Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/7232236. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: M/M Fandom: 僕だけがいない街_|_ERASED Relationship: Fujinuma_Satoru/Yashiro_Gaku Character: Fujinuma_Satoru, Yashiro_Gaku Additional Tags: Oral_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Satoru_is_still_in_a_coma, Yandere_thinking, Mentions_of_underage_non-con Stats: Published: 2016-06-18 Words: 2304 ****** Giving Way ****** by kimagurekoi Summary If only Satoru was awake when Yashiro had his fun... Notes It's really weird writing stuff of this nature when half of the party is practically dead........ There's a very brief description of murder/blood at the beginning so try to skip over that if you're squeamish...! Sorry ;; See the end of the work for more notes Yashiro loved visiting Spice. Those hours spent in that hospital room, curtains drawn, machines beeping steadily, watching the boy’s chest rising and falling provided Yashiro a beautiful reprieve from the outside world. In the room, it was him and Satoru. It was him and his Spice to take care of. Every time the man slid the shaving razor over Satoru’s face filled him with a burning giddiness; it bubbled in his gut in a perverse way as he watched the blade glide over Satoru’s jawline, his chin, just barely brushing his lips at times. Yashiro knew he could kill Satoru any time he wished. The idea thrilled him. He considered doing it too; sliding that blade across the boy’s jugular, his hand firm and pressure deep. His mind would buzz as he imagined the feeling of the flesh giving way before the blade, the sensation of slicing through the skin and feeling the veins breaking open as the red flowed onto the sterile hospital bedding. With enough planning, Yashiro could get away with it so easily. But he didn’t. Yashiro knew deep down that he needed the boy. Even when Satoru grew into a man, Yashiro knew he could never lose him. He needed Satoru; Satoru was his to keep, to watch, to kill if need be, to love. Satoru was special. After years of visiting his comatose student, Yashiro’s desire to kill turned into a desire to possess and own the boy. The rush he got from the blade became less fulfilling than the rush he got from imagining Satoru squirming, fighting back against Yashiro’s advances. His hand would wander into Satoru’s pants, the other holding his hands above his head. Satoru would scream, kick, to try to escape and deny Yashiro what was his . There would be nobody to whisk him away though. It would be them, just them, as Yashiro took his mind and body. Satoru was his, and his only. But Yashiro knew that wasn’t possible. Satoru was practically dead to the world. There would be no defiance in his eyes, no gritting of his teeth as he tried to hold back wanton moans, there would be no guaranteed privacy-- not for long, at least. For what little time he had, Yashiro made do. He couldn’t help it. To see Satoru so defenseless riled him up; even without the fight, he wanted to manipulate and mold that comatose body to only accept Yashiro’s. He wanted Satoru’s body to react to only his fingers, to only feel satisfied when Yashiro filled him. Yashiro couldn’t leave the him alone. March 2nd; Satoru was 18. It was the last hour for visitors to come. Sachiko and all of Satoru’s friends had already visited him. Yashiro stood over the comatose body, a small smile painting his lips. Nobody would come for the next hour. He and Satoru had time to be together . Long fingers ghosted over Satoru’s face feeling the clean shaven skin. A predatory glint sparked deep within Yashiro’s eyes as he rubbed his thumb against Satoru’s lips. Soft, so soft; Satoru’s skin was soft and smooth thanks to Sachiko’s constant care. His hand moved to cup Satoru’s cheek as he leaned down. His lips met Satoru’s and without hesitating, he pushed his tongue into the unresponsive mouth. It tasted of medicine and the stillness made the kiss feel void of any life at all. He swept his tongue over Satoru’s teeth, feeling the ridges before gripping the boy’s jaw to part them. Yashiro’s tongue mingled with the unresponsive one briefly before retreating. Kissing wasn’t really that fulfilling when the other person was practically dead. There were other things for that mouth to be doing. Yashiro quirked an eyebrow at the idea. He would have time to do something like that, definitely. He glanced back at the door before placing both hands on Satoru’s neck, squeezing firmly but not tightly. He stopped after a few seconds; there was no response from the boy but Yashiro just liked the feeling of choking him and the fantasies that went with it. The image of