BYMW, Kuura

Warnings: non-con, angst, m/m, incest

A soft giggle made its way past full lips, as a bright blue ball found its being defying gravity once again, before it was met with harsh reality as it bounced against the asphalt. The giggling boy seemed to be in his teens, choppy black hair falling around round eyes as he jumped and ran around, playing with two remarkably similar looking children. Yet even as he laughed and played with the duo, it seemed that there was something truly absent in his expression and way of moving. Every grip on the bright ball seemed a little lax; every movement seemed to cause a slight flinch to marr his beautiful face. And every time he bent over, a grimace found its way onto his full lips. Teeth found the lip and drew it in between before chewing on it softly. Maybe he should've fought last night, not just taken it like normally.

"I'm sorry, Illuusia, Villi," the soft voice of the boy apologised to the twins. "I'm going to go inside, and you should too. It's getting dark." Accompanied by quite annoying squeals of annoyance and pleas of 'do we have to go?'. But the young teen held firm, just shaking his dark head at the two whilst dark eyes glinted with something that might've been slight worry. Moosa had not arrived home yet, and Kuura was slowly beginning to get even more apprehensive. He knew he had been away for some time now, coming back home only to visit the twins because their inconsolable phone calls had become too much for the young Asian to bear. Also, he did want to see his parents, even if they were still quite oblivious to the world and the happenings. Sometimes, Kuura wondered, how on earth did his parents even get by in this cruel world? He was sure that he himself had seen and experienced worse things than his parents. And this thought made Kuura shake his head slightly, as a wave of self-pity rolled over him.

Shepherding the two inside, he gave his mother a warm smile as he made sure that the not-so-young-anymore twins finally got themselves stripped down to their jeans and t-shirts, so that his mother could give them their evening snack. Smiling, Kuura sat down at the kitchen table, feet shuffling as he watched in amazement at the eleven year old kids wolfing down their sandwiches and then drinking at least a gallon of milk before promptly beginning to fight over whom was the first to do their homework. A grin tugged at full lips as he felt his mother wrapping her arms around him, inquiring how had he been and really, even if Kuura wasn't one to lie, he told his mother that he had been perfectly fine. Slow smiles of assurance were enough to confirm to his mother that he was indeed good and finally, her mother went off to bed. After all, it was already nine o'clock and everyone had school tomorrow. Except him.

Kuura had to wonder just how time had flown, for the last time he had checked his watch, it had been barely 7 o'clock. Getting up from the stool, he went over to brew some tea for himself, deeply immersed on thoughts of why was he here. Moosa had come onto him yesterday evening already, but he'd only done the physical abuse part. Kuura knew that he had a few nice shiners on his back, hips and stomach, and he was wondering why he hadn’t already left. Fingers ghosted over the hot teakettle, a fascination coming over him as the heat almost burned him taking his mind off of everything else. The illusion was broke, as the backdoor was slammed and finger tips met with the hot surface of the kettle, causing a gasp to leave Kuura's lips as he quickly pulled his hand back to safety. Rushing over to the sink, he placed his hander under cold water as he didn't even want to think about who came home.

Heavy footsteps entered the large kitchen, and Kuura slammed his eyes shut, concentrating on the feeling of the cold water on his hand. The stench of alcohol and the feeling of hands on his hips were things he could not ignore, and thus, he closed to tap and stood there, hands braced against the sink as he drew in a shuddering breath. Fighting down the panic that was rising, the emptiness filled him up once again as those cold hands begun trailing along his body, easily finding the places to which had been a platform for hard blows. Full lips were drawn into a thin line as he fought back every emotion that might've shown through. In a detached way he listened to the teakettle's whistle and almost breathed a sigh of relief as the body behind him moved to take the teakettle off the stove. And there, the lithe boy saw his chance.

