fic: Consolation Play (1/2)
His breath catches cold when it comes to contact with his icy self.
For him, the sky has always seemed dark. It’s a dark veil that flutters somewhere up there and casts shadows over the small and insignificant people living on as if the entire world would’ve been nothing at all. When he glances at people from the shadows cast by his hat, sparing his face from their intimidating looks, he finds himself amused only slightly. Or maybe he doesn’t. He isn’t quite sure - amusement is complex and deceiving when it comes to him.
He wraps his coat better on and listens to the beautiful and melodic piano piece playing in his head, disturbed by the electronic and violent violin that shrieks with a sinister sound, trying to ruin the harmony and lovely, soft feelings.
A triangle, he thinks to himself and closes his eyes, the sound echoing in his ears. How lovely.
He stuffs his hands in his pockets and opens his eyes again, walking on as he studies the people passing him, turning around to glance after a pretty woman in her early twenties, dark brown hair coming down as pretty curls and landing first on her narrow shoulders and then back in a rather lovely way.
Maybe she’s a bird, he wonders all on his own, turning around again with his coat’s hem swirling. He isn’t too fond of birds, acting all free and flying on the sky like there were no worries in the world.
Other people shot them down. He wasn’t other people. So he couldn’t be bothered, only observing the sight from afar, expecting tragedy on their way. Pretty, pretty birds with their wings torn off, red droplets splattered around.
Messy wasn’t his style. He loved harmony, one that was overwhelming and inescapable.
He finds himself falling when someone bumps into him, ending up with nasty asphalt burns on his palms. He never cried out, but the person running at him did and rather loudly as well, the high-pitched half-shriek ringing in his ears as he hits the back of his head to the asphalt, cursing the wet ground out loud.
“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry!” the man over him starts yelling, trying to find the ground to place his hands on in order to pull himself up. Currently their position is rather uncomfortable, for the man is lying on top of Kame, a knee between his legs and the two chests awkwardly crashed together. Kame groans, helping him by pushing him upwards, sitting up by himself as well.
When the man gets on his feet he offers his hand to Kame who however refuses the silent offer, rubbing his palms together to rid them of at least some of the dirt, flinching at the stinging sensation.
“You’re bleeding. Oh god, I’m so sorry!” the man whimpers again, a lively and chirpy sound overlaid with embarrassment and slight worry. Kame ignores the man and takes his damaged hat from his head, wiping it with the back of his hand and helping it out to its original shape.
The man who had bumped into him stays put, fidgeting nervously next to him, finally earning Kame’s attention. He looks up at him, studying his soft and handsome face features and the dark hair barely caressing his collarbones with their tips. Apparently the man had tried straightening them, but in the damp weather and rush of the day they had already started to curl up somewhat.
“Weren’t you in a hurry?” he asks the man with an impassive tone, stuffing his hat back on his head and hands in his pockets. “You sure seemed to be.”
The man glances at his watch and curses with his eyes wide, rising up on his toes to have a good look over Kame’s head. He turns to look back as well, seeing a bus station about a few hundred metres away, the bus leaving at the very second. The man grits his teeth and snarls something to himself grumpily, pursing his lips in a rather childish manner.
Kame feels an amused smile on his lips as he pats the man’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry. It’s just an half an hour for the next one,” he counsels the man, turning his eyes away and continuing his way down the street with a dismissing wave of his hand.
Several hundred metres away, he turns around and takes a few steps backwards, raising his head to see better from under his hat, observing the man from afar curiously.
A puppy, he decides as he turns around with a smile playing dangerously on his lips. A very, very adorable puppy. Puppies were nice. Soft, easy to manipulate… obedient. Playful and naïve.
A puppy would be nice to try out one day.
His steps are silent.
***
“I,” comes a strong declaration, “seem to have found my rude mystery man!”
First thing that comes to his head is that it’s rather rude calling someone you have knocked down on the wet streets rude, but he decides against voicing his thought of the matter as he looks up, the beer bottle held loosely between his fingers. Instead, he decides to give the man a non-interested smile and turn around in his chair, leaning with his elbows to the counter as he observes the bar’s attendees.
The man sits next to him and orders a beer of his own, completely ignoring the cold shoulder he’s giving him and leaning closer, crossing his legs and tapping his knee with his fingers enthusiastically.
