[Fic] The Noose. - 1/?
Title:The Noose.
Status: Incomplete. (1/?)
Series: Gin to Kin (Silver and Gold)
Rating: NC-17 (non-con, rape, angst)
Pairings: MoriGin, Henchmen x Morita
Warnings: Rape, man-handling, boring finance, some more rape, and some hurt.
Disclaimer: These gawjus characters belong to Noboyuki Fukumoto.
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The muzzle of a hand gun pressed itself into the side of his temple, the cold black
steel vibrating sharply against the exposed flesh as the safety was unlocked.
Morita froze in the heat of the moment prior, his assailants were angry. Very, very
angry.
"Where is he?" One of the three men asked, pressing his face close enough against
Morita's to which the words themselves breathed a heated and uncomfortable current
down his cheek. Morita shivered ,exhaling a shaky breath he forgot he was
holding...
This wasn't good. These men... They came looking for Ginji. Morita had been idling
in his employer's penthouse apartment, waiting for the elder man to return with
some critical information and negotiations made with another important firm that
was suffering monetary issues. Ginji had brought Tatsumi and Funada with him,
Yasuda playing the roll of the 'get-away' if their situation turned dark. Ginji
informed the pony-tailed man that he had enough support for what seemed like an
opened and closed case, so he told Morita to just wait there. It wouldn't take
long...
What Morita didn't expect was the lock to be picked and having to face off with
three strange men he'd never seen before. Several seconds of rough-housing proved
to be futile when the cold steel was finally pressed against him,
"Don't make me repeat myself." The man asked again, his other hand came up to grasp
Morita's scalp, forcefully turning the suppressed man's gaze to look up,
"I don't know what you're talking about." Morita ground his teeth as he tried to
remain as calm as he could, eyes boring into the other man's out of sheer hatred.
"Bullshit." The man scowled and dug his fingers harder into his scalp. He tilted
Morita's head back painfully, his words and breath coming deathly close again,
"Seems like Ginji's dogs don't like talking, what do we do with this one?"
"It'd be a shame just to blow his brains out" Said one of the other men in the
background, laughing, "He's got nice long hair, almost like a woman."
"You're right, it is nice." The hand clenching Morita's scalp softened, almost
stroking his hair, "I wonder what Ginji would do if we break one of his dogs
instead... Might be fun, eh, boys?"
There is a chorus of sick, low laughter that radiates through the apartment.
Morita's stomach sinks, he cringes as he realizes what they meant... The hand that
was stroking his hair now slides down to clench the bottom of his square jaw,
"You wont enjoy this."
Suddenly, the swift force of a knee contacting with Morita's stomach sent him
falling to the floor, his mouth gaping from the new pain and lost wind. Hands are
tearing at him---more than two--- pulling at his collar and jacket. Morita tried to
resist, flailing before more hands took hold of his wrists and shoulders, his
wrists are then forced behind his back and bound tightly. Another pair of hands is
loosening his collar and pushing the buttons open...
"S-stop..!" Morita wheezes, kicking the man toying with his collar in the knees.
This earned him a yelp, then a punch to the face before it was slammed into the
carpet,
"This fucker is ornery, boss!"
"Just remind him where he belongs," There's a shoe replacing the hand holding his
head to the floor, the pressure much stronger, "We can just go back to blowing your
fucking brains out instead. I don't think Ginji will appreciate the mess on his
carpet."
Morita is shaking violently, Blood dripping from his mouth and nose from his fresh
wound, his anger and fear mixing into each other as he struggled to breathe. He
didn't respond to the threat but did not resist the rest of the following actions
made on his person. When a hand began to caress a part of his exposed chest, he
shuddered and squirmed again,
"N...N-no..." Morita breathes heavily, the contact causing his face to warm and
then burn painfully against his bruises. He can feel the warm breath all around
him, three pairs of hands caressing or forcing a part of him to the floor on his
back. They're laughing at him as he clenches his eyes shut, their hands pressing
against his body in a way that flushed his skin and stirred unwanted feelings
inside of him.
