When Draken comes to, his mind feels disoriented and fuzzy, like he just woke up from a very deep sleep. The very first thing that returns to him is his sense of smell, the stale, stuffy air that reeks of death entering his nostrils and assaulting his throat and it feels so dry and scratchy like he'd been screaming his lungs off in his sleep. Maybe he has. There's the tangy and coppery taste of blood in the air and also in his mouth, sort of like he swallowed his own blood, and he's parched, he needs water, he realises as he starts dry coughing.

His sense of sight hasn't come to him yet and he wonders why, he knows his eyes are open as he tries blinking once, twice and yeah he's definitely not still dreaming. A blindfold then. He tries moving around only to realise his hands are bound together as well as his legs, probably strapped to a chair to restrain his movements. He tries shouting only for muffled sounds to come through something stuffed in his mouth.

That's when he hears that first sound. footsteps. Coming closer. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't scared. He didn't know how many they were, what they wanted from him. Probably some gang, his past finally catching up to him, coming full-circle to haunt him. At least they didn't get to Inui, or Takemichy or any of the others who managed to get out, he sighs in relief. He could handle this by himself, he just had to come up with a plan, manage to get free, and then taking out a bunch of wanna-be gangsters should be easy enough. Fuckin' cowards, sneaking up from behind him and striking him unconscious.

The footsteps sounded like two or three people max. There were whispers but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what was being said, the sounds echoing like from far away still, hinting at this being a very huge space or that even perhaps the sounds were coming from a different room altogether.

"Say, Koko. Don't you think our boss will absolutely adore his birthday gift? You know how long and hard I've been working on this. Ohh, He will be so happy" Sanzu screeched, unable to contain his excitement, managing to get on Kokonoi's nerves even more than usual.

"Ughh, I don't know why I agreed to be part of this. You know I hate involving people from our past." Koko sighed.

"I think this is great." Sanzu paused to stare at Koko, intensely sizing the other up. "I know why you went along with me this time. It's because you see it too, it feels like we've been losing him more and more lately." Sanzu looked down, trying to hide his own concern and vulnerability from Koko's prying eyes. He looked up, regaining himself. "Anyway, I'm confident this will restore some life into him." He smiled, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for as well. But if this backfires, I'm pinning all the blame on you. I had nothing to do with this. If He doesn't speak to you for a month again, don't come crying to me."

"Hey! - that's mean" Sanzu pouted, making Koko giggle.

"C'mon, take me to where he is. Mikey must be right behind us already."

At that moment, a door slamming was heard, and another pair of footsteps entered the room, these ones softer, as if walking in sandals or slippers. Still, the steps sounded hurried, angry.

"I swear to god Sanzu, if this is another one of your stupid surprises supposed to cheer me up, I will commit homicide, and my target is you."

"Evening to you too, your Majesty. As lively as ever, I see." Sanzu drawls, giving a small bow, just bending the head and the nape.

"Good evening, Boss." Koko whispers, bowing a fully respectful ninety degrees, he couldn't risk getting on Mikey's bad side when he already looked like he was in a mood.

"Don't try me, Sanzu." Mikey scowls at the word 'Majesty', going out of his way to show displeasure at every new nickname Sanzu comes up with to showcase his infatuation with the other man, which fails to do anything other than make him uncomfortable, really. "Why did you drag me in here? You know I don't like being disturbed in the evenings."

Yes, Sanzu thinks, he does know. He knows too well what his King gets up to in the evenings when there's no other business to attend to. He's usually too busy being fucked to next week by some of his subordinates, advisors or executives, if not a mix of those, otherwise he's preoccupied with drinking himself numb, snorting himself numb, and injecting himself numb in a back room of one of Bonten's clubs. It's usually some combination of those. Sanzu prepared this offering for him, thinking his boss will rather appreciate a change of pace, abstaining from his own self-destruction for another kind of self-destruction.

"I know, my King. Trust me, I wouldn't go to such lengths if I didn't think it's worth it." He said as they started walking towards the direction of a bound and speechless Draken.

"Would you mind for a cigarette?" Sanzu offers, retrieving his pack from his vest pocket.

"You got anything stronger? I did two lines before coming here but it's already wearing off." Mikey shakes his head.

"I'm afraid you're gonna want to be sober for this." Sanzu smirks, dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Whatever. Give me the cigarette." Mikey rolls his eyes.

That voice. It couldn't be, Draken thought. That voice has been haunting his dreams for so long now that it can't be. It sounds different but also so unmistakably him at the same time. He would recognise that voice anywhere. He absolutely must be dreaming. He's going crazy. That's it. He needs to wake up, like right now. He starts thrashing around, urging his brain to let him wake up, using his utmost strength with the hope of triggering his sleeping brain and startling his body to consciousness. To reality. Because surely this isn't it. His heartbeat is pulsing in his temples, in his ears, deafening.

The three men round the corner to the sight of a thrashing, panicking Draken, blindfolded, traces of blood dripping from his forehead, scratches and bruises along his forearms. Stupid Sanzu didn't miss the chance to batter him up a bit, Koko observes exasperatedly. Mikey wouldn't like that.

"Woah. Easy tiger. You'll fall over if you keep that up." Koko says as soon he lays eyes on him.

Mikey stops dead in his tracks, cigarette forgotten and still burning, dangling between his lips.

He just stares for ten seconds, Sanzu is counting, observing with a perverted fascination, looking for any reaction his boss might give away. But Manjiro is always unreadable, expressions schooled into ones of indifference most of the time. Come to think of it, Sanzu hasn't seen any emotion on Mikey's face other than lust and pleasure in a long time now.

Mikey takes the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and inhales a long drag before looking up at the ceiling and exhaling with a sigh.

Then, before anyone can even process him moving, Mikey is by Sanzu's side, lifting his arm and pressing the still burning cigarette against his skin, pressing it all the way down until it shrinks and the flame is extinguished, leaving only a nasty burn and the smell of burning flesh behind.

Kokonoi is gasping by their side, delicate fingers coming up to cover his shocked, open-mouthed expression. Even after all this time, he still has a rather weak stomach.

Sanzu doesn't even flinch away from the burn, if it's his King administering the pain he will take a thousand burns. Besides, he expected some kind of retaliation such as this, hell, he expected Mikey acting out even more, maybe drawing his gun, mindlessly shooting him in the leg, if not acing him on the spot. God, Sanzu would die at such a display of power. He loved when his boss did unpredictable things like this.

Sanzu just holds eye contact, eyes dazed, taking in all the menace and the daggers Mikey's directing at him, relishing in them, trying to reign down the boner chubbing in his trousers from the proximity, Manjiro's intoxicating scent and deadly aura at that moment.

"Haruchiyo. I will only ask once. What. is he. doing here." Sanzu feels stars in his eyes. He smiles affectionately.

"What do you think. It's your birthday soon, isn't it? We thought we'd get you a little present. And what better gift than this. The object of your fantasies. Your precious little Ken-chin. He's here to serve you, to give you all the things you've dreamt of for the past twelve years."

Mikey punches him so hard he flies to the other side of the room, landing on his ass. Haruchiyo starts laughing hysterically. He has never felt so loved.

"He's here, Mikey. You can finally have at him all you want. Make him your plaything and use him until you've had your fill. Think about it! You can make him do anything you want and he cannot say no, not if he cherishes his life. You have all the power in the world to make little men like him bow down at your feet again."

"Sanzu, shut up." Koko tries. This is heading in a dangerous direction, fast. Sanzu, unheeding of Koko's warning, continues:

"You can make up for all the lost time, keep him here until you grow tired of him, until you're satisfied. And when you've had enough, throw him away like the trash he is, just like you did all those years ago. Isn't that what you did? You discarded him when he was of no more use to you."

