Well, the challenge was yaoi or yuri, but I don't think I could do both aspects of the challenge like I like to, so I chose yaoi. It came a little... notwhatIwanted, but it's still pretty hot. :3
To clear anything up, Wiriam is a scientist who experiments on people in this. :D
EDIT: At the bottom there's a second yaoi piece I wrote for this challenge, completely unrelated to the first.
Wiriam spun Kaito around violently before pinning him against the cold metal table. Kaito hissed at the chilled surface pressing against his face, his left hand—his dominate hand—held behind him.
Wiriam leaned over the boy's body, bringing his lips to the other's ear. "So you think you can just leave?" the elder man growled, causing a trail of unwelcomed shivers to vibrate through him.
"I'm notyour lab rat," Kaito spat.
A grimace crossed Wiriam's face. His right hand found its way into Kaito's blue locks, coarse skin meeting smooth hair before he pulled back roughly, the boy's head leaving the table followed by a muffled cry. "And you think you're anything more?"
He didn't answer; didn't want to answer. He didn't know what would happen if he set the silver-haired man off any further. Just from the reactions he had seen before, to even the most trivial things, he knew it wouldn't be good.
Kaito's sapphire gaze tried to meet his captor's. He watched as Wiriam glanced between him and a tray of tools a bit further down on the table. "Don't," he whispered, not realizing he spoke until those wild green eyes flew back to focus on his face.
"Don't?" Wiriam echoed back, "Don't? You think you have the right to tell me to stop; to not give you the same torture I have received?" His was growing in volume and anger. He threw Kaito's head down against the metal surface, his fingers almost reluctant to leave the boy's soft hair so aggressively. "Every minute, every second my thoughts are not my own, but yours! You have stolen my free will and that is somehow just?"
Kaito didn't understand what the man was saying. The force from the table just left everything as a smear of colors and sound to his senses. There was a metallic taste in his mouth, so maybe he bit his tongue from the impact? He didn't know; couldn't understand—it only hurt. Just what was happening?
"Stop. Please," he whispered; the pain seemed to grow through his body with each second, becoming more vivid to his failing senses. "It hurts."
"No, it doesn't," Wiriam rasped, still leaning over the boy, his breathing becoming erratic. "You have no right to say that. Not yet." There had to be something, anything that would help even the score; something that would give Kaito the same pain that Wiriam had experienced for so long now, but he didn't want to make them equal. Kaito didn't need that pain, no.
His eyes shot back over to the tray littered with an assortment of surgical tools. "You'll be mine forever," he muttered under his breath, "Forever mine. I'll show you; I'll show everyone!" His calloused hand wrapped around the knife the finest point before his vision shot back over to the boy below him.
Kaito's eyes widened in the reflection of the shining metal.
Even if he escaped, he would never be able to escape that man now; never escape the memories of that man with the silver hair and wonderfully broken emerald eyes.
Here's the second Yaoi piece, a short Kaito/Gakupo drabble.
Gakupo couldn't help it: he was smirking and there was absolutely no way to stop. Kaito, on the other hand, held only a grimace on his face as they stared at the wall littered with pencil marks and names. In a flamboyant purple color was Gakupo's name, well above Kaito's blue mark. It was the wall they all measured their height on—no specific measurements used—and also Gakupo's favorite wall. Why? Well, for the privileges that came with being taller than Kaito, of course.
"You know," the samurai started, "You could just be lacking in dairy."
Kaito's cheeks slightly puffed out at that, a pout starting to take over. "You know that's not it." He knew that with the amount of ice cream he ate, there was no way that could be it.
Gakupo turned his violet eyes from his trophy mark to the man beside him. "Twelve inches isn't that bad."
"It's three! Don't make this any worse!" Kaito whined, thinking about going to drowning his sorrows in a friend that would never let him down: ice cream.
"Well, there are advantages to this."
Kaito looked up in time to see the gleam in the other's eyes. "Like what?"
"For one," Gakupo started, leaning in and resting his forehead on Kaito's, "We never have to argue about who takes which role."
Kaito stared at him for a moment before developing a smirk of his own. "That is true," he said. His hand then reached up, grabbed a fistful of purple hair, and pulled the newer singer closer to be barely a breath apart. "Size is what determines it. I hope your knees will be okay, though," he muttered before letting go and starting to walk away, "Since height means nothing."