the bonds that bind us
disclaimer: KuroBasu isn't mine
warnings: boy/boy yaoi or...i guess you could call it masturbation since it's technically the same person (but separate entities so call it whatever you want). if it is masturbation, i think it would be the best type of it anyway xD spoilers (at least i think so? this hovers over the past days of the GoM, when they're about to split up. i'm not sure where the anime's up to)
a/n: i just wanted to write something pretty (pretty disturbing) (though if Akashi's involved, it's a 'pretty' all-rounder anyway) (dang what a pretty guy)
Drip...drip...drip...drip...
"Would you stop that?" Akashi snapped in mild irritation.
Drip...drip...drip...
"...Stop what?"
In the distance his view was focused on nothing but that shadowy silhouette that enhanced the light behind him. All he ever saw was a glint of familiar red should the figure decide to flinch slightly. That always made him feel anxious; not easy, but something approaching it. From the first time it released a noise and moved, the Teikou captain could deduct that it harboured a human body. After the light came, the shadow confirmed his theory. From the way it moved only barely and how it held its weight to one side; the form was suffering through an unrelenting sense of impatience, therefore shifting from side to side.
"..."
'Stop that infuriating water dripping noise', he wanted to answer. Instead, his lips were tightly shut. Instead, he asked:
"Would you mind if I called you shadow?"
Drip...drip...
"...Why that name specifically? There is a prominent contrast between Tetsuya and I." Of course the shadowy figure would dig the reference back to the phantom player. Notes disassembled in the coarse atmosphere, and Akashi was sure that this shadow guy could hear them too. Background melodies were two blades tickling an innocent white template.
Notes like: shadow doesn't stage any distaste while mentioning Tetsuya; must harbour at least a pinch of respect for him. Others like: that voice is mine. Those verbal pitches are mine.
There was that hesitant note and minor pause whenever 'shadow' would reply to his questions. Shadow addressed Akashi's team-mates the way that he, himself addressed them. Seijuro knew that. He was far from stupid. The tone held a strong sense of defiance, dominance and authority. Yet it couldn't be himself, could it? That would not make sense at all.
"-I'm not you." Shadow says. "Call me Emperor."
"You can read my mind." It wasn't a question, it was an assertion.
"Seijuro, this is your mind. I simply pluck through the threads of thoughts that are swarming around me like bees."
Emperor's statement confirmed his earlier belief.
"This is an invasion of privacy." Akashi adds solemnly.
The captain's new mentally bonded captain released a small exhale of amusement, almost a snort. "Hardly."
"Why are you in my mind?"
"I assure you, Akashi Seijuro, you are not delusional."
"Again with the thought-plucking, I see."
The Akashi heir knew he was somewhat unique. No, in comparison to nameless others, the gap was so brilliant that they could only ever dream of reaching it. They grey in colour when they bask in the presence of Akashi Seijuro. He knows this. His father knows this. The Generation of Miracles know this. And Emperor; what of him? An enigma of all sorts. Having said that, rather than a figment of imagination, Akashi felt as if it was...a part of him. A different being altogether, living in his conscious—not as a fly on the wall, no. Not a leech of some parasite. Not an imaginary friend. Perhaps it was something along the lines of two spirits joining together to form one foetus, because the boy definitely didn't feel it was safe to breathe unless he confirmed Emperor's presence.
"Who are you?"
"Address me as Emperor for now."
"What are you?"
"Absolute."
"Pardon?"
"I am absolute."
After those words and every single encounter, all the conversation Akashi could recall were reduced into faint murmurings that singed a tiny bit should he choose to edge closer. The first word you connect with when having heard the title 'Emperor', what was it? Out of sheer curiosity, Akashi had surveyed one of his many colleagues.
Tetsuya replied with 'China.'
Which was an understandable answer. Incidentally, when he received it, it sent a chill down his spine. A sensation of foreboding thrill. The captain can follow through the lines of Kuroko's thinking, of course. When under the context of Akashi himself, the answer will never be Japan but China. However dominant and overpowering the past Japanese Emperors may be, the Chinese Emperor will always steal the glory. Why?
