Pairing: Yucky (Ty/Kan)
Warnings: YAOI, N/C, bondage, Kanda-abuse (a little), language
Disclaimer: I do not own D. Gray – man.
Summary: The worlds prettiest Exorcist makes a deal with the Noah of pleasure.
I hope you like it. If not, flames are welcome for anything but the pairing. You chose to read it, so don't whine to me that you don't like it.
Also, reviews are loved! I might seem a bit defensive but it's a lie. 8D
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Kanda knew the taste of leather. On occasion he would go to wipe his mouth on his sleeve and accidentally get the fabric of his coat in his mouth, or the lingering flavor on his hands after he had touched his boots would alter the taste of his soba. He had never hated it, never disliked the smell, but now, with what felt like an inch and a half wide cylinder of leather wrapped wood smashed between his teeth, he wanted to gag a little, the saliva gatherings around the corners of his lips where it left his mouth not helping in the slightest. He couldn't bite through it and spitting it out proved equally pointless, he couldn't even get his tongue behind it to push properly. His wrists, the part of his body holding most of his weight, seemed to be in a similar predicament, lopped with something soft that refused to stretch when he tugged at his arms. His jacket was missing. His boots were too, otherwise he wouldn't have felt the cold stone under the tips of his toes and the equally soft fabric on his ankles, holding his legs perfectly tense, unable to bend even to shift his weight to a new part of his foot. Trying made him realize that there was a wedged shaped thing under him, not high enough to support his weight, but enough to just touch the fabric between his legs.
He didn't know how long he'd been there, or when it was that he'd got there, but he had to turn his face down to keep the drool off his chin at one point. His neck, arms, and legs ached. And that thing under him just sat there, taunting him.
Something clicked off behind him and he pulled his head up in an effort to see what it was. He couldn't. Either the light was too low or there was something over his eyes, either way he couldn't see anything in the room at all. He swallowed with difficulty and quelled the fear forming in his gut – there was nothing he was frightened of, not pain or death. Not the clicking sound that repeated itself. Not the sound of something catching fire.
He was breathing too rapidly out of his nose when a hand cupped his chin and pulled his face up, giving him something to jerk away from in defiance. Fingers tangled in his hair instead, painfully fisted, strong enough to send him swinging him on his wrists enough to make that wedge touch him again – he wince at it, fighting down the verbal grunt in the back of his throat. This person – whoever it was – didn't deserve one. There was smoke breathed across Kanda's face and the smell of it made him nauseous, though not as much so as the press of gloved fingertips to his throat, tracing the bump of his Adam's apple.
Kanda growled. The hand in his hair jerked again, silencing him.
Those fingers went down the center of his chest and paused in the middle of his breast bone, tapping lightly. Kanda remained impassible, unmoving, every fiber of his being screaming at him to fucking do something and yet perfectly aware that he could not. So he waited. Silently, with his legs trembling beneath him, he waited.
The fingers turned into a palm that slipped downward, downward, tensing him, making his mind reel, downward, fondling the button his pants, downward, sliding along the fabric of his pants. Kanda forced his head forward, biting the gag, straining himself on the bonds. The hand gave a slow, hard squeeze to that violated place and he thrashed, tearing at the things that held him. He was breathing too quickly, too harshly, the gag wasn't making it easer, and white hot panic began to seep into his mind when the hand stayed where it was, stroking along the seam of his breeches.
There were two more clicks and something moved underneath of him. The hand on the crotch of his pants slipped up his body again and he shivered, wanting it gone, wanting it dead, wanting to know who the fuck it was.
The blindfold was mercifully pulled from his eyes.
Tyki smiled at the Japanese boy whose hair he held fisted in his left hand and cocked his head to the side in a travesty of a friendly expression. He saw first surprise and then hate flare in that pair of nearly black-blue eyes, and felt his chest fill with satisfaction – breaking this one would be worth so much more than the Earl could ever punish him for it.
"Good morning, Kanda." The Noah said in a smiling, conversational tone. "I trust you haven't been up long?"
The Exorcist curled his hands into fists and continued to yank at the bonds that held him without allowing his gaze to waver, pale flesh made paler in the light. The basement had been boarded in on all sides, the windows covered with a thin layer of concrete to avoid the transpiration of sound. Tyki had gone to great lengths – great lengths – to be standing where he was, the single prettiest Exorcist he had ever met compromised in front of him. Enough lengths that the gaslights on either wall made the boy the center of attention, even if that was the last thing he wanted to be. Smiling, the Noah walked slowly away from Kanda, looking from afar for a moment until he began to circle. He was stalking his prey. He had to fight not lick his lips at the thought of it. He knew he was smiling too wide.
