bottan | Clampkink Deanon: Crimes of War

Title: Crimes of War - Catharsis
Pairing: KuroFai
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Violence, sexual violence, dub-con/rape, blood, lots of angst. Fleeting mention of character death. ~~Randomly appearing baton.~~
Summary: AU. Kurogane Suwa hasn’t seen his former trusted ally and lover, Fai Flowright, for years. When they meet again, positions are different and love is something that Kurogane can’t even consider in the face of what Fai has done. Written a few months back for the following prompt at clampkink: “Kurogane/Fai Prison Sex. Kurogane is the head guard and Fai is a inmate.”

When this war had started, Kurogane had thought that the everlasting coldness and the gray wintry sky of this country wouldn’t affect him. That nothing would ever affect him, as long as his princess was by his side and as long as the weight of his Arisaka type 99 pulled at his shoulder.

He’d never have thought that something could bruise his pride to this extent, could hurt him like this, could actually break him.

Those days, Kurogane Suwa thought he was invincible.

It had been three years since then.

General Suwa stared over the top his folded hands and the messenger’s shoulder at gray, crumbling walls. The bunker lay ten feet below the most ugly prison Chuugoku had ever erected, and it found itself in Japanese hands, now, with Kurogane supervising it. Guiding the warfare from here, as for all the prison was build to be escape-proof, Kurogane knew that people had a hell of a time breaking in, as well.

As for living quarters, however, the bunker complete crap. It was humid and mold sprouted from damp walls like there was no tomorrow. Kurogane hadn’t seen natural light for a week at this point, and it was starting to make him antsy and stir-crazy. The neon tubes were constantly flickering and from time to time the earth around them shook with the thundering of a magical attack. He needed to be out on the field.

At this moment, however, after these news, he felt almost disconnected from his body. Through a haze of rage and a deep, twisting feeling in his stomach, before his inner eye a frozen, white landscape rose up. And he was staring at the face that had followed him into his darkest dreams.

He braced his arms on the table top, rising to his feet in a controlled and calm movement. His face must have betrayed the turmoil in his innards, however. The errant boy flinched.

“Bring him in,” he growled. The boy saluted and stuttered his, “yes, sir,” before bolting from the room.

Kurogane took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second and calming himself. His gaze wandered over towards the map which was hung up at the side of the room. Red and blue pins marked won and lost combats against Chuugoku. The red frontline had eaten its way far into the Chinese territory years ago and wasn’t moving since years, now. It was an embittered war. A war that you wouldn’t want any soldier to undertake. Kurogane had been up at the front against the goddamn magicians of the other army and he knew what was talking about. None of them could wait for the end of this goddamn, static warfare, anymore. He was heeding command over more troops than he could ever personally know but the tragedy that death meant not only to this war but also their families back home wasn’t lost to him. He hated to see them crumble and die like that. He felt like he was failing.

He still found it hard to understand why the emperor had promoted him after his dire failure back then. After misjudging a person so extremely. He secretly wondered if the only reason had been that there just hadn’t been anyone else left to fill this spot.

Steps in the hallway drew Kurogane’s attention back towards the door.

The prisoner of war was partly stumbling and partly getting dragged into the room. His uniform was stained with dirt and blood, and a gaping hole was ripped into the fabric at his leg where fresh bandages flashed and already started to stain.

For a brief moment, something in Kurogane’s chest coiled up so tightly that he couldn’t breathe. The name on his lips was as familiar as it was alien.

“Flowright,” he growled and the man looked up. It was a slow, tired movement, his body hanging limply from the guards’ arms. His face was so pale that it seemed a sick green in the unsteady light, skin shining with sweat and there was pain engraved in the set of his mouth. Slow horror was creeping over his features.

“Kurogane,” the prisoner responded with an off-kilter, pained smile and something like strangled laughter escaped his throat. “My god, looks like I’m really down on my luck.”

Kurogane stared coldly at him then he appointed the guards: “Tie him to a chair. And then get the hell out of here.”

Soldiers don’t ask many questions when at war.

The knots wound tight around wrists, upper arms and ankles and Flowright was gasping for air when his wounded leg brushed against the chair. When the door closed, the prisoner’s gaze was fixed to his own lap.