The boy always thought in different senses: Japanese Emperors can roughly translate to popes. And Chinese Emperors can roughly translate to Kings.
There was no halo that encircled Akashi's person. If he were to describe it, he would have used one word. King, indeed. The objective that bargained fiery crimson tendrils for a crown. He recognizes that the international colour for royalty was purple. But purple was Murasakibara and he wasn't a part of this.
Dynasties.
An Emperor of China's attire, however, was a silky feeling of cloth that encircled the entire kingdom. A cloth that was none less than thickened gold and trimmings of blood red that streamed down from the Godhead. It was the hue that beckoned the tangents of royalty. A particular flower that grieved, stung with thorns and displayed its elegance. The existing imagery of a primordial ruby. The tardy infants that fought for the blue while carelessly nudging aside the latter red. In the end, they'll be covered in a beautiful shade of red anyway—seeping through their wounds and under their dirty fingernails in hot ooze.
"I don't wanna listen to someone weaker than me." Murasakibara states the reason why he was rebelling.
Usually, Akashi would surreptitiously treasure the times where his purple-headed companion was completely honest. This particular exception, however, was the outlier of all exceptions.
"...What did you say?"
A switch was flicked, then. Because now he understood who emperor was. He knows his name. He understands his potential. He locates a speck of pure twenty-four karat gold in the test tubes of slimy, red blood. And like a master summoning a demon, Emperor boiled underneath the surface of his skin.
Atsushi scored once more, Akashi stared between his shoes. And he called out Emperor's name-his real name.
"The me who is able to triumph over all...is absolutely correct."
This was how Emperor answered; through his body's voice. Across the court, his hard tone rang, bouncing off the sealed walls and causing alarm to strike in his team-mates' eyes.
And he realizes the truth behind it all. The truth: "Anyone who opposes me, even if they're my parents, should be eliminated."
The simple realization was the trigger to the corruption that entered his heart the moment his Father laid a fist against his youthful face. For that reason alone, Murasakibara got thrashed. Even then, he got his way of skipping practice regardless of the emperor's winning hand. In the afternoon, he stared into Kise's yellow eyes and like a mirror, found gold in his own. Nearing night, Kuroko Tetsuya confronted him with a question that he now knew the answer to. The phantom player asks with pure aghast clouding his defeated eyes.
"Who...who are you?"
"I'm obviously Akashi Seijuro,
"...Tetsuya."
And when he's alone, lying in bed, staring at the ivory ceiling, he lets out a mere exhalation which concealed a cruel laugh, defeat, and triumph. He finds the reality behind reality:
"I am Emperor—"
"—I am Akashi Seijuro."
"I am—
"—we are—"
"Absolute."
Synonyms of 'eliminate'
obliterate
execute
destroy
murder
defeat
Since he was lonesome and triumphant, the pure statement that caused his newly-founded second host's arrival was hidden in the cosmos, simply because he believed he was a true Akashi. Seijuro was deemed unworthy from his single guardian. The boy was denied satisfaction and affection even in his childhood years. He remembers clearly, his father's famous litany—a demand more so. An expectation, for accuracy. A law in the Akashis' book for best definition.
"Only one who demonstrates excellence in both academics and sports...no, in all areas, can be considered a member of the Akashi house-hold."
His father had succeeded. His father's father had succeeded, and so on. For his classmates, Akashi had succeeded many, many times in comparison to average students. It came with credit as well; granted with the title of most intelligent on Teikou grounds, surpassing teachers with unnecessary drawls of boredom. A state of vulnerability has yet to be seen. A sign of true contentment could just barely be seen after basketball matches. He was polite, his skin was fair, and he wasbeautiful—in the way that people noticed how his cheek-bones levelled out, the colour and shape of his eyes, the space between them, the perfect ridge of his nose... His status. His glory. His image. His figure. His intelligence. His brilliance. His intimidation. These things were all accounted for.
For his fellow classmates. Not for his father.
