Midnight Screams, Blood and Silk
A/N: I'll just warn you that this is really imaginative and different. So is the ending. I wrote this as I'm going through some issues, which should not have come to pass, but it did. And I hope you forgive me.
Crimson Cousin, it's a little sad, so please forgive me! Aah!!
Because of, I guess, lemon-stuff, it's a little exotic, but is my first and last, and if you don't like that stuff, either don't read or skip Shuichi's POV.
Disclaimer: Wasn't mine before, isn't mine now, won't be mine after. Only the plot is.
3rd Craving-Porcelain Dolls of the Night
Shuichi's POV
How much time has passed?
I feel like this assault is as close to ending as eternity. Laying on my stomach, the silk cutting into my wrists as I am stretched out along the bed, I bite deep into the covers to keep from screaming my lungs out each time the leather bites into my flesh, the warmth of my own life essence seeping from the multiple gashes that are beginning to cover my back.
After every five thrashes, he climbed on top of me, following the trickles of blood across my skin with his hot tongue, breathing like a demon ready to unleash. He caressed my wounds as if trying to heal them, loving to press in deeper every time I moan, just for more blood to ooze. And if I keep silent, he'll lay across me, feeling every inch of me with his long fingers, tasting every part of me, moving like you would with a lover. But I am not his lover.
I feel like I will be torn in two if this continues.
'This is how to sheath a sword properly' he had whispered into my ear so long ago, stroking my hair back from my damp skin. The whipping had still been new to me, and I had no idea what he had planned to do to me.
'Please,' I begged him between sobs, 'please let me go'. He turned my face towards his blood-smeared own, a pained expression on it, his eyes holding true sadness. But that was only for that rare, unmasked moment, because that knowing smile crept across his face again, and he shook his head as if regretting his next step already.
I have been sweating and crying and screaming for what seems ageless, as if time itself had stopped just so I could feel every lash of his whip cut deep into me, every inch of his length be mercilessly rammed into me. Thank god I don't sleep in a sitting position.
This so-called sheathing of him into my small being is like sheathing a claymore into the leather holster of a dagger if not a kitchen knife. Every time his slick length slowly moved into me, it seemed like a fire had been released behind my eyelids. And after the first pain, it got worse as the smoothness wore off him, as he continuously raged through each resistance of mine, lifting me up physically as he grew persistent, dropping me mentally into the well of shattered glass and broken wings. His warm silk flooded through me as if trying to replace my blood, filling me until I felt the need to heave, hunger having no meaning left.
Every time it felt like I was torn open a little more, like the leather holster being cut on the sides as the blade shoves itself in and then will have to be sewn closed over and over again. But it will always remain too tight for such a giant blade, and will eventually tear again. And after a while it will become impossible to repair.
The only difference is leather can be mended and has a second chance to be like before.
I can't.
'You should be grateful,' he murmured into my shoulder, shifting to reach tears that trailed along my jaw. 'I could have just let you experience without any kind of warning, but I sleeked my edges so as not to brake you.' He caressed my arm, reached under to my chest, lower. 'You are a delicate glass case, a rare porcelain doll, a sheath that's one of a kind and made only for me.'
If I was made for you, then why don't you fit? Why have I been fractured into numerous pieces as my mind slowly falls into the black depth that seems like my only hope? My last option to be from you?
But most of all, why do I want to be chained to you?
End POV
Sunday
The silky white sheets were stained dark red, barely outlining the silhouette of Shuichi.
Yuki had untied him, wrapping him up in the sheet, he himself covered in Shuichi's blood. As he looked at Shuichi's trembling body, his eyes the dark crimson hue, he gathered him into his arms, rocking back and forth, his lips whispering gentle words into his matted pink hair.
Shuichi had lost consciousness, long ago having dropped into a pool of ebbing darkness, though he still breathed.
Yuki rested himself against the bloodied pillows, Shuichi's terrified and pained screams echoing through his mind, a part of him feeling satisfied and smiling grimly. But his human was disgusted, sickened. This was sick. And it was wrong.
But he couldn't care less.
The fear had overwhelmed Shuichi, but he was the one. If Yuki had been more gentle, then maybe Shuichi would have noticed it as well, but for the time being, he would let him rest, because in that moment, he knew for sure that Shuichi was Yuki's world.
Just like the fortune cookie had said.
Shuichi woke up to feel warm, cozy, the night air smelling deliciously crisp mingling with the autumn breeze, moonlight spilling across his face.
He had slept dreamlessly, only remembering his hunger and the satiating bittersweet coppery blood. It took him some few moments to notice he was sheltered in arms, arms that cradled him like a mother would her child. Shuichi was wrapped in Yuki's arms.
"Are you finally awake?" Yuki asked, holding him closer as they lay together under the sheets.
Bloodstained sheets. His blood.
Like a tidal wave, memories flooded into his mind, his senses, causing him to remember every whiplash, every lung-shattering scream, every soul-rupturing violation.
