Last defeat
Last defeat
Danno/Kiriki (Drama: BAD BOYS J)
pwp, 3064 words, NC-17. Non-con/rape
“This is not about friendship. It's not about cooperating. It's about Hiroshima. About being at the top of this city.”
Written for h_itoshi, who wanted not-friends Danno/Kiriki. It just ended up like this.
It's not that it's odd that a BEAST member finds him on the streets of Hiroshima. What puzzles Kiriki is that he has a message to him from Danno; that he wants to meet him, one on one. He could swear they had made up, that they have no reason to fight anymore, but if the top of BEAST wants to see him, he'll go along with it. So as instructed he goes there, to a no longer used underground parking lot without telling anyone about it; he knows Kumi has an idea about what's going on, though. She usually does, but she never stops him, either.
And when he arrives, he finds that Danno is already there, waiting for him. Kiriki tries to ask why he called him there, but all he gets is a cold stare.
“I'm the top of Hiroshima. And I don't want your gang around.” He doesn't have to say it straight out, Kiriki gets it anyway. He's here to fight about it.
“But why?” There's something that just doesn't make sense to him. They fought STP together, along with Nights. They fought Eden as well. And he doesn't want to fight Danno. “Aren't we comrades?”
Danno laughs as he steps closer, hands fisted and ready. "You think you can solve everything with friendship." His voice is calm, but his fist hits Kiriki in the chest hard enough that the air is driven out of his lungs. "Silly." It sounds like he's trying to hold back his laughter this time, and when Kiriki looks up he catches the smirk on his face. He's playing.
"Danno, we could..."
"No, there is nothing we could compromise about. You and your "let's be friends forever"-attitude is in my way." His head is swung to the side by the force of another hit. The following sting and the metallic taste in his mouth tells him that the skin of his lower lip has broken. “I'm not looking to be your friend.” He's kicked backwards; he doesn't fall over, instead his back hits a cold, hard wall. Danno follows in a natural way, like an animal follows its prey during an attack, and this time, he is actually scared. It feels like his heart is going to beat itself out of his chest when Danno brings an arm up, presses it against his throat to keep him in place.
In Kiriki's mind, the scene of Danno and his gang coming to help fighting plays over and over, and he doesn't get it. Hadn't that meant they had made up? Was there still a need to fight?
Danno's short laugh brings his attention back to reality, where it seems as though Danno has been reading his mind
“I only joined you to beat the stronger gang. Is that so hard to understand?”
“But you... But Kaori? She's friends with girls from other teams.”
He laughs again. “You think I care who her friends are? Where they belong to?” The arm that isn't restricting him moves, and a fist hits him in the stomach again. Kiriki coughs while simultaneously trying to draw a deep breath. “You don't get it, do you?”
“...” Kiriki is sure that even if he could answer, he wouldn't know what to say. He tries to kick at Danno's legs, but there's no way he can bring up enough force to push him away in the position he's in.
“This is not about friendship. It's not about cooperating. It's about Hiroshima. About being at the top of this city.” He's so close that Kiriki can feel his voice on his skin, and it sends goosebumps down his spine. His pulse is still racing, too. “And you're not meant to be there. You're weak.”
There's nothing worse than weak. Kiriki's blood boils in his veins, fueled by his already quick pulse that is racing for a reason other than fear, now. And surprisingly, that's when Danno lets him go, takes a step back, and waits. Because he knows that Kiriki is going to fight now; he wants Kiriki to fight. So when he launches for him, Danno only ducks away in a move that almost reminds of a boxer's, brings up his own hand to hit him in the ribs. It would have hurt if he hadn't had adrenaline running through his body; he can tell he's going to be sore tomorrow. The next few times he tries, he actually hits, the feel of cool leather against his fists satisfying, although Danno doesn't seem very affected.
He's so focused on fighting that he's unprepared for the hit to his cheek, and he finds himself dizzy and in pain. There's a strong grip on his arm, but he's almost thankful for it, because it keeps him on his feet.
