skizzmm

[skizzmm]

Not your average dentist

characters: Rizer Schafer x Kain saint basin

word count: 8454

warnings: blood & gore, rizer sticks his finger in kains wound

-

Rizer adjusted his glasses, the lenses catching the dim light from his lamp and obscuring his eyes as he straightened the last of his paperwork. His slender fingers tapped absently on his desk, impatience seeping into each movement.

It had been months since Kain last walked through these doors. Every day had felt like a painful repetition, one that was missing its most critical, chaotic element. Rizer’s patience had worn thin, and his smile—always too wide, too bright—never quite reached his eyes.

Kain’s absence was noticeable in the way a missing puzzle piece threw off the entire picture. Rizer found himself glancing toward the waiting area whenever the bell above the door chimed, expecting to see Kain sprawled across the seats or antagonizing his other clients just for the fun of it. But every time, it was just another regular person with a regular problem, and that grated on Rizer’s nerves. It was petty, even childish, how something so small could get under his skin. But it wasn’t just about Kain not being there—it was the boredom, the blandness of every day without him.

Rizer tugged at the collar of his deep brown blazer, straightening it with an absentminded flick of his wrist. the subtle pattern of plaid becoming more pronounced against the light pink tie that's been paired with the otherwise neutral suit. a meticulous ensemble designed to draw just the right amount of attention to himself. brushing off invisible specks of dust Rizer moved across his office with a graceful, rehearsed ease. He flicked off the lights, each switch echoing with a hollow click, his silhouette casting elongated shadows against the clinic’s sterile walls. He paused at his desk, his fingers trailing absently along the edge of the counter, when his door slammed open.

Rizer looked up, his smile freezing on his face as Kain walked in—or more accurately, stumbled in.

Kain’s broad frame filled the doorway, casting a long shadow that didn’t quite fit the cocky, defiant figure Rizer was used to. the once-white tank top now stained with dirt and blood, clinging to his chest in a way that emphasized the heaving rise and fall of his breath. His jeans were ripped at the knee, and his skin was littered with bruises in various stages of healing, some fresh and angry red, others fading to sickly yellows and purples. A makeshift bandage of duct tape and fishing wire held together a nasty gash on his shoulder, the wound already half-healed in the most haphazard way possible. It was clear that whatever Kain had been up to, it was brutal and far from safe.

Rizer’s eyes flicked over every inch of him, cataloging the damage with a clinical precision. The swollen cheek, the dried blood on his knuckles, the slight limp in his step—it all painted a picture of a man who’d been through hell and back and was barely holding himself together. For a moment, Rizer’s grin faltered, replaced by something colder, more calculating.

Despite Kains unraveling state he still carried himself with the same swagger, even if it was slightly subdued by the pain. He staggered forward past Rizer, his steps uneven, and collapsed onto Rizers desk chair, stretching out like he owned the place, taking up as much space as possible despite the obvious strain it put on his battered body.

Kains expression was unreadable, his eyes were heavy-lidded, glassy with fatigue and the faint beginnings of a scowl that never quite left his face. His hair was slightly mussed, the short strands sticking up in odd directions as if he’d run his hands through it too many times. Blood was smeared across his cheek, and a large, crude ‘X’ scar stretched across his face, the old staples embedded within it glinting faintly.

“Late night stroll, Kain?” Rizers smile was all sweetness. Kain felt blood rush to his ears. He hadn’t heard Rizer’s voice for weeks. He felt his wounds ache.

Rizer stepped closer, his shoes barely making a sound against the polished floor. “Let me guess—lost a fight with a dumpster?”

Kain scoffed, his jaw set tight as he forced himself to sit up a little straighter, stubbornly ignoring the pain that flared with the movement. “Better than losin’ a fight to your closet every morning.” His voice was rougher than usual, like gravel scraping over concrete. There was no mistaking the irritation in his tone, but it wasn’t directed at Rizer—not entirely, at least.

Rizer chuckled deep in his throat and Kain watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He burned. He turned his head away to stare at the meticulously lined fountain pens.

A soft smile flittered across Rizer’s lips, his Cupid’s bow twisting delicately and sweetly, though it didn't reach his eyes. Rizer moved closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as he slid his hands into his pockets, his lean body casting a shadow on Kain’s as the warm lamp light made a vignette around Rizer. From here, he looked like an angel. His red bangs brushed against his brow as he tilted his head and parted his mouth. “And here I assumed you’d found a new dentist.”

