Haaaaa...well, this was something I started on a whim a bit ago...instead of working on my multichapter fic...;
Lots of angst and such for all~
He didn't know how it had come to this.
Only two years ago he had been an upstanding college bound senior in high school, top student in English and History. He had gotten the highest test scores his school had ever seen in these two subjects, and he had been among the top fifty for the others.
He had been awarded scholarship upon scholarship, had been accepted to and been given an almost completely free ride for the college of his dreams.
He would have joined the elites of the world, would have become known throughout the teaching society as one of the best literature professors to have ever come, every school he had graduated from would put up plaques commemorating his existence, all of the hard work he did, all the persistence he gave, all of his vigor…
But, not now, now he would be lucky if any one person said his name with awe. No, he couldn't give himself that hope. No one would ever say his name fondly now. Hell, most people barely remembered his first name.
A sharp yank on the young man's head forced him back from his journey down memory lane. He felt eyes glaring down at him, but even more so, he felt the object in his mouth, the hot, pulsating length close to making him gag.
His eyes closed obediently as he let his tongue wander across the cursed appendage. Almost all of this was done without a thought nowadays. He was relieved by that fact, but also terrified of it. It meant his body could do it's sole purpose in life now without him. Without the brilliant mind that had worked so hard to become somebody.
Almost an instant later his mouth was filled with the salty seeds of the man standing above him, writhing was a better description in his opinion. He had moaned out the name of some unknown male, his breath haggard and loud.
The boy rolled his eyes before downing the substance in one gulp. Using his tongue to search for any possible spills, he stood quickly and held out his hand expectantly.
The man, who the adolescent realized was at least in his mid-forties and was balding, just stared at the opened palm before him with a look of utter idiocy. If the young man was who he had been two years ago he would have called the man an assortment of derogatory terms, but now simply smiled and spoke calmly.
"I'm afraid I will have to be taking my pay now, sir." These words used to make him blush and feel ashamed, but by now it had become normal. It was like asking students to hand in their homework. Of course, that meant some students forgot their assignments, or some did everything they could to prolong turning them in, but the teen was past falling for these excuses. Two years was quite a bit of time under one's belt, more than enough experience, especially, for dealing with old perverts like this.
"I already paid you." The man, no, the creature…wait, the beloved customer that is, replied, adjusting his tie.
"Sir, I'm afraid that is just not true. First time patrons are always asked to pay after their endeavor, just in case they do not find it satisfying." The words came from his mouth like a recording, inhuman and metallic, but given humanoid annotations in an attempt to fool those listening.
Of course the man changed his tactic after hearing that. "What makes you think I enjoyed it?" His face was reddening and making it even more grotesque for the boy to look at.
Holding back a few choice words and doing his best to keep the plastic smile on, the young man spoke simply. "You came." Of course, he could have added how the whole block had probably heard him and that his rocking had nearly choked the boy on more than one occasion, but that was likely to stop the pervert from coming to him for help again. And no matter how degrading or painful this was to him, it was the only thing he had.
After almost two full minutes of bickering the teen was handed a small wad of cash, which he pocketed immediately. A small white card was pulled from the butt pocket of his pants and offered to the man as he was about to step back into the main street.
"What's this?" The card was being inspected with an odd look, but this was a common response to the presentation.
"My card. Patrons who seem like they need a bit…more are given it. Just call that number in the specified time frame and my manager can explain my services and prices." Without waiting for any type of response the young man emerged from the barely lit side street onto the main walkway of the city.
A large electronic clock flashed the time from the side of a bar, telling him that he had a bit of time before he needed to return to his apartment, home that is. His pockets were close to bulging, a good night all in all. There hadn't been any real issues; two regulars and about three strangers, all given the small white business card.
His mind wandered as he stood near a large fountain, watching children laugh innocently and lovers cuddle close. It was simple to get caught up in the scenery here, to pretend he was just a college student exploring the town and not a prostitute making his nightly rounds.
