Warnings: Smut. The long awaited -- or do I kid myself? -- S/K lemon. Since Murasaki liked it, you all know that it's twisted. And I stole the title from Nine Inch Nails and BuffytVS, respectively.
Chapter Six: The Becoming
Subaru came home after checking up on the information he’d been given to find Kamui again immersed in homework. He didn’t say anything about Kamui’s recent development of a work ethic, guessing that he was only doing it to avoid having to talk to Subaru. He knew that Kamui was furious about what had happened earlier that afternoon, and he didn’t particularly care.
Perhaps what bothered him most about the entire experience was that he had liked it. Kamui was absolutely right in saying that, and his behavior had made it obvious. He had liked kissing Kamui, had wanted to do more. But doing that would be betraying Seishirou’s memory.
Unless . . .
And that was where Subaru’s logic fell apart. That little insidious voice in the back of his head kept whispering that if Seishirou had wanted Subaru to take his place, wouldn’t that mean finding his own toy to play with? Subaru was torn, because he felt it was his duty to replace Seishirou, to live what had been left of his life. But at the same time, he didn’t want to put anyone through what he’d been through. Particularly not Kamui, who had already been through his own personal hell.
Although that made Kamui a better choice than anyone else, the little voice mentioned. He was already broken; Subaru couldn’t really make things worse. And Kamui liked being hurt, liked being treated badly; that much had been obvious from his relationship with Fuuma.
If Kamui wanted to be treated badly, could Subaru really be faulted for giving him what he wanted?
He really didn’t like that train of thought, so he tried to derail it and think about other things. But somehow other things always circled back to the feel of Kamui’s lips against his, that feathery touch against his back. He had been deprived of any physical contact -- let alone sexual contact -- for so long that he couldn’t help but want more. He just couldn’t stop thinking about it, no matter how hard he tried.
His brief time in the apartment passed in silence, though he thought he caught Kamui giving him a speculative look more than once. Probably, Subaru reflected dryly, planning how to best catch him off guard. Kamui seemed rather intent on dragging him into bed, and Subaru wasn’t exactly sure why. It unnerved him to not know something important like that.
Then he left. As he expected, the job was easy. The target was unprepared and not able to fight back in any way. Subaru fed the soul to the Tree and sat down beneath it, pondering what to do. “What do you think?” he asked thin air. He’d gotten into the habit of talking to the Tree during these long months; the only other company he’d had was Fuuma and he’d tried to keep the Dark Kamui as far away from him as possible. “You think I ought to sleep with Kamui?”
The Tree didn’t answer in words; it never did. But Subaru got the distinct feeling that the Tree thought he was being an absolute idiot. It seemed to be of the opinion that since Kamui was a) attractive, b) willing, and c) available, that Subaru ought to be home in bed with him right at that very moment rather than sitting under a Tree talking to it. The Tree had remarkably little patience for idiocy.
“You just want me to kill him and feed his soul to you,” Subaru muttered.
The Tree didn’t deny that it thought Kamui would indeed make a very tasty snack, but declined to comment on the subject. It knew that Subaru wasn’t about to kill Kamui, and therefore saw no reason to make the request. Apparently it had learned from what had happened between Subaru and Seishirou.
Subaru sighed and lit up a cigarette. He didn’t deny he had been moderately attracted to Kamui before Seishirou had died, but that was all it had been -- a moderate attraction. The kind that made him glance at Kamui and think “Hey, he’s pretty cute” when they’d first met (well, perhaps not when they’d first met, given those circumstances) and entertain the occasional thought about a future relationship. Subaru knew that he belonged to Seishirou. Seishirou had told him this more than once, in fact, but even without that, it wasn’t something Subaru had trouble figuring out.
But the simple fact remained that Subaru didn’t know what Seishirou had wanted to happen to him after his death, and he would never be able to ask.