Kurogane stared down onto blond, matted hair and something burning, aching was turning his guts. The hum of the fluorescent lamps filled the room, mingling with the sound of blood rushing in his ears. There was something hanging between them, thick as gelatin, that had accumulated in three years time. Flowright’s breathing was shallow.

“So you finally let yourself being captured, huh,” Kurogane stated.

The man in front of him laughed hollowly and without even lifting his eyes. “I’ve been wounded and Fei Wong Reed’s troops didn’t seem too keen on taking me with them, Kuro-pup,” he said in a small voice.

“Yeah, right, as though they’d leave their first mage behind,” Kurogane hissed.

There was a moment of silence, before the other one responded, voice a notch higher than before, “You… your priestesses have tested me, so it should be in the report, but… I am unable to use my magic anymore. I’m useless to him.”

Kurogane stared at him darkly. He didn’t believe a word out of that filthy mouth, even if only a moment ago he had read exactly those sentences in his documents. Flowright seemed to notice his disbelief. He swallowed thickly and struggled to continue.

“I… attempted something that isn’t possible to even the strongest magician and my magic got taken away from me in the process… I-”

Kurogane cut him off angrily. “As though I’d care.”

The other stared at him for a moment and then averted his eyes and laughed quietly and mirthlessly. Kurogane didn’t know much about magic, but he had seen what Flowright was able to do with it. He could cloak whatever magic he was doing to an extent that not even Japan’s best priestesses could feel it, anymore. Hell, the bunker would be reduced to rubble in mere seconds if the man had wanted it to.

“You never change, do you?” the other’s voice was bitter. “Not caring for my past, for what I’ve done before…”

“Stop giving me this shit,” Kurogane snarled dangerously. His voice was hoarse and so full of pain that he didn’t recognize it himself. “How could you betray her like that?”

Flowright slumped in his chair but didn’t answer. And the cold anger that had been eating away at Kurogane for three years now was suddenly so hot and pressing, flaring up his throat and reddening his vision, that he clutched the edges of the table he leaned against in a pure attempt to not shoot the man right here and now.

“I trusted your lying ass, bastard,” he ground out and then he was hollering, “Damn shit, look at me!”

Flowright – Fai – lifted his eyes slowly and fixated a point somewhere behind Kurogane’s shoulder. His face was blank – detached. Eyes void of emotion, completely resigned to his fate. As hopeless, as dead as one could be while still breathing.

Something inside Kurogane snapped. It took him two steps to reach the man and punch him square into the face.

Fai let out a yell as his head flew to the side.

He didn’t move from there but he was breathing hard. Kurogane seized him by the throat and forced him to look up at him. Blood was welling from his lips and dripped along his chin and he moaned, his eyes closed.

Kurogane grit his teeth and his grip tightened on Fais neck and he shook the other, “You know what you’ve done, you cold bastard!?” The man choked and trashed against his bonds. Useless effort, the rope was holding his arms fast in place. His eyes shot up, the terror of being choked written clearly across his face.

“Do you know what you’ve done!?” Kurogane repeated with a roar. He pushed the man away, making the chair rock back on its hind legs, before it crashed back forward. Fai was gasping, his wide eyes staring into nothingness.

“You betrayed us… you’ve killed Tomo…” Kurogane’s voice broke and he drew a shaky breath before continuing. His throat was tight and the words he pressed out hot and halting. “You led us all into a trap.” And then there was a finality and unreality that send shivers down his own spine, when he said, “You got Tomoyo’s death on your conscience.”

Snow was falling in thick flakes. Fai and him were the only guards the clairvoyant had taken along besides the priestesses who were working their magic now. Down in the valley the former capital of Chuugoku stretched out – now it was the center of Fei Wong Reed’s warfare. Even with the priestesses’ efforts it was a small miracle that they went unnoticed so close to the enemy’s most vulnerable territory.

In the middle of the magical circle, surrounded by the other women, the Tsukuyomi was weaving a net of shimmering magic and the hum of the priestesses’ prayers rose in the icy cold air of a starless night, their song wrapping the small group in a cloak of darkness. And hopefully successfully concealing the magic as well, Kurogane thought and shivered while looking out over the snow.

