03: Betrayal
By Tortulia
Previous parts: [P] [1] [2]
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Tsuzuki/Hisoka, MurakixHisoka
Summary: Etc, etc. Warnings for hearty attempt at smut, but my vocabulary failed me halfway through. Non-con. *shifty eyes*
***
"Let me out!" Tsuzuki shouted, ramming his shoulder over and over against the cage door. The guards had tossed him into another room he and Hisoka hadn't found – this one with more people, and most of them locked in their own small metal crates, in various states of silent depression. His own cage had enough room to stand, which was more than the others could claim… that, and he was fully clothed.
The men murmured quietly to themselves, giving him a look before turning to leave.
He slammed into the bars again, demanding, "Come back!"
The room's door clicked shut then locked.
Arms tied behind him with rope, he could do little but kick and fling himself at the cage. After making some noise, Tsuzuki rested his head between the bars with a frustrated whine.
"He's going about it in the wrong way, Nii-chan," a cool voice whispered.
"Don't think your method is any better, Kuu-chan," another answered.
"Why does he get the bigger room, hmm? When there are two of us…"
"No need to be jealous, I'm sure our next home will be much bigger."
The man raised his head and looked around. In the cage to his left – an arm's reach away - were two young men huddled in a corner, their limbs twined intimately together. One had short, neatly trimmed hair, and the other had long locks that fell past his shoulders.
There was a long, awkward pause, and for lack of anything else to say, he said, "Uh…hi."
"Hello," they said in union.
He recovered a bit. "Are you… brothers?"
"Your eyes must be bad. We're twins, obviously," Kuu said with irritation, his temper seemingly as short as his hair. "Nii, why did that last old man have to cut my hair?"
"I would ask, but that'd be impossible since you cut his throat," answered Nii. He nuzzled his (younger?) brother, and Tsuzuki realized their arms were free. "Don't worry, it'll grow back."
"Did you… kill someone?" he asked, looking a bit ashen, and sat down hard in surprise.
"Hardly," Kuu snorted, rolling his eyes. The expression reminded him of Hisoka. "I just hurt him a little. But then he sent us both back."
"We've been returned many times," Nii said, somberly.
"Do you know how to get out of here?" he eagerly asked.
"Only way out is to be sold."
"Not so bad – you can always get out later when they take you home. We always get caught, though," Kuu huffed.
"It's because you always come back for me," his brother chided with a mournful look.
"Stop thinking I'd leave you behind!"
"Ano… you two seem very close," Tsuzuki said, smiling.
"We go together, or we go no where," Kuu said fiercely, and clung to Nii.
The man stared at the floor, a feeling hitting him in the gut. "I have someone I'm looking for. We came here together, and I'm not going anywhere without him, either."
Nii managed to untangle himself from his other and crawled across the cage. "Where is he now?"
"I… I don't know," he said, voice cracking. He had no idea what was happening to his partner, and all the possibilities that came to mind made him feel ill. "They took him away to the auction. I don't care what happens to me, but they can't do this to Hisoka! If someone hurts him, I'll… I'd just…" Tsuzuki rested his head on the bars again, eyes closed. "I don't think he'll be okay."
Everything was quiet, and his mind was running in circles. Something twitched in his chest, some unknown instinct whispering to him that things were not going to turn out well.
Maybe if we just left sooner, he thought guiltily. But he couldn't just leave all those other people… I should of told him to go, that I'd catch up, or…!
Before he fell deeper into self-pity, Kuu piped up, "What's your name, mister?"
"Tsuzuki," he answered. He looked up and the twins were pressed to the side next to him.
"Well turn around," Kuu ordered, exasperated. "Let's try to get those ropes off of you."
---
Tsuzuki… where is he?
He probably doesn't even know that Muraki's here…
He'd worry himself sick, if he did.
Every touch blotted out Hisoka's thoughts and drew him away from himself, like a butterfly drawing nectar. He was surrounded by Muraki's will, his wants, his needs, his skin, and could only follow those whims like a marionette.
That idiot… he thought, dream-like. I bet he got himself in trouble again, somewhere. And then I'll have to -
His body had been worked up into a fury by Muraki's toying, his skin hot and nearly burning from the inside-out with their every moment on the bed. Every touch of their skin made him shiver. He unwillingly - or willingly, he didn't know what was happening anymore - arched up against Muraki's gifted mouth as it took him in, and a strong arm twisted underneath Hisoka to draw them closer. Their bodies seemed fused into one, like cream melting over soft butter skin.
