RyouKura Oneshot, Ryou's POV.
Beautiful
I let out a small gasp as the raw wounds made contact with the sweat soaked sheets, the salt searing my flesh. Pain shot through my senses, burnt, then left. My breathing was laboured; not erratic, but heavy with a sense of forced control.
Kura, straddling my waist, frowned down on me. I opened my eyes and met his; deep rich brown, like dark chocolate, bittersweet and irresistible. I closed my eyes again, felt his lips descend upon mine with a ferocity I've come to know, come to love. Slippery muscle slipping between my lips demandingly, massaging my tongue, thrusting its way down my throat.
I groaned.
A hand, glowing and pale in the darkness, snaked around my waist, slender fingers sliding over the lashes in my back tenderly, enticingly. I whimpered into the ongoing kiss, as I knew he wanted me to, and squirmed beneath him, my own pale fingers digging into the bloody sheets.
The gently teasing finger paused over a wound, as if selecting it delicately, and pressed slowly into the bloody gash. I gasped, and arched my back.
Deeper and deeper, into my flesh, into my soul, then run down the cut like a knife opening it anew.
My breathing deepened; I started hyperventilating, but I couldn't help it. The pain seared through me like flash floods of fire, washing through my system and taking over my senses.
I broke the kiss and cried out, grasping at the sheets, knuckles white. The pain only dug deeper, deeper and deeper and deeper...
And then it was gone. Like a scent of fresh water on the spring breeze, leaving only a sense of emptiness and longing.
Kura felt it, crept up and pulled my head to his chest as he lay on his side beside me.
I pushed myself against him gratefully, one arm reaching over to drape itself over his waist.
My breathing slowed, and I felt his calm washing over me.
We were done for the night.
Blood.
Blood and blood and blood.
Always there is blood on the sheets when Kura and I lie together at night.
It wouldn't be the same if there was no blood; it wouldn't be with Kura if there was no blood.
I suppose I'm almost used to it now.
Almost.
The sight, the smell, the taste, does not please me as it does my yami, but it no longer repulses me as it used to. I don't faint at the sight of it, don't cry out when Kura casually cuts himself to see it flow out of him, don't whimper at the sight of it leaking from raw steaks like so much liquid flesh.
That's what comes with time, I suppose: the understanding of your other half growing ever deeper until you feel you can become one, truly one, with their feelings...
"Ne, Kura?"
We were together on the bed, the sheets soaked with sweat, blood and pleasure. Kura was reclining leisurely into the mattress, bloody arms pillowing his head as I sat in the corner of the bed, against the wall, my legs pulled up to my chest, chin resting on my bare knees.
"Why..." I found myself staring stupidly at the pool of my own blood slowly seeping into the tainted fabric. "Why... do you like blood so much?"
Kura shrugged, not bothering to open his eyes to even look at me.
"Why not? It's beautiful, is it not?"
No... "How so?"
The other man sighed, as if speaking to a dull witted child.
"'How so? How so?' How not so?" He rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows, and pointed to the deep red patch in the mattress.
"See this colour? Such a deep, rich colour. Colour of danger, love, anger, lust, happiness, luck, fortune... Red is the colour of emotion, of passion and love and life." He traced a shape into the sticky substance. His finger came up dark crimson.
"And blood is life. It holds within it the soul and spirit of the person, the very life essence. Blood is life, blood is passion, blood is beauty and spirit and soul. Blood is what binds us all together, is what binds the soul to the mind to the body. Blood is what runs through your heart, blood is what fuels your body, what lifts you every time you fall. Blood is the elixir of life. It is the nectar of life, the nectar of the gods...!"
Kura was grinning at me madly, that maniacal gleam staining his eyes that I'd become so familiar with.
But this time it was different. This was the first real explanation on anything that I ever got out of him, the first time he had really answered a question with emotion like this.
With passion like this.
But it was fading now, and I could see he was beginning to regret his little sermon.
He sighed, and collapsed beside me, leaning against the wall with one knee pulled up, one hand raised carelessly to his eyes.
"Blood," he murmured, eyes closed almost serenely, "is life. Blood is passion and the bond that links all parts together." He opened his eyes, and there, I think, is where I saw my first glimpse into his heart.
"Blood is what I have craved for so long," he whispered. "I had no body, no blood, no life. Just a broken soul tied to a golden ring, bound to a host body I couldn't even call my own. Blood has always been beautiful to me, just as life is beautiful, and the setting of the sun, the crispness of a clear morning, the single white rose blooming in the desert. The loss of it... was horrifying to me. The lack of it... disgusted me. Empty, ethereal, a shadow in your mind, nothing more, I felt... angry. Angry that I was bound to this fate, that all others should have this life, this vitality within them, and I did not. I, who loved it more than any being!"