He threw a glance at Fai at the other side of the magical circle and saw him staring back. There was something off about his expression that made Kurogane stop in his tracks. A deep, lingering sadness that Kurogane knew nothing about. Couldn’t even begin to understand. The soldier grew restless.

He had travelled with Fai for long enough to trust the other with his life. Thought he could understand the man well enough even without knowing every detail on his background. But in this moment, while looking at those distant, sad eyes, he wondered if he hadn’t been foolish to never ask. And the moment he opened his mouth to call out to the other, going against his direct orders from the Tsukuyomi not to raise his voice and disrupt the witches’ concentration, a shudder ran through the other man. And the magician raised his hand, infinitely slowly, eyes unmoving, and his form started glowing and making the night around him seem even darker than before. Something was happening to the right and, as though an invisible wall had been torn down, Kurogane could suddenly feel the presence of hundreds of enemies. His head snapped around and where the glistening capital below had been a moment ago, the sight was now barred with a thick mass of Chinese soldiers.

A single black arrow detached itself from the darkness, soaring high. Kurogane cried out and he bolted for his princess. The young woman was still entranced and wrapped in swirling magic when the priestesses’ influence shattered.

The shaft fell with a thick noise upon soft flesh. Kurogane felt it as though it had hit himself.

Kurogane caught Tomoyo and as the magic around her dispelled and flitted into the night air like a swarm of tiny, glowing insects, she looked at him, eyes wide with surprise. Blood welled up between her lips and she opened them to a wet choke. Her body shook and the light in her eyes went dark.

Kurogane couldn’t remember what had happened after that. When he saw straight again, Fei Wong’s army lay dead at his feet and so did the priestesses. The magician had vanished. And the only thing Kurogane could do, the only thing that was left to do, was to pick her cold, stiff body up from the snow and carry her body home.

The silence was so thick that Kurogane felt it was suffocating him. Felt he was drowning in this moment that he had awaited for years. The magician shuddered violently, undoubtedly recalling the same, cold landscape that flared in front of Kurogane’s eyes. And then, ever so slowly, the prisoner was falling forward. Slowly, slowly slumping down in his chair, until his face almost touched his knees. As far as his arms tied behind the chair’s back would allow him to go.

“You killed Tomoyo,” Kurogane repeated. Reality seemed to be lifted out of its axis, layers of the past heaping on this conscious moment. He had never doubted the present. Until that day three years ago he had believed that nothing could ever get to him.

He had lost that kind of faith.

“Kill me,” a small, strangled voice rose from the slumped figure before him. A shudder ran through the twisted body, arms tied painfully high behind the chair’s backrest. “Shoot me,” the man choked out.

Kurogane stayed silent. Fai’s head shot up and stared at him. His eyes were fever bright and glinting with wetness as he tore at his bonds. “Release me,” he gasped. “give me your damn gun and I’ll do it myself! I’ll shoot myself-“

Kurogane grabbed him by the hair and pulled the man up, having him scream out in pain.

“You goddamn coward, at least look at what you’ve done!” Kurogane roared into his face. Fai closed his eyes tightly and tears welled up between his lids.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he uttered chokingly.

Kurogane wanted to hit him.

And he kissed him instead, hot and brutally, teeth crashing and the taste of blood in his mouth. And there was nostalgia in the way the other melted against his lips and Kurogane’s eyes were burning. At the same time, there was so much anger waiting to be set free, so much need to destroy something, to break what had broken him. So much black hatred for the world that no man could sooth it. There were hot and cold shivers running down his spine and pulling his abdomen into needy knots. Both of them were breathing hard when Kurogane pulled back.

“You fucking coward, this once be honest with me,” he growled. “It was the last ritual. The Tsukuyomi could have ended the war at that time. It was dangerous, it was risky, but you know she could have done it. If not her life, then what the fucking hell was more important than saving us all these goddamn years of war?” His fingers dug deep into Fai’s hair and the man moaned in pain. “What was important enough to sacrifice the princess for, damn it, why did thousands of soldiers have to suffer and die from your cowardice!?”

Fai’s gaze was blue melancholia when he breathed, “He’d said he wouldn’t kill her.”