He decided that the Tree was right about one thing at least; sitting around doing nothing was stupid. He pitched his cigarette and walked home. His coat hid the blood liberally spattered over his front, so he was able to take a taxi. The apartment was dark and silent; Kamui was not in his usual place on the couch. Subaru frowned; given that it was half past midnight, he’d expected Kamui to be asleep at this point. There was no note from the younger boy. Then again, Subaru had flatly stated that he didn’t care when Kamui came and went, so he had probably gone over to Keichii’s and figured that a note wasn’t necessary.
He probably wanted to think more about how to seduce me, Subaru reflected, amused, as he poured himself a mug of tea. The thought of Kamui seducing anyone was a rather entertaining one. Then again, it became significantly less entertaining when Subaru thought of how close he’d nearly come to succeeding.
He finished his tea and decided against eating anything. He wasn’t particularly hungry anyway. He padded into his bedroom and turned on the small lamp by the door, which was the only light in the room. He didn’t feel the need to light the room very well, as he only used it for sleeping and preferred total darkness.
He stopped dead, with his hand still on the light switch.
“You can’t sleep in here,” he said flatly.
“Why not?” Kamui asked sleepily, from where he was curled up in Subaru’s blankets.
“Because I said so,” Subaru replied. “And you agreed to abide by my rules when I said I’d let you stay here. Now get out.”
“But I’m already half-asleep,” Kamui protested, stretching.
Subaru was rather sure that the stretch was meant to draw attention to the fact that Kamui was only wearing boxers. He nearly laughed, until he realized that he was, in fact, staring at Kamui. He shook himself slightly and marched over, grabbing Kamui by one wrist and hauling him to his feet. “Out. Now.”
“Ouch,” Kamui said, pulling his wrist free and giving Subaru a glare. “Be a little nicer about it next time, why don’t you?” He didn’t seem to care that Subaru was dressed in a blood-stained T-shirt and jeans. “You could’ve pulled my arm right out of its socket.”
“Kamui,” Subaru said slowly, “I notice you’re not moving towards the door, and I suggest you remedy that immediately.”
Kamui laughed, a low-pitched laugh that seemed to crawl over Subaru’s skin. “I will,” he said. “If you can convince me that you really want me to.”
Subaru lost his temper. “Fine.” He grabbed a handful of Kamui’s hair and began to yank him over to the doorway. Kamui let out a little yelp as he was dragged along, then hurled out into the hallway. “Now stay out,” Subaru snarled, and started to close the door.
Kamui sat there, one hand to the now sore spot on his head. But he still had the presence of mind to reach out and grab the door before Subaru could close it. “You haven’t convinced me yet,” he said, and quickly squeezed back through before it could shut all the way. Then he leaned against it as it closed, preventing Subaru from opening it again.
“Kamui,” Subaru said warningly, “I don’t think you have any idea what you’re asking for.”
Kamui just laughed, folding his arms over his bare chest. “Oh? And here you said you’d seen what happened between Fuuma and I.”
Subaru paused, caught off guard by this. “I saw some things, yes. I saw the way he treated you during your fights.” He paused. “I seem to remember excessive use of tongue.”
“Of course,” Kamui said. “Because we only got caught once, still with most of our clothes on, and that was by Sorata, and Sorata believed me when I said Fuuma was trying to rape me and he never brought it up again.”
Subaru stared at him.
Kamui found, oddly enough, that he was nowhere near as ashamed of it as he’d thought he’d been. Of course, that was probably because he was talking to Subaru, and he knew damn well that Subaru had been sleeping with Seishirou despite the fact that they were enemies. “Remind me next time to not get embarrassed when you say you saw what happened between Fuuma and I. You really had no idea, but I believed you anyway.”
Subaru looked at him scornfully.
“You didn’t realize how well I understand you,” Kamui said softly. “Because I hated him, but I loved him anyway, and I needed him. And no matter how much he hurt me, I always liked it. So believe me, Subaru -- I can take whatever you feel like dishing out.”
