Captivation

Warnings/notes : Seto/Joey, slight bondage, slight lime

Disclaimer : I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

written at 12th september 2003, by Misura

inserted parts written at 20th september 2003, by Cilara

Author's note : This fic's written around snippets of a fic Misura sent me, just to ask me what I thought about them. She was nice enough to give them to me when I asked. I hope the result's not going to disappoint!

**********

He no longer looked up when his captor entered, blond bangs hiding the eyes that had burnt defiantly at the beginning. Now they had lost their glow, even though certain actions could still spark a fire in them.

"Pup."

No reaction. His captor sighed, from impatience or disappointment perhaps ; he neither knew nor cared. Ignoring him only postponed the inevitable ; he couldn't escape from here, couldn't escape from this.

He clung to hope with a desperation born from his nature, not because his mind had provided him with any options to get away. His hope was an empty one.

Cold hands were gripping his face now, lifting it up. Blue eyes bore into his, while he fought down the urge to flinch or try to turn away. Doing either would displease his captor.

Once, mere days ago, he wouldn't have cared. In fact, he'd have reveled in it, in an act of defiance however small and futile. Not anymore.

The lips that brushed against his were cold as well. He was glad of it really, it made it easier to remember this kiss was only a parody of one, a pale copy, a lie. Not real.

His hands were chained to the wall, meaning he could not resist the slow strokes over his chest, could not put a stop to the fingers brushing through his locks in a gesture that was almost tender.

An illusion, he knew, for who would drug and chain someone to the walls of his cellar if he cared for that person in the slightest? Only a madman, and though his captor was many things, most of them unpleasant, he was utterly sane.

The kiss of ice was broken and now the lips were trailing down his chest as well, softly sucking on the soft skin, heating it up just enough to make the cold all the more sharper when they moved on, downwards.

He kept his eyes closed, during all of this, not wanting to see. Seeing would mean he had to believe this was all real, that all of this was happening to him and would happen again and again until his captor grew tired of him and ... do what?

Kill him, to keep him from causing any problems? Right now, death sounded welcome.

His trousers were pulled down and a distant part of his mind wondered why his captor insisted on keeping him dressed. Wouldn't it be easier to keep him naked, to make his humiliation complete? He tried to feel any repulsion at the idea, but his emotions had all faded into numbness days ago.

All of his body was going cold now, without the body of his captor pressed against the skin that had been covered by clothes before those were ripped away. The only contact that remained was a pair of cold lips, slowly trailing down.

He gasped when they touched his inner thigh, when breath teased the sensitive skin there. That breath was warm, yet the knowledge of what would come next made his blood run cold.

He knew he would yell, knew he wouldn't be able to keep his cries inside, knew this time wouldn't be different from all those previous times before this one. He preferred to pretend he didn't know how many there had been, how many times his body had betrayed him.

His captor whispered to him that he wanted this, needed this sometimes, afterwards when his body hung limp and wrung out and his captor was putting back his clothing in order like a worried mother-hen. He didn't want to believe that.

Something hot and wet engulfed him and he felt the rush of blood to the spot between his legs. He tried to keep from responding, from reacting to this twisted parody of love-making.

The sound of a voice screaming rang through the cell. He faintly recognized it as his own. There were no words to his cry, not yet. Those would come only later, he knew, at the moment of his body's ultimate betrayal.

It ended abruptly, as always.

"Seto!"

The name fell from his lips reluctantly. He often wished there was another one he could call, someone he had loved, truely loved, before ending up here.

Silence returned then, broken only by the hard breathing of his captor. After a while, something soft brushed away the last traces of his shame, before rearranging his clothing.

The first few times he'd been afraid of what he was sure would follow, but his captor didn't seem interested in anything more from him. He didn't understand that, though he had given up trying to understand his captor long before he had ended up here.

A last brush of lips past his cheeks, the flicker of a tongue lapping at the tears he couldn't hold back any more than his cries and the sound of footsteps departing.

"Why?"

He whispered the question too soft to be heard. Maybe, he thought, because he was afraid of knowing the answer, of hearing this situation had been his own fault in some way.

Soon, his captor would return with a tray of food, which he would be fed spoon by spoon, like a baby or someone who had been ill. The food tasted dull, though it filled his stomach. He had no idea what it was that passed his lips, didn't really care either.

What he ate was the least of his worries right now.

Exhaustion dulled his senses, causing him to miss his captor re-entering the room, only noticing it when a spoon pressed insistently at his lips. He parted them willingly enough.

The act of chewing and swallowing distracted him from his thoughts for a little while. These moments were the only things he had to look forward to, the only events he welcomed.

Too soon, the food was gone, as was his captor, leaving him alone with his thoughts and fears. He was amazed he could still cry sometimes, that his eyes hadn't run dry yet.

"Setosetosetoseto."

He shivered, wondering why that name was the only one that seemed to mean anything to him these days. Surely there had been other people who had had some importance to him, whom he had held dear? Yet he couldn't recall their names, couldn't see any faces but that of his captor.

Dropping his head to his chest, he felt the flood of tears wash over him once more, reducing him to sobs, while that name still fell from his lips, resounding in his mind.

"Seto."

*****

He woke up, sheets sticking to his sweat-soaked body, a look of fear in his eyes. Walking to the window, he sadly eyed the pale moon and stars, illuminating the night sky.

As he opened it and the cold draft made his body shiver, he closed his eyes, trying to erase the images of his nightmare from his mind. He didn't quite succeed though and dawn found him resting on the windowsill.

His blue eyes were red-rimmed to testify of the many sleepless nights before this one, yet the worried inquiries of his little brother were brushed aside with a careless gesture.

~OWARI?~