Legs begun carrying him out of the house, and Kuura ran as if it were his life on the line. Tears began streaming down his cheeks, as he finally stopped under a streetlamp, black eyes looking up at the sky with a broken expression in them. Why did this always have to happen, could he not sleep alone for just one night? Tears mixed with the rain that begun pelting the streets, as he felt the vibration of his cell phone. Wiping 

away his tears, he fished the phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen and nearly blanched. Moosa never, never called him. With shaking fingers, he flipped the phone opened and placed it to his ear.

"Ye-"
"Do you have any idea how delectable Villi looks when asleep?" The deep voice that cut off his own made Kuura's head spin as slowly the words registered into his brain. His whole body began quivering in terror, as his mind was quick to supply unwanted images of just what his brother might do to his innocent younger brother.

"And Illuusia, she's grown so nice.." Kuura could practically feel his whole gut twisting itself into tight knots that made himself have to actually crouch down so as not to fall of his feet. Could Moosa really, really do what he was hinting at? Could he hurt the twins just because he himself had run from him?

"I wonder if they'd cry like you, Kuura," the voice continued, taunting, causing the younger boy to whimper in the most pitiful of manners. "Just like that, I remember hearing you doing just this same sound," the voice was cruel, mocking and caused Kuura's being fall into tiny little pieces. He did not want this. "Now, be a good boy and come home, you have exactly six minutes, or these two will be hurt," and with those threats, Kuura was hung up on.

Violent shivers racked his body, as black eyes were wide with fright. Slowly, the words sunk in with full force and Kuura bolted up, running towards his home. It seemed to him that it took hours upon hours to finally reach his house, when in reality it only took three minutes. Running into the twin's room, he found Moosa there, stroking their heads. He knew he was dripping water onto the carpet underneath his feet, and he knew he was breathing quite heavy as his black eyes locked with similar dark eyes. A very smug grin tugged at the other's lips as he took in the younger brother and with a grace that one who was slightly inebriated shouldn't possess, he glided over to Kuura, only to take his hand and lead him out of the room.

"I knew you'd come for me, you always do," Moosa replied to the younger, causing Kuura to choke on the breath he had been taking. How cruel could his brother get with words, he wondered, yet he knew that this was nothing compared to what that bastard of a brother was capable of. Vaguely, he realised that he was being led off to the basement, the place where his brother's room was located and the place where his own screams wouldn't wake everyone up. He knew, because he'd been in that room many times before and never had his parents of siblings come to help him. Or then, they just simply didn't care.

"Are you always going to be there for them, little brother?"

The door had barely the time to close before he was already at the receiving end of the back of a hand, causing his head to snap sideways and a pained groan leave his lips. It would bruise, but it hurt now and it would continue doing so for a while. But thoughts of this particular bruise were quickly averted to the mind-blowing pain that begun racking through his body as multiple hits began landing on his slender body and even as he fell to the ground, he was kicked and beaten. Broken whimpers forced their way out of him, pleading with the older sibling in a way that was truly pitiful. Moosa just laughed, whilst kicking the boy’s stomach causing all wind to leave Kuura's lungs. And that was when the blows stopped and Moosa kneeled by him, taking a hold of his thick hair and wrenching his hair so that Kuura was forced into looking into his eyes. Tears were running down his cheeks, as he looked at the older brother with dead eyes.

"This look befits you, my dear Kuura..."

Kuura felt those hands removing ever damp cloth on his body, and he couldn't help but whimper every time those hands found a bruise and then actually applied pressure onto the spot, causing tears to spring out of his eyes, and finally, he just let the tears run free. The tears seemed to be the only thing that told of how the boy was in turmoil, for his body had relaxed and lay lax on the floor, whilst his face was void of any expression, watching his own brother with a cold indifference. He had escaped into his own world, and he was enjoying 

the way the fairies were dancing around, cradling the young boy and every time he hurt, the fairies would take some of their dust and sprinkle it over the bruises and thus healing them instantly.

