Because He Cries

Because He Cries

Damn. He has locked himself in the bedroom again. In the closet, more than likely. He has always found that cramped room to be some sort of sanctuary. Why, I have no clue. He will probably remain there for another hour...or long enough to stop that cursed crying.

Such a shame, it is, him being such a beautiful person. Beautiful people should not cry.

Pressing my ear to the door, I hear him sniffling pitifully, yet I wonder why I remain in the hallway. I was a tomb robber once; I could easily pick the lock. Better yet, I am a spirit now...I could "appear" in the room...maybe upon the bed next to my weeping angel. Surprise has always been a favorite element of mine.

Yet, I remain on the outside, looking at that wooden annoyance that separate me from happiness. Why? Because I caused the little one to cry in the first place.

I cannot comprehend his actions. Why does he dress and act so cute and adorable if he would not be willing to accept my advances? Yes, I find cuteness to be very sexy indeed. His angelic face, soft white hair, pale, delicate skin unblemished like the sands of Egypt. Ra, just thinking about it makes me want him all the better. There is nothing restraining me from getting inside that room to him, claiming the frail child as my own. But there is one barrier to be met. Cursed tears.

Oh, little Bakura, please stop crying. It burns my very soul to hear you suffer. Did I not promise to make you feel little pain? Yes, I might have been fancy to torturing others, but you, I strive to protect. I could not help falling in love with you since that day you received the Millennium Ring.

Those years were long and torturous for me, but you, little Bakura, were the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Make the torture go away and submit yourself to my love!

I remember the first time I made my attempt upon you, just like it was yesterday. It might have been, I really have no clue. Time passes differently when you are not of the mortal world.

I followed you into the bathroom, silently and carefully, so as to not interrupt your lovely humming of some unfamiliar tune. Your voice has a special magic about it, and I found myself watching with great anticipation as you disrobed and stepped into the shower. Could you blame me for appearing in time to watch the water slither down your naked body?

Ra, it burns my loins just thinking about it again.

I placed my arms around you, giving you quite a startle. My light kisses on your neck could have been the reason...or the slight rubbing of my groin against your lower back. I think it was definitely the rubbing, now that I look back on it. Either way, you gave a small whimper and jerked away from my harmless embrace, scraping your leg against the faucet.

We both stood in silence, save the noise of pouring water upon our bodies. As if we were a human mirror, we looked down in unison to see the drain sucking down the red liquid from your leg. You then sank down and cried, partially from fear and pain.

I did not know what to do! I had caused my angel pain, and it tore my very soul to see the tears falling from his face. I was in a very awkward situation, me being incredibly wanting of you, and you, little Bakura, crying like a little child who had injured himself for the first time. Some strange instinct took over me then.

I carried you to the sink and wrapped your body in a fluffy towel. It was royal purple and made of Egyptian cotton, your favorite. Your cries became whimpers as I inspected the backside of your leg. Just a tiny scratch, thankfully. Instincts must wear off easily, because I found myself licking the blood from your wound, my eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy of your forbidden taste.

And then, I found myself sprawled upon the floor. You had pushed me and ran, ran for that room you call safety.

I find myself ashamed to admit it, but I sensed great fear in you that day, and I loved it. That is what brings us back to the hallway, the locked door, and the incredible yearning. I made you cry today, not really sure how. I suppose backing you into a corner in the kitchen and kissing those sweet, sweet lips could explain it.

I do find myself to be a patient being, but the pain now throbbing in my lower regions has left me no choice. Crying or not, little Bakura, you had better be ready for the intrusion, because I need...no, must have you for myself.

I am now in the room, using that useful spirit tactic of appearing where one needs to be. You are easily found, sitting cross-legged upon the bed, your arms wrapped around a pillow as if it was a shield of metal. Silly little Bakura. You look so adorable and childlike right now. If you do not mind, I will be taking this pillow...

Shield broken, you stare at me with those large, beautiful eyes. I know that stare. It is one of fear. You have already realized my intentions, and I am filled once more with the mysterious feeling mixed with want.

Your father is away, so you remain quiet. Screaming would only be a waste of time, but to be on the safe side, I caress your cheek and my lips lock with yours. You struggle a bit, muffling words of discouragement to me, but I only find that to be something of a turn-on as I kiss your delicious lips more aggressively.

