In Hora Mortis Nostrae (One-shot)
Title: In Hora Mortis Nostrae (One-shot)
Chapters: n/a
Author: konicoffee
Genre: Psychological Drama
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story.
Warnings: Mental illness, rape, and blasphemous material. Read at your own risk.
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Reita/Kai
Synopsis: Like the devout Catholics that they were, they shunned the little boy who never denied being gay. The boy who never bothered to fight for his alliance with the Lord.
Comments: Inspired by people like matkashi who are brave enough to tell their stories.
“I know what it looks like,” a six-year-old Yutaka said during class. A nun at the Catholic school he attended had just told him and the rest of his class about the underworld, where all sinners go should their souls be unfit for heaven. Sister Agnes looked at the boy, slightly disturbed at his remark.
“How do you know, son?”
A few months ago, he saw an old bowling alley burst into flames before his very eyes. Waves and waves of fire consumed the old building and everyone in it. While the grownups in the area were in panic, doing all they can to stop the fire, a horrified Yutaka watched people he knew burn alive. They were neighbors and family friends. They were people he had just talked to that morning.
He was still there the next morning, when some adults dug a number of unrecognizable bodies from the wreckage. They were all nothing but masses of burnt flesh. About the only thing left intact on their bodies were the expressions of absolute terror on their faces.
“I’ve been there.”
He knew that it was hell, but he didn’t understand why those people were there. They were friends. They were good people. That experience left him with only one friend. He was Yutaka’s only friend.
Until they were eleven.
“I can’t be your friend anymore, Yutaka,” Ren told him. “I can’t be friends with a fag. It’s wrong. You’re going against God.”
“But Ren…”
“I know you’re in love with me,” the boy said. “You’re disgusting. You make me sick. You’re going to hell. I hate you.”
Yutaka did love him. It hurt Yutaka to deny it. And just because he couldn’t bear that sting, everyone in school hated him. Like the devout Catholics that they were, they shunned the little boy who never denied being gay. The boy who never bothered to fight for his alliance with the Lord.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. The buzzing in Yutaka’s ear must have been from the boy who beat him up yesterday.
It didn’t go away until a year after that, while Yutaka was doing his penance in the school chapel. “Oh, my Lord, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee…”
Buzz.
“…and I detest the loss of heaven…”
Buzz.
“…and the pains of hell.”
“You are forgiven, Yutaka.”
The sound of the voice prompted Yutaka to open his eyes. He looked around to see who spoke to him. There was no one. No one.
“Dominus tecum.”
There was no one but himself.
Every day, every night. His mother, his father, his teachers, and his classmates always comfort him. All of them told him kind words, all at the same time. “You’ll be okay.” He always heard them, even when he was all alone. He heard them even while they were right in front of him, showing him scorn.
They all stopped comforting him when he was sixteen.
Sister Therese had asked him to come to the chapel. She instructed him to come alone, as she wanted to have a “heart to heart talk” with him. Yutaka was stunned to find the nun with four men behind her. “Sister…?”
“They’re good looking, aren’t they?” she chirped.
Yutaka didn’t understand what was going on. He shook his head in confusion. “What?”
“You’re homosexual, aren’t you, Yutaka?” The nun’s voice was sharper this time.
The boy knew better than to tell the truth. “No, Sister, I’m not…”
The nun nodded at one of the men. The man paced towards Yutaka and pushed him, making the young boy fall on the floor on his back. Before Yutaka could open his eyes after the impact, the other three men held onto his arms and legs, sealing his movements. Yutaka had not felt the level of fear that he did that moment since the time he watched the old bowling alley burn down. “What are you doing?”
“Not only are you an impure, sodomizing child of Satan,” Sister Therese said coldly, “you are also a liar. You were spotted with a boy from a nearby all-male school.”
One of the men tore at Yutaka’s pants. The large button that secured his pants on his waist popped off, and the zipper ripped undone. Another man covered Yutaka’s mouth, suppressing his frantic screams.
“You were seen kissing the boy,” the nun hissed as she watched the men pull Yutaka’s pants down his ankles and split his dress shirt open. “Have you no shame? Aren’t you ashamed at acting so lewdly in public? Aren’t you mortified at doing such a dirty act before God?”
