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Miwaku no Zakuro	By : Tcharlatan Category: > Kyo/Kaoru Views: 2861 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction. I do not personally know any of the members of Dir en grey, X Japan, or KISAKI, and do not profit from this work.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
For a long time after Kaoru left, Kyo could do little more than wallow in his own horror. He knelt on the hard floor, letting angry, terrified tears drain from his eyes until he had no more left to shed. When it became apparent that that wouldn’t be enough, he gritted his teeth and indulged himself in a well-established addiction for catharsis; slipping one hand into his robe and clawing at himself with increasing fervor as if he could dig his own heart out. As if digging deep enough would spare him the ache of betrayal and panic and fear festering in his core. He didn’t stop until he felt blood tricking down his chest and over his belly, hissing at the sharp throbbing of his torn flesh even as he reveled in the sensation. The physical pain served as an emotional cautery, allowing anger to burn away everything else.
-“You have no life, no worth beyond what you can do for me.”-
He shook his head against the memories, growling. The motion only served to aggravate the sickness imparted by ever-increasing withdrawal symptoms. His body shook incessantly, his head ached and swam in a pervasive fog, he felt cold but he was coated in a fine layer of sweat, and his stomach was beginning to cramp up (though hunger played a part in that as well). Eventually, he forced himself to surface from his brooding, glancing bitterly at the clock on the wall – quarter past eleven in the morning – before dragging himself into the bathroom. He hunched over the sink, drinking as much water as he could hold in an attempt to sooth the itch in his throat and the emptiness in his belly, but it did little good. His eyes rose slowly to stare at his own harrowed reflection in the mirror.
-“You are my prize, my consort, my courtesan, my pet, my plaything.”-
“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” he screamed.
Panting, he fisted his hands in his hair and pulled, shaking his head against the pervasive sound of his captor’s voice. He couldn’t stand the sight of himself, of that damnable collar resting so irrefutably at his throat, labeling him as little more than an animal. With an ear-splitting shriek, he lashed out, striking the pitilessly honest glass over and over until it fell in ragged shards to the floor and sink below, stained with blood from his split knuckles. He screamed and screamed and punched and punched until there was nothing left of the looking glass but a few narrow edges stuck in the dented frame and wet streaks of scarlet. Worn, he slumped against the wall, trembling for a long time before his head rose, a wild glint in his eyes as he stared down at the glossy silver shards.
-“Pet.”-
-“My pet.”-
-“My pet.”-
“A pet… his pet… just a fucking animal…”
Using the sleeve of the robe as protection, one hand closed around a long shard of shattered mirror and clutched it lovingly as he moved back into the main room of his cell, his feral gaze landing on the dog bed. With jerky, violent movements, the blonde began to stab the glass into the damning mat, tearing through the thick cover over and over to let the soft cushioning inside spill out. A hysterical little laugh bubbled out of him. He could be an animal, oh yes. He would show his captor just what kind of animal he was. The laughter turned into a short-lived scream as he stabbed and ripped and slashed frantically at the horrifying symbol of what he was being threatened with.
-“You are mine now, to do with whatever I may please. The sooner you come to terms with that, the easier this life will be for you.”-
The edges of his makeshift blade tore deep into his palm and fingers through the fabric of his robe, but he reveled in the pain, letting it fuel his anger as he reduced the bed to an unrecognizable pile of fabric scraps and stuffing balls stained with streaks of blood. He snarled viciously as he flung the mess away from himself, letting it scatter across the room. The glass shard fell to the ground with a soft ~tink~ against the hardwood as he turned away, his hand leaving bloody streaks on the wall when he braced himself against it to stand. He stared at it in wonder – finally, some color in this empty white cell! – and slid his hand up a bit higher, spreading the stain-
“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Kyo froze, eyes going wide. That voice – ice cold – was not a memory. He turned his head slowly to look over one shoulder, and found Kaoru standing in the doorway. His captor’s arms were crossed over his chest, and the expression on his face was terrifying; sharp eyes narrowed, thin mouth twisted into a narrow line, glaring down his nose at the blonde. The man looked absolutely livid. Caught in that piercing gaze, Kyo’s anger sputtered just a bit under the growing spread of his fear. He swallowed and forced himself to rekindle that waning flame, eyes narrowing defiantly.
“I leave you alone for a couple of hours and you completely destroy your room?” Kaoru demanded, pulling his cell phone out with a scowl and sending out a short text message before tucking the device back into his jacket pocket. “I had to leave a meeting to come deal with this.”
Kyo bristled at the chastising tone. “FUCK you! I never wanted to be here in the first place!”
