one up by throwing something before letting out an exhausted sigh and sinking back down into the sofa or the armchair. Takeshi couldn't really get mad at him or blame him for his exhaustion because the man wouldn't sleep for days at a time.
It was for that reason that, as Yamamoto sat on the bed looking at his sleeping lover, he couldn't help but feel relieved at the sight. He began undoing the buttons of his shirt, one by one. He had worn the blue one today with a black tie. Gokudera had always told him before how he liked the blue shirt on him the best, it really brought out the copper fire in his eyes.
He stood and gingerly laid his shirt and tie onto a pile of clothes on the floor and then scooped up the whole pile. He wandered quietly around the room picking up stray socks here and there, and he couldn't help flash back to that day.
"…and there's the faceless cries that twist my every dream
And almost every night I hear the demon sing…"
When Yamamoto had come back to their shared room in the Vongola Mansion that day he had frozen in the doorway. He regretted doing that in hindsight. He should have rushed immediately to Gokudera's side, but in reality, he had stopped. Time had stopped.
The first thing he saw was blood. Blood on their bed, on their sheets and pillows which were thrown in disarray around their bed. Blood on the nightstand and all over the thin blade that lie there next to their alarm clock. There was a hand print that left a ghost of an impression gripping the side of the nightstand. He remembered how he had noticed it then, that Gokudera had put the knife down after he had used it. He could have gone for help after putting that knife down, could have called someone. Instead, his lover had taken a few steps away from the door and toward the window before collapsing, the blood seeping from his wrists staining the ornate carpet.
Takeshi's current task reminded him of picking up the pillows and sheets two days later, when Gokudera had finally regained consciousness and Yamamoto felt even a little comfortable leaving him, even if it was only to run home to get Gokudera something to change into and return immediately to the hospital. His hands shook now as they had then and as soon as he had gathered a large enough pile he placed it into the basket in the corner and sat back down on the bed. Yamamoto sighed long and low and rested his elbows on his knees, hanging his head.
"…The hating, it's puled inside of me.
They're trying to test my sanity
It's in the waiting, it's all make believe
And they're ripping the child from within me…"
When the drums and the electric guitars came in heavily, Gokudera opened his eyes. He hadn't been asleep at all, and his mind wouldn't let him rest anyways. The new CD he had gotten had distracted him from his thoughts at first, but now it was monotonous on the hundredth play-through and predictable to the last syllable.
His glazed green eyes looked first towards the coffee table in search of his cigarette. Someone had put it out, but it was still sitting there. His eyes slowly changed focus, looking beyond the ashtray and focusing on the figure slouched on the edge of the bed across the room. Yamamoto looked… what did he look? Sad? Angry? He's probably angry at me, Gokudera thought, looking away. I should just take my fucking medicine and stop torturing him like this. He wondered briefly where he had even put his medication, but a voice cut through his search.
Don't take your medicine, it makes you feel terrible, the voice murmured. It was his own voice inside his head, he recognized.
I feel terrible anyways.
But you feel worse on that stuff, you know you do. You don't even feel like you. You don't even feel alive.
Fuck, he was right. Why had he even thought about taking it in the first place? Oh well, he had thrown away his medication last week when he faced similar inner turmoil, he remembered. Still, he looked at the figure on the bed with discontent.
"…I dream of the past so I can break through
The walls I have built inside
The thoughts I can't grasp
Transparency through
They constantly fight and collide…"
Gokudera stirred from his place on the sofa, lifting himself first onto his elbows and then slowly rising to a seated position. His head ached as he stood and he rubbed his temple, careful not to disturb his wireless headphones. Taking off his headphones after having them on for so long would be an assault on his senses, he decided, so he left them on and raging loudly. He didn't need any sounds of the outside world, anyways.
Yamamoto looked up, tearing his gaze away from the floor to watch his groggy lover stand and stretch. Although his nap had ended, he was thankful at least for the standing. He couldn't help but send a soft smile towards the silver haired figure. The smile wasn't returned.
Gokudera shuffled towards Yamamoto, slowly making his way to the other side of the room. He stumbled on the coffee table and almost fell over, but he caught himself and shifted slightly to go around it, eventually standing in front of Yamamoto looking down at him. Yamamoto wasn't wearing a shirt.
