Almost In Love v. scribbld - Caught in the Spider’s Web
February 12th, 2008
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Caught in the Spider’s Web
Posting an older fic since I'm picking the claim (that I left stagnant ^^;) again:

Title: Caught in the Spider’s Web
Author: Eumenides
Fandom: Descendents of Darkness
Characters: Muraki & Hisoka
Prompt: 6 - Restraints
Word Count: 2,452
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. Only the depravity does.
Author’s Notes: For [info]50kinkyways. A bargain is struck, and Muraki has his way.



Grey skies opened up, pouring their contents onto the ground below. As pedestrians hurried to seek shelter from the rain shower, a young man stood under the awning of a shop. Hisoka pulled the jacket that he wore tighter around himself, but it was poor protection from the chilling wind.

A car passed in front of the young man, splashing the sidewalk and making him dodge the resulting jet of dirtied water. A blur of white crossing the street caused Hisoka’s attention to turn toward the approaching figure of a tall, pale man. Dressed impeccably as always, Dr. Muraki approached the rain-soaked guardian of death on the sidewalk, shielding the young man with his umbrella as he drew close enough.

“Don’t you look a mess, Hisoka,” the doctor remarked with a smirk. “You could catch your death of cold. If you were still alive, that is.”

“You already saw to that, Muraki,” Hisoka shot back angrily.

“I’m sure that you didn’t ask me here to reminisce about our shared past,” Muraki stated blandly. “I’m rather interested in hearing what it is that you have to say. You mentioned ‘a deal,’ I believe?”

Looking up into cold silver eyes, Hisoka found his earlier confidence failing him. He’d already endured horrid things at the hand of this man, if the doctor could still be called that. But couldn’t he endure them again, if it was for his friend’s sake? “I want you to leave Tsuzuki alone.”

The doctor raised a thin eyebrow. “You do, do you? And what is it that you think will induce me to give up my claim on Mr. Tsuzuki?”

Hisoka took a deep breath. “I offer myself in his place.”

Hisoka’s mildly fearful expression turned to one of anger as he watched the surgeon laugh heartily. “Have you forgotten?” the man asked after his mirth subsided, “I’ve already had my fun with you, boy. No, Mr. Tsuzuki is far more deserving of… my special attention now.”

The guardian of death feared that the man would refuse. He thought of the broken look in Tsizuki’s eyes, the weight of Muraki’s taunts of his culpability in the deaths of innocents, innocents that the doctor had killed, suffocating him. Hisoka had to get the doctor to agree. “You’re destroying him with your games! Is that really what you want?”

“Perhaps,” Muraki replied. The doctor canted his head, scrutinizing the young man before him. He noticed how Hisoka shifted nervously under his gaze. There might be fun to be had here.

“If I do leave your precious Tsuzuki alone, you’ll do whatever I ask? Is that what you’re offering?”

Hisoka strengthened his resolve, dark memories screaming at him from the depths of his mind. He could do this. For Tsuzuki’s sake. “Yes.”

Narrowing his silver eyes, Muraki grinned widely at the young man. “Well then, let’s be off, shall we?”

===========================


Hisoka watched as the doctor hung his white overcoat on the coat rack near the door. Ushering him into the spacious living room, Muraki bid the young man to sit on the couch.

“I’d rather stand,” the guardian of death remarked.

“Suit yourself,” Muraki replied as he took a seat on the pale leather sofa. He crossed his legs, considering the way that the young man shifted his body’s weight anxiously from foot to foot. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No. You’d probably poison it, anyway.”

Muraki sighed deeply, as if put upon. “I’m just trying to be a gracious host, Hisoka. Is there really anything that I can do to hurt you now, being the thing that you are?” The doctor’s innocent expression was belied by the sinister glint in his eye.

“Let’s just get on with this,” Hisoka demanded. He wasn’t in a hurry to proceed, but it would be better than feigned niceties from the man who’d been responsible for his demise.

“Suit yourself,” Muraki replied, rising from the couch. It annoyed Hisoka how the man’s every movement appeared graceful somehow. “Follow me.”

Up the winding staircase and down a hallway, and the pair were in the master bedroom of the doctor’s sizable home. Hisoka tried to keep his distance from the other man, but at some point, the doctor managed to slip behind him to place both hands onto his shoulders. Hisoka startled at the touch. The man was close enough that the guardian of death could feel warm breath against his neck.