Oh God..What the fuck can I do..?! Hot liquid blurred and stung his eyes,
trying to suppress it and the unwanted, growing arousal that began to ebb into the
back of his consciousness. How can I... His beeper. Ginji gave it to him a
whiles back for business purposes. Morita could reach his beeper if he could move
his wrist a little, but they were bound so tightly together, it was difficult to
position them right... All of the men assaulting him seemed to be busy enough to
not be watching his hands anyways.
One of them had their large palm pressed against his chest, teasing and rubbing one
of his nipples with two fingers. The sensation readily evident on his flushed face,
sweating, distracting his mind from its current concentration. A pitiful moan
escapes through the sides of his clenched jaw, other hands painfully prodding and
tugging at his skin and clothing...
The reality of this nightmare slowly sank in. He really needed help.
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"I hope the terms of this agreement are clear with you and your operatives."
"We can't thank you enough for your support, Hirai-sama."
It was indeed an open and closed case. Just like many before it, the Silver King
gained a new found trust from the men grovelling at his feet as he generously
'donated' his wealth to them. However, it was the bond that was most important,
which he could use or manipulate in the future if and when a need ever arises. To
build a healthy empire, one must have loyal and loving subjects. A wry smile twists
itself onto the aged face, his dimples creasing,
"Then I suppose we can draw up your contra--"
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Ginji pauses in mid sentence, his eyes drifting towards the side of his waist where
a small contraption began to blare at him audibly, "I'm sorry, that's mine. One
moment..." He unclicks the small beeper from his belt and looks at it... His eyes
narrow when he realizes that the call number was Morita's, but what he saw next
made his brow furrow;
It was blank.
He stares at it silently for a long moment, trying to fathom why Morita would send
him a blank message. He explicitly told the younger man only to use the thing for
emergencies and if it was an emergency, to leave a special set of numbers... But
this one was...Blank. An uncomfortable feeling washes over the elder man as he
thinks about it more, fingering his beeper as he read the call number multiple
times,
"Hirai-sama..?"
The voice of his client brings him out of his short musings for a moment but the
feeling wouldn't leave him alone... Something is wrong. Ginji looks over at
Tatsumi and Funada sitting next to him, his eyes harden and they instantly can see
something wasn't right,
"I'm sorry, something urgent just came up, I need to leave immediately. Tatsumi-san
and Funada-san are more than able to finish up our agreements, I hope you
understand. I'm sorry for this inconvenience." Ginji rises from his seat and tilts
his head forward in a short bow, looking over at his two partners once again. He
knew something had to be wrong, he just had to see for himself.
"Morita..."
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Everything hurts. His wrists are bleeding and raw under their bindings, pulsating.
His stomach and ligaments became subject to further assault; bitten, scratched,
kicked. His opened shirt was torn, forest green jacket curled over his shoulders,
giving him his only padding support as his body was slammed into over and over...
Morita couldn't remember how long it had been, or how long ago he had ever felt
such terrible pain. He had been shot and stabbed quite a fair share through his
'career'--- but never sexually abused. More painful than the loose shrapnel tearing
at flesh, it physically and mentally invaded him, causing stars and spots to dance
over his vision, his mouth uttering disgusting and pitiful noises he couldn't keep
inside. The hot sting of tears blended in with the blood and sweat trailing down
his body, quivering breath that gave no support to his screaming lungs...
He wanted to die. He wanted them to just kill him after this, the experience so
vile and degrading... It didn't stop. When he felt one of them leave his body with
a sickening squelch, another filled its place and began tearing at him again with
new, livid force.
He cried out. They laughed. It hurt even more.
Where are you Ginji...?
Eyes clench shut, praying and willing his swift death or immediate intervention...
Nothing came.
Nobody was there.
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The first thing Ginji noticed as he turned down the hall was that his door was left
open. A swarm of potential and drastic situations crossed his mind immediately in
an irrational manner, the situations causing his brow to furrow deeper. Ginji
instinctively pulled out a small hand gun from his waist before approaching his
door cautiously... He peered around the corner slowly, noticing that nobody was
inside. He let his gaze drift back to the handle of the door, noting the new
visible strain against the wood and metal---there was a forced entry.
