The Art of Origami
Akito:
You can smell the sunlight on dirt, that hot earthy smell that invades your senses and lulls you into a heat-induced sleep on a warm summer day. You know that death is creeping up on you as sly and slow as the lengthening shadows the sun throws and lets sparkle in your tearing eyes. The spicy smell of evening air seems to thicken in your trachea, on its way down to burn your lungs with its molten kiss. Your body is weakening more rapidly with the falling sun and you wait in fear for the dark abandon of night. But there are few hours between you and infinite blackness and one part of your body beckons you, tempting you with the knowledge that, of your whole frail being, it alone is youthful and and hard and craving release. You know you will have time before the end; you know what it is you need right now…
He is like the moon that peaks into the evening sky; the sun's wavering rays mask his midnight radiance. Can you bear it any longer? Not being inside him; not having his blood on your fingertips, his sweat on your tongue, his warm seed, that always tasted like spring, melting away the glacier of your frigid body. However youthfully plentiful that viscous ambrosia was, you made it impotent long ago; by fire and steel and reveling in the tortured moans of the writhing little silver-haired one beneath you. With a solid stroke of hand and blade, you stole from him his potency and how rapturous it was to see the terror in those lavender eyes each time you smiled at his angst-filled face. And now the thorned rope is wound around your skull, awaiting the twisting of the rope to drive the hateful spikes into the grey mass of your brain, full of electricity and imagined passion. The time must be now.
Yuki Sohma's icy eyes widened as he stepped out into the cooling evening air, the heat of the day slowly absorbed into earth and stone and all the world breathed a sigh of relief. Something was happening tonight; some unseen, unspoken menace haunted the woods this night. Inky-eyed Shigure had sent him to investigate the broken, painful howl of a stray dog in the woods. But Yuki had seen the remorse in his cousin's eyes; he felt the pang of regret pass through the inu. Even his fiery-eyed feline nemesis looked as though he'd been dealt a blow to the stomach when he saw Yuki leave the house. Only Tohru remained oblivious. The darkened branches of trees reached for him, to snare him in their biting embrace and rip at his ivory skin. He heard the mournful howl again, but this time it came from the now canine mouth of Shigure Sohma, a lament for the loss of something precious. As he turned back to the house, Yuki felt cold fingers running sharp nails down his back. Another hand snaked around his waist and held him in spite of his struggling to free himself. Akito's all too human teeth dug into the flesh of his shoulder, his moist lips closing over the bite to suck at the soft flesh, as the thin cotton of his shirt pooled around his ankles.
"No," he pleaded, his young voice cracking even as the fire flooded the secret, brutalized parts of him, as his pants were unceremoniously pulled down to join his shirt.
Akito:
Night envelopes Yuki's nude figure and your hands find his solid member, warm and pulsing and betraying his own unwilling desire for you. He is your paper crane, to bend and rip in any way you choose, your small folded bird to bloody with his own hemorrhaging lust. You push your pelvis into him, making him groan with want and denial. Yes, he is kindling to spark with the length of your cock and the pain your nails and teeth can induce. His tears are hot and wet on your fingers clamped over his mouth and nose, absorbing his screams and sobs. Yuki begins to choke without air to breathe.
You smile your predatory smile, "You can breathe when you moan for me, when you tell me what you want me to do to you." You know he will speak, you grasp the throbbing heat of him, wanting, needing to come. His thin frame shakes with want of air and you feel the vibrations of his speech against your palm. You release him and flick your tongue against his neck as you speak, "Say it again, precious."
Yuki's face is soaked with tears and his trembling body seems to collapse in on itself. "I want…"
"Yes?" you know that when he says it it will take every last ounce of strength from your weakening body to stop the swiftly building orgasm. Not yet.
"I want you to…" Yuki was broken, "fuck me…"
A tremor goes through your own body and you turn him to face you and push him to the ground, grinning broadly at his slightly deformed groin. The young boy's long, slender organ is erect and unscarred, but it is your own that will be satisfied tonight. You drop to your knees between his shaking legs and rub the scarred flesh where his testicles used to be, this produces a whimper that tickles your ears and laughter erupts from your throat. You push his legs back until they drape across your shoulders and the head of your cock, slick and pulsing, gently brushes the sensitive skin, dry and unprepared for the oncoming assault.
Another solid stroke, much the same as the last time, and a scream tore from Yuki, a pitiful scream full of pain but much more of shame. With this your body flushes with pleasure, the sun hovers just above the brink. You drive forward with all your might and the knot twists. With each thrust into the unprepared, unwilling heat of Yuki's pliable body, the knot tightens, like a chain tying your soul to the throbbing pleasure of it all. Your moans are deep-throated and feral now: animalistic moans. This is your curse, this carnal, inhuman hunger. Just as this pale creature beneath you transforms, you become just as much a beast. The loudest of your moans bursts as hot fluid deep inside of Yuki as the boy faints on the forest floor. The sun has set, the birds are silent now… and so are you.