A/N: I kind of wonder how many reader (exactly) that I have disappointed on the previous chapter. I have a record of two so far: a new KuroKura friend on FB and a reviewer from the Chinese translation of SD in Lofter website that goes 'No one likes this kind of abuser' (according to Google Translate) *Yeah, I sometimes check out the comments on that website and try to translate them with GT only to comprehend like 60% of them. I can't access the Weibo website because it's inaccessible in my country for some reason*.

Please don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to know that I get to dissatisfy some of you because that's exactly the plan. If you ask me, I don't like that kind of abuser, too. I don't want to get through that hellish writing phase as well for the second time, so please forgive me for this summarize-ish, hurriedly written chapter.

We're getting there, guys. More patience.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HXH.

BETA: None.

Chapter 20: An Occupied Bed.

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The night had gone into a fuzzy blur of things that happened after that first cruel round.

Kurapika somehow lost consciousness after Kuroro removed the thigh cuffs from him. Either the tranquilizer just had that kind of after-effect or Kuroro used nen on him, Kurapika wasn't sure and immediately slipped into a shallow sleep and woke up once or twice due to different reasons.

He was still feeling very groggy when an acrid smell of smoke and something burning assaulted his nose and briefly stirred him awake. The air was hot and as he opened his eyes, he caught a glimpse of a set of curtains that was on fire, thin smoke seeped through the windows and accumulated overhead, and a familiar, cloaked back of someone with black hair. Kurapika heaved a deep breath and Kuroro must have heard him for he turned his head to look.

Their eyes met and there it still was; that empty and haunting hollow in Kuroro's eyes. His mind somehow began to reel with memories which slowly kicked in. Meniandro was dead, he was raped, and they were still inside his mansion— which was now on fire.

So Kuroro was going for an arson to clean the mess up, huh?

The burning smell wafted in the air and had him coughing as he breathed in. His head throbbed, none of his limbs wanted to move, so he didn't bother to try getting up. A part of him didn't want to. He was sweltering from the heat and couldn't breathe. He tore away from Kuroro's gaze and looked up, suddenly having a distant, fleeting memory of the Rukuso Province's state after the Kuruta massacre. He calmed down, mentally wishing for Kuroro to just leave him there and be burned alive. He would like to die with his eyes in their normal state as to not satisfy him. He wondered how much it would hurt. He bet it was nothing compared to the pain his comrades suffered from.

He chose to close his eyes.

The stinging heat he anticipated didn't come.

He slept on with laboured huffs and occasional twists. The terrible slumber was once again interrupted by the feeling of being in a moving vehicle. He squinted his eyes open and saw a ceiling of a car with its light turned off. He inhaled deeply and smelled a faint, sweet smell of air freshner. The air was cold, and it was coming from the AC. He was still alive.

The nightmare wasn't over yet.

He let out a shaky breath. He could now muster some energy to move, but all he managed to do was to lift a hand to bring it to the side of his forehead, groan and go to sleep again. Kuroro granted him some short breaks for they surely had a long night ahead. Might as well grab it and hope that he could at least stand and walk on his own once this hell ended.

He was woken by the feeling of being stripped of his pants on the third time he was dragged from his sleep. Somehow, his mind was a bit clearer and the urge to just fall back to sleep had subsided, so he instantly understood the new situation he was in.

Kuroro was on top of him again as he laid on a bed, peeling away his trousers. He easily recognized the place as Kuroro's condo unit, inside the bedroom. The main lights were out and only a single dim light on the wall was on. Kuroro wasn't wearing anything but his boxers while busily removing his. His hands weren't in a hurry unlike earlier, maybe, because Kurapika wasn't resisting and honestly, he didn't give a damn anymore.

He gave him a vacant look, turned away and closed his eyes.

As if Kuroro would do him just once, not after that trouble and effort he went through to accomplish his request. And he had the right; he was entitled to do anything to him for a night. The aphrodisiac was still on his system, more or less, just that he was groggy and he climaxed twice so it wasn't that overpowering, but it was still there. He could tell Kuroro could make him come by force for about one or two more times. Let Kuroro finish it however he liked.

In an apparent attempt to arouse him, he felt Kuroro hovered above and closed in to lap at his exposed collarbone. It didn't, not the desire to be touched at least. He had the nagging, blunt pain on his crotch but that was the aphrodisiac's doing.

Kuroro licked him some more, but it wasn't working. He just laid there, just looking sidelong aimlessly, feeling Kuroro's tongue all over him but still not feeling anything.

He dreaded Kuroro would be pissed off and get violent again, but he didn't. He just turned Kurapika over and parted his legs. Kurapika let him.

