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A/N
Don’t read this.
This stuff is complete poison. It’s gonna feel really good when you read it because I’m a really good porn author and I’m absolutely fantastic at finding the right words to put together to give you that lovely full-body thrill of lust you’re looking for. Just like a drug high. And just like a drug it’s addictive and destructive and toxic. If you have any inkling of curiosity about how your life could be better without this porn drug of shipping couples and finding porn to satisfy that itch, get out of here and start purging your life of it.
I’m not taking it down because maybe, if you read this and think what I would have thought when I wrote it, that I’m some fanatical prude trying to suppress your good and natural sexuality, you’ll come back for another drug hit. And another one. And every time you do you’ll see this little note and you’ll get one more chance to escape.
This stuff ruined my life. I look back on it with nothing but regret. I got out and I’m living the good life, without porn, without spending hours a day seeking out that drug hit I used to get from reading and writing all this, and it’s a better world than the one you’re in right now. But everything I read and saw and sought out in pursuit of that gratification has left its marks on me. If I could go back in time, I’d save myself from it.
If you do read this, if you have read this, if I’ve ever encouraged you deeper into that trap, I am truly sorry. I regret it. I owe you much more than an apology, but that’s all I have the power to offer. I hope that you can escape one day.
“You know I’ll take care of you, my darling.” Dio curls his hand around Kakyoin’s head and draws it closer to the bare expanse of what is rightfully Jonathan’s chest. “My precious one, my pet, my pretty little thing.”
Fever-dazed, Kakyoin shuts his eyes and dreams of small things. He dreams of sunlight on a patch of wild berries, of his mother combing her hair and singing quietly after she thought he had fallen asleep. He wishes that he had taken more time to love them when he had them.
Dio indicates the lavender stripes of Kakyoin’s pajamas. “Do you like these, my darling? I had them brought just for you. I thought they might give you some comfort.” He pets Kakyoin’s cheek softly. “I can send for better if you prefer. Linen, silk, fleece-” he pauses, smiles- “nothing?”
Kakyoin shudders.
“Hmm. Perhaps when your fever breaks. I remember that you were quite a lover. Curious and vivacious.” He strokes Kakyoin’s cheek again. “Bloodthirsty. We have that in common. We have so very much in common, you and I.”
Kakyoin despises himself for the comfort he takes in the touch of that hand - but it is gentle, and he longs for gentleness. The pain in his torso sickens him and the glaring darkness burns his eyes. Kakyoin’s world is emptiness but for Dio’s whispers and his cold, strong, sure embrace.
“I have missed you, pet.”
The coolness of Dio’s hand is still there when Kakyoin wakes. “Hello again, my pretty thing. I wondered when you would return to me. Pretty young man with blood red hair. Have I told you how fond I am of blood?”
He has. Many times. Kakyoin’s head still pounds with the temptation.
“Perhaps you will let me taste yours.”
“No.” Kakyoin cringes at the sound of his voice echoing too loudly off of unseen walls. He has heard nothing but the murmur of Dio’s seductions since being dragged here. A noise louder than a whisper is jarring.
“How you startle!” Dio smooths his thumb placatingly against Kakyoin’s jaw. “Like a mouse.”
Kakyoin curls into himself and retreats into the emptiness of his mind. He cannot take refuge here long - his protector is dead, and his head is full of loneliness. The touch of Dio’s fingers drags Kakyoin back to awareness. “Have I made you a mouse, my pet? I would keep you well fed, and play with you every day. You need never be alone. You would be so loved, my darling. You need never lift a finger - I will lay out your every desire on a table of gold. Name it, and it will be yours.”
“I desire nothing,” replies Kakyoin, and the echo slices through his skull like claws.
Dio laughs, eerily quiet, and stretches out his arm. “Here it lies before you, my treasured one. Nothing on a golden table.”
Dio does not let go of Kakyoin to eat. He simply makes a turn of his head and sinks his teeth into the neck of one person after another. Their struggling flesh is warm through Kakyoin’s pajamas - still his own, still lavender striped, in spite of Dio’s every offer.
Kakyoin begins to look forward to Dio’s meals. As routine as they are, as mundane as they become, each one is a moment’s respite from Nothingness and Dio.
Victims are objective. They live, they struggle, they die, they struggle no more. They are everything that Kakyoin once admired about violence.
Power was for the strong. Power earned respect. The powerful were strong and they lived at the expense of the weak. Once, there was Dio, and he was powerful, and that was all.
Now there is Dio and Nothingness, Nothing and Everything and Dio.
Dio is everything and Dio is nothing and Kakyoin is caught in between them, half dead half alive.
Somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter anymore. There is nothing to admire here.
“Consider it, my beloved. Will you join me? Will you let me taste your blood? Come to me, and I will give you happiness.” Dio’s patience is eternal.
Kakyoin’s strength has fled from him. He catches a glimpse of memory now and then - once, he had a mother, he thinks; once, he made art. It can’t be important. Those are memories of who he once was.
Now, he is here, and there is Dio, and there is nothing more.
“Happiness?” Kakyoin whispers. “I have forgotten happiness.”
“Let me teach you,” Dio purrs. “I will bring it to you.”
“Yes,” says Kakyoin, unsure of why he ever resisted. The touch of Dio’s lips on his neck burns with cold.
“My precious one. I look forward to our future.”
“To our future.”
“To our future,” Dio agrees, and kisses Kakyoin’s throat in lieu of a toast.
And he drinks.