They might still be in there.
Taking a few silent and cautious steps down his own hallway, he turned the corner
and took in the sight of his lit living room. A few pieces of furniture had been
turned over or were broken, trails of shattered porcelain and glass speckled the
floor, the blinds were closed... Then he saw the blood. The dark splotches of crimson
shown visibly on his light carpeting, trailing back to a strange mass keeled over
on its side on the floor... More blood. Forest green jacket.Long hair.
Ginji's eyes widen.
Oh God.
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.
Ginji hurriedly makes his way over to his fallen protege, gun clattering to the
floor. He sinks to his knees, his hands shaking as they loomed inches above the
barely audible figure. He finally turns the man gently so he can see him on his
side... What he saw mortified him.
Blood seeped down and over Morita's face, down his mouth ---which was closed with
silver duct tape--- and parts of his exposed chest. His shirt was opened and
ripped, large purple bruises forming over his abdomen, shoulders, and neck.His
slacks were also open, exposing him inappropriately, more bruising and blood
evident on the strip on uncovered flesh... It's also on his thighs, his chest, his
face, a thick opaque liquid that began to mesh with the blood and sweat... He was
crying. His eyes were distant and red under the fluid, the silent tears screaming
at Ginji as the elder man's fears began to surface more vividly,
"Oh God..." Ginji shuddered, his bottom lip open and quivering. He cringed
when he saw Morita's bound wrists, hurriedly digging through his pockets to find
his pocket knife. The blood soaked chords are cut away, releasing their painful
hold on Morita's arms. His arms deftly sank to the floor, the release not seeming
to add any comfort. Ginji slowly peels back the duct tape that was pressed against
Morita's mouth, he's met with a ragged gasp for air as the tape is discarded,
"Morit-...Oh, God. Fucking Shit..." The Silver King's eyes are wild, brow
curling in pain as he bared his clenched teeth.
This was a nightmare. He wanted to wake up and not see his partner beaten, bruised,
and broken on his carpet. He could only stare out of severe shock, his hands
uncertain what to do. Morita was in pain. Who had done this? What happened to
him...? They raped your partner, that's what HAPPENED, Ginji.
Morita presses one of his bloody wrists onto the floor, trying to push himself up.
Ginji notices the movement and gently wraps an arm around the younger man's shoulder
to help him sit up right. Morita is trembling violently under Ginji's arm, his
breath shallow, hollow,
"G...Ginji..." Morita chokes, his body finally leaning heavily into the other man.
He's pressing his forehead against Ginji's chest, the embrace is frightening to his
abused body, but he couldn't think of doing anything else. He finally broke down. A
shuddered, muffled sob escapes his mouth before Morita feels both arms clenching
onto him tightly,
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have left you alone..."
Ginji's voice made his body tremble even more out of shame and the indecency of the
queer moment. Morita couldn't stop crying. He wanted to know who those men were,
why they were after Ginji, and why Ginji hadn't come sooner. He tried to pronounce
the words, but all that came out of his mouth were choked and illiterate gasps and
sobs. The elder man was shaking as hard as Morita was, whispering 'I'm sorry' and
other faint words over and over, rubbing Morita's back softly.
When the sobs had died away, the elder man dared to pull away and look at Morita
again, his eyes resting on his raw wrists,
"You're...You...re...A mess." Ginji breathes, helping Morita up slowly, "We need to
get you to the hospital..."
"No...!" Morita wheezed as he stood, leaning heavily again on Ginji as vertigo sank
in, "I...No...I can't..." He didn't want anyone to know what happened to him,
especially doctors. It was bad enough Ginji found him bound, exposed, bleeding, and
crying on his floor. One too many people. "...No..."
"It's okay," No. It wasn't okay, "I just want to help you...Come with me."
Ginji whispers softly, his mind is racing, bordering hysteria and rage. He slowly
leads Morita into his large bathroom.