The fucking Noah of pleasure. It had to be one of them. Kanda couldn't have stumbled into a back alley and been mistaken for a women for a long enough moment to get himself sold as a sex slave – no, he had to be picked up by Tyki fucking Mikk.
Kanda lost sight of the Noah and blinked.
One moment he had been following the man with his eyes, and then the next he was gone, leaving nothing but the air behind. Rather than panic, Kanda took a moment to try and figure out where the hell he was – if there was a chance for escape knowing the exit would come in more than handy. His dark eyes swept across the floor hurriedly, coming across a table covered in a sheet with ominous bumps under it, iron rings and the loops of shackles, clamps that might have been used to hold wheels, stone tiles. No trap doors or loose looking grout. From there he searched the walls, or at least the three he could see from here. There were two windows on the far wall, but they were well out of reach and blocked by something almost white-gray in the firelight. Two gas lamps. Any number of collars and torture devices, only some of which he knew the names of. He didn't take the time to think about it.
It was just when his eyes had wandered to the ceiling that he felt something touching the back of his head. By the time he moved the Noah had already gathered a handful of hair to hold him in place, rocking dangerously on the balls of his feet.
Something thunked against the back of his head – like a snap – and the harsh yell he let out at it saw the gag out of his mouth, bouncing across the floor in front of his feet. At once he shivered and coughed, unable to curse at the moment from the pain in his jaw and lips, neither of them used to such treatment. He worked spit into his mouth in an effort to get the flavor from his tongue for a moment, pointedly ignoring who it was that had saw it fit to give him that freedom.
Tyki's gloved right hand came around from behind him and traced a slow, drying line up the side of his jaw and across his lips – Kanda snapped at him but bit nothing, missing the hand by inches. The one in his hair pulled back painfully, dragging his head back between his arms until he could see the Noah looking at him sidelong. He ground his molars in an effort not to say something foul. Saying something foul, being angry, those things wouldn't help him live and he knew it.
"Well?" Tyki smiled at him again. "Have you been up long?"
"I'll fucking kill you." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, making the Noah's eyebrow twitch in annoyance. Kanda didn't care if it annoyed him – things weren't looking good, there was no reason to be a good little prisoner and take it. "Where am I?!" He demanded, pulling with both of his arms in an effort to escape the larger man's grasp. Tyki pulled Kanda's face lower and leaned down at him, one eyebrow lifted over the other. The Japanese man saw an opportunity and took it – he gathered what he could of the moisture in his mouth and unleashed it at an angle at the black clad man, hoping it might catch his eye.
It was a wasted effort. The liquid splattered on the floor on the other side of the Noah just as Tyki's right hand slithered from its place on Kanda's skin to inside of his chest.
Kanda stiffened at the touch of fingers wrapping slowly, leisurely around his heart, a palm pressed to the side of it, squeezing just enough to make it uncomfortable. He swallowed thickly, fighting panic. He didn't want to die here. Not yet. Not until he was finished. He wasn't finished yet. More than anything – he could not die here.
"Fear. That's a very pleasant expression for your eyes, Kanda." Tyki observed very softly to him, his face almost neutral. The hand, however, squeezed suddenly, painfully, restricting the flow of blood from the samurai's heart. His back arched and his mouth opened, taking in gulps of air that didn't seem to do enough for him. Tyki smiled at it. With a renewed grip on the boy's hair and that continued level of pressure with his palm, he bent forward, speaking into the Exorcist's ear. "I want something from you, dear Exorcist, and all you have to do is agree to give it to me. It's nothing to do with your precious Order or your ever important friends, either. No, this will be a contract between you and me – and perhaps that sword of yours I have upstairs." He watched Kanda's eyes draw wide and chuckled softly. "Yes, your katana is safe. I would show it to you, but there are no doors in this room and I can't take it through solid objects. But!" He twitched his fingers a little, absolute panic washed across Kanda's face for the briefest of moments before it was gone. Tyki liked that look – panic, fear, pain, they all looked lovely on those soft and yet masculine features. "If that's not a good enough bargaining chip for you when you can't see it…" His lips brushed the skin of the boy's ear ever so softly. "I can crush your heart in my fist if you want me to."
The Japanese boy let out a cry of protest as the Noah closed his hand to the point of causing bruises. His heartbeat was completely erratic, far too rapid, his breaths suddenly off rhythm. Tyki waited until he saw blood in the back of the Exorcist's throat before he let go, pushing the younger man up so he could cough it up onto the floor rather than drown in it like the Noah might have allowed someone else, given the opportunity. Kanda shuddered violently as he emptied his throat and mouth of blood, gasping all the while. Once finished he looked up at the Noah with his hair hanging over his left eye and a string of blood swinging from his lips, leaning on his bonds. His left leg gave out and he didn't push himself up again, unable to at the moment. Finding his mouth rather unwilling to work, Kanda breathed out what blood he could in an effort not to choke on it, sending more to the stones between his feet.