“So, are you the cold kind of guy or did your parents just fail to teach you manners?” the man asks and thanks the bartender for the cold beer, handing over his payment for it without more than a second glance. Kame sighs and takes a long sip of his beer, eyes focused on the band playing.
“Maybe both,” he answers. “But it’s my predatory time. So I wouldn’t interfere.”
“So, what type are you looking for?” the man asks, turning to look at the people dancing and enjoying the band on the dance floor over his shoulder. “I’d say you fall for the dirty type rather than cute.”
“I’m looking for a puppy,” Kame cuts his analyze short, earning a surprised snort and barking laughter when the other man wipes his eyes, watering from getting beer up his nose.
“Didn’t expect that,” the man admits, turning properly around as well as if to properly join Kame on his quest, making him finally turn his gaze at him again, eyeing him out properly. The man claps his hands together with the beer bottle still in his hands, some of the liquid splashing from the bottle as he lets out a winner’s yell.
“You’re checking me out!” he states proudly and Kame notices that his hair is better straightened now. He wonders what it would look like, all curled and ruffled up as Jin would sweat in his few-day-worn clothes, mouth dry and eyes darting around in panic. The mental image isn’t half bad. “Better puppy than those chicks over there?”
Kame turns his eyes away again, rubbing his right temple and taking another sip from his beer silently, hoping to himself he’ll be able to avoid a migraine that night.
“I wouldn’t say so,” he answers the man, and if he truly would’ve been a puppy Kame could’ve sworn his tail would’ve stopped swinging and ears would’ve gone down ashamedly. “’Better’ is a hard word to use when you haven’t gotten a try with the others yet. Although I must say that you’re quite a puppy. Not sure if it’s a good thing for you, though.”
When he looks at the again, his form is coated by the red light. He offers his pinkie to Kame who looks at it confusedly, raising his eyebrow at the man.
“Akanishi Jin,” the man introduces himself, giving a name to go with the face. “Yours all night if you want to.”
Kame shakes his head with an amused smile, stretching his neck backwards, not failing to catch Jin’s lustful gaze at the exposed skin. He grunts, appearing half-sleepy and turns to lean on the counter and stare at Jin unashamedly.
“Do you often go to normal bars to hit on guys?” he asks in an almost mocking tone, managing to make Jin pout and cross his arms as he turns around as well, clearly set to his goal.
“Not really, usually I hit on women. But I make exceptions every now and then if I get bored or they seem more favourable. There’s something about you that I want to try out,” he tries explaining himself, leaning to the counter as well, that puppy face of his facing Kame’s with a never-dying devotion. “You seem like the type who could hold a few new kinks up his sleeve.”
“But why would I bother with you?” Kame asks him, clearing his bottle of the remaining liquid and placing it on the counter, sitting up properly again. “I don’t really go for people picking me. I pick for myself.”
“Because I’m on my puppy mood tonight,” Jin pouts at him, his brow burrowed. “And you were looking for a puppy.”
Kame gets on his feet, giving Jin a mischievous smirk as he runs his slightly wavy, chin-long hair back. “Have you drunk enough?” he asks, cocking his head at Jin’s beer bottle. “I wouldn’t follow unless I was pretty damn intoxicated.”
“I had a few shots and drinks before,” Jin answers him, a wide smile spreading on his lips as he jumps on his feet as well, following him across the dance floor to the door obediently. “That was before Ryo disappeared somewhere with someone who looked rather much like a fish… I wonder what the hell that taste of his is…”
“Different from yours, apparently,” Kame answers as he zips up his jean jacket, stepping to the cool air and crossing his arms. “Fish-types are usually good kissers.”
“So, what type are you?” Jin kept asking him, following his fast paced walking and glancing at the passing buildings, trying to memorize his way back to the centre, wondering if he would even remember it in the morning. “Rough sex with no emotions?”
“I’m a wolf,” Kame answers him with a grin and charmingly flashing eyes. “No, not a wolf. Wolves are ordinary. I’m a tarantula.”
“Sounds exotic enough,” Jin shrugs. “Does the tarantula have a name or will I just go by calling you that for the rest of the night? Who knows what kind of kicks you’d get from that…”
“Kamenashi Kazuya,” he answers simply, turning to one of the smaller alleyways, leading to a quieter area. Jin obediently follows, although Kame was able to tell that he was growing more nervous and jumpy with each passing second, blabbering something about Kame’s name and repeating it with a drunken slur.