He flips the nozzle on the tub to start dispensing warm water. Ginji helps Morita
pull off his jacket and torn shirt, sitting the younger man down in a chair near
the tub. He looks over Morita's frame slowly, making sure that he wasn't actually
stabbed or shot, taking note of every cut and bruise. The massive cluster of
bruises near his abdominal region concerned him the most, Worried that some of his
ribs might be fractured or even completely broken. The dotted patterns, impressions
made by teeth, trailed along the rest of the bruising, some slick with blood. The
rage inside of Ginji burned deeper, as he could only imagine how Morita felt.
When the tub was completely filled, Ginji turned the water off, looking away from
Morita,
"I can, leave if you want... I'll wait outside." He closed his eyes, listening to
the irregular rise and fall of Morita's breathing. When there was no response, he
sighed, "Just right out here." Ginji feigned a smile and began to walk out the door
when a trembling hand grabbed his wrist. It must have hurt quite a deal to exhert
his wrist that way, because Morita cringed outwardly as he tightened his grip,
"Don't...!"
"I'm right here, I'm sorry. I won't leave." The silver haired man cut Morita off,
gently loosening the younger man's hand, making sure not to twist or or move his
wrist as he set it back down, "Let's get you in the water... It will help with the
swelling..."
His heart was breaking slowly.
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It was like watching a man die in your arms, yet, it felt even worse. Their breath
slow, a sliver of warmth expelling in visible wisps of air. In that moment, that
visible trace of what life they had left, you could see the soul escaping. The
difference was that this man before him was still 'alive', soul departed long
before he got there.
Ginji was at a loss. He regretfully had experienced and seen many deaths in his
lifetime, some of them grasping onto his very collar and hands as they departed.
Yet, the memory of their faces, their anguish, felt like nothing compared to what
he saw tonight, what he's witnessing now.
The Silver King pressed a damp cloth against the open wound on Morita's face. The
younger man flinched on contact (but not out of pain),
"It's okay. I wont hurt you." Ginji really didn't know what to say, or even if it
was okay to even be there.
However, Several earlier attempts by Morita to clean his own wounds found them both
shaken; heads were keeled mere centimeters away from warm water after a fit of
frustration. Morita's wrists were now completely swollen, soaking reluctantly at
his sides as he let the elder man tend to him. He couldn't help but flinch every
time callused skin came in contact with his own, the friction causing his eyes to
burn and his wrists to throb. Whenever it happened, the elder man would apologize
and reassured him of nothing in particular. A layer of guilt was adding to Morita's
flurry of emotions, the one that made his stomach sink when he turned his head to
meet his company.
Ginji looked...Disturbed. A rare emotion that he had only seen twice on the man's
face. There was something else hidden behind his eyes, a dark feeling that Morita
somehow knew wasn't directed at him... Rather, the culprits responsible?... Or
maybe even Ginji himself. He was just as lost as Morita, his movements and speech
faltering, his hands gentle, retracted immediately when he felt like they had done
something wrong. He would apologize and turn his face away for a moment in an
effort to collect or restrain something.
"I'm sorry," Morita whispered, the warm water rippling against him, "that you...
Came home to this." He looked down at the water curling his brow, a painful smile
ghosting the sides of his lips. Ginji grew still for a moment, the cloth in his hands
fell into the tub with a small splash as both of his cautious but gentle hands were
placed softly on top of Morita's shoulders, just barely touching,
"Don't ever say that again." The elder man said quietly to his downcast partner,
"This is---,fuck." He's now hanging his own head, trying to suppress an errant
emotion that was tearing at his heart and vision, "This is my fault." He leans in
slowly, not caring if Morita was looking at him or even paying attention,
"I'm going to help you through this."
Ginji needed a smoke. Badly.
----------------------------------------------------
Sorry if there's any really bad mistakes!
I've got a ton of things to do, but I wanted to get this out here before I buried myself in them again. Some of them involve a lot of artwork for friends and family, a FKMT art website I am making (FINALLY), an artpost Livejournal, and getting drunk in between. <3
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Status: Incomplete. (1/?)