He paused, panting slightly.
Yet his expression did not change. His face was a blank as an unused canvas.
"So, I took it from them, those who didn't appreciate the life flowing through them, did not stop to think of what life was like without it. Yes, life without blood, life without body, life without heart or love or--"
A fist slammed into the wall.
But it wasn't his.
He stared at me, and then at the crimson life leaking from my palm.
I looked up at him slowly, and I think he saw something there that unsettled him.
Scared him?
Maybe.
It was not my intention.
But...
I reached out, and took him into my arms. I clung to him, held him close, felt him tremble.
But he didn't resist.
I clung tighter.
"Kura," I murmured brokenly, "Kura, it's OK now. Please, I'm sorry I asked, just... don't... don't..."
Don't break. Don't leave me to fall. Hold me up. Be strong for me. Please. I can't... if you're falling alongside me... then who will catch me before I plunge into The Abyss...?
Blood is life; blood is passion; blood is love.
I can't remember what happened after that. All I know is that I woke up the next morning, and Kura was still there, in my arms, and I in his.
There was a clear crisp dawn, and resting on the windowsill, a single white rose.
Again, I was thrown onto the tainted white sheets, my lover clambering on top of me eagerly, dark chocolate eyes gleaming with desire.
I felt I would drown in them.
A sharp pain in my neck. Teeth ripping into my flesh, canines running over my sensitive skin and making me shiver with excitement.
A strong slippery tongue sliding slowly over the wound in my neck, lapping up the blood, cold lips sucking it into an eager mouth; teeth running over my skin again.
White water leaked from my swollen manhood, left a trail of pleasure along Kura's abdomen as I thrust my hips up pleadingly, begging for release, for the pleasure to come and overwhelm me, for the pain to be driven out and the love to overcome me.
A hand fumbled its way to his erection; I grasped and pulled at it.
Hard.
Kura groaned loudly into a mouthful of flesh, and buried his face further into the crook of my neck, groaning right into my ear.
His fingers found their way to the gash in my forearm, applied pressure. Blood leaked out all over his pale slender fingers; they slipped in and out of the gash, up and down my arm.
I gasped and curled up instinctively; Kura growled, and humped my side irritably. I ignored it and continued to writhe against him.
Pain scorching up my back, recent wounds dug into, old scars sliced open again.
I groaned loudly. I felt so heavy, so tired...
Another thrust of the hips: Turn over. Let me ravish you.
More daggers. More fire.
I gasped and arched outwards, but Kura had already pinned me front down into the mattress.
Something thick and hard shoved its way into me: Idiot. You were too slow.
You're in for it now.
Saltwater sprung to my eyes. I grasped at the sheets desperately, crying out, pleading for mercy, begging him to cease his lustful pursuits for my body, perhaps knowing somewhere beyond the chaos of agony and desperation that this would only lead him on, and, somewhere even further beyond that notion, that I wanted him to drive me right to the edge.
Again and again the pain came, deeper and harder and faster as Kura got himself worked up, his dexterous fingers finding their way into every gash and cut he had made in the past two hours.
Tears were streaming down my face now, and I gave in. I screamed. I screamed my throat raw, screamed my lungs out. I screamed his name, over and over again, begging him for more, begging him to stop, begging him to break me, begging him to love me, harder, deeper, faster, oh, more...! Oh god, yes, Kura, more break me...! Break me and take me and push harder, goddammit! Can't you see I'm in pain?
Hot liquid fire shooting deep inside me and I cried out, mixed emotions forcing themselves out of my throat. My whole body was on fire, flash floods of it rushing through my system, out of it.
Breaths came hard and fast; my muscles turned to jelly.
Above me, I felt Kura start to stir, felt something move inside me, felt it leave my body.
Immediately the fire left me. The warmth leaked out of me, and suddenly I was cold and shivering, filled with an immense sense of loss.
Of emptiness.
I started to cry.
I started to shake and shudder and whimper. I think I started to rock a bit, the cold emptiness washing over me. I closed my eyes, and let the darkness overcome me.
But...
I opened my eyes.
Kura was there, a thick duvet in his arms. He glanced at me, and sent a small smile my way before floating it over my trembling form.
I sighed in relief, and almost started crying again.
Kura slipped in beside me, and pulled me to him, resting my head on his bare, sticky chest and stroking my hair lovingly. His legs wrapped around me securely, and I snuggled closer to him, to his warmth, and relaxed.
Everything was OK.
Cool lips pressed to my forehead tenderly and I almost moaned aloud. I felt the lips twist in a smirk before leaving my feverish skin like a ghost whispering into the night.
In my half-dazed state, I felt my thoughts wandering into realms unknown, felt them twist and dance into poetic verse and found myself contemplating the absolute beauty of the man I now lay in the arms of.