“Stop fucking with me!!” Kurogane roared.

Fai closed his eyes and his lips painted a thin, bloody line across his face.

Kurogane’s anger soared white hot and he hurled the chair clattering to the ground. Fai cried out in surprise and pain when he hit the concrete floor. He was shuddering again.

Kurogane hooked his foot under the bound man’s side and threw him on his back. The prisoner gasped and whimpered when his hands were bruised between the ground and the chair’s backrest. Kurogane put a boot on top of the man’s chest and a second, pained wail rose up and the sound of ribs cracking rewarded him.

“Why?” Kurogane repeated growling. The man stared up at him, breathing heavily against the weight.

“I told you it doesn’t matter anymore!” The man spat in angry desperation. Fai’s eyes were overflowing with tears. Kurogane put more weight on his foot and the prisoner coughed and choked. “My brother…” the hoarse voice said. “He held Yuui prisoner… it was no use, he killed him, anyway …”

Kurogane stared for a moment. He couldn’t think, head filled with roaring anger and pulse hammering behind his eyes.

When he heard his own voice breaking the silence, he couldn’t even remember wanting to say anything.

“You have no brother.”

The man stared at him from the ground, breath shallow and whistling.

“We’ve worked together for one year and for fucking six months we’ve shared a bed. You’ve been smiling and lying and planning our death when we weren’t looking. You have no brother.”

The man beneath him closed his eyes and something that could have been breathless laughter rose from his lips.

For a moment there was nothing. Then, quietly, “Technically, I am a liar.” Gray eyes opened and stared unseeing at the ceiling. “Maybe you’re right and I have no brother.” His voice sounded hollow.

And Kurogane did exactly know that the other had no reason to lie to begin with. That he was only begging him to end it.

And he didn’t care.

There were three years between them. Three years filled with anger and incomprehension, with disappointment and disillusionment, three years in which he had seen the world around him crumble and die. Three years in a cold, foreign country, three years filled with violence and the stench of death. Three years without Tomoyo. Three years in which he woke up screaming from dreams of the Tsukuyomi’s pale, bloodied face, three years in which the ghostly memory of the mage’s touch kept him awake at night. Three years, in which everything he had believed in grew stale.

Three years in which hot, twisting anger had slowly turned into cold hatred.

Kurogane lifted his boot and the prisoner gasped for air, chokingly.

The general wrenched the chair upright und dragged it to the desk where he pushed it up roughly to crash against the edge of the table. The man seemed to be in pain, breathing hard and keeping his eyes shut. Kurogane didn’t know how much blood he had lost through the wound in his leg, but he thought the guy’d get it up anyways.

He unbuckled his belt with a snap and the thick fabric whirred out of the loops. He slung it around Fai’s neck and tightened it until the Adam’s apple was visibly pressed into the throat and the blonde’s breath was pressed and hasty. The general let the buckle snap shut and the man beneath him twitched as tender skin caught in the hinges.

“Kuro-sama,” the man pressed out and Kurogane’s hand twitched out to slap him across the face. The blonde man was moaning and stretching his neck desperately to force more air inside his lungs.

“Don’t you dare calling me that, fucking bastard,” Kurogane snapped.

He slid a pocketknife out of his uniform and let the snap open, letting it wander along Fai’s jaw line. The man’s breath hitched and he tried to turn away from the cold touch.

Kurogane kissed him. Letting his free hand slide along the soft neck, thumbing across the belt bereaving the other man of air and feeling his cock twitch when he let his hand slide inside the dirty uniform, feeling for his ribs. Fai moaned in a needy way and Kurogane let go of his lips in order to let the knife slide in his collar. With one deft movement and a sharp ripping noise the shirt fell away.

Fai twitched and uttered a soft scream when the blade slipped and left a thin red line next to his navel. The skin over his stomach was tight and working and Kurogane ripped the shirt aside to let his hands travel over the well-known body, smearing the bit of blood that welled up from the cut and rubbing his thumb across the nipples. Fai writhed under his touch.

The protruding ribs were more prominent than years ago and the sheen of sweat on the fast cooling skin more unhealthy than he remembered it. There were new scars to that pale body, angry red gashes to his biceps and sides.