He watched it fall.
Tyki reached out and took Kanda as gently by the chin as he could without losing control over him, and forced the samurai to meet his gaze, that same expression still plastered on his face. The boy didn't pull away at once this time, he simply waited. The Noah smiled at him more tenderly, almost humanly, as he leaned closer, holding the younger man within and inch of his eyes.
"I don't want to kill you, Kanda."
"Bullshit." The word marked a short fit of shallow coughing.
"I don't." Tyki persisted. The samurai's eyes met his and glared without any force, all of it lost in the trembling of his lower lip. His lower, blood-stained lip. The Noah of Pleasure eased slowly forward until his lips touched the Japanese man's in a slow, shallow, nearly nonexistent little kiss that Kanda no more responded to than he rejected it at once. Kanda simply stood there on his right foot, eyes wide. For that reason, Tyki took his time first nibbling the Exorcist's deliciously bloody lower lip, and then sucked it lightly before he finally licked what still remained of the liquid from Kanda's chin, savoring it as long as he could before he tried for more. There was no physical reaction on Kanda's end, no moment of repulsion or acceptance, he only blinked in a state of mild shock. With a chuckle, Tyki reached out and placed an almost soothing palm on the side of Kanda's face. "I don't much like the way you talk, but the rest of you…" None too subtly he stepped forward, left hand drifting to Kanda's hips, and tilted his pelvis into the smaller man.
All at once Kanda snapped. "No way in hell, motherfucker." Shoulders twisting frantically, he pushed himself back on his toes and scowled, turning the fear into anger in his chest. He could feel the heat coming from the other man, smell his cologne, his cigarettes, but Kanda didn't give a damn who he was, what he could do, how much it would hurt – all of those horrors, all of the torture devices scattered across the room didn't mean anything if he became angry. "Go fuck yourself. Just because you caught me somehow… don't let that make you think you control me. I'll tear your filthy Noah ass apart." He growled, still yanking at his bonds with everything he had in him. Tyki smiled and held him firm, rolling smoothly into the Japanese man's hips. "Get your Goddamn hands off me!"
"That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble. I have even asked fo—"
"You think I can't tell, fuck-face?! You think I can't feel your shriveled little dick poking at me through your pants?!" Kanda managed something like a barking laugh regardless of the fear evident in his eyes. "Che. Go find that little dream whore you keep around, you aren't getting shit from m—" He was cut off by something striking him in the cheek with enough force to snap his head sideways into his right bicep. The force, coupled with his already tense muscles, placed too much pressure on his collar bone, snapping it with a loud, sickening pop. A strangled sound of pain seeped through his lips and he closed his eyes to it, trying to force the feeling from his mind even as Tyki jerked his head up again, palpable anger filling the air between them.
"You're an ungrateful little git," Tyki breathed into Kanda's ear, twisting his hand ruthlessly in the samurai's hair. The Noah bent closer as he turned Kanda's face to him, left hand clamped on the younger man's lower jaw, forcing it slightly open. "As much as I would love to have your mouth free so I can hear you screaming my name as I fuck you, you don't deserve that freedom after insulting my niece like that. Also, you would know if you listened that I am going to do this to you, Kanda. That was never a question. I only wanted to know if you would lay with me if I promised to set you on your way when we were finished." Tyki saw the younger man try to reply and tightened his hold. Kanda's eyebrows danced together in pain and fear. "It doesn't matter now. I know exactly what to use on you. But first…"
Kanda tried to bite the tongue that eased into his mouth, teasing at the soft places on the insides of his cheeks, lightly flitting across the roof of his mouth. His cheek was bleeding from the blow already, so when his own teeth sank into it he didn't stop at once, too set on getting the Noah to stop kissing him, if only for a moment. He couldn't think with that tongue sliding across his, couldn't scream, couldn't do anything but tremble at what the man had said to him. Kanda knew he would rather die. Humiliation wasn't something he dealt with well, not from anyone – especially not his enemies.
When Tyki had had enough he pulled away to find Kanda's eyes closed to him. The expression, if not for the tiny drip of blood that the Noah had missed, might have been serene. With one last look at of the Japanese man's features together, he reached out his right hand pulled a personal belonging to him – a bridle of iron he knew would likely fit his victim. He didn't let Kanda see until he had shaken it open and placed a pleasant smile on his lips.