"How are you feeling?" Yamamoto asked, but his words were lost and all Gokudera saw was the movement of his lips. He did not respond and Yamamoto frowned slightly.
"…I'd love to see a different world
A place where you can't find me…"
"Will you take those off and talk to me a little bit?" asked the rain guardian patiently, reaching upwards to take the headphones off his lover. Although his movement had been slight and gentle, he received a hard slap on the hand as he was swatted away. Yamamoto recoiled in shock, rubbing his hand. Gokudera's expression didn't change, his glassy green eyes fixed on copper ones. He was trying his best to read Takeshi without knowing what he had said, and he saw in the copper eyes then an interesting mixture of surprised, frightened, and dejected. He knew he had to apologize. There was probably a lot he had to apologize for.
Yamamoto rubbed his hand and his brow furrowed with cautious concern. It was hard to tell what Gokudera was thinking between the dimly lit room, smoke haze, and utter lack of expression on Gokudera's face.
Gokudera stood for another moment listening to the song, and, knowing what part of this song was coming next, he decided to close the distance between them, planting his lips against his lover's with a fury that seemed almost hostile.
"Feel me, kill me
My back's up against a wall.
Your magic spell
Doesn't work anymore.
Kill me, kill me, that's what
You've got to face, my friend
This ain't the end…"
Yamamoto almost recoiled from the kiss as Gokudera had lurched towards him so quickly and clumsily that their teeth had clacked together. It took him but a moment to realize what was going on and that he hadn't really been head-butted, but when he felt Gokudera's mouth against his own he relaxed into the kiss and raised his arms to intertwine his fingers with his lover's silver hair.
Gokudera stepped forward and let his knees hit the bed's edge as he straddled Yamamoto. One hand clung tightly to the side of Yamamoto's face while the other one was on the back of his head, pulling Takeshi's head up and towards his own with unnecessary force. Yamamoto's hands were trying to grip his hair as well, but the headphones were in the way. When he tried to remove them again, Gokudera pulled away sharply, inches from Yamamoto's face.
He said loudly, not realizing the volume of his voice: "Leave them."
Yamamoto's eyes widened at the sudden piercing sound of Gokudera's voice. He felt a pang of hurt in his heart at the tone of his lover's voice and the indifference in his eyes, but it subsided. The rain guardian knew from recent learning experiences with Gokudera in this state that he had to be patient and try not to take anything personally.
Just as suddenly as Gokudera had pulled away from him, he resumed their contact with the same ferocity. Gokudera's tongue demanded entrance, parting Yamamoto's lips before the other had a chance to catch up, and Gokudera's tongue was met only with rigid teeth that franticly parted to allow access. Saliva dribbled down Hayato's chin but he did not relent in delving into his lover's mouth, this time with his hands on either side of Yamamoto's face. Yamamoto's own hands had given up trying to play in Gokudera's hair and instead gripped his hips. Gokudera rocked forward and ground himself against Yamamoto's lap causing the other's nails to dig into his hips.
Yes. I felt that.
"…It gets on top of you and forces your perspective
Then you know it, you feel it, it's as dark as you can get,
You want it…"
Their faces parted in an instant, Gokudera staring into Yamamoto's eyes madly. "I want you to take me." He said with urgency, again at a volume too high for the situation.
"What? Hayato I don't—" but Gokudera could hear him, and he didn't care.
"I want you to take me," he repeated, his tone bordering on hostile. "I need you to fuck me right now."
"…Harder! Harder! Harder!
Give it to you
Harder, harder, harder,
You just want it…"
Yamamoto looked deep into the green eyes of the man straddling his lap. His body looked frail and his clothes, his sweatshirt and jeans, hung off him like loose skin. There were dark circles under his eyes betraying his complete lack of sleep. "You are exhausted, I don't think we should make love." This wasn't really Gokudera.
The concerned furrow in Yamamoto's brow as his lips moved was enough to make Gokudera grit his teeth. "Damnit, Takeshi! You piece of shit!" he yelled, balled fist slamming into Yamamoto's jaw for no discernable reason at all.
The rain guardian gasped, falling back onto the bed. The force of the smaller man's demand had hurt. Physically, it hurt. His face throbbed and he tasted metal. Yamamoto gritted his teeth and snarled up at Gokudera, his patience and understanding gone in that instant, if only for a moment, but a moment was all he needed.