“Been busy.” Kain shot back, lacking his usual intensity. His head lolled back against the chair, his body slumping further as he let out a ragged breath. “Didn’t come here to chat,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and barely audible. “Just… needed a place to sit.”

Rizer’s gaze lingered on the poorly stitched gash on Kains shoulder. He knew Kain well enough to guess what “busy” meant—old debts, grudges from prison, or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kain was a magnet for trouble, and it was clear that trouble had found him in spades. But it wasn’t the injuries themselves that caught Rizer’s attention; it was the way Kain wore them, with that same brash indifference, as if daring anyone to pity him.

Kain bristled under Rizers gaze, feeling spikes of electricity race up his skin as his hair stood on its ends. He tried to convince himself it was just the pain, but he still avoided Rizer’s sweltering stare.

Rizer’s smile tightened, “Oh, I see. My clinic’s just a fancy waiting room now, is it? A pit stop on your nightly escapades?” his footsteps were soft on the polished floor the sound being absorbed by the transition to plush carpet, as Rizer stood in front of kain. Propping himself against his desk lightly.

Kains shoulders tensed as Rizer’s cold fingers ghosted over his busted knuckles, feeling the tension coil beneath his skin. His flinch was almost imperceptible, but it was enough to spark a flicker of satisfaction in Rizer’s chest.

Kain pulled his hand back, annoyance flashing in his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“Hm?” Rizer tilted his head, watching Kain with an unblinking intensity, his gaze was sharp, probing. “You stroll in here looking like you took a joyride through a meat grinder, and expect me not to comment?”

Kain glared up at him, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “I ain’t here for a lecture.”

“Oh I know. As prickly as you are, you’re still blood and bone like the rest of us mere mortals,” Rizer sardonically laughed, his finger tapping his knee. “Remember that when you're trapezing around dumpsters, for all our sanity.”

A clock ticked faintly. Kain could hear the distant honking of cars in rush hour.

“Well, then.”

“Well, then what?”

“You got a bandage, or somethin? Or should I just keep bleeding all over your shitty chair.” Kain waved his hand dismissively.

Rizer let out a short laugh. “Alright, let’s have a look at you then.” He pushed himself up with unnecessary flair.

Rizer slipped away into a room further inside the dentistry, the door closing behind him with a soft click. Kain’s eyes followed until the last sliver of Rizer’s figure vanished. As soon as Rizer was out of sight, Kain exhaled sharply, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

He flexed and unflexed his hand trying to stop the tremors, He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to drown out the adrenaline that buzzed in his veins, breathing shallowly through his nose as he fought to steady himself. He knew he’d pushed himself too far this time.

When he opened his eyes, Kain stared at his open palm, its lines edged with dirt and blood, the callouses stark, white, brown and red.

When Rizer came back, Kain didn’t turn to look. Despite Rizer’s footsteps barely resounding through the small room, Kain could feel him when he came close. With his eyes cast down, his nape tingled as Rizer’s leather shoes came into view in front of him, disturbing the oriental pattern of the rug that he was vacantly tracing with his eyes. Rizer set down a pristine white box on his desk, and Kain wondered if he’d ever used his surgical tools for anything other than playing around with dentures or whatever he did for his job.

Rizer pulled up a chair, sitting across from Kain as he opened the kit with a swift practiced motion, like it was some grand performance.

Rizer looked up, his expression flickering with something between irritation and amusement as he took in the makeshift bandages—duct tape, fishing wire, and patches of gauze barely clinging to the mess of Kain’s injuries.

“I must say, your creative flair for using thick wire and your own skin as a knitting medium has me at a loss for words,” Rizer’s hand brushed against Kain’s handiwork of half fishing wire, half angry taut flesh on his shoulder. all held together by duct tape. “As an industry expert I am both horrified and impressed.”

“Expert in what?”

“In stitching together rained on puppies that need to take care of themselves more.”

Kain said nothing, his eyes fixed on Rizer’s fingers as they hovered over the poorly wrapped tape, teasing it loose with a kind of clinical curiosity. Rizer peeled back the edge, his gaze lingering on the dried blood and mottled bruises beneath, lips curling into a half-smile as if savoring the mess laid bare. “How long have you been parading around like this?”

