Beast Soul

Author: simph8
Rating: NC-17 (for themes)
Warnings: AU, Violence, Assault, Caring
Characters: Takaki Yuya, Chinen Yuri, Yabu Kota, OMC
Notes: Story is set before 'Sanagi'.

Beast Soul

Yuri was alone in Yuya’s apartment, he had been for a couple of days. When he had left, his gaoler had made sure to leave some mark for him to tend to, so that he wasn’t going to forget his role in that household.

The kid hadn't given him the satisfaction to seem him cry, not even when he had held onto Yuya’s hips to try and fight him off while the man thrust inside his mouth; nor he had made a sound when the elder had tied him to the headboard and had started cutting him.

Yuya had left in a bad mood, promising that he was going to make him cry once he would’ve been back.

Yuri, hearing those words, had waited for the door to close behind the yakuza before collapsing on the mattress. He had stayed there for a long while, allowing his body to recover from the latest abuses, then he had started working.

That morning, after two days of complete peace, Yuri stuck in a bag the sheets, stained of blood, sweat, semen. He hated to sleep in those sheets, but he usually didn’t dare opening his mouth when Yuya was around. He’d rather sleep in that filth than get up after yet another rape to change them.

He distractedly grabbed the keys and headed toward the laundromat. While he waited for his laundry to be ready, he headed toward the supermarket, hoping he was going to get some good deal. Since he had started smoking, his savings had had a drastic decrease, and he had no intention to ask Yuya for more money.

Pushing the cart, Yuri walked in. He wasn’t too close to home there, and he was grateful for the way he seemed to blend in, less curious stares on him than those he got in the family’s territory.

He didn’t like to be where people know his story, what happened to him, why he had been bought by a sadistic and brainless yakuza; he hated the pity or the mockery in those eyes.

He stood in front of the water, unsure. He had been with Yuya for a while now, the most horrible months in his life, and he had already experimented how contradictory the yakuza’s behaviour could be.

For example, when they ran out of drinking water, Yuya thought he was too weak or too young or whatever to carry it home on his own. And night, anyway, he was enough of an adult to satisfy his most sadistic perversions.

Yuri shrugged and headed to the frozen goods. As it often happened, what he needed was in the highest shelf, and there was no one around to help, apparently.

He grabbed what looked like a small stool and opened the refrigerator door, stretching as much as he could; still, he was unable to reach what he needed.

He had just grabbed the edge of the bag, when the stool gave out under him and he lost balance, dragging with himself a few of the bags from the shelf, and the shelf itself.

Hearing the noise, a clerk joined him in a matter of seconds, a very not amicably look on his face.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, making other customers turn to look at them as well.

“I... I couldn’t reach it, so I thought...” Yuri stuttered, but was interrupted.

“You’re all a bunch of vandals, there’s no excuse!” the man uttered, dragging him to the counter. “Give me your parents’ number. Someone’s got to pay for the damage.

Yuri blushed hard and kept his mouth shut, his eyes on the floor.

He heard a few whispers around him, recognizing him as ‘the kid who lives with him’. He turned to see who had said that, and right that moment he saw a few of Yuya’s shatei walks inside. Yuri knew them well enough, they had been at the apartment a few times.

Averting his eyes wasn’t enough to go unnoticed, and the men quickly gathered up around him, pushing the clerk away. 

“Look! It’s our aniki’s whore.”

“Do you miss him?” another one sneered, messing with his hair.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be long. Yuya’s coming back today, isn't he?”

“Yes.” Yuri hissed, pulling away and trying to get some distance.

One of them, the one who looked more threatening, grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the centre of the circle.

“How about we take advantage of the situation? Usually sluts aren't very chatty.” he suggested.

Yuri raised his eyes on him, horrified.

“Are you crazy? If Yuya finds out, we’re as good as dead.” one of them whispered, looking around as if the walls could hear them.

“It won’t happen.” the man reassured, grabbing Yuri’s chin and raising his face to get a better look at him, his thumb brushing his lower lip. “And anyway, Yuya would believe us. We’re his men.”

An enthusiastic prattle came from the rest of the men, and Yuri started to fear the worst. One of them grabbed his hair, dragging him out of the store, so the younger started fighting back, writhing and yelling to let him go. He managed to take a hold of the arm of the man and bit down hard on it.

The yakuza screamed, pushing him away, but not far enough to avoid the slap which made him fall on the ground.