“No, you're not weak,” Danno tells him, then. “Not physically. You're a good fighter. Strong. But still you are weak,” he bumps Kiriki's chest with his fist, “in here. And you can't be, if you want to be the top of Hiroshima.”
“So you'd betray people you trust, if they were in your way?” he mutters, trying to make his eyes focus on Danno's face.
“No. I don't trust people to begin with.”
That's it. Kiriki finally has his body under control again; there's an aching pain in the side of his face, but he doesn't feel like he's going to fall over. And he glares a few seconds into Danno's dark, cold eyes, and then he spits, right in his face. The reaction is immediate; he gets hit in the chest with all the power Danno can put into his fist, and while he's again gasping for breath his legs are kicked out from underneath him and he hits the concrete floor with a dull sound. He barely has time to react before he's pulled up again, pinned to a wall, face pressed against the cold surface. Danno has both of his hands in a tight grip behind his back; the one hand he's not holding them with comes up to Kiriki's hair, tugging his head backwards in an awkward angle, and he's hissing into his ear.
“I'll show you who's in charge here.”
What comes next is so unexpected that Kiriki doesn't react until it hurts. The grip on his hair is gone, instead the hand sneaks under his jacket and his white t-shirt, and while he does tense up at the sudden but nearly soft touch, it's not until nails set into his skin, rake down his side, that he winces. It's still nothing compared to the way his head has started to pound, and with every breath he feels what, in the worst case, could be a cracked rib.
"You're not gonna protest?" Danno is still so close that he feels his body along his back, feels the movement of his lips against the shell of his ear.
The touch under his clothes is gone, but it reappears on the crotch of his jeans, groping him at random until it finds his cock through the fabric.
"I'm not afraid of you, Danno." It's a lie; if it had still been a fight he wouldn't have been, but at the moment, Kiriki is scared. He is unfamiliar with sexual situations in general, so much that he's not sure whether what Danno is doing counts as one or not. He could just be doing it to humiliate him, but Kiriki is determined not to let himself get humiliated. He just has to be strong.
"We'll have to fix that, then."
Kiriki doesn't struggle as Danno squeezes him through the fabric of his clothes; he's not weak, he's not scared, or at least he tells himself so. He wills his body not to react, but being young and unexperienced, he's half hard and twitching much sooner than he would have hoped.
"You don't seem very scared, indeed," Danno scoffs right into his ear, a deep and short, and the touch is gone. For a moment Kiriki thinks that it's over, that he passed the test, but then Danno takes a new grip on his wrists, ties them with together something he can't see and doesn't recognize by the feel of it.
He's starting to panic. Danno has him pinned to a wall, arms tied behind his back, and now it doesn't feel at all like it's about to end. No, there's a hand on his belt, then a second, and they're done unbuckling it within seconds. He can't stop the gasp that pushes out of him when Danno shoves one hand inside his underwear, wrapping his hand around his cock and strokes it.
"Not afraid at all, are you?" His voice is sweet, almost, but it's mocking him. "All nice and hard for me. You want it, don't you?" The panic rises in his chest as he realizes what Danno is talking about, and without him directly instructing it to, he begins struggling. He squirms and moves, tries to kick backwards at Danno's legs, but it's difficult when he's so close up to the wall and with arms restricted. An arm wraps around his chest to hold him still, and as it squeezes hard around him he whines silently. That is definitely a cracked rib.
Kiriki's pants are shoved down to his knees, the air cool on his naked skin, and Danno scoffs at the way he shivers. Rough fabric rubs against him in rhythmical movements, and he knows what's going to happen. The hand on his cock lets go; he's still held in place as he hears Danno spit, and he does everything he can to get away when wet fingers find their way between his buttcheeks. Everything he can is not enough, though; he's injured and Danno is larger, stronger. What he thinks is two fingers enter him at the same time, and the saliva on them is not enough to make it smooth. He whimpers against the wall, because it burns in a way he has never felt before, and it doesn't stop, either. It's frustrating how calm Danno is, how he thrusts the fingers in and out at a pace that increases steadily. Kiriki draws a long, shuddering breath when they're gone, preparing for the worst, but Danno spits again and next time there's another finger added. The erection he had been forced to is completely gone, pain overriding what at least his body had found pleasure in; now it only hurts.
