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kat8cha"Forgive me father, for I have sinned." The words were empty, meaningless. Words learned by rote, spewed out when Mukuro had attended church to maintain his façade, to laugh at God, and the mindless people who followed him. People looking for a saviour.
I will destroy you. Mukuro had always thought. I will destroy your savior.
Hail Mary, full of Grace, the lord is with you.
The church reeks, smells of expensive, heavy handed incense, and burning wax. The candles around the alter cast a flickering warm glow on the affairs, a warmth that is a lie. Mukuro has always burned cold.
"You need to confess your sins now, Mukuro-kun." Byakuran's hands are cold, colder than Mukuro, colder than the fierce ball of anger and hate that is lodged in Mukuro's stomach. "It's the only way God will know how to punish you." Byakuran's breath when it brushes against his ear is hot and wet, and Byakuran's tongue is soft, slimy, Mukuro thinks it should be forked. "And forgive you. God forgives us all, Mukuro-kun."
Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
"It has been…" Mukuro thinks of how long it has been since his last confession. He came with Lancia, holding Lancia's large hand in his small one. Lancia had sat in the back of the church with him, separated from the rest of the congregation.
Lancia had wept.
"It has been ten years since my last confession." Mukuro thinks it might be ten; it has quite possibly been less or more. Mukuro was never good at math, and never good at keeping time. "And right now, I am engaging in the act of sodomy."
Byakuran laughs, and thrusts hard inside of him. Mukuro grits his teeth, his hands clinging to the cold, smooth, marble riser in front of him, his knees grating across the cold, hard floor. Mukruo will not cry out. "Are you enjoying it, Mukuro-kun?" Byakuran bites Mukuro's shoulder and Mukuro does not flinch. There is no pain that Byakuran can inflict upon him that Mukuro has not felt before. No pain of body, mind, or heart, but the utter helplessness which Mukuro finds himself enduring is unbearable.
"No, Byakuran-sama, I am not." Mukuro clenches around Byakuran, hisses when this causes Byakuran to thrust again, a slow shallow thrust that rubs against Mukuro's prostate. "Does the Catholic church make exceptions in cases of rape?"
Byakuran's cold hands wrap around Mukuro's cock. "Some Christian churches do."
Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.
Mukuro bits his tongue, squeezes his eye shut. Byakuran can make him enjoy this, can strap him down and force him to endure, can cut him off from the rest of the world… But Mukuro will not break.
"You haven't finished confessing, Mukuro-kun." Byakuran tightens his fist around Mukuro's erection, past the point of pain. Mukuro smirks, strained, pained, but confident.
"Will you allow me to eat his flesh, and drink his blood when I am finished, father."
A cold hand on Mukuro's neck, not squeezing, but stroking, petting, and Mukuro could scream. "I'll see if I can find you a communion wafer, Mukuro-kun."
Amen.
I will destroy you. Mukuro had always thought. I will destroy your savior.
Hail Mary, full of Grace, the lord is with you.
The church reeks, smells of expensive, heavy handed incense, and burning wax. The candles around the alter cast a flickering warm glow on the affairs, a warmth that is a lie. Mukuro has always burned cold.
"You need to confess your sins now, Mukuro-kun." Byakuran's hands are cold, colder than Mukuro, colder than the fierce ball of anger and hate that is lodged in Mukuro's stomach. "It's the only way God will know how to punish you." Byakuran's breath when it brushes against his ear is hot and wet, and Byakuran's tongue is soft, slimy, Mukuro thinks it should be forked. "And forgive you. God forgives us all, Mukuro-kun."
Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
"It has been…" Mukuro thinks of how long it has been since his last confession. He came with Lancia, holding Lancia's large hand in his small one. Lancia had sat in the back of the church with him, separated from the rest of the congregation.
Lancia had wept.
"It has been ten years since my last confession." Mukuro thinks it might be ten; it has quite possibly been less or more. Mukuro was never good at math, and never good at keeping time. "And right now, I am engaging in the act of sodomy."
Byakuran laughs, and thrusts hard inside of him. Mukuro grits his teeth, his hands clinging to the cold, smooth, marble riser in front of him, his knees grating across the cold, hard floor. Mukruo will not cry out. "Are you enjoying it, Mukuro-kun?" Byakuran bites Mukuro's shoulder and Mukuro does not flinch. There is no pain that Byakuran can inflict upon him that Mukuro has not felt before. No pain of body, mind, or heart, but the utter helplessness which Mukuro finds himself enduring is unbearable.
"No, Byakuran-sama, I am not." Mukuro clenches around Byakuran, hisses when this causes Byakuran to thrust again, a slow shallow thrust that rubs against Mukuro's prostate. "Does the Catholic church make exceptions in cases of rape?"
Byakuran's cold hands wrap around Mukuro's cock. "Some Christian churches do."
Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.
Mukuro bits his tongue, squeezes his eye shut. Byakuran can make him enjoy this, can strap him down and force him to endure, can cut him off from the rest of the world… But Mukuro will not break.
"You haven't finished confessing, Mukuro-kun." Byakuran tightens his fist around Mukuro's erection, past the point of pain. Mukuro smirks, strained, pained, but confident.
"Will you allow me to eat his flesh, and drink his blood when I am finished, father."
A cold hand on Mukuro's neck, not squeezing, but stroking, petting, and Mukuro could scream. "I'll see if I can find you a communion wafer, Mukuro-kun."
Amen.