Of course, he never called himself that. Prostitutes slept with people for money. He just gave handjobs and blowjobs, occasionally doing slightly more kinky things involving dress-up or role-play. No, just because he gave sexual favors for money that didn't mean he was a prostitute…if he started to call himself that then his last shred of pride would be stripped away and he really would become one.
The boy was so involved in his own thoughts that he never heard the boisterous teens who were walking towards him, never even picked up on the voice that at one point sent shivers of joy down his spine.
"I'm telling you guys! That goal was a fluke! He'll never get another one past me, I promise that on my pride as a hero!" A young man in an old aviator jacket declared, pounding into his chest while staring proudly at his audience.
A sigh escaped from a flaxen haired boy, he and the 'hero' looked almost identical, except his hair was longer and his eyes were just between violet and blue, while the other had sky blue eyes. "If you say so, Al. But I don't think I'd say that to his face, eh? Ivan can be intimidating when he's upset…" A shudder escaped him as he clung onto a small stuffed animal in his arms.
"Yeah right! I could take on that Commie bastard anyday!"
As the quieter male was about to explain for about the five hundredth time that just because the student was from Russia, that did not make him Communist a hand grabbed his buttock, making him yelp. "G-Gil! Stop that!"
An albino teen stepped from behind him and smirked before obeying the command. "Aww, c'mon Mattie! You know you can't resist the awesome me! Besides, you agreed to come back to my room after the idiot's game was over!"
"Who are you calling an idiot?" Shot back the jock, glaring towards the red-eyed man. "If I remember correctly, my grades are much better than yours Beilshmitt."
A cackle emerged from the man's throat and he grabbed the teen called Mattie before speeding off towards the college dormitories. For a moment he swore he saw a familiar tousle of blonde hair, but it was impossible. He had disappeared two years before.
"I can't believe the pervert made off with Mattie! I'll get him back later, I swear!" Alone now, the blonde teen walked absentmindedly before his heart stopped.
Before him stood a delicate young man with unruly sandy blonde hair. Without a second thought he reached forward and pulled the boy around.
He felt dizzy for an instant, confused by the sudden movement, but when his eyes fell on the man before him he took a step back immediately.
"Arthur! It's really you, isn't it? Oh my god! Artie!" The taller male pulled the shorter into a tight embrace, as if he expected him to disappear again.
The bear hug made him shiver, tempting him to wrap his own arms around the other boy and cry into his shoulder, but he knew that it couldn't happen. He was soiled now, a dirty plaything that when new shone brighter than almost everything…everything except the one hugging him at that moment.
"L-Let me go!" The statement came out as a terrified cry more than the command it was supposed to be, but nonetheless the results were the same.
"A-Artie? What's wrong, don't you remember me?" Hurt shone from those brilliant azure pools and it took all of the smaller's energy to not comfort him.
Shaking his head he replied mournfully, trying his best to sound simply startled. "I'm afraid I do not. I've been told by a few different people that I look like someone they knew. I just seem to have a common face."
Before those damn eyes could pull that puppy dog look they were known for, the small male turned and started to walk away, eyes locked straight ahead, emeralds blazing in anguish.
Truthfully, he had hoped that he had followed, that the other could force out all of his dark secrets like he had years before. But there was no indication that he was coming, and before he realized, the boy was in front of his dreadfully small, nononono, cute apartment complex.
Fishing his keys from a pocket, the door clicked open before he remembered what day it was.
Friday.
To anyone else, this day would mean happiness, a break from school, a break from work, time to see friends, but for him it meant seeing that person. The person who dragged him into this filth, who if he were a prostitute, you would call his pimp.
He knew he couldn't escape…that person, although they looked sweet and kind had quite a temper. He had learned that early on, there were scars to prove it, not to mention all of the mental damage he received.
So he opened the door and sure enough there was already a pair of shoes in his hallway. Taking a quick breath, he walked in, shutting and locking the door behind him. A shadow could be seen in the single bedroom, sitting patiently on the bed.
"My, my. You're here earlier than usual, Kiku."