Series: Gin to Kin (Silver and Gold)
Rating: NC-17 (non-con, rape, angst)
Pairings: MoriGin, Henchmen x Morita
Warnings: Rape, man-handling, boring finance, some more rape, and some hurt.
Disclaimer: These gawjus characters belong to Noboyuki Fukumoto.
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The muzzle of a hand gun pressed itself into the side of his temple, the cold black
steel vibrating sharply against the exposed flesh as the safety was unlocked.
Morita froze in the heat of the moment prior, his assailants were angry. Very, very
angry.
"Where is he?" One of the three men asked, pressing his face close enough against
Morita's to which the words themselves breathed a heated and uncomfortable current
down his cheek. Morita shivered ,exhaling a shaky breath he forgot he was
holding...
This wasn't good. These men... They came looking for Ginji. Morita had been idling
in his employer's penthouse apartment, waiting for the elder man to return with
some critical information and negotiations made with another important firm that
was suffering monetary issues. Ginji had brought Tatsumi and Funada with him,
Yasuda playing the roll of the 'get-away' if their situation turned dark. Ginji
informed the pony-tailed man that he had enough support for what seemed like an
opened and closed case, so he told Morita to just wait there. It wouldn't take
long...
What Morita didn't expect was the lock to be picked and having to face off with
three strange men he'd never seen before. Several seconds of rough-housing proved
to be futile when the cold steel was finally pressed against him,
"Don't make me repeat myself." The man asked again, his other hand came up to grasp
Morita's scalp, forcefully turning the suppressed man's gaze to look up,
"I don't know what you're talking about." Morita ground his teeth as he tried to
remain as calm as he could, eyes boring into the other man's out of sheer hatred.
"Bullshit." The man scowled and dug his fingers harder into his scalp. He tilted
Morita's head back painfully, his words and breath coming deathly close again,
"Seems like Ginji's dogs don't like talking, what do we do with this one?"
"It'd be a shame just to blow his brains out" Said one of the other men in the
background, laughing, "He's got nice long hair, almost like a woman."
"You're right, it is nice." The hand clenching Morita's scalp softened, almost
stroking his hair, "I wonder what Ginji would do if we break one of his dogs
instead... Might be fun, eh, boys?"
There is a chorus of sick, low laughter that radiates through the apartment.
Morita's stomach sinks, he cringes as he realizes what they meant... The hand that
was stroking his hair now slides down to clench the bottom of his square jaw,
"You wont enjoy this."
Suddenly, the swift force of a knee contacting with Morita's stomach sent him
falling to the floor, his mouth gaping from the new pain and lost wind. Hands are
tearing at him---more than two--- pulling at his collar and jacket. Morita tried to
resist, flailing before more hands took hold of his wrists and shoulders, his
wrists are then forced behind his back and bound tightly. Another pair of hands is
loosening his collar and pushing the buttons open...
"S-stop..!" Morita wheezes, kicking the man toying with his collar in the knees.
This earned him a yelp, then a punch to the face before it was slammed into the
carpet,
"This fucker is ornery, boss!"
"Just remind him where he belongs," There's a shoe replacing the hand holding his
head to the floor, the pressure much stronger, "We can just go back to blowing your
fucking brains out instead. I don't think Ginji will appreciate the mess on his
carpet."
Morita is shaking violently, Blood dripping from his mouth and nose from his fresh
wound, his anger and fear mixing into each other as he struggled to breathe. He
didn't respond to the threat but did not resist the rest of the following actions
made on his person. When a hand began to caress a part of his exposed chest, he
shuddered and squirmed again,
"N...N-no..." Morita breathes heavily, the contact causing his face to warm and
then burn painfully against his bruises. He can feel the warm breath all around
him, three pairs of hands caressing or forcing a part of him to the floor on his
back. They're laughing at him as he clenches his eyes shut, their hands pressing
against his body in a way that flushed his skin and stirred unwanted feelings
inside of him.