“Allow me,” Muraki said as he drew Hisoka’s lightweight jacket off of his shoulders. The young man was unnerved by how the doctor seemed to caress his arms as the item of clothing was removed, the warmth of his touch transmitted even through the sleeves of the shirt beneath. The doctor folded the item neatly, placing it on a nearby table.

Hisoka watched as Muraki took off his suit jacket to hang it in the ample closet. “You know, Hisoka,” the man began as he placed the coat on the rod, “I was surprised that you suggested an arrangement such as this, given our history together.” The man turned to look pointedly at his reluctant companion. “Is that to say that you didn’t mind our previous time together as much as you previously let on, or is it that you care for Mr. Tsuzuki so much that you’d overlook it?”

Hisoka’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “How dare you! I’m just doing this for Tsuzuki’s sake! How dare you suggest that I’d ever want… I don’t even want to be in the same room with you!”

The response from Muraki that he expected was annoyance or anger. Instead, Hisoka was greeted with a wry smile that he wanted to wipe from the doctor’s face. “So that’s why your heart is beating so fast and your breathing is so deep? It’s your hatred of me? But are you sure?” The surgeon stalked toward him, the smile turning into a wide and seemingly knowing grin. “Or is it just easier for you this way? Easier for you to believe that this bargain is about you helping your pathetically weak-minded friend, and not about satisfying your own desires?”

“Bastard!” Hisoka shouted at the man, attempting to strike at him. His target caught the fist before it could connect, wrenching his arm painfully behind his back, and performing a similar act on its twin. Hisoka struggled, but the doctor’s grip was strong.

“Ah, so much spirit, even now,” Muraki remarked, his smile widening as the young man struggled further to no avail. “You were like this back then. All that young supple flesh straining beneath me. But still, you yielded. And you’ll yield to me now.”

Hisoka groaned, the spell emblazoned onto his back burning painfully. He thought that his knees would give way, but the doctor’s strong arms kept him upright. The young man found himself forced backward against a wall. He grunted as the sensitive skin of his back impacted the surface with a thud.

“Just admit it to yourself, Hisoka,” Muraki purred into the young man’s ear as he tried to turn away. “It’s not as though I of all people would blame you. Cease this farce of resistance. You and I both know what it is that you really want.”

Hisoka turned his head to glare up at the taller man, still trying to twist out of his grip. “Don’t flatter yourself!” he spat. “Remembering the things that happened, the things that you did, makes me nauseous!”

Muraki leered at the young man to his unease. He shifted closer to press his loins into those of his reluctant partner. “So this,” he said, indicating the beginnings of an erection in the young man’s jeans by rubbing himself against it, “has nothing at all to do with me? Your body is so eager for what you deny with your lips.”

The doctor squeezed the young man’s wrists, making him groan, a groan not entirely from discomfort. Muraki smiled knowingly. “Or do you enjoy it, me binding you like this?”

“No!”

Muraki chuckled. “I think that you are protesting a bit too much, Hisoka. Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you want.” He wrenched Hisoka’s hands up above his head, pressing them to the wall. Hisoka saw the man’s look of concentration and heard the words of a murmured spell, and suddenly felt something surround his wrists as Muraki let go. No matter how he struggled, the magical bonds wouldn’t loosen. Hisoka found himself pulled higher with a wave of Muraki’s hand so that he hung from his wrists, his toes barely touching the ground.

“Ooo,” Muraki cooed, pleased by the way Hisoka struggled in vain against the bonds, shifting against the wall. “I have half a mind to leave you there like this for a time.”

“Bastard! Don’t you dare! I didn’t sign on to be abused like this by you!”

“Really?” Muraki replied, smirking as he approached the young man. “Did you think that you’d come here, bargaining with your body, and this deal would be on your terms? Oh no, my boy, this is entirely my show.”

The doctor began to unfasten the buttons to Hisoka’s shirt as he continued to struggle. He leaned forward to lap at soft exposed skin. “You should be glad of how the situation turned out for you in the end,” Muraki said as he stroked the skin of Hisoka’s chest. “Many people would kill for what you have.” He stroked the sweaty skin of the guardian’s quivering belly. “A body eternally young, with such pliant flesh.” The doctor bent to run his tongue over it, tasting.

