FIC: Love Don't Cost A Thing 4/15
Title: Love Don't Cost a Thing
Author: Anestel
Email: candiedinago@gmail.com
Livejournal: anestel
Writing Journal: aijis_muse
Genre: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: AtobexShishido, ShishidoxvariousOMC
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): prostitution, non-con, rape, cross-dressing, minors in sexual situations
Disclaimer: All non-original characters belong to Takeshi Konomi.
Summary: Shishido was never one of the rich kids. When his father loses his job it changed going to Hyotei from difficult to impossible.
Beginning Notes: Well it’s been awhile. Again. I hope it was worth the wait. Comments encourage me to write faster! So please let me hear your thoughts (good and bad). In this chapter some time has passed since the last in case you don’t pick that up >_>. Chu!
Word Count: 1294
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
~
Chapter Four
-About Two Weeks Later-
It would be wrong to say there was a great visible change in Shishido. With him, it was all subtle things that most people merely brushed off as him going through an extended period of foul moods. The regulars were probably the ones that were most perspective to the changes.
Shishido had become less aware. He was slower and prone to cruel fits. Over the past few weeks he’d left Ohtori, Mukahi and Jirou all in tears. He’d nearly gotten into fistfights with Yuushi and Hiyoshi and he had argued numerous times with Atobe. He’d punched anyone or at least shoved anyone that tried to touch him. Atobe was becoming more impatient with Shishido and worried for the boy, but also the welfare of the rest of the team.
Shishido was extremely unstable and everyone had noticed there were new bruises on him everyday. Most people merely assumed they were from fights Shishido had gotten into. Atobe knew better. There was something else going on; he knew that confronting Shishido head on would be a bad idea though. The captain didn’t want his beautiful face rearranged after all.
Shishido had become addicted to heroin and had become so addicted he could barely make it through the school day without his drugs. He wanted to escape from the constant shame and pain he felt. He was dirty and tainted and he hated himself. Still, he was too stubborn and prideful to stop, to ask for help. Even if he would, Netone would never allow it; Shishido had become one of his most valuable assets.
Shishido went home after practice, slipping his shoes off tiredly. He heard his mother call him for dinner and he felt his stomach growl. “I already ate, mother,” Shishido called and moved up the stairs to his room. Netone had told him to lose weight and so Shishido had taken to simply eating a small sandwich at lunch. He was hungry, but the drugs could make him forget that. With that thought he trudged the rest of the way to his room, shoulders squared.
~
The weather was getting cold now and by the time Shishido got to Netone’s early in the morning he felt like he had frostbite on his fingers and toes. His lips felt as if they were blue and his nose was completely numb. He knocked lightly on the rundown apartment door, bouncing on the balls of his feet with his arms wrapped tightly around his waist. The night had been a slow one, leaving him with little to show for the hours pent on the cold streets. He was nervous, Netone had scolded him for bringing in larger amounts than this one.
It was several long moments before Netone opened the door. “Ryo-kun,” he said, looking the boy over. His voice sounded slurred and drunk which made Shishido even more anxious. He fucking hated this…
“Doozo,” Shishido mumbled, bowing his head as he offered the money he had made that night. He had already taken out his share like he was supposed to do each night.
Netone’s bony fingers flipped through the wad of bills, scowling when it was all counted. “Are you joking, slut?” he sneered, backhanding Shishido harshly before pulling him into the dim, dingy apartment.
Shishido bit back a million snarky retorts that came to mind. He was a prostitute, not a slut. If he forgot the difference then his precious pride would be lost to him. That was why he was doing this in the first place, it would all be worthless if he lost his pride now. His cheek was still smarting from Netone’s hand, but now, being trapped in the pimp’s apartment, that was the last worry on his mind.
“Since you want to lie and cheat me, I’ll take it out of your ass. Maybe next time you’ll think twice,” Netone said, stalking towards Shishido. His hand curled into Shishido’s long hair, gripping tightly. He slammed Shishido’s head back into the wall, denting it in. His knee met with Shishido’s abdomen while his free hand stripped Shishido of the black pleather miniskirt and vest. He left the shoes and fishnet thigh-highs on; the outfit didn’t have any underwear to it to speak of.
Shishido shoved at Netone, having doubled over in pain. “Fuck off! I didn’t take any of your money, asshole,” he gritted out, trying to kick the other and escape out the door. He couldn’t follow through with the kick as he saw a glint from Netone’s hand…where had he-…
Netone’s eyes took on a dark, sinister and insane look. Quicker than a snake’s strike he had pinned Shishido to the wall, pressing the knife to his throat, letting it bite into the skin. “Try that again, and I’ll kill you,” he growled, pressing the knife in more, before hastily turning the other around. “Stick your ass out for me, slut.”