“Get out,” Subaru whispered. “I’m not going to let you become what I am.”
Kamui laughed. “Don’t you get it, Subaru? I already am what you are. There’s nothing you can do about the fact that I like being hurt and used. The only thing you can do is hurt me and use me the way that you know you want to. You want to become Seishirou, and I’m here to help.”
“Shut up!” Subaru yelled. “That isn’t what I want, damn it!”
“Then what do you want?” Kamui challenged. “Because you’re sure as hell acting like this is what you want!”
“I don’t know,” Subaru said, well aware that he sounded pathetic. “I just don’t know what I want anymore. In those months after . . . after he . . . I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was supposed to be a Dragon of Earth but I didn’t want to be, and no matter how much Fuuma tried he could never get me to really take a side. I had to be the Sakurazukamori. I felt like I owed that much to Seishirou-san. I . . . I killed him, Kamui. I wanted to live the rest of his life for him.”
“Do you think that’s what he wanted?” Kamui asked.
“I have no idea what he wanted,” Subaru answered, sounding miserable. “I never did.”
“Then what about you?” Kamui asked. “You want to live Seishirou’s life. And you want me. The two seem to go together, don’t they?”
“You said you weren’t going to let me do this,” Subaru whispered.
“Yeah,” Kamui said. “Believe me, there’s a method to my madness. I figure if I can get you to actually become Seishirou, you’ll realize that you hate that even more than you hate being yourself, and stop. But you’re never going to give up until you attain the goal.”
Subaru examined this logic and had to admit that it made a fair amount of sense. Becoming Seishirou did seem rather like an unattainable goal, but Kamui was offering to help him reach it -- and if he did, he would have satisfied this pressing need to atone for Seishirou’s death.
They regarded each other in silence for a long minute.
“Get back in bed,” Subaru whispered.
Kamui looked at him, then smirked. “Make me.”
Subaru took a few deliberate steps forward, his eyes locked on Kamui’s. All decisions had been made; he didn’t ask further questions or for further permission. He continued to step forward until he had Kamui pressed against the door. Then he lifted one hand to brush the hair out of Kamui’s face, in a gesture of tenderness though there was no tenderness behind it. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Kamui,” he said, and there was a warning note in his voice.
“Maybe I just like the sound of your voice,” Kamui replied.
Subaru grabbed his wrist and started to pull him efficiently across the room. Kamui went without resistance, allowing Subaru to push him onto the bed the way he had let Fuuma do so many months earlier. Subaru pressed him back against the pillows, settling himself on top of Kamui and leaning down, holding his weight above Kamui to avoid crushing him.
Kamui raised an eyebrow after Subaru simply stayed in that position for a minute. “Aren’t you going to do something?” he asked.
“Yes,” Subaru answered evenly. “I’m just trying to come up with something that you’re not expecting.”
“Well, how about I close my eyes?” Kamui whispered, and did so.
Subaru looked down at him for a long moment, somewhat taken aback by Kamui’s complete trust in him. He didn’t like being trusted like that. It made him nervous, as if he was supposed to live up to an ideal.
Which only left him the option of breaking that trust early, so it hurt less.
His fingers played idly over the skin of Kamui’s chest as he tried to think of a way to start. He wasn’t inexperienced, but he’d never been in charge before, and was unsure of what to do. Seishirou had usually started, in his truly gentlemanly way, by stripping Subaru quickly and efficiently. Given that Kamui was only wearing his boxers, that wasn’t really an option.
Finally, he took hold of Kamui’s wrists again and pulled him into a sitting position. Kamui still didn’t open his eyes, even as he felt Subaru’s weight lift off him. Then he tensed as he heard Subaru settle behind him on the bed, and felt Subaru’s lips brush over the skin of his back.
“This is for that nasty little stunt in the kitchen earlier,” Subaru whispered, his tongue tracing patterns on his skin. Kamui muffled a moan as Subaru’s hands rested on his stomach.
