Well damn! So this is;
1 )Me brutally and mercilessly bullying Rock and Yamazaki while trying to justify shipping the faves because why not? I ain't a Shipster™ for nothing.
2) The end result of me getting inspired to do a side story to Black Velvet based on a few throwaway lines.
3) The end result of me wanting to do something darker than usual, hence the pseudo. Still filled with my good feels because I am a sap.
4) My tendency to humanize objectively bad fictional people to hell and back rearing its ugly head. No, what do you MEAN Yamazaki is a violent psychopath? Hush!
Reader discretion is heavily advised. Trauma, sexual abuse, self-harm and graphic violence are recurring themes. We'll have happy moments too of course, lots of them, but when the grim shit comes, I'll pull no punches.
Secondly, this is non-canon compliant. Meaning I'll play fast and loose with bits of canon, adding some shit, changing events and thereby ages around. It'll be explained in later chapters.
Finally, it's a NSFW yaoi story. It's gonna be hyper gay, gratuitously smutty, have BDSM elements and kink content. If that ain't your cup of tea, that's completely fine. I'm just giving you a heads-up.
This will be your only warning.
Takes place in the tail end of and after Black Velvet. I recommend you read it because otherwise you may get confused about some things.
BTW, chapters are long. 7k words at points.
Enough rambling so as always, thank you for reading.
The place that Yamazaki entered wasn't as rundown and ragged with sin as he expected it to be, but he knew that it was one of those places that just oozed sleaze and illegality. Said quite a bit about his expertise when he could identify those things so easily. With how unsubtle it was, he got the feeling that the people inside were weakened by substance abuse and while he'd like to smash a few skulls in, he'd let the Heinlein goons do it this time.
Even so, he stomped through the establishment, following behind the defensive front as they tore through the building, through every room with all sorts of weapons, busting bodyguards and bartenders indiscriminately. Brass knuckles, baseball bats, chains, knives, what have you. Kain Heinlein was always liberal in the weapons he allowed his underlings to use – except firearms because those could so easily kill.
Even tried to encroach on Yamazaki's weapon dealing business until a stern reminder that they were not boss and subordinate or partners put the fucker in his place. No, Yamazaki was just a mercenary being paid to help weed out low-profile vermin. He wasn't a Heinlein goon, never was, never would be.
This abode had the makings of an old gentleman's club; the likes of which you needed to know someone to enter. And even still, there were probably exclusive areas for the most prestigious members. So, it wasn't surprising that their targets were in the basement levels of the building. No emergency exit either, Yamazaki concluded as he heard the familiar sounds of a conflict; glass breaking, women screaming, men shouting.
Then came the aftermath as goons dragged out rich crooks by the roots of their hair after cuffing and maiming them. And when the room was empty, Yamazaki peeked inside. Maybe he'd find something valuable. He did spot a watch on a nightstand next to a large, stained bed.
He noticed Rock Howard sitting on said bed, propped up against the wall, clothes mussed, hair a mess, partly naked with something wet all over his skin; sweat, spit, and something else.
It was gonna be one of those nights, wasn't it?
Yamazaki moved slowly as he entered. He snatched the watch first, then focused on the young man on the mattress. It was not a great sight, really. Grossly tasteless. Wrongly familiar. For someone, who was a direct relative to Kain Heinlein, he sure wasn't treated that well. It must have been a long time since he had felt good in life if he found himself in this situation.
Yamazaki could never quite get over the turn of events, the strike of fate that hit him when he strolled into Kain's office for the first time and passed Rock Howard on the way. The kid left before a quip could be thrown his way. Yamazaki expected it to be a one-off, but he kept showing up. And then he became instrumental in assignments, often ending up like he was now. Wasn't he Terry's protege? Where was he anyway? Where were all the other losers of the South Town Hero Conglomerate?
A lot of things sure had happened since Yamazaki had last been in South Town. Six whole months could probably change a lot in a city. The place had a different feel to it. And so did Rock Howard, sitting all wrong. Discarded like a piece of tissue, then probably used again some more. His limbs lay flat around his body, his head dipped forward. There were signs of a needle injection on the side of his neck. Done quite poorly with the bruising around the area.
Curious, Yamazaki used a finger to poke Rock's forehead and he twitched, vibrantly scarlet yet hazy eyes barely cracking open. Some defiance flickered in his gaze, and he opened his mouth, uttering something completely nonsensical. Yamazaki stepped back and let him move, although calling it such would be generous. Rock lurched to the side, over the edge of the bed, and upended himself on the floor.
Yeah, it was one of those nights. A real bad one.
Yamazaki groaned and did himself a huge disservice by pulling the brat off the floor by his arm, unsurprised that he couldn't stand up. Indifference turned to frustration like the strike of lightning because he couldn't just be left here. Kain wanted him back and he'd hold Yamazaki's paycheck hostage if the stupid kid wasn't within his grasp to use and abuse again.