Tsuzuki wanted to make dinner later. I wanted -
The room was cloudy and out of focus, his mind and body's attentions centered elsewhere. His breath came in gasps, thinking that each intake of the scented air would steady him until another caress or kiss would jerk the world away from him again and again. A noise grew, a keen and snarl like a strange beast, sounding louder and louder until he recognized it as his own strangled voice echoing the rise and fall of his body following Muraki's commands.
Some instinct had taken a hold of Hisoka causing him to buck and twitch, thoughts divorced from actions, and realized a moment too late that he was trying to force himself further into Muraki's heady suction.
I want -
Muraki chuckled. Hisoka didn't hear it but felt the throaty rumble of vibrations moving around him. He bucked again, trying to fight what was coming, the heavy weight of foreboding eating away at his nerves. The man encouraged the reaction, setting his own body firmly over Hisoka, locking those slim legs apart, and taking pleasure in tickling the defenseless length of flesh along the knee and inner thigh.
Without warning, the warm dampness lifted away, leaving Hisoka to collapse back on the nest of sheets. Chest heaving, he allowed himself to lie there, still aching but not wanting the relief Muraki offered, blinking his vision back to normal… willing the race of his heartbeat back to normal. It was like swimming against a fast current.
I don't want this
He had to leave. He had to get out of there right now.
But before he could make himself respond to those plans, he was gently rolled over and then lifted. Being pulled back until - and he realized this with a start - he was kneeling on all fours.
"S-stop, w-what - " he stuttered, forcing to make his voice work, feeling not just a little ill. The small symphony of sounds encouraged Muraki, inspiring him to slip a hand down to massage firm buttocks, the first touch of fingers causing Hisoka to jerk. They dipped further and lazily caressed the crevice in between, curious and at the same time demanding.
"How is this?" Muraki asked, curious. Suddenly, he pressed a finger in - one knuckle, then two.
Hisoka finally lost himself to the fear and panic which shadowed his mind throughout the whole night. Emotions boiled over, his lungs wanted burst from the growing tempo of his gasps, thoughts nauseating, incoherent, frenzied, and then muscles rebelling all at once - he thrashed and ripped away from the doctor. He shook so much that his fingers couldn't grasp the smooth blankets, favoring instead to claw uselessly as he stumbled all over the mattress.
"Get away!"
"Boy." Pale arms which were only a shade lighter than the silky sheets caught Hisoka.
"Don't touch me - !" he screamed, struggling to escape - only to find himself spun chest to chest with Muraki and trapped. Tears of anger and panic welled up as he raged at his helplessness; being not powerful enough to shove away and much too close to even efficiently dig his nails into him. Despair heaved in his soul, wishing that he and Tsuzuki had never accepted this damned assignment - and to his horror, he began to cry.
"Boy!" Muraki spoke, his tone ordered attention. "Do you want this to hurt?"
"I hate you," Hisoka sobbed, shaking. He crumpled into the carefully crushing grip, too ashamed by his own weaknesses to move anymore and knowing there wasn't anything he could do. A palm moved over his back in a gesture of mock comfort.
Then Muraki dipped his head closer, his even breaths a counterpart to the panting and a warm mist at Hisoka's ear. "Do you want it to be as painful as before? Lying, so beautiful, as I bound you to me, almost mute from crying out louder than you ever have?"
A shudder; he squeezed his limbs together like he was trying to curl up and look as small as possible. His unwanted erection pulsed nearly painful as he brushed against the other man, all too aware of their brief history together.
"Well?" Muraki insisted.
He managed to choke out, "No."
"Then I won't hurt you." Fingers latched onto Hisoka's hair, and his head was tilted back until he was staring with damp eyes into Muraki. "But you must cooperate with me, boy."
For a second Hisoka was surprised and hope flared, thinking that maybe the doctor would let him go…but the prodding silver gaze never left him, waiting for some reaction, and exceedingly expectant. A worse dread than the one before crept into his heart when Hisoka realized just what he meant, and quite suddenly he couldn't breathe.
"Understand?" Muraki darkly purred, and shifted their weight until the younger man was leaning on him. "Cooperate, or otherwise…" He didn't finish, letting the unsaid menace linger in the air. Hisoka was pretty sure he knew what "otherwise" would mean.
---
Muraki laid Hisoka down on the bed - slow and careful - allowing the mattress to ease under them with barely a sound. The doctor had reached for something on the table near the bed – a little container with something… slippery. With his warm, long fingers he experimentally rubbed it down Hisoka's length, eliciting a noise of protest.