"What the Hell—"
"A scold's bridle," Tyki interrupted the question before it could finish, "Traditionally used in Europe to stop women from saying unnecessary or unpleasant things. Not only is it uncomfortable, it also has this remarkable thing here…" He turned it one handed to allow Kanda to see better and indicated what looked to be a mouth piece laden with small edges and points, all of them sharp enough to cut through skin. For a moment the Japanese Exorcist wondered why something like that would be there and then it occurred to him – and his mouth opened to protest. Tyki laughed at him, low and cruel before releasing Kanda's hair and stepping into him, smiling at how the Exorcist leaned away. "If you cooperate I promise not to cinch it very tight."
"Go to Hell."
"I've been there. Not as bad as it seems."
"If you fucking touch me with tha—" Kanda stopped at the touch of fingers on his chin, holding his head up to the Noah in front of him.
Tyki's expression was almost sympathetic. "You had your chance. I told you your mouth would get you into trouble and you didn't believe me, is that not fair? I will be putting this on you, that isn't something you can stop. The only thing you can do is decide how much pain you want to be in, Kanda. What will it be? Your pride for your pleasure?" The Noah let his fingers trail up Kanda's cheek as he lifted the bridle closer, pulling one eyebrow over the other when the Japanese boy didn't react at first, just staring at him in disbelief, and perhaps terror. It was not until Tyki opened the metal cage that Kanda thrashed backward, sending his hair back in a curtain of ebony silk.
"No! I won't play your fucking games, Noah! Take your bridle and shov—" To Kanda's horror Tyki took him by the hair and pushed his face into the muzzle of metal, a line of cold searing across his forehead where it touched. Panic stiffened every muscle in Kanda's neck as he felt the lock snap into place on the back of his head and a startled protest filled his mouth, louder than any that had come before. His jaw was open when Tyki shoved the bit into it, tightening it across his lips so the sharp points of the mouth piece sank into Kanda's tongue, the muscle ringed uncomfortably. The Japanese man let out a strangled scream of pain as the cage tightened about his head and locked his jaw open, blood pooling in the back of his throat, threatening to choke him. The Noah let go of him, so he leaned forward and gagged for a moment while he growled in the bottom of his chest in fury.
Regardless of the agony in his right collar bone, Kanda writhed against the things that held him, seething through the gore that had gathered at the front of his mouth, anger burning like fire behind his eyes.
Tyki moved around Kanda one more time, watching him for a moment, trailing a finger along the younger man's hips. "You'll find that speaking is rather impossible with that on – and there are two tighter settings after that, by the way. If you don't try to move your tongue, however, you'll find it something you can get used to. It's been slightly modified, as you can likely tell. The original wouldn't have cut you quite as easily." He stopped his slow circle of Kanda's body and pulled the younger man's head up with a single finger hooked in the bit of the bridle. "Is this enough for you? Or are you going to fight me even when you can't say no?"
"Nehuu."
The Noah smiled. "You know that you aren't helping your situation by being stubborn, ne?"
"Hukkuh."
"Just remember, Kanda Yuu," Tyki whispered as his hands wandered to the sides of the muzzle and began to secure it better, uncomfortably tight, holding the samurai's jaw from even the slightest of movements. The Noah saw the hatred on Kanda's face falter for a moment, overcome by the realization that only the part over his forehead and in his mouth had been fitted before, not the bars down the sides of his face or the one that hooked under his jaw. "You don't have a choice in what I do, only the means by which I do it."
Those words, coupled with the final adjustments to the bridle, made Kanda shiver. Tyki, he hated to admit, was right. There wasn't shit he could with his hands tied up over his head by God knew what, his ankles tied down the same, and a fucking muzzle on, complete with a razor sharp bit that held his mouth open. There was nothing he could do about the eyes looking at his with that soft, warm gold color. Nothing he could do to stop the bare hand trailing down the skin of his chest, the other curving around his back to drag him gently forward, the open pair of lips coming for the juncture of his throat.
The Japanese man purposely pressed his raw tongue upward in an effort to distract himself with pain. He closed his eyes. This wasn't happening. He was somewhere else with someone else – it didn't matter who – and he was only sore in all of the wrong places because of a fight the night before. He was anywhere but here. He was on his bed, white blankets gathered uncomfortably beneath him, and a mouth – maybe it was someone he knew – sucking lightly at the flesh of his chest, pulling it between their teeth, holding him securely around the hips with their hands. That, at least, didn't hurt. The sensation went lower, pausing at the places that made him shiver, and a warm hand spilled into the fabric of his pants, teasing the half hard erection that had started to form there. God, he didn't care if he was deluding himself, didn't care when his head tilted back and missed his pillow, jerking at his collar bone agonizingly. He cared about that hand, stroking him into hardness.