Koko turned to look at Ryuguji, alerted by muffled whimpers and grunts coming from his direction; tears were streaming from the blindfold and down his cheeks, and he was uncontrollably thrashing and screaming like a trapped animal ready to pounce at you. Koko was sure he would if he was able to. Mikey was just passively watching, casting glances from Ryuguji's hurt form to Sanzu's maniacal ranting.

"Replaced him with people more worthy of a King like you. People like us, who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty for you. So why? Why is he still the one you want? It's always been him, hasn't it? You know, Draken? When he's doped out of his mind, we hear him masturbate while calling your name. It's pathetic. He'll have three fingers inside himself, or his favourite pink dildo, the big one, you know, he's a bit of a size queen, probably got that from you. - And I'm outside of his door most of the time, you know, guarding him and shit so I hear everything, I see everything. I see him drooling on it, for it, tears in his eyes. 'So big, Kenchin, you are so good to me. Give it to me harder, please'" Sanzu imitates, high-pitched in some sick, twisted impersonation of Mikey.

"Jesus Christ" Koko places his face in his hands, he just wants the earth to swallow him whole at this point, this whole thing is so awkward and uncomfortable and he just really doesn't want to be here. Maybe if he slowly backed away and out the door, no one would even realise he's gone.

"Sometimes he says your name while one of us fucks him, he doesn't mean it, it probably slips, or maybe he doesn't even realise it but it always hurts our feelings, you know. We've had enough of it, he's our king now, we're the ones by his side and for some reason we're still sharing him with you, still competing with you. We got together and said you know what? Maybe we should give him what he wants. Maybe if he does you one more time he'll realise you're not so great, you know; Maybe, he can finally fuck you out of his system -" Sanzu lets his voice die at the sight of Mikey lifting his arm and holding a palm up, silencing him.

Manjiro looked tired, resigned. He had accepted that's just how Sanzu is a long time ago, it's not like he would gain anything by arguing and it's too late now to try changing this mental, absolutely insane mad dog of a person he calls his number two. Sanzu was not right in the head, and that's coming from someone who hasn't been right in the head for a long time. Mikey's psychotic, but Haruchiyo is on another level. He didn't have the energy for it anymore.

"Ahh, I guess there's no helping it, is there? If you went to all this trouble it would be a shame if I didn't even get to unwrap my present. And for the record, if any of you trash actually fucked me any good anyway, we wouldn't be here right now. You should be ashamed of yourselves, being intimidated by someone I fucked when I was fifteen. Not a single one of you even comes close to comparing with Ken-chin. Now scram, you good for nothings." He closed his eyes, not even checking to see if the other two were following his order, confident that they would if they valued their lives.

There was a small part of Mikey's brain that was screaming at him. A very small one, buried under layers upon layers of darkness where suppressed, smothered light lay hidden. It felt like that part of his brain was going off, like emergency lights warning of some kind of explosion or bomb. All the things he's ever felt for the boy before him, the man before him, all the memories he's repressed, the baggage, everything his being here represents, that part of his soul that he worked so hard to extinguish, to bury, to forget, although unsuccessful; And here he was, here it was, right before him. And it's just too much. The possibility of unearthing that dump of emotions that would damage him irreparably. The chance to undo twelve years' worth of work, of pain and suffering, of trying to lock this part of himself, twelve years of living this pathetic life, just for something like this to pop up so unexpectedly, and make everything be for nothing. Just for life to laugh in his face once again. It's just too much.

He shouldn't indulge, not for himself, because he wants to and he will, but for the person in front of him, the person he cut out of his life so that he could get a better chance in life, so that he wouldn't be hurt anymore because of him, so that Mikey's darkness and toxicity couldn't influence's his life, their lives anymore. All the people he cared about. The person in front of him is a link to the humanity he severed a long time ago and just looking at him he feels human again, like he hasn't felt in a long time.

All those ugly emotions associated with having a heart, -(could it be because his heart, his Ken, his sweet little Ken-chin stood a mere metre across from him, that he suddenly felt his own started beating again?) He feels like walking up to him to check if he's okay, because if he really lets his mind go there, seeing him like this, battered and bruised and tied down, he feels that terrible anxiety which they call concern, which he also hasn't felt in a long time because he made it so he would never have to be concerned about anyone again just by exiting their lives.

If he really let himself, he would rush to him, make sure he's not hurt, untie him, remove the blindfold and the muffle gently, cradle his face, touch him everywhere to confirm it's him right there, and not some impostor; if it really was him, he wanted to feel it; take him in, feel him next to him, on him, around him, and bask in his presence, place his lips where he's hurt, right against the bruises, just like he used to when they were kids and whisper soothing words to him. 'It's okay, I'm here. Nothing bad will happen to you. Don't be afraid. If I'm here, there's nothing to be afraid of.' But the thing is, he's not worthy of all that. That kind of softness is not meant for him anymore.

Besides, it's not true anyway. He's not the invincible Mikey anymore, the protector whose presence used to signal safety and security; he's Bonten's feared number one, Sano Manjiro, whose presence brings death, danger and chaos. So, he will act like the man he is now, the monster he is now and take what he can get, take what he deserves.

He opens his eyes again, - Sanzu and Koko are gone and Draken has gone still. His head hangs limply in front of his body and he looks pliant and like he's given up. It's dead quiet and he doesn't know how much time has passed. He does that sometimes, he gets lost in his head and loses track of time. It can be minutes, hours, seconds. It's all blurry anyway.

He crouches down in front of him and removes the blindfold and muffle with mock gentleness. "Kenny" Mikey recalls how that nickname used to rile Draken up. He wants to anger this man, bring out the worst in him, just how Kenchin used to bring out the best in him.

There's a moment of static silence where the two hold eye contact and it's the most excruciating and at the same time exquisite moment in Mikey's life. Until he feels a glob of spit violently aimed straight into his eyes, and there, moment gone. Mikey doesn't have time to react, shutting his eyes a second too late, gasping and cupping a hand around himself to relieve some of the tension of his twitching erection. Truth is, he sported a half mast ever since he saw Draken sitting there in all his glory, bulgy muscles and lean built he used to love getting manhandled by working to get out of the restraints, grunts and growls just like the ones he used to to make while fuckin' him going straight to his groin.

He was totally gone by the time he crouched beside him and his musk entered his space, that hint of sweat that's so undeniably Draken invading his nostrils and taking him back to when they would stumble home hurt and bruised after a gang fight and they would be too impatient to shower and Mikey loved it more that way anyway even if Draken would call him gross for it. He would have him half-naked by the time the back of his knees hit the bed, pushing him back to fall on it, straddling him 'fuck, want you now. Take me like this.' Ken-chin would try to push him away, 'fuck, Mikey. Wait, we fuckin' stink' but before he even finished his sentence Mikey was positioning the head of his cock under him, adding pressure and trying to sink on it, grunting, dry, loving the stretch, the burn, adrenaline from the fight still running through his veins, and Draken could pretend all he wanted but he fuckin loved it, drove him crazy whenever Mikey was desperate for it like this, whenever he would take him dirty and filthy like this, both of them bruised and sweaty. He always lost it by then, fisting a hand in Mikey's hair to get a good look at his face while he was straining to get Draken's big shaft in his unprepared, clenching little hole, he would twist his fist to make it hurt just the way Mikey likes it, lick a long stripe across Mikey's throat and whisper all sweetly, mean 'Don't hurt yourself sweetheart' before really pushing him down, finally helping him get impaled on his cock by thrusting all the way up in that hot, tight cavern.