And his blood.
Before Shuichi could try and gather enough strength to free himself, Yuki bent his head and softly kissed him, his lips feeling gentle, welcoming. "I'm sorry," he said breathlessly, "I didn't want to wait any longer, didn't want to be drowned in empty disappointment. But I'm so sorry."
Shuichi looked into his violet-blue eyes, bloody tears seeping from them. He wasn't human.
"I . . ." he couldn't truly comprehend what was going on. He should be blood-drained if not dead, yet he had no true hunger, his body did not shriek in pain, he was still sane.
"I am a hybrid as well," he admitted, slowly running his hand up and down Shuichi's spine, "but slightly different."
Shuichi shivered, not able to resist leaning in closer, snuggling himself against Yuki. "I don't understand." He reached up a hand to touch the tear on his cheek, wiping it away with his thumb to taste his blood once again. It was heaven.
Yuki sighed, his body sheltering the smaller lad's. "I am vampire," he began, his voice sounding like antique satin, "but I am not that of a normal kind. I carry the disease of the incubi, feeding off the heated adrenaline brought by passion. It matters not if it's in a fight, or if sleeping with them, for either contains that undeniable longing for a specific something that causes ecstasy. And that's why you."
"What do you mean, why me?" Shuichi asked, his eyes shifting from a blackened scarlet to a lightened ruby. "And how could you be incubi?"
He shook his head, closing his eyes to keep his thoughts in order. "To explain the latter, it is just a genetic deficiency in some undead, more likely to appear in those that have an uncontrollable urge to pounce on the living and drain them dry while experiencing a momentary fulfillment when they sleep with someone.
"But they can find those, sometimes among the living or the undead, that can give them absolute fulfillment, or a soul release. They needn't have that longing to be in their pants twenty-four seven," he suggestively let his hand linger on Shuichi's arse, "but they will respond just as eagerly. And then there are those that can't help but make a bit of a mess. Didn't you wonder why the last vampire you killed always had a girls' head on his length?"
Shuichi involuntarily shuddered with the memory, then the previous night's memory made him heave, only to have nothing come up but some spit. "That Tatsuha was a sick bastard," he said, trembling with the effort of keeping his stomach intact. "Is that why he did that whole head-twisting thing? Is because he got his kicks out of it?"
Yuki nodded, then added as though an afterthought, "I had tried to warn him that sooner or later a hunter would catch him off guard and finish him off, and he just laughed and said he hoped it would be someone he had already slept with. He made me swear that if it was someone he knew, I should make him or her my new sex slave. It would have been my responsibility to avenge his death as an older brother, but the fortune cookie told me that 'The blood's end would be my new beginning.' I could only figure it as maybe one of his sluts, so I-"
Shuichi used his free hand to cover Yuki's mouth for him to try and process the information that had just passed. Yuki gave it time to sink in, then got tired of his mouth being covered and let his tongue taste his young life's hand.
Shuichi's body tense, he could only do so much as to jerk his hand away and stare at Yuki in dismay. "He was you're brother?" And the thing that saved him was a fortune cookie?
"Doesn't that explain that little streak of sadistic that runs through me? I'm not as bad as he is because I'm half-human as well. He was pure undead and among the worst known. He's also the one who owned that night club where I first met you at, that's why I was so surprised to see you walk out of the alley with his scent clinging to you. And it's true that you're young, because you have the gait of 18th or 19th century. But he and I are from the 16th." When Shuichi didn't respond, Yuki moved his hands around to the front and scraped his nails gently across him.
Shuichi arched into him, surprising them both, then his senses telling him to get away as fast as possible. The only thing once again between him and the night was Yuki. "That still doesn't explain my part," he begged, his mind commanding him to leave but his body wanting to stay in Yuki's arms. He truly was torn in two.
"Haven't you figured it out?" Yuki asked in slight disbelief, grabbing Shuichi's shoulders to keep him from struggling and forcing to see him, "you are what gives me fulfillment. You brought me my soul release." His blue eyes seemed to go a deep purple, "I know my methods of finding tranquility were somewhat extreme," he said delicately, "and maybe it's because you are a half-breed as I that I let myself go, but it doesn't matter. I have found what I have been looking for and not even forty well-experienced night-clubs could give me more than what you've done. I want you to be mine, and I want to bury myself deep within you."
Shuichi struggled for air, his body shaking, his eyes hidden as he held his head down. With unexpected strength he freed himself of Yuki's grasp, shoving with all his will against him to land sprawled on his back on the carpet.
"Shuichi!" Yuki called, easily sliding over to the other side of the bed and kneel next to him.
Shuichi wouldn't look at him, keeping his eyes well hidden under his long cerise hair. His whole being was shaking, from what Yuki could not know.
"Shuichi, are you all right?"