Yuri felt his eyes get misty, his lip hurting like hell. He clenched his fists, taking a couple of deep breaths.

He hadn't given Yuya the satisfaction to hear him cry and beg, for sure he wasn’t about to give it to them. He still had some dignity left.

A third shatei got closer and started kicking his stomach so hard that the kid felt the taste of blood in his mouth, tears streaming down his face. It didn’t matter how much he made him angry, Yuya had never kicked him.

He was about to try and get up, but someone grabbed him again and he was soon thrown on the ground in an alley close to the supermarket; Yuri felt the body of one of them on top of him, but he was too dizzy to think about a way to run.

He writhed, clenching his eyes as soon as he felt the rain starting to pour, and he cursed himself for having been so incautious. Yuya had always told him to be careful when wandering off through Kabuki-cho.

And now he hadn't listened to him, and he was paying for it.

The shatei’s voices pierced his ears, deafening, while Yuri felt their hands everywhere. One of them took his sweater off, and again he tried to struggle as hard as he could, in vain.

Another one had taken off his pants as well, and under his touch Yuri felt even more disgusting than usual. He slowly raised a leg, then he kicked the man above him in the stomach.

He panted, trying to recover his breath, and a split second later his head was banged against the ground.

He collapsed, his breathing so heavy and slow that trying to do anything at all was pointless, so he kept his head low while everything moved too fast for him to realize what was going on.

Those hands were on him again, stripping him of the last clothes he had left, but no one got to do anything because then there was a gunshot.

The shatei turned their head toward the main road, and Yuri heard a few of them hold their breaths. He struggled to open his eyes, pulling himself up.

He opened his eyes wide, horrified, when he recognized Yuya. He backed off against a wall, covering himself up with his own arms, and trying to protect himself as if he was guilty of something, but Yuya was ignoring him.

“Aniki, it’s not what it looks like.” one of them started.

“Yeah, your slut begged us.” another one panted.

“He told us you weren’t enough for him so…” the man who had first suggested to take advantage of Yuri left his sentence hanging, sure he was going to stroke Yuya’s pride.

Yuri looked at them, incredulous, believing that their low strategy was actually going to work. Yuya was going to believe them, and all of his efforts to survive would’ve been in vain.

Despite what he might’ve thought, Yuri heard another gunshot, masked by the noise of the now heavy rain. The shatei closest to him screamed, collapsing on the ground and bringing a hand to his thigh, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Aniki, listen to us!” one of them yelled, but it was useless.

Yuya looked like a ferocious beast pointing its prey. The kid pushed himself harder against the wall, unable to move a muscle, leaving his hair stick to his head, wet. He stared at the scene in front of him, trying to ignore the scream of fear and pain from the shatei.

He wished he could’ve felt something, but he wasn’t going to pity them more than he would’ve ever pitied Yuya.

The yakuza’s clothes were wet and bloody, just like the blade of the knife he had took out to cut a few fingers off of them, just like the gun which had shot them.

But it was when Yuya laid his eyes on his that Yuri really got scared, like he had never been in his whole life. He raised his eyes when the yakuza got in front of him, squinting because of the rain.

“I didn’t want to. You have to believe me.” he murmured his voice shivering for the cold and the fear.

The yakuza held out a hand.

“I know, Yuri.” he told him, dead serious.

Yuri nodded and took his head, holding it to pull himself up, holding the clothes he still hadn't put on again.

“Why have you stayed naked under the rain?” the elder asked, his pitch higher.

“I... I don’t know. I froze, I suppose.” Yuri admitted, looking around. “Are they all dead?”

“A couple. But it’s their fault, they fought back.” he shrugged, indifferent.

“Too bad. Like you, they deserve to die too.” Yuri whispered, lapidary.

“Do you want them to die?” Yuya asked.

Yuri bit his lip and then shook his head, seeing the amused grin on Yuya’s face.

“Anyway.” the yakuza sighed. “Damn, you’re an idiot. You should’ve put your clothes back on.” he snorted, taking his jacket off and putting it on Yuri’s shoulder. “Come on. The car’s right here.”

Yuri nodded and, careful to where he stepped, he let the elder take him home.

~

He and Yuya didn’t talk. Not during the ride home, nor during the hot bath they took together, nor when they got back into the bedroom to put on dry clothes, or when Yuya tended to his wounds.

Yuri needed to calm down, so he sat down at the kitchen table, a cup of tea tight in his hands.