On the bed sat a small asian male who simply smiled before standing to pull the other into a tight embrace. "I've missed you. All those baka at the school, they make me sick. So I feigned being sick so I could come see you."
The other male's eyes seemed to lose a bit of their glow when hugged, but answered with a grin. "Of course I am! How could I not be happy seeing my lover?" It was a lie. It was such a lie. Kiku just wanted to take out some of his frustration by pounding him into the mattress. This happened every week, Kiku came and made some excuse and would then proceed to fuck him until he was satisfied.
"Arthur." Ears perking to having his name called, the blonde pulled out of the embrace to see the asian staring at him with eyes full of lust. "I want you. I need you. Right now."
There was little he could do besides obey and begin to strip himself. Once naked, he was roughly shoved onto the double bed, feeling rough nips on his back.
It was true, he wasn't a prostitute. Kiku was the only one allowed to have sex with him. With Arthur Kirkland. The boy who disappeared after graduating from Hetalia High with honors. Kiku Honda, Kiku was his abductor. But, to tell the truth, it wasn't so much abduction as a shove into a world of darkness.
Fingers thrusting inside him made the sandy blonde gasp, breaking him from his thoughts. Dark words were whispered into his ear. In the past, these words had been about him and what he was doing. Now the darker words were all the ones reminding him of his life before.
Ignoring the added fingers, truthfully all of this was completely unnecessary now, he had been stretched by the weekly endeavors; he fell back into his memories.
Kiku had been the first to congratulate him on his success. The two had been going neck and neck for the top spot and Arthur just barely beat him. It was gaining this top spot that got him his scholarships…and that warped his future.
The quiet male had suggested they go clubbing, to which he had agreed hesitantly. Sometime during it all Kiku had slipped drugs into his drink, causing an addiction.
The next few months were a blur, but by the time he realized his addiction school had already began. He forced himself through a self-created rehabilitation which had him locked in the apartment he and Kiku shared, when had they signed on that anyway? When he was finally free of his problem, he had been reported missing. And that was when it really began to go south.
Kiku had taken his spot at the college. Not only that, he also kept the teen from going anywhere. Before long, Kiku began to abuse him. He was a prisoner once the other had realized he was no longer addled by drugs. He raped Arthur…multiple times. It had taken all of his strength to not kill himself, the only thing that kept him going was that sunny blonde idiot; Alfred F. Jones.
Arthur loved the kid from the moment he first punched him in middle school. He was so vibrant, so outgoing. No matter what, he was always helping others and involved. The two began dating when Arthur was a junior, Alfred a sophomore. It created quite a stir, but no one could say they didn't belong together.
So he couldn't allow something as little as a few rapes to pull him to suicide. Because as Alfred always said, there was light at the end of the tunnel.
Eventually Kiku had needed money. He had contemplated turning the other boy into a whore, but he was too possessive to allow that. So he began a service. He would dress the sandy blonde in seductive costumes and take pictures, selling them online. However, there wasn't enough traffic…so after learning how adept the Englishman was with his mouth, he shoved him into his current profession.
As something larger replaced the fingers, Arthur bit his lip, holding back a muffled moan. This was the worst thing Kiku had done to him…making him enjoy the sex. At first he had gotten turned on by his customers and Kiku would help him with his "issue". Now licking a pervert's cock did nothing for him. It was the damn movements of Kiku.
Soon the two were moving in a mechanical rhythm, Arthur panting and Kiku smirking. It ended quickly, with the black haired male simply moaning and Arthur mumbling nonsense words before collapsing in exhaustion, a blue eyed, blonde haired idiot's face the last thing he thought of before everything went black.
Well~ Like it so far? Hate it? Confused by it?
Poor Artie, he has a definite bit of Stolkholm's Syndrome going on. As for why Kiku is the bad guy...I really don't like AsaKiku, but that isn't the real reason. It needed to be someone who was an unlikely captor.
I'm working on the second chapter right now~
And oh! This entire thing was inspired by my muse while listening to Rufus Wainwright's rendition of Hallelujah. Even though the fic and song have nothing in common. ._.;
Comment and review please~