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★Iniziativa: Questa storia partecipa al contest “Halloween Party – La Grande Zucca” a cura di Fanwriter.it!
★Numero Parole: 2235
★Prompt/Traccia: 19. Macchie
Titolo: Milk and blueberry jam
Fandom: Free!
Personaggi: Nagisa/Rei
Genere: dark, erotico, un po' horror
Avvertimenti: AU, adult fic, death, gore, shounen-ai, in inglese
Note: Ispirato da conversazioni in chat con la mia musa (che mi ha anche passato una ottima illustrazione di Takato Yamamoto che si abbina benissimo alla situazione che ho in mente), possiamo dire che si tratti anche di uno spin-off/prequel di Kirisaki Carnival, ma non è necessario aver letto il suddetto per leggere questa. Diciamo che avviene tutto nello stesso universo, ecco. <3 E so che halloween è passato da 2 giorni ma oh, adesso c'ho avuto cazzi di scrivere qualcosa. XD
Since his early childhood, Ryuugazaki Rei has always been a lonely boy.
In those autumn days when the cold would arrive, the night would come sooner and the breeze whispered with long and soft lamentations of the time scratching at the edges of an agonizing summer, he would always breathe them in with a relieved thrill. Finally, the kids in his neighborhood would stop chirping and trotting and existing all around him, too similar to each other and addicted to their own monotonous comfort to ever really see him. When they did, of course, their gazes would scratch at him with the most simple, childish derision, but a glare on his end would always suffice to keep them from bothering him, contrarily to what would happen to other kids who maybe were made to bear the blunt of all the torments the pests would direct not towards that lonely, creepy child, but to them instead.
It's not as if he had tried to be with them and befriend them, either. It's not as if he even wanted to play with them, touch them or be touched by them. Most of the time, he simply sat under a tree, oozing a shield against everyone else because, he had decided, nobody was worth the effort of talking to. The only indication of time flowing past him would be the leaves, resisting the cold and wind shakes until they would, at the very last, eventually give in and show their short-lived beauty while dancing in the air and then falling next to Rei's small shoes. His eyes, circled and evidenced by glasses, sometimes gave those leaves a neutral glance, before going back to whatever book he was reading.
He had began with books for children, of course, encouraged by his parents who were always so lovely and kind, always so sugary and pleasant, to the point where they only looked like disgusting, rotten apples dangling from a tree that should have let them fall already, long long ago.
But those reads were not for naught. At some point, death began being featured in them, sometimes as a background thought that was not meant to be given much attention, but the absense of details about them would always bother Rei's mind. What was that, why were books always hiding the truth about a simple ceasing of all of one's body functions? It was curious, and suspicious, and Rei's mind grew obsessed. And the moment he began investigating by picking more and more adult books - without letting his parents know, of course - his interest peaked, while he undressed those mysteries and grew curious about the way life would leave someone's eyes, about the time it would take for a body to grow cold, about the rigidity of rigor mortis as well as the most gruesome parts, such as the release of feces and the smell of decadence surrounding a decomposing body.
He never saw a real dead body in flesh and bones, right in front of him, until much later in life: after the boredom and disturbing shakes of adolescence had crept past him, after his contact with living bodies had grown just slightly and after he had grown just a little more accustomed to it, out of necessity more than of his own will.
He had always hated summer. Every year, the hotness of it, the need to reveal skin, and the fact that his parents would always encourage him to go outside where people were, all of it was unbearable. People talking and walking around him, people even looking at him sometimes, it was a constant prickling on his skin, constant goosebumps, an invasion of his space.
But on that summer evening, while the cicadas entertained their mates with a long, monotonous love song, Rei's heart thrummed uncontrollable in his chest, for the first time.
He had heard about butterflies in one's stomach for his entire adolescence in hushed and excited whispers among his peers, and he had found himself thinking over and over that it was a silly and nonsensical concept, one he had simply accepted as something that had nothing to do with him. Hearts stuttering, abundant flushes of blood, hands trembling and spikes in breaths and unusually fast heartbeats, that was all foreign to him. On the other hand, he had never developed any kind of interest for any of it. That would have meant that he was even just a little bit like them. Those common, boring little kids that would so predictably adhere to an instinctive call for socialization which would obviously exclude the different, the unknown, the kind of existence that would threaten their anonymous, mundane and ultimately useless lives only lived for the species' survival. Nothing more and nothing less.
