#tw.broken bones

Matsukawa’s house was well on the outskirts, away from most people and surrounded by elderly neighbors. He didn’t mind it, always saying he likes the peace and quiet compared to how noisy the city life was and living at home. With him away from the city, it also meant Hanamaki had to get a ride to visit his best friend, while walking part of the way to make it there. It’s getting pretty late at night, so it makes sense that lots of people have their lights off. All except one, the one with lights on inside that was home to an insomniac named Matsukawa.

Well, that’s why Hanamaki was there. Matsukawa slept better when he was there, usually sleeping on a makeshift bed on the floor or even on the couch, sometimes in the bed beside him. Despite the feelings he harbored for the guy, Hanamaki was able to push those aside whenever he needed to, something he’d always been able to congratulate himself for.

Knocking on the door, he waits for an answer. Getting none, he checks the door, seeing it’s unlocked. Matsukawa knew he’d be on his way and kept it unlocked, so he didn’t find this strange. Plus, it’s not unusual for Matsukawa to take midnight showers when he can’t sleep, so there really was no worry or concern, even if Hanamaki thought it was irresponsible. He does lock the door, since he’s here now.

Inside, the house was practically dead. No running of water from the kitchen, no TV turned to some drama, nothing. It wasn’t until he actually listened did he hear some.. thudding coming from the bathroom. Deeper inside the house lies Matsukawa’s bedroom, of which has an attached bathroom. Creeping silently, worry seeping into his veins, Hanamaki comes into the room and sees the bathroom light on, a shadowy figure moving in the light. Moving closer, looking inside, Hanamaki can only look in confusion as he sees plastic covering almost every crevice, plastic wrapping that has some dark red liquid splattered across it.

Moving his eyes further in, he sees Matsukawa standing over a limp body, face bashed in. It’s all Hanamaki can do to not scream in fear, legs feeling weak as Matsukawa lays a bloodied sledgehammer on the covered floor. Beside it lies other tools, some simple working tools while others are found in household kitchens. He watches as Matsukawa snaps off some gloves, running a clean hand through his hair while he looks down at his handiwork.

Whether it’s the horror of seeing a dead body in his friend’s bathroom or the fear of his friend sinking in, Hanamaki can only slowly creep away from the bathroom, knocking into a plastic bottle left behind. “Shit,” he whispers, backing away further when Matsukawa leaves the bathroom. He’s covered in blood, eyes wide when he sees Hanamaki there. No words are exchanged before Hanamaki bolts, adrenaline in his veins while he practically stumbles through the house.

Locking the door was a mistake, he realizes, when he has to struggle with unlocked the small knob while Matsukawa starts moving in, with a clean pair of shoes. With it finally unlocked, Hanamaki runs out the door and slams it behind him, jumping off the porch to run towards the houses. It’s revealed to be a mistake when he sees Matsukawa leaving the house, a small hammer in his grip as he stalks towards Hanamaki. Running up to the nearest house, Hanamaki screams for help, banging on the side of the house. When nothing happens, he panics, looking to see Matsukawa getting closer. Deciding on a new course of action, he hides in the shadows when Matsukawa catches up to him. He’s tall and athletic, able to easily catch up. He slinks around the house, following the path he thinks Hanamaki takes, only to then watch as Hanamaki runs towards the woods nearby.

The woods are dense and most people, especially any children, are advised to stay away because it’s easy to get lost in. The warnings leave Hanamaki’s brain as he runs into them, forcing himself to not check to see how close Matsukawa is. It’s dark and hard to run in, but he manages to do so, feeling his heart thump in his throat as he jumps over a fallen log. That proves to backfire when his foot lands in a hole, sending him to the ground in pain. Gritting his teeth, he holds his ankle as he keeps his body hidden in the darkness, crouched so hopefully Matsukawa can’t see him.

It’s a long shot, but it’s doable, and Hanamaki thinks he’s succeeded when he hears running footsteps come closer and then fade. It feels like a relief that’s short lived when he moves his leg, a small scream as pain shoots through his leg. There’s no way he can make it back to the houses without limping, slowly him down. A heavy sigh escapes him as he feels a tear go down his cheek, mind reeling from the adrenaline high and what he had to witness. No use in sitting around, he manages to get up from his sitting position, only to then fall back down and crouch when footsteps approach.