He cared about the soft chuckle that sounded against his throat and the slow, nipping bite that closed on his left ear. Being a virgin, coldhearted, and hot-tempered didn't mean that Kanda had never entertained the thought of this – a hot tongue sliding across his skin and a hand palming him constantly – but it wasn't something he was used to. A thumb slipped over the top of his erection, testing the tip of it, and he let out a strangled moan from behind the hunk of iron in his mouth, an obstruction that he had almost forgot was there.
"You're shaking, Kanda-kun." The voice could have belonged to anyone, he convinced himself, anyone but Tyki Mikk. "I wonder if that's from my hand on you or if you've been in this position for too long to be comfortable." The person breathed against the corner of Kanda's mouth, their hand slowed. The Japanese man fought down the urge to try and speak. "I won't take off the bridle, but there are more pleasant ways for both of us. Would you like that, Kanda-kun? A bed perhaps? From how you close your eyes I'm guessing you don't much like to look at me – perhaps a blindfold would be to your taste?"
What the fuck do you care? Kanda's mind chimed at once. You're committing rape, aren't you? What does it matter if I like it? I don't care. I'll just be as still as I ca—
"You're very pretty when you decide to be determined, Kanda-kun."
Determined to fucking kill you, bastard.
"I told you that I didn't want to hurt you, boya." Tyki – the illusion had begun to fade to the point that Kanda knew the voice even if he wouldn't allow himself to believe the hand in his pants belonged to the Noah – whispered against the still wet flesh of the Japanese man's ear. "So let's put an end to it, shall we?"
Almost at once the hand was gone from Kanda's arousal and his arms fell from the hold of his bonds, sending him falling for the stone floor, eyes shocked wide. He couldn't stop himself from groaning when his right arm moved, thus jostling his still less-than perfect clavicle. The mark on his chest was fixing that slowly, but it didn't stop the pain of the moment or the fall of his very sore legs toward the floor. An arm caught him just around the waist, almost gently, and he found himself struggling almost at once, tearing at something he couldn't touch. The Noah laughed at him almost silently. Kanda didn't even try to speak at the sound.
They turned together, Kanda's fingers sliding through the Noah's gasp even as they moved away from the middle of the room and to the back of it that he had yet to see. He dragged his feet even though his legs protested the action no small amount, bruising his heels, until the Noah threw him none-too-gently down, pinning him against what felt like a mattress. The Japanese man didn't fight the hands that closed on his wrists for a moment, too surprised by the angle of his spine against the bed, crying out in silent agony after having been held in the same position for so long. The Noah let go of Kanda's left wrists – which stayed on the sheets for the moment – and moved his hand to the samurai's shoulder almost tenderly. With slow, soft motions, Tyki eased the younger man's face upward, perfectly aware of how Kanda's eyes closed before they could reach the ceiling and his hands fisted against the strain on his spine.
But Kanda didn't lash out. He didn't move his head down when Tyki breathed hot air down the side of his face. He simply kept his eyes closed, flatly devoid of emotion while his heart thumped painfully in his chest, too fast to hold the pace long. The press of lips to his cheek, so distant he might have thought it imagined if he hadn't known better, brought his eyes open again, hardly focused on the golden irises in front of him.
"There are cords, if that would make you feel better about this." The Noah whispered, and a finger ran under Kanda's left eye, delicately, completely without threat. Kanda sighed softly before he looked up and, knowing exactly what he was doing, nodded. To his surprise the Noah continued to stroke the skin of his face as if thinking something very distant, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth softly. "I am glad that we have come to something of an understanding, Kanda." Tyki seemed as if that hadn't been his intended statement, but Kanda wasn't of the mind or of the facilities to question him. "Here we go…"
Kanda let his eyes close again. The hand that had remained on his right wrists moved away and he dared to hope that he could shove the Noah off in that moment, maybe run. He didn't, however. He didn't even shift his weight to try. If he moved, if he threw himself to the side and the room indeed lacked proper exits, he doubted he would find anything with which to defend himself. Rope, slick and cool against his skin of his right wrist, pulled Kanda's hand above his head a bit, bent at the elbow, and pressed the back of it against the frame above his head. As it was knotted he knew there was going back now, no fighting it, no stopping what Tyki had claimed he would do. The securing of his left wrist, just as tight as his right, made his chest tighten and his tongue try to lift from the bottom of his mouth – an act he stopped with nothing but his will and a breath. Compromised, his shirtless chest open to the Noah, he decided that there was only one course of action left to him – complete and utter unresponsiveness. Logic told him that pushing, fighting, or even showing that he cared about the half-hard organ leaning against his right thigh under the fabric of his pants would likely result in Tyki's satisfaction.