But on that evening, he became somewhat curious about a pair of shadows he'd only seen moving with the corner of his eye down an alley darkening with the last agonizing sunrays. After only a couple of minutes, stalking the figures, finally he came to the entrance of a brothel, and immediately he'd grimaced at realizing where the two people had unwillingly led him to. Sex, and the idea of being naked with someone else, sex and sweat and gross moans, sex and the possibility of mistakingly putting life in his world where only stasis was an acceptable state of being, all of it repulsed him deeply, as it was yet another cog into the empty mechanism of a coded life everybody was expected to adhere to. His own way of life was much simpler and it allowed him to observe, but keep a distance from all things.
Despite all of that, he stepped into the brothel, finding himself assaulted by all kinds of prickling sensations, from the intense smell of incense to the deep, saturating colors around the wide, but not very tall room - all warm if not boiling hot colors, reds and browns and oranges, but all of them dull. Painted on the walls were painted cheesy, obscene scenes of intercourse, with genitalia exposed to everyone's eye, yet nobody seemed to mind. Surely, whoever was moaning behind sliding wooden frames hardly ever spared a look for the drawings of women in yukata with plump lips, spread legs and most notably, detailed cunts with thick hair, being explored by tongues belonging to robust men, or being speared almost violently by gigantic cocks. It was quite vulgar, and not at all beautiful, but after all Rei was not here to offer artistic criticism.
And while he observed the rough drawings that depicted absolutely alien scenes splattering visceral fantasies all over the place, a question pricked at him. Why had he followed those figures here? Hadn't it been instinctive, after all? There was no reason for him to stalk strangers to a brothel, and yet there he was, pulled by his stomach that was now humming with tension and anticipating something. This would happen sometimes, when he watched spiders sew traps with admirable patience, and both the predator and Rei's long time waiting would be rewarded, at the end. With small insects being caught up in the web, fussing in terror while the spider would, slowly, begin to wrap them up or eat them right away. What always spiked Rei's interest, though, was not the act of killing. It was, more exactly, being a spectator to the act of killing. Watching something die and being perfectly aware that he had the power to stop it, yet never doing it, it was a subtle yet intoxicating kind of pleasure that made his heart thrum dark, unpleasant, but at least it was something he found a sort of pleasure in. And it slowly became addictive.
He realized he had been distracted by his own thoughts in the moment he caught a glimpse of something looking at him from a slit that teased into someone's sexual activities, but then the eye disappeared, letting the door draw a thin line of faint light on the wooden floor of the common space.
Rei was obviously aware that he was being teased, that inside could be any sort of depraved creature, but the turmoil in his belly set ablaze with a curiosity that reminded him of those times when he would witness to the death of those unaware insects. So he stepped forward, glanced around to the people who did not seem to mind for him one bit, and after a few seconds of heart thrumming louder, pushing him to do it, look inside, he finally approached the frail panel, looking inside.
Inside was a boy, but Rei's attention was immediately drawn towards the man lying on the tatami, with his fat belly sliced by a long, sharp knife, the wound letting out generous amounts of blood that pooled on the mat which drank it immediately and became thick with dark red.
His eyes darted back to the young, blond boy sitting on top of the dead body, with his thin waist still rolling on the still hard cock that he'd been thrusting himself down on. And he did not stop, even when he became aware that his act was being observed. On the contrary, his hips began moving in a more sinuous, harmonious wave, and he stilled his body only at the height of his orgasm that flashed across his body making it still for a moment, but the pleasure was evident on his features: his plump lips were open in heavy breaths against the summer heat that still lingered in that little brothel; his eyes drooped as they lost focus for a moment, and his cheeks were a lovely pink, like that of a mature peach.
Rei stood still, looking on, and for the first time his mind became completely empty, too busy etching every detail of that whole moment in his memory, that scene painted with sins, and that boy who looked like a small god revel in a glow and contractions of pleasure, with blood splattered on his lap, mixed up with his own semen. He looked so soft and young, yet he was there riding a dead body into an explosive orgasm... and he was now looking on, with a cold, calm gaze that seemed both a threat and an invitation, but more of the latter.
With his eyes and lips open in shock and complete awe, Rei stared at the stranger without uttering a word, however the awkward, yet intense silence was finally broken by the little murderer.