They would go at it like animals, Draken setting a brutal pace from the get-go, thrusting up into Mikey's hole while Mikey tries to retain some semblance of control but failing to do anything other than take it, really. He always complained that Ken-chin was too rough after, but he was the one who always started it, riling him up until he loses control, thinking he can lead the pace by overwhelming the other, on top, getting ready to ride him but regretting it by the time Ken-chin took the reins and really bounced him on his cock like a useless little doll until he cried- 'Fuck, you love it don't you, nasty little slut'. He's conditioned to get aroused just by being near him, but having him spit on him? Forgive him for not being a stronger man.

"God, Kenny. We haven't even started yet and you already know some of my new kinks." He moaned as he used his handkerchief to wipe the spit from his eyes, leaning down so that his lips graze Draken's ear when he whispers seductively:

"Thats why you were always my favourite, always knowing what I wanted before I even knew it myself."

"Unbind me and get the fuck away from me." Truth is, Draken was in no better position. Having Mikey so close to him after twelve years made every hair on his body stand on end, goosebumps rising on his skin, muscles twitching involuntarily. He couldn't control the intense physical and emotional shock at the image of his former best friend and lover. Seeing anyone in this state would make any sane person flinch, let alone seeing someone you've spent the past twelve years trying to stop loving, but failed. He feels like a mess.

His previous commander, who used to stand so tall and proud, shoulders big and wide, eyes full of life and mischief, bright smile who could bring any person to their knees ready to worship him, now looked like a ghost, a shell of himself, a corpse, evidence of many sleepless nights and chronic use in those empty, hollow eyes. Skinny body, frail, sickly, marred with scratches, bruises and needle marks covering the once pure skin. Face pale and lifeless when it used to be glowing, healthy, vitalised. He couldn't bear to look. He hated this. His heart ached.

"Oh, Kenny." Mikey moaned, nuzzling his Kenchin's face, effectively doing the exact opposite of what was asked of him, getting impossibly closer instead of away. Like a kitten, he rubbed his nose and cheek against Kenchin's own, arousing himself in the process, trying to close every inch of space between them, not bearing the thought of any distance separating them now that he had him here, he was selfish like that.

He straddled his lap, grinding his erection against Kenchin's thigh while continuing to nuzzle him, moving his face across the other's neck, the behind of his ears, where his shoulder meets his collarbone and staying there, inhaling hard. 'I could just come like this' he mewled, tears lining his eyes, and he convinced himself that it's lust and desperation and not a case of overwhelming emotion at the reunion. It was his Kenchin here, he was touching him, feeling good because of him.

"Kenny" he whimpered, needy, demanding, just like old times.

"Dont call me that." Draken gritted through his teeth, eyes squinting shut through the assault.

Mikey knows he hates it. The nickname's all condescending and mean, trying to coax a reaction; it's alienating, a far cry from the brotherly, affectionate 'Kenchin' that fell from his lips so many times in the past, that went through his head a million times already since he laid eyes on him, chanted in the confines of his mind like a mantra.

Mikey was always pushy like that, coming on to you with no regard to how you felt, feeling like the world was obligated to indulge him, to serve him. Draken was always, mostly fine with it, but this person was not Mikey. It was not his Mikey. He wanted to vomit. He couldn't take it anymore. He made a jerking motion that sent Mikey flying off of his lap and down to the ground. Mikey pulled a hurt expression like he couldn't believe his former second-in-command just did that.

Draken took a good look at him, now that there was some distance between them. Mikey looked so small, he had literally not grown an inch in height and he lost like half of his weight since the last time he saw him, Draken was surprised he didn't break a few bones just from the impact with the ground. But Mikey crawled back to him unfazed, not even wincing at the pain.

"What do you want me to call you? Want me to call you Kenchin? Just like the good old days? I can do it. It will be just like back then." It can never be like back then.

He got up on his knees right between Draken's thighs, fumbling with the zipper of Ken's jeans, fishing his cock out. "Mikey, stop. What are you doing?"

Mikey couldn't help himself, Draken was right there, legs spread, lap inviting, right for him to fit in between. Who could deny him something that was right in front of him, and not something slipping away from him in his dreams? He could just take, taste, he wants to, God he craves it.

He licks a stripe from the base of his dick to the tip, breathing heavily through his nose, - panting almost, - looking at Draken's mortified face through lidded eyes, under thick lashes. Draken cannot do anything but twitch helplessly in Mikey's hands and against his mouth, and he cannot even pretend he doesn't want this, even though he really doesn't. Mikey opens his mouth, sticks his tongue out obscenely, catching the drop of pre before it drips from the angry head, and he chases it hungrily with his mouth, wrapping his lips around the crown and bobbing his head like a starved man, sucking and hollowing his cheeks. He never sinks beyond those few inches, the fuckin tease, and he's even more of a slut than Draken remembers, fuckin droolin' on it, zero inhibitions, when he used to be so shy about wanting it, so prideful, never asking let alone beg for what he so desperately wanted.

Mikey mumbles around a mouthful of cock, his lips stretched impossibly wide just around the head, and Draken remembers now why this used to be one of his favourite sights. "Mmph, Ken-chin", Draken remembers how he used to say that around a mouthful of dorayaki instead, and how he would scold him about speaking with his mouth full. Draken's dick jumps in the other's mouth at finally hearing the nostalgic nickname.

Mikey pulls off, satisfied with the reaction, pumps him a few times, smiling, looking at him, challenging, before he lets a line of drool fall from his lips on Draken's cock, getting him wet with it. Draken gasps, involuntarily thrusting against nothing, seeking friction and Mikey smashes the weeping cock against his face, right against his cheek and lets him thrust against it, helps him rut on it by pushing his face against the thrusts, aiding with the slide, trying to nuzzle the gorgeous dick and become one with it. He wants to mark himself everywhere with it, getting himself sloppy and wet with fluids, saliva and pre 'ken-chin, ken-chin, ken-chin'.

"Thats it"- he drawls, "Rut against me. Make yourself feel good. Use my face just like that. C'mon Kenchin." He smirks when he feels the prick throb in his hands at the nickname. Draken feels like he's electrified every time that stupid little name falls off the other's lips. He's so embarrassing, his reactions giving away how much he's affected, even though he's verbally denied Mikey's advances like, twice so far.

"You like that, huh? Like it when I call you that. Bet it brings back memories, doesn't it? Does it take you back? To all the fun we used to have?" He said as he slapped Kenchin's twitching length against his face, and Draken's breath stutters.

"Fuckk it doesn't hit the same if it's not you doing it. I would rather if it was you doing this to me. Can I let you go? Do you promise to behave?" Mikey pleaded, eyes dark and hazy from lust.

"Get off of me Mikey. I don't want your hands anywhere near me." Draken tries to defy his own body one last time, his mind not consenting to the enthusiastic way his body responds to everything Mikey is doing.

Mikey hums and puts him back in his mouth, clearly expecting that answer, and prepared to completely ignore it. He swirls his tongue around the head, making a show of his wide open mouth, his wet tongue switching between lapping and kitten licking. He finally takes it all in his mouth in one go, all the way to the back of his throat and holds himself there, until he triggers his own gag reflex, and tears start to form in his eyes.

"Fuck, you slut" Draken swears loudly. Mikey comes up slowly, making puppy eyes out of his tear-filled expression, knowing exactly which buttons to press to set the other off. Knows Draken loves it when he cries with a cock in his mouth or his ass. Sometimes Mikey would fake his tears, spur himself on when he felt the telltale signs of them so that they turned into full on sobs, sniffling about how it's all too much, just because he loved how Kenchin got when he did.

"Bet you want to help me choke on it? Hold me down while I gag? Just like you used to. Grab my hair tightly and set the pace. I will let you if you promise to be good. I'll even let you fuck my face. You know I used to make a fuss whenever you wanted to do that. Always complaining about my gag reflex. I've gotten better. I've had a lot of practice. I can take you down my throat now. Well, I'll still cry and choke and gag, but I can take it. I'll be such a good boy for you, stay still and let you use me, make you proud. Mmm, what do you say? Will you show me a good time if I let you go?"

