Chapter Text
“H-How…” Yoichi stuttered desperately. Breathing felt hard, impossible, the stale stench of blood and torn human flesh in the air growing thicker around his throat. “H-how can you… Do… This..?”
“Do what?” Rin raised an eyebrow. “Eat human meat?”
There was a decisive pause where Rin tipped his head like he finally understood the exclamation.
“Flavor?” Rin ran his fingers through the unruly, now greasy strands of Yoichi’s dark blue hair, almost gentle at first. Like he was a lover, or a friend, or anything but what he was, really. “If I cared about flavor, I'd stick to lamb. Did keeping you here for too long rot your brain, shitty Isagi?”
His grip tightened in Yoichi’s hair, and he yanked his head up, meeting those striking blue eyes. The same ones that have caught his attention the first time. Now frozen, looking empty, like Yoichi wasn't looking at anything at all.
Rin scoffed, unimpressed. “Obviously, it's not good meat. Too lean in places, too rigid in others. Stress ruins it. Fear ruins it. You can taste that, you know.”
Yoichi’s chest heaved with terror when he finally looked at Rin’s face. Although Rin hadn't expected much from him, he still felt disappointed. He had hoped Yoichi would understand, maybe even agree. The Yoichi that Rin had watched so closely all this time was open to the strangest ideas, ready for adventure. The Yoichi that Rin thought he knew so well didn't look at people like this.
He was an angel. Constantly terrified from upsetting others and sickeningly nice, a genuine angel. Who Rin hoped would resort to crashing through all his problems head-on – for once – rather than silently endure them until he broke down curled on the cold floor of his bedroom.
Rin didn't know why, but since he had watched those gurgling sobs wrench out of Yoichi’s chest, a sick urge to protect bloomed at his fingertips.
The urge to be the only person to ever make Yoichi cry, as well as the urge to tear into whoever had caused such hot tears to fall down Yoichi’s pretty face. They came in equal measure. Because, to Rin, to love was to sink his teeth down one’s throat. To love was to become part of someone's composition forever. To love, Rin thought, was to bite down into tender flesh cooked to perfection and let it stain his teeth with the unmistakable malice of human hunger.
Except his hunger was completely real and it was the only thing he had never doubted about himself. He had never eaten someone he didn't like, not once. All his victims were chosen on a desirous whim or an incomprehensible fancy that started at the tips of his fingers, itching to act, just like this.
He glanced at Yoichi’s shivering figure under the faint lamplight and dragged his hand down from Yoichi’s hair, gripping Yoichi’s chin instead.
“Strip,” Rin said coldly.
The word barely registered as language in Yoichi’s mind.
His chest heaved. “Wha–”
“I said strip.” Rin repeated, harsher. It wasn't like Yoichi had any power to refuse in the situation they were in. Yoichi was his captive. Completely his. Rotting in the dim basement Rin ran most his activity in, another body to add to the count. “I want to see what I'm working with.”
Rin did see it before. Multiple times, if anything.
He watched Yoichi change out of his clothes just as he watched Yoichi do everything else, zooming in on the flex of muscle, the creasing of Yoichi’s delicate joints, the unblemished, smooth skin. It looked delicious. So fucking delicious Rin wanted to test it himself. He wanted to bruise it and to lick it, and to eventually feast on it. He imagined the hollow bones sitting in a hearty broth and his heart rate quickened with anticipation and desire.
Rin was a simple guy: he knew exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it. The moment he saw Yoichi – most accurately, every other moment he brushed by Yoichi – he was met by the glaring reality that he wanted him, more than he wanted a lot of other things.
He ran his finger over the cutting edge of his favorite machete, giving Yoichi the time to struggle out of his top, trembling all over as he did so, breathing in sharp puffs of air that never seemed to reach his lungs.
“Make it quick,” Rin’s brow furrowed in irritation. “I don't have all day.”
Yoichi’s entire body jerked up as the machete hovered at his skin. His pupils were blown so wide open they could've swallowed his whole face. He gasped at nothing, over and over again, almost going cross-eyed the more he followed the movement of the impossibly sharp blade. His overwhelmed mind zeroed in on it like it would slice him open if he as little as blinked.
“Puh– Please, m-m…”
“You're not naked yet,” Rin’s gaze was dark.
Yoichi gasped another breath as his fingers fumbled around his zipper. He struggled with it for a good moment before the machete drew closer, and Yoichi pulled his pants down, wriggling to get them down his hips frantically.
Rin studied him carefully.
The same beautiful body, gentle skin and bone structure that Rin remembered. It was a sight to behold, regardless of the context.
Rin pursed his lips a little as he looked at the now firmer muscle. Yoichi must have worked out more often lately, and it was starting to bear its results. Usually, Yoichi would have football practice followed by a gym session from 5 pm to 8 pm every day of the week except for Fridays and occasionally the weekend. Rin knew Yoichi’s – former – schedule like the back of his hand. But even in these settings, Yoichi would rarely wear short or revealing clothes. A modest little quirk, that had Rin wondering if there had been a different, deeper reasoning for it than what he knew of.