Yes, beauty, beauty unfathomable, inconceivable. Even as he drives knives into my flesh, even as he chains me and breaks me and forces me pains that come again and again without rest or relief, even as he tortures me mind, body and soul, he is beautiful.
In his darkness, he is beautiful. In his sin, he is beautiful. Through all his flaws, he creates beauty, and in his malevolence, his malice, he manages to hold this exquisite beauty to him.
He's gorgeous; he's perfect.
I love everything about him.
I love how he hurts me, the way he teases me.
Taunts me.
Tortures me.
I love how he loves to hurt me.
I love when he's the dictator, the master, the seme, but at the same time I love it when he's being tender and caring, like a lover. Like I'm something precious to him.
I know he's precious to me.
More than anything else.
Always has been.
Always.
Even if I didn't know it, or wouldn't admit to it for years, I knew, in the back of my mind, that I couldn't bear to be without him. That he was my other half, and that I...
I wonder if he knows I think he's this beautiful; I wonder if he knows just how much he means to me.
Maybe I should tell him one day.
Maybe one day.
He ought to know, really. I mean, you can't just go hiding things like that from people, especially when it comes to...
You know what else I love about him? How only I know him. Really know him. He's mine, all mine.
Only I know the trauma of his past.
Only I truly know what lies in his heart, the heart no one else even knows exists.
Only I know his quirks, his needs, his wants.
Only I can fulfill them.
He's mine, all mine. No one else knows him as I do, keeps him as I do.
Only me.
Only him.
Only mine.
...heh. And people think he's the possessive one.
Then again...
Blood.
Blood and blood and blood.
Blood on the walls, blood on the floor, blood on the sheets.
Blood on his hands.
Tears.
Tears and tears and tears.
Tears in my eyes, tears on my face, tears on his lips.
Tears in the blood.
"Why...?"
A rasping plea for enlightenment.
"Because it pleases me."
A sigh, long and empty, as if the very life was leaving through the exhalation.
Pale spiders dancing over the weeping wounds, making them cry all the more with crimson tears.
"Because it is beautiful."
Pain and darkness and emptiness and...
"Because..."
Fire.
"...it relieves me."
Blurry comprehension.
"Relief...?"
Silence.
Yet noise.
"It relieves me, to know there is blood in you."
Silent trickle of life.
"It relieves me, to know there is life in you."
Pounding of heart.
"It relieves me, to know we are the same, yet different..."
Steel on skin.
"...that life flows through us both..."
Gushing river.
"...and binds us to each other."
The blood drips onto my broken body, chained to the bedpost. It mixes with the crimson already there, dancing and intertwining and becoming one substance, one liquid.
One life.
One soul.
Tears and tears and tears.
"Don't cry, little one," he murmurs. "It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt..."
"Then why...?"
Silence. Contemplation.
Unease.
But not on his behalf.
"I don't do this out of grief, or pain, or despair. I am a broken soul no longer. I am whole again, and I love life."
Another gash.
"I have always loved life. These scars... are not symbols of loss or rage, but reassurances of my completeness."
Another river.
"It was not that long ago that I was no more than a shadow in people's minds, a myth encased in an ancient ring."
Glint in the darkness.
"Sometimes... sometimes, it scares me when I wake up and can't hear my heart beat, feel my blood pulse through my body. For me, that is a truly sensuous experience, to feel the life blood rush through me, to hear it thundering in my ears and know that I am whole again."
Rush of life.
"But sometimes, I fear it is all a dream, and I just have to... check. To see if it's still there. To see if I am in fact, alive. Truly, alive
Tears in the blood.
A sad smile in the darkness, and gently it wipes away the saltwater stinging my eyes.
"It told you, didn't I, not to cry?"
Tears and tears and tears.
Blood and love and life.
"Ryou-chan?"
Rich like chocolate, rough like ground coffee.
"...hm...?"
Deep dark chocolate.
Drowning.
"You okay?"
I smiled sleepily and nodded, rubbing my eyes absently. I was rewarded with a tentative smile and gentle fingers lightly brushing the hair from my eyes.
"You have bed hair," he murmured against my forehead. "It's cute..."
I felt my face heat up with pleasure, and happily pushed myself closer to him.
So beautiful... so precious... so...
"Kura..."
"Hm?"
"Mm, nothing..." I mumbled. Realising it wasn't working, I pushed my face further into his chest and kissed his smooth skin. In spite of myself, I couldn't help but smile happily at the sensation.
But I could still feel his frown bearing down on me, and I felt the niggling need to shuffle guiltily.
But I've done nothing wrong...!
He wasn't buying it.
An uncomfortable silence descended upon us.
Sunlight shimmered into the musky half light of the bedroom; it was morning already. When had that happened?