Draken forces through his teeth threateningly: 'Untie me and I'll show you a good time alright'

"I can make it good for you, I promise. How long's it been since you got your dick wet? Bet I can make you cum in seconds. What do you say, Ken-chin? Look at me begging for you here, you used to love it when I begged so sweetly didn't you?"

Draken had his eyes squeezed shut, disbelieving and wondering if Mikey even hears the words coming out of his mouth. He pretends to be deep in thought as if actually considering it, before he sighs and says, letting Mikey think he's won: "Whatever, let's just get this over with."

So Mikey unbinds him, not expecting the way Draken immediately lunges at him once he does. He's grabbed by the throat, pushed back and slammed painfully hard against the wall. "You fuckin bastard I'll fuckin kill you, I swear to God I will." Draken roars, face inches away from Mikey's own, fist raised as if ready to punch him and he will, Mikey's face just looks so punchable right now. Draken wants to hurt him so bad, he wants to give it all back, all the bitterness and hurt and unfairness he felt all these years because of this, this pathetic little thing in his arms that he wants to crush between his fingers, squeeze and drain the life out of, just like he did to him.

All those questions and whys he kept himself up asking only to be met with silence, the anguish, the longing and yearning for something he once had and lost forever. And now? Coming back into his life just to pull this stupid shit, this person who once meant everything to him, who carved a space for himself so deep into his psyche that his own happiness will always depend and be intertwined with that of Mikey's own, he pulls up after all these years and offers nothing, not an explanation, not even an excuse for why he abandoned him, why he was not important enough, worthy enough to keep by his side. He wants to know whether it was all a lie, because there was a time he also felt like he was Mikey's number one just as he was to him. That he was loved as much as he loved. That the way he knew and loved Manjiro from inside out was reciprocated.

But this just confirms everything, he means nothing to him, the time they spent together meant nothing to him, and he only came back because he missed his dick and wants to get it one more time, probably gets some sick satisfaction from seeing his former vice captain submit to him again, maybe he gets off on the power he holds over him. Mikey didn't want to see him, he didn't care about him as a person, he just.. wanted to get dicked down by him, for fuck's sakes. What kind of assfuckery is this? Draken is seething, because how dare he show his face in front of him for this? He will punch him, he will do it, now, anytime now. Do it. But he can't.

He just can't. Mikey doesn't make any moves, to either avoid it or move Kenchin off of him, he just waits patiently for the fist to connect with his face, if it will. Draken lets go of his throat, fingers trembling, emotional turmoil showing on his face, in the scrunch of his eyebrows, the clenching of his jaw, the gritting of his teeth. His eyes tell of the agony he feels, and he sinks to his knees and screams "FUUCK", "FUUCK" to no-one in particular. He hangs his head forward, closes his eyes and bangs his fists against the ground instead. Mikey gives him a moment, lets him get all that frustration out of him. If he feels anything at the sight of the tormented man before him, at being the cause of it, he doesn't let it show. He's not here to comfort him after all. He's here to get what he wants and walk right back out of his life.

He gets impatient after a while. He crouches down again and with a finger on his chest he pushes him back to lay down, straddling him once again and positioning his bony ass right against Kenchin's neglected erection, grinding against him.

"You know. It's true Kenny, no one can fuck me as good as you did."

"You were the best I ever had, you're so ideal for me. So perfect. I wish I could just keep you here as my personal fucking machine. Ah, this is so good. I'll make sure to enjoy this to the fullest."

"So big and strong." He said dreamily as he run his fingers down his biceps, across his chest, down to his abs. Draken's breath gets stuck in his throat. "You're exactly the same."

"But, you're not" Draken deadpans. Mikey's hands faltered, twitching against his skin, pausing momentarily before continuing their journey down Ken-chin's body, reaching his member and cupping around him.

"I don't recognise you, Mikey"

shutupshutupshutup. He tried to tune out Kenchin's voice, he really did, but that voice, those words, they sound too much like the voices he hears at night which he tries to drown out with sleeping pills and cocaine, oftentimes unsuccessfully. He's here to escape from that, not for his wounds to be pressed and prodded at.

"What happened to you Mikey?"

Why? Why can't you just shut up and let me enjoy this?

"I, I don't.. I can't even look at you" Mikey feels his non-existent heart shatter into a million pieces, as if a hundred knives entered his soul and kept twisting cruelly, not from you not from you not from you

-I have no interest in this shell you've become." He kept going, with that judging, patronising, accusing voice. Who does he think he is? Who is he to criticise him?

Why can't you look at me the way you used to?

He grabs a fistful of hair brutally tight, craning his head back, reaching for his gun and placing it roughly under his chin. Draken swallows, shell-shocked, mouth dry.

"I'm done playing nice. I don't know what about this gave you the impression that you get a say in what goes down tonight. But you need to shut up, you're here for one thing and one thing only. Don't think I'll hesitate to blow your brains out if you test me too much. Don't be mistaken. We're not here to catch up over coffee, you hear me? You're just a piece of meat to me."

"Nghh" Draken tries to swallow, but the uncomfortable angle his head was being held at made it hard to. "W- what makes you think I would go along with you? You can't force me to fuck you, what are you stupid? Those drugs leave any braincells in that head of yours?"

Mikey whacks him with the gun, hard. Draken's head whips to the side from the impact.

He jerks his head back to stare him right back in the eyes, unafraid. "How pathetic can you get that you have to force someone to fuck you at gunpoint? All these dudes give it to you on the daily and it's still not enough for you? Stupid whore. Can't believe you'd fall this low."

Another strike, all of Mikey's strength behind it. "I despise you." He spits, venomous.

Draken chuckles, hanging his head low, spitting blood on the ground.

Mikey gathers himself to say: "Didn't think you had it in you to refuse me anything, let alone speak to me that way. I must say I'm impressed and extremely turned on. Keep that energy for when you're fuckin' me."

"As if I'd want Bonten's sloppy seconds. Bet you're so loose now, not the tight little cunt I once knew. I see no value in you." Draken bites, tension palpable in the air from their proximity and the way they're glaring daggers into each other's eyes. It's a battle now, of who can hurt the other worst, and who will cave in first.

"Fuck, you think insulting me like that will get to me or something, it just makes me hornier hon." It's a dangerous game. One they both silently agreed to play. "Fuck, I can just rut against your thigh and cum like that. It'll be enough for me for now. You remember, Kenchin? I always used to use you like that. And you would let me. You'd wake up to me rutting against your legs or your stomach, trying to get off. Or when I was feeling less selfish, I would wrap my lips around your cock, and tease you until you woke up. Really beyond me how you put up with me. But you always did, indulged me, always. It was always about my pleasure. You were perfect like that."

Ken props himself up on his elbows, grabbing Mikey's hips in a bruising grip, and thrusts hard against his clothed arse.

"Fuck, I'm aching for it" Manjiro gasps when he feels Ken's massive cock lodging between his cheeks and rutting there. His hole twitches.

"If you need it so bad, beg for it." Draken commands sultrily, grabbing whatever flesh he can find on those butt cheeks and kneading it harshly, digging his nails in and using that leverage to move him up and down his cock, driving Mikey crazy with the promise of getting that cock inside of him.

"If you want something, you ask for it nicely. I thought I taught you better than that, darling."

"C'mon Kenny, will you fuck me? Give it to me good, just like you used to?"

Mikey felt high, floaty, like he did the best weed or snorted the best cocaine before coming here, the feeling was akin to that, eyes dilated and pupils blown wide.

"Mmm," Draken hums, as if considering. He slips his hands inside Mikey's pants to squish his ass, -skin to skin contact making them both shudder, - before moving his finger to ghost over Mikey's tiny hole. He touches and prods around it, testing it.

