Wounds
Part Six

Both of us sit here in silence. What just took place is slowly fading out of prominence and I'm waiting out for the moment where one of us will react first. I suspect it will be him, because I'm feeling this sick pulling in my gut and it's holding me back from being the one to step forward. It's a combination of guilt and satisfaction that make me feel like a really horrible person.

The worst part is that I have yet to stop letting my mind recall the immediate events and just how my body reacted. I have to stare at the floor from where I am-sitting on the edge of the bed. If I look at him, all I will see is that body giving me pleasure that I really didn't want to feel. Shaking my head, I cradle my face against my hand-trying to figure out how to smooth this restless feeling out.

Behind me, Kanda's taken to leaning up against the wall and his arms are curled around his drawn up legs-as if he's trying to make himself smaller. This is the first time I've seen him this withdrawn. I've seen him angry and bitter, and I've also witnessed the strange delusional high that he loses himself to when he's particularly self loathing. But this time, he's neither. There's no snap that he usually has and there's no amused condescension. It's this that has me feeling as distraught as I do.

"I'm sorry," I blurt when the silence becomes too much.

This is not what he wants to hear and he hisses lowly at me, "No, you're fucking not. Did it feel good, Beansprout?"

I hate the way my brain is making me feel two ways about this; because I can't deny the raw pleasure, but the guilt is like a noose and I'm pulling against it. I give him the only answer that I feel would hit him hardest. "Fantastic, Kanda. You're actually stimulatingly tight for someone who fancies himself as a whore."

"Fuck you!" He grits his teeth and he sounds like he wants me to drown; but at the same time, he sounds like he's in a tempest of confused and panicky emotions—a direct result of me forcing him into a release he obviously didn't want. "You got what you wanted. Like anyone else. Now get out."

"Got what I wanted?" I look up, gazing around a dark room before I turn and let my eyes fall over the man that's very dimly illuminated by scarce light. "If I'd gotten what I wanted then you wouldn't already be thinking about the next man you'll let use and discard you."

"What does it matter to you?"

Cold and dispassionate, he is, and it frustrates me again. I'd taunted him with that one question he never answered-no matter how many times I'd threatened and hurt him to do it. I'd physically abused him and forced the reality of how much he didn't want it on him. I made him confront how much he hated what he was doing and yet he still appears to be slipping back into the thought process before-just shaken and angry.

"I want you to answer me. Do you want this? Do you like this? Is this the life of human contact you want?"

The bed moves and I don't even bother to respond-even as his arms curl around my neck and pull me back forcefully. I can feel the distraught tension in Kanda's grip and there's a pride I have in making him scattered like this. "You have no right to disrupt my life, you little piece of shit. I do what I want. Do you think flapping your mouth while you fuck me is going to change anything. What? Are you going to fight off every man that comes to my room? Are you going to make me your concubine and fuck me in place of all these people? Are you that committed, Beansprout? You want your fucking answer but there's no good in having it if you can't act."

"You said that to me once, Kanda," I choke slightly and breathe with a heavy inhale, "and I ended up plowing you-face down on the bed. If you think I'm going to give it up this early, then you're wrong and you may as well put my name on your schedule."

"Little…piece of shit…How dare y—."

I don't care for more of his anger and name calling and his grip is really weak due to his shaky state, so I easily flip him off me; taking little to no care that I've catapulted the man right off the bed. I simply look down at him, watching him scramble to pick himself up. "I hope you enjoyed your time with me, Kanda. It'll be a frequent thing."

He just gives me the darkest, meanest and possibly most shaken look he can give me before I decide to stand and collect my bearings to leave. I leave slowly, taking my pace carefully so he can't see just how shaken I am as well.

To Be Continued...

A/N: this story, and its two sequels are complete. Once I've gotten my art and writing commissions out of the way, I will return to other things while I edit this thing.