A puppy. That’s what the small boy truly was, for he wasn’t anything else but a young man at the start of his prettiest bloom.
Sweet.
He pulls the keys from his pocket and opens the door, pulling Jin delicately in and locking the door behind them, holding the taller man from his wrists and caressing the downside of his chin with his lips. Jin groans, following him further in and closing his eyes, savouring the feeling.
“Sit,” Kame tells him as they reach the bedroom, pulling a stool from under his work table to the middle of the room and pressing Jin down. The man complies with a curious look as he keeps following Kame with his eyes, observing him as he bends down to get access to the drawers and pulling out a string ball.
“Knew you were kinky,” he laughs and points at the ball. Kame doesn’t answer but runs his free hand’s fingers up Jin’s arms and shoulders, making him shiver as they reach his neck. He steps slowly behind the man and Jin tries turning around but Kame quickly and violently grabs a hold of Jin’s head, forcing him to face forward.
“You just keep looking over there. Pick a spot if you please,” Kame purred in his ear, sliding his hands down his chest, pressing a kiss on the man’s temple as he stars unbuttoning the buttons of his black dress shirt, starting from the top and moving downwards, slowly and lips never quite leaving his temples, brushing there distractingly. Jin doesn’t answer unless a pleased groan is to be counted, but leans backwards so that the back of his head and shoulders were pressed against Kame’s body.
His body is warm and his obedience is golden. As the situation developed, Jin was quickly becoming a lesser being - firstly a mere servant, then a whore and finally a pet, someone who was to follow his every request, someone who didn’t need to be treated any other way than Kame himself wanted. He unbuttoned Jin’s jeans and pulled the zipper down with a small pressing forwards, swollen lips finding their way on the back of his neck close the hairline and biting down, earning a soft cry.
Pet. That’s what he was.
He isn’t much of an animal lover, he chuckles to himself with a threatening vibration in his throat, a quiet sound making its way to Jin’s ear as he nibbles it gently, the wet sound of his tongue quickly drowning it out.
For Jin doesn’t know what it was like to be fearful - he lives in his perfume world where everything is a haze, where dangers and maleficent things are covered and hushed over. He wasn’t able to protect himself from the things he couldn’t see.
Jin was a small puppy, walking in the middle of people covering their faces with blank masks.
Kame’s mask isn’t blank, nor does it always go unveiled.
He wears a perfume of his own.
He cups the bulge in Jin’s pants with his fingers and breathes dangerously in Jin’s ear, only resulting in bringing out more violent shivers and a louder cry. Jin threatens to look back but he hisses furiously and bites down to his neck again, reminding him of his earlier request.
“Oh. Forward. Yeah, forward. Sorry,” Jin stutters nervously, his back arching and pressing tighter against Kame’s body who’s still caressing Jin through his grey boxers. He places his chin on top of Jin’s head and snakes his arms from over Jin’s shoulders, taking his hands gently in his hold and starting to wrap the string around them, coiling it around the fingers and tying them together, starting to move up his wrists.
“Ah! So that’s why tarantula, now I get it!” Jin exclaims proudly, too overtaken by the effect of alcohol to do anything but succumb to the game Kame’s playing with him with a child-like enthusiasm. Kame chuckles darkly to himself, enjoying the little play.
With a puppy, he knew it was going to be innocent and intoxicating. But this hadn’t been quite what he had expected, not this sheer joy the other one was experiencing with his little foreplay. The excitement.
He wraps the string all the way up Jin’s arm and lets it go for a few times around his neck, hearing a gasp and murmur from Jin’s part before he continues to wrap it around his other arm, finally tying the end with a part of the string around his wrist and kissing a string on his neck wetly.
“I can’t move my fingers,” Jin notes, trying to pull the strings. “Not properly anyway.”
Kame slides his fingers from the back of Jin’s neck to the front, brushing his Adam’s apple up and down, making him forget about his fingers as he gives in to the sensations again, the silent and soothing whispers and murmurs Kame whispers in his ear as he works, massaging his collarbones, the motion resulting in a jolt and a sharp gasp making him smirk to himself. He slowly draws circles to his chest, sliding the shirt down his shoulders and leaving them bare for him to bite as he slides his fingers slowly upwards again, slowly towards Jin’s throat.