Rin circled the machete around Yoichi’s thigh looking like he was deep in thought. “The meat around here would work nicely in a steak.”
He went all the way up again, pointing it at Yoichi’s blue, very blue eyes. “But your stupid face’s too pretty to eat.”
“Get the–” Yoichi gasped out, finding some strength in his voice and backing down into the floor. “Get this– this knife away fuh– from my fucking face!”
The snapping tone had Rin actually taken aback for a solid minute. Then, his lips stretched into a wicked grin. “What did you just say?”
Yoichi felt that sudden grit leave his body in real time, slipping between his fingers. The adrenaline was still there, though– present in just enough measure to prevent him from shrinking into himself and attempting to crawl away on his hands and knees like a wounded animal.
“Get the fuck away from me!” He managed to repeat without stuttering although his voice cracked in terror, lifting his gaze to meet those cold teal-colored eyes. Not a single one of Rin’s unhinged smiles seemed to ever reach them. “I'm not stupid and you won't– you won't fucking eat m–”
“It seems untying you was a bad idea.” Rin scoffed. There was a faint amusement in his tone, as if watching Yoichi flail like this was simultaneously a hassle and a spectacle. Before Yoichi could try to question what that meant, a long piece of dark satin grew closer and closer to his face.
“W– let– no–!” Rin’s palm clamped in place hard over his lips and stopped him from speaking. For a few seconds this frightened him even more. He couldn’t breathe clearly, the other man’s fingers covering his nose, so he struggled harder against him, muffled squeaks and cries trying to escape, mostly muted. Yoichi’s vision turned into a gridded darkness as the blindfold settled over his eyes. He couldn't move his hands, tied together at the wrists once again.
Rin had always thought himself different from, say, “traditional” serial killers. Mutilation, rape, severed heads and limbs scattered across town, weren't his thing. He had a certain respect for his victims that extended beyond their ultimate demise. They lived along with him, in his own body. Eating them was the final and biggest act of love and mercy and every other embellished synonym that other people claimed so easily, hypocritically.
He didn't understand why Yoichi didn't appear to him as every other victim that had graced this desolate basement so far. Especially now, not only tied up, wriggling pathetically, but also completely naked. Rin had never nursed such a strong urge before, now it seethed in his mind first before blood rushed south.
Yoichi’s breath hitched. He was near blind, everything around him melted into darkness that for once felt unwelcoming, unsafe and entirely out of his control. The rest of his senses perked up sharply at the lack of vision except it felt like a curse rather than a blessing or a survival mechanism, for the edge of the machete against his skin left a long, careful line, making him shiver.
Something pointy prodded at him from behind. Tight big and unmistakably an erection. Fuck, Yoichi realized that none other than Rin was handling him like modeling clay, spreading him out on the cold floor, until Yoichi felt his cheek press into it, ass up in the air. He realized why Rin didn't tie his ankles together this time. Yoichi wasn't used to being completely bare and it was fucking cold, and everything smelled so horrible, like death itself.
No. This can't be his first time. He can't let this happen, he can't let someone like Rin take his virginity. In a place like this, in this context.
“For all your incessant complaining,” Rin pinned him effortlessly under him as he thrashed, sounding a strange mixture of unimpressed and excited. “I hope you moan well.”
“Puh… Please don't,” Yoichi found himself pleading. The last resort, of course, was to wish Rin had some humanity left in him. He was surrendering the more he realized thrashing around didn't change anything but in fact just made his captor more aggressive and less likely to go easy on him in any way that mattered. “Kill me, kill me please, don't do this.”
A broken moan died out into the stone floor as Rin inserted something slick and long into his entrance. Fingers, Yoichi guessed from the scritch of a particularly long nail. They were lubricated, at least, but Yoichi's body folded around the unexpected, painful sensation, not used to it. He moaned again as the digits prodded at his walls, making way for something bigger.
Rin retracted his index and middle finger and Yoichi’s hole popped shut with a wet sound. Yoichi trembled, wriggling his ass in search of them. He hated that he did so, he hated that he felt suddenly empty. Rin grinned though Yoichi couldn't see that.
It felt so good to have Yoichi under his control like this. Addictively good, really.
“Stop…” Yoichi gasped when the fingers slipped inside again with the addition of a third. They scissored him open so thoroughly that Yoichi felt his own cock, forgotten as it was, start to rise. His face flushed a deep shade of pink, because why was this happening? He didn't want it to. He didn't want to crave for more, he didn't want to feel aroused by it.
“Hmm?” Rin seemed to notice. He draped his larger, stronger frame over Yoichi’s, breath fanning at the back of Yoichi’s neck, his touch cold against the hot, whirring skin. Yoichi complained weakly when Rin seized his cock in his free hand, starting to pump it. “Why did you tell me to stop? You're enjoying this, aren't you?”