"Danno..." he tries when the fingers are withdrawn, but the sore feeling lingers and he knows he can't take it anymore. "Please, stop..."
It's easy to hear Danno's leer as he laughs, a short, mocking laugh.
"But you liked it so much before? Don't want to let you down." He speaks like did before, sweet but not genuinely so, and in the background there's the unmistakable sound of a belt opening and pants being unzipped.
"Please, no," and he's sobbing now that realization has dawned upon him. There's nothing he can do.
His feet get kicked further apart, as far as his pants will allow; he tries not to spread his legs, which only earns him a hand between his shoulder blades, shoving him forward so that his forehead hits the wall with a low sound, and the pounding in his head doubles. It's so loud that he doesn't hear when Danno slicks his own cock with saliva, and is taken by surprise when the blunt head of it is poking at him. It pushes inside, not exactly fast but not at all carefully either; it feels like something tears, and he hears himself give a broken scream, not able to stop it even if he wants to. When he's all the way inside him Danno is groaning against the back of his neck, and Kiriki is breathing in short, quick breaths, pain forcing tears to his eyes, but he does his best not to let them fall. He succeeds until Danno pulls back, pushes back in, repeats, building up a pace that couldn't be slow enough. It burns, it hurts, and he feels wet drops on his cheeks before he realizes his tears have overflown. With every thrust, a pained whine leaves his throat, a sound that just seems to force itself from his throat even though he tries to hold it back.
The hold Danno has on him with his left arm, around his torso to his right hip, keeps him away from the wall enough that his face doesn't rub against it with every thrust tearing at his insides. He has his shoulder leaning against it for some kind of support, though, and the cold surface is hard against him. Kiriki finds himself staring apathetically at the rough concrete, a bit blurry because his tears just won't stop running and he can't remember the last time he cried out of pain. The only other thing he sees is Danno's right hand, right arm, placed against the wall so that he's towering over him, covering him with his own body, and Kiriki can feel his breath in his neck.
“You're pretty quiet.” His voice is deep and lacks of emotion, like usual, but now, it is more than that. Almost threatening. What he says isn't, but the way he says it is, and Kiriki would like to cower away from it, if only he could. But he's pulled back harshly, the arm around him tightening and he gasps loudly when the cracked rib moves inside him. It's followed by a couple particularly hard thrusts, with longer pauses in between, arm squeezing around his rib cage every time he pushes in, and his weak screams sound so pathetic that he can both hear and feel Danno give a breathy laugh into his hair.
Something trickles down the inside of his thigh; he knows the feeling, the way it runs kind of slow, but what stands out the most is the warmth of it. If he looked, if he could look, he's sure there would be a red line steadily growing longer down his leg. He's bleeding. Chances are Danno has noticed as well, and at that thought he's almost hopeful for a second, that he'll have mercy on him, that he will stop, but then he realizes that it's probably not a problem to Danno if he gets hurt. And no, it isn't. Rather the opposite; he speeds up, fucks him harder.
“How's it feeling?” Danno hisses, his way of speaking still steady and rhythm even more so.
“It hurts,” he manages, choking on his own words, and the way Danno's hand on him tightens when he say them is scarier than almost everything else. Except the groan he muffles against his neck. Because he thinks it means Danno finds satisfaction in what he's doing, and because he knows he's responding exactly the way Danno wants him to. So instead he zones out, lets Danno do as he pleases as he lets his mind wander to anything and everything that isn't pain, but it's not as easy as he wishes to shut it all out. By the time the thrusts increase in pace rapidly it's all so dull that he barely feels the pain anymore; only the rib makes itself reminded with a sting every time Danno moves his arm the slightest, or when Kiriki himself draws a too deep breath. Then with a curse next to his head it stops; he only pushes back in a few more times, much calmer now, before he pulls back. Kiriki thinks he might collapse on the floor.