“Your hands are cold,” Kamui managed to say.
“Really?” Subaru asked, pretending to sound interested. “Then you’ll have to warm them up, now won’t you.” His hands descended slowly, working their way beneath Kamui’s boxers. Kamui let out a breathless whimper and tilted his head back. Subaru’s hands really were cold, and to have them on his most sensitive skin was just short of torture. Kamui squirmed helplessly, unable to decide whether or not he wanted the touch to end.
When Subaru’s hands were a slightly more reasonable temperature, he withdrew them and sat back on his knees. Kamui turned around to face him, as he started to pull his shirt off. Kamui reached out to help, one of his hands closing on the fabric, but Subaru put a hand on his chest and pushed him back so sharply that Kamui toppled over and nearly fell off the bed. He lay sprawled out, looking slightly startled, as Subaru finished taking off his shirt and throwing it to the floor.
He’d really had no reason to do that, but it had made him feel better for some odd reason. He knew that in some odd way, Kamui was manipulating him, almost as much as he was manipulating Kamui. He wanted to hurt Kamui, he wanted to break the trust between them, he wanted to make sure Kamui understood exactly what he was.
So when Kamui tried to sit up, Subaru grabbed him by the shoulder, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and pushed him back down. Kamui flinched, visibly. “Why are you -- ”
“Shut up,” Subaru said sharply. “We do this my way, or not at all. You said you wanted to be hurt, so I’ll hurt you. You don’t talk unless I say you can.”
Kamui’s eyes widened slightly; he obviously had not expected Subaru would take him literally. But it seemed it was a little too late to back out, so he didn’t move. Subaru lowered himself down onto Kamui and kissed him hungrily, his lips pressing against Kamui’s hard enough to bruise. Kamui was smart enough to not move, though he did kiss back, gasping as Subaru’s teeth closed on his lower lip.
He closed his eyes as Subaru began to kiss his way down his neck, nipping gently at each place his lips touched, then not-so-gently once he reached Kamui’s collarbone. Kamui bit his lip to keep from crying out, wondering if he would be bruised in the morning. Subaru’s fingers trailed down his chest, tracing over every place he kissed. Then his hands moved further down, pressing hard against Kamui’s quickly-growing erection through the cloth. Kamui groaned softly.
“See?” Subaru asked, licking at Kamui’s neck. “I told you that you’d like it. Is this what Fuuma did to you?”
“No,” Kamui gasped out, forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to speak. “He was never this gentle.”
Subaru raised an eyebrow at this statement. “Is that so.” He leaned down to whisper in Kamui’s ear, his hand still moving against the front of Kamui’s boxers. “You can’t really help me be Seishirou-san, you know. He loved to fuck the innocents. And you’re not innocent enough. You were already Fuuma’s. You’re just as dirty as I am.”
Kamui stifled a moan. “I’ve still got a little left,” he protested. “You can fuck an innocent. You can fuck the innocence right out of me.” His lips twitched in a smile, amused by the little play on words.
“I don’t think there’s any left,” Subaru murmured, nibbling on Kamui’s earlobe. “Or else you wouldn’t already be like this -- ” He punctuated this statement by giving Kamui a little squeeze -- “from what we’ve done.”
Kamui moaned again, tilting his head to one side. “All right, you’re right, I’m nothing but a dirty little whore, now get on with it already, please . . .”
“I’ll get on with it in my own damn time,” Subaru said, but he obliged by pulling off Kamui’s boxer shorts. “You know,” he said, “if you were having sex with someone who loved you, they would tell you that you’re beautiful right about now.” He leaned down and kissed the flat of Kamui’s stomach. “Seishirou-san told me I was beautiful, but I never believed him. You’re not beautiful. You’re too skinny and you’re too young.”
“So find someone else,” Kamui snapped.
Subaru slapped him lightly across the face. “You aren’t allowed to speak, remember?”