Oh God..What the fuck can I do..?! Hot liquid blurred and stung his eyes,
trying to suppress it and the unwanted, growing arousal that began to ebb into the
back of his consciousness. How can I... His beeper. Ginji gave it to him a
whiles back for business purposes. Morita could reach his beeper if he could move
his wrist a little, but they were bound so tightly together, it was difficult to
position them right... All of the men assaulting him seemed to be busy enough to
not be watching his hands anyways.
One of them had their large palm pressed against his chest, teasing and rubbing one
of his nipples with two fingers. The sensation readily evident on his flushed face,
sweating, distracting his mind from its current concentration. A pitiful moan
escapes through the sides of his clenched jaw, other hands painfully prodding and
tugging at his skin and clothing...
The reality of this nightmare slowly sank in. He really needed help.
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"I hope the terms of this agreement are clear with you and your operatives."
"We can't thank you enough for your support, Hirai-sama."
It was indeed an open and closed case. Just like many before it, the Silver King
gained a new found trust from the men grovelling at his feet as he generously
'donated' his wealth to them. However, it was the bond that was most important,
which he could use or manipulate in the future if and when a need ever arises. To
build a healthy empire, one must have loyal and loving subjects. A wry smile twists
itself onto the aged face, his dimples creasing,
"Then I suppose we can draw up your contra--"
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Ginji pauses in mid sentence, his eyes drifting towards the side of his waist where
a small contraption began to blare at him audibly, "I'm sorry, that's mine. One
moment..." He unclicks the small beeper from his belt and looks at it... His eyes
narrow when he realizes that the call number was Morita's, but what he saw next
made his brow furrow;
It was blank.
He stares at it silently for a long moment, trying to fathom why Morita would send
him a blank message. He explicitly told the younger man only to use the thing for
emergencies and if it was an emergency, to leave a special set of numbers... But
this one was...Blank. An uncomfortable feeling washes over the elder man as he
thinks about it more, fingering his beeper as he read the call number multiple
times,
"Hirai-sama..?"
The voice of his client brings him out of his short musings for a moment but the
feeling wouldn't leave him alone... Something is wrong. Ginji looks over at
Tatsumi and Funada sitting next to him, his eyes harden and they instantly can see
something wasn't right,
"I'm sorry, something urgent just came up, I need to leave immediately. Tatsumi-san
and Funada-san are more than able to finish up our agreements, I hope you
understand. I'm sorry for this inconvenience." Ginji rises from his seat and tilts
his head forward in a short bow, looking over at his two partners once again. He
knew something had to be wrong, he just had to see for himself.
"Morita..."
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Everything hurts. His wrists are bleeding and raw under their bindings, pulsating.
His stomach and ligaments became subject to further assault; bitten, scratched,
kicked. His opened shirt was torn, forest green jacket curled over his shoulders,
giving him his only padding support as his body was slammed into over and over...
Morita couldn't remember how long it had been, or how long ago he had ever felt
such terrible pain. He had been shot and stabbed quite a fair share through his
'career'--- but never sexually abused. More painful than the loose shrapnel tearing
at flesh, it physically and mentally invaded him, causing stars and spots to dance
over his vision, his mouth uttering disgusting and pitiful noises he couldn't keep
inside. The hot sting of tears blended in with the blood and sweat trailing down
his body, quivering breath that gave no support to his screaming lungs...
He wanted to die. He wanted them to just kill him after this, the experience so
vile and degrading... It didn't stop. When he felt one of them leave his body with
a sickening squelch, another filled its place and began tearing at him again with
new, livid force.
He cried out. They laughed. It hurt even more.
Where are you Ginji...?
Eyes clench shut, praying and willing his swift death or immediate intervention...
Nothing came.
Nobody was there.
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The first thing Ginji noticed as he turned down the hall was that his door was left
open. A swarm of potential and drastic situations crossed his mind immediately in
an irrational manner, the situations causing his brow to furrow deeper. Ginji
instinctively pulled out a small hand gun from his waist before approaching his
door cautiously... He peered around the corner slowly, noticing that nobody was
inside. He let his gaze drift back to the handle of the door, noting the new
visible strain against the wood and metal---there was a forced entry.