Kain furrowed his brows, the weight of the last few hellish days pulling his expression into something dark and brooding. His eyes drifted past Rizer, settling on the floral-patterned sofa behind him glaring at it as if it had somehow offended him, before he finally spoke. “Wasn’t keeping count.” His voice was gruff, edged with the kind of pride and stubborn defiance that kept him standing when most would have crumbled.

"You could have shown up earlier," Rizer said, pulling back the tape on his shoulder further, observing how the abused flesh sticks and peels away from the adhesive, taking in every detail of Kains biceps tensing and contorting, his body revealing everything Kains stoic expression was trying to mask. "I would’ve loved to place all your battered pieces back together. I may be a dentist, but you’d be quite surprised what a little self-taught surgical know-how can do.”

Kain rolled his eyes as if Rizer’s words were some bad joke he’d heard one too many times. “Didn’t know you were moonlighting as a butcher now,” he shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Guess the tooth-pulling business just wasn’t enough for a thrill, huh?”

“You can never have too many hobbies” Rizer mused, peeling back the duct tape and fishing line from Kains shoulder with practiced ease. Kain clenched his teeth, refusing to let out so much as a wince, even when the sting shot up his arm.

Rizer’s expression remained carefully neutral, but there was a flicker of something else—something that Kain couldn’t care to place. The unspoken tension hung between them, thick and unyielding, and for the first time in months, Kain felt something other than pain—something that kept him tethered to this gaudy dental clinic, to the maddening, insufferable man who always seemed to be waiting for him.

Rizer's fingers moved carefully, his touch more invasive than caring, it wasn't just the visible wounds that caught his attention-there was something off about the way Kain was holding himself, a tightness in his breathing that he was clearly trying to mask, fingers digging into his ribs as if trying to hold himself together by sheer force of will. Rizer’s eyes followed the movement, his attention drawn to the awkward, pained way Kain’s chest hitched with each breath. And then he saw it—a faint, irregular flutter in the fabric of Kain’s shirt, a suspicious dip that hinted at something far worse beneath.

”Excuse me,” Rizer hummed, reaching out to lift the hem of Kain's tank top, his fingertips brushing the edge of the worn fabric. The touch was brief, barely more than a whisper of contact, but it was enough to make Kain’s muscles tense beneath his skin. Before Rizer could lift the fabric further, Kain’s hand shot out, gripping Rizer’s wrist in a bruising hold. The sudden resistance was a jolt to Rizer's system, an act of rejection that lit a fire under his already simmering frustration. The pressure was immediate, a warning—one that made Rizer’s blood boil.

Kain’s eyes were sharp, defiant, but there was something else beneath the anger—a flash of vulnerability that he tried desperately to hide. the action was pure reflex, sharp and desperate, In that instant, Kain’s defiance was more than pride—it was survival, a refusal to let Rizer see how deep his wounds ran. how careless he had been.

For a moment, Rizer didn’t move. He just stared at Kain’s hand, his fingers tightening around his wrist in a grip that was both painful and strangely intimate. Rizer’s smile didn’t falter, but his irritation simmered just beneath the surface, bubbling up in the slight twitch of his lips. He could feel the heat of Kain's rejection like a brand against his skin making his fingers curl slightly, Rizer didn't know whether he wanted to strangle him or pull him closer.

“now you're acting coy, Kain? We’re past the point of modesty, don’t you think.” Rizer's smile remained plastered on his face, always putting emphasis on Kains name, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Kain's grip tightened, his fingers digging into Rizer's wrist before his lips parted, ready to bark out a retort but Without warning, Rizer's hand reached up, wrapping around Kain's throat with a firm but measured pressure. his fingers curling intimately around the curve of his neck. He squeezed, not enough to choke but enough to force Kain’s head back against the chair.

Kain’s eyes flittered from Rizer’s hand to his eyes and back, as he felt his head tilt upwards in Rizer’s leather chair. The chair he sat in to make his appointments. The chair he sat in when taking calls. Rizer leaned up, eyes becoming more level with Kain’s as his back arches. Everything was Rizer, his hair, his smell, his lips parting, his slow inhales and exhales. Kain couldn’t take it, but he couldn’t avert himself from him. There was nothing in this world except him.

“You’re a mess,” Rizer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Kain’s eyes stared at Rizer’s lips. He didn’t hear the words.