The boy knew for a fact, now, that Emperor had overtaken his guardian in many, many ways. To think of those words his father had rubber into his skin and from such an unsightly man...Anyone who opposes me—even if they're my—parents—should be (shall be)—eliminated.
The Generation of Miracles, what he used to think his friends were now pawns, eagerly anticipating the move of his slim, pale hand that experienced many a dark time without having to touch anything at all.
Seijuro moved forward, and so did his reflection. He pressed his soft palm against the cool mirror, his blanched eye dilating under the contact. Focusing his attention on one particular golden orb, his reflection speaks back to him when Akashi addresses it.
"I used to be shadow." His reflection told him. "Now I am emperor."
His pride doesn't have anything to do with it; he thinks as he unzips his pants and releases a shuddery breath. Instead of closing his eyes, he stares right into Emperor's, into his reflection's as his member slicked against the cool surface of the mirror, leaving a trail of his aroused essence.
He urged his own hand to reach down, but it was Emperor who grabbed Akashi's cock.
It was the true beauty that was sheathed underneath him from birth, just covered in blood-red instead of crimson, and writhing under constricting thorns instead of the fluffy heads of roses. They were two in one. At the same time, they were one in two. Akashi despised numbers that derailed his train of thought when mentally explaining Emperor, because they didn't have anything to do with it. While numerical units don't explain souls, in a different sense, they also do. The hard shell of humanity always came in pairs. A pair of eyes, ears, lungs. A pair of feat, a pair of hands, a pair of arms, a pair of legs. Never a pair of two brains. Never a pair of one spirit. This was pure logic, the agreement of the forever disagreeing community of life. Yet Akashi can somehow explain why.
His best friend was Emperor.
His lover was Emperor.
His most trusted and treasured was Emperor.
Emperor was Akashi Seijuro. Once he felt connected with the strands of Emperor's pulling with the knowledge just barely breaching into comprehension, no longer beyond. Now he understands the existence of his loved one. They weren't two peas in a pod, the both of them were the pod itself. They shared the same body, and they shared the same brain, yet one could tell you their favourite number is two, and the other could tell you six. They looked through the same eyes, but one would state the object with blunt manner while the other will fiercely calculate and examine, breaking it piece by piece with a mere gaze. They don't verbally communicate but they have conversations. They are different. They are the same.
"Akashi-sama, shall I request for a shogi opponent so the young master doesn't have to play alone?" A shaky maid placed her sweating palm against the door frame, displaying a smile of pure uneasiness.
Akashi stares at her. "I'm not playing alone."
"T-then." The maid laughs quietly, nervously as she traces circles into the wooden material of the door. "Who are you playing with?"
The young master had the habit of staring—all the maids have picked that up for sure. This time he stared at her with the expression of clear exasperation, as if directly telling her how unimpressive her stupid question might have been. When a clear minute passed by, and the maid's blanching face was getting paler by the second, he turns away his eyes narrowed as he moved the next piece on the shogi board.
It was only when the maid took that as acceptance to go, gulped dryly and rushed out did the boy glance down at his opponent's hand and smiles a dark, amused smile.
"Myself."
Out of all members of the Generation of Miracles, Akashi was the one who held the most patience. Yet even he expressed his great dislike for waiting.
Drip...drip...drip...
"You were impatient." This was the one time Emperor's smirking face wasn't hidden by the shadows. It was as if he was staring into a mirror.
"So were you." Akashi responded. "We're here again."
Drip...drip...
"Yes, Seijuro. We're in the darkest, deepest place of your mind. This is the only time in your life where we can be fully separated. That's why you should treasure these moments."
"Treasure?" Akashi slowly turned his head to face his self-demon. They smirked at each other.
With each step closer to one another, the more Akashi could sense the throb of his heart becoming more erratic, almost unrestrained. Finally the basketball player could finally examine his partner who had his full appearance right down to the silky red strands on his head, bar his eyes. Emperor's cold, menacing eyes were based on a golden hue, which stared right back into his own, red eyes. When a bond was established, both pairs of orbs addressed each other with a taste of endearment. Too quickly, Emperor initiated contact on his skin, and Akashi gasped as his flesh instantaneously warmed up in a tingly sensation in reaction to Emperor's fingers.