His hands are finally freed, then he gets spun around, pushed in the chest so that his back hits the wall and he leans heavily against it; the blood flow in his arms is making his hands so numb that he doesn't trust them to hold him up anyway. He dares to glance down at Danno's crotch; his cock is stained red, so is the hand that's wiping the blood from it, and Kiriki feels new tears burning behind his eyelids. He shuts his eyes, refuses to look, and it's strangely quiet for what feels like a minute but most likely isn't. Then there's a touch to his abdomen; his eyes fly open as he flinches, and he finds Danno's face much too close to his own.
“That's better.” The smirk on his face is smug, and it widens when Kiriki cowers as he continues staining his white t-shirt with the blood on his hand. He then steps back, watches Kiriki sink onto the concrete floor as he zips up his pants, gets his belt in place, before he turns and walks away from there like nothing unusual happened.
Kiriki, on the other hand, is coming back to reality, but can't do anything but stare at Danno's back until it disappears out of the parking lot. He stopped sobbing a while ago, and brings one hand up to wipe his face, and the red mess on his still bare thighs come into view. The blood has started to coagulate, dark on his skin, and then he notices the white, stickier substance. He knows exactly what it is, and in his mind there's flashes of what just happened; it makes his stomach turn like he's about to throw up, and he starts coughing, which in turn only hurts because it strains his rib cage with every shaking breath he takes. Then there's the sound of people running outside, and he knows the voices that call his name. They must have heard him too, his coughs, because the three of them appear at the entrance only seconds later.
“Tsukasa!” one of them yell, probably Eiji, and they approach fast. Kiriki isn't sure he wants them to come. He needs the help, but he feels so ashamed in a way he knows that he shouldn't, and he knows that if he could, if he could bring himself to it, he would have hidden.
But then Youji stops halfway there, stops the other two as well. He must have noticed something is wrong. Kiriki watches as he turns around and sends them out, before he gets closer on his own.
“Tsukasa,” he tries, carefully. “Let's get you out of here.”
Danno/Kiriki (Drama: BAD BOYS J)
pwp, 3064 words, NC-17. Non-con/rape
“This is not about friendship. It's not about cooperating. It's about Hiroshima. About being at the top of this city.”
Written for h_itoshi, who wanted not-friends Danno/Kiriki. It just ended up like this.
It's not that it's odd that a BEAST member finds him on the streets of Hiroshima. What puzzles Kiriki is that he has a message to him from Danno; that he wants to meet him, one on one. He could swear they had made up, that they have no reason to fight anymore, but if the top of BEAST wants to see him, he'll go along with it. So as instructed he goes there, to a no longer used underground parking lot without telling anyone about it; he knows Kumi has an idea about what's going on, though. She usually does, but she never stops him, either.
And when he arrives, he finds that Danno is already there, waiting for him. Kiriki tries to ask why he called him there, but all he gets is a cold stare.
“I'm the top of Hiroshima. And I don't want your gang around.” He doesn't have to say it straight out, Kiriki gets it anyway. He's here to fight about it.
“But why?” There's something that just doesn't make sense to him. They fought STP together, along with Nights. They fought Eden as well. And he doesn't want to fight Danno. “Aren't we comrades?”
Danno laughs as he steps closer, hands fisted and ready. "You think you can solve everything with friendship." His voice is calm, but his fist hits Kiriki in the chest hard enough that the air is driven out of his lungs. "Silly." It sounds like he's trying to hold back his laughter this time, and when Kiriki looks up he catches the smirk on his face. He's playing.
"Danno, we could..."
"No, there is nothing we could compromise about. You and your "let's be friends forever"-attitude is in my way." His head is swung to the side by the force of another hit. The following sting and the metallic taste in his mouth tells him that the skin of his lower lip has broken. “I'm not looking to be your friend.” He's kicked backwards; he doesn't fall over, instead his back hits a cold, hard wall. Danno follows in a natural way, like an animal follows its prey during an attack, and this time, he is actually scared. It feels like his heart is going to beat itself out of his chest when Danno brings an arm up, presses it against his throat to keep him in place.