That Terry's protégé would be reduced to this, for any reason other than pure madness, was quite pitiful. And that should say a lot as Yamazaki never quite felt pity. The world didn't give a shit about it anyway, so why should he? He tightened his grip around Rock's arm and dragged him out of this shithole. Ignoring the shudder and pathetic gasp that came from him like he was about to burst into tears. His entire body trembled now, and Yamazaki had to loosen the grip for a moment, just to make sure he wasn't dying of a drug overdose or something.
He was not.
Instead, his entire stomach gut wrung like a wet towel and the end result was vomit all over the floor. Of course, a terrible fucking night. Kain wouldn't get much use from the kid after this for a while. Yamazaki held Rock at an arm's distance and watched as the leopard print carpet floor got drenched in little more than orange watery stomach acid. It was a shock that it didn't cover Rock's clothing. Mostly. Drips of spit dangled from his lips as he stopped shaking for a moment, then coughed and hacked, ending the fit with sniffling.
It was pitiful. Disgusting. Pathetic. And a lot of other pejoratives, Yamazaki couldn't decide if he should throw at Kain or Rock. Surprisingly, Geese Howard never handed out such awful jobs. Not like this. Not unfun, not slow, not boring. Not foul and miserable. It paid well, yeah, and Yamazaki liked cash, yeah but for fuck's sake, he had standards.
"You're a fuckin' idiot," he spat, cruel and unsympathetic. He stabbed deeper. "Wonder what your precious papa wolf would say if he saw you right now."
"F-fuck you," Rock croaked between retches, half furious, half hysterical. Coughing so hard, it was as if his lungs were about to fly out of his mouth. "I don't need your b-bullshit."
Evidently, he did.
Some kids never learned before you cracked the whip hard enough. Hopefully, he would get some sense in his skull with one sharp wheeze and a few dribbles of spit onto the carpet. His breath hitched and hiccupped in between twitches to break free but he was so fucked up, he'd fall face-first into a pool of his own vomit if someone wasn't keeping him stable.
"…H-hurts…too much," he whined before he broke into subtle sobs. "Mom…"
Well, he was chattier this time. Usually, he'd be knocked out cold, so it made carrying him out of whatever dump he got sent to easier. Thus there was another change in a series of endless differences. Something strange settled over Yamazaki then. He didn't think to identify it, but it was potent enough to alarm him, the way it made the world change him stop for a second.
Briefly reshaped him and his outlook on life. He was still frustrated and inconvenienced by having to play babysitter to an edgy brat but…fuck it, he was still pissed. He did far better at being pissed and it came out of him like a downpour of belligerence and pleasure of breaking a young man already torn apart by his own demons.
"Yeah, well. You're still a moronic little dumbass, throwing yourself into a lion's den. Can't believe I have to tell you this but evidently, I fuckin' do because Terry didn't. He didn't tell you to think for one second either," Yamazaki treated each word like the tip of his favorite blade, poking holes into flesh and letting it bleed. Lacing it with salt to really sting and hurt. If he mentioned the mother, he'd probably slice the kid's heart out.
Rock remained quiet for a moment, shrinking, and recoiling at every word. He was sagging into Yamazaki's grasp as he was pulled out of the room, away from that awful smell of perfumes, tobacco, alcohol, and puke. He stopped moving in general, like he had shut down entirely so getting his stupid ass into the elevator was made more difficult than normal. He ended up sitting slumped against the elevator wall.
"D-doesn't matter," said Rock after a long pause, a little more clearer. "No one cares anyway."
Yamazaki punched the button to the ground floor and waited as the machine got into gear. He turned around and looked at the younger man, mulling over those implications far more than he really should. Would suggest a whole host of things that probably wouldn't make a difference in his life if he knew them or not. And yet, that pesky feeling came slithering in again. It hit a little too close to home, a little too familiarly. A little too raw for Yamazaki to not recognize desolation and hopelessness.
"Not even yourself?" he asked.
Rock dragged his gaze upwards. Striking red, much like the skin around his eyes as if he had been crying. He had admittingly always been a golden-haired pretty boy. Even now, drenched in illicit substances and looking like an absolute trainwreck taking human form. Pretty boy or not, he also looked broken. Pale and almost corpse-like. Pathetic in a way, you wouldn't think would come from someone under Terry's wing. Was it because there was no wing to be under that he ended like this?
"Why would I? Why do you care? What is it to you?" his voice was hoarse and haggard.
"Nothing, you stupid wolf bitch," Yamazaki jeered with a mocking snicker. "I'm just telling you some truths."