Yuya watched him from the couch and lit up a cigarette, then he stood up and went sitting in front of him.

“Why were you so far from home?” he asked. “You know you have to stay in the neighbourhood, I told you a thousand times.”

The younger tightened his hold on the cup and bit his lip.

“It was just a couple of blocks, I didn’t think...”

“What would’ve happened if I hadn't arrived?” Yuya yelled, nervous; he hit a hand on the table, leaning toward him.

“Nothing different from what you do to me, Yuya.” Yuri hissed, cold.

The yakuza grabbed his chin, ignoring his pained groan.

“Then you shouldn’t have fought, you should’ve let them fuck you without bitching about it.”

“Next time your watchdogs are going to jump me while you’re gone I’ll remember, thank you so much.” Yuri spat the words, wiggling out of his hold and backing off, regretting almost immediately to have talked back to him.

He wasn’t at his best, and Yuya wasn’t known for his comprehension.

The elder quickly walked around the table, making him turn and pushing him hard against it, spreading his legs.

His long fingers tightened around Yuri’s neck, but he stopped when he heard him pant heavily for the pain and saw him crying quietly.

It didn’t make sense, Yuya knew it. Saving him from a rape and then grant him the same treatment was idiotic.

The cut on Yuri’s forehead was still bleeding, his hands were scratched, he might’ve had a broken rib and had bruises all over his body, also an eye which started to become dangerously bluish.

Yuri cried against the table’s surface, unable to control the pain from being held down.

He held the edged tight, his knuckles white, and Yuya was sure that must’ve hurt too.

He wasn’t used to see Yuri cry. At all.

It was a picture that a part of him desired to sleep well at night, but there was another side of him, the one he kept hidden, that wished he didn’t have to see this. But the animal roaring in his chest demanded blood, and the blood was Yuri’s.

It wasn’t his fault, not directly. He needed it to survive, and the younger had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong family.

It wasn’t Yuya’s fault. Not at all, he kept telling himself, as if he had to put to rest a conscience he didn’t have.

He pulled away, seeing him fall on the ground, a hand tight on his ribcage, crouched on himself.

“I’d say it’s time to go to bed.” Yuya told him, turning and heading to the bedroom.

Yuri got up, sneezing, then he sat back at the table and finished his tea.

When he got to bed, later, he heard Yuya snoring already and sighed in relief. He took his slippers off and laid down, having a few troubles doing so. He turned his back to the yakuza and closed his eyes, knowing falling asleep was going to be impossible.

He could still hear their voices in his head and their hands on his body. He felt filthy, and not even brushing the sponge violently over his skin was going to erase that.

He had felt like that once already, the first time Yuya had forced himself on him.

Then he had gotten used to the violence, to his hands, to that voice moaning in his hear, humiliating him.

But the hands he felt now where different from Yuya’s. The yakuza wanted to have his orgasm, and hurting him was a mean to get that, which had led him to buy Yuri.

The shatei wanted to humiliate him, to hurt him, to prove him Yuya wasn’t all the protection he needed to be safe.

Well, they had miscalculated, apparently.

He was more or less safe now, in bed, warm, knowing he had escaped something he was sure he wouldn’t have survived.

“You don’t have to wander off alone too far from here.” Yuya said out of the blue, making him jump.

“I'm sorry.” he murmured, keeping still. “I thought you were sleeping.” he added, low.

“Why were you there?” the yakuza asked, ignoring him.

“Well, there’s the laundromat, the supermarket, I...” he bit his lip. “I wanted to save some money.”

“Isn't there enough money for grocery and stuff?” Yuya asked incredulous, and the younger felt him turn around to look at him, but Yuri felt too ashamed to do the same.

“Yes, it’s enough, but...” he bit even harder on his lower lip, ignoring the pain. “I didn’t want to ask for money for the cigarettes.” he admitted, in a whisper.

“Cigarettes?” the yakuza repeated, bewildered. “You mean yours?” he asked then.

Yuri nodded slowly.

“And why didn’t you ask?” he uttered, more and more confused.

“Well... I don’t know, I didn’t think you would’ve given them to me. It’s your money.”

“Kami, you truly are an idiot when you want to, Yuri. I’ve got enough money to let you have all you could possibly desire, you know that.”

“Oh.” he murmured. “So I don’t have to go there anymore?”

“Of course not. I don’t want you to get away from the neighbourhood alone, am I clear?”

Yuri nodded, more relaxed.