So he relaxed his shoulders and his fingers, forced his breaths to come in slow, even waves, and waited. Waited for what he knew would come.
Tyki stayed perfectly still for a moment before Kanda felt a lips on the underside of his throat and soft fingertips testing the sensitivity of his left nipple. The touch on his chest became a tender pinch and the mouth on his throat became a biting, sucking force, working at his flesh. Heat washed his face for a moment before he quelled the reaction, swallowing thickly. The hands on his chest flattened and slipped down his side, traveling the line of his ribs before it came to his hip and then traveled inward, and a finger dipped into the hollow of his navel before moving onward, pressing to the middle of his chest. The Noah shifted back on the Exorcist's thighs and Kanda fought down a shiver – Tyki's tongue started down his chest, toward the middle, wet and warm and dancing across the nerves of his skin. Kanda wanted to breathe deeper, feeling short of breath, but denied himself the reaction. He pushed his tongue against the bite in his mouth and squinted his eyes to the teasing teeth along the arch of his ribcage.
Something pushed at the crotch of his pants in a slow path, following the line caused by his undoubtedly stiffening erection. It was the hardest thing not to moan at it, or clench his fingers into his palms and roll his hips into that slow, teasing touch. The motion was repeated and Kanda' right eyebrow twitched without his meaning it to. That hand knew exactly what it was doing. The pressure it gave and the lack of rhythm, coupled with the press of a warm, wet mouth to the dip of his navel made his throat tighten almost painfully, every thought he had revolving around those sensations, and the fingers that pushed his pants lower on his hips.
Kanda managed to only narrow his eyes more when he felt himself divested of pants and underwear in a single, embarrassing motion that sent his unwilling erection bobbing against his stomach. The appreciative sound that Tyki made – a sort of clicking grunt in the back of his throat – only made his face heat once again.
He hated this. More than anything that had happened to him before, more than Lavi braiding his hair or Allen beating him at name calling, he hated how naked he was in front of Tyki Mikk. He hated the fear in his chest and the feeling that every muscle in his body wanted something – anything – to be touching him at the moment, if only to stop the humiliation before it started.
"God, I could fuck you right now, Kanda Yuu." Tyki's breath was so close to Kanda's length, playing up the inside of his right thigh while fingers held his legs open, bruising. "But I'd much rather hear you moan for me to first. You've been so quiet; it's almost as if you think being unresponsive will make me stop. That's not the case. I'll just do it slower." The Noah bent his head and laid an open-mouthed kiss on the junction of leg and pelvis, lapping at it with enough enthusiasm to make Kanda's leg tense and his cock twitch, good and yet entirely under satisfying. With a soft chuckle Tyki moved his mouth inward, deliberately avoiding the hardened flesh that silently begged to be touched.
Kanda fisted his hands and clenched his jaw against the bit in his mouth, a powerful shiver raced up his spine. A gasp seared through his throat as Tyki licked the base of his arousal and moved agonizingly to the top of it, still pinning his legs and his hips. It took every ounce of Kanda's will not to make a sound. The shivers, however, weren't something he could stop. His breathing was rapid again, his hands pulling at the ropes, and he breathed as deeply as he could through his nose in an effort to calm himself, in an effort to remind himself why it was that he wanted to remain silent and unmoving.
Suddenly wet warmth engulfed his length from tip to base and his eyes shocked open, a loud, undeniable cry ripped from the back of his throat. At once he wanted to struggle, to kick his legs with as much force as he could, but he stopped short, his face overcome with shock. Above him, right where he could see exactly what was going on, was a mirror, reflecting his expression at him. He could see the dark metal frame around his face, pushing his hair to his skull. He could see the blush on his cheeks, his parted lips. He could see his hands fisted by the bars of the bed frame, white knuckled and red palmed, his wrists rubbed raw. He could see his own quivering legs spread wide, the paler flesh of his thighs marred by purple finger marks, his ankles almost black from welts. And lastly, horrifyingly, he could see the back and top of Tyki's head hovering over the space between his legs. The sound of denial that worked its way out of his lips didn't do the humiliation justice, didn't convey the suddenly hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach or the clenching of his heart in his chest. The soft lighting and the contrast of his own ebony hair on the white sheets brought bile dancing to the back of his throat.
He wanted to close his eyes, but his own image captivated him too much to allow him to draw his gaze away, even for a moment.