The chair hit the wall with a dull thud, kains broad shoulders absorbing the impact as Rizer pressed closer. Rizers smile was thin, The lines of his face were tense, his usual mask of charisma and charm twisted by a desperate need for control. “You keep pushing me away,” Rizer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but it was laced with an edge that sent a shiver down Kain’s spine. He leaned in closer, his tone softening, “And for what? To pretend you’re still in control? That you don’t need anyone?”

“You think I haven’t noticed? The way you keep coming back here, bleeding all over my clinic like some stray dog?”

Kain’s breath hitched as Rizer’s fingers glided across his juglar, his body coiled like a spring ready to snap, He could easily break Rizer's hold, could overpower him in a heartbeat if he wanted to, but he didn’t push Rizer away. Not yet. Instead, he stared down at him, eyes blazing, deep down he didn't care if Rizer went further, if he pressed harder.

For a split second, Rizer felt the urge to keep squeezing, to tighten his grip until Kain couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t push him away ever again. His thumb pressed against Kain’s pulse, feeling the frantic thud beneath the skin, and it was maddening—how easily He could make Kain bend, make him beg, and Kain would let him. But even as the thought flickered in his mind, Rizer’s grip loosened, the violence simmering down into something more restrained.

Rizer didn't need to say it out loud, but the implication was clear: no matter how hard Kain fought, Rizer would always find a way to pull him back, to dig his claws in deeper. And there was a comfort in knowing he didn't have to hide anything- not from Rizer, not ever. All Kain could do was stare at the man in front of him, His Hand slipping from Rizers wrist and dropping to his thigh.

The ambient light seemed to dull, the colors in the room fading to a muted background as Kain’s world narrowed to the pressure encircling his throat. Rizer’s grip slowly relaxed, the tension in his fingers And Kains jaw easing as he pulled back, Rizers expression flickering with a rare hint of restraint. He didn’t want to push too far—not yet.

“may I?” Rizer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, Kains eyes drifted from Rizers to his light pink tie, before absentmindedly rubbing the callous on his thumb with his forefinger “do whatever you want.” Kain grunted. Rizers fingers glided lower, slipping beneath the torn hem of Kain’s tank top, lifting the fabric slowly, his touch light and lingering.

Beneath the skin was defined muscle, a thin waist from an undoubtedly unsatisfactory diet, but strong and defined nonetheless. Kain stiffened as he felt Rizer’s eyes survey his abdomen. An ugly wound, The gash was violent, a jagged tear that ran across Kain’s stomach, hastily closed with nothing more than a few crude staples-barely enough to hold the skin together. The skin was inflamed, red and swollen, with dark, congealed blood seeping from the edges. It looked barely stitched, as if Kain had been in too much of a hurry to care whether it was done properly. It was the kind of wound that should have left him bedridden—or dead.

Kain’s collarbone dipped delicately above his chest that heaved slowly as he tried to control his breathing. His blood thrummed in his ears and he felt his breath pick up when Rizer.

"Kain," Rizer drawled, his voice taking on a saccharine lilt that made Kain’s head spin, the attention feeling like a spotlight burning into his skin. Each beat a reminder of how close he was to unraveling, but he kept his face tight, eyes fixed on anything but Rizer. He could feel every brush of Rizer’s fingers as they traced the jagged wound on his abdomen, the touch cold and electric, sending a jolt of pain mixed with something he didn’t want to name.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time. What were you thinking, coming here like this? Were you trying to die, or did you just want me to see?” Rizer leaned in, his breath skimming Kain’s cheek, close enough that Kain could almost feel the words sink beneath his skin. “Or do you just enjoy the pain?”

Kain’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding as he fought the impulse to flinch, to back away from the intensity of Rizer’s gaze. The room felt too small, the walls closing in, every nerve in his body strung tight and screaming for release. The words clawed their way out, rough and bitter. “This ain’t a fucking show. Just stitch me up, and I’ll leave.”

Rizer hiked his tank top higher. He hooked his thumb through the fabric and rested it at the base of Kain’s Adam apple to keep it in place. Kain swallowed.

“Oh of course, I’ll stitch you up, and you can go back to your brawling, then you can return to spill your insides all over me again. Is that what you want? Are you going to keep barking at any helping hand like a dog without an owner?” Rizer’s voice rose in its inflection gradually, first coming across as its usual thinly veiled mockery, but there wasn’t humour in it—something about it felt tense, desperate.