“Lower your voice. And tell me, did your temper tantrum benefit you at all? What have you accomplished by cutting yourself up and ruining your bed? I can’t continue to give you nice things if you’re just going to wreck them,” Kaoru informed the blonde with a cold glare, moving forward to stand in front of him, cornering him against the wall.
Kyo exploded at the condescending presumption with which his captor spoke to him, his voice raising into a frenzied scream that echoed horribly in the tiny room. “I DON’T WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU! I don’t want that fucking dog bed, and I don’t want this FUCKING COLLAR, I JUST WANT TO FUCKING GO HOME YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
“I won’t ask you again to lower your voice. You have nowhere else to go; this is your home now.”
“THE HELL IT IS! I don’t give a shit what you think I owe you, I’m not your goddamn PET and I’m not staying here! I don’t care if I have to live in a damn cardboard box on the street! Fuck Kisaki, fuck his debts, and FUCK YOU!” Kyo snapped, pushing Kaoru away from himself with both bloodied hands.
His captor hardly budged a single step back for all of the effort his fatigued body had put into the attempt. As his face came back up to look at Kaoru again, he could only catch a glimpse of the man’s arm coming down at him before something hard and heavy crashed against the side of his face, knocking him back against the wall. Crying out as pain lanced through his head from the blow against his cheekbone, Kyo put one hand over the wound and looked up again to snarl at his captor. Seeing what the man had hit him with, the blonde’s eyes went wide and the blood drained out of his face, his anger suddenly and completely smothered by terror.
“Oh… gods…”
A gun. It was a goddamned gun; Kaoru had struck him across the face with the butt of a pistol, and as Kyo stared down the barrel of the weapon, his mind shut down in absolute, unadulterated horror. He could count on one finger the number of times he’d seen a gun in real life, and that was including this one. And it was pointed directly at him, in the hand of a man possessed of the coldest, cruelest eyes he’d ever seen; a man who was undeniably comfortable and familiar with the deadly implement. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe for the panic gripping him.
‘No…’
‘I don’t want to die…’
‘I don’t want to die!’
“Yes, that’s much better. Now, I think you owe me an apology,” Kaoru remarked icily. “On your knees.”
It took the words a moment to register. When they did, Kyo sank to the floor slowly, his attention never wavering from the weapon trained between his eyes, voice shaking as he whispered, “I-I… I’m s-… s-sorry… I’m sorry… p-please…”
Kaoru smirked. “That’s not quite the kind of lip service I’m asking for when I order you to your knees, pet.”
“W-What?” Kyo stuttered breathlessly, hands clenched nervously in the folds of his robe, staining the delicate fabric with the blood still seeping from his knuckles and palm. “P-please, I’m very sorry, I-I-”
“I’m sorry, was I unclear?” Kaoru wondered as he moved forward, his hand shifting decisively to flick off the safety of the gun and cock back the hammer as he caressed the cold steel weapon almost lovingly against Kyo’s face. “The quality and duration of your life at any given moment is completely dependent on my mood. I’m pissed off right now, so I suggest you open up that lovely mouth and suck me off before I decide you’re not worth the effort of keeping alive.”
“What?!” Kyo reeled back, appalled. “N-No! Please, I- AH!”
The blonde screamed as the gun shifted to one side and fired into the wall with a piercing sound, painful even in his half-deaf left ear. Heat and plaster dust washed over the left side of his face, easily crossing the bare centimeters between him and the bullet’s path. As the gun came back to train on him – another round in the chamber, ready to punch a hole through his skull – he let out a terrified, helpless little sound. He’d defied his captor, and this was his punishment; a choice between degradation and death. And he couldn’t die, not this way, not in this place. That left only one option.
Trembling, his stomach quivering with shame and shattered nerves, he reached out to clumsily undo the button and fly of Kaoru’s neatly pressed slacks. The older man was unbelievably smug, his free hand coming down to grip blond hair as his pet pulled his slowly-hardening arousal out of his pants and slowly, miserably, took the thick flesh into his mouth. Kyo shut his eyes against the extremity of the situation and began to work his lips and tongue around the heated shaft, hands braced against his captor’s clothed hips.
Kaoru’s eyelids lowered halfway, sheer bliss trying to force his eyes back into his skull even as he fought to continue watching his little pet. The soft, wet heat sliding over his cock was lovely, but the sight of the blonde was absolutely decadent. He’d always been a very aesthetic person, holding a deep appreciation for physical beauty and putting heavy value on how things looked, and Kyo was a truly stunning creature. On his knees, full lips stretched wide to fit all of Kaoru’s erection, thick black eyelashes glistening with unshed tears fanned against round cheeks – though one was beginning to bruise and bleed sluggishly from the blow he’d dealt earlier – a faint flush staining that sweet, soft face. That sight, almost more than the feeling of the warm mouth so timidly sucking and licking at his arousal, brought a self-indulgent moan past Kaoru’s lips. He tightened his grip on the younger man’s fine, blond hair and allowed his eyes to drift shut in satisfaction.