Tyki moaned around the flesh in his mouth and Kanda watched his own hips roll in answer; his head tilted back a little, a small sparkle of saliva shimmering at the corner of his mouth. So weak. So vulnerable. He was a broken doll lying on a child's bed, and Tyki's left hand in the center of his stomach a means to break him further. Or maybe he was a whore, supplicant and malleable under those worshipful fingers. Or an image of Epona cast from the back of her steed and forced into its bridle, immortality shirked for a nonbeliever's pleasure. He didn't know, but none of his thoughts measured up to how he felt.
A darkly colored hand massaged at his testicles, while the other slipped into the Noah's pocket. Kanda didn't kick at him. The thought of watching himself unable to hurt the Noah stopped him. When he saw a tube of what had to be lubricant he allowed himself to hope that this was nearly over, that Tyki would just violate him before he ended it all. He couldn't see what came of the tube, but he felt Tyki's head bob on his length before pulling away with a wet sound of suction and a growl, then a very wet kiss below his navel. Kanda didn't want the kiss, nor did he want to groan at the loss of warmth on his length, he didn't want to roll his pelvis upward in the desire to have something pressed against his rock hard cock. Above all, he didn't want to see his jaw pull against the bridle as a cold, wet finger pushed all too quickly inside of him.
He wanted to scream but the sound came out muffled. His arms yanked at the ropes on his wrists, his legs finally tried to jerk away from the Noah's hold. It was fruitless. His efforts were rewarded with nothing but another finger crammed mercilessly beside the first, stretching him at a ridiculous pace, both of them pumping in and out without even the slightest pause to prepare him. Kanda wrapped his fingers around the bars by his head and pulled himself upward in an effort to escape that hand. A palm took him by the hips and pinned them. A third finger pushed beside the other two, threading a scream through his lips.
He didn't want it. He didn't like it. Those wiggling, painful fingers were the bane of his existence.
His reflection told him otherwise. Back arched from the mattress, legs wide, a mixture of blood and spit on his chin, trembling – he really could have been a whore. And there wasn't a thing he could do about it anymore.
"When I first saw you, I knew at once that you were someone I had to have," Tyki whispered, and his face blocked the mirror for an instant, something for which Kanda was undeniably grateful for. Even if he couldn't follow the words, even if he could see his tormentor so very close, it was better than watching himself wordlessly plead for more. "I would like to hear you scream my name, Kanda. Also, I would enjoy kissing you very much at the moment. Too bad you can't hold your tongue." The Portuguese man curled his fingers until Kanda let out a loud scream that had to be half pain and half pleasure, his eyes nearly shut, moisture gathered at the corners of their lids. Tyki moved his hand in the exact same way and grinned at the way the younger man exposed his throat willingly, little tears escaping down the sides of his face.
It was now or never.
Kanda groaned at the loss of the fingers within him, used to the mild discomfort enough to enjoy the pleasure they caused. He looked down the length of his body to see the clothed Noah open his belt and pull down the crisp fabric of his slacks to free his engorged manhood, which he rubbed his wet hand across, slicking it. Panic settled in the hollow of Kanda's chest. This was happening. He was being violated by this man – this enemy – and his body was begging for it, his hips encouraging this man who he hated to do whatever it was that he wanted if only for this moment.
Tyki took the Exorcist by the hips and positioned himself leaning most over the younger man, looking at Kanda's eyes, watching him blink. The Noah touched the side of his face for a moment, brushing away a strand of sweat soaked hair before he kissed the Japanese man lightly on the brow, carding his fingers through his bangs. "Don't hold back, Kanda-kun. If you hate me more for this, then show me that hate. Let me feel your anger. Fuck me back with it."
Fuck you back? They were the first words Kanda's mind had produced in a number of moments and it felt odd to think them. He didn't want to think, not at the moment. Why would I—
"If you hate me so much, shouldn't you want to take something from me?"
Che. Your life doesn't count, does it?
"So take pleasure from me."
That, somehow, made a little sense. Kanda didn't have time to mull it over however, as the Noah thrust forward, pushing the heated rod of his erection into the hole he had attempted to stretch for the intrusion. A sound of pain and terror escaped Kanda's throat at it. It wasn't the same as fingers. Larger, harder, slower. Off the top of his head he couldn't think of something that had hurt more than this did, anything that made him feel this weak. Tyki was inside of him, forcing into a place that he could have accepted someone else into, pounding into it, completely different than shoving a hand into his chest. Having his heart touched was dangerous, a threat to his life, but this – this was trespassing into a part of him he never thought to let anyone touch. The urge to fight alighted again in Kanda's chest.