Still loose after the first intrusions, Kuroro didn't bother to prepare him and just thrust in, making Kurapika lowly grunt. He felt one hand clutching at his shoulder and another over his waist. He thrust in and out without warning. It hurt as it was dry and Kurapika just pulled at the covers and holding back grunts— not moans, because he didn't feel good even just one bit— and just let Kuroro do what he wanted.

Kuroro amped up his thrusts but he hadn't felt him come yet. He was taking time. Kurapika let him.

It was weird but Kurapika was becoming sleepy again despite the pain and Kuroro pounding on him from behind. He couldn't sleep because of the movement as he was being rammed up and down.

They were both... silent. No snide comments and teasing, no repressed moans and explicit growls. If he were to describe this session, it would be... boring. Kuroro just wanted his pay for tonight thus he kept doing it. He could also tell that he was just acting under the aphrodisiac's effect.

It went on and on and on. Kurapika lost count of how many times Kuroro flipped him over and moved their position. He came once or twice, until Kurapika fainted completely and not be rudely woken up again by roving hands or violating thrusts. Stress, pain, sleepiness and exhaustion came down altogether, and his body gave in to his much needed rest. His sleep was strangely deep that he thought and hoped he wouldn't wake up ever again.

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Unfortunately, the abuse Kuroro subjected him into wasn't enough to kill him, but only brought on more aching muscles and a painstaking need to drink water.

Kurapika once again woken up in the middle of the night with his throat dry and screaming for something to drink. He felt sticky all over after his excessive sweating. He wanted to take a shower and had to pee but judging how much pain he was feeling right now, all joints hefty and head a bit hazy, he wondered if he could even crawl his way to the bathroom.

But he had to.

He wasn't sure what time it was already, even oblivious of how many hours had passed, but he guessed it was already around three or four midnight. Kurapika stared at the ceiling and took in his surroundings: he was still lying on the bed inside Kuroro's room, without any clothes on, and covered by a blanket up to his shoulders. The room was dim lit and he could hear the low rumbling of the AC. He blinked, then garnered the courage to look at his side and saw Kuroro with his bare back on him, sleeping on the edge of the bed. They were sharing the same blanket and both naked. The distance between them was remarkable.

There were things that quickly crossed Kurapika's mind, like the implications that some people died under his command, that he was tormented and gone through hell hours ago and they weren't a merely bad— terrifying dream, but indeed happened, and that it was finally over. But as odd as it was, Kurapika shamefully skipped the denial phase and thought of something so trivial and very unnecessary for this was the first time it ever happened.

He couldn't help but realize. This was the first time he woke up with Kuroro next to him on the bed.

He didn't know about their first night, but in all that sessions they had in the past, it was either him or Kuroro who would leave right after the sex. Kurapika always woke up in an empty bed, and one time he left Kuroro on his own as he fell asleep. That wasn't something he should be surprised about; it was a plain short time of releasing carnal drive and there wasn't anything in it after. He hated Kuroro, and Kuroro didn't care about him after getting what he wanted. And it worked out just fine. That safe distance between them was what making this crazy exchanges work out.

As he blankly bored his stare towards Kuroro's back, he silently sighed before tearing away his gaze from him. He wished Kuroro had left, just like what he always did. That way, he could at least hold onto the walls on his way to the bathroom without suffering some more humiliation in case Kuroro woke up and caught him doing so. He wished he just left him alone so he could put his clothes back while whimpering and pulling a brave face. He wished he just left. Hadn't he had enough watching him struggling like a wounded wolf after a bloody battle?

Kurapika guessed he could never find out the true extent of his perverted love of seeing others in despair. And that he just had to deal with it.

And deal with it, Kurapika did. He'd rather crawl in silence to the bathroom than to make a mess on the bed. Perhaps Kuroro was tired enough to be in a deep sleep and not to be woken up by movements around him. He hoped he was.

Very carefully, he removed the blanket off of him and slowly sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the heaviness of his limbs and the numbing sensation on his feet. He thought he could maybe walk slowly, perhaps he could even if he had to take small steps, so he pressed his bare feet to the cold, tiled floor before pushing himself up from the bed—

—Only to lose balance and fall on his knees.

Kurapika held back a groan that almost escaped from his mouth when pain shot through his bones. Damn it, his hand absently clutched at the blanket at the fall and that must have pulled it from the bastard. Kuroro must have woken up. Idiot, Kurapika vehemently cursed himself in mind. Goddamnit.

He could do this, Kurapika convinced himself one more time. Who cared if he woke up? He wanted to get the blanket anyway so he could cover himself up. He didn't dare to look up and check if Kuroro indeed had stirred awake and stared determinedly at the floor before planting his hand on the tile to try and get up... when a hand with its palm open being offered to him caught his eyes.

Kurapika stilled, then white hot rage slithered through him. Moments ago that hand molested and maltreated him, then later it was being offered for help. What a ludicrous hypocrite. Without looking up, he swatted the hand away with a passion.