The cold floor of the school chapel felt razor sharp on his back. The chill on his completely bare skin stabbed him. Tears gushed out from Yutaka’s eyes as one of the men shoved his hard, thick cock into his mouth. Yutaka gagged and struggled for breath as the cock slid mercilessly deeper into his mouth, down his throat. The scream he tried to release came out as a silent, excruciating wheeze.
No…please…stop.
You like it, don’t you, Yutaka?
Stop this, please.
You’re so nasty.
He warred with the voices in his head that were now yelling at him so loud that it made him dizzy. He couldn’t count how many were speaking to him, jeering at him. It felt like everyone he knew, everyone whose voice he had heard within this lifetime, was talking to him at unbearable frequencies.
None of them comforted him. None.
With one man’s cock thrashing onto his voice box, Yutaka felt hands grip on the undersides of his knees. The hands pushed, lifting his legs, raising his hips, peeling the skin of his lower back off the hard, cold tiles of the chapel floor. He heard what sounded like plastic being ripped and a bottle popping open. He later found out what those sounds were as he felt a man’s lubricated, condom-covered cock grind against his own length.
Someone, help.
No one will help you, Yutaka.
They’re all disgusted with you, you naughty little thing.
“This is for your own good, Yutaka. So you’ll never do it again.”
And with that, a slick cock plunged hard into Yutaka’s clenching hole. With barely any breath and no more strength, the boy merely tipped his head back as hips brutally thrust against him, ripping his body apart. The hands gripping his wrists pulled hard, stretching Yutaka’s arms to the side.
How does it feel to be fucked hard in front of your Savior? In the same pose as your Savior?
The choir rehearsing Caccini in the room next door further drowned his already muffled cries.
Ave Maria.
Yutaka winced as one of the men lit a cigarette and blew a stream of smoke, a satisfied expression painting his face as he watched the young boy get nailed. He shivered at the sight of the cigarette glimmering with the heat that was being pounded into him. Yutaka had always hated smoke. He had always been afraid of fire.
With eyes glazed with tears, he looked at the crucifix and prayed. He prayed hard as he felt cigarettes being put out on his palms, eating at his skin.
The Man on the crucifix stared back at Yutaka with a crooked smile. The woman with a crown of stars sneered at him. All the saints laughed at him.
And the boy cried no more.
“No more,” Yutaka whispered to himself as he pounded harder on the pads of his drum set. From his spot on the stage, he watched his band mates. Every move the vocalist made look sculpted and painted, frame by frame. He could see the beads of sweat drip down the bassist’s chest. He could see each of the strings on the guitars quiver as they were strummed.
He wasn’t sure when the world started moving in slow motion. It took forever for seconds to pass by. While Yutaka waited, the voices kept him company.
You know you can’t tune us out, child.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
End it all, Yutaka. End it.
“No more.”
It wasn’t until he was twenty one when Yutaka cried again.
“Stay with me, Yutaka. Stay with me.” It had been the first time in years that Yutaka heard a voice that told him to fight for his life. The voice was soft, but it echoed louder than all the others who had been trying to convince Yutaka to off himself all this time. His courage fleeted along with his consciousness, his longing for death was now replaced by desperation to hold on to his fading life.
Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Tears dripped from his eyes as blood gushed by the pint from his outstretched arms. Slits ran from the base of his wrist to his inner elbow, cutting through his veins and his nerves.
But Akira’s voice cut through his heart.
“I love you. Please don’t leave me.”
And everything went silent.
It had been a few years since he decided to get help. A few years passed since he fought for silent moments like this one. He liked days like these when he’d be quietly walking with Akira, free from the stress of work. His hands would be in Akira’s gentle, secure grip. His scarred arms were pressed against the bassist's side.
He was no longer afraid of warmth.
Akira spoke to him upon feeling the tender weight of Yutaka’s head on his shoulder. “Are those voices still bothering you?”
The drummer shook his head. “No, Akira. Not since last month. I tell you that everyday,” he replied. “The medication and the sessions with the shrink have worked. Please stop worrying about me.”
“I’m sorry. I just…I just don’t want to lose you.”
Yutaka closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of being by Akira’s side. “As long as I don’t lose myself,” he said, “you will never lose me.”
“Promise me, Yutaka,” Akira said. “Promise me you’ll never give up fighting.”
Holding Akira’s hand tighter, Yutaka prayed. He prayed for their happiness.
“Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae.”
“What?”