Kain’s glare faltered, Rizer’s eyes gleamed, savoring the sight of Kain so exposed. It was proof that no matter how strong Kain pretended to be, he could still bleed, still break, still need someone to put him back together.

“You should’ve gone to a hospital,” Rizer murmured, his voice low. He pulled back just enough to look Kain in the eyes, his smile twisted with something uncomfortably close to genuine concern, though it was tainted. “But I suppose that’s too simple for you. No, you’d rather bleed out here, wouldn’t you? Bleed out in front of me. It’s almost poetic.”

Kain swallowed, his throat dry as sandpaper. He tried to muster the strength to snarl back, but all that came out was a ragged, breathless laugh. “Yeah, real poetic,” he rasped, his voice dripping with sarcasm despite the tremor that crept into it.

Rizer just smiled tilting his head, as red strands obscured his eyes His fingers hovered just over the torn staple, his touch more intimate than any caress. It was invasive, violating in the way Rizer always was, slipping past every barrier Kain tried to put up.

and then, with a deliberate slowness, he hooked his fingers under the first staple, feeling the metal bite into his skin. He tugged, the movement sharp and unkind,The staple, already half-embedded in swollen, inflamed flesh, caught against Rizer's touch and tore free with a sickening pop, blood welling up and spilling over Rizer's fingers.

Kain's breath hitched, but he didn't flinch, his body rigid as he endured the sharp, stinging pain. Rizer watched him closely,

“Did that hurt?" Rizer asked softly, his voice a low, mocking purr, though his eyes gleamed with genuine curiosity. before he pressed his palm against the angry, swelling edges of the wound. The skin was hot under his touch, feverish, and Kain held his breath, his body instinctively jerking back. “no it fucking tickled.”

"One down," Rizer said, his voice infuriatingly cheerful as He flicked the bloodied staple to the floor, Kain grimaced, deciding he won’t make another sound for the satisfaction of this fucking piece of—

Rizers hand dipped into the wound, his fingers burying themselves deep into the torn flesh as he began to pull out the staples one by one. Kain's body jerked, his muscles spasming in response to the sudden intrusion, but he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, Rizer's movements were slow, deliberate, each tug of a staple accompanied by a cruel twist of his fingers, The wound gaped wider with each staple removed, and Rizer's hand delved deeper, his fingertips brushing against torn muscle and raw, bleeding tissue. Kain's teeth gritted together, the pain a constant, burning reminder of his own recklessness.

“Really, I might as well just stitch together a cadaver.” Rizer sighed, as if he was the one in pain.

A few staples later, Kain was half passed out and sprawled haphazardly on Rizer’s chair, breathing hard and sweat running down his chin and down to the hollow of his throat. Rizer watched Kain as he attempted to sit up.

Rizer sighed again, watching Kain struggle with his head hung low. He peered through his bangs above spectacles. “You don’t know, do you?”

“...What?”

Suddenly, Kain felt a sharp, ice hot fire travel from his navel to his throat. Kain could barely suppress a groan. He made a strangled noise in his throat.

“This,�� Rizer’s finger swirled in the open wound indicatively, “would have killed you if it was 3 centimeters to the left.” His finger plunged deeper as Rizer put his lips to Kain’s ear, his free fingers once again finding Kains throat, tilting his head back “A wound of this depth,” Rizer inched further in, “would cause hepatoma.”

“Do you know what would happen next?” Rizer murmured in Kain’s ear, lips brushing against skin with every word.

Rizer added a finger. “Do you?”

"Fuck!" Kain's entire body tensed, a strangled sound escaping his throat as Rizer's fingers twisted and dug, violating the tender tissue. the sound echoing in the small, sterile space. The pressure behind Kain’s eyes built, hot and relentless, his heart pounding erratically in his ears. He could feel Rizer’s fingertips grazing organs he wasn’t ready to lose, violating spaces no one was meant to touch. His body jerked involuntarily, and before he could stop himself, his hand shot out, gripping Rizer's shoulder with a desperate, crushing force. His fingers dug in, squeezing hard enough to hurt, and for a split second, Kain was utterly exposed-his eyes screwed shut, his face twisted in a mix of agony and anger, breaths coming in ragged gasps. “I don’t fucking—know!”