"Good for you. Had fun? Front row seats to the encore of some drugged-up hole, rated E for everyone?" Rock bit back, every word of his laced with self-deprecating apathy like a dying animal taking its last breath. His eyes burned with something akin to absolute, indiscriminate despair and disconnect, aimed at the world in general.
Yamazaki shook his head as the elevator came to a stop. Something inside of him twitched at familiar discomfort and it morphed his expression into a grim smile. "Not really, no. I don't get off to people getting junked up and fucked through against their will. I got standards – unlike you."
"Good for you," Rock repeated. He had some of Terry's spunk with a side order of cheeky irritation to it. It was mildly amusing as it was annoying.
Now, Terry was a great opponent. Nice to hit, nice to indulge in violence with. He'd make the perfect cracks if his bones were broken. Rock was…well, Rock was Rock. Simple as that. And now he was attempting to stand up, pushing his body up against the wall, only to tilt forward and force Yamazaki to heave him upwards – and catch him fully as his legs gave out entirely. He gagged and shook, retching, then went limp. So, he was dragged out of the building, dragged across the asphalt, and loaded into a lone, stolen car.
Yamazaki, like times before, had to ride with him. Like times before, they drove past the hospital, sparing invasive questions, long formalities, police, and stupid nurses too curious for their own fucking good. No show for them to peer at. Rock was already corrupted, no need to broadcast it. The culprits were already taken care of so there wasn't a reason to sample the semen either. The thought alone almost made Yamazaki lose his dinner.
He'd rather not think about it. He did however need to think of a way to break off from Kain because this was too much. In the meantime, he shot a disinterested glance at Rock, watching him doze off and stay like that for most of the ride, only to rouse awake in spurts and sob, then pass out again. In his state, he couldn't be left alone but that was Kain's problem.
Kain could be the one to spend the night cleaning and feeding him until it was time to start the cycle all over – again. And again. And again. Okay, suppose being seduced into this partnership with the promise of busting heads and crashing parties for good money, had taken a toll on Yamazaki. A bigger one that he'd like to admit. It made him think long and hard, about as long as this stupid drive back. But Rock was a stupid brat anyway, who got himself wrapped up in this. But then again, why? Why this hurt?
For Yamazaki, it had been-
No. Never mind. It was in the past anyway. But then again…fuck it, he thought. Fuck it, he settled for and did a detour away from the route to Kain's mansion. He'd talk with the fucker tomorrow. He'd deal with Rock's bullshit tonight and charge double for it. Knock some sense into the stupid kid once and for all. Maybe just find out why he was throwing himself through hell. The ride to their new destination was mercifully shorter.
The car pulled to a stop in front of the motel, Yamazaki called home. He found himself not exhausted like every other normal human would be. He was agitated. For being inconvenienced, for being a smidge solidary. Lowkey so pissed off that he could rip his skin from his bones. So, he didn't spend time on being gentle, hopping out of the vehicle and circling it to the passenger seat where Rock sat slumped over like a pretty sack of potatoes.
It took a few rough shakes to stir him awake and even so, he didn't resurface until a few minutes later. It took even longer for his body to twitch with life and his bleary mind to register anything around him. Stubbornness slipped in like a mist and he moved on his own – barely. Dragging himself out of the car with gurgled groans while Yamazaki had to support him to the building nearby.
Once inside, Yamazaki unceremoniously dumped Rock onto the old couch that was usually unoccupied. Instantly, the kid curled up into a ball of himself and stayed like that. For a long time, Yamazaki regarded him and wondered to himself what had possessed him to do this. It couldn't all be solidarity, could it? Was it? Was it even solidarity? Shit, he didn't know. Guess there was a tiny part of him that just disliked the depravity of what he was privy to. Money didn't care about morals and Yamazaki didn't care about people. He didn't care about Rock all that much either.
But-
A loud vibration came from the device in his pocket, and he answered, catching the number to be a secret one. Just out of habit, he picked up and kept quiet, hearing Kain's voice calmly ask; "Where is my nephew?"
As if he cared.
"With me. He got fucked badly this time, Heinlein," Yamazaki answered, a little more sharply than his usual rudeness. "You might wanna stop whoring him out if you don't want him to die. Just a word of advice."
"Don't you worry about that."
"I don't give a flying fuck either way honestly, but I demand getting paid extra for keeping watch on your call girl. Or I could dump him on the street and let the rats eat 'im if you expect me to babysit him for free. Your choice."
Almost without hesitation, Kain responded with his typically placid tone. "Fine. I'll wire the money to you. Make sure he comes back to me alive and well."
Well? Well, Fuck off.
"Sure, whatever. And by the way, your guys suck ass to work with," Yamazaki ended the call then, briefly so uncharacteristically furious at the man. He looked at the clock and saw it was far past midnight. It wouldn't be such a long night hopefully. The real nightmare would come during sunrise.
Regardless, Yamazaki could soothe himself by being paid well for this.