Yutaka smiled. “I promise, Akira,” he whispered. “Now, and at the hour of my death.”
Chapters: n/a
Author: konicoffee
Genre: Psychological Drama
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story.
Warnings: Mental illness, rape, and blasphemous material. Read at your own risk.
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Reita/Kai
Synopsis: Like the devout Catholics that they were, they shunned the little boy who never denied being gay. The boy who never bothered to fight for his alliance with the Lord.
Comments: Inspired by people like matkashi who are brave enough to tell their stories.
“I know what it looks like,” a six-year-old Yutaka said during class. A nun at the Catholic school he attended had just told him and the rest of his class about the underworld, where all sinners go should their souls be unfit for heaven. Sister Agnes looked at the boy, slightly disturbed at his remark.
“How do you know, son?”
A few months ago, he saw an old bowling alley burst into flames before his very eyes. Waves and waves of fire consumed the old building and everyone in it. While the grownups in the area were in panic, doing all they can to stop the fire, a horrified Yutaka watched people he knew burn alive. They were neighbors and family friends. They were people he had just talked to that morning.
He was still there the next morning, when some adults dug a number of unrecognizable bodies from the wreckage. They were all nothing but masses of burnt flesh. About the only thing left intact on their bodies were the expressions of absolute terror on their faces.
“I’ve been there.”
He knew that it was hell, but he didn’t understand why those people were there. They were friends. They were good people. That experience left him with only one friend. He was Yutaka’s only friend.
Until they were eleven.
“I can’t be your friend anymore, Yutaka,” Ren told him. “I can’t be friends with a fag. It’s wrong. You’re going against God.”
“But Ren…”
“I know you’re in love with me,” the boy said. “You’re disgusting. You make me sick. You’re going to hell. I hate you.”
Yutaka did love him. It hurt Yutaka to deny it. And just because he couldn’t bear that sting, everyone in school hated him. Like the devout Catholics that they were, they shunned the little boy who never denied being gay. The boy who never bothered to fight for his alliance with the Lord.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. The buzzing in Yutaka’s ear must have been from the boy who beat him up yesterday.
It didn’t go away until a year after that, while Yutaka was doing his penance in the school chapel. “Oh, my Lord, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee…”
Buzz.
“…and I detest the loss of heaven…”
Buzz.
“…and the pains of hell.”
“You are forgiven, Yutaka.”
The sound of the voice prompted Yutaka to open his eyes. He looked around to see who spoke to him. There was no one. No one.
“Dominus tecum.”
There was no one but himself.
Every day, every night. His mother, his father, his teachers, and his classmates always comfort him. All of them told him kind words, all at the same time. “You’ll be okay.” He always heard them, even when he was all alone. He heard them even while they were right in front of him, showing him scorn.
They all stopped comforting him when he was sixteen.
Sister Therese had asked him to come to the chapel. She instructed him to come alone, as she wanted to have a “heart to heart talk” with him. Yutaka was stunned to find the nun with four men behind her. “Sister…?”
“They’re good looking, aren’t they?” she chirped.
Yutaka didn’t understand what was going on. He shook his head in confusion. “What?”
“You’re homosexual, aren’t you, Yutaka?” The nun’s voice was sharper this time.
The boy knew better than to tell the truth. “No, Sister, I’m not…”
The nun nodded at one of the men. The man paced towards Yutaka and pushed him, making the young boy fall on the floor on his back. Before Yutaka could open his eyes after the impact, the other three men held onto his arms and legs, sealing his movements. Yutaka had not felt the level of fear that he did that moment since the time he watched the old bowling alley burn down. “What are you doing?”
“Not only are you an impure, sodomizing child of Satan,” Sister Therese said coldly, “you are also a liar. You were spotted with a boy from a nearby all-male school.”
One of the men tore at Yutaka’s pants. The large button that secured his pants on his waist popped off, and the zipper ripped undone. Another man covered Yutaka’s mouth, suppressing his frantic screams.
“You were seen kissing the boy,” the nun hissed as she watched the men pull Yutaka’s pants down his ankles and split his dress shirt open. “Have you no shame? Aren’t you ashamed at acting so lewdly in public? Aren’t you mortified at doing such a dirty act before God?”