Rizer held Kain’s gaze, his eyes deep and disarming. His smile was soft and his eyes glazed over as he arched his fingers against the warmth of Kains wound just enough to elicit another sharp, guttural groan from Kain. his head falling back, He squeezed his eyes shut, the sting of unshed tears blurring his vision as Rizer’s fingers probed deeper, his grip on Rizers shoulder tightened to the point of desperation. Kains head pounded, the pressure building behind his temples as he focused on the dull throb of his heartbeat, on the icy burn of Rizer's hands invading his body, on anything but the searing humiliation of it all.

“You’d die.”

The sound that tore from his throat was unrecognizable, a guttural mix of fury and something bordering on panic—something Kain hadn’t felt in a long time. He could feel Rizer’s breath against his ear, taunting, his words drifting like poison into Kain’s mind.

There was a ringing in Kain’s ears. he felt his reactive tear ducts fill his eyes with moisture. He squinted through the haze as Rizer dragged his fingers along the wound, feeling the raw, open flesh give beneath his touch, slick and warm with fresh blood, Kains muscles twitched around Rizer like they were sucking him in, urging him to go further, eager to uncover everything Kain kept buried beneath skin and bone. If Rizer could, he'd crawl inside Kain completely.

Rizer's mind wandered as his fingers moved slowly, brushing against Kain's trembling muscles, He imagined what it would be like to go further to crawl inside Kain completely, to be surrounded by the heat and pressure of his insides. wrapping his fingers around Kain's heart, feeling the powerful, rhythmic thump beneath his grip, each beat a fragile promise of life that only he controlled. Rizer would take over entirely, squeezing just enough to force Kain's blood through his veins, keeping him alive by sheer will and touch.

Rizer's breath hitched at the thought, a thrill coursing through him at the idea of being the sole force that kept Kain's heart beating, the only thing standing between Kain and life. He wanted to be the one to pump Kain's blood, to dictate every beat, every breath-Rizer's hands would be Kain's lifeline, his only means of survival. He craved that power, that intimacy, to make himself the singular point of dependence Kain could never escape. The thought of having Kain's entire existence in his grasp made Rizers fingers jolt with barely restrained hunger, a craving to possess him from the inside out, to be the one Kain needed just to keep living.

Rizer hovered close, an itching heat flaring in his chest, his breaths growing shallow as his excitement twisted into something raw and feverish, nearly vibrating out of him. His movements were slow, twitchy, every bit of restraint slipping. He leaned in, his breath icy against Kain's cheek, inhaling the scent of sweat and blood that clung to Kain so intensely. Kains breath caught as Rizer’s lips skimmed his jaw. It felt like worship, but beneath it was a searing intent that made Kain’s skin prickle, Rizers breath trembled with a manic edge as he traced his lips across Kains trembling jaw.

Every press and drag of Rizers lips a desperate act of possession; the coldness of his breath and the faint smell of mint was sobering, Kains breath stuttered, and his teeth parted. Rizers free hand moved with purpose, gliding up the curve of Kain’s neck. His fingers spread wide, sprawling over Kain’s nape as though claiming territory, each touch heavy and deliberate. Kain’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his breath catching as Rizer’s thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw before sliding up, brushing against the two gold piercings in Kain’s right ear with a teasing pressure. He lingered there, thumb grazing the metal, his touch a mix of control and familiarity, as if the coolness of the piercings were something only Rizer had the right to feel.

Kain’s eyes fluttered shut, and for a brief, stolen second, he let himself feel it all—the chill of Rizer’s breath, the insistent pressure of his hands, the invasive intimacy. His fingers twitched, aching to respond, to lash out or to pull Rizer closer, but all he could do was sit there, breath ragged and pulse wild, as Rizer’s touch branded him in ways Kain didn’t know how to fight.

Kain's waist jerked, a sharp, involuntary movement, his attention being brought back to Rizers other more occupied hand, slick with blood, digging his nail ever so slightly into kains wound, Rizers own restraint slipping through his fingers like sand.

This seering agony was familiar, Kain spent a lifetime being undone by forces beyond his grasp, torn apart by an unforgiving world, but here, with Rizer, Kain chose this -chose the pain, the tearing, the pulling. it was a more gentle and loving violence. He knew exactly when and how he would come apart. It felt like an embrace, all-consuming, unconditional. He allowed Rizer to pry into parts of him that felt too jagged to be held. Rizer saw the unlovable in Kain, the scars and aggression and instead of recoiling, he reveled in it.