He shoved Gokudera off of his lap, landing the silver-haired man on his backside on the floor.
Yes.
Takeshi followed him down, crawling up to meet Gokudera's mouth and assault it thoroughly with his tongue, biting his lip harder than ever expected. He tasted metal.
Yes.
Hayato was quick to wrap his bony arms around his lover's neck and shoulders, clawing at his back for a better grip and undoubtedly leaving red glowing rakes in his trail. He felt Yamamoto roll him backwards so his back was flush with the floor and their bodies were flush with each other. He ground down into the smaller man's hips, sliding Gokudera slightly along the rough carpet and sending tremors of pleasure up both of their spines with the friction.
Yamamoto pulled back only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over Gokudera's head and discard it, throwing it across the room with such fervor that he almost ripped Gokudera's headphones off with it.
"...I was down and you took me up
Past the ceiling.
You are the disease.
I am the remedy that numbs all your feelings…"
Setting to work at Gokudera's jeans, Yamamoto buried his face in the crook of his lover's neck and bit down on the taught, sensitive skin that pulled a low groan from the other man. It was evident to Gokudera that Yamamoto wasn't doing this for Gokudera's pleasure as the larger man continued to pressure Gokudera's neck muscles. With a twitch, Gokudera felt the skin on his trap break under the force and he cried out, but Yamamoto didn't show any signs of slowing. Not that the other wanted him to.
I felt that.
Gokudera's pants and boxers were yanked downwards with one quick motion, exposing his ass as well as his very prominent erection. He thought Yamamoto was going to take hold of him, stroke him as he would normally under these circumstances, but he didn't. Instead, Yamamoto quickly undid his own belt and pulled his pants down just enough to expose his stiffness before grabbing Gokudera's still clothed legs and hoisting them up above his shoulders. Gokudera's eyes widened.
"Is this what you want? Huh?!" Yamamoto whispered in a fevered tone just next to his ear. It did not matter, Gokudera still couldn't hear anything.
"…take me!
Please, take me.
It's the only way.
Please take me…"
The lyrics broke into the crashing of drums and the relentless strumming of guitars as Yamamoto shoved himself into his lover, grinding Hayato's exposed back into the unforgiving carpet.
"Takeshi!" Gokudera shouted, gasping. His hand shot out to take hold of something, anything he could find. He yelled again in pain as his hand had landed on the broken glass from one of the bottles earlier, but Takeshi did not notice and he didn't relent.
Tears brimming in Gokudera's eyes, he gasped and yelped with every fevered thrust from his lover as pain shot through him rhythmically. He wrapped his arms once again around Takeshi, unable to do much else. The blood from his fresh wounds streaked Yamamoto's back and mixed with the sweat beading on his lover's olive skin. The pain was unbearable and Gokudera could not hold in the tears as they poured from his emerald eyes. Every gasp turned into a pained sob.
I feel this.
Yamamoto peeled himself away from Gokudera just then and pulled out, however it was only in order to flip the smaller man over and bring him to his knees and thrust back in again. The flip knocked Gokudera's headphones off of his head and the real sounds of the world surrounded him again: the scratchy static from his discarded headphones, his own ragged breathing mixed with high pitched sobs, and Takeshi. He could hear Takeshi's furious grunting as he thrust into him.
It didn't take much more to push Takeshi over the edge and he spilled his hot seed into Gokudera. It stung and burned like lava and as soon as Yamamoto was finished Gokudera squirmed and crawled forward, back towards the couch and away from Takeshi.
Yamamoto fell forward slightly without Gokudera's hips to lean against and he ended up sitting back on his heels, hands gripping the tops of his own knees. It took him a moment of heavy breathing in this position to stop seeing stars. Finally, he looked up, and thought he was going to be sick to his stomach.
What he saw in front of him in their dark room was Gokudera, pants on only up to his knees, curled into a loose ball on the floor.
Blood…
His breath hitched in his throat when he saw it. There was blood on Gokudera's lips. There was blood on his neck and his shoulder. There was blood on his hand and on his opposite arm from where he clutched it, and he was crying.