The cold floor of the school chapel felt razor sharp on his back. The chill on his completely bare skin stabbed him. Tears gushed out from Yutaka’s eyes as one of the men shoved his hard, thick cock into his mouth. Yutaka gagged and struggled for breath as the cock slid mercilessly deeper into his mouth, down his throat. The scream he tried to release came out as a silent, excruciating wheeze.
No…please…stop.
You like it, don’t you, Yutaka?
Stop this, please.
You’re so nasty.
He warred with the voices in his head that were now yelling at him so loud that it made him dizzy. He couldn’t count how many were speaking to him, jeering at him. It felt like everyone he knew, everyone whose voice he had heard within this lifetime, was talking to him at unbearable frequencies.
None of them comforted him. None.
With one man’s cock thrashing onto his voice box, Yutaka felt hands grip on the undersides of his knees. The hands pushed, lifting his legs, raising his hips, peeling the skin of his lower back off the hard, cold tiles of the chapel floor. He heard what sounded like plastic being ripped and a bottle popping open. He later found out what those sounds were as he felt a man’s lubricated, condom-covered cock grind against his own length.
Someone, help.
No one will help you, Yutaka.
They’re all disgusted with you, you naughty little thing.
“This is for your own good, Yutaka. So you’ll never do it again.”
And with that, a slick cock plunged hard into Yutaka’s clenching hole. With barely any breath and no more strength, the boy merely tipped his head back as hips brutally thrust against him, ripping his body apart. The hands gripping his wrists pulled hard, stretching Yutaka’s arms to the side.
How does it feel to be fucked hard in front of your Savior? In the same pose as your Savior?
The choir rehearsing Caccini in the room next door further drowned his already muffled cries.
Ave Maria.
Yutaka winced as one of the men lit a cigarette and blew a stream of smoke, a satisfied expression painting his face as he watched the young boy get nailed. He shivered at the sight of the cigarette glimmering with the heat that was being pounded into him. Yutaka had always hated smoke. He had always been afraid of fire.
With eyes glazed with tears, he looked at the crucifix and prayed. He prayed hard as he felt cigarettes being put out on his palms, eating at his skin.
The Man on the crucifix stared back at Yutaka with a crooked smile. The woman with a crown of stars sneered at him. All the saints laughed at him.
And the boy cried no more.
“No more,” Yutaka whispered to himself as he pounded harder on the pads of his drum set. From his spot on the stage, he watched his band mates. Every move the vocalist made look sculpted and painted, frame by frame. He could see the beads of sweat drip down the bassist’s chest. He could see each of the strings on the guitars quiver as they were strummed.
He wasn’t sure when the world started moving in slow motion. It took forever for seconds to pass by. While Yutaka waited, the voices kept him company.
You know you can’t tune us out, child.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
End it all, Yutaka. End it.
“No more.”
It wasn’t until he was twenty one when Yutaka cried again.
“Stay with me, Yutaka. Stay with me.” It had been the first time in years that Yutaka heard a voice that told him to fight for his life. The voice was soft, but it echoed louder than all the others who had been trying to convince Yutaka to off himself all this time. His courage fleeted along with his consciousness, his longing for death was now replaced by desperation to hold on to his fading life.
Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Tears dripped from his eyes as blood gushed by the pint from his outstretched arms. Slits ran from the base of his wrist to his inner elbow, cutting through his veins and his nerves.
But Akira’s voice cut through his heart.
“I love you. Please don’t leave me.”
And everything went silent.
It had been a few years since he decided to get help. A few years passed since he fought for silent moments like this one. He liked days like these when he’d be quietly walking with Akira, free from the stress of work. His hands would be in Akira’s gentle, secure grip. His scarred arms were pressed against the bassist's side.
He was no longer afraid of warmth.
Akira spoke to him upon feeling the tender weight of Yutaka’s head on his shoulder. “Are those voices still bothering you?”
The drummer shook his head. “No, Akira. Not since last month. I tell you that everyday,” he replied. “The medication and the sessions with the shrink have worked. Please stop worrying about me.”
“I’m sorry. I just…I just don’t want to lose you.”
Yutaka closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of being by Akira’s side. “As long as I don’t lose myself,” he said, “you will never lose me.”
“Promise me, Yutaka,” Akira said. “Promise me you’ll never give up fighting.”
Holding Akira’s hand tighter, Yutaka prayed. He prayed for their happiness.
“Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae.”
“What?”
Yutaka smiled. “I promise, Akira,” he whispered. “Now, and at the hour of my death.”