Shishido felt bile rise in his throat, but pushed back the fear and pain as he leaned over with his hands pressed to the wall. He wanted to fight and as prideful as he was…death is a foe that can make even the strongest men bow and tremble at times. He was really just a boy; he wasn’t ready to die. He would take the punishment for the wrong he didn’t commit: to save his life.
Netone pressed the blade to Shishido’s neck, undoing his pants easily. He drew out his length, slamming into the boy without warning or preparation.
Shishido was still tight and hot. No matter how many times it happened he was still as tight as the first time. It would hurt so much. His fingers curled into the wall as his already slick passage clenched around Netone’s engorged flesh. “Ah,” he moaned slightly in pain, forcing himself not to move away or scream. The knife was an affective gag when pressed against an already bleeding throat.
Netone chuckled darkly as he thrusted deeply into the brunette’s body. “That’s it, moan for me you little slut,” he taunted, his free hand gripping Shishido’s hip hard enough to leave sore bruises. He never let up, slamming into the other even after his mind went blank white with his climax.
After several torturous minutes Shishido felt the lax member pull out of his body. He heard a command of get out as his clothes and a cloth was shoved at him. Shishido winced as he stood up, not bothering to clean his thighs, they would get dirty again. When he finished dressing he stumbled out and towards home, keeping the cloth pressed to his neck tightly.
When he finally made it home and slipped in the window he shed the clothes quickly. The boy tossed them aside and a minute later was showering. He cleaned his neck and various other injuries he had gotten. He sighed quietly and stepped out of the spray, drying off.
With trembling fingers he put rubbing alcohol on his neck, biting back a scream of agony. Slowly he bandaged his neck after that, wiping his eyes quickly. Shishido shuddered now that that was done. Tiredly, he moved to his drug stash, taking out a needle and fixing himself up. He could barely move from the pain, and he wondered if he might have a cracked rib.
Drugged and exhausted he was awake for an hour before his body gave out. He passed out on the bed, sprawled on his stomach. He’d sleep all the next day and maybe, just maybe he’d feel better in time to work yet again.
Somewhere in him he seemed to plead with any deity there was to help him out of this life. It brought the boy no hope or peace.
TBC…
Author’s Notes:
So, long in coming…what do you think of this chapter? I hope y’all like it!
Comments help me write faster!
Love y’all! ^_^
Author: Anestel
Email: candiedinago@gmail.com
Livejournal: anestel
Writing Journal: aijis_muse
Genre: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: AtobexShishido, ShishidoxvariousOMC
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): prostitution, non-con, rape, cross-dressing, minors in sexual situations
Disclaimer: All non-original characters belong to Takeshi Konomi.
Summary: Shishido was never one of the rich kids. When his father loses his job it changed going to Hyotei from difficult to impossible.
Beginning Notes: Well it’s been awhile. Again. I hope it was worth the wait. Comments encourage me to write faster! So please let me hear your thoughts (good and bad). In this chapter some time has passed since the last in case you don’t pick that up >_>. Chu!
Word Count: 1294
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
~
Chapter Four
-About Two Weeks Later-
It would be wrong to say there was a great visible change in Shishido. With him, it was all subtle things that most people merely brushed off as him going through an extended period of foul moods. The regulars were probably the ones that were most perspective to the changes.
Shishido had become less aware. He was slower and prone to cruel fits. Over the past few weeks he’d left Ohtori, Mukahi and Jirou all in tears. He’d nearly gotten into fistfights with Yuushi and Hiyoshi and he had argued numerous times with Atobe. He’d punched anyone or at least shoved anyone that tried to touch him. Atobe was becoming more impatient with Shishido and worried for the boy, but also the welfare of the rest of the team.
Shishido was extremely unstable and everyone had noticed there were new bruises on him everyday. Most people merely assumed they were from fights Shishido had gotten into. Atobe knew better. There was something else going on; he knew that confronting Shishido head on would be a bad idea though. The captain didn’t want his beautiful face rearranged after all.
Shishido had become addicted to heroin and had become so addicted he could barely make it through the school day without his drugs. He wanted to escape from the constant shame and pain he felt. He was dirty and tainted and he hated himself. Still, he was too stubborn and prideful to stop, to ask for help. Even if he would, Netone would never allow it; Shishido had become one of his most valuable assets.
Shishido went home after practice, slipping his shoes off tiredly. He heard his mother call him for dinner and he felt his stomach growl. “I already ate, mother,” Shishido called and moved up the stairs to his room. Netone had told him to lose weight and so Shishido had taken to simply eating a small sandwich at lunch. He was hungry, but the drugs could make him forget that. With that thought he trudged the rest of the way to his room, shoulders squared.
