Chapter Text
Ryoken cut open Yusaku with a steady hand and a pristine scalpel. It penetrated his breast and tore through him with ease. He was like a letter before a penknife and for Ryoken, Yusaku happily spilt all his contents and Ryoken took delight in picking through his organs. The sharp bladed end of his scalpel playfully poking and prodding the blue and pink squishy bits insides his lover. Ryoken half smiled whilst Yusaku took such beautiful simpering breaths.
He tilted his head back. He let his eyes roll back as well as the ceiling was a rather boring thing to observe; it was white with no delicacy or flourish, but the mansion was a minimalist place. All but abandoned save for them. They were in the living room of Ryoken’s place. It was so clean and clinical, no one would have guessed that it was once a living room at all, but it was. The cream walls, the lack of carpet, this was a place where Ryoken had once played on the floor as a boy and it was still a place that he played on the floor. His toy was no longer plastic, was the only problem but rather living flesh.
Ryoken carefully removed his favourite piece of Yusaku. His half smile, like a crescent moon, turned to a full smile. His nose wrinkled as his hands turned pink with icky blood. He wore no gloves for he liked the touch of Yusaku. His exterior was ice cold, but his interior burned red hot.
His favourite piece of Yusaku was the piece of him that he had always owned and would always own. That was, of course, his lover’s heart. He liked to hold it in his hands. It was heavy, laden with guilt and love and it was his. Theirs, really. It still continued to pump in his hands. Ryoken adored how such a sensation felt upon his bare and bloody palm, Yusaku’s blood dripping down his life and love lines inside of it. So warm yet not quite fresh.
Ryoken squeezed Yusaku’s heart and he liked the change of noises elicited from Yusaku’s mouth. He was such a good boy, letting Ryoken play mad doctor as he would. He kept his breathing calm and steady during all the preparation to their little games but as soon as Ryoken held his literal heart in his literal hands, things did tend to change. His breathing shallowed and his pain, however slight, tended to rear its head whilst Ryoken left traced echoes of his fingernails on Yusaku’s fragile organ, scarred and hurt but healing. Probably healing.
“I love you, Ryoken.” Yusaku murmured as Ryoken continued to examine his heart.
“I know.” Ryoken said and there was a twinkle of dark humour in his stardust blue eyes. “I have your heart, after all.”
“You take my breath away as well.” Yusaku mutably agreed.
Ryoken glanced at Yusaku’s exposed lungs. He licked his lips as he kissed Yusaku’s heart, licking at the blood and letting it stain his mouth like wine. “Don’t tempt me…” he murmured, eyeing up deliciously the branches inside of Yusaku’s blue-lilac lungs, not unlike bunches upon bunches of beautiful wisteria.