"Leave me alone," he spat in a hoarse voice.

"Let me help you."

"Fuck off."

"The deal is still in effect. Do as I say."

"Die and leave me alone," Kurapika repeated before attempting to stand again but his legs both gave away and he winced in pain.

"Fine," he heard Kuroro said before an arm slipped under his armpit and it wrapped around his torso. The other arm swiftly slid at the back of his knees and put his legs together. As easy as that, Kuroro cleanly managed to lift him from the ground and carry him against his will.

Kurapika looked away. "Put me down."

The words fell on deaf ears, as always. Kuroro walked to the bathroom with him on his arms, Kurapika wanted to resist and squirm away but he just had not enough energy to move his hands and slap his face. A part of him was even relieved that he didn't need to test his legs again anymore, knowing that they were both currently useless. That he was tired. That he really couldn't do it, and he could now stop fooling himself.

Kuroro brought him to the shower without saying another word. He turned the light on, toed the small stool near the detachable showerhead and the soaps, carefully put Kurapika down on it and turned the shower knob before stepping away and leaving the bathroom, closing the door on his way out.

Warm water drizzled down from the shower head, but Kurapika didn't immediately reach for it. He huddled, breathed in, buried his face in his knees and closed his eyes.

Kuroro had done him really too much tonight. He was in pain all over, with the memories of their first night flashing back to him with how similar this scene was compared to that hellish nightmare. His old yet still fresh wounds were sliced open again, and with his newly sustained cuts from disgrace and how much he was reduced to such weakened state, the pain and hurt seared and stung throughout his being, leaving him a different sense of emptiness and rage that usually consumed him when dealing with Ryodan. It was different compared to that hate he always accommodated when facing Kuroro. And he was well aware of that substantial difference.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but this night made Kurapika harbour a new feeling towards Kuroro other than bottomless loathing: it was fear.

Sure, Kurapika was intimidated of Kuroro's abilities but not to the point that he would cower in fright and hesitate to fight back. He would stop to think, but not to run away. But this time, it was very different. Kuroro's behaviour imbued him a sense of fear that made him doubt himself, made him realize how much he lacked and his incompetence. To be filled with self doubt and be swallowed by his own weaknesses in front of death was a bigger adversary than to face the seemingly undefeatable opponent fearing defeat but still willing to step forward. If Kuroro's intention was to throttle his soul using the whole ordeal so he could dampen his self-confidence and courage to face him head-on, then Kurapika had to admit that he had successfully pulled it off somehow. Kurapika was smart enough, and he knew, after this night, that he didn't stand a chance against the man for now. And if when was the right time he was strong enough to take him on, or if there would be such time at all, he couldn't tell anymore.

Kurapika grabbed the shower head and wetted his face first up to his hair. It was a total defeat. It was a miracle, really, that he got to make it out alive. Wallowing in his self pity would be just wasting time, and it was idiotic of him to let Kuroro bask in his glory even in his mind. First things first; he had to get the hell out of here. Away from this place and away from Kuroro.

Pushing everything at the back of his mind, he washed himself thoroughly, tears surprisingly absent. When finished, he tried to conjure his chain in hope to heal his wounds; he couldn't go back to Dmitri's place all beaten up and limping.

And maybe with the help of the bath and few hours of sleep, his chains didn't let him down and his remaining energy turned out to be enough to alleviate most of bruises and aching joints on his stomach and limbs, even the swelling of his cheek and the corner of his lips when Kuroro slapped him. Soon after they healed, the chain vanished. It was all it could do for now.

Unlike earlier, he could now stand safely albeit still weakly. He padded to the sink and sipped some tap water from the faucet to quench his thirst, seeing his pathetic reflection on the mirror as he did so. He looked like a weary monster in a human's clothing, or lack thereof. Nothing new.

Kurapika somehow could tell that Kuroro had left, not because of his missing aura but judging by his character. Perhaps he just stayed to see if Kurapika was gritty enough to remain alive and sane after what he did and once verified, he would leave without a care.

And he wasn't wrong.

It was just the empty room but with a decent change of clothes laid on the bed. As Kurapika stepped out of the shower, he sighed in relief and eyed the prepared set of suit, shirt and pants that looked exactly the same as that Kuroro had torn apart earlier. So it was all planned, after all.

Kurapika was in no place to refuse the offered clothes, it would be suspicious to go back to Dmitri still in his ruined garments on the same time when fire had spread all over Meniandro's manor. Surely, the fire must have been found and put out, if lucky, by now. He had to avoid being suspected to be related to the incident thus he had to look pristine and neat. Kuroro was considerate enough to safeguard his phone. It was the only good thing that he did for him tonight that Kurapika could think of.

Feeling like he was an entirely different person in a bad way now, Kurapika left the condo at once.