Kamui blinked at him, holding one hand to his injured cheek. “Fuuma never hit me,” he said mildly.
“And Seishirou never hit me. Fuuma shoved large chunks of metal through your body.”
“Never during sex,” Kamui retorted.
“So I guess that makes me more fucked up than both of them,” Subaru replied. “Now shut up or I’ll hit you again.”
“Like hell you would,” Kamui said, his eyes a silent dare which Subaru obliged, hitting him again, harder. Kamui tasted blood in his mouth.
“What are you going to tell all your friends in school tomorrow, Kamui?” Subaru asked, then said, “Oh, I forgot -- you don’t have any friends. Except for Keichii, and he’s obviously an idiot, because he believes whatever you tell him when you come in injured.”
“Shut the hell up,” Kamui snarled.
Subaru hit him again. “Are you going to explain it to him?” he asked. “Explain to him that you like being treated this way? I thought you weren’t ashamed of it anymore.”
“I’m not ashamed of myself,” Kamui snapped back. “I’m ashamed of you.” He knew he was deliberately provoking Subaru, and if he got the Sumeragi much angrier, he might be in serious trouble.
But Subaru just laughed. “Ashamed of me? Join the crowd, Kamui. These days it seems everyone is.” He got up then, but only long enough to take off his pants and underwear, then straddle Kamui again. “Did Fuuma let you talk this much?” he asked.
“No, Fuuma gagged me,” Kamui answered flatly.
“I can see why,” Subaru said. “You’re annoying.” He leaned down and kissed Kamui again, shutting him up just as effectively as any gag had ever done. They stayed like that for a few long moments while Subaru’s tongue explored every corner of Kamui’s mouth, his hands running up and down the entirety of Kamui’s body. Whenever Kamui lifted his hands to return the caresses, Subaru slapped them away. Kamui didn’t know why Subaru was resisting to being touched so much, but after the first few tries, he gave up.
Subaru made him sit up long enough to shift position so they were at the head of the bed again, where he could reach the nightstand. “Why the hell do you still have that?” Kamui asked as Subaru pulled a tube of lubricant out of the drawer.
“Isn’t mine,” Subaru replied curtly. “He left it here.”
Kamui was going to reply to that, but he lost his grip on language skills as soon as Subaru started using the lubricant for its purpose. His back arched as one of Subaru’s fingers pressed into him, and he tried to force his muscles to relax. Subaru prepared him quickly but efficiently, and Kamui barely had time to adjust to the sensation before Subaru’s fingers were gone.
Subaru settled into position and waited a few seconds for Kamui to prepare himself, the younger boy wrapping one leg around his waist. He didn’t bother to move slowly or gently; the lubricant would prevent any real harm from being done, and he wasn’t in the mood to be patient. Kamui cried out sharply as Subaru entered him, his fists clenched in the blankets below him.
After that, it was fairly short. Subaru didn’t exactly rush through things, but he didn’t bother to take time prolonging it either. He did last a little longer than Kamui, who screamed Subaru’s name as he came. Subaru was still silent, as he’d been the entire time except for when he’d been talking.
Afterwards they lay in silence for a while. Kamui felt something vaguely akin to shock settling over him. He felt numb.
“Well,” he finally said, rolling over to face Subaru. “How do you feel?”
Subaru picked up his pack of cigarettes from the bedside table and lit one. “Better than ever.”
~~~~
“Oi, Kamui, what on earth happened to you?” Keichii tried to prevent himself from staring blatantly at the dark bruise across the side of Kamui’s face and failed miserably. No matter how many times he blinked, it was still there. Kamui looked rather ruffled, as though he’d thrown himself together at the last minute, while running out the door. And his tie, as usual, was crooked.
“I, uh, got in a fight,” Kamui mumbled, not meeting Keichii’s eyes. He tried to meet Keichii’s eyes, but found his vision kept sliding off somewhere to his right.
