Prompt: Jesus—we’re not in Wonderland anymore.
Warnings: Violence, sexual content, BDSM and D/s themes, dub-con, shota.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Ruki (the GazettE)/Soubi (Loveless)/Ritsuka (Loveless), mentions of Seimei (Loveless).
Word Count: 500
Notes: JRock/anime crossover for adronicus, cos she gave me the prompt. I’m sure this isn’t what she had in mind, but this is what popped into my head and I tried. I apologize for the fail in advance. I’m not even posting this anywhere else. XD
Ritsuka can’t remember how he managed to get himself into this situation. He can only recall blurred and fragmented details. The images come flooding back to him in bits and pieces, and these memories are like what you see when you’re trying to blink water out of your eyes.
He remembers unfamiliar blonde hair and blue eyes. He remembers hands (not Soubi’s) touching him, and remembers those same hands touching Soubi, too.
Now here he is, naked and kneeling in place on a floor that he’s never seen before, black silk around his wrists and something cold and equally as unfamiliar on his thighs, keeping them spread.
The same material that binds Ritsuka’s wrists covers Soubi’s eyes. Soubi is also naked and kneeling in a similar position, right across from Ritsuka.
The blonde stranger is in the room with them, too. Of course, he has to be, because he’s the one that brought them here, isn’t he? His hand is in Soubi’s hair and he’s pulling, and it looks painful.
“Stop,” Ritsuka says weakly.
The stranger turns to him, a small smile curving his lips. “You have no authority here. Tonight, the only Master in this room is me. You’re not in Wonderland anymore, kitten.”
Ritsuka doesn’t believe in Wonderland, anyway.
The unnamed man pulls harder and Soubi moans Ritsuka’s name. He doesn’t sound afraid or hurt—he sounds….
“He wants you to touch him,” the blonde informs as he rakes the nails of his other hand down Soubi’s chest, leaving deep, red scratches behind. “He’s hard for you.”
Soubi whimpers, and Ritsuka is unprepared for the abrupt something (he can’t identify it because he’s never felt it before) that shoots through him, unbidden and scalding hot and twisting and he doesn’t like it at all but he doesn’t know how to make it stop.
The stranger abruptly releases Soubi and walks to Ritsuka, kneeling in front of him. “Do you like seeing him like this? Helpless and aroused? I’ll show you how to give him what he wants.”
Ritsuka wants to say no, because he’s already told Soubi that he’ll never hurt him, even if pain is what his Fighter desires. He isn’t like this strange man. He isn’t like Seimei. He isn’t.
However, his protest dies in his throat when Soubi says his name again.
“Be a good kitten,” the blonde whispers against his ear, “and I’ll let you touch him. I’ll let you hurt him.” He runs his hands down the front of Ritsuka’s body, fingers dancing teasingly over his abdomen and drifting lower, and Ritsuka arches helplessly into the touch, his body betraying him.
Ritsuka isn’t sure what scares him the most: the promise in the stranger’s words, or the way his own breath hitches at those words. It’s anticipation – albeit unwilling anticipation – that he’s feeling, along with something else—something darker.
Or perhaps what frightens him the most is the sudden sickening realization that he and his brother might not be so different, after all.
Permission to shoot me granted. Seriously. *hides*