~
The weather was getting cold now and by the time Shishido got to Netone’s early in the morning he felt like he had frostbite on his fingers and toes. His lips felt as if they were blue and his nose was completely numb. He knocked lightly on the rundown apartment door, bouncing on the balls of his feet with his arms wrapped tightly around his waist. The night had been a slow one, leaving him with little to show for the hours pent on the cold streets. He was nervous, Netone had scolded him for bringing in larger amounts than this one.
It was several long moments before Netone opened the door. “Ryo-kun,” he said, looking the boy over. His voice sounded slurred and drunk which made Shishido even more anxious. He fucking hated this…
“Doozo,” Shishido mumbled, bowing his head as he offered the money he had made that night. He had already taken out his share like he was supposed to do each night.
Netone’s bony fingers flipped through the wad of bills, scowling when it was all counted. “Are you joking, slut?” he sneered, backhanding Shishido harshly before pulling him into the dim, dingy apartment.
Shishido bit back a million snarky retorts that came to mind. He was a prostitute, not a slut. If he forgot the difference then his precious pride would be lost to him. That was why he was doing this in the first place, it would all be worthless if he lost his pride now. His cheek was still smarting from Netone’s hand, but now, being trapped in the pimp’s apartment, that was the last worry on his mind.
“Since you want to lie and cheat me, I’ll take it out of your ass. Maybe next time you’ll think twice,” Netone said, stalking towards Shishido. His hand curled into Shishido’s long hair, gripping tightly. He slammed Shishido’s head back into the wall, denting it in. His knee met with Shishido’s abdomen while his free hand stripped Shishido of the black pleather miniskirt and vest. He left the shoes and fishnet thigh-highs on; the outfit didn’t have any underwear to it to speak of.
Shishido shoved at Netone, having doubled over in pain. “Fuck off! I didn’t take any of your money, asshole,” he gritted out, trying to kick the other and escape out the door. He couldn’t follow through with the kick as he saw a glint from Netone’s hand…where had he-…
Netone’s eyes took on a dark, sinister and insane look. Quicker than a snake’s strike he had pinned Shishido to the wall, pressing the knife to his throat, letting it bite into the skin. “Try that again, and I’ll kill you,” he growled, pressing the knife in more, before hastily turning the other around. “Stick your ass out for me, slut.”
Shishido felt bile rise in his throat, but pushed back the fear and pain as he leaned over with his hands pressed to the wall. He wanted to fight and as prideful as he was…death is a foe that can make even the strongest men bow and tremble at times. He was really just a boy; he wasn’t ready to die. He would take the punishment for the wrong he didn’t commit: to save his life.
Netone pressed the blade to Shishido’s neck, undoing his pants easily. He drew out his length, slamming into the boy without warning or preparation.
Shishido was still tight and hot. No matter how many times it happened he was still as tight as the first time. It would hurt so much. His fingers curled into the wall as his already slick passage clenched around Netone’s engorged flesh. “Ah,” he moaned slightly in pain, forcing himself not to move away or scream. The knife was an affective gag when pressed against an already bleeding throat.
Netone chuckled darkly as he thrusted deeply into the brunette’s body. “That’s it, moan for me you little slut,” he taunted, his free hand gripping Shishido’s hip hard enough to leave sore bruises. He never let up, slamming into the other even after his mind went blank white with his climax.
After several torturous minutes Shishido felt the lax member pull out of his body. He heard a command of get out as his clothes and a cloth was shoved at him. Shishido winced as he stood up, not bothering to clean his thighs, they would get dirty again. When he finished dressing he stumbled out and towards home, keeping the cloth pressed to his neck tightly.
When he finally made it home and slipped in the window he shed the clothes quickly. The boy tossed them aside and a minute later was showering. He cleaned his neck and various other injuries he had gotten. He sighed quietly and stepped out of the spray, drying off.
With trembling fingers he put rubbing alcohol on his neck, biting back a scream of agony. Slowly he bandaged his neck after that, wiping his eyes quickly. Shishido shuddered now that that was done. Tiredly, he moved to his drug stash, taking out a needle and fixing himself up. He could barely move from the pain, and he wondered if he might have a cracked rib.
Drugged and exhausted he was awake for an hour before his body gave out. He passed out on the bed, sprawled on his stomach. He’d sleep all the next day and maybe, just maybe he’d feel better in time to work yet again.
Somewhere in him he seemed to plead with any deity there was to help him out of this life. It brought the boy no hope or peace.
TBC…
Author’s Notes:
So, long in coming…what do you think of this chapter? I hope y’all like it!
Comments help me write faster!
Love y’all! ^_^