In Kiriki's mind, the scene of Danno and his gang coming to help fighting plays over and over, and he doesn't get it. Hadn't that meant they had made up? Was there still a need to fight?
Danno's short laugh brings his attention back to reality, where it seems as though Danno has been reading his mind
“I only joined you to beat the stronger gang. Is that so hard to understand?”
“But you... But Kaori? She's friends with girls from other teams.”
He laughs again. “You think I care who her friends are? Where they belong to?” The arm that isn't restricting him moves, and a fist hits him in the stomach again. Kiriki coughs while simultaneously trying to draw a deep breath. “You don't get it, do you?”
“...” Kiriki is sure that even if he could answer, he wouldn't know what to say. He tries to kick at Danno's legs, but there's no way he can bring up enough force to push him away in the position he's in.
“This is not about friendship. It's not about cooperating. It's about Hiroshima. About being at the top of this city.” He's so close that Kiriki can feel his voice on his skin, and it sends goosebumps down his spine. His pulse is still racing, too. “And you're not meant to be there. You're weak.”
There's nothing worse than weak. Kiriki's blood boils in his veins, fueled by his already quick pulse that is racing for a reason other than fear, now. And surprisingly, that's when Danno lets him go, takes a step back, and waits. Because he knows that Kiriki is going to fight now; he wants Kiriki to fight. So when he launches for him, Danno only ducks away in a move that almost reminds of a boxer's, brings up his own hand to hit him in the ribs. It would have hurt if he hadn't had adrenaline running through his body; he can tell he's going to be sore tomorrow. The next few times he tries, he actually hits, the feel of cool leather against his fists satisfying, although Danno doesn't seem very affected.
He's so focused on fighting that he's unprepared for the hit to his cheek, and he finds himself dizzy and in pain. There's a strong grip on his arm, but he's almost thankful for it, because it keeps him on his feet.
“No, you're not weak,” Danno tells him, then. “Not physically. You're a good fighter. Strong. But still you are weak,” he bumps Kiriki's chest with his fist, “in here. And you can't be, if you want to be the top of Hiroshima.”
“So you'd betray people you trust, if they were in your way?” he mutters, trying to make his eyes focus on Danno's face.
“No. I don't trust people to begin with.”
That's it. Kiriki finally has his body under control again; there's an aching pain in the side of his face, but he doesn't feel like he's going to fall over. And he glares a few seconds into Danno's dark, cold eyes, and then he spits, right in his face. The reaction is immediate; he gets hit in the chest with all the power Danno can put into his fist, and while he's again gasping for breath his legs are kicked out from underneath him and he hits the concrete floor with a dull sound. He barely has time to react before he's pulled up again, pinned to a wall, face pressed against the cold surface. Danno has both of his hands in a tight grip behind his back; the one hand he's not holding them with comes up to Kiriki's hair, tugging his head backwards in an awkward angle, and he's hissing into his ear.
“I'll show you who's in charge here.”
What comes next is so unexpected that Kiriki doesn't react until it hurts. The grip on his hair is gone, instead the hand sneaks under his jacket and his white t-shirt, and while he does tense up at the sudden but nearly soft touch, it's not until nails set into his skin, rake down his side, that he winces. It's still nothing compared to the way his head has started to pound, and with every breath he feels what, in the worst case, could be a cracked rib.
"You're not gonna protest?" Danno is still so close that he feels his body along his back, feels the movement of his lips against the shell of his ear.
The touch under his clothes is gone, but it reappears on the crotch of his jeans, groping him at random until it finds his cock through the fabric.
"I'm not afraid of you, Danno." It's a lie; if it had still been a fight he wouldn't have been, but at the moment, Kiriki is scared. He is unfamiliar with sexual situations in general, so much that he's not sure whether what Danno is doing counts as one or not. He could just be doing it to humiliate him, but Kiriki is determined not to let himself get humiliated. He just has to be strong.
"We'll have to fix that, then."