Kanda threw his hips forward and upward, matching Tyki's rhythm with a vengeance, growling from behind the bridle. He didn't care if it hurt, he didn't care if it felt good, he didn't care if Tyki moaned down at him and touched the skin of his chest with shaking palms – he cared that it was his way of having a say. This way, pushing himself into the older man, giving himself leverage with the bed frame squeezed between his hands, he couldn't even think about anything but taking something back for what he lost. To his surprise the Noah shifted against him, the better to press at his prostate, and a warm hand wrapped mercilessly around the length of his cock, squeezing and pumping with such force that he whined in the back of his throat, moving half-desperately. It didn't matter if he didn't want this man. It didn't matter if he didn't want any man. All that mattered was the wet sound between them and the waves of too-fast, too-hot, too-close pleasure building in his gut.
"You look like a whore, Kanda-kun," Tyki's voice made him growl in the back of his throat – talking wasn't something he was in the mood for. "A beautiful fucking whore…"
Tyki shifted on his knees and slowed his movements, which in turn left Kanda bucking into his hand desperately, jerking his hips at the older man. The Noah pushed himself forward to the hilt and stopped, his hand still manipulating the Japanese man's body into twitching regardless of his will. Kanda heard a sound of discontent creak in his throat and opened his eyes, then closed them – he didn't need to see himself like this, if even for a moment.
"Did you want more?" The Noah gave a savage rock with his hips and bent forward, bringing his lips mere inches from Kanda's, his hand still moving at that irritatingly languid pace. A thumb swirled across the head of the Japanese man's erection and he whimpered again, loudly. It hadn't taken him long to get so close – so fucking close – and now the Noah was just keeping him there, watching him writhe against the ropes and fuck himself slowly, face red with humiliation. Tyki laughed at him but Kanda couldn't stop himself, couldn't do anything but moan. Couldn't do anything but lift his hips again and again, sliding down the Noah's length before pushing himself up. "I suppose," The Noah pulled back and pressed forward with a rush with the words, matching the movement with his hand. "I should take," he moved again, the same as before. "That as a yes, ne?" He leaned down and forced Kanda's hips up only to bring them down again, slamming the younger man's prostate with enough force to bring his eyes open again. The pace was equally ruthless, Kanda noted, and the pressure that had gathered under his navel began to turn again, tightening until he knew that in only a moment he would – even though he didn't want to – he would—
"Come for me," Tyki husked at him, his breathing ragged. "Hime…chan."
Kanda arched from the mattress, his voice cracking behind the bit, and the pool of heat and pressure in the pit of his stomach released in a flood of blinding pleasure so powerful it curled his toes in the sheets and bent him like bow, white knuckled hands yanking at the bars above him. Tyki made a sound of appreciation and pounded onward, filling that suddenly smaller space again and again and again, milking the Japanese man for all he was worth. At length Kanda felt a rush of wet heat between his legs and the Noah's hand fluttered like a broken winged bird to his hip, leaving his half revived arousal throbbing and oversensitive, dripping with his orgasm.
For a moment the two were still, panting in deep, heavy breaths, trembling with sweat induced cold. Kanda saw himself reflected above them – his face rouged, eyes dulled, his fingers still curled around the bars above his head, and Tyki's head moving slowly, slowly, toward his chest. The press of the Noah's forehead on Kanda's solar plexus made the smaller man shudder. He wanted to be angry, wanted to make a violent move against Tyki, but he couldn't bring himself to, not when the other man looked up with soft brown eyes and, despite everything, smiled.
Kanda saw then that Tyki's right hand was drenched in his semen, and watched from his awkward angle as the Noah brought it to his mouth and slowly, curiously, licked it from his skin.
That shouldn't have been arousing, but he felt himself flush all the same.
The Noah pulled away with a wince, leisurely smearing what remained on his hand on the corner of the bed, and stood to do up his pants. Kanda watched Tyki smooth his clothes, waiting, and held the Noah's eyes when he turned back. Tyki smiled again and sank down beside the bed, pulling the samurai's face up by the metal of his bridle.
"Think about my offer, Hime-chan." He said with a little smirk of self approval. He pushed himself up and took two steps back, watching Kanda's eyes widen in disbelief and confusion, dark blue irises dilating as if the change might show him what he had missed. The Noah chuckled lowly and stopped, grinning mercilessly. "I would have promised to let you go afterward, remember? I never actually did. You never let me get that far." With a flourish he bowed to the gaping Exorcist before lifting a hand in farewell, his expression completely and utterly satisfied. Kanda felt dread sinking into the bottom of his gut.
You fucking prick…
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a dinner to grace with my presence."
-- -- --
Awkward ending? Meh. It made me laugh. Whatever.
Maybe if you ask there will be a part two?