Rizer's lips trailed down, his breath cold and ragged as he moved from Kain's Jaw to his neck, pressing open- mouthed kisses against sweat-slick skin. His fingers relax slightly in kains stomach. The pain was dull and constant now instead of sharp and seering. A strained groan tore from Kain’s throat, his body twitching and skin flushed beneath deep brown. It was a sensation he’d never felt before, It was as if Rizer was digging past flesh, past bone, clawing his way into Kain’s very soul, replacing every sensation with himself. his muscles clenching beneath Rizers hands, fighting back but never truly pushing him away.

Kain let Rizer in—let him break and bend and dig. Rizer knew Kain saw him for what he was. And Kain didn’t care. He took it all, swallowed it whole, unbothered by the depravity. It was almost laughable how easily Kain saw through him, dismissing Rizer’s carefully constructed show as if it was just background noise. Kain was unbreakable, the one person who could take everything Rizer was and not shatter under the weight.

Rizer's mouth found Kain's collarbone, his lips brushing against the curve of his shoulder before sinking his teeth in with a sudden, feral bite.

Kain's body went rigid, a restrained sound escaping him, Rizers mouth twitched as if savoring a private joke. His fingers curled, the slick heat of blood coating his hand until Rizer felt it-a hard, jagged edge buried within the flesh. His eyes widened, the realization sending a jolt of excitement through him.

Rizer's movements became more invasive and insistent as he slipped two more fingers in, prodding the object, feeling the sharp bite of glass scraping against bone and tissue. Kain's body jerked at the intrusion, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white threatening to rip the fabric of Rizers suit from his shoulders,

The fresh pain of Rizers teeth sinking into him grounded Kain back to Rizer, his bite lingered, the numbing coolness and the sting of mint from Rizers mouth on his skin mixed with the brutal, unyielding pain of the glass lodged in his wound.

Rizer pulled back, his breath heavy, his eyes gleaming with something unhinged before composing himself, licking the blood from his lips with a satisfied hum. "Now you've got something from me too." He pressed his fingers to the fresh bite mark, smearing the blood with a casualness that made Kain's eye twitch.

The room felt dimmer and smaller somehow, the earth seemed to have stopped spinning and seemed to have hurtled towards the sun and exploded in a split second at the same time. Rizer’s brows were in a slight frown, as if he were confused at what he was doing, like he was lost. His lips were parted and he panted noiselessly as he drank in Kain with his eyes. There was deep red smeared across Rizers mouth, across Kains torso and dripping down his shoulder. They were covered in it. and it glistened in the warm heat of Rizers office. Their breaths mingled, their forms casting a deep shadow in the office.

and finally Rizer withdrew his hand from the warm comfort of Kains flesh, slick with blood, Kain’s body tensed, muscles contracting sharply around the sudden emptiness, every nerve still raw and buzzing from the violation. Kain’s chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath, every inhale rattling painfully in his throat as Rizer’s fingers slipped free, extracting the piece of glass. It was jagged and blood-slick, glinting ominously in the dim light. He held it up between his fingers, admiring it like a prize. a reminder of some brutal encounter that Kain had tried to patch over with staples like a third grade art project.

“Glass,” Rizer murmured, his voice low and tinged with awe. “You’ve been walking around with this inside you…” Amusement danced in his tone, unable to hide his fascination.

“Want to keep it?” Kain rasped, still recovering from what happened only moments ago, still somehow managing to be a smartass despite it all.

Rizers lips curled into a sly smile teetering on the edge of a laugh. He held the bloody shard up like it was some kind of trophy, tilting his head as if inspecting a fine work of art.

“Oh, absolutely,” Rizer hummed, feigning deep thought. “I’ve been looking for a new paperweight. Really ties the office together, don’t you think?” He gave Kain a mischievous look. “But honestly, I’m more of a ‘collect the whole set’ kind of man. Do you have anything else in there? Keys, coins, maybe a lucky rabbit’s foot?”

Kain’s eyes were glassy, struggling to focus as his vision swam in and out. His head lolled back against the waiting room chair, movements sluggish and unsteady. He winced, clutching his side, blood seeping between his fingers, the pain pulling him back just enough to force words past his cracked lips. “Yeah… sure… I’m a goddamn piñata,” he rasped, voice weak and slurred, dripping with half-hearted sarcasm.

Rizer’s smile flickered, eyes narrowing with a mix of amusement and something sharper setting the bloodied glass shard aside, his eyