Cause I can't Hate You

Author: simph8
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, Non-con, Violence
Characters: Takaki Yuya, Chinen Yuri
Notes: Story takes place before "Sanagi"

Cause I can’t hate you

Yuri held the cigarette between his lips, absorbed, then he took it to make the ash fall. He kept laying on his stomach, his arm bent acting as a pillow for his head, which felt as if it weighed a ton.

He wanted to cry. Cry till the morning after, fall asleep, wake up and cry some more. He wanted to spend his days that way, closed in a vicious circle which he had no intention to break.

From time to time, when Yuya was out of town for work, he spent hours and hours doing absolutely nothing. He laid on the couch or the bed and he smoked, staring at the ceiling.

His brain was free from any though, his body could recover from the continuous violence and he could, as much as he managed, estrange himself from that room and pretend to be elsewhere.

But Yuya wasn’t at work now. He was next to him, only the sheets covering him. He smoked and worked, his laptop sitting on his legs, his hair up and his glasses on.

If someone had told Yuri he would’ve started smoking a few months ago, he would’ve laughed.

He had always hated it. He had vivid memories of his father smoking, every night working in the kitchen with that greyish halo surrounding him.

A lot like Yuya, with the exception that his father didn’t force himself on him.

Of course, he had sold his son to the yakuza. Yuri hated him, just like he hated his mother, just like he hated their perfect life, now that he wasn’t hindering them anymore. He hated them so much he thought he was going crazy.

He put the cigarette out and put the ashtray on the nightstand, still avoiding looking at Yuya. He wanted to sleep till the next day.

He was so exhausted that he couldn’t even wash up or get dressed, after Yuya had raped him again. He was so damn tired, but he couldn’t complain. He could’ve escaped, but then Yuya would’ve killed him.

And he couldn’t die. He didn’t want to, it wasn’t fair. He clenched his fists, biting hard on his lower lip.

Yuya, next to him, sighed and put his laptop down on the nightstand, close to the beer and the half-empty packet of cigarettes. Yuri kept as still as possible, little inclined to lead him on to do something else.

But still, Yuya go closer to him and brought an arm around his waist, pulling him close and inhaling the scent of his skin, his hair, pressing himself against his naked body. Yuri clenched his eyes and clawed at his palms.

He was tired, he wanted to sleep. His wrists were still hurting for how tight Yuya had tied the rope around them, and he could barely feel his arms even now.

“Yuri...” the yakuza murmured in his ear.

“Mh?”

The yakuza pressed himself even further against him, and Yuri felt his need to cry grow.

But he wasn’t going to cry in front of him. It was challenge, but he managed to win this. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

Yuya wanted to see his suffering, his pain. He wanted him to beg, but he was never going to.

He still had some dignity, hidden somewhere inside of him. A pride that all of Yuya’s violence hadn't managed to uproot. He clenched his teeth and wished that this would be over soon.

How could Yuya want more after those hours during which he had done basically everything to him?

How could he still be so arrogant and greedy? Yuri had let him do as he pleased until now, hoping to dim that violence that the elder unleashed upon him.

“Come on, don’t be difficult, Yuri. I don’t want to tie you up again. Cooperate.” he whispered.

Yuri opened his eyes wide. He got scared when Yuya tied him. He was scared of his imagination, of weapons, of pain. He turned toward him almost immediately.

If he wanted him to cooperate, he was going to do that his own way. He closed his eyes, because he didn’t wanted to see him while he gave him pleasure.

Every time he heard a moan from Yuya that he had caused, he felt even more disgusted by himself.

He brought a hand between their bodies, biting on his neck and brushing the fingers of his free hand on his nape while he started stroking his cock, already hard again.

Yuya’s hand pressed behind his back, pushing him closer, and Yuri gave him all he asked for, because then maybe he would’ve managed to fall asleep sooner, trying to forget everything Yuya did to him.

The yakuza scratched his back, and Yuri bit his shoulder, trying to swallow back a groan. The first times, Yuya had been very clear with him: he didn’t want to hear a sound, because it annoyed him. And Yuri had soon found out, at his expenses, how horrible it was to be with him when he was annoyed.

He heard him chuckle while his hand went up his spine and harshly grabbed his hair, pulling him away from his shoulder. Yuri clenched his eyes and bit on his lip; Yuya always managed to hurt him, no matter what he did.

“I like your pained voice, Yuri.” Yuya panted on his mouth, while Yuri’s hand moved faster on him.

“You’re an animal.” Yuri snarled, closing his eyes while the elder bit down on his throat.

“I love how innocent you sound. I plan on feeding off that innocence my whole life.” he whispered, then he pushed his head down. Yuri wiggled out of the elder’s hold on his hair and pushed the covers away, kneeling between his legs and wasting no time bringing his mouth around his cock, starting to suck right away.

Yuya grabbed his head again and thrust his hips up, pushing down his throat. Yuri clawed his thighs, opening his mouth wider to try and not choke.

He hated himself. He hated his own body, he hated Yuya and everything surrounding him.

He hated making him feel any form of pleasure, hated feeling him against and inside himself, it repulsed him. Still, he held his tears back, closed his eyes and went along with Yuya’s thrusts inside his mouth, moving faster, trying to make him come sooner.

Yuya though, seemed to think otherwise. He pulled on his hair, making him back off, and pulled him back on top of himself; Yuri straddled him, trying not to lose balance and to prepare himself for what was to come.

His back hurt, but apparently Yuya couldn’t care less. He felt the tip of his cock move between his buttocks, and Yuri held the yakuza’s shoulders tight, trying to relax his body as much as possible during those few moments.