Keichii reached out and examined the bruise gently. “That’s nasty. Someone must have hit you really hard.”
“More like several times,” Kamui said, still mumbling and his eyes still fixed on that spot a few inches to the right of Keichii’s shoulder. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not injured anywhere else, are you?” Keichii asked anxiously. “What happened?”
“Just some asshole thought he could take my money.” Kamui cracked his knuckles and attempted to look threatening, which obviously amused Keichii quite a bit, though he tried to hide it. “He had to hit me a few times before he believed that I didn’t have any.”
“Oh,” Keichii said. “Did you tell security?”
“Nah, it wasn’t on campus.” Kamui had rehearsed this story while practically running to school. “Happened last night while I was walking around. Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”
“Hey, why weren’t you in school yesterday?” Keichii asked, suddenly recalling that he hadn’t been.
“I forgot to set my alarm clock,” Kamui said, which was nominally true. “I overslept so badly that by the time I woke up, there wasn’t really any point in coming.”
“Oh,” Keichii said. “Well, you’re really lucky -- we were supposed to have a test in chemistry but Suiko-sensei was out sick . . .” He prattled on as he and Kamui walked towards the school building.
Kamui started suddenly, realizing what Keichii had said. “We have a chemistry test today, then?” he blurted out.
Keichii blinked at him and nodded. “Oh, well, I’m sure Suiko-sensei won’t make you take it, as you’ve been out so much recently . . .”
Kamui shook his head resolutely. “I don’t want to get any more behind than I already am.” He looked at Keichii rather shyly. “Do you think you could help me study during lunch? I’ve done all the makeup work, I just need someone to check my answers for me . . .”
Keichii grinned widely. “Sure, I’d be glad to help.” He looked up as the first bell rang. “Oops, gotta go. I’ll meet you in the usual place, okay?”
Kamui nodded, smiling a little as Keichii jogged off towards his first class. He forced himself to pay attention through his morning classes, despite being more than a little sore from the night’s activities.
It amused him slightly to find that though Subaru’s harsh words hadn’t bothered him while they’d been in bed together, they were echoing in his ears now. He fiddled with his pencil, wondering vaguely if Subaru really thought he was a dirty little whore. Or, for that matter, if Subaru really thought that he was ugly.
He snapped back to attention as the bell rang for lunch, realizing that he had unintentionally drifted off into thought. He stood up and grabbed his books, hurrying out to meet Keichii, knowing that he needed every minute of study time he could get.
He had done passably on most of the homework, but he’d gotten stuck at a few points, so he listened as Keichii patiently explained them to him in a way he understood. Science wasn’t really his best subject, though Keichii was very good at it. He concentrated as hard as he could, ignoring the throbbing pain in his face.
Keichii bent over him, frowning at an answer that he couldn’t quite figure out where Kamui had gotten. “Oh, I see, you -- ”
“Keichii?” Kamui said softly.
Keichii paused. “What?”
“Do you think I’m ugly?”
Keichii blinked at him, bewildered. “Huh?”
Kamui shook himself. “Never mind. It was a stupid question. I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
Keichii was still staring at him. “Of course you’re not ugly,” he said. “Where on earth did you get that idea?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing, really.” Kamui stared down at the incomprehensible chemistry problem. “I can’t do this today, I can’t concentrate . . .”
Keichii sat down next to him. “Kamui, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just had a weird night.”
Keichii sighed. “You know, experience has taught me that you’re never fine, even when you say you are. Even when you look fine, you’re not fine.”
“I just . . . don’t want to talk about it,” Kamui mumbled, ducking the question entirely.
Keichii gave him a long look, then shrugged. “Okay. But you’re not ugly, all right?”
“Yeah,” Kamui said softly. “All right.”
~~~~
And Keichii begins his task in the story, to keep Kamui sane. Everyone hug Keichii, he has quite a job ahead of him.
Chapter Seven
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