Outside, birds sang preludes amid the soft whisper of the sakura trees. Somewhere, there were happy people laughing. Somewhere, there were lovers kissing and smiling at each other.
Not here.
Oh--
"Ryou? Ryou-chan, tell me."
"I..."
I faltered, and hastily turned away. I could feel Kura's concern morphing into anger.
Fast.
I recoiled. I didn't like it when he was really angry at me; he usually ended up hurting me in ways I didn't like.
There's no escaping it, is there?
Maybe I should tell him one day.
...so...
Maybe one day.
...why not today?
"I..."
I think you're beautiful.
"I..."
I think you're the best thing to ever happen to me.
"I..."
I love how you're my whole life.
"I..."
I...
...I love you.
I'm crying. Why am I crying? I told him, didn't I? But...
...I love him? I... I do. I...
I...
It's been three days since I told him that, since I admitted it to both of us, opened the flood gates and let it all come out.
Ringing silence ensued, then the soft but solid click of the door.
Emptiness.
Loneliness.
And tears.
So many tears.
How can one person have so many tears to cry? Where do they all come from? So much saltwater inside me, yet such deep, dark emptiness eating at my insides...
Isolation.
And darkness.
I've not seen the outside world for over seventy-two hours, not breathed the fresh air since he left. Just this darkness, this old, musty air filled with memories and longing and regret.
And a small crack of light, ever shifting, creeping along the floor.
Sunlight.
Moonlight.
But never the light of redemption; my little corner of self-pity remains mine and mine alone.
With the darkness.
And the ache...
I begin to wonder if he's ever going to come back, if he's going to rescue me from this Abyss.
Maybe I deserve this.
This Abyss.
This Loneliness.
Desertion.
...huh.
Stupid phrase.
"I love you."
Causes more damage than anything else.
People are always saying to tell those you love how you feel.
Yeah, right.
Like that ever works.
I mean, we were just fine before that little announcement, we had each other and there was understanding, there didn't need to be any words and now the words have gone and killed the feeling, the connection.
And now... now... now there is...
Nothing.
"Ryou."
I start, and look up at my lover, my precious. His eyes, beautiful slanting eyes, are hidden by his shimmering silver bangs, overshadowed by the luscious locks.
Why do you hide them, precious? They're so lovely...
The sun is setting. Dying sunlight peeks in through the crack, a crimson blade through the darkness and the silence. Outside, I'm sure the world has become a place full of deep pastels and shifting light. Shifting shadows. Kura's time of day, always his time...
The birds are singing requiems.
Somewhere, there are happy people laughing.
Somewhere, there are lovers kissing and smiling at each other.
Not here.
Not here.
Here are two lovers in conflict.
Here are two lovers in confrontation.
But why? Dizzily this thought spins around my brain. Why are we being like this? What had I done wrong? Oh Kura, I wish I knew... tell me... please tell me...
Mixed emotions flooded my system. Why is he looking like that? Is he overwhelmed? Is he upset? Is he amused? Does he...
...does he really not care? Is he laughing at me, laughing at my naïveté?
Mixed emotions freeze and run cold through my blood as one dread.
Despair.
Despair, loss, rejection, disappointment, spiraling, falling, drowning...
"Ryou."
My head shoots up, eyes flicking immediately to meet his, to focus on his beautiful face.
Beautiful.
Always beautiful.
Even now, I know he is beautiful, my precious.
Or is he just precious now? Not mine anymore...
Deep dark chocolate.
Shining.
And...
His knees hit the carpet and he leans forward. Lithe arms wind their way around my body, settling on my waist, pulling me into his lap gently. Soft fabric on my cheek; soft whisper in my ear.
"Ryou-chan... I..."
Pulling me closer.
"Ryou-chan, I'm... sorry I left. I just..."
Hesitation.
"...didn't know what to think. What to feel. What to say. What to do. But..."
Unsure.
"But...?"
Resolution.
And...
...contentment?
"I know now. It's the simplest thing, the thing I knew all along, really. Ryou-chan, it's just that I...
"I love you too."
:: sonryz ::
Wow; it's a lot longer than I thought. Anyway, hope it wasn't too bad. Or weird. Or whatever. Rate if you want; flames are welcome too, seeing as I probably deserve them... I fear that Yami Bakura is quite out of character, what with the caring about Ryou so much and being all philosophical, but hey, he turned out that way and I ain't changing it now.
debated for a long time about posting this, because looking back on it there is quite a bit of... possibly disturbing stuff in there. But then I figured, what the hell. So sorry if you don't like this sort of stuff; you shouldn't have clicked the link.
And finally, here are a couple of rough translations if you need them:
seme - dominant person in a relationship
-chan - affectionate suffix, usually for girls or young boys (I think... Sorry if any of this is inaccurate or unclear.)