“I'm not…!” Yoichi moaned out and regretted it right away, burying his face into the ground underneath them. It was dirty and he felt the dried blood streaking it with every pore in his skin, but it was safer than letting Rin see his face, flushed with pleasure and shame, when he was unable to see it himself. Yoichi shivered violently when Rin’s ice-cold hand crept up to his chest.
“Mnn… no…”
Rin’s fingers fondled with his nipples and pressed down on the shape of his breasts. They were cold, it was impossible not to feel the sting of that difference in temperature let alone the hitched sensation itself that had Yoichi digging his curled toes into the floor as if the stone could physically cave in. It felt like Rin was sizing his entire body. Inspecting it, muscle by muscle, nerve-ending by nerve-ending.
“You're still so tight.” Rin said flatly as the tip of his erect cock pressed itself in between Yoichi’s ass cheeks. Even blindfolded, Yoichi felt how big it was. He trembled at the thought of that whole thing going in, and prayed maybe Rin would change his mind, drop this whole thing and focus on how to kill him instead. Yoichi wanted it to end, before it even began. He wanted it all to end.
But then Rin dived in. At least only the tip, because it was the only thing that fit so far. Yoichi screamed, fingers curling in the constraints of the ropes around his hands, the sound muffled rather quickly as Rin struck his ass with so much force it reverberated between the basement's walls. “Shut up.”
Yoichi gnawed at his bottom lip to silence himself. It was unsuccessful. Tears formed in his eyes, wetting the blindfold, clumping his lashes together.
Rin only paused for a short moment before he drove himself deeper. Tried to. There was no care or affection in his actions as he forced his cock in little by little into Yoichi’s trembling form, drinking up the muted, desperate cries that left those soft, pursed lips. Inaudible no's and stop's, contrasted by the way Yoichi’s body melted to the touch and wriggled for the friction of a rhythm.
“So tight.” Rin repeated. Matter-of-factly, unable to move his cock inside that tight, wet warmth. He moved his hips in a circular motion to loosen Yoichi up. Yoichi, from his side, instinctively rolled his hips in the air as well, until there was a certain freedom to–
A scream ripped itself out of the deepest part of Yoichi’s throat as Rin’s large, veiny cock slipped out and then slammed back inside all at once.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck.
He felt so unpleasantly and so unfairly winded.
Rin began to thrust, each movement a heavy, deliberate claim. Somehow, it wasn't fast, Yoichi was aware this wasn't the problem at hand. It was mercilessly thorough– Yoichi had never experienced such a feeling before. His small, trembling frame squeaked with every hard thrust like he had no roots or pillars to lean upon, like he was feather-light, like his body reduced itself to that (ironically) blinding realization repeating itself over and over.
“S-Slow down…!” Yoichi croaked out, and if his face wasn't already down he would've face-planted, shivering, not knowing what to do with that sensation. Rin relentlessly prodded at glands and over-sensitive nerves, and the tingling feeling, as weird as it was, was pleasant, heat coiling deep at his belly burning and growling.
Yoichi’s fingers curled. He wanted to grip into anything, anything at all, but he was unable to move, remaining subject to that merciless heat and those thrusts that felt like they attempted to reach his very core, if they haven't done that already.
Perfectly ignoring the plea, Rin picked up pace. Almost cruelly so. He was chasing his own release and not Yoichi’s, although Rin was aware, painfully aware he'd come at this sight alone of Yoichi folded under him, unable to move or object, useless little cock hanging between his legs. A moaning and whimpering mess. A beautiful, flawless mess.
“Eating you whole would be such a shame.” Rin’s brows knitted sharply. He grunted, getting closer and closer to a climax, cock throbbing in the midst of that plush warmth. “I'll have to– ugh– I'll have to eat you in portions, shitty Isagi.”
“S– mmngh…” Yoichi felt his lower body crumble far earlier than it should have. Even with his eyes covered, he was sure his body language conveyed the way they rolled to the back of his head in a warm wave of overwhelm. Nausea replaced the heat in his belly and it rolled and simmered throughout him as he came.
In some twisted sense of romance, he and Rin came in time with each other, the sounds of splashing and squelching resonating between their overheated bodies as thick and cloudy liquid filled him from the inside out.
Yoichi cried. Not out of the overwhelming fullness this time, or the overstimulation. He cried bitterly and brokenly, the wails of pure, soul-deep hurt.
He felt utterly violated, stripped of every respect a human deserved. He hadn't consented to this. He hadn't meant to enjoy it. Just the thought that he did, biologically, physically so, was deeply and irrevocably shameful.
Maybe it was an act of divine mercy that his mind began fogging all over. His senses – ever so sharp earlier due to the forced disorientation – dulled, his already dark vision turning into a muted grey, burnt at the edges like an old polaroid. Yoichi slowly felt himself surrender to that gentle darkness, and hoped Rin wouldn't exist there, at least.