#doublecapeduelist

Yuuri’s lips are--

They make Shun’s skin crawl, body trembling, and he can’t get away.  That’s the worst thing about it all--he can’t get away.  Bound and captured and free for whatever Yuuri feels like doing.

Yuuri, who finds some sick pleasure in pressing kisses to Shun’s split lip, to the black eye he has, and the sickening score of some symbol Yuuri had carved into his cheek.  

(It had hurt, god, did it hurt, and now Shun’s branded)

Shun thinks that Yuuri perhaps gets off on the taste of blood, of seeing his captives in pain.

“What a pity. Truly. I would have liked to collar you, myself, my pretty little nightingale.”

Shun instinctively backs away, hands coming up to tug his red bandanna over the collar he had on.

“No, not a pity, I think you would have been quite disappointed if you did that.”

Absolute revulsion.

Shun finds himself hacking, pushing Yuuri away and his eyes wide.  His stomach is rolling, his body shaking.  He feels sick, because this bastard kissed him.

This bastard fucking kissed him.

Shun grimaces, hand coming up to wipe at his mouth.

Shun is cold.

He’s freezing, body shaking and wrists still tied up by that infernal silk because Yuuri is one sick bastard with illusions of kindness.  But like hell Shun’s going to give in--but that coat is important.

“Depends on if you really want me to beg or not,” Shun gets out.  “Knowing a sick fuck like you, asking me to beg nicely is just polite talk for having me kiss your ass.”  

There’s a feeling of blackness in his stomach, rolls and turns and doesn’t recede even after his doppelganger stops talking. It’s like a swatch of black silk around his mouth, in his throat, threatens to sit and clog his system for all eternity and Yuuya doesn’t have the heart to throw it up.

He just shivers, tries to rub his arms and smile it away--though awkward, and hesitant, but there, and very much real.