"I like luring and killing people," he explained in a simple chirp, with a jolly and careless voice, while using a soft towel next to him to clean himself off the gore and cum on his otherwise perfectly clean skin.
"I like watching that," Rei murmured, while his heart thumped and drummed in his ears, sensing danger and yet not convincingly enough to make Rei flee. Especially because he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
"I know!" The boy trilled, and smiled friendly, enthusiastic, now looking exactly like a happy child at a town's fair. The change in his expression was shocking. It left Rei confused among all the other things he was puzzled and threatened about. But that boy sparkled with a kind of joy that looked so genuine and sincere...
It finally happened.
Rei's heart, in the midst of pumping with adrenaline, hiccuped, then pumped faster and harder in his chest, hard enough that for a moment it seemed like he was going to die on the spot. Yet, that did not happen.
"I know, I watched you watch the insects die. I guess you like it, so I think we could be partners!" The blond boy added. Rei could not brush that off. The light and happiness in those boy's pink eyes was something Rei had never seen or experienced, ever before.
Recognition.
Rei found himself sighing, with a knot tightening at the base of his throat and warm tears now rolling down his cheeks, behind his glasses.
"I'm Nagisa," the other said, then, bowing his head a little but never losing sight of his visitor, and flashed a wide, shiny grin before pouncing the other as if he was a puppy. That was new too. Contact. Someone hugging him. Someone reaching out for him, while coming from a place of mutual understanding.
Rei had never hugged anyone back, had never sensed his heart stutter and buzz with life before, but now he wrapped his arms around the small, lithe, beautiful boy that had revealed himself to him like a miracle, and he held him close with his fingers diving through the mane of blond curls at his chest before replying, "my name is Rei."
"Rei-chan, I'm happy I met you but I think we should leave. Before, you know," Nagisa said immediately, pointing down at the corpse with an expression of perpetual terror and pleasure. Rei looked down at it, and then dove into Nagisa's eyes with a brief nod. At this point, there was no reason to escape. He'd witnessed a murder and he'd liked it, and that was the only moment he had ever spent with someone without wanting to leave.
He looked into the small spider's eyes with his own purple, dark orbs, and finally he opened up with a gentle, soft smile while sliding his fingers to join Nagisa's bloody ones.
★Numero Parole: 2235
★Prompt/Traccia: 19. Macchie
Titolo: Milk and blueberry jam
Fandom: Free!
Personaggi: Nagisa/Rei
Genere: dark, erotico, un po' horror
Avvertimenti: AU, adult fic, death, gore, shounen-ai, in inglese
Note: Ispirato da conversazioni in chat con la mia musa (che mi ha anche passato una ottima illustrazione di Takato Yamamoto che si abbina benissimo alla situazione che ho in mente), possiamo dire che si tratti anche di uno spin-off/prequel di Kirisaki Carnival, ma non è necessario aver letto il suddetto per leggere questa. Diciamo che avviene tutto nello stesso universo, ecco. <3 E so che halloween è passato da 2 giorni ma oh, adesso c'ho avuto cazzi di scrivere qualcosa. XD
Since his early childhood, Ryuugazaki Rei has always been a lonely boy.
In those autumn days when the cold would arrive, the night would come sooner and the breeze whispered with long and soft lamentations of the time scratching at the edges of an agonizing summer, he would always breathe them in with a relieved thrill. Finally, the kids in his neighborhood would stop chirping and trotting and existing all around him, too similar to each other and addicted to their own monotonous comfort to ever really see him. When they did, of course, their gazes would scratch at him with the most simple, childish derision, but a glare on his end would always suffice to keep them from bothering him, contrarily to what would happen to other kids who maybe were made to bear the blunt of all the torments the pests would direct not towards that lonely, creepy child, but to them instead.
It's not as if he had tried to be with them and befriend them, either. It's not as if he even wanted to play with them, touch them or be touched by them. Most of the time, he simply sat under a tree, oozing a shield against everyone else because, he had decided, nobody was worth the effort of talking to. The only indication of time flowing past him would be the leaves, resisting the cold and wind shakes until they would, at the very last, eventually give in and show their short-lived beauty while dancing in the air and then falling next to Rei's small shoes. His eyes, circled and evidenced by glasses, sometimes gave those leaves a neutral glance, before going back to whatever book he was reading.