Shuichi rubbed along his arms, sitting up and feeling his back, every scar, every deep cut wound that slowly began to heal with new tissue, a gift of being immortal, scars don't last. "My misery, my suffering and torment, both physically and mentally, all for one damn release?" he hissed, both his nails and incisors lengthening to their fullest. "Just so you could get a thrill off my pain?"
Shuichi wanted to dig his now claws into Yuki's skin, have his teeth puncture his neck and drink to his heart's desire, he wanted to have the power over him, he wanted to do with him as he pleased, begging or bleeding.
"You're starting to think just like me, and that after one night." Yuki smirked at him, knocking him on his back and pinning him down once more. "Are you sure you're up for another lesson?"
That sentence made Shuichi snap back to normal, his momentary longing for overpowering him evaporated as the dark wings stirred inside him again. He found it hard to breathe, the air heavy, suffocating.
Yuki ran his tongue along his lower lip, tracing it with his finger and slowly moved against him once again.
"Stop!" Shuichi cried in denial, his body eagerly shifting but his mind refusing. "You said only one night," he swallowed, feeling like he could drown in those eyes, that they could capture his soul and never give it back, "that one night has lasted over three nights, so I've held my end! Now let me go!"
Yuki went still, not breathing, only staring at Shuichi. His expression nearly broke Shuichi's heart, but only nearly. Once Yuki looked away, his tone became hard, leaving no room for arguments.
"I never said that I would let you go."
"What the hell?" Shuichi asked in frustration, not believing his ears, "you said that if I didn't come, you would turn me into your sex slave anyway! So why won't you let me go?"
"I already told you that you are what I have been looking for." His gentle hands took on the firm immobile muscles from last night, the softness that ached, luring to the death. "I swore that if I ever found the person, I would never let them go. Even if it meant having to put my control over them, turning them into a mindless doll. That's why I told you to come, to make sure you weren't it, but yet you are. You actually didn't come in time, so I should have turned you into my toy, but I wanted you to be yourself, I wanted you to keep your soul. And now you wish to leave," once he looked back, his eyes had taken on complete black, the blue iris barely visible, "but I cannot allow that."
Shuichi didn't have the strength needed to fight him off, but he didn't succumb willingly for what dignity held. Yuki had grabbed a fistful of hair, lengthening his teeth and biting deep into the soft skin, drinking in gulps.
Shuichi's energy slowly diminished, like a candle in the wind, it finally faded. His slightly reddened face took on a sickly ghost paleness, his eyes vermilion but distant, his mouth frozen from where he would have screamed.
Yuki had his blood running down his chin, his throat, all along his chest. Shuichi moved towards him to lap it from him, but Yuki still had a grasp on his hair, and pushed his head down onto the carpet.
"Where do you think you're going?" he whispered, suppressed anger making his voice shake. "You said you didn't want me, yet now where I have your blood, you stumble over yourself to reach me?" It shattered his heart to have done this to him, to truly have made him the most precious porcelain doll there is. Tears ran down his face and he let Shuichi's hair go, sliding back to lean against the foot of the bed.
"You are the most disgusting thing in my world," he muttered, holding his own head in his hands, leaning back so not to look upon Shuichi's limp form. 'But you are also the most beautiful and purest in mine.'
"My devilish hunter."
Shuichi's POV
I have lost myself.
Somewhere in his Prussian eyes, my soul wanders steadily, looking for a way out. An escape to reach my body again. But each day, it seems I search in vain.
Every night, I hear his footsteps, see myself looking out of his eyes, trying to get back to me, screaming for me to release myself, but only for a moment before he takes over. Sometimes he comes in with the silk cord, waving it in my face as if hoping for a reaction, but all I can manage is to look up at him and whisper his name. Sometimes he'll call me and I can't do much to resist except run to him, smiling at being wanted.
He brings home girls I don't know and plays around with them, but as soon as they leave he comes for me. Always comes back to me.
I am chained to you, but that's the way I want it to be. I want you to fill me, to bring the grief in my life. With each stroke of pain I want to shudder with delight.
I want to be yours alone, even if I was to pass away. And if you wish kill me, then devour my body so that I will always be part of you. Eat my flesh and blood, lick my bones clean, because then I'll be a part of you, become your flesh and blood, and I will forever remain yours.
I watch midnight come and go, but I'm not leaving for anywhere.
I carry the world on my shoulders.
Fin
A/N: Go on, bombard me with flamers! I know you want to, because I would want to as well! But I re-wrote it, so be glad for that! Originally Shuichi killed Yuki, but preserved his body and slept with that. Slept, not played with it; his remains became his teddy bear until it faded into ashes. And I promise that I will NEVER write a story like this again, so don't worry and PLEASE don't be absolutely disgusted with me. I'm just having a couple of issues at the moment. I think I'll try a comedy now.
Sorry.
And if you have song-suggestions for 'I will wait for you', then throw 'em at me.
C.S.