his hands on Satoru’s throat, the boy clawing at him to let go as Yashiro fucked him sent shots of electricity through his veins. After a few moments,Yashiro let his hands wander down to Satoru’s chest, pushing apart the hospital robe and exposing clear skin to the air. He rubbed his thumbs against Satoru’s nipples, his other fingers digging into delicate skin. Yashiro was always careful to not leave bruises, no matter how badly he wanted to. His right hand left the hardened nipple to slip down to the boy’s navel, the blanket covering his body slipping down to reveal more of the unconscious body beneath him. He felt Satoru’s stomach flutter under his fingertips as they ghosted over smooth skin. As Yashiro pressed into the soft flesh under his belly button, a dark smile ghost over his face; the boy had no muscle at all-- he was still as soft as a small child. Yashiro looked at Satoru’s face. His expression was virtually the same: blank and serene, as if nothing was happening to him at the moment. The only differences from the usual was the faint blush covering his cheeks and the slight increase in pace of his breathing. The hand on satoru’s stomach wandered farther south. The body under him shuddered slightly as teeth nipped at the sensitive bud. His roaming hand met fabric clinging to skin and Yashiro smirked as he palmed the growing erection through Satoru’s underwear. Yashiro wished that he could hear the moans that would have been spilling from his beloved’s lips if he was awake. He wanted to see Satoru fighting the pleasure, gritting his teeth to suppress any noise that might escape him, his eyes glazed with hatred and fight and pleasure he didn’t want. Yashiro wanted to hear the weak “stop”s and “no”s that Satoru would force out in between the hisses of ecstasy before giving in and pleading for “more! Please!”. He wanted to see that body flushed and wet with sweat, bangs sticking to the boy’s face, his neck craning and toes curling because he isn’t used to being touched . Yashiro wanted that to be for him, just for him. But for now he settled. He withdrew his hands from Satoru’s body and pulled the sheets down to his knees before pulling the boy’s underwear down to his ankles. With a steady hand, Yashiro grinned as he ran a finger up Satoru’s erection. Pressing his thumb against the slit, he heard a small noise escape Satoru’s lips. Yashiro glanced up at his face, taking in that it was the same as before, before proceeding with his ministrations. He dug his fingertip into the slit a little before withdrawing his hand. Yashiro quietly slipped his shoes off, placing them at the side of the hospital bed before sitting in between Satoru’s legs. He grabbed the boy’s knees and pushed them up, laying his feet flat against the bed. Despite his fantasies of a very much alive Satoru, the fact that the boy was so defenseless to his ministrations was still such a turn on for him. Yashiro reached into a pocket in his pants and pulled out a small clear bottle. He carefully popped the cap open and poured the lukewarm lube onto his fingers liberally. Yashiro closed the bottle and slid it back into his pocket before placing his clean hand on one of Satoru’s knees. He reached down and slowly pushed the first finger inside his love. There wasn’t much resistance; the body of a coma victim wouldn’t tense up in anticipation (or hatred too, perhaps). Yashiro moved his finger around for a moment before slightly withdrawing his hand and adding in a second one. He heard Satoru’s breath hitch slightly and Yashiro softly chuckled to himself. Yashiro made a few scissoring motions with his fingers before beginning to shallowly thrust them in and out of the tantalizing heat. For being borderline dead, Yashiro was always fascinated with how warm Satoru was. Yashiro wondered if he was practically a necrophiliac at this point. Yashiro’s gaze shot up from his administrations when he heard a low groan from the back of Satoru’s throat. It wasn’t unusual for him to make a noise once in awhile during these sessions since the boy could breathe on his own. Yashiro felt himself smirking as he began to continuously rub the bundle of nerves he found. He could see the glistening of sweat and a rush of red painting Satoru’s face as his sweet spot was continuously touched. Yashiro imagined the intense pleasure that would have been painted on the boy’s face if he were awake. He wondered if he could force Satoru to an orgasm just by ramming into his prostate, over and over and over… “Nghh…!” Ah. Yashiro quirked an eyebrow at the white substance on Satoru’s stomach. That partially answered his question-- that the boy