"It's so loose down here, though. Nothing like the tight cunt I remember. What am I gonna do with it, huh? Can I even get off using it?" He said as he breached the tight ring of muscle dry, making Mikey suck in a breath and arch his back, wrapping clingy hands around Draken's neck, as if to anchor himself. He feels intoxicated, having Kenchin touch him like this, even if it's painful. He'll take anything, do anything. Draken pumps his finger in and out a few times, getting a feel of those walls, short, sharp, all-the-way-to-the-knuckle thrusts that leave Mikey breathless and hiccupy.

"So fuckin' tiny but your cunt is so greedy, isn't it, can take anything it's given."

Draken felt like a switch had been flipped inside him, turning most of his emotions off but the raw, primal need to give in to his desires. Once he did that, his mind went silent and his body felt as if on autopilot, taking charge and commanding.

He withdraws his fingers from Mikey's vice-tight cunt, grabs his chin, squishing his cheeks on either side with his fingers and switches their positions, slamming him on the ground, getting on top. He hovers over him, crowding him, pinning him down like a trapped animal. Mikey tries to lift up off the ground and Draken slaps him hard before he can, sending him right back down, head connecting to the cold, hard concrete from the force of it, and it sounds painful, it looks painful, bruise starting to form against his cheek from the impact. The little freak just gasps: "Hurts so good." It makes Ken see red.

"You like being smacked around like this? Huh? Whore." Glob of spit against his face.

"Yes, yes, Ken-chin. Don't you hold back now. I'm your whore. Hurt me, hurt me please. Hurt me good, just like you used to."

Draken caresses his cheek before saying: "Say, Kenchin. I need you to hit me because I'm a pain slut who dreams of you fuckin me up on the daily."

He doesn't really want to hear the words, just says them to be mean, as he slaps him on the other cheek, giving him a bruise to match the other one. He kisses the forming bruises, misleadingly soothing, but also incredibly self-indulgent. Truth is, Draken could never hurt Mikey during sex in the beginning. Mikey was always on the small side, he felt like one wrong move and he could easily break him. Mikey always had to ask for it and bring it out of him, manipulate him into hurting him: 'I know that's how you like to fuck me. You're an animal, Ken-chin', he used to say when he got his way, only to cry a bit later: 'Kenchin your cock is breaking me.' Which only earned him harsher thrusts or a spiteful remark "You asked for it." "Stop whining like a fuckin' whore" or "Just shut up and take it"

There was always this conflicting need within Draken to be soft with him, take care of him, and make sure that he was out of harm's way, which contrasted wanting to fulfil Mikey's little masochistic streak.

"I used to treat you like a prince. You don't deserve that anymore. Now you're just a common whore. So expect to be treated like one. Okay, baby?" Fuck he was such a mess, sweet talking him while degrading him, remembering how 'baby' used to be Mikey's favourite pet name, even if he never admitted it, he just loved being babied, pampered and spoilt rotten.

"What's that, Kenchin? Did I turn your vanilla ass into a fuckin sadist? Getting off on hurting someone, that's low. I thought you just did it for me."

Draken chuckled, incredulous. "As if you don't know? That you ruined me, you ruined me for everyone else. Everything I am now, is because of you." He presses their foreheads together, and the air they breathe comes from each other's mouths. Every second they spend around each other is another memory, be it a painful one, a horny one, or a nostalgic one, they're all reminders of a place and time they cannot go back to.

It's all too much, staring into each other's eyes. Dead, pitiful eyes vs fiery, warm ones. Even after all this time they complement each other. One of them filling in for what the other lacks. Mikey's eyes dart down to Draken's lips and back to his eyes, and they blink closed, eyelashes fluttering, as if they can't stand they eye contact, and when they blink open again, there's a different hue to them, a silent plea, and Draken knows, he always knows, so he smashes their lips together, angry, biting from the get-go. He doesn't let him gain the upper hand, he doesn't even let him reciprocate or get into it, he sets the pace, taking, licking and biting, forcing his tongue deep inside, and Mikey's left trailing behind, trying to accommodate him and match his pace. Draken pulls back for air, cradling Mikey's cheeks.

"You are here to be my hole right? My personal little fuck hole? Isn't that right? You want to be my hole? That's the only thing you want to be to me, right? A warm little hole to fuck and ruin? Say it, if you can say it, then that's how I'm going to treat you tonight. Nothing more." He licks his face, purring as he scatters wet kisses along his jawline and down his neck, where he knows Mikey is incredibly sensitive, tempting him with something more, something sweet. It's the most affectionate he's been all night but Mikey doesn't take the bait. He doesn't want something more, or sweet. He wants to be treated like he's nothing, like he's no one. Like the trash he is, he wants to forget about his existence, drown himself in the bliss that comes from pain and pleasure entwined.

"I am your h- hole." He manages to wheeze out. "I want to be your hole." He gulps, hesitant and determined at the same time, forcing the words out. "The only thing I want to be to you is a warm little hole to fuck a-"

Draken watches with fascination as he struggles with the words. "And what else baby?"

"A -and ruin, a warm little hole to- to fuck and r-ruin." Getting those words out takes so much out of him, a wound to his pride, Draken catches him let a single stray tear drip down the side of his face. Draken's chest swells with an emotion he can't quite place. From the old days he used to feel so lucky to be allowed to see this side of Mikey, this raw vulnerability that he only exhibited in the bedroom, only for his eyes to see. The invincible Mikey, who doesn't show any weakness, permitting himself to get to a teary and wrecked state by his second in command, trusting Draken to reduce him to that state, trusting him to do with that vulnerability what he will. Draken felt like he owned the world by being given the power to bring such a person to their knees for him. That's how he will have him now, too.

"Good boy. On your knees now, then." Mikey scrambles to get in position, overwhelmed to be getting the attention he's been craving, from the person he's been longing for, for the past decade.

"Fuck, I get so hot for you ordering me around. Been dreaming of this for so long." Draken was towering above him, the image making Mikey lightheaded.

"Shut up, hole. Don't wanna hear you." Draken warns as he tugs his head back with a painful grip in his hair. Mikey craned his head back to stare at him from his position on the floor, knees scraping the ground, cock hard and aching, curved up on his stomach, neglected. Draken looked so majestic, so tall and big, muscles bulging, veiny arms clutching his hair, a really fine specimen of a man. Mikey was once jealous of him, not only was Draken excellent at taking care of him, he was also excellent at taking care of himself, always keeping himself healthy and fit. Having all the ladies (and sometimes men) lust after him, made Mikey so possessive of him, and he wanted to keep him all to himself.

At the age of twenty-seven Draken had aged like fine wine, like a nice ripe fruit, body refined, face full of hard edges, and suddenly Mikey felt so ashamed to be seen by him, all shrinky and small on the floor, skinny, ugly. He was aware of how great neglect of his mental and physical health has left nothing desirable to be seen and he wondered how Kenchin could even get it up for him in this state. He wanted to cower away and hide, suddenly very self-conscious about himself.

But Draken was more than hard for him. He held the base of his erection and brought it to Mikey's lips, head angry and red, leaking, asking for entrance, he bumped it twice against his lips and then pulled away, as if changing his mind at the last minute.

"Stick your tongue out" Mikey does and Draken uses his thumb and index finger to pinch Mikey's nose, obstructing his airway and he uses that grip to pull him forward towards his cock, spitting one thick glob of spit on the still outstretched tongue before shoving his cock into that mouth, all the way in. The added saliva makes the glide wet and easy and sloppy, the nose grip making it easy to set an easy pace, moving Mikey's head along his girthy cock which was now blocking his other airway, hitting the back of his throat. God, it felt so good when Mikey started gagging, throat convulsing, trying to expel the intrusion to get some needed air in. Still, he made no actual movement to withdraw, he just stayed there, choking and retching but still held Draken deep down his oesophagus.