He had began with books for children, of course, encouraged by his parents who were always so lovely and kind, always so sugary and pleasant, to the point where they only looked like disgusting, rotten apples dangling from a tree that should have let them fall already, long long ago.
But those reads were not for naught. At some point, death began being featured in them, sometimes as a background thought that was not meant to be given much attention, but the absense of details about them would always bother Rei's mind. What was that, why were books always hiding the truth about a simple ceasing of all of one's body functions? It was curious, and suspicious, and Rei's mind grew obsessed. And the moment he began investigating by picking more and more adult books - without letting his parents know, of course - his interest peaked, while he undressed those mysteries and grew curious about the way life would leave someone's eyes, about the time it would take for a body to grow cold, about the rigidity of rigor mortis as well as the most gruesome parts, such as the release of feces and the smell of decadence surrounding a decomposing body.
He never saw a real dead body in flesh and bones, right in front of him, until much later in life: after the boredom and disturbing shakes of adolescence had crept past him, after his contact with living bodies had grown just slightly and after he had grown just a little more accustomed to it, out of necessity more than of his own will.
He had always hated summer. Every year, the hotness of it, the need to reveal skin, and the fact that his parents would always encourage him to go outside where people were, all of it was unbearable. People talking and walking around him, people even looking at him sometimes, it was a constant prickling on his skin, constant goosebumps, an invasion of his space.
But on that summer evening, while the cicadas entertained their mates with a long, monotonous love song, Rei's heart thrummed uncontrollable in his chest, for the first time.
He had heard about butterflies in one's stomach for his entire adolescence in hushed and excited whispers among his peers, and he had found himself thinking over and over that it was a silly and nonsensical concept, one he had simply accepted as something that had nothing to do with him. Hearts stuttering, abundant flushes of blood, hands trembling and spikes in breaths and unusually fast heartbeats, that was all foreign to him. On the other hand, he had never developed any kind of interest for any of it. That would have meant that he was even just a little bit like them. Those common, boring little kids that would so predictably adhere to an instinctive call for socialization which would obviously exclude the different, the unknown, the kind of existence that would threaten their anonymous, mundane and ultimately useless lives only lived for the species' survival. Nothing more and nothing less.
But on that evening, he became somewhat curious about a pair of shadows he'd only seen moving with the corner of his eye down an alley darkening with the last agonizing sunrays. After only a couple of minutes, stalking the figures, finally he came to the entrance of a brothel, and immediately he'd grimaced at realizing where the two people had unwillingly led him to. Sex, and the idea of being naked with someone else, sex and sweat and gross moans, sex and the possibility of mistakingly putting life in his world where only stasis was an acceptable state of being, all of it repulsed him deeply, as it was yet another cog into the empty mechanism of a coded life everybody was expected to adhere to. His own way of life was much simpler and it allowed him to observe, but keep a distance from all things.
Despite all of that, he stepped into the brothel, finding himself assaulted by all kinds of prickling sensations, from the intense smell of incense to the deep, saturating colors around the wide, but not very tall room - all warm if not boiling hot colors, reds and browns and oranges, but all of them dull. Painted on the walls were painted cheesy, obscene scenes of intercourse, with genitalia exposed to everyone's eye, yet nobody seemed to mind. Surely, whoever was moaning behind sliding wooden frames hardly ever spared a look for the drawings of women in yukata with plump lips, spread legs and most notably, detailed cunts with thick hair, being explored by tongues belonging to robust men, or being speared almost violently by gigantic cocks. It was quite vulgar, and not at all beautiful, but after all Rei was not here to offer artistic criticism.
And while he observed the rough drawings that depicted absolutely alien scenes splattering visceral fantasies all over the place, a question pricked at him. Why had he followed those figures here? Hadn't it been instinctive, after all? There was no reason for him to stalk strangers to a brothel, and yet there he was, pulled by his stomach that was now humming with tension and anticipating something. This would happen sometimes, when he watched spiders sew traps with admirable patience, and both the predator and Rei's long time waiting would be rewarded, at the end. With small insects being caught up in the web, fussing in terror while the spider would, slowly, begin to wrap them up or eat them right away. What always spiked Rei's interest, though, was not the act of killing. It was, more exactly, being a spectator to the act of killing. Watching something die and being perfectly aware that he had the power to stop it, yet never doing it, it was a subtle yet intoxicating kind of pleasure that made his heart thrum dark, unpleasant, but at least it was something he found a sort of pleasure in. And it slowly became addictive.