“Hiro, where are you?” Matsukawa calls out. Hanamaki can see the hammer glinting in the moonlight, feeling bile rise in his throat as he thinks it’s his own murder tool. “Come on out, I know you’re here,” he continues to call, but his voice is low. “I know what you saw was scary, but I promise I won’t hurt you, I just need to explain myself,”

Explain? An explanation won’t fix anything and it won’t revive the dead. Hanamaki covers his mouth to keep from making too much noise, eyes screwed shut as he feels his hand dampen from his tears. Hearing nothing more, movement nor talking, he opens his eyes to glance around. Seeing nothing, he manages to weakly get up, using the log, but when he turns to look behind him, he sees Matsukawa standing there.

Fear shoots through him, trying to run, only to fail and he falls to the ground. Matsukawa is quit to straddle him, keeping him on the ground while he struggles. Pushing against Matsukawa, screaming, trying to knee him off, looking away from his friend, he does everything until he gets tired and the adrenaline wears off. “Takahiro, it’s me! Calm down,” he tries to shush him, covering his screams and pin his arms. When Hanamaki brings up his left hand, slapping Matsukawa across the face, is when he snaps. “Stop being so troublesome!”

Hanamaki stops screaming, briefly, watching as the hammer rises above Matsukawa’s head. Then he’s back to screaming, in pain when he feels his wrist crack, looking to see the hammer against the bone. “You’ll be fine, stop it!”

“Get off! Get off! I don’t want anything to do with you!”

“You don’t mean that! Let me explain!” He begs, forcing Hanamaki to look at him. “Please!” With nowhere to go, he doesn’t really have a choice. Matsukawa sees his struggling simmer down, but his tears increase. With him quiet, he begins to talk. “It was an old bully of yours, no one important. He,” Matsukawa heaves a sigh, shutting his eyes and his hangs low, “wasn’t the only one. I’ve done this to a few of them—”

“A few? A few? Issei, this isn’t you! This isn’t my best friend that I know and lo-” stopping, Hanamaki forces himself to think about the situation.

“It’s me, really. Just a darker side of me, Hiro! I only do this because I’m in love with you! Their lives were meaningless, their deaths were coming sooner or later,” he reasons, but Hanamaki just shakes his head. “Please, I did it for you, Hiro, don’t turn from me,”

“It isn’t- I don’t-!” Hanamaki struggles to say any words, blinking away tears that stain his cheeks. “I don’t want anything to do with you if this is what you do,”

“What?”

“I loved the kind and dorky guy I met in high school, not the murderer you’ve turned into, Issei. This isn’t like you, at least to me,” he gives Matsukawa a look of disgust when he says it. His tone, his words, they make something in Matsukawa snap. With his wrist broken and ankle sprained, he’s useless in trying to get Matsukawa off once more.

“This is me, it’s just a shock to you, is all, you’ll be fine,” he mumbles to Hanamaki, but also to himself. Hanamaki can only squirm and look on in horror as Matsukawa’s hands move down to his pants, fumbling with the zipper and button to discard them. “I wanted this to be special, you know? Our first time,”

“No-!” Hanamaki, now knowing what his plan is, panics and tries to move away. Matsukawa is quick to stop that, pulling off his pants and boxers once they’re undone. Putting pressure on his ankle, Matsukawa forces him to stop moving as his body locks up in pain, a scream of pain as he does.

“This won’t be a problem if you would hold still, you know,” Matsukawa practically sneers, pushing Hanamaki’s legs up and to the side, forcing him to turn. “You should be happy I’m not snapping your legs in two,”

“You’re a monster,” he spits, sending a glare that’s easily shed off. Matsukawa only grins, leaning closer that forces Hanamaki’s legs to bend even more.

“That’s not the whole truth, is it? You think I’m a monster, but you’re enjoying it,” he doesn’t need to clarify the last bit, rubbing his crotch against Hanamaki. It’s enough stimulation to have Hanamaki shutting his eyes as he shivers, holding back a moan. He doesn’t even wanna look down, but a bit more shifting lets him know his cock is hard and laying against his abdomen.

Matsukawa says nothing more as he strips himself down. It’s only when a dry finger enters Hanamaki does the silence break. “Wait, you’re just going to put it in?”

“You seem to enjoy the pain, so why not?” A dark chuckle then follows, before he talks again. “I’ll use some spit if that’ll make you feel better,”

“Spit?” He whispers, feeling some warm liquid on his ass before it’s pushed into his hole. It’s a gross feeling, two fingers curling and rubbing his walls while his cock twitches in want, while his mind is still reeling from the events. Matsukawa doesn’t let him stay in his thoughts for long, removing his fingers and pushing something bigger against his rim.

