Title: Folie à Deux

Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! belongs to Akira Amano

Pairing: Byakuran/Mukuro

Warning: Dub-con, blood, dark fic, yaoi and still un-beta-ed

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Cut me, paint me red, and I won't scream.

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—Folie à Deux—

Chapter II: Crimson Sacrifice

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He couldn't help but smile as that little piece of broken vase cut into his sallow skin, drawing mesmerizing traces of vivid crimson. Well, he would have laughed if it wasn't for his capturer moving to straddle him, suffocating him with that disgustingly sweet fragrance of pure lily. And he had thought that Byakuran would smell somewhat like orchid that was his name. But again, Byakuran was the King of Millefiore – thousands of flowers – and thus he could have smelled of anything.

Death, included.

Like those funeral wreaths that bloomed so beautifully on the gloomy grave – the very tomb of the victim.

Everything became silent. Even the hateful sound of the pitter-pattering rain seemed to drown as well as that oh-so-respectful chanting of alleluia he was certain echoed so loud in his ears the moment before. It was all silent. Yet, before the prisoner could close his eyes and again pretended he was back in his personal peaceful tank…

The sky rumbled, roaring so loud as if to remind the prisoner of the raining world he so hated.

And then, in that temporary moment of flashing light, he found himself gazing into piercing violet eyes – glowing so intensely as if ablaze with cold, unflickering flame.

It was in that moment that Rokudou Mukuro knew – even if he did hate to admit it – he was completely trapped.

In those eyes, he could see everything. He could see his very own reflection – his eerie mismatched eyes staring back with unchanging colors of ruby and cerulean. And for the first time since his eternity-like imprisonment, he started to dread how fragile he now looked. Long, silky tresses spilled out in every direction from under him, framing his all too thin feature like an ocean of endless blue.

He looked…too easy to break.

It wouldn't be an effort for the other to snap a bone or two.

The Vongola mist guardian narrowed his eyes. And the reflection reflected back at him from those Amethyst mirrors also did.

And then, he saw labyrinth – unreadable things that were even more unspeakable swirling in those unfathomable eyes.

Still, there was something that was easier felt instead of just resorting to mere sight.

The blue haired-beauty almost laughed. Almost. For instead he only smirked up at the man on top of him. He could smell so well the ember of the fire.

It was lust – so great and powerful like the entity of the man himself.

A silent but dangerous promise to devour him whole.

"Why, Don Millefiore, am I that honored?" He asked, wetting his still bleeding lips, tasting that familiar bittersweet tang of coppery blood. "To have you feel that way about me." He could feel it so well…the other man's erection rubbing, screaming for attention against his lower stomach.

Byakuran just smiled as his strong fingers put back a strayed lock behind his captive's ear before leaning in to whisper: "Haven't I told you I like you already, Mukuro-kun?" Warm tongue sneaked out to give the sensitive lobe a naughty lick. "And I'm quite positive you were listening. So does this mean that you just crave to hear that from me more?"

The metallic shackles – the Vendice's gift – chimed a clink-clank song as the sentenced criminal tried to lift his arms, along with the heavy chain up.

"Kufufu. I can still strangle you with this rusty chain, you know."

"Haha. I'd love to see you try." The white haired-man replied, knowing exactly well his beautiful prisoner was too weak to even raise his arms – the chain was too heavy. "By the way, as much as sometimes I enjoy a tidbit of formality, I'd rather you call me with my name instead of my position."

Violet eyes gleamed with meaningful mischief and also…

"Because I'd love to hear that when I finally take you."

Hunger. So raw it caused a shiver to run down his spine. Even though he acted as if unfazed.

The broken shards glittered in the flashing light like magnificent diamond but funnily enough, it seemed the one in the false angel's hand glow the brightest. It shone white when held by the blinding whiteness. All too white, all too bright it was nauseating. Mukuro's smirk widened.

"Is your name Lucifer?" The brightest star before falling, spiraling down from heaven for desiring to make his throne higher than the clouds over the earth and resemble 'his power' on high.

But Rokudou Mukuro didn't need a fallen angel to drag him down the spiral. He had already been there, at the bottom.

In hell.

"I didn't know you are so religious, Mukuro-kun, sweetheart." Those honeyed words came to him in a puff of hot breath, whispering endearment in his ear. "But then a small sacrifice won't make me a total pagan, will it?"

The sharp piece came down, tearing the ragged clothes and digging its merciless edge into soft, pallid skin, drawing red as Byakuran again sealed those sarcastic lips with his own, swallowing those spiteful words of retaliation and loving each sweet, sweet sound his beautiful captive moaned into his mouth.

"Ah…ah…"

And he adored those lovely little gasps Mukuro made between kisses. As much as their opinions seemed to contradict – very much thanks to Mukuro-kun's stubbornness – it seemed both of them enjoyed this…fascinating game of seduction. Indeed Hedonism was an interesting philosophy…and a very addictive one to pursuit.

Perhaps if he touched this forbidden child a bit more gently, he might play some more? Or perhaps…

The Millefiore boss smiled in satisfaction as he felt that the smaller man was starting to get aroused.

The rusty chain between those petite, restrained ankles sang melodically over the rapping sound of the rain. Delicate beads of cold water sprayed in through the open window as a strong gust of wind made an annoying shriek. Cold, clear droplets wetted the decorating flowers before another gust screamed and plucked a petal as if to signal…

This child might…break.

On the floor, million shards of broken porcelain glittered in the flashing light, temporary illuminated before being utterly dulled by staining crimson – warm, fresh blood that oozed through countless cuts in ghostly white skin. And then the forbidden child whispered, in between one of those sweet, sweet kisses, digging his own flesh and nails in the blood-coated shards as if he didn't fear to be hurt.

