Archive of Our Own ^beta

II lets out a pathetic sniffle, he’d been trying to be so good but everything hurts so much, his body still hasn’t recovered from when III pushed him down the stairs the other day and he’d been hoping the concerning shade of his ribs was going to give him a break, but he fucked up and nothing held back the beating III gave him earlier.

The rape that followed was worse, not that III would ever admit that’s what it was.

He’s not sure what he did to cause it this time, but then he never really knows. All he knows is he fails and fails and III has to correct him.

It’s his own fault really, when III confessed to him that he liked giving pain, and he’d responded with a beet-red face that he didn’t mind receiving pain either. It always made his cunt throb in ways it shouldn’t.

In ways that III loved to use against him, to make him realise how fucked up he was, how of course III wasn’t going to stop causing him pain, not when he can see how wet he is.

He can’t remember when it spiralled out of control to this point, but eventually the pain became more and more intense and III refused to stop, delighting in it, and making a point to prove how much II likes it too.

Even now, II can’t stop his legs from squeezing a bit together, his cunt is still raw and bleeding but something about it is making his little dick throb in ways that make him want to be sick and he curls up in his bed, still naked from when he dragged himself here, and he huddles into himself pathetically, trying to ignore the misery he’s in.

He’s so lost in his own distress, he misses when the door opens, and it’s not until he sees the figure in front of his bed that he realises someone came in, and his heart freezes at being caught like this.

Instead of anger though, III’s voice is soft and gentle, “Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

If II didn’t know better, he’d think it was genuine. He sounds so much like the III he used to know, and it makes his heart clench in misery as he thinks about how things were before.

II can’t bring himself to respond, not when III knows exactly what’s wrong, but he also can’t stop himself from grabbing onto the man and clinging as hard as he can when he sits next to him.

“Shhh,” III hushes, holding II’s shaking body close to him, and despite himself, II can’t help but burrow in, his broken body seeking any comfort he can possibly get, even if the hands that currently hold him are the ones that broke him in the first place.

He should be more careful, his ribs an awful yellow colour from when III shoved him down the stairs the other day, and his cunt still bleeding from the violence with which III just fucked him. He should know the man holding him is not one to be messed with, and he does know that, but he can’t bring himself to move away.

Instead, he lets his aching body slowly relax as III’s hands softly stroke him, a complete dichotomy to how they’ve treated him before, and flecks of his dried blood fall off them and embed in his own skin but it’s fine.

It’s fine when III shushes him, when he takes II’s hand into his own tender grip, his callouses barely even tickling him, it’s fine until it’s not.

II doesn’t realise what happens at first, it happens so quickly, so suddenly, that he’s left reeling before the pain even hits.

It’s probably the Crack he registers first, the awful sound as III yanks his thumb backwards, using all his strength to bend it flat to the back of his hand and then further.

The pain comes next, an awful radiating heat that II can barely place, it’s agony and it he jolts up, unable to tear his eyes away from it, trying to work out how this is happening, still trying to catch up with what truly happened, not wanting to accept the truth of what III has done.

Unfortunately, there’s no denying it. It’s a miracle there’s no bone showing, but it’s swollen and bruising already and bent in a way that’s so unnatural to him it makes him sick.

He doesn’t realise he’s screaming until he stops, his throat hoarse from it and fat tears burst free from his eyes.

“Why- Why isn’t this enough- Why won’t you stop?!” II heaves out, barely able to breathe around his sobs, his nose snotty and eyes red and flushed, he’s never felt lower and III just strokes his hair softly in response.

“I promise baby, when Sleep blocks this pain off for you, when it stops affecting you, I’ll stop then,” III murmurs low in II’s ear, “You just cry so pretty, you can’t blame me for that, can you?”

Wet tears stream from his face and as much as II does his best to hold them back at the words, it’s impossible. He hates this. He has no idea how III could possibly find any part of him pretty in this state and he doesn’t want to be seen like this, much less found attractive, he’s desperate for III to stop and he hates himself for inviting this monster in.

It’s too late though, it doesn’t matter how many times II begs and screams, how many ‘No’s’ he forces out, III won’t listen to him. He won’t stop until II is no longer affected, and he’s long since given up praying to Sleep to take this from him, now he can only hope that his own body will become so used to it it won’t be affected anymore.

He can’t picture that happening unfortunately, not with the pain currently radiating through his body, not with the new and inventive torture III constantly thinks up.

How will he play the drums now? Even if he didn’t feel this pain, the mental anguish at being kept from them would be so big, it wouldn’t matter, he’d never be able to hold back his tears.

He can’t hold them back.

Despite himself, full body shudders wrack through his body as he thinks of what III’s taken from him, and he clings to the man with all the strength he can muster, the hollow ache in his body too large to try and stay unaffected.

And worse, III soothes him, he rocks II slowly and hushes false comforts into his ear and makes II feel loved in a way that makes him want to throw up. He needs to set his thumb, needs to wash the blood off and clean himself up but he can’t stop himself from sobbing and III’s arms are more like a cage.

He won’t be allowed to look after himself until III has had his full, and under his shaking body II can feel III’s cock starting to stir once again and a fresh set of tears floods out of him, knowing that it’ll be a long time before III will have had his full of him tonight.