Yuya’s hand awkwardly patted his head, and for the younger was the best soothing gesture he could receive.

He closed his eyes, feeling finally better, as if the worst thing happened that day had been the downpour.

~

Yuya felt weird. Kota had picked him up, because he had no intention to drive under the rain.

He was smoking, the window down and a foot up on the dashboard. The car’s owner wanted to say something, anything, but he had given up a long time ago.

Yuya seemed in a bad mood already, and since they had to spend the whole day at the office he had no intention to make him even more nervous.

Once they reached the building, the two yakuza walked up to their office; much to their surprise – or at least to Kota’s – they found their boss waiting for them.

Yuya clicked his tongue, averting his eyes. He should’ve imagined the previous day’s ‘glitch’ wasn’t going to go unnoticed.

“Yuya, you’ve always done as you pleased, since you’ve joined the family.” the man started, ignoring the look on his face. “What were you thinking, exactly?”

“What happened?” Kota asked, hesitatingly, raising his eyes on Yuya.

“Nothing much.” his aniki muttered, indifferent. “I’ve taken out a couple of shatei and sent three more to the hospital. So know the concept that Takaki Yuya’s stuff is off limits should stick.” he grinned devilishly.

“Did... did something happen to Yuri?” Kota murmured, anxious.

“No, I jumped in before it could.” Yuya turned toward the boss, serious again. “It’s their issue. Has someone ever complained about my methods until now?” he asked, and all he received in response was silence.

After a pause, the boss sighed.

“Mind the way you treat your things, Yuya. At times, they can be unpredictable.” he told him, then he left the room, promptly followed by his minions.

Yuya clicked his tongue again, irritated, and went sitting at his desk.

“He and his pearls of wisdom he reads on cereal boxes.” he snarled through his clenched teeth. He turned his computer on, then raised his eyes on Kota. “What are you looking at? Start working, I don’t pay you to stare at me.”

The younger sighed, foreseeing a very hard day, and he did as his aniki had asked.

~

Around lunchtime, Kota stretched and grabbed the packet of cigarettes next to the computer, brushing a hand over his eyes. Then he stood up and left the room.

Yuya had kept his mouth shut the whole morning, a thing unusual enough for him, since office work hardly ever sat right with him.

But still, Kota hadn't asked anything. At least, not hearing him complain had been rewarding; he had actually managed to get some work done.

He took the elevator down and walked to the ramen shop where he used to have lunch. His stomach had been growling for a while, but he had tried to resist as long as possible.

He sat at the counter, ordering his usual, when all of a sudden Yuya appeared next to him, still without saying a word.

Kota took a few more minutes of that, but then he got irritated and, ignoring the food in front of him, turned to look at his aniki.

“So, what happened yesterday?” he asked. “All in all, you were right wanting to come back sooner to Tokyo.” he told him, remembering Yuya had said something about a weird feeling the previous day.

Yuya shrugged.

“I saw a few shatei trying to assault Yuri.” he explained, his voice low. As opposed to Kota, he started to eat. “I had to do something, don’t you think so?” he asked, then he focused on the ramen.

“I suppose.” Kota kept it vague, avoiding to speak his mind.

“I don’t see what’s wrong. Yuri belongs to me. I'm the only one who can touch him. Doesn’t it work like that, Kota?”

“That’s why you bought him.” Yabu commented, uninterested.

“Yes. Exactly.” the yakuza licked his lips. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“I’d tell you that children’s trafficking is illegal, but it would sound hypocritical said by a yakuza, wouldn’t it?” Kota shrugged.

Yuya stared at him for a few moments, but he didn’t reply.

“Listen, Yuya.” Kota went on then, impatient. “I’ve got no idea what goes through your mind, and honestly I don’t want to know. You’re the one who bought Yuri, so you’re the only one who knows whether it’s right or wrong to get mad at the fact that a bunch of idiots has dared to touch your precious merchandise. You know what I think of it, it’s useless to try and make me change my mind.”

Yuya clenched his lips, angry, and slammed the chopsticks on the table, getting up and storming off.

“Are you coming back to work this afternoon?” Kota yelled at him.

“Screw you!” the elder told him, nervously, as he left the shop.

Kota sighed, watching at his food, now cold. He rested his head on the counter for a moment, then he left some money and left.

His appetite was definitely gone.

~

Yuya went back home, too irritated at his idiotic shatei to get back to work as he should’ve. Let Kota finish all the work. Let that teach him to keep his mouth shut.