As if…he couldn't feel pain.

"You can paint me all red. I won't scream."

For it was a needy whisper perfected with one coquettish smile.

Absolutely inviting.

Because Mukuro chose to be hurt instead of feeling things so gentle. He was used to pain as if it was his best friend, his shadow from his childhood. He wouldn't scream even if the other would paint him entirely crimson, for he liked Byakuran's gentle kisses as much as he hated them.

They were unlike those lustful, searing ones that always left his lips bleeding.

The other was trying to stretch the boundary of this game. Intentionally. And Mukuro hated it, dreaded this fact that he himself knew there would be one day that he would eventually crack from this faked gentleness. And this was just the start. The very start.

He had lost.

"Just fuck me."

Byakuran raised an eyebrow, seeming a bit surprised but then, his ever-plastering smile widened – he looked like a grinning predator. "You're too cute. But I wonder…" Tracing his captive's jaw line with a finger, he bent down and captured those alluring lips again, intentionally grinding their hips together so their erections were rubbing.

Mukuro's breath hitched and he tried to dug his fingers deeper into the solid, shard scattered floor to stop his body from getting too excited. His decades of imprisonment didn't only come with gifts but also an unforgiving curse: his skin seemed to be highly sensitive to touches, especially, warm, human touches. And he was now panting like a lowly whore that lacked self-control.

How humiliating.

"Kufufu." He should be laughing at himself and saying farewell to his pride. Only that, he just couldn't stop clinging to his already damaged pride – like that broken vase of daffodils – that he could merely curse and scream and die inside. Unfortunately, he could tell he couldn't just bite his tongue and die. Byakuran would certainly make sure he would endure till the end of this sweet torture.

Blue and red, red and blue. The blood seemed to have seeped and stained his lengthy hair.

Maybe no prince visited her because she had already killed one, beautiful, crazy, bloody Rapunzel.

Blue and red, red and blue. The red was tainting, and surprisingly mixing so well in the ocean of blueness.

She had long stopped singing.

And he was panting and gasping and moaning. He didn't know when his old, ragged clothes were completely torn away. Pain mixing with pleasure as flame of hateful passion smothered him. He hated how sinfully sweet those sounds escaping his lips rang in his own eardrums.

He was intoxicated by this enchanted ambrosia.

Until the demon finally came visit her...

Violet and white, white and violet. The colors were all a blur.

"A...ahn!!!"

Those vile hands were all over him. It was like aphrodisiacs.

"Such a lovely sound. You just have to sing more, Mukuro-kun."

Because the demon knew Rapunzel wouldn't scream.

Violet and white, white and violet. Staring at those colors and he had become pliant.

Bloody death. Loving lies. Uncontrollable lust.

He was playing with something much more dangerous than fire. And he slowly melted.

Still, he wouldn't plead. He wouldn't beg. Even as one long finger glided down to caress the area no one had before dared touch. He stiffened. And Byakuran, again, smiled playfully.

"It's really your first time, isn't it, Mukuro-kun?" That finger then, without permission, entered him, probing around as if to test how the other man was reacting to the new sensation. "It's so tight in here."

Mukuro gasped, immediately tossing his head back – silky strands of hair falling into his pretty face as that naughty finger brushed against something inside him. The old, rusty chain jingled as its prisoner started to shift uneasily. His breath noticeably hastened and mismatched eyes widened as the second finger was quickly inserted.

"Ah…h…ah…"

The metallic chains kept jingling. Cold droplets of water dripped slowly from the window frame. And suddenly the already strong fragrances of various flowers decorating the room seemed to be overwhelming. He couldn't breath. It was like he was drowning even as he was being swallowed alive by smoldering flame that scorched even his long living soul. It was totally different.

It was totally degrading. It was…

Pure torture.

For he knew what was the only thing that could quench this abominable desire.

"You know it won't hurt as much if you just scream it all out." The hovering face of the devil whispered, still wearing that mask of angelic pretense.

"Kufufu. Why don't you scream for me, then?" Still, the convicted one persisted, for it might be his last chance to persist.

"Too bad. I'm just trying to be...helpful. But maybe you like it rough."

Rapunzel cracked. Her chamber crumbled. The tower fell to rubbles.

And the Corpse rotted. Dead man screamed. Only Lucifer smiled. He kissed away those glittering tears as blood seeped out to satisfy him when he finally took his sacrifice. The chains jingled like Christmas bells that brought the world joy and the children hope for presents from the Santa Clause. Yet, that night it seemed that…

There would be no sledge and no snow…as the world was still raining.

The world cried.

"Sing to me. And I'll love you."

And Rapunzel bled.

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—To Be Continued—

Because I hate your loving lies

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I'm sorry if this chapter is a bit too short but at least, this story is finally continued. Partly because I miss dear Mukuro too much. He has been MIA since chapter 169. What a significant number.

I'll have to apologize if I made Mukuro crack a bit too easily. (Though not completely. You'll see in the next chapter. But for this chapter, well, I admit I've gotten carried away. XP) Well, you see, I've been looking too much at those uke!69 fanarts and doujinshis. And I really think Mukuro makes a pretty uke. (I insist he is best uke for Byakuran, though.) Okay, I'll stop babbling.

As for the Latin in the last chapter, the translation is right at the top of the chapter and parts of the last sentence Mukuro spoke to Byakuran; Laus tibi, Domine, rex aeternae gloriae: Praise to thee, O Lord, King of eternal glory.

Anyway, thank you for every review and continuing support. And again, reviews are really, really much appreciated.

~Chesiere