It was late, but Seto doesn’t dare sleep. He’s exhausted, his eyes hurting even from the dim bedside table lamp, but he won’t turn it off. More than anything, he wants to roll over, pull the covers high and sleep.
Seto sits up in bed and he waits, terrified.
Footsteps stop outside his door, slow, shuffling and Seto does his best to steel himself. The doorknob rattles as it turns.
The door has opened and Seto shakes. Every night… Every night he is visited and…
“Oh, Seto? I just came to check on you…” Gouzaburou is smiling and Seto swallows hard. He tries to reign in his fear, he tries to keep from shaking but…
Gouzaburou licks his bottom lip and Seto is terrified.
“You’ve had so much trouble sleeping…” Gouzaburou is good at speaking softly.
Seto is tight lipped. There is nothing but deception in this man. Cruelty and deception and…
“Perhaps I should go check on Mokuba, then…”
Seto’s heart sinks, he swallows the dryness from his throat and tries not to choke.
“What is it you need…?” He leaves off the last word and Gouzaburou just sneers at him.
“Father, what is it you need, father,” he says, sitting on the bed, far, far too close.
The word sticks in his throat as biles burns upwards. He is a sick and twisted and…
“Father,” Seto forces the word from his lips.
“That’s it, son…” he says with a grin and Seto just wants to vomit and whimper.
Gouzaburou caresses his hand down Seto’s cheek and it’s disgusting. This man is a monster and Seto wonders if he did the right thing, in beating him at chess, in bringing Mokuba here.
“Oh…? You seem tired, Seto… I really should go check on Mokuba…” Such a soft voice he uses…
Seto pulls the bedding off of himself. It’s cool and he hates how he shakes. Cold sweat breaks out over his entire body as Gouzaburou moves closer to him. The bedside lamp is on and Seto wishes for all the world it wasn’t. To see less would be mercy. To be able to close his eyes and just lay there would be tolerable, but…
But Gouzaburou is a bastard.
“You seem fine, Seto. Let me go check on Mokuba.” He’s louder, now and Seto flinches.
Everything burns and Seto feels utterly helpless.
“Why do you always come to me, then speak of Mokuba? I am here, am I not?” he forces the words out. He’s far too young to play these games, but he won’t think too hard on that; it will only serve to hurt him more.
“Oh?” Gouzaburou gives a curt little laugh and Seto wants to spit in his face.
Seto smiles instead, popping open the buttons of his nightshirt, trying to hide the trembling of his fingers. He learned quickly how to keep the bastard entertained. Anything, anything at all to keep Mokuba safe…
His dear, sweet little brother…
Seto gasps out in shock and disgust as a big rough hand caresses his chest. Gouzaburou doesn’t seem to notice it’s not a sound of pleasure.
His cheeks are flushed and Seto can only hope the bastard won’t try to kiss him again. That repulsive mouth and Seto turns his head away, gasping and arching, all for show, all to keep Mokuba safe.
His pajama pants and underwear are gone and Seto isn’t even sure if he cares. Gouzaburou kisses down his body and that is far more tolerable than having to kiss that mouth. Maybe the bastard finally learned that Seto hates it…
Of course, that would stand to reason that Gouzaburou would do it to him even more.
He inhales sharp, cheeks hot and he curses himself that he’s hard. It’s just his age, he tells himself, his body coming into puberty. It’s just a physical reaction, he doesn’t actually want this…
“What a lusty little thing you are…” Gouzaburou whispers and Seto could kick his face in. He does nothing, of course. “I think it’s a good thing I stopped by tonight, to check on you, don’t you think, son?”
Seto gasps, forcing his legs open. He hopes it is enough, but it never is. Nothing is ever enough for this greedy pig. Fingers dig into his hip and Seto hisses in pain. “Y-yes, f-father… I’m so glad you stopped by-by to check on me,” he says between grit teeth, his jaw aching.
“I thought so…” His fingers are rough and Seto is crying out in earnest as first one and then two are pushed inside of him. Gouzaburou keeps a bottle of lube in his nightstand now. He even tells Seto he should feel free to use it, to touch himself, finger himself.
Seto hates opening that drawer. He hates this house and he hates his life, but he loves Mokuba and so…
When Gouzaburou rolls Seto onto his stomach, he endures. When he’s pushed into, he cries out and takes it, because Mokuba is safe here. Mokuba has food and shelter and more toys than he could ever possibly want.
Seto thinks only of Mokuba, even as Gouzaburou is behind him, panting and making all manner of nauseating noises. For Mokuba, he will take and endure.
For Mokuba, his tears of pain and disgust are worth it.
It’s hard and rough, it burns as he’s forced open, stretched wide. Gouzaburou says he has a large cock, but Seto doesn’t know, nor does he care. It is only another thing that Gouzaburou says, another thing that Seto has learned to respond to. He mewls and whimpers, he says it’s good and Gouzaburou laughs a breathy, nasty little laugh.
Seto praises his adoptive father, calls him strong and big, it seems to get Gouzaburou off faster. It hurts more, but Seto doesn’t care if it makes it end quicker.
“S-so big! Father!” Seto cries out, he gasps, tears stinging his cheeks and he forces his eyes shut so tight he wonders if he’ll be able to open them again come morning. Morning, when he will limp down to the dining hall and have breakfast with this beast and his brother.
Mokuba will smile at him and Seto will do his best to hide all of the pain and turmoil he faced the night before…
Seto hisses between his teeth, his body shuddering and Gouzaburou grabs him by the hair and forces him into the mattress even harder. Wet slapping noises echo in the room, Gouzaburou grunting and panting until Seto feels hot stickiness down the backs of his thighs, his weight pressing into Seto that much more.
It’s over only when Gouzaburou pulls away and dresses himself, leaving Seto a mess on the bed.
“You best get to bed, Seto… Wouldn’t want Mokuba to worry, would you?” The softness of his voice is gone, just a condescending sneer, now.
“Of course not, father. Thank you for checking on me…”
Gouzaburou looks smug and Seto is pulling his nightshirt back on. The bastard just smiles and leaves and Seto is shaking, sobbing as the door clicks shut.