Seijuro closed his eyes and breathed out slowly as he felt cold fingers trail down his newly-naked body. In quick succession his fingers were intertwined with Emperor's left hand who seemed indifferent to the action, breathing over Akashi's creamy white thigh.
With his free hand, Emperor gripped Akashi's hip before sliding it slowly down to the middle of his thigh. "How sinful." He breathed out, holding his host's eyes for a little while longer. "The way you look."
"We look the same." Akashi rasped out, his voice uncharacteristically aligned with breathlessness and desire.
The boy released a soft gasp as the slick muscle of Emperor's tongue swiped over his inner thigh, making his legs quiver in retaliation.
"You are too beautiful." Emperor said with half-lidded eyes, sinking into the calculating stare of his partner.
"Are you ever going to leave me?" Akashi asks quietly, demanding a temporary stop to his actions.
"Not until the grand separation of two souls."
"When will...that be?"
"I'm afraid I do not know that." Emperor said with a dual flash of his eye.
"I don't want you to leave me."
"Neither do I." Emperor stated honestly. "You are too weak without me."
"Yes; I'm too weak." The boy said with a bitter smile, laughing softly. "Come stay with me. Forever. You can do that, right?" Love me. Fill in the voids that my parents never filled and instead stabbed deeper. Be the bandaids to my wounds that weep tears of my blood.
"I can." Emperor said, staring up at his partner through his knelt down position. "I can do that for you, Seijuro. There is a way where we can be together forever."
Akashi whispered. "What is it?"
"You must be me. I must be you." The golden-eyed boy smiled an intricate smile while cocking his head to the side. "Right now, you are the host and I am the occupant. In order to carry out our wish, I need to control your body, and you must reside here instead."
Akashi answered with silence.
"Don't worry, Seijuro." He said with a sweet, dangerous tone. "It looks bad but remember that you're never quite alone. I will be here for all eternity after all."
The red-haired boy dropped down onto his knees, clasping Emperor's hands in his own as they were aligned on the same level. Staring into his resident's eyes with such intensity, Akashi felt inclined to bow his head down submissively.
"Grant me one wish, Emperor."
Emperor gathered up his host's body into his own arms, squeezing him tightly. "Yes." He drew back, and their lips connected with one hot movement. Akashi's eyes fluttered shut at the feel of those soft lips pressing into his own. The soft muscles prodded and danced each other before the weaker moaned as a bold tongue tasted every inch of his mouth as if he was an experiment or an object to be toyed with.
Emperor gently pushed Akashi so his back landed on the soft ground. Their surroundings were the least of their concerns now, as the resident planted kisses flecked over Akashi calves and knees. Akashi cried out as he felt a hand gently squeeze his testicles, gently rolling them in a warm palm, the sensitive bit of his body jolting at the sudden motion.
"Let me take care of you, Seijuro." Emperor commanded, watching the beauty squirm and listening to all the pretty pants that escaped those dusted-pink lips. "I'll make you feel the best you've ever felt in your entire life." He reassured with a devious voice, rubbing the swollen sack.
In the future, he will savour every time he gets to see the lion like this-the porcelain skin flushed with a brilliant pink, those eyes so full of life but shadowed with the essence of impurity, body responsive and jolting to each of his easy touches and that mouth that outed what Emperor considered music to his ears. "No one is allowed to see you at this level except for me." He stated firmly, smirking when he receives a compliant nod.
Seijuro didn't know why, but he felt over-sensitized. Each touch felt like an igniting fire that was quickly replaced by a cool breath as the fingertips left his skin. Releasing Akashi's sack, Emperor placed his pale hands on even paler legs, spreading them apart, sounding like he was having difficulty breathing as he stared down at Akashi's most private parts of his body. From the Akashi's brilliant, striking red hair down to the tips of his toes, he was perfect. And his penis didn't hold the fact back either. It was an innocent, pink colour with straight stance that was already lapping at his stomach as Emperor hauled his spread legs higher, revealing his cute little pucker.