A small smile flitted onto full lips at all these happy thoughts that would never come true, confusing the older one and prompting him in a quicker removal of the young boy's clothes, and without any hesitation, cupped the younger ones arousal. And Kuura couldn't help but react. His brother knew what he was doing and right now, all the fairies had left him alone, just like everyone else. Those cold fingers were quickly working the boy into a state of arousal, before finally letting go and flipping the boy over. Tears once again began streaming down Kuura's face, as he knew what was going to happen. And he always knew what would happen, and every time he knew that he could do nothing. He knew he wasn't going to get any lubrication, and he knew that he was going to hurt.

There was no warning before the initial thrust and there was nothing to stop the loud scream as his brother thrust his penis into him without any preparation, and there was no stopping the inevitable tearing. It was with every thrust that Kuura screamed; with every thrust a new pain filled cry tore his lungs. And he screamed as long as he had a voice, and when all of his voice was gone, he was resulted into nothing but tears. Moosa was ruthless in his pounding, and whatever erection Kuura might've had, flagged and died. He felt the rug digging into his skin, yet all his mind was centered on was the pain. It was a stinging, that only increased when his brother released into him, causing Kuura to scream with the last of what his lungs had in them. A hoarse cry that was soon muffled by broken sobs.

"Always so delectable, my little whore of a brother"

His whole body was trembling as the older pulled out of him. It was violent trembling that racked his whole body as he was hit once again, a blow to the head, causing him to see stars for a moment. And then his hair was grabbed and he could see his brother's penis directly in front of his face. The blunt tip was dragged across his lips and without hesitation, his mouth opened and he took in the filthy member. And without hesitation, Moosa began ruthlessly fucking the boy's mouth, groaning in pure ecstasy and it did not take long for him to release again, leaving Kuura feeling even dirtier. Kuura swallowed, just like he had been taught to, before his brother quite promptly let his head fall to the floor heavily, causing Kuura to blissfully black out. But not before he heard the words; “You are mine, little brother. As you have always been, my little whore.”

It was the feeling of his own bed that awoke Kuura. Or no, it was the feeling of gentle jostling that woke him up. He begun to rise but the violent pain that ran up his spine prevented him from doing it, and instead, he opened his eyes and looked at the one jostling him awake. It was Illuusia.

"Hey, Kuura, it's time to get up now!" The little boy exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement
"Oh-" Kuura begun to reply, but his voice was hoarse and barely, he managed a smile at the young boy. "Could.. You tell mama to call me a cab?"
"Are you leaving so soon, already?" The boy's lower lip quivered.
"I, well- I got a call last night, I'm needed at school," was the reply, a blatant lie but Kuura couldn't help it.
"Um.. Ohkay, but.. You will be back soon, right?" The boy's voice was filled with uncertainty.
"Of course, pumpkin," managing a small smile, Kuura just looked at the happy boy and immediately, he realised what he'd saved him from.

The boy left the room, happily prancing and Kuura turned, even if he was all but capable of doing it, and begun to sob. He couldn't do this to himself, but he did. He did it just because it was what was needed to keep the twin's safe. It was the only thing he was good for. Fingernails came to scratch at a wrist, quickly irritating the skin to a red colour, before finally he drew blood. The blood drops were watched with cruel fascination, as they fell onto the white sheets and then spread out there. The continuous drips made a morbid pattern and he could hear the hustling and bustling downstairs, and he could nearly notice the footsteps of Moosa behind his door before they walked away. Pain built inside of Kuura, as every other time before, before it was swallowed into the void of similar emotions, leaving him with nothing. The tears dried, the blood clotted, and the room grew silent again.

The body curled up underneath the comforter, into the foetal position, and stayed there, not moving. Feet kicked the comforter off, leaving his bruised body for the whole world to see. And the boy did nothing but stare at the opposite wall, dark eyes empty and the crusted over tears staining his cheeks. Eyes closed tightly as he hugged himself even tighter, as an anguished wail left those lips, once again falling on silent walls that had seen so much yet not enough. And once again, the room fell silent at the same time as the boy's emotions disappeared, leaving him nothing but an empty shell.