Kiriki doesn't struggle as Danno squeezes him through the fabric of his clothes; he's not weak, he's not scared, or at least he tells himself so. He wills his body not to react, but being young and unexperienced, he's half hard and twitching much sooner than he would have hoped.
"You don't seem very scared, indeed," Danno scoffs right into his ear, a deep and short, and the touch is gone. For a moment Kiriki thinks that it's over, that he passed the test, but then Danno takes a new grip on his wrists, ties them with together something he can't see and doesn't recognize by the feel of it.
He's starting to panic. Danno has him pinned to a wall, arms tied behind his back, and now it doesn't feel at all like it's about to end. No, there's a hand on his belt, then a second, and they're done unbuckling it within seconds. He can't stop the gasp that pushes out of him when Danno shoves one hand inside his underwear, wrapping his hand around his cock and strokes it.
"Not afraid at all, are you?" His voice is sweet, almost, but it's mocking him. "All nice and hard for me. You want it, don't you?" The panic rises in his chest as he realizes what Danno is talking about, and without him directly instructing it to, he begins struggling. He squirms and moves, tries to kick backwards at Danno's legs, but it's difficult when he's so close up to the wall and with arms restricted. An arm wraps around his chest to hold him still, and as it squeezes hard around him he whines silently. That is definitely a cracked rib.
Kiriki's pants are shoved down to his knees, the air cool on his naked skin, and Danno scoffs at the way he shivers. Rough fabric rubs against him in rhythmical movements, and he knows what's going to happen. The hand on his cock lets go; he's still held in place as he hears Danno spit, and he does everything he can to get away when wet fingers find their way between his buttcheeks. Everything he can is not enough, though; he's injured and Danno is larger, stronger. What he thinks is two fingers enter him at the same time, and the saliva on them is not enough to make it smooth. He whimpers against the wall, because it burns in a way he has never felt before, and it doesn't stop, either. It's frustrating how calm Danno is, how he thrusts the fingers in and out at a pace that increases steadily. Kiriki draws a long, shuddering breath when they're gone, preparing for the worst, but Danno spits again and next time there's another finger added. The erection he had been forced to is completely gone, pain overriding what at least his body had found pleasure in; now it only hurts.
"Danno..." he tries when the fingers are withdrawn, but the sore feeling lingers and he knows he can't take it anymore. "Please, stop..."
It's easy to hear Danno's leer as he laughs, a short, mocking laugh.
"But you liked it so much before? Don't want to let you down." He speaks like did before, sweet but not genuinely so, and in the background there's the unmistakable sound of a belt opening and pants being unzipped.
"Please, no," and he's sobbing now that realization has dawned upon him. There's nothing he can do.
His feet get kicked further apart, as far as his pants will allow; he tries not to spread his legs, which only earns him a hand between his shoulder blades, shoving him forward so that his forehead hits the wall with a low sound, and the pounding in his head doubles. It's so loud that he doesn't hear when Danno slicks his own cock with saliva, and is taken by surprise when the blunt head of it is poking at him. It pushes inside, not exactly fast but not at all carefully either; it feels like something tears, and he hears himself give a broken scream, not able to stop it even if he wants to. When he's all the way inside him Danno is groaning against the back of his neck, and Kiriki is breathing in short, quick breaths, pain forcing tears to his eyes, but he does his best not to let them fall. He succeeds until Danno pulls back, pushes back in, repeats, building up a pace that couldn't be slow enough. It burns, it hurts, and he feels wet drops on his cheeks before he realizes his tears have overflown. With every thrust, a pained whine leaves his throat, a sound that just seems to force itself from his throat even though he tries to hold it back.
The hold Danno has on him with his left arm, around his torso to his right hip, keeps him away from the wall enough that his face doesn't rub against it with every thrust tearing at his insides. He has his shoulder leaning against it for some kind of support, though, and the cold surface is hard against him. Kiriki finds himself staring apathetically at the rough concrete, a bit blurry because his tears just won't stop running and he can't remember the last time he cried out of pain. The only other thing he sees is Danno's right hand, right arm, placed against the wall so that he's towering over him, covering him with his own body, and Kiriki can feel his breath in his neck.
