title: of humiliation and spoils of war

characters/pairing: Byakuran, Irie Shouichi, 10051 but not really.

warnings: non-consensual, overall disturbing content.


The forest reeked of death and malice; the scent managing to bring water into the green eyes behind thick-framed glasses that had once upon a time been a valuable present from his dearest friend.

Bring all the madness in the world, and you still wouldn't compare to the madness that is Byakuran and his twisted ways – this is Irie Shouichi's humble opinion that was etched into his mind, burnt there, clinging to him like a tattoo.

This thought was the one his mind clung to in desperation, out of righteous anger and despair, as Byakuran's hand stroked him through his blood-splattered pants, long fingers teasing the erection Shouichi did not want to have. So lightly. So deceivingly gently.

Shouichi's head hung low; shame, anger and fear coursing through his veins as Byakuran's crotch bucked against his behind, Byakuran's erection pressing against Shouichi's ass. Meanwhile Byakuran's hands were busy, the other one stroking Shouichi and the other on Shouichi's stomach, forcing his fomrer friend to stay on all fours.

Shouichi breathed heavily, fingers curling around the grass underneath them, eyes staring at the ground unseeingly; lifting his head up would mean seeing themtheir dead bodies, lifeless eyes pointed towards them. Dull hues staring at the two, lifeless and cold, and Shouichi hates how Byakuran is doing this to him in front of the bloodied corpses of the Vongola guardians and allies.

"You're really enjoying this, Shou-chan," Byakuran's smooth, unperturbed voice remarked as he palmed Shouichi's erection, applying pressure on the bulge and pressing Shouichi's ass against his own crotch. "I didn't think you were into... ah, this kind of stuff."

Shouichi shook – out of anger, out of the unwanted pleasure that curled inside him, tugging at the corners of his mind and stomach. Despicable, his mind screamed, but his mouth gasped when Byakuran's hand slithered over to the zipper of Shouichi's pants, unzipping them in one smooth motion as Byakuran rocked himself against Shouichi slowly, tantalizingly, shamelessly in front of Tsunayoshi and others.

"Shou-chan's into exhibitionism, who would have thought," Byakuran crooned as his fingers lightly danced on Shouichi's underwear, feeling up the traitor's arousal through the thin fabric. Hot, pulsing arousal that made no sense to Shouichi, whose mind was starting to lose the grip on reality it had previously had. "Or is it the fact that it's Tsunayoshi-kun watching?"

He's dead, you monster, Shouichi wanted to say, his shoulders and whole frame shaking underneath Byakuran's body. He wanted to say so much more, wanted to scream until his vocal chords would give out, but what came from his mouth was not an expression of hate, but a moan – a reluctant one, but an expression of immense pleasure, anyhow.

Fingers slid under his underwear, and Shouichi nearly sobbed – he could feel the hot tears prickling his eyes, he could feel the beginnings of a sob in his throat, but he was not allowed to cry for himself nor the others..

"Ah, it must be Tsunayoshi-kun," Byakuran hummed pleasantly, his voice treacherously close to Shouichi's ear, body heat radiating to Shouichi's clothed back. Another thrust of narrow hips, and Shouichi arms nearly buckled underneath him. "Because he's special to you, ne?" The hard edge in Byakuran's voice could cut, and it did precisely that, sending Shouichi's already crumbled composure to the trashcan.

The clearing had been emptied from people, asides the corpses, and Byakuran and Shouichi were the only ones alive, the only ones making any sounds at all, and Shouichi decided that this was worse than being publicly humiliated.

Only they remained in the burnt ground, in the midst of scorched corpses, committing the highest disrespect for the dead he could imagine.

Shouichi cried out when Byakuran's fingers stroked him, shuddered when Byakuran finally pulled the redhead's pants down, and closed his eyes when he heard the sounds of Byakuran's own pants coming undone. Breathe, he told himself, remember to breathe, and relax.

This was just anothers means Byakuran used to break him, after all, and he'd be damned if he actually let Byakuran succeed.

"But don't worry," Byakuran murmured, teeth scraping at the tender flesh of Shouichi's earlobe, his hard shaft poking at Shouichi's entrance, which made Shouichi even more frigid and tense despite his attempt on relaxing his mucles. "I'll forgive Shou-chan for picking him over me." A swift movement of Byakuran's hips, and Shouichi screamed – screamed so hard that he was sure his vocal chords would shatter – and it echoed in the clearing, in the silence of prevailing death.

It was a horrible, terrible, agonizing pain tearing him from the inside, and it made Shouichi whimper out loud, choked sobbing not so choked anymore and water drops fell from his eyes at the forceful penetration. The pain cleared the haze in his mind for a moment, allowing him to realize how naive he had been in wishing for Byakuran's salvation.

His hands trembled, queaked; Byakuran's merely gripped him and stroked him, fast and torturously, the pressure and friction enough to have Shouichi moan of pleasure again despite the pain tearing at his hurt, hurt, hurt so much, but his body wanted more, despite the thick veil of humiliation that gripped his mind.

And that made it much worse; for his body to want this sickening act, there had to be something wrong with him, something wrong with his mentality too.

Byakuran's tongue flicked at his ear, moving down to the neck next; licking, licking, licking like a feline before teeth sank into the skin hard as hips thrust into Shouichi, the impact making Shouichi's arms give in and Shouichi's head fell over his arms on the ground, his ass now sticking up in an even more mortifying manner.

"Shou-chan likes being fucked like this," Byakuran murmured nastily, his lips no longer near his ears, but still close enough for his breath to ticke Shouichi's flushed, hot skin. Close enough to make Shouichi's skin crawl and tingle in disgust. Byakuran's hand gripped Shouichi's hip, nails pricking at the skin and tearing at it as his other one squeezed the redhead's manhood with long, slender fingers. "Ne, Shou-chan..."