Kurogane kneeled in front of him, licking up the blood and prodding at the new wound with his tongue. He cupped the man’s cock through his trousers.

Fai was already so hard that it had to hurt.

He whimpered, biting his lips, as Kurogane started massaging him roughly through the fabric.

Kurogane opened the blonde’s belt and got his cock out. Fai moaned, member fully erect and flush against his stomach even after so little stimulation and Kurogane’s own aching member remembered him of how long it had been since this damn war had left him enough breath and a mind clear enough to make touching himself enjoyable.

Kurogane ripped Fai’s belt out of his pants, a leather one, and Fai screamed hoarsely as the rough material rubbed against his cock. Then the general kneeled, untying the knots at his enemy’s ankles with effective movements. Then he cut open the military pants from ankle to hip so that he could remove the fabric effortlessly from under Fai and threw the tatters carelessly to the ground. He grabbed the man by the hips and shifted him forwards on the chair that was propped up against the desk, until his ass was resting at the edge of the furniture and pulled his legs over the armrests to bind them there tightly once again. Fai cried out in pain and his whole body was trembling when Kurogane reached for his hurt leg. When he stood, knife still twirling in his hand, Fai lay completely immovable in front of him, arms still tied up behind the chairs back, his body bent to fit the chair’s form, legs spread widely exposing him shamefully. His eyes were downcast, skin glistening in a sheen of cold sweat and his erection was receding – the pain from having his leg moved, Kurogane supposed.

He pressed the blade under Fai’s chin so that he was forced to look up and Fai panted, as there was hardly air passing through his constricted throat. He looked at him through long lashes, face pale and expression somewhere between fear, resignation, and a heady kind of lust. Kurogane kissed him and Fai was gasping, not being able to breathe. When Kurogane let go off him his breathing was desperate and rough and his cheeks were reddened. His cock had come back to life, too.

Kurogane moved his hand downwards between the man’s ass cheeks and he pressed into Fai’s dry entrance shoving one finger in all the way up to the knuckle. Fai screamed and his cock twitched. Kurogane felt the ass clamping down on him. He added a second digit without further preparation, scissoring his tight entrance open. Fai threw his head from side to side, moaning in pain and muscles contracting and straining but being unable to move away. And Kurogane was desperate to hurt him when he shoved the third digit in and something inside Fai ripped, coating his fingers in warm blood, when he moved them in and out and a red droplet worked its way down his palm. The man whimpered weakly, seemingly resigned to his fate.

Kurogane pulled out and stepped back, wiping his bloodied fingers on his trousers. He took his time looking down on the humiliated man. The ring of muscles beneath his balls was working, as though trying to relax in order to prepare for what was to come.

Kurogane stepped around the desk, opening one of the drawers in order to pull out what shouldn’t have been there in the first place. The office lay far below the ground, under the old, Chinese prison, and even though Nihon had been bold enough to deposit their prisoners of war here, even the guards over their heads were patrolling with their rifles slung over their shoulders rather than having a baton at their sides. Kurogane could have thrown it out long ago but didn’t quite care enough. It had rested behind a stack of papers for a long time now.

The truncheon felt cold and heavy in his hand.

Kurogane let rotate in his fingers and he stepped around the desk where the blond man was watching him out of hungry, reddened eyes. Kurogane came to a stop next to him and let his hands travel over flushed skin of chest and shoulders. The other moaned and when Kurogane moved his crotch near the other’s face he laid an open-mouthed kiss against the fabric and the hard cock underneath. Kurogane shuddered, when he felt hot breath and a tongue darting out. Kurogane stepped back, watching his former lover writhing in his bonds, member still flush against his stomach and his anus bloodied. The whole situation hit Kurogane as a twisted mirror image of the past, of silent nights that were dedicated to sex and sharing warmth in a country that had their bones aching with coldness. And all he wanted now, was to wipe it out, to negate what once had been. To fuck this man bloody and raw, to hurt him as bad has he had hurt Kurogane.

Kurogane let the baton swirl and smash down on Fai’s upper arm.

The man let out a strangled cry.