They might still be in there.
Taking a few silent and cautious steps down his own hallway, he turned the corner
and took in the sight of his lit living room. A few pieces of furniture had been
turned over or were broken, trails of shattered porcelain and glass speckled the
floor, the blinds were closed... Then he saw the blood. The dark splotches of crimson
shown visibly on his light carpeting, trailing back to a strange mass keeled over
on its side on the floor... More blood. Forest green jacket.Long hair.
Ginji's eyes widen.
Oh God.
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.
Ginji hurriedly makes his way over to his fallen protege, gun clattering to the
floor. He sinks to his knees, his hands shaking as they loomed inches above the
barely audible figure. He finally turns the man gently so he can see him on his
side... What he saw mortified him.
Blood seeped down and over Morita's face, down his mouth ---which was closed with
silver duct tape--- and parts of his exposed chest. His shirt was opened and
ripped, large purple bruises forming over his abdomen, shoulders, and neck.His
slacks were also open, exposing him inappropriately, more bruising and blood
evident on the strip on uncovered flesh... It's also on his thighs, his chest, his
face, a thick opaque liquid that began to mesh with the blood and sweat... He was
crying. His eyes were distant and red under the fluid, the silent tears screaming
at Ginji as the elder man's fears began to surface more vividly,
"Oh God..." Ginji shuddered, his bottom lip open and quivering. He cringed
when he saw Morita's bound wrists, hurriedly digging through his pockets to find
his pocket knife. The blood soaked chords are cut away, releasing their painful
hold on Morita's arms. His arms deftly sank to the floor, the release not seeming
to add any comfort. Ginji slowly peels back the duct tape that was pressed against
Morita's mouth, he's met with a ragged gasp for air as the tape is discarded,
"Morit-...Oh, God. Fucking Shit..." The Silver King's eyes are wild, brow
curling in pain as he bared his clenched teeth.
This was a nightmare. He wanted to wake up and not see his partner beaten, bruised,
and broken on his carpet. He could only stare out of severe shock, his hands
uncertain what to do. Morita was in pain. Who had done this? What happened to
him...? They raped your partner, that's what HAPPENED, Ginji.
Morita presses one of his bloody wrists onto the floor, trying to push himself up.
Ginji notices the movement and gently wraps an arm around the younger man's shoulder
to help him sit up right. Morita is trembling violently under Ginji's arm, his
breath shallow, hollow,
"G...Ginji..." Morita chokes, his body finally leaning heavily into the other man.
He's pressing his forehead against Ginji's chest, the embrace is frightening to his
abused body, but he couldn't think of doing anything else. He finally broke down. A
shuddered, muffled sob escapes his mouth before Morita feels both arms clenching
onto him tightly,
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have left you alone..."
Ginji's voice made his body tremble even more out of shame and the indecency of the
queer moment. Morita couldn't stop crying. He wanted to know who those men were,
why they were after Ginji, and why Ginji hadn't come sooner. He tried to pronounce
the words, but all that came out of his mouth were choked and illiterate gasps and
sobs. The elder man was shaking as hard as Morita was, whispering 'I'm sorry' and
other faint words over and over, rubbing Morita's back softly.
When the sobs had died away, the elder man dared to pull away and look at Morita
again, his eyes resting on his raw wrists,
"You're...You...re...A mess." Ginji breathes, helping Morita up slowly, "We need to
get you to the hospital..."
"No...!" Morita wheezed as he stood, leaning heavily again on Ginji as vertigo sank
in, "I...No...I can't..." He didn't want anyone to know what happened to him,
especially doctors. It was bad enough Ginji found him bound, exposed, bleeding, and
crying on his floor. One too many people. "...No..."
"It's okay," No. It wasn't okay, "I just want to help you...Come with me."
Ginji whispers softly, his mind is racing, bordering hysteria and rage. He slowly
leads Morita into his large bathroom.