“Mister Niikura? You called for me?”
Kyo’s eyes snapped open, shocked, as the light female voice met his ears. Standing in the open doorway, wearing a maid’s uniform and pushing a small cart of cleaning supplies, was a young woman, bent at the waist in a low bow that she held flawlessly, awaiting Kaoru’s response. He was on his knees, with a dick in his mouth and a gun to his head, and now there was an audience?! It was too much. He balked, trying to pull away from Kaoru, to free his mouth and run to the bathroom to hide from this fresh source of searing shame, but he found himself pinned to the spot. The hand tangled in his hair held him fast against his captor’s groin, the still-warm steel barrel on the other side pressing closer to his skull in warning. Whimpering, Kyo squeezed his eyes shut again and ceased his struggles, wishing he could disappear from this place and its ever-multiplying humiliations.
“Yes, Mika. Please get this mess cleaned up for me,” Kaoru ordered with startling self-control; his voice only a touch breathy for the intensity of his arousal.
“Right away, Mister Niikura.”
Kyo trembled, mortified as the girl went to work cleaning up the mess he’d made, hardly more than a meter away from where he knelt. He couldn’t make himself open his eyes to see if she was looking at him, but he could hear her close by and held himself as still as possible, even holding his breath, in the desperate hope that he could go unnoticed. She couldn’t see him like this! No one could be allowed to see him like this!
Kaoru’s low voice sounded overhead, chilling the blonde to the core. “I don’t recall telling you to stop, my pet.”
‘Oh gods! Just… Just finish him off,’ Kyo thought desperately, redoubling his efforts on his captor’s straining erection. ‘Just finish him off and this will end!’
Kaoru groaned appreciatively overhead and Kyo blocked the hateful sound out, just as he blocked out the soft rustling and faint humming coming from his side where the maid was cleaning. He was dizzy, but he focused all of his attention on pleasuring his captor, in the hope that bringing the man swiftly to orgasm would bring him at least a temporary respite. When he felt a wave of tension ride through the older man as he tongued the slit in the cockhead, he lingered there, lathing attention on the more sensitive area. When the hips he braced his hands against jerked as his throat constricted reflexively, he swallowed again and again around the flesh in his mouth, working his throat against the invading organ. He learned what most affected Kaoru and adjusted his ministrations accordingly simply for the sake of finishing him off as quickly as possible.
His actions were wringing more of those damned hedonistic noises from his captor’s shameless throat and, with the man’s left hand flexing painfully in his hair, Kyo began to worry that Kaoru was going to slip up and pull the trigger on accident. To die this way – his brains blown across the wall and a strange man’s dick in his mouth – was more disgrace than he could stand to even contemplate, and a thin tear of panic escaped one closed eye. He was torn between wanting the man to climax just so he would be released, and wanting to stall until his captor could get some control of his hands, or at least point the gun somewhere else. Kaoru solved the dilemma for him, abruptly pushing Kyo’s head back against the wall as he drove impatiently into the blonde’s throat.
“Swallow it,” Kaoru growled. “Swallow every last drop.”
With a sharp moan, the older man let his head roll forward, his grip on his pet’s hair painfully tight as he thrust a couple more times, then released into the blonde’s abused throat. Kyo whimpered and struggled to keep from choking as he obeyed, swallowing the sickeningly thick, salty fluid in spite of how it made his stomach turn. Kaoru held him firmly in place after he finished, resting his spent cock in the soft, warm mouth as he basked in the afterglow of his orgasm. Kyo just panted through his nose, trembling and whimpering faintly, aware of nothing so much as the still-warm steel resting against the side of his face and the bitter taste of cum on his tongue. Many long minutes passed before Kaoru caught his breath and pulled away with a content sigh, allowing his pet to relax his strained, battered jaw. He disarmed his gun and tucked it back in the holster concealed under his left arm, and Kyo sagged with relief to see it go.
‘He… he didn’t kill me.'
'I’m alive!’
‘Oh, thank you…’
Slumping slowly against the wall, the blonde panted softly and tried to convince his exhausted body to just stop shaking, if only for a moment. He didn’t know anymore if the tremors were from fear or cold or nicotine withdrawal, but either way they were draining him of what little energy he had left. The maid was humming a cheerful tune under her breath as she cleaned, her cheer incongruous with the blonde’s suffering, emphasizing it with her complete lack of concern. He flinched when Kaoru spoke.
“Good boy.”
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Miwaku no Zakuro