I lower your body into the bedding so that you are lying down, and I straddle you, ending my kiss. I smile, seeing no tears upon your face. That is the signal I was waiting for. A tearless face is that of beauty, little Bakura. Did you finally catch on to that?

Yes, you do twist and turn about beneath my weight, which rubs against my groin and makes me moan in pleasure. Damn, these jeans, they make me ache in ways I cannot describe. But first, your clothes are my main interest. They are hiding your beautiful form from me.

With a little slip and a toss, your shirt becomes a ragged pile on the floor. I gaze at your naked torso, licking my lips hungrily. You are that of an angel, little one. So precious.

I want to nibble a bit, but I did promise not to cause any pain. Light kisses are instead trailed down your smooth stomach, even further down. You suddenly stiffen your body as I unbutton your pants. You should not be scared, for I want to give you pleasure, too.

A soft laughter escapes my mouth as you watch on, eyes wide as saucers, to see my hand travel into your pants. I stroke your member, hoping you would relax a bit, but you only tense up further.

"...No, please don't...please...," I hear you whisper, your eyes welling up. You are about to cry, much to my dissatisfaction, but I have no wanting to stop. I came this far and I plan to take that which I have desired for so long.

I hear a gasp as I remove my own clothing, giving another laugh. Your eyes fixed to my manhood, which was fully erected. Never seen a penis other than your own, apparently, and the size difference was great.

You do manage to pull yourself up and attempt a daring escape. You do have some strength in that petit form, but I am abl man manhandle you back down. You choke back a sob, but it is no use...I lose total control of my actions and bite you on the shoulder harshly, relishing in the scream that follows. I am very sorry, angel, I did not mean to hurt you...yet, somewhere deep down, I find myself enjoying it. I want to investigate this new feeling further.

I give my index finger a lick, moistening it before plunging it in the small hole between your buttocks. The sudden force causes you to cry out once more and struggle for an escape route, but I pin your hands above your head with my free hand. I smile, slowly moving my finger in and out. Ra, you feel so tight. I add another finger, trying my best to prepare you quickly. The need for release is great in me.

Something inside me yelled for me to stop what I was doing as I gazed at your tear-stained face, but another feeling poured over me. I grinned; I was enjoying myself and enjoying the wave of pain and fear that was written about your angelic face. I took my fingers from you and positioned myself for insertion.

Yes, I promised a pain-free experience, but that promise has been shattered as I force myself into your virgin body, growling seductively. But my pleasure could not be heard for the screaming form of you underneath me. I was hurting you, tearing you. And I was loving every second of it.
I thrust myself repeatedly, leaning down to capture your lips once more. My tongue dances in your mouth, once again muffling what would be shrieking and crying. I no longer care. My tongue dances about your face, and I taste your tears. For the first time, I am not appalled by them, but rather disturbingly finding them to be as delicious as the finest wine.

I yell out myself, feeling the approaching climax of my orgasm. My little angel's shaking body becomes filled with my seed as I collapse onto you, breathing heavily. You have now been made mine, little Bakura. Mine forever.

I look down to you. Your crying has subsided somewhat, save the tears that still fall down your reddened cheeks. Eyes closed, your face is turned away. Perhaps you are too scared to look me in the eye again for fear of a repeated scenario much like what just took place.

You struggle to speak. "You...ra...raped me," the words come to you in short, ragged breaths between sobs.

I only smile at your naivety, pulling myself out of you and taking a moment to observe the blood that coated your lower half and my own with great interest. You flinch at the pain as I pick you up and place your frail, broken body into my lap. I stroke your sweat-laced hair and held you in an embrace. You only sob softly, but lay against my chest as if it gave you some sort of comfort from this seemingly evil nightmare.

"No," I finally speak, "I only showed you my love. You will always be mine now."

You cry aloud once more, the realization coming into play. Giving up on all hope, you bury your face into my neck as your shoulders shake with your pitiful crying.

~~~~~~~~~~


Yes, I know it is wrong to force love upon someone who does not return the same affection. But, be as it may, I could never imagine my sweet Bakura with anyone else. I deserve him; I waited countless years for someone to release me from my personal Hell, and it so happens Fate chose him to be mine. There is no way around it, and that is the way it is going to be.

I hear him in the bathroom now, perhaps cleaning his wounds. He realizes that, yes, there will be a next time, and a time after that, and a time after that. Despite how he feels, he knows I love him.

And I love him for only one reason.
Because he cries.


The End