“You're pretty quiet.” His voice is deep and lacks of emotion, like usual, but now, it is more than that. Almost threatening. What he says isn't, but the way he says it is, and Kiriki would like to cower away from it, if only he could. But he's pulled back harshly, the arm around him tightening and he gasps loudly when the cracked rib moves inside him. It's followed by a couple particularly hard thrusts, with longer pauses in between, arm squeezing around his rib cage every time he pushes in, and his weak screams sound so pathetic that he can both hear and feel Danno give a breathy laugh into his hair.
Something trickles down the inside of his thigh; he knows the feeling, the way it runs kind of slow, but what stands out the most is the warmth of it. If he looked, if he could look, he's sure there would be a red line steadily growing longer down his leg. He's bleeding. Chances are Danno has noticed as well, and at that thought he's almost hopeful for a second, that he'll have mercy on him, that he will stop, but then he realizes that it's probably not a problem to Danno if he gets hurt. And no, it isn't. Rather the opposite; he speeds up, fucks him harder.
“How's it feeling?” Danno hisses, his way of speaking still steady and rhythm even more so.
“It hurts,” he manages, choking on his own words, and the way Danno's hand on him tightens when he say them is scarier than almost everything else. Except the groan he muffles against his neck. Because he thinks it means Danno finds satisfaction in what he's doing, and because he knows he's responding exactly the way Danno wants him to. So instead he zones out, lets Danno do as he pleases as he lets his mind wander to anything and everything that isn't pain, but it's not as easy as he wishes to shut it all out. By the time the thrusts increase in pace rapidly it's all so dull that he barely feels the pain anymore; only the rib makes itself reminded with a sting every time Danno moves his arm the slightest, or when Kiriki himself draws a too deep breath. Then with a curse next to his head it stops; he only pushes back in a few more times, much calmer now, before he pulls back. Kiriki thinks he might collapse on the floor.
His hands are finally freed, then he gets spun around, pushed in the chest so that his back hits the wall and he leans heavily against it; the blood flow in his arms is making his hands so numb that he doesn't trust them to hold him up anyway. He dares to glance down at Danno's crotch; his cock is stained red, so is the hand that's wiping the blood from it, and Kiriki feels new tears burning behind his eyelids. He shuts his eyes, refuses to look, and it's strangely quiet for what feels like a minute but most likely isn't. Then there's a touch to his abdomen; his eyes fly open as he flinches, and he finds Danno's face much too close to his own.
“That's better.” The smirk on his face is smug, and it widens when Kiriki cowers as he continues staining his white t-shirt with the blood on his hand. He then steps back, watches Kiriki sink onto the concrete floor as he zips up his pants, gets his belt in place, before he turns and walks away from there like nothing unusual happened.
Kiriki, on the other hand, is coming back to reality, but can't do anything but stare at Danno's back until it disappears out of the parking lot. He stopped sobbing a while ago, and brings one hand up to wipe his face, and the red mess on his still bare thighs come into view. The blood has started to coagulate, dark on his skin, and then he notices the white, stickier substance. He knows exactly what it is, and in his mind there's flashes of what just happened; it makes his stomach turn like he's about to throw up, and he starts coughing, which in turn only hurts because it strains his rib cage with every shaking breath he takes. Then there's the sound of people running outside, and he knows the voices that call his name. They must have heard him too, his coughs, because the three of them appear at the entrance only seconds later.
“Tsukasa!” one of them yell, probably Eiji, and they approach fast. Kiriki isn't sure he wants them to come. He needs the help, but he feels so ashamed in a way he knows that he shouldn't, and he knows that if he could, if he could bring himself to it, he would have hidden.
But then Youji stops halfway there, stops the other two as well. He must have noticed something is wrong. Kiriki watches as he turns around and sends them out, before he gets closer on his own.
“Tsukasa,” he tries, carefully. “Let's get you out of here.”