"Hah, so fuckin good for me, aren't you. You'd stay here and suffocate if I let you." He growled as he roughly pushed him away, forcing him to get some air, -little brat probably wished he could die on Kenchin's cock- removing the fingers that were plugging his nose and watching him inhale long gulps of air. He used his hands to comb through Mikey's hair instead, getting a feel of the unfamiliar white strands, while also trying to comfort him, instinctual.

"You have such a good face to fuck, such a pretty mouth, looks so good when it's stuffed, always loved filling it to the brim." He murmured as he lifted his face by the chin, looking into his tear-stained, spitty, dumb face.

"That's it. Breathe for me, good boy." He didn't seem to realise he did it, the praise rolling off his tongue like second nature, his body and mind were really acting on autopilot now, re-enacting scenes that their bodies acted out countless times in the past.

When he regained his breath Mikey looks up at him, pleading "Ken-chin. Your cock. Need it. Need you."

Draken fed him his fingers instead, wanting to feel that tongue work around the digits, wanting to feel the inside of that hot, wet cavern, and make him choke on them. Wanted to see him full of him, be it his cock or his fingers. Mikey looked the best with something stretching his mouth wide, making for a crude sight, one he could never get enough of.

"Suck on my fingers. Just like that. You like that, don't you? Like having your mouth stuffed. You want more fingers?"

Mikey took a hold of Ken's wrist, trying to swallow them deeper, feeding himself full of Kenchin's hand, pulling off of the three Draken gave him, and sinking down on all five of them, greedy.

"How many? All of them? Your oral fixation knows no bounds." He didn't know anymore where his own oral fixation ended and Mikey's began.

"Look at your cheeks bulging around my entire hand, little cocksuckin' lips stretched to their limit. You are a sight, sweetheart' He pulled his fingers out and Mikey whimpered at the loss.

"Sh, sh, cock hungry baby."

"Turn around let me see that ass." Mikey did, getting on all fours, wiggling his ass seductively, urging Kenchin to touch. Kenchin does, he lands a heavy open-palmed smack against the wiggling flesh, making Mikey squeal and twist away.

"Shut up. Spread your cheeks. Show me that hole." Mikey does, exposing the red, puffy, used up little thing supposed to be his asshole.

"Fuck, how much do you whore yourself out? How many people have been in here, huh? How can I ruin you when it's already ruined baby?" He said as he spit in that hole letting it drip down his crack, and using his thumb to push it down, straight into the well-fucked, stretched open hole.

"You want to feel my cum dripping on you like this, right?"

"Fuck, yes Kenchin please, now please"

"Fuck, I knew you were a little freak since the first time I saw you. I'd seen enough whores under my own roof to know one when I see one." He said as he pushed his thumbs in that hole, stretching it into a gape, perversely wanting to peer into Mikey's insides.

"Little cocksucking lips wrapped around that lollipop, making a show of it. I could tell what a little praise slut you were, always showing off." He said as he started stroking himself, pumping furiously to the sight of Mikey's wide open hole, red and puffy from use.

"That you'd get off on the pain, need it hard just to feel it, and a huge pillow princess, demanding, needy, never sated. Bratty and pouty, batting your eyelashes to ask for some cock you know no one would resist giving you with that charm of yours." One hand was beating away at his meat and the other was holding Mikey open, exposed.

"You have no idea the things I wanted to do to you even back then, wanted you to submit to me, wanted to make you my bitch"

"Kenchin what are you doing? Why are you jerking off? Aren't you gonna fuck me?" Mikey's voice sounded distressed, high-pitched, thinking Draken was cruel enough to finish like this and leave him hanging.

Ken ignored him, not even looking up from his fixated gawking at Mikey's hole as he continued bubbling, as if in a trance: "But then, when I did achieve that, what did that get me? A lot more than I bargained for, that's for sure. Even when I had you under me, right in the palm of my hand crying for me, begging so sweetly, I never felt any weaker of a man, never felt like I had no control whatsoever, totally helpless to do whatever you want, to please you, to follow you to the depths of hell, if that's what you wanted."

"Kenchin!" Mikey kicked his cock lightly with his foot. "You gonna fuck me or what?"

Draken snapped out of it, finally directing his attention to him, removing his thumb from his hole. "Oh, I'm gonna do a lot more than fuck you, baby. I'm gonna give it to you so good and hard you're gonna be begging me to stop."

"Hah, big talk. You sure you can deliver? You better, Kenchin, you don't want me disappointed do you? What if I realise that fifteen year old me was just a horny teen and it wasn't you who was that great? Who knows what I'd do then? You know how hard my tantrums are to deal with. You should know best. You were the one witnessing and handling all of them. I've had a lot of sex by now you know. I'm not the inexperienced kid I once was, hanging off of your every word, your every touch. You're gonna have to try a lot harder to satisfy me now."

Draken backhands him hard across the face. "Fuckin cunt, I'm doing you a favour here, even giving you the time of day like this. Wasting my time on someone like you. A slut who gets off on the thought of being thrown around and humiliated and abused and passed around in a group, a fuckin' cocksleeve for anyone who wants to get a turn because they're too much of a coward to stay sober in their own head for more than ten seconds after having entirely fucked up their own lives by choosing to push everyone away instead of admitting their own weakness and asking the people who would die for them for help"

Draken didn't mean to snap on him, to make him feel even shittier than Mikey must already feel, but he was just so so fed up, and he just wanted to let all of these ugly emotions loose, and out of him. It was bound to happen, he would explode at some point, and he would unleash all the pent-up anger and blame on the person responsible for them.

"Stop crying." Mikey was sobbing, and it just made him angrier, because he didn't have the right to when he was the one causing pain to everyone, to himself, to the people that cared about him, by choosing this life, by punishing and neglecting himself and his own happiness. How could he ever expect Draken to be happy knowing that Mikey was alone, that he was suffering?

"I said stop fuckin crying" he demanded. Mikey sniffled and blubbered, and damn him for having such a fuckable crying face, all snotty and wet.

"You want my cock? Huh? You want this cock? Is that what it takes for you to stop crying?" He says as he unexpectedly fucks in, harsh, no preparation, no warning whatsoever. He thrusts wildly, punishingly for a minute, hands around Mikey's throat for leverage, trying to choke out those ugly sobs. Then he pulls out, just as roughly, slapping Mikey's thigh.

"I can't stand to look at your dumb face." Mikey's eyes were puffy and swollen from the crying already, eyelashes clamping from the tears, sight blurry.

"Turn around. You're just another whore to me, don't wanna look into your dead eyes. You're less than a whore, I wouldn't even treat the girls at the parlour like this. Im actually insulting them, since they do it as a profession. But you're just a slut. You take cock for free, from anyone willing to give it to you. What would your brother think if he saw you? You should be ashamed." He manhandles Mikey, who's like a lifeless little doll in his hands, going easily with how Draken positions him.

He enters him again from behind.

"Is this what you wanted? Being fucked like a cheap whore. On some goddamn basement floor. Is that what you deserve, Mikey?" He fucks like an animal, holding Mikey's hips, a dog fuckin a bitch in heat, but he's not satisfied; he grabs him by the nape, pushing his upper half against the floor so he can mount him properly, bitch him properly, proper arch in his back, and properly presenting his ass.

Draken marvelled at how easily his hole gave, how it wrapped around his cock like a vice, sucking him in, and letting him pull out just as easily. "You used to have such a hard time takin' me. You were so fussy about it, starting to cry as soon as I got a few inches in you, I'd have to comfort you and praise you every five seconds. You were like a fuckin baby." He chuckled, reminiscing.