He grips it tightly and Jin jolts, his hands trying to jolt to resist but fingers unable to move freely enough to truly object to the fear Kame’s giving him by the strangulation he inflicts his body with, pressing Jin’s head to his chest with a violent grip. Jin makes a strangled cry and tries to break loose by trashing around but fails, his vision slowly getting black spots and the pain increasing, thoughts failing with the lack of oxygen in his brains.
For some time Kame keeps strangling the man, counting and murmuring seconds in his ear as he feels the body falling limp. He can feel the pulse with his rough palms and Jin’s hair tickles his nose and cheeks, starting to curl up lazily again.
Scattered, disoriented butterfly, he decides as he loosens his hold and lies Jin down on his lap, leaning down to kiss him on the swollen lips, feeling the pulsation in his swollen and reddened face thanks to foul blood circulations caused by his pressing.
Too much blood packed in the head. But it was okay, it was all going to be okay. He isn’t pressing anymore and Jin had started to breathe on his own, still unconscious and unmoving.
Still violated.
He takes a strong hold from under Jin’s armpits and drags him down the stairs to the dark cellar with a dimmed light bulb, completely isolated from the rest of the world. He heaves him to the chair and ties him to it tightly with black, silken robes, decorating the knots with playful bows. At last he ties his eyes, condemning him to the darkness and kisses his lips once again, fingers softly pressed on the slightly sweaty cheek.
He leaves the room, and when he hears the silent echo of hysteric cries, he doesn’t go and look.
He’s enjoying his favourite cup of the blackcurrant tea after all.
***
“Who’s there?!” the hysteric voice cuts the air, a loud and high-pitched whimper very much alike and different from the tone he had heard on the very first day the two of them had met. “Don’t come closer! Untie me and let me go! I promised one night, now let me go!”
“I can’t untie you if I can’t come closer, can I?” Kame answers him with a dark chuckle. “Here, take this,” he goes on and puts a wet rag in Jin’s mouth, giving him something to hydrate himself with before starting to wipe off the lines tears had drawn to his cheeks and sweat from his cheeks and neck, caressing the now-formed bruises in the back of the man’s neck, making him flinch.
He removes the rag and Jin pants, trembling at his closeness as he caresses his unfixed hair, tangled and strongly wavy. Jin licks his dry lips, the dryness making his breathing hoarse and Kame soothes his shoulders gently, placing a kiss between his collarbones in a gentle manner to try to help him relax.
“Why are you doing this? Why me?” Jin asks, starting to grow furious in his vulnerable state where he isn’t able to stand up for himself. “Why the fuck are you doing this to me? What are you, a psychopath!?” he starts yelling louder, his voice rough and hoarse. Kame smiles and closes his eyes, tapping Jin’s nose affectionately.
“It’s because you’re a puppy,” he answers. “You’re my puppy and I love you very, very much.”
Jin freezes and Kame lets out a genuine laughter, pressing their foreheads together. “Oh come on, Jin. It’s just the two of us, it isn’t like anyone’s going to overhear anything.”
“You’re insane,” Jin whispers with a cracked voice, trying to pull on his restrains. “You’re a fucking lunatic! Who the fuck do you think you are, going around bars to… to… Oh my god, I’m not the first one, am I?” he realises in horror, starting to trash around even more violently. “I’m not the first one. I’m not the first one! What the fuck have you done to them, what the fuck will you do to me?!”
“They didn’t fit me,” Kame answers truthfully and nods, walking behind Jin and hugging him, pressing his chin on the man’s shoulder. “They didn’t fit me and it didn’t work out..”
“…You’re going to kill me,” Jin laughs hysterically and tries to twist away and avoid Kame’s touch. “Stop touching me, you sick fuck. Murderer! LET ME GO! LET ME GO, I WANT TO GO HOME!”
“You’re home, Jin,” Kame answers the man strongly. “You just aren’t feeling too good now. But you’ll be alright. Just do what I say, will you? Then it’ll be alright.”
“Like fuck I will!” Jin bellows and starts coughing, throat too dry and worn. “I’m not a puppy!”
“You are,” Kame chuckles sweetly to his ear and plays with his curls, a smirk dancing on his lips as he enjoys the situation. “It’s your personality. You can’t escape it. And that’s why you might be just the right one.”
And he walks away, ignoring the loud protest from Jin’s part.
He doesn’t return even the following day. He’s too busy organizing Jin’s belongings in the house and shopping for clothes for him to put in the drawers.
Everything has to be just right for Jin to stay after all. Jin’s world knew no imperfections.
PART 2