It’s really the only warning he gets, feeling Matsukawa spit some more saliva on his cock before pushing it into Hanamaki, who’s currently digging his undamaged hand into the ground, keeping his broken wrist close to his chest. Bearing through the pain, Hanamaki manages to force himself to think about something else, something less painful and horrible than feeling Matsukawa’s cock practically throbbing inside of him. The stretch burns, an ache he knows he’ll be feeling tomorrow, if there is one for him.

At this point he’d rather the hammer struck him dead.

Keeping his legs lifted up, Matsukawa manages to thrust into Hanamaki and earn himself a moan in response. “Despite the pain, you’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Matsukawa chuckles, grabbing Hanamaki’s damaged wrist from his chest. He’s not quick enough to move it away, only able to scream in pain when Matsukawa grips it tight and uses it to thrust up into him again.

Unable to touch Hanamaki’s cock without dropping his legs, Matsukawa decides to just grind his cock into him as Hanamaki struggles to process everything. His head hurts and so do his ankle and wrist, only furthered by Matsukawa’s iron grip. Tears continue to flow out of him, sobs wracking his body with each soft thrust Matsukawa gives him, cock rubbing in all the right places. It’s almost sickening, feeling him so deep inside and pleasuring in all the right ways, but not in the right circumstance.

Each drag of Matsukawa’s cock against his walls has Hanamaki seeing stars, cock desperate for attention as precum beads from the tip, sliding onto Hanamaki’s torso. Despite feeling gross, each grunt of force as Matsukawa fucks into him has him aching for release. Bringing his hand from the ground, he manages to wipe any excess dirt off his hand and wrap them around himself, squeezing the tip as he moans at the feeling. Matsukawa doesn’t say anything, just grinning as he puts more effort into fucking Hanamaki, gripping his wrist harder as Hanamaki’s hand tightens around his cock.

Slamming his hips into Hanamaki, his hips stutter before he lets out a moan, throwing his head back. Hanamaki can only squeeze his cock, biting on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, feeling Matsukawa’s cum fill him up to the brim. Thinking he’ll pull out, he gasps when he feels him start back up. The cum acts as a lubricant, making the thrusting easier as his cock glides into Hanamaki. Each pump and squeeze of his own hand on his cock brings him closer to an orgasm, but he needs an extra push.

Dropping Hanamaki’s wrist, Matsukawa uses both of his hands to adjust positions, pushing Hanamaki’s legs all the way up to his chest while his cock is stuck between his thighs. Without the proper stimulation, he whines as his hand finds the grass underneath him again, squirming. The slapping of Matsukawa’s hips against him also presses against his balls, plus the rubbing against his prostate from Matsukawa’s cock has him seeing stars. With an arch of his back and a strangled moan, his cock is twitching and shooting a thick load right into his face, coating it and his shirt. Only a few more thrusts until Matsukawa’s releasing again, a curse accompanying his moan as he does. When he’s spent, he pulls out to watch the cum ooze from Hanamaki’s hole.

A beat of silence passes before Hanamaki feels a baby wipe on his ass, cleaning up any mess. He laughs, making Matsukawa scoff. “Baby wipes? I kind of expected something else,”

“It was the better option, Hiro. Would you prefer a dry, scratchy washcloth against your sore, red ass?” That gets Hanamaki to shut up, making Matsukawa laugh in turn. “Thought so. Just let me clean you up,”

Once he’s finished doing exactly that, he also helps Hanamaki pull up his pants, keeping him away from the puddle of semen on the forest floor. With a sprained ankle, Hanamaki can’t walk, so he offers to hold the hammer while Matsukawa carries him. Even without the sprained ankle, he thinks the numbing of his legs would prevent it.

“So? Was it to your liking?” Matsukawa breaks the silence, walking out of the woods. The street is just as dead as it was when they left.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect you to actually go in me dry, though,” he mentions, resting his head against Matsukawa’s chest. “Guess we should add that to our checklist next time,”

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to find another time all our neighbors are gone. Well, almost all,” Matsukawa then nods his head in the direction of one house, the light from a bedroom still on. Hanamaki winces, hoping they didn’t hear everything. “A deaf woman lives in there, I’m sure we’re fine,”

“Hopefully. We can explain the situation for almost everything but don’t need any suspicions against what you do in the night,”

“Speaking of which, I still have to finish getting rid of that guy. Thankfully, I locked the door,” he then manages to set Hanamaki on the railing of their porch, taking out a set of keys. “And I brought the keys,”