So. I don't know what came over me. I just watched PtKitD, and, well... this is what came to mind. It's short, don't worry.
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
...
The child was beautiful.
Of course, being his relative, that was to be expected. Good looks ran in their family, but his were something exceptional. He was exquisite, radiating innocence and good-will with those bright eyes and small, pale hands. Everything about him was lovely and perfect, from his hair to his cherub's features to his tinkling laughter, and Kyousuke was absolutely enraptured by his nephew.
His son.
That was what he was. The child was his son, because he had raised him to think that. Blood-ties didn't matter - Mira called him 'papa' so that was what he was. And the boy loved him as unconditionally as any young child would love a parent.
There's a part of him that enjoyed that too much.
Nothing made him feel better, more satisfied and content and wonderful, than hearing those three precious words from that tiny mouth, "I love you." The only thing that compared was saying those words himself and seeing that little face light up with happiness.
There's a part of him that knows these thoughts are wrong.
And he did love his son. Mira was the best thing to happen in his life, bringing him joy and purpose and everything he was missing. He worked hard to raise him and take care of him, and nothing was so gratifying as seeing that smile directed at him, seeing that hand reach out to him, receiving a hug or kiss in appreciation.
There's a part of him that knows he's disgusting for the way he reacts to such innocent touches.
He wondered at how different his life would have been if his sister had been able to keep Mira. Would he have met a woman and fallen in love with her? Would he have had a normal life? Or would he still be feeling this… this… for the boy, regardless of who raised him?
You're a filthy pervert.
And so he is. Thinking that whenever he sees his own face doesn't stop the dreams, the reactions, the longing and desire. It doesn't stop him from wanting to taste those lips, to touch that body in all the ways no father should ever touch his child. It doesn't stop him.
He's only seven!
But God, he's so beautiful. He's so perfect and lovely, panting and crying and holding onto him tight, whispering, "Papa, it feels weird." And he just wants to touch him and never stop. To kiss him and hold him and make love to him -
You sick son of a bitch.
- and his little angel is trembling in his arms, writhing and making soft, confused noises at the sensations his father is showing to him. He's so scared, so unsure. "Is this okay? Is this what you want, Papa?"
And God, it is. He wants nothing more.
You're fucking disgusting.
...
Um, so like, whoa. Different for me. Just a little creepy.
Anyway, review if you have time, please.