"We'd keep using lube and going so slow. I was so nice to you. Now some spit is all it takes and you're good to go. I guess its true you've been fucked a lot. You are fucked open, bet it takes days for you to tighten back up again with how much cock you take on the daily. Is that why you always crave it, because when the dicks come out of you, your hole feels so empty and wrong 'cause its just so used to being plugged up and full. You're such a handful for everyone around you. How do they handle you? I sure as hell did have a hard time."

Draken fucks him so hard and fast from behind he cannot see the fat tears rolling down his cheeks but he can hear the pathetic sobs punched out of him with each brutal thrust. He slaps a hand against his face, wanting to silence him "shut up and take it. Dont wanna hear your voice. Dont remind me who I'm fuckin, like this I could almost feel like it's the old you", sobs turn into muffled whimpers, and he puts his fingers in that mouth with the intent to fuck it, "thats it, cry for me. Feel it all, all the hurt"

"This is how you always cried, always needed dick in you to shut up, only then did I get to enjoy this sight. Like this you're just a little bitch, taking my cock like a good boy, no longer able to act like you own the place. You knew you held no power when you were under me, you would just take what I give you. I thought something had changed but you're just the same little boy once someone gets their cock in you."

Mikey's body rubbed back and forth against the unforgiving concrete, surely to leave more marks along his torso, bruises and scratches from the rubble, the friction scratching his skin raw. Draken was lightheaded, aroused and appalled with how Mikey took to being treated like this, Mikey's once-upon-a time self would surely cry and cringe seeing them now like this. Two broken boys, damaged beyond repair.

"Feels like I'm fuckin a child. Like you'll break in my hands. Have you even grown an inch since you were twelve? You're just skin and bones. Can you even take this? It hurts doesn't it?"

By the sounds he was making it sounded to be purely painful for him. Draken pitied him.

"You can't take it, honey? You can't take it, can you?" He cooed.

Mikey shakes his head, face flushed and wet, sloppy, unable to form words.

"If you can't take it why don't you say something. Tell me to slow down or something. Not everything has to be painful Mikey. Why don't you get that?"

"T- the pain is the only time I- I feel something. Truly feel something. I need it, Kenchin. N- need it to feel alive."

Draken fucks him like he hates him and Mikey remembers all the times he made love to him, he lets his subconscious go back to that time, shuts his eyes and pretends they are fifteen again, and Kenchin is there, like he always is, catering to him, spoiling him, giving in to all of his absurd demands. Kenchin always read him so well, and he knew when Mikey got too much in his head, and he took control from him, he always knew what he needed, just from body language, Mikey didn't even have to communicate anything, Kenchin knew him inside out.

Draken slaps him again, followed by two globs of spit on the face, effectively bringing him back. Mikey doesn't even react, face expressionless. Draken moves his hand to touch and grope around his tits, pinching a nipple cruelly, and Mikey jolts in his arms, as if he's been shocked, hole clamping tight around him, clenching wildly. Draken remembers.

"You don't react to being slapped but you react to a gentle touch on your nipple. You're unbelievable." He smirks, teasing.

"You're still so sensitive here" Draken slows down his hips, fuckin' him slower, deciding to fuck with his head instead. He gives lazy, deep, powerful thrusts that feel like they reach all the way to his heart, punching through all those organs to pound hard against his ribcage.

"Do you remember? Sometimes when we were tired, I would just lazily touch your nipples until you were trembling in my hands."

"Kenchin, no" Mikey tries to twist around to glare at him but a reprimanding thrust from Draken has him clambering forward. Draken's groping hands never leave his chest.

"And then you would whine, like you always do when you're close." Another pinch, another whine.

"Don't." Mikey moves his hands in an attempt to stop the assault on his nipples, but Draken grabs both his wrists in one hand, pinning them above his head, and crushes him with his weight, chest-to-back, so that he has nowhere to go to escape him. It has Mikey arching away from the assault on his nipples and right back onto his cock. The sight they make must be obscene.

"You'd get so childish, like a baby, saying that stupid nickname you know I can't say no to 'Ken-chin I wanna cum' and I would laugh meanly, incredulously because who the hell is able to cum just by having their nipples played with."

A harsh tug now on his left nipple leaves him gasping, while the other one is repeatedly rubbed by a calloused thumb.

'Kenchin, stop I- I think I'm gonna' his whole body convulses, teetering dangerously close to the edge.

"Sh, sh, sh, baby, it's alright. You're alright. It's good to be sensitive like this. To let yourself feel."

"Kenchin don't be cruel, hurts" Mikey whines, a copious amount of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"You were always sensitive like that, when you feel, you feel in multitudes. I guess that's why you needed to shut down, isn't that right. No one can handle such strong emotions weighing down on them."

He pulls on both nipples at the same time, giving a harsh thrust against his prostate at the same time.

'Hey, hey, easy, babyboy. You're gonna make me come at this point, with how much you're squeezing me. Let me finish what I was saying.' He kisses his temple, smiling against the tears streaming down the other's cheeks.

"I would have so much fun teasing you, watching you squirm, when you'd said that you wanted to cum, I would slow my movements, just the barest hint of a touch, feathery above your nipples, and you would gasp open-mouthed, close but unable to be tipped over the edge. You'd shut your eyes tight, and suck your lip between your teeth, and I'd look at you, watch it all, take it in as if it's the last time I would do so, and I would swear that image would be engraved in my head every time I close my eyes; watching you come apart was a religious experience to me."

"I would continue like that just teasing your nipples with feathery touches until your mouth twisted in an 'o' shape, silent gasp on your lips and you would be so good, looking like you're on cloud nine, like you escaped to another dimension, and just knowing that I put that expression on your face, that I was the one making you see stars, I always felt greedy, possessive. You never asked for more, content with what I was giving you and just because of that, because you lay there like such a good boy, hanging off of every touch, I would show mercy, in one movement I would pinch and twist your nipple harshly and watch your hips jump and your cock spurt generously."

He did just that, here, now, knowing exactly the kind of reaction he would elicit from the boy, the mental image of their younger selves and the exact reenactment of those memories drawing a mind-numbing orgasm out of the trembling man beneath him. Draken keeps touching him through the aftershocks, watching him, enraptured.

'Cute' the praise slips from Draken's mouth. Truth is, he knows Mikey is thirsty for it, for the praise, for being babied and taken care of just like Draken used to treat him. This is what he lacks, what he misses, what he came here looking for. Even if he would never admit it, never ask or beg for it. It's his one and only chance to relive those days, to get scraps of the kind of attention he used to get. Doting and tender.

Draken's been teasing him with it, giving him snippets of what it used to be being loved by him, makes him feel as if it's within his grasp only to snatch it away at the last minute. Whenever he gets a little bit more intimate and affectionate he takes it away by coming back harsher and cruel. He wants to drive him crazy with it. With what he could have but does not allow himself to. What he's convinced himself he doesn't deserve. He's convinced himself that he's satisfied with the nameless, brutal sex he's been having, the worse the better. That he's okay, content with the bruises, the marks, the violence, the pain, he wants it all. He conditioned himself to think that but what would really break him is if someone touched him with a gentle hand, a caring one.

"So fuckin' cute" he can't help but coo at Mikey's blissed- out face, his little cock twitching, and his body trembling in pleasure that he made him feel.

"Open your mouth for me baby, that's right, good boy." He purses his lips, gathers spit to the front of his mouth and lets it drip messily from his lips to Manjiro's open mouth. It's intimate, rewarding, not like all the other times he spit on him tonight, mean and humiliating and angry, coming from the back of his throat. Mikey's eyes are dazed, disoriented from the proximity and almost sweet gesture. Draken grabs his chin and closes it.