He lit up a cigarette, ignoring the fact of being in the hallway, and grabbed his keys. He walked inside muttering something to announce his presence, then he took his shoes off and walked to the living room.

Something was off, he realized that immediately. Usually, Yuri cleaned the apartment during the morning, and he had gotten used to being welcomed by that nice fresh smell. When he came back, almost always around five if he didn’t have any meeting, problem or shootouts between drug dealers, and he always found Yuri eating some snack or doing the dishes.

It was a routine to which he had gotten used to.

But now, despite being lunchtime – Yuri might’ve also gone out to eat – he couldn’t witness any sign of the fact that Yuri had done anything at all.

He headed almost suspiciously to the kitchen, finding everything as he had left it that morning: the cups and the food were still on the table, alongside the coffee with milk Yuri drank every morning. The sink was still full of the previous days dishes.

Yuya arched an eyebrow, irritated; he hated chaos, he had always hated it. See something out of place reminded him of when his father hit and raped him, accusing him of being an ingrate son, of never doing something for them, those loving parents who had always done everything for him.

Yuya clicked his tongue; he was used to it. Whatever he did, there was always something bringing his mind back to those thirteen years spent with his family, with an alcoholic and paedophile father and a mother who had wisely chosen to flee when he was barely six.

He went back to the living room, but even there nothing seemed to have changed since that morning. In the end, he decided to walk into the bedroom, anger filling his mind.

Defying his duties, Yuri had apparently decided to sleep for the whole day, not only taking Yuya’s duvet, but he had also taken a couple more blankets from the closet, turning the heat up to an unbearable temperature.

Yuya mounted on the bed and pushed away the layers of blankets, uncovering the kid. Yuri didn’t seem to have noticed his presence, he kept still on his side, his arms hanging from the mattress.

Yuya arched an eyebrow.

He had realized a long time ago how Yuri was; he was proud enough to never let him see him cry or beg, and on some days all Yuya wanted was to take him to his limits so that, had he finally bent, he would’ve forgiven himself.

But for sure, he could say everything of him, except that he was stupid. Yuri knew all too well that making Yuya mad was never pleasant for him; besides, the yakuza had ascertained how much of light sleeper the kid was, perhaps still used to the bothering and little reassuring sounds of San’ya. Yuya’s apartment was at the top floor of the building, so there was never too much noise, but that seeming calm still hadn't convinced the kid, who kept his senses on even while he slept.

So, the fact that he wasn’t waking up was suspicious at best. He stared at him a little closer and heard that he was breathing heavier than usual, his forehead sweaty; he started to get worried.

Maybe it was worse than he had previously thought.

He knelt up and then lent down on top of the kid’s legs; Yuri, bothered, turned in his sleep and faced up, his arms bent against the mattress.

Yuya swallowed noisily. He had stilled like that, on top of him; Yuri’s mouth was half open, his face looking even more childish now, with those girlish features which had brought his quota among Yuya’s usual clients to unspeakable highs, considering the fact that many of those rich men changed slave as least three or four times a year.

Yuya had never asked questions about the fate of those he sold, nor his job required such curiosity on his part. He was there to sell a body, what the buyer did with it was none of his business.

The yakuza had took a peak of Yuri two days after he had been brought to the warehouse. Kota had unwillingly informed him of a couple of new arrivals, murmuring between clenched teeth that one of them was probably going to make good money for the family.

He was healthy, and had that look of effeminate child that their clients usually loved.

Yuya had laughed, he remembered it well. He had laughed, saying that it didn’t matter, that he just needed to sell.

Then he had seen him. That arrogant look of who’s convinced he’s got nothing to fear, that the worst is over. Those delicate features, that body so small which made him want to run his hands and his mouth all over it.

He had tried to ignore it, but he hadn't been able to help it. He was never going to admit what Yuri’s price had been, but for sure he had severely affected his bank account.

And right now, despite all the problems he had had living with someone else, he told himself he was well worth all the millions of yens he had coughed up.

He brushed his hand over his face, touching that soft skin he couldn’t live without. He brought his fingers down, marvelling at the way his hand almost covered his entire chest.

The skin on his hips was even softer, and Yuya tightened his hold on his waist, leaning down to smell his skin, feeling aroused.

He nipped his neck, ignoring Yuri’s breathing getting even heavier in his sleep. He licked his skin, kicking the blankets off to press his body against Yuri’s.

He rubbed his cock against him, hiding a groan against the kid’s chest.