Yuya grabbed his chin, pulling his face close and forcing him to open his eyes, then he pushed inside. The kid bit down on his tongue until he tasted blood inside his mouth; Yuya tasted that too when forced him to kiss him.

It was rare for him to do that, but it didn’t make it any less disgusting for Yuri. He could feel his tongue against his own, his flavour blending with that of the blood.

Yuri freed himself from that hold, breathing in deeply while the elder smirked, bringing his hands to Chinen’s ass and spreading it, thrusting harder inside.

The younger panted for the main, propping himself up on Yuya’s chest, clenching his eyes and trying to will himself through it, as he had done for all these months.

He scratched him, searching for any kind of way to make it hurt less, unable to do so. When he felt him come he thanked every deity he knew and remembered.

He collapsed on the bed, on his stomach, his breathing broken by the sobs he repressed, his body trembling for the effort and the pain.

Yuya laid next to him, stretching out his arm to grab another cigarette; Yuri heard the lighter and smelled the smoke in the oppressing silence of that room.

He decided to do the same. Smoking calmed him down, it reduced his body’s trembling and his fear. He curled up and brought a cigarette to his lips, nervously breathing the nicotine in.

He felt Yuya’s cum drip from his entrance, staining his thighs, and he wished he could’ve torn off every single inch of filthy skin he had on for how disgusting he felt.

He turned to look at Yuya, laying the best he could to soothe the pain in his back. The yakuza was typing something on his laptop again, ignoring him as he usually did.

Yuri knew he shouldn’t have pushed it too much with Yuya, that it was better if the elder didn’t grow tired of him.

Because he remembered well what Arioka had told him during his short time at the warehouse. Those who could afford buying a human being, could also afford to kill them. They played with them like a cat does with a mouse before eating it.

They used them, they had fun, they picked them clean of any will to live and then, when the game wasn’t funny anymore, they threw them away. And Yuri didn’t want to die. He wanted to live his life, to find out if there was something good waiting for him.

Yuya was better than many others, all in all, both him and Kota always told him that. Others like Yuri were locked up like animals, they barely had food and clothes and dignity. He was a king compared to them.

He did what he wanted, he could go wherever he pleased as soon as he stayed in the neighbourhood. He had clothes, books, food. In exchange, Yuya used his body, he asked his complete submission; as much as it disgusted him, he had it easy because of this.

Kiss the hand that feeds you. And he was intentioned to do so. To make himself always appealing to the yakuza, because he didn’t know where he would’ve ended if Yuya had grown tired of him. Perhaps in one of the brothels, and there his life would’ve ended for sure.

He swallowed noisily, trying to make his voice sound as steady as possible.

“How was work today?” he whispered.

Yuya stopped typing and stared at him, arching an eyebrow. He took his glasses off, to get a better look at him.

Uncomfortable for that gaze which seemed to pierce through him, the kid pulled the sheets up, covering himself.

“Why?”

Yuri shrugged, nervous.

“Because. It was just to make conversation, but if it bothers you...”

“It doesn’t. But you’ve never asked.” he pointed out.

Yuri shrugged again.

“I'm getting used to it. You’re not a nice roommate, you know?” he forced a smile, still preparing to be slapped.

Against all odds though, Yuya laughed. It was the first time Yuri heard him laugh. Until then, all he had seen were his smirks, mocking him, making him feel like trash.

“Well, living with you and your glower doesn’t help.”

Yuri wanted to tell him there was no fun in living with a psycho yakuza raping him every moment of wake, but he just took it.

He had to keep quiet, try to build some sort of relationship, as much as it disgusted him.

“I'm sorry.” he said, averting his eyes.

They kept silent for a while, and the younger watched Yuya get back to work. It took him a few more minutes to gather up the courage to go on.

“What did you use to do before taking me in? Do you have any hobby?” he asked, his voice still incredibly low.

Yuya interrupted his work again, thinking about it.

“I went down to play cards with the others, I don’t do that much anymore. I got my TV. I also used to go out with...” he paused, sighing. “Nothing in particular. I was often so tired from work that all I wanted was to sleep.”

“Mh.” was Yuri’s only comment, hesitant.

During those months, he had seen him get directly to bed without passing through him five or six times. Tops.

“What about you?” Yuya asked, catching him off guard.

Yuri raised his eyes on him, then he shook his head.

“School. Clubs. From time to time I went to the game centre in Meguro or Shinagawa. A few times I ditched school and went to Yokohama, to Minato Mirai. I like that place.” he said.

“Mh. Well, you could’ve said that before. Instead of being holed up here, we can go there on Saturdays.”

Yuri opened his eyes wide.

“Really?”

“Of course. I’ve got a car, time and money. Whatever you need, you just have to ask.”

“Oh.”

Yuri tried his hardest not to blush, reminding himself what kind of man Yuya was, what he did to him every single day. Still, seeing him show some interest had made him feel a little more than a piece of meat to pick clean when he came home from work. He lit up another cigarette, trying not to smile.

“Is there something else you like?” Yuya asked then, curious, closing the laptop and putting it away as he laid down next to him.

“I like sushi.” he admitted. “I love it.”

“Good. Now we also know what we’re eating in Yokohama.”

Yuri nodded, satisfied. He was never going to forgive Yuya for what he did to him, for what he was going to do. But since that wasn’t going to change, the least he could’ve done was trying to get to know the man behind the beast.

They both had something to gain by that cohabitation, and Yuri wanted to live even if surviving meant making Yuya more human than he was, and ignore the disgust he felt toward himself.

But he was going to. And maybe, one day, all of that was going to be a far, far nightmare.