He flips the nozzle on the tub to start dispensing warm water. Ginji helps Morita
pull off his jacket and torn shirt, sitting the younger man down in a chair near
the tub. He looks over Morita's frame slowly, making sure that he wasn't actually
stabbed or shot, taking note of every cut and bruise. The massive cluster of
bruises near his abdominal region concerned him the most, Worried that some of his
ribs might be fractured or even completely broken. The dotted patterns, impressions
made by teeth, trailed along the rest of the bruising, some slick with blood. The
rage inside of Ginji burned deeper, as he could only imagine how Morita felt.
When the tub was completely filled, Ginji turned the water off, looking away from
Morita,
"I can, leave if you want... I'll wait outside." He closed his eyes, listening to
the irregular rise and fall of Morita's breathing. When there was no response, he
sighed, "Just right out here." Ginji feigned a smile and began to walk out the door
when a trembling hand grabbed his wrist. It must have hurt quite a deal to exhert
his wrist that way, because Morita cringed outwardly as he tightened his grip,
"Don't...!"
"I'm right here, I'm sorry. I won't leave." The silver haired man cut Morita off,
gently loosening the younger man's hand, making sure not to twist or or move his
wrist as he set it back down, "Let's get you in the water... It will help with the
swelling..."
His heart was breaking slowly.
-----------ZAWAZAWAZAWAZAWAZAWAZAWAZAWAZAWA-----------
It was like watching a man die in your arms, yet, it felt even worse. Their breath
slow, a sliver of warmth expelling in visible wisps of air. In that moment, that
visible trace of what life they had left, you could see the soul escaping. The
difference was that this man before him was still 'alive', soul departed long
before he got there.
Ginji was at a loss. He regretfully had experienced and seen many deaths in his
lifetime, some of them grasping onto his very collar and hands as they departed.
Yet, the memory of their faces, their anguish, felt like nothing compared to what
he saw tonight, what he's witnessing now.
The Silver King pressed a damp cloth against the open wound on Morita's face. The
younger man flinched on contact (but not out of pain),
"It's okay. I wont hurt you." Ginji really didn't know what to say, or even if it
was okay to even be there.
However, Several earlier attempts by Morita to clean his own wounds found them both
shaken; heads were keeled mere centimeters away from warm water after a fit of
frustration. Morita's wrists were now completely swollen, soaking reluctantly at
his sides as he let the elder man tend to him. He couldn't help but flinch every
time callused skin came in contact with his own, the friction causing his eyes to
burn and his wrists to throb. Whenever it happened, the elder man would apologize
and reassured him of nothing in particular. A layer of guilt was adding to Morita's
flurry of emotions, the one that made his stomach sink when he turned his head to
meet his company.
Ginji looked...Disturbed. A rare emotion that he had only seen twice on the man's
face. There was something else hidden behind his eyes, a dark feeling that Morita
somehow knew wasn't directed at him... Rather, the culprits responsible?... Or
maybe even Ginji himself. He was just as lost as Morita, his movements and speech
faltering, his hands gentle, retracted immediately when he felt like they had done
something wrong. He would apologize and turn his face away for a moment in an
effort to collect or restrain something.
"I'm sorry," Morita whispered, the warm water rippling against him, "that you...
Came home to this." He looked down at the water curling his brow, a painful smile
ghosting the sides of his lips. Ginji grew still for a moment, the cloth in his hands
fell into the tub with a small splash as both of his cautious but gentle hands were
placed softly on top of Morita's shoulders, just barely touching,
"Don't ever say that again." The elder man said quietly to his downcast partner,
"This is---,fuck." He's now hanging his own head, trying to suppress an errant
emotion that was tearing at his heart and vision, "This is my fault." He leans in
slowly, not caring if Morita was looking at him or even paying attention,
"I'm going to help you through this."
Ginji needed a smoke. Badly.
----------------------------------------------------
Sorry if there's any really bad mistakes!
I've got a ton of things to do, but I wanted to get this out here before I buried myself in them again. Some of them involve a lot of artwork for friends and family, a FKMT art website I am making (FINALLY), an artpost Livejournal, and getting drunk in between. <3
Merry Christmas, everyone!