Healing His Wounds: Chapter 1 - Moral Robbery
Eiri parked his sleek black car haphazardly in the driveway and angrily slammed the door. He stormed up to his apartment and immediately threw his computer against the couch; he was absolutely furious that his editor rejected his story; he was so confident and happy about this one, thinking it would truly be a winner, but it was sadly not to be. As he made his way toward the kitchen, he listened for any sounds...
"Good", he thought, "The brat isn't here."
Reaching into the refrigerator, he pulled an unopened 6 pack of beer and a bottle of cheap wine out and carried it with him to the couch. He steadily emptied the cans one by one, which was plenty to intoxicate even Eiri, but the wine put him far over the edge. He drank the entire bottle, drowning out his sorrows with alcohol. Finishing those remaining drops, he dropped the bottle and sprawled out on the couch, lost in intoxication and unable to see, act, or even think clearly. To be perfectly blunt, he was completely trashed.
At the studio, Shuichi fanned himself after a long rehearsal in sweltering temperatures.
"Don't you people believe in air conditioning?", Shuichi barked in a hoarse tone.
"The air conditioning is broken, remember Shu?", Hiro replied, equally exhausted.
The three kids were obviously too tired to continue rehearsing; it had gotten so warm that they all stripped down to mere boxers, save for young Shuichi, who happened to be wearing a neon orange thong that day to surprise Eiri with later. But he did not remove his jeans, because he was too embarrassed to have his friends and bandmates, manager, and producer all see him in the buff. And as a result, Shuichi perspired more than anyone. Sighing, K pointed at the door, allowing them to leave, because even a tough guy like him was starting to overheat in the hellish studio environment. The group bolted up and ran right out the door in pure excitement...that is when they realized they had forgotten their equipment and hastily returned to retrieve it.
It was cooler outside, and Shuichi threw on his black tanktop on the way home; the shirt was actually Eiri's, but Shuichi really adored it because it seemed to have a powerful sensation of Eiri's own natural aroma on it constantly, and Eiri, tired of constant begging, allowed Shuichi to keep it. It hung off the young boy's shoulders, as it was a size or so too large, but it did not matter to Shuichi - it somehow had a little piece of Eiri in it.
Shuichi sluggishly paced home; though cooler than the studio, outside was rather warm as well. He finally reached the apartment and dragged himself up the stairs, which was practically torture. Opening the door, he dragged his aching, burning feet behind him. With a swipe of his hair, he looked about for Eiri; he immediately spotted the blonde, passed out on the couch. Shuichi noticed the empty cans and bottle laying on the floor and he shook his head in disgust. But one good thing was that Eiri had the air conditioning on all the way, and soon enough, Shuichi became completely energized and was running around like the usual maniac he is.
His shouts of gaiety and loud footsteps roused Eiri from his sleep. He woke up in a very cranky mood, and when he saw Shuichi prancing about the house like a Riverdancer, he screamed in a deep, hoarse tone, "Stop being a fucking retard you brat!"
Shuichi stopped - he had heard Eiri call him a brat many times before, and he had also heard Eiri curse at him, but his voice is what stopped Shuichi cold; never had he heard Eiri sound so angry at him, even when he was drunk. Eiri stared daggers into the pink-haired youth, and Shuichi backed away quietly and timidly, like a puppy that just got kicked. In the process, he bumped into a small table and knocked it over. On top of the table was a tall glass, probably one of Eiri's exotic cocktail glasses. The container shattered loudly, spewing shards all over the floor. Eiri shot up from the couch and stared angrily at Shuichi, who was cowering against the wall. Moments later, Eiri got up shakily from the couch - he was obviously still intoxicated. He approached Shuichi swiftly, yelling at him.
"You stupid brat! Why do you have to ruin everything of mine!"
Shuichi whimpered, "I'm sorry, Yuki! I didn't mean to..."
"That's what you always say, and you always manage to break something else!", Eiri began to advance on Shuichi, eventually backing him up into a wall. In a rage, Eiri grasped Shuichi tightly by his arms and held him still. Shuichi tried to free himself from Eiri's vicegrip, but Eiri only held tighter.
"Yuki, let go! Ouch! Yuki, that hurts!"
Eiri snorted deeply before he looked directly into Shuichi's eyes and growled, "You've ruined my life, you damn brat, and now I'm going to ruin yours..."
With those words, Eiri held Shuichi firmly by one arm and dragged him into his bedroom. He lifted Shuichi clear off the floor by his arm and slammed him down onto the mattress. Within moments, Eiri was on top of Shuichi trying to rip his clothes off. Normally, Shuichi would be savoring every second of this, but Eiri was not trying to pleasure him - he was drunk, and he was angry, and this spelled trouble for Shuichi. Shuichi scrambled, trying to escape, but Eiri grabbed his head and smashed it against the head board of the bed, making Shuichi cry out in pain. Eiri tried to undo Shuichi's jeans, but the boy kept thrashing. Annoyed, Eiri took hold of Shuichi's head again and buried it in the mattress.
"If you want to live to see tomorrow, you'll hold still!"
Shuichi was crying his eyes out, scared to death, "Yuki, stop! You're hurting me!"
"Good", he replied gruffly.
Shuichi was so scared and weak that he had no choice but to hold still. Eiri sighed successfully as he managed to get the tight jeans off. That's when he spotted the bright orange thong. Growling, he violently tore it from Shuichi's hips, making him cry out as he felt the pressure in his groin. Then Shuichi heard Eiri unzipping his own pants and taking a firm hold on his hips. Shuichi desperately began to plead to his lover.
"Yuki, no! Please don't do this! Pl -"
The teenager shrieked in an unearthly tone as Eiri thrust his full length into Shuichi's writhing body. Eiri moaned in total ecstacy as he continued to move. Tears rolled down Shuichi's face; with every plead he made, Eiri pushed harder. He continued to rape Shuichi until a sweet, yet intoxicated orgasm washed over him. When he finally withdrew, blood steadily dripped from Shuichi's aching backside, mixed with Eiri's warm semen. When Eiri left to relax on the couch, Shuichi collapsed to the mattress in a wet mess of blood, semen, and tears, scared to death to even move an inch.
-
Even the beautiful blonde novelist can lose self-control under the influence. I know the story is seeming a bit ambiguous right now, but I assure you, it will hopefully be better in future chapters.
LinZ