Akashi watched silently, bar his soft pants, as his intruder's face descended. A surprised, stuttering yelp suddenly left him as he felt what could only be a tongue strongly swipe over his entrance, prodding but not quite penetrating.
"How unsanitary." He breathed out in contradictory distaste.
The tongue retreated for two seconds just for Emperor to give his 'friend' a knowing smile before that slick muscle was back again, zig-zagging over the little bud's protrusion, causing the teenager to claw at the ground, his stomach muscles already quivering and his legs tensing in the muscle, most probably to refrain from either pushing forwards into the awaiting hot mouth or backwards in protest.
But the other wouldn't let him have any of it; instead of giving him mercy, Emperor gripped his thighs harder, directly warning him of the consequences if he was to escape. Akashi whimpered as his partner continued his harsh ministrations, the rough edge of his tongue breaching the opening of Akashi's clenching hole. Emperor stopped when the boy was reduced to a needy mess, making the most sinful of faces on the floor.
Drip...drip...
"You'll breathe better under fire." Emperor tells him with an unwavering voice.
They seemed to be in a dim location, outdoors but no soft breeze was felt save for the soft, hot breaths of exhalation that Akashi could feel quite sensitively on his skin. The golden-eyed twin pulled his head back only to stare at the quivering pink pucker that was clenching and unclenching in sheer need. He closed his eyes as his rosy lips circled around the tiny hole and sucked.
The errant doing elicited a sweet whine that was building up at the back of Akashi's throat. As he had no motive of disconnecting, Akashi's mouth fell open against his control and his pants became erratic, terribly flushed from attacking sensations that he had never experienced so wholesomely. Pausing the sucking temporarily, Emperor rubbed his hand in repeated vertical-motion down Akashi's thigh as if to comfort him, before plunging the tip of his tongue into the tight entrance. The resistance was only because of Akashi's uncertainty, but as Emperor softly penetrated his hole down to the very base of his tongue, you could determine Akashi as almost immobile or shivering violently.
The submissive partner had gritted his teeth and yelled through them. The foreign feeling made him feel so small and fragile, but the next loving strokes and lazy curls of the tongue made him feel as if he were a fragile doll being spoiled and pampered. He gave a high-pitched moan as the tongue started to gently rock back and forth before sliding out fully only to slide back in and was repeated. As Akashi felt his resolve crumbling away, he couldn't help but think it was ridiculously unfair that the only person that treated him this way was practically himself.
But as another breathy exhalation escaped him due to another thrust of the incredibly long-feeling tongue, Akashi couldn't help but contently accept the fact that this Emperor right here, tongue-fucking him, was all he needed.
The movements became stricter; the hot muscle inside him began lashing out to drill at his inner walls and poke deeper, and suddenly Akashi was making the most illegal of noises, having fallen as prey. He knew he should have felt horrified at. That weakness of his, that his vulnerability was being lewdly displayed. But his cares were merely tossed over his shoulder, just like Aomine familiarly proceeded to do with everyday tasks. He gulped and emitted soft noises of pleasure his legs quivering as they were held back in position.
Emperor was hungrily sucking and twisting, slurping and prodding, tasting the boy to his heart's content. He raked his teeth over the sensitive skin surrounding the puckered hole once to gain a surprised shout from the Teikou captain.
Mindset suddenly flushed in yearning, Emperor ceased, staring into clouded red eyes with indifference, his impassive face that was usually seen in a smirk emitting such intensity that Akashi breathed in while he still felt the after-effects of the pleasure he brought.
The captain should have felt embarrassed, humiliated, unbalanced. But just who was he losing to?
No one. Emperor mouthed to him, answering his thoughts as one moved downwards, and the other pushed up, their skin clashing in a heated duel. The established dominant partner quickly climbed atop the small basketball player, hands on either side of Akashi's head on the ground. He forcefully smashed their lips together, though none of them registered pain. They were losing to no one after all. Hips were rocked together, and from which Akashi idly plucked out two tangents.