He realized he had been distracted by his own thoughts in the moment he caught a glimpse of something looking at him from a slit that teased into someone's sexual activities, but then the eye disappeared, letting the door draw a thin line of faint light on the wooden floor of the common space.
Rei was obviously aware that he was being teased, that inside could be any sort of depraved creature, but the turmoil in his belly set ablaze with a curiosity that reminded him of those times when he would witness to the death of those unaware insects. So he stepped forward, glanced around to the people who did not seem to mind for him one bit, and after a few seconds of heart thrumming louder, pushing him to do it, look inside, he finally approached the frail panel, looking inside.
Inside was a boy, but Rei's attention was immediately drawn towards the man lying on the tatami, with his fat belly sliced by a long, sharp knife, the wound letting out generous amounts of blood that pooled on the mat which drank it immediately and became thick with dark red.
His eyes darted back to the young, blond boy sitting on top of the dead body, with his thin waist still rolling on the still hard cock that he'd been thrusting himself down on. And he did not stop, even when he became aware that his act was being observed. On the contrary, his hips began moving in a more sinuous, harmonious wave, and he stilled his body only at the height of his orgasm that flashed across his body making it still for a moment, but the pleasure was evident on his features: his plump lips were open in heavy breaths against the summer heat that still lingered in that little brothel; his eyes drooped as they lost focus for a moment, and his cheeks were a lovely pink, like that of a mature peach.
Rei stood still, looking on, and for the first time his mind became completely empty, too busy etching every detail of that whole moment in his memory, that scene painted with sins, and that boy who looked like a small god revel in a glow and contractions of pleasure, with blood splattered on his lap, mixed up with his own semen. He looked so soft and young, yet he was there riding a dead body into an explosive orgasm... and he was now looking on, with a cold, calm gaze that seemed both a threat and an invitation, but more of the latter.
With his eyes and lips open in shock and complete awe, Rei stared at the stranger without uttering a word, however the awkward, yet intense silence was finally broken by the little murderer.
"I like luring and killing people," he explained in a simple chirp, with a jolly and careless voice, while using a soft towel next to him to clean himself off the gore and cum on his otherwise perfectly clean skin.
"I like watching that," Rei murmured, while his heart thumped and drummed in his ears, sensing danger and yet not convincingly enough to make Rei flee. Especially because he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
"I know!" The boy trilled, and smiled friendly, enthusiastic, now looking exactly like a happy child at a town's fair. The change in his expression was shocking. It left Rei confused among all the other things he was puzzled and threatened about. But that boy sparkled with a kind of joy that looked so genuine and sincere...
It finally happened.
Rei's heart, in the midst of pumping with adrenaline, hiccuped, then pumped faster and harder in his chest, hard enough that for a moment it seemed like he was going to die on the spot. Yet, that did not happen.
"I know, I watched you watch the insects die. I guess you like it, so I think we could be partners!" The blond boy added. Rei could not brush that off. The light and happiness in those boy's pink eyes was something Rei had never seen or experienced, ever before.
Recognition.
Rei found himself sighing, with a knot tightening at the base of his throat and warm tears now rolling down his cheeks, behind his glasses.
"I'm Nagisa," the other said, then, bowing his head a little but never losing sight of his visitor, and flashed a wide, shiny grin before pouncing the other as if he was a puppy. That was new too. Contact. Someone hugging him. Someone reaching out for him, while coming from a place of mutual understanding.
Rei had never hugged anyone back, had never sensed his heart stutter and buzz with life before, but now he wrapped his arms around the small, lithe, beautiful boy that had revealed himself to him like a miracle, and he held him close with his fingers diving through the mane of blond curls at his chest before replying, "my name is Rei."
"Rei-chan, I'm happy I met you but I think we should leave. Before, you know," Nagisa said immediately, pointing down at the corpse with an expression of perpetual terror and pleasure. Rei looked down at it, and then dove into Nagisa's eyes with a brief nod. At this point, there was no reason to escape. He'd witnessed a murder and he'd liked it, and that was the only moment he had ever spent with someone without wanting to leave.
He looked into the small spider's eyes with his own purple, dark orbs, and finally he opened up with a gentle, soft smile while sliding his fingers to join Nagisa's bloody ones.
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