could get off like this when in a coma. Satoru came too quickly, Yashiro thought. Perhaps the boy was more sensitive there than usual. Carefully balancing his weight, Yashiro leaned over to the table next to the bed. It was littered with small vases of flowers from Satoru’s friends and family. By the edge, just within Yashiro’s reach, was a small packet of tissues he had brought for this occasion. He nabbed a few and settled back between the boy’s legs before quickly wiping up the mess on his stomach and tossing the sullied wad of tissues back onto the table. The ache between Yashiro’s legs was beginning to become unbarable. He shifted, somewhat uncomfortable in the confines of his pants. “Well, Satoru,” he chided softly, his voice sultry and low with lust. “What should I do about this?” Satoru didn’t respond. Yashiro grinned anyways. He moved swiftly, pushing Satoru’s legs back down. Yashiro settled above Satoru, his knees on either side of his arms and chest so that he was somewhat straddling him. He reached down and undid his belt hastily before pushing aside offending clothing and pulling out his erection. Yashiro reached down and pulled Satoru’s head forward with one hand. Using his other hand to grip the boy’s jaw, he forced his mouth open. Yashiro stifled a chuckle as he snaked both hands to the back of Satoru’s head, his fingers tangling with silky black hair. He moved his hips slightly forward, feeling a spark in his gut as the tip of his dick touched Satoru’s lips. He felt the faint warmth of breath ghosting open his skin and he relished in the idea that one day, maybe, Satoru would be awake when Yashiro did this to him. Biting his lip, Yashiro thrust in as he pulled Satoru’s head forward, groaning as the heat surrounded his flesh. He imagine Satoru gagging as he was forced to take in all of Yashiro’s dick, his tongue struggling to push the offending flesh out of his mouth but not daring to bite because Satoru knew the repercussions of that. Yashiro began to shallowly thrust, never moving too far out because he couldn’t resist the heat of his comatose former student. The sensation of Satoru’s cheeks hollowing slightly as Yashiro pulled back and the feeling of hitting the back of his throat as he thrust in was tantalizingly immense. He wanted to see Satoru’s eyes glaring up at him, flinching when Yashiro pulled his head forward a little too much. He could see Satoru fighting against the restraints that kept his hands from pushing Yashiro away. His body tense as Yashiro fucked his defiant mouth. Yashiro would make sure to thrust a little too deep, pull a little too hard; he would make sure Satoru knew he belonged to Yashiro and Yashiro only, no matter how much the boy hated it. Yashiro felt a moan slipped past his lips as he felt a familiar warmth pool in his stomach. He was slightly disappointed that he wasn’t going to last a little longer, but he figured time was of the essence at that point. With a quick motion, he pulled Satoru’s head forward as he came, relishing in the bliss that overwhelmed his system. He waited, staying still inside the boy’s warmth as he milked out his orgasm. Yashiro felt one of his knees spasm slightly as he pulled out. He hovered over Satoru for a minute in a daze before taking a deep breath to calm himself. Untangling his fingers from his beloved’s hair, Yashiro quickly tucked himself back into his pants and redid his belt buckle. He peered down at Satoru and wiped off a bit of cum on his lip with his thumb before pushing it into Satoru’s open mouth. Gently, he wiped the pad of his thumb against the boy’s tongue before withdrawing his hand and closing his mouth. With calm in his movements and satisfaction in his eyes, Yashiro removed himself from the hospital bed and proceed to put Satoru back together. With his clothes securely back on and the bed sheets tucked in, the room looked as if the events that had just unfolded had never happened. Yashiro nabbed the packet of tissues still on the table and tucked it back into his pocket before tossing the discarded wad of tissues into the room’s wastebasket, throwing in a few dying flowers to cover it. Yashiro walked back over to Satoru’s body. The boy looked untouched other than the fading flush on his cheeks. Yashiro leaned down and stole a chaste kiss from his Spice, running his fingers down the boy’s face before turning to leave. As Yashiro exited the room, he nodded and smiled at the nurse about the enter, already planning when his next visit would be. End Notes This is really a guilty ship of mine... I can't help but indulge in it (/。\) Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!