Shouichi writhed, pathetically so, and he pressed his forehead against his arms as he tried to swallow back the sobs that silently wrecked his body as much as Byakuran did. Tears stained his pallid, colourless cheeks; tears of humiliation and anger, regret and fear, trickled down.

Monster, Shouichi wanted to say, to scream at Byakuran, but the sharp roll of Byakuran's hips made his complaints die out as he grunted, the pain flooding his senses along with the shameful pleasure that made his erection grow harder.

"Ne, Shou-chan," Byakuran repeated, and Shouichi realized through the haze of painful desire clouding his mind that Byakuran was smirking – another one of Byakuran's darker than black smiles that never promised anything even relatively innocent. "I'll make you sure you won't run away from me again." It was a promise, a threat that was not hidden at all, and Byakuran sealed it by quickening the pace of his thrusts, blood and sweat and precum working as lubrification.


Spoils of victory, and humiliation of defeat.

Byakuran shuddered with desire as he leered at Shouichi's shaking form – trembling legs, arms, sweaty mess of auburn hair – and he absently licked at his lower lip, violet eyes narrowing into slits as his hand went lower, fingertips teasing at Shouichi's balls. Lovingly. Hurtfully. Mockingly.

Oh, how wonderful it felt to thoroughly violate Shou-chan's body like this, to shove his dick into the readhead's body fast and hard enough to make blood flow – to tear out the last bits of innocence that Shouichi had in front of the rigid, decaying bodies of the people Shouichi had chosen instead of Byakuran.

A big mistake, Shou-chan – Byakuran wasn't the most forgiving of men, after all, and he was most definitely not benevolent enough to leave his Judas without punishment.

"You won't get away, Shou-chan," Byakuran purred, albeit breathlessly as his own arousal went high, pale cheeks flushed and sweat trailing down his own neck, almost as sticky as Shouichi's precum that dripped down to Byakuran's hand. "There's no place for you to go, anymore, Shou-chan, so won't you come back to my side?" Byakuran's nails dig deeper into his dearest friend's side, eliciting a pained mewl in the midst of panting.

So close. So close to spilling himself into Shouichi's reluctant, stiff body, so close to bringing the greatest humiliation he could give the redhead in front of Vongola corpses.

And, Byakuran mused with glee as Shouichi's cock twitched in his hold, Shou-chan's body wants it. Adorable, oh so very adorable.

In the midst of Shouichi's ragged breathing and hoarse cries, Byakuran heard a faint 'never', but he didn't let that bother him – instead he pulled himself out of Shouichi, only to slam back in the rehdead with all the force he could muster after the bloody battle with Sawada Tsunayoshi.

From that guttural moan that echoed in the clearing, it must have been more than even Byakuran himself had assumed – that, or Shouichi's body really wanted this. Both options were oh so appealing, but the latter one was Byakuran's favourite by far.

"You want me," Byakuran murmured, hand deceptively gentle on Shouichi's throbbing erection as the thumb flicked at the moist head of Shouichi's length. "Shou-chan wants me, even if his precious friends are dead because of me, ne?" If words could cut, then these were certain to slash right into Shouichi's heart and tear it.

Byakuran sneered as he shivered with newfound excitement – he always did love taunting people when he fucked them, when they were this vulnerable, this adorable.

"Shou-chan, you might just be the crueler one out of us two," Byakuran whispered as he squeezed Shouichi's length, hard, and let out a breathless snicker when Shouichi's body went rigid, those inner muscles tightening around Byakuran's girth, and then Shouichi screamed, sobbed, out Byakuran's name with anger, hate and oh so unwanted desire when he came into Byakuran's hand, sperm spilling on the grass and the warm hand.

But what was more wonderful than the warmth of Shouichi's sperm on his hand was definitely the ragged sobs that continued to shake Shouichi's body beneath him.

Curiously, Byakuran brought the hand from Shouichi's cock to the redhead's chin, turning it around as much as the joints of Shouichi's neck allowed. Ah, just as he had thought – clear, translucent tears streamed down Shouichi's cheek from the corner of one dull green eye that still boiled with resentment... but there was that lovely broken quality in that eye, and Byakuran grinned, widely, at the sight.

Perfect.

But admiration would have to wait – right now, he was busy. Moving his hips, thrusting himself deeper into Shouichi and paid no mind to the blood that trickled down himself, staining his skin. It was close, that euphoric feeling of orgasm, Byakuran knew, and it was mostly incited out of him by the sense of utter satisfaction of cracking Shouichi a little bit more.

With a sharp breath that could have been a strangled moan, Byakuran came – his seed flooding into Shouichi, who shivered even more at the feeling of a thick substance filling him up as Byakuran gave the last compulsory thrusts to milk himself completely out into his dearest and most prized possession.

Shouichi's body slumped completely against the burnt grass when Byakuran retracted himself from the redhead, and quiet sobs could be heard as wind whirled by, birds still ominously silent.

I love you, Shou-chan... The past words mattered no more, the past utterances had been swept under the rug the moment Shouichi's betrayal had become evident.

This was nothing more than a punishment, nothing more than branding Shouichi to him completely, in front of dead witnesses.

"Shou-chan, I really hope I won't have to do this again."

I love you too, Byakuran-san.

Past could not be erased, but it could not be returned either; nothing would ever be the same between them, and both of them knew it.

Hatred and a sense of possession would consume what was left of their fragile relationship, twisting that easy friendship even more than it had already been.

Nothing would ever be the same.