InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ When The Lines Blur ❯ Hell ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter 3 -Hell

Inuyasha does not particularly like life.

Life, he knows, is not good. Life is very unfair. All the bad things happen to one person while for another, nothing ever goes wrong.

Contrary to what people think, death, according to Inuyasha, is not frightening. He is not afraid of death. Neither is he particularly attracted towards death. Inuyasha does not think it is particularly brave to be unafraid of death. Death is not pleasant or horrifying. Death just is.

After having been on the verge of death so many times (a hanyou knows all about running for one's life) Inuyasha does not think that it is logical to take that life away. Life is precious after all, isn't it? At least that is what he used to think till a few years ago. When he was alone. He questioned this once when the miko's arrow pierced him through his heart, when Kikyou looked at him with eyes full of hatred.

Now, he thinks that he might question the value of his life again. He has seen too much darkness, too much betrayal.

"Argh!"

The small sound escapes him as he is thrown carelessly across the room, his back hitting the hard stone wall.

His tormentor walks towards him, slowly, with measured steps. His hair is in an implacable grip and he is yanked up, head pulled backward forced to meet his eyes.

"Oni-sama," he whispers. His mind is no longer his own.

His brother flings him back to the floor, face meeting the rock floor with a sickening sound. The sound echoes in the quiet night, as if the universe holds its breath to listen to the hanyou break.

"You disobeyed," the words are quiet and resounding.

Inuyasha brings himself to his knees, head hanging low. Sesshoumaru kicks him solidly in his chest. Inuyasha's breath leaves his body, a blue bruise beginning to form. He tries to get up again but the force of the kick still lingers, like a weight pinning him down.

"You went after her…the dead priestess."

Sesshoumaru's eyes are cold. There is a hint of red in them.

"Why?"

Inuyasha does not answer. But silence is not what his elder commanded.

"Undress," Sesshoumaru orders.

This is a command he can obey so Inuyasha slowly and painfully rises to his feet, body bowed a little because he cannot fully straighten his chest. The point where his elder brother's boot connected, burns. But he obeys, quickly shedding his garments. Then he returns to his knees and bows his head.

The poison whip darts forward and strikes Inuyasha's bare back, lingering to caress it with its deadly touch. The skin sizzles where the whip rests for a millisecond. Sesshomaru could have retracted it instantly so that there no damage besides blood. But he doesn't.

"You kissed her."

Inuyasha does not defend himself. Does not say that it was she who kissed him. Does not tell him that she was his first love and first love can never be forgotten. Sesshoumaru does not know anything about love.

The second strike lands across the first one, the juncture where they cross burns even deeper and Inuyasha cannot contain a hiss. The whip retracts and when it returns, it wraps itself around the hanyou's neck. Not even his hands go up to his throat to try and loosen it. What would be the point? Tonight, his brother will mark him to remind him just who he belongs to. The marks have to be deep, painful - pain, after all, is the best foil for insolence. Inuyasha accepts the marks because he knows that his brother will either sear his skin with his mark - or kill him.

Sesshoumaru pulls him closer, the whip choking him like a dog's leash except a dog's collar and leash are not made of deadly poison. They hurt the dog less.

The Taiyoukai pulls him in close, body trapped against his own.

"You would go to hell with her…"

For the first time, Inuyasha looks up at him, eyes dull with pain. The choking acidic whip is making it difficult to form coherent thoughts.

"No…" he whispers.

Hell is freedom from life but hell is a long way away. Kikyou has been to and returned from hell but he would make that journey with…and for…only one person. But why would Sesshoumaru ask him to accompany him to hell? His brother is Lord of Hell as well; even the Hell guardians bow to him.

Sesshoumaru releases his throat, the whip retreating into its master's fingers, and seals his brother's lips with his own. There is nothing gentle about the kiss. It is about possession…dominance. Sesshoumaru plunges his tongue in his little brother's mouth, marking his territory. He can taste grave soil and death on his lips…but not in his mouth.

Inuyasha allows his brother to tongue fuck him as he pleases. However rough, violent his brother chooses to be, his touch is a hundred times more pleasant than the undead miko's. Love, you know, does not always consider pleasure…love doesn't always taste sweet - especially first love.