The second time, Fai bit his lip und a suffocated groan worked its way out of his throat. The third time it was louder and Fai was breathing harder through his constricted throat. Fourth time and his lip had started bleeding again. Fifth time and he had opened his mouth into a silent scream. Sixth time evoked a hoarse sound and seventh time had a thread of spit and blood drip from his lips. Kurogane moved in to wipe it away, smearing the red mixture across Fai’s cheek. The man was leaning into the touch, whimpering in pain, eyes closed and brows drawn together. Kurogane put his thumb inside the man’s mouth and Fai sucked it obediently. His hips bucked up desperately to move against Kurogane’s abdomen.

Kurogane let the baton swirl and kneeled down, one hand at the connection between hip and thigh and the other one steadying the baton.

Fai gulped audibly when the cold rubber pressed against his anus. He cried hoarsely when Kurogane pushed it in.

Kurogane felt hot and cold shivers run down his spine when the blood started flowing again, stronger this time, the hole clamping down hard on the foreign object, and the screams above were filled with nothing but pain, Fai not even attempting to tone them down anymore.

Kurogane was hard.

He didn’t think. He was fucking Fai with the baton, gripping his cock and pumping it and strangely enough Fai seemed to be getting off at the pain this time. He came, bleeding all the time and with a long, pained wail.

Kurogane pulled the baton out and stood up. He opened his pants in a rush and Fai looked at him through hazed eyes when Kurogane was pushing into the bleeding, tight body. Fai whimpered with each thrust and his eyes were shut tightly or fixated somewhere on Kurogane’s chest.

Kurogane felt nothing but physical heat and ecstasy, the nearing orgasm and the explosion when he came inside the other.

He pulled out, letting the chair crash back on all fours. He breathed heavily and wiped the blood from his member with a almost clean handkerchief before throwing it into the dustbin and zipping up his pants.

Fai was slumping on the chair. His body was twitching bleeding, and the parts of his upper arms that Kurogane had hit with the baton were coloring in angry red that would soon enough be ugly violet and green. He was abused and bruised and covered in cold sweat and tears were flowing freely from his eyes. He was shuddering pathetically.

“And now…” he swallowed around his voice, hoarse beyond recognition. “…shoot me…” he whispered.

And Kurogane cocked the gun, pointing it straight at Fai’s head.

Fai twitched ever so slightly at the sound and his exhausted face lifted just far enough to look right into the barrel.

Kurogane’s fingers bent around the trigger-

-and the world crashed down around him.

It was as though something in his chest was bursting open with such force that pushed every conscious thought out the back of his head. He was left floating, room contracting and expanding around him, and his vision growing white. The pistol fell from his limp fingers and the next thing he knew was that he was kneeling and then there were tears streaming down his cheeks. At first they fell silently, dripping into his open, raw hands, then he drew a long shuddering breath, all the time staring into Fai’s face. He looked down, mindlessly crying, heel of one hand pressed against his forehead and fisting into his hair.

It could have been a minute, but it felt more like twenty before the tears stopped and his breathing calmed down. He stared at Fai and the man stared back, just as broken and exhausted as Kurogane.

Kurogane stood on wobbly legs and he freed the other man. Fai breathed sharply and needy when the belt around his neck was opened and Kurogane tried untying the knots with trembling fingers before he cursed quietly and grabbed for the knife to cut the other free. Without the bonds and after enduring the impossible position for such a long time Fai simply slumped in his chair, too exhausted to do anything at all.

Kuroagne tore open the cupboards at the side of the room and pulled out all the emergency blankets he could find, spreading them out on the bare floor. He lifted Fai from the chair as carefully as he could and the man whimpered and shuddered when his wounds and bruises were shifted. His skin was feverish and his pupils wide under heavy lids. And as the tension lifted, he fell unconscious almost immediately. Kurogane caught the limp body and pulled it carefully over to the pathetic make-shift bed, laying it down before covering it with more blankets.

And he breathed.

Looked down at the sick, weak body of the person he had once loved.

The only person that had ever torn down his walls.

A strange kind of peace descended upon him and it was weird that it didn’t contradict the shame for the way he had let himself go. For the way he had hurt this man. Exhaustedly he covered his face with his hands.

There was a thick, deep regret gnawing at him for what war had made of them.

~Epilogue~