At some point his forehead touched Yuri’s and he jumped up, touching it directly with his hand.

He clicked his tongue. He had never been good at establishing temperature with foreheads and hands, but he was quite sure Yuri had a temperature, and a high one.

He slipped next to him and covered him again; then he shook him, harshly. The younger weakly opened his eyes, staring at him.

“You’re back.” he murmured.

“Of course I am. Where should have I been?”

Yuri shrugged.

“I'm not feeling too well, Yuya.” he panted again, pressing himself against the yakuza.

The fever must’ve made him delirious, Yuya thought as he watched him crouch against his chest, between his legs, as if he was a cat.

“You’re warm, Yuya.” the kid whispered then, pulling the duvet on top of his shoulders.

“Mh.” was all the elder commented, trying to ignore his cock stirring between his legs, while a part of him kept yelling that he shouldn’t have given a damn about the fever and the he should’ve fucked him right now.

But Yuya shut that part of himself up and, uncomfortable in the delicacy of that unexpected touch, he leant further toward him, to give him more cover.

The he grabbed his phone and, sure it was going to be a long wait, he started working like that.

~

The next day Yuri woke up feeling definitely better. He had some vague memories about the yakuza dragging him to the living room, at some point, making him eat some questionable ramen and giving him a few medicines to feel better.

Right now, after having slept for over twenty hours, it was definitely better.

He got up and didn’t worry when he didn’t see Yuya next to him; it was better this way. While he felt sick, shivers throughout his whole body, he vaguely remembered having fallen asleep against him, and if he had been afraid of being pushed away, Yuya had surprised him, holding him and trying to keep him warm.

It had pleased him, somehow. He hated Yuya with all himself, but in that particular occasion he had proven to be better than he would’ve thought.

Falling asleep against him, between his arms, had made that night less heavy on him.

He walked inside the living room and found the yakuza asleep on the couch, most likely ran from the blankets and the heat of the bedroom in the middle of the night.

Staggering a little from the dizziness he still felt, he started making breakfast; as soon as he walked inside the kitchen though, his eyes registered immediately the absence of the microwave from the counter; it was now on the floor, next to the fridge.

Yuri arched an eyebrow; he was going to ask Yuya.

He made coffee and heated up the store-bought plum cake in the oven, then he put everything on a tray and brought it to the living room, putting it down on the coffee table.

He shook the yakuza, gently. Yuya wasn’t a deep sleeper, and it was quite easy to wake him up. He saw him yawn and stretched, kicking away the sheet he had used that night.

“Mh. I'm hungry.” he muttered, looking at him.

“I made breakfast.” Yuri smiled, sitting on the couch next to him. “There’s plum cake.”

“Mh. You?” Yuya asked, still uncomfortable, while he dipped the cake inside his coffee.

“I'm not hungry.” he admitted. “I'm... I'm still full from last night.” he said, remembering that together with the soba there was also an egg and some meat in the ramen; Yuya had watched him so full of expectation that he had forced himself to finish it, despite the fact that he had been feeling too sick to eat. “Regarding that, Yuya...” he said then, giving him no time to ask anything else. “What happened to the microwave?”

“Uh. It’s hard to explain.” the elder said, still eating. “I was making the broth, the way you do it. I put the water on, but it wasn’t boiling. So I put it in a cup and I put it in the microwave while I cooked the egg and the meat.

“Mh.” Yuri nodded, stealing a piece of cake from him.

“But then the oil in the pan has started spraying everywhere, and I risked setting the whole place on fire. So I poured water on the fire, and I burned myself. Meanwhile I had forgotten about the microwave. I must’ve put something wrong inside, because at some point I've heard a bang and I saw smoke come out of it.” he shrugged. “So, well. I guess we need a new one.”

Bewildered, Yuri stared at him for a few moments, then he burst out laughing. He risked choking on the cake, but he couldn’t help himself.

Yuya blushed, hard. It was since he had made a name for himself inside the family that no one dared laughing in his face like that.

On the other hand, he was glad to see Yuri was better.

He thought about how much he had wanted to fuck him the previous day, and a part of him was glad he had resisted.

Yes, he had bought Yuri because he wanted to redeem the kid he had been, the one unable to defend himself, and he had bought him because he needed help around the house anyway.

And he had bought him because he felt alone.

At moments like these, he was glad to be there with Yuri. For better or worse, no matter how this was going to end, he wasn’t alone anymore.