Hisoka wriggled in his restraints. The binding around his wrists began to tighten painfully as he cried out. “Don’t struggle too much, dear Hisoka,” the doctor warned. “They’ll get much tighter if you do. It would be a shame to loose those soft little hands of yours.”

The young man stilled, and the bindings loosened a fraction. His arms were sore from supporting his body weight. What was more disturbing was the unwanted erection straining to free itself from his jeans. Muraki bent to nibble on the bulge in his pants, making him groan.

“That’s it,” the doctor said. “Give in to the sensations that I’m granting you.”

Hisoka was reminded of the worst part of what Muraki did to him years ago. He’d pulled the reluctant orgasm from his abused body, leaving him shamed before his prolonged death. Now he was doing it again, playing his body like an instrument. Hisoka’s back arched as his erection was freed from his pants and stroked, his toes curling as his sacs were massaged by the surgeon’s free hand.

“Don’t,” the guardian of death tried to plead, “don’t make me like this!”

Muraki leered at him, enjoying the look of helpless passion on his features. “I like the way you look, Hisoka. I’ll have you screaming before I’m through.”

The doctor pulled the young man’s jeans roughly down lean thighs, pulling the garment off to lay on the floor, his prior neatness forgotten in his growing arousal. Hisoka’s briefs went the way of his pants, leaving him exposed before the man with his erection protruding stiffly. Muraki noted that a pearly droplet of fluid had collected on the tip of it. He leaned down to lap it off as Hisoka shivered.

“Mmm. I’d forgotten how good you tasted, Hisoka,” the doctor remarked. “So eager for my attention.” He opened the drawer to the adjacent nightstand to retrieve a tube of lubricant. “No reason why we both can’t enjoy ourselves,” he said, spreading the smooth substance onto his fingers.

Hisoka grimaced as two fingers were inserted inside of him, and not gently. Muraki fisted his erection with his other hand, watching how his body jerked from the stimulation. Hisoka cried out at the third finger inserted before he’d stretched enough. Muraki was in a hurry, his own erection tenting his dress slacks. The young man’s relief at having the man’s long fingers leave his body was eclipsed by the terror of watching the doctor stroke lubricant quickly onto his own leaking erection.

Moving between his legs, Muraki lifted the young man’s thighs as he hung from his wrists, exposing the lubricated entrance to his body. Hisoka’s breath was knocked from him as Muraki shoved forward, impaling him in one long thrust. The man held still, a look of ecstasy on his face as Hisoka’s flesh quivered around him.

Muraki sighed. “I’d forgotten how tight you were, Hisoka.” He lapped at a rivulet of perspiration running down the young man’s cheek. “Everything about you is delicious. Your skin,” he told him as he licked the flesh again. “Your scent,” Muraki said as he leaned in to nuzzle the space between neck and shoulder. “And your tight little hole,” the doctor said, punctuating the remark with a sharp thrust.

As the doctor began to thrust rhythmically, Hisoka tried to pretend that he was somewhere else. That it wasn’t his neck that Muraki was nibbling. That it wasn’t his rear that the man was pounding into. That the waves of pleasure washing over him weren’t being experienced by his body. Had he wanted this secretly? Hisoka wasn’t even sure of the answer, his body moving up and down the wall by the force of the man’s thrusts. Muraki began to stroke a place within Hisoka that sent jolts of pleasure shooting through him. The worst of it was that the guardian of death wasn’t even sure if he wanted it to stop.

Muraki grunted as he continued to push into the young body before him, enjoying how tight flesh squeezed him so intimately. He smirked at Hisoka’s soft cries, cries that had nothing to do with pain. Oh yes, his body was just as sweet as it had been years ago.

Pulling against his restraints, Hisoka shouted as orgasm crashed upon him. He poured his seed over his own belly as well as the doctor’s as his cock was rubbed between them. Muraki thrust raggedly into the young body several more times before emptying into the tight orifice. The doctor sighed against the sweaty soft skin of Hisoka’s neck before pulling out, a trickle of his seed making its way down the young man’s thigh.

Disheveled, Hisoka hung from the wall, unable to meet Muraki’s eyes, his face burning in shame. A hand on his chin tilted it up so that he was looking into the surgeon’s cold but laughing eyes.

“Our deal has yet to be completed, Hisoka,” Muraki told him. “I’ll only stay away from your darling Tsuzuki for as long as you keep me satisfied.”

Cursing himself inwardly, Hisoka nodded.

End

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