Short Scene - Nero/SP - Aftermath
This takes place some time in the few days after this event. So somewhere around Feb. 6-8th. It just randomly came to me a couple weeks ago and I wrote it, but never posted it.
Just a short bit of interaction with Nero fucking with SP's head/emotions concerning Chris.
It's a one-sided conversation for the most part. Mentions of rape/sex. Kinda angsty.
“Have you told your dear Christopher the truth, yet?” Punk clenched his eyes closed at the voice that haunted him, refused to turn around to face the presence of the demon that he suddenly felt behind him. He heard the faint laughter that he hated before Nero started to speak again. “You really should answer me, Phillip. Before I decide you're trying to play the ignoring game again and do something about it. I don't think you want a repeat so soon, after the weekend we had.”
A few sharpened nails brushed over the back of his neck and Punk tensed even more than he already was, if that was possible. His mind was reeling, a shuddering breath passing his lips as he felt a struggle rise up in him. This was not the kind of reaction he should have to a touch from that bastard, everything in him should be screaming to get away. Yet, he stayed still, and almost found himself wishing Nero would do something more than scrape nails over skin.
Instead, he willed himself to open his eyes and turned his head slightly to show he was paying attention. Refused to speak, because they both knew the answer to the question and he wasn't going to give the damn thing the satisfaction of voicing as much. Or eye contact. If he looked at Nero, he was almost certain something he didn't want would happen. A certain amount of fear kept him training his gaze on the wall to his left. Tried to think of a way out of this conversation.
Nero didn't seem to be in the mood to watch him struggle for a way out, though, and Punk jumped horribly when suddenly he went from being an arm's length away to directly behind him. Almost touching. He was suddenly more grateful for his clothing in that moment than he had ever been before in his life.
“Did you tell him?” The question was breathed against his ear and Punk clenched his eyes closed again. There wasn't a chance to respond before Nero continued on, grin obvious in his voice. “Tell him what occurred while he was away for a day and a half? I bet he'll be deliciously horrified at the thought of his precious pet being raped by yours truly. He'll probably think you're damaged, and either try to fix you or throw you away.”
Punk shuddered, his arms coming up to wrap around himself as he turned his head forward again and tried to shy away from the demon. He didn't want to think about all the different things that could result from him telling Chris what had really happened over the weekend while he was gone. A lot of the things that came to mind were unbearable.
“But then I suppose, you'd have to tell him everything. Wouldn't you, Phillip?” Nero didn't allow any more distance to be put between them, hands gripping painfully on his arms to hold him still, speaking directly in his ear. Laughter in his voice. “Imagine how he'd react when he found out that you enjoyed every second of what I did to you.”
“No...” It was all he could think of saying, eyes still clenched closed. He tried to put all his conviction into the barely audible whisper. No, he didn't enjoy what happened, it was just another attempt to fuck with his mind.
“You're shaking.” The demon laughed, hands rubbing up and down his arms, nails lightly scratching along the skin. “It's okay, Phillip. You can claim I raped you multiple times, if it makes you feel better.”
“...You did...”
“But we both know the truth.”
“That is the truth.” His voice raised a bit, but Punk cursed silently when the added volume provided room for his voice to quiver.
“I had you begging many times. Not for me to stop or go away, either.” Nero sounded almost childishly gleeful as he spoke, and Punk's stomach twisted painfully at his words. No, no, no. This was not happening right now. He was wrong. “Admit it, Phillip. The reason you haven't told your precious Christopher the truth about something you cannot be held responsible for... Is because deep down, it was exactly what you wanted.”
Punk shook his head viciously, but it did nothing to stop the words flowing from the thing's mouth.
“And better still, you want more.”
“No!” It was sharp, and in the same moment he was actually able to yank away from the grip on him, away from the demon. He stumbled over to the dresser where his knife lay and gripped it in one hand, leaning against the dresser. Nero was laughing again.
“You can deny it all you want, Phillip, but the fact of the matter is that you crave to experience what I gave you over the weekend again.”
“I don't.”
“What would dear Christopher think if he knew the truth, hm, Phillip? If he knew about all those little moans and noises you tried to stifle. The whines and the whimpers. Your cries, screams of pain and pleasure that he can never provide.” Punk's knuckles were almost white from how hard his hands were clenched, the hilt of the knife in his hand digging into one palm while nails drew blood from the other. “You're ruined for him, tainted to the very core of your being. He'd drop you before you even had a chance to beg for anything different. And why shouldn't he?”
“Stop...” He could feel panic starting to rise at the thought that the demon was right. Chris would be furious at how he'd let himself be trapped like this, in the demon's hold—he wouldn't bother trying to pull Punk free. No, though. Nero was wrong. He didn't want anything—anyone other than Chris. There was no sexual desire for the thing behind him. Nothing.
“Why don't you turn around? Afraid that if you look at me, your wall of denial will crumble around you? You might end up begging me to take you right now, even with your dear boyfriend due back any moment.” A pause, then. “It would probably be easier to show him, don't you think? Better to show than tell, so he can really understand how helpless you are to me—to your own wants.”
That did it. With an enraged yell for the thing to shut up, Punk spun around and threw that knife with what should have been perfect accuracy at the other. Instead of hitting it's mark, though, the knife embedded itself in the wall directly beside the bed on the other side of the room. Nero was nowhere to be found, and for a horrible moment he thought he might be imagining things. Breathing heavily, Punk looked around the empty room before collapsing to his knees and curling in on himself, breaking down into small sobs.
A moment passed before that hand ghosted across the back of his neck again. The demon's voice once more whispered directly into his ear, nearly the same thing he'd sent in a message the night Chris had returned and originally discovered his boyfriend torn to shreds. A direct result of Nero's actions—of Nero raping him repeatedly over the course of a day and a half. He couldn't let himself think any different.
“It's okay, Phillip. You don't have to tell him, it can be our little secret.”
So why did he feel so relieved by those words?