The first was a slight glimpse of reality, one that questioned morality. From the moment he developed the ability to speak and string coherent thoughts, he had set out his morals so he never encountered a drawback bar this very moment. But it was one where he didn't go into depth with for the pronounced features of the second. The second being the realization that these touches were real.
That Emperor was real. And that he wanted Emperor inside him as soon as possible.
Their hot, erect girths were forcibly pressed against one another, and with remarkable pain came extraordinary pleasure. One that Akashi most certainly had to endure the hard way; the pace that Emperor was setting on his body was like pouring liquid over a ticking time bomb. The boy didn't have to do anything; Emperor violently rocked his hips backwards and forwards, hissing in pleasure as their sexes produced excitable friction.
Even sooner, the resident was reaching down their sweat-gleaming bodies to hook a leg of Akashi's over his shoulder, though it did not even create a falter in his movements. Akashi made a sound inside the kiss, whether it was of protest or praise, neither found out because he was soon moaning loudly at the sudden, fast pace in which the single digit took to plow into him. Soon he was creating a steady rhythm gaining a pleasurable, soft sound from Akashi whenever it was buried to the hilt.
Emperor smirked when he hit a certain spot, the louder than usual moan indicating a violent reaction. Closing his eyes for a brief second, he remembered the angle to find his sweet's sweet spot. And too soon he was guiding his own erection inside, meeting with well-stretched but tight resistance.
The captain fluttered his eyes shut and exhaled softly as he felt the tight ring of his muscle greedily accept the hot rod that was penetrating him. The power that flowed through connected veins was over-powering, and so were the gradual thrusts that wreaked havoc inside his tight channel. In the midst of their physical connection was a feeling of scorching fire that tickled the most sensitive of organs and cavity. It drove Akashi absolutely crazy.
Everything was escaping him. All of his contents. What were his contents? What was he made of?
Shogi, perhaps. Shogi, a battered crown, maybe the colour of molten emeralds like Midorima's eyes—like the lemon grass that scented the basketball stadium. The net of a basketball ring, not the ring itself. A little bit of this and that, one part absolute and two parts tragedy. Bruises, perhaps. The fine blade of his father's backhands. Perhaps.
Each one escaped his body, each one didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was the hard member splitting him open at an overwhelming pace. His encouraged violence battered Akashi's prostate with each thrust, inflicting a great pleasure undoubtedly brought down from the heavens. However with the rough pace he was going at, the boy felt too over-powered, too sensational; blind to everything to actually deduct what he was feeling. Whatever he was feeling, nonetheless, was the best he felt all his life.
Finally united with his demon.
The red, vicious demon that declared a strong host fed on the nova that their skinship produced. Fireworks thrashed into the sleeked spaces of blackened vision behind Akashi's tightly shut eyelids, exploding bombs of orange and red and gold and white. If Akashi had one word to describe the sensation, it would be akin to running through a seductress's blue flames of incorrigible evil.
He was filled with Emperor's hot essence from pumping him into completion. He was filled with Emperor's spirit from pumping him with submission. On a lighter note, he splattered the flawless, alabaster abdomen with white ribbons of his own seed.
When he falls, it's under Kuroko Tetsuya's hand.
The legend of Rakuzan is no more after Seirin showed him a sight he had never seen before. The team that was entitled with less than a handful of his personal greatness lashed out with the fumes he could never return. He knew it when eyes turned to him for a final second. That's when he stopped understanding the truth. It was a total of three tears that escaped his mismatched orbs while he saw Tetsuya's widen. As he stared into those lively azure eyes, he couldn't help but find something being born from the ashes.
He asks a question. "In the end, do I hold value?"
"No." Emperor tells him. "You hold tragedy. And a basketball."
Father would have said the same thing. He feels his own sweat rolling down his shoulders and body, clashing with the ground in minuscule destructions. He feels his tears copying the behavior.
Drip...drip...drip...
Akashi steps into the fire and becomes.
a/n: i feel like there's a huge typo in the middle of the story that i accidentally overlooked, or too many to count. feel free to point out any mistakes or scold me about something! anyone interested in a KuroAka fanfic? i'm planning on starting one next. thanks for reading!