'Swallow' Manjiro complies and Draken twitches in Mikey's hole. He gathers another glob of spit and directs it messily on Mikey's cheek, this one meant to degrade him, dirtying him, marking him with his fluids. He wants him dripping with it, this man he wants to own, claim again and again. He spits again dead centre on the face, uncaring of where it lands and uses his hand to spread it around, getting him properly wet, mixed with his own drool and tears. Mikey whimpers and clenches around him, he looks fucked stupid. He tells him so. "Stupid whore. Thats all it takes to turn you cock dumb"

"It's okay baby I got you. I know whores like you need this. Need the pain to turn off and forget everything. You still like being praised?"

"Or now that you turned into Bonten's whore is it too much for you? You let them tag team you? Spit roast you? Do you like feeling full from both sides? How does this frail body take it? Answer me, whore. You aren't a good boy anymore. You are a whore, Mikey. You have them fuck you two at a time don't you. But no-one can give it to you like I do. That's why you came back. The only thing you can't let go of is my cock."

"Are you jealous or something Kenchin? Is that what it is?" Mikey croaked out.

Draken ignored him, "And let me tell you something, ever since you left my life. I've been free. And I do get my dick wet and Inui is such a better boy than you have ever been, than you could ever be. He makes me happy. He's healthy, none of that toxic shit you bring along with you."

"Hah. I guess you always did that, Ken-chin. You never realise that your words may cut deeper than you think."

Draken fucks him like he's trying to stake a claim, filling the room with the squelching, embarrassing noises of Mikey's hole being fucked merciless and unforgiving.

"You're so fuckin ugly. Seriously. Turn around, get on your back, look at me so that I can be reminded of what an ugly thing I'm fuckin. So fuckin ugly. Whats up with this, this dead hair, it's so fuckin ugly, doesn't suit you at all, ugly to the touch, ugly to the eyes. And this ugly tattoo, and this ugly, dying body, where's my Mikey, huh? Where's my good boy, my baby slut??"

Mikey whimpers, tears lining his eyes again. Draken has him on his back again, looking him dead in the eyes.

"You still like being called baby?"

If he really tries to just zero in on his eyes, and resist taking in the whole picture that makes Mikey, maybe, just maybe, he can locate a trace of the old Mikey. He can still find him, somewhere in there; but if he zooms out even a tiny bit, he cannot bear it. It hurts seeing Mikey like this, he cannot accept it, so that hurt translates into hate and anger and bitterness and he just wants to hurt this miserable, pathetic, damned thing in front of him who took his life and turned it upside down.

Truth is, Mikey's beauty is still there, present. Under all the weariness, Mikey's lips are still soft and small, bitten a beautiful colour of pinkish-red, his cheeks flush rosy just like they used to, and when his lashes flutter they still fan over his cheeks in their long and full glory, and his thin, pointed nose lifts just the same with the pride and charm of being Manjiro Sano.

Even in his lowest he's just so majestic, in whatever shape or form, lean-muscled or starved-thin, insomniac eyes or bright, powerful ones, heroin-injected, battered arms, and short hair vs long hair, black or white or blonde, Mikey is Mikey and Mikey is a beautiful human being who was dealt a rough hand even though he deserves the entire world. Draken is once again met with that undeniable truth.

"Yeah, baby, you feel so good. Still feel so good. You always feel good."

Draken's giving it to Mikey so good, Mikey cannot take it anymore. He already came once and his dick is overstimulated, that bundle of nerves inside him rubbed raw. Damn Kenchin's incredible stamina, he thinks.

"Slow down, slow down Kenchin, I can't, anggh'

Draken shushes him as he fucks him harder knowing exactly that's what Mikey wants.

'Kenchin, please, stop' and Ken does, he takes it slow, dragging his length in and out in a torturously slow pace that somehow feels even worse. "See baby? I've got you. I've slowed down. See? See the way you take it. The way your greedy hole clamps on my cock? How can I hold back?"

"See for yourself how good you look taking cock. C'mon, sit up." He helps him sit up, folding him almost in half.

"Thats right. Look at my cock fuckin in and out. You like it baby? The way your cunt clenches? Aren't you embarrassed?"

Mikey whines embarrassingly, watching entranced where the two are connected. He takes his own thumb into his mouth, suckling on it, needy and comforting. Draken recognises the act as something he used to do to comfort himself, and that single image makes Draken see red, throbbing in Mikey's hole.

"When I said I'll fuck you so hard you'll beg me to stop, I meant it" he says as he lays him back down, fucking in a renewed frenzy, straight into Mikey's abused walls.

"Take it baby, take it for me"

"Acknowledge who's fuckin you. Who's giving it to you good. Whose cock is making you drool and making your head all empty and floaty. Hm, baby?"

"Yours, Kenchin, yours, yours, yours"

"You want to make me cum baby? huh?, where do you want it? Tell me now, don't be shy"

"Want it everywhere. In my ass, and in my mouth and my face, want to be dripping with it."

"Fuck, fuck, you little minx, come on, I'll come on your face" he pulled out and straddled Mikey's face while he lay down, Mikey was too spent to even move up. Draken would just take his pleasure. He pushed into Mikey's mouth, bulging his cheek and fucking against it furiously, he didn't even need to fuck his throat, the mental image of coming all over Mikey's face was enough to drive him.

"Fuck, you never let me come on your face before, you're a proper whore now, huh. Can't believe these people have bitched you. Are you sure you are their leader, I would say you're more like Bonten's cum-dumpster, uhhh, shiit, I'm cumming", he groaned, pulling out to place his cock against Mikey's forehead making sure his cum would land and drip all over his face, thick, gooey stripes dripping everywhere, down his lashes, his cheeks, his nose, on his lips.

His orgasm was so intense, probably the best he had in twelve years. When he recovered from the aftershocks, he already felt guilt-ridden. He slouched down and kissed and sucked all of the cum off Mikey's face, gently, adoring, feeding it to him in a slow, electrifying kiss. Mikey reciprocated hungrily, slurping all of Draken's cum off his tongue, eating it right up.

When they pulled away, Draken felt the need to apologise.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't" Mikey rushed to say. He was smiling, a genuine, sweet smile, that made him look a lot younger even though it looked a bit out of place on his face. He looked happy, and he felt like he wouldn't mind dying in this moment.

Draken felt the need to cry for the first time that night.

"Mikey, I'm sorry." He repeated.

"Kenchin"

"Mmm"

"Kenchin"

"Yes"

"Kenchin"

"Mikey"

"It's nothing, I just want to say it as many times as I can now that you're here to actually listen to it."

"Mikey-"

"You know I love you, right" he cuts him off, urgent, as he caresses his cheeks, kisses his forehead, indulgent. He doesn't have long, anyway. It's okay to allow himself this.

Draken knows, of course he does.

"Life is so glorified, don't you think?" Mikey whispers, an indecipherable look on his face.

"Maybe we should start putting our hopes in the afterlife, you know? Some kind of heaven, where our loved ones are, where we can see them again, maybe enjoy eternity with them."

"You think Shinichiro-kun would be happy to hear you say that? Emma. Baji. Don't you at least think of them? Forget about us. The living people that still care about you. We are already dead to you. But your brother would've hated seeing you like this. Doesn't it make you sad thinking about it? Please take better care of yourself. For them."

"I'm doing this for them. So that I can go see them a bit earlier." He said, that sad smile on his face making Draken's chest tighten in inexplicable, unimaginable sadness.

The worst thing is that he gets it. He fuckin gets it. He starts sobbing, ugly crying and Mikey actually takes him into his arms, comforts him. He's crying and Mikey is holding him, so he lets himself break down and cry more. What's the point in holding it together? In this moment Mikey feels like security, safety, it is the Mikey he knows and loves, the one person he would trust with his life.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because when he wakes up, he's at the back of an expensive car being driven home, at D&D motors, where Inui is probably worried sick and Mikey is nowhere to be found and Draken is left wondering if that was the last time he ever gets to see him. Tears start falling again. 

13448 words °^°