It was amusing, the reactions from this boy.
"You look ready," he said, swirling a finger around the pulsing tip.
The boy squeezed his eyes shut, digging his nails into his palms. Causing pain to distract himself? Muraki thought it ironic, considering. Though this agreement would save him some injury, would his pride be able to handle it…?
"Were you and Tsuzuki-san on an assignment?" he asked, careful to sound casual. Small-talk was a necessary skill for any doctor with good bed-side manners. This, however, involve less -side than usual. His left arm hooked a leg up to his shoulder, leaving the boy exposed.
"We… we were just investigating," Hisoka answered, strained.
"Was that all?" Muraki knew evasion when he heard it. He brought his hands against that small entrance again, feeling the body shake with every gentle prod.
"Yes – "
He slipped his middle finger in. "Don't lie to me, boy." He curled a finger, testing. Hisoka cringed and twitched, his legs instinctively trying to move together and his muscles clamping down.
"I'm not!" he wheezed, adamant. "There was another case… they bought something dangerous, and we traced it back here. We were just going to look around and get out – "
"Very well," Muraki answered. It did not matter, anyhow. He pressed in another finger, moving in long strokes to stretch and widen him. "Awase's men did a good job cleaning you."
Hisoka looked downright embarrassed by that comment. His cheeks flushed and he turned his head away without a word.
"It seems they were very thorough. Did they do anything else to you?" he asked with almost medical curiosity.
"No."
"Did you want them to?"
"No!"
That was fine. Muraki did not want anyone else tainting his memory of a moonlit night.
He removed his hand to take more of the lubricant (the boy was relieved at the short respite). His own large erection strained, hot to the touch, as he coated himself. He pressed against that dark entrance.
Wide, green eyes stare up at him, and Muraki almost smiled. This was beauty: the boy, his emotions so plain and raw on his face, so horrified about something that could be so welcomed if it were another context, and his body shaking with anticipation – with expectation. The man planned to oblige every one of those expectations.
Muraki also looked forward to Tsuzuki's expression when he told him.
"Relax," he advised. Bending forward, he pushed in.
He moved with the boy at first, slowly and deliberately gentle – but still, Hisoka's face was contorted in agony.
"Ah – stop – "
The man paid no heed. "What do you want?" he asked darkly, rapidly increasing his pace.
He squirmed and tried to back up, but strong arms held him down. Muraki forced the thin legs both over his shoulders – lifting the boy nearly half off the bed.
"No…!" Hisoka's mouth was open, and gasped for air. His hair was sprawled out like a messy halo, sweat dotting his temple.
The man's erection pulsed at the sight. He roughly shoved his whole length down into him, again demanding, "What do you want?"
"Nothing! I don't know!" he cried. "You said you wouldn't – "
"Do you want to go faster?"
He shook his head, teeth pressing together so hard they threatened to break.
"Then say it!" he ordered.
"Slower!" Hisoka broke out, a sob catching his breath. He was being defiant now, trying to buck with the thrusts in a vague notion that he would feel less.
"Slower?" Muraki inquired.
The boy seethed. "Y-yes…
Immediately, the doctor's movements became less erratic, more careful. He relaxed his hold for a moment to run fingers up the finely muscled chest and ribs. He toyed with the dip of the bellybutton, before coming to grasp the boy's hardened shaft. It was still slippery.
Muraki breathed deep the wet, musky air around them. He would make this feel good – wonderful, even. Something neither of them would forget. It was only fitting for their first, personal encounter after those years.
He was sure he was the boy's first and only time.
He would make sure there would be no one else.
Hisoka closed his eyes now, letting the man set the rhythm though his face remained unchangeably rigid. Muraki pumped him in time with his own thrusts, squeezing the foreskin down to expose a very sensitive, reddened tip. The boy was fighting his body's reaction, flinching against the tide.
"Let go," Muraki told him, "and it will end quicker." He pushed again, wedging himself deeply into the hot, slick hole, and reached as far into the center as he could. He was on the verge of that climax, himself.
The boy's brows furrowed in concentration. Swallowing hard, Hisoka arched up and came. He spilled onto the pale hand, each outpouring of silky liquid seeming to drain his young body of strength. And when he cried out, it almost sounded relieved.
He collapsed against the mattress, panting, though Muraki still thrust into him. The man growled, finally losing himself to the act. The bed shook with his movements and only stopped when he, too, came.
They lingered in the moment, just feeling.
And when he laid on top of Hisoka, satisfied, he purred into his ear, "The first betrayal."
He turned away.