Sesshoumaru pulls him even closer, one hand going behind his neck, holding his head in place, allowing him no movement. No, love is not always about pleasure. Sometimes, for those who have known too much of life, it is about more than that; certainly it is about more than life.

Before he lets go, Sesshoumaru slices his lip with his fang. It is not a small, delicate cut. Blood seeps generously from the seemingly shallow wound. Sesshoumaru is an expert at drawing blood. It dribbles down his mouth, down his chin. Sesshoumaru likes blood on his otouto tonight.

Inuyasha blinks up at him and the next thing he knows, his ass is hitting the bed. Sesshoumaru is upon him in an instant, pushing his face into the sheets, hiking his ass into the air.

Inuyasha cries out as his brother enters him on one violent thrust. Sesshoumaru relishes the sound. Hanyou are not built to take a taiyoukai's fucking. Inuyasha's ass tears at the unprepared, dry entry. There is no pleasure, not for the younger. Perfect.

"Who do you belong to, hanyou?"

Inuyasha wants to reply, he really does, but his ass his face is smothered into the sheets so the words come out a mumble.

"Who?" Sesshoumaru repeats quietly. "Do you belong to the dead priestess? Do you belong to Kikyou, Inuyasha?"

A lance of pain goes through his heart on hearing her name on Sesshoumaru's lips. No, he does not belong to her. Yes, he gave himself to her once upon a time but he has never truly belonged to anyone except his brother. Because no one can own him the way Sesshoumaru does.

"You," he cries. "I belong only to you, Aniue!"

The sheets are blood red, but really, no color can hide blood.

_____________________________________________________________ _________________________________

"You will sleep here tonight." Inuyasha nods. The night was long - punishment always is. His body is almost too hurt to move - more from the inside than from the outside but he cannot hide the hope, the elation in his eyes. To sleep at his elder brother's feet; could there be greater bliss?

Sesshoumaru lies down onto the bed, head resting on his forearm. His brother looks beautiful decorated with his marks. Inuyasha's body is littered with bitemarks and blood. His eyes are glassy with the pain - more emotional than physical. But the taiyoukai glances once at the hanyou and Inuyasha arranges himself in place immediately, lying horizontally at his feet.

"On your face," Sesshoumaru orders and Inuyasha obeys.

Sesshoumaru places the heel of his foot on his living footrest, exactly at the point where the two lashes of the whip crossed to leave a deep, acidic gash. Inuyasha hisses at the pain but makes no attempt to move away.

"Tell me why," Sesshoumaru whispers.

Inuyasha does not answer because he does not know the answer himself. Why does he always return when she calls? Because he loves her? No. Because he cares for her? Maybe, but there is more than that. Because she cares for him? No, she cares nothing for him except that she loves him. Then why?

"Because," he whispers, cheek against the cool silk sheets, the weight of his master's feet on his torn, bleeding back. "If I don't…then I will be free…"

Freedom…the word tastes bitter. It speaks of uprooted forests and wingless birds; of homeless orphans and an indifferent world. Freedom means being free from the chains that bind. Freedom means being free from the ties that bind. But freedom also means being free from those ties that you want to keep. Inuyasha knows all about freedom because he had always been free - bound to nothing and no one - till he met Kikyou. Inuyasha knows freedom well enough to fear it.

Sesshoumaru stares at his broken little brother and understands.

"Fool," he murmurs softly, rage subsiding. He removes his feet from Inuyasha's back, sits up and grabs the hanyou's arm, pulling him to himself. Inuyasha is limp as a doll in his hands. For the second time that night, Sesshoumaru kisses him deeply, not bothering to keep his hands away from the hanyou's injured back.

Inuyasha delights in the pain and thinks that it would be preferable to die rather than disappoint his brother again but he doesn't, because his life doesn't belong to him anymore.

Sesshoumaru traps his brother's smaller body in his arms and legs - one arm high across the hanyou's chest, gripping his other shoulder and the other low across his stomach, lithe legs between his own more muscular ones, pinning the hanyou to himself. Inuyasha releases a shuddering breath, taut, screaming muscles relaxing, body sinking in the elder's arms into a boneless mass.

"You will never be free."

It is the sweetest thing Inuyasha has ever heard him say.

_____________________________________________________________ _________________________________

A/N: Feedback appreciated.