"H-Hayato…" Yamamoto gasped, his breath quick and panicked. His heart was beating out of his chest. How had he not noticed all the blood? How had he not seen Gokudera's tears? Why hadn't he stopped? A million questions ran through his mind at that instant, and a million apologies. He quickly zippered his own pants and crawled towards Gokudera. He was half expecting the smaller boy to shy away at his touch, or to jump and run, but he didn't.
Gokudera shivered as Takeshi placed a hand on his back, but he didn't move or fight it. He was crying too hard and he was too tired. Once the initial pain had subsided, he wasn't really sure why he was crying. He wasn't mad or sad. He wasn't anything, he was just sobbing uncontrollably.
The air was still and quiet in their room again as Yamamoto wedged his hands carefully underneath Gokudera's body and lifted him, cradling him as he carried the smaller man to the bathroom. Gokudera sat on the counter, dazed. He rubbed his eyes with his uninjured hand and sniffled, staring at the ground while he vaguely saw Yamamoto turn on the bath and start filling the tub. Feeling was subsiding.
Yamamoto's hand's trembled as he wet a rag in the warm water and went back to Gokudera who was sitting on the counter hanging his head. Cautiously, he began to pat the blood from his bite on his neck. Luckily, it wasn't deep at all and most of the blood had already dried. Then Yamamoto set to work picking the glass from Gokudera's hand. It was tedious, but he tried to be as gentle as possible. He blotted the blood with the rag then wiped the blood from the rest of his arm.
When he was satisfied with the lack of glass shards in his lover's delicate body, he lifted Gokudera once again and set him gently into the warm bath. He was so light…
Once the silver haired man was sitting in the bath, staring blankly forward through swollen eyes, Takeshi lost it. He fell to his knees beside the tub, leaning against it and letting his arm fall into the water.
"I… I am so…" Takeshi started, gritting his teeth through tears. "I am so sorry Hayato…" He knew sorry would not be enough to make up for the sins he committed in his own mind, but he couldn't control himself. Gokudera had trusted him to take care of him, to never hurt him, and what had he just done? A choked sob escaped his lips and he clenched his eyes shut to stop the flow of his shame-filled tears.
Gokudera just put a hand on Takeshi's shoulder. The raven haired man looked up through red eyes, a look of such deep regret on his face that it was almost painful.
"I just wanted to feel it," Gokudera started in a quiet voice.
"Wh…What?" Takeshi sniffled.
Gokudera sighed. "I wanted to feel something other than… hopeless. I wanted to feel the pain, because it seems like it's all that I can feel…" He looked deep into Takeshi's wet copper eyes, leaned forward and kissed him. "I'm sorry I pushed you to do that."
"No! You don't apologize, I am the one who hurt you! I should have… I should have stopped…" His voice broke.
"Then I forgive you." Takeshi felt Gokudera's hand again, on his cheek this time. "Get in. You…" he paused to try and be more delicate. "You have blood on you."
When they finished cleaning each other up, Yamamoto helped Gokudera to the bed. The storm insisted that he could stand, but between his frail frame, the exhaustion, and the throbbing ache between his legs, he did need support to walk him over. They laid down together, their naked bodies tangled beneath the blanket. Gokudera rested his head on Yamamoto's chest.
"Can I ask you something?" Gokudera said, looking out into the darkness of their room, his eyes glazing over. Back to normal.
"Of course." Yamamoto stroked his hair.
"How long are you going to deal with me like this before you just leave me?"
The question surprised Yamamoto and his head snapped back slightly. "I will never leave you, why do you think that I would?"
"It's just that…" Gokudera paused, thinking of earlier when he had seen Yamamoto sitting on the bed, and also his loss of control. "You are angry, angry that I am like this."
Yamamoto was about to chuckle and deny being angry, but when he stopped to think about it, it was true. He was angry. He was angry that Gokudera wouldn't take his medication, and he was angry at himself for being angry with someone who is helpless and suffering. He was angry that god or whoever had made Gokudera had cursed him with this burden to bear. There was a lot of anger welling within him that ranged from rage to frustration, but all he said was "Yeah."
This is the raging, unrelenting storm.
Gokudera sighed and held him a little tighter. He wanted to sleep but his eyes wouldn't close. They never really did anymore, but being next to Yamamoto, even after the events of tonight, brought him the closest thing to rest that he could imagine at this point.
"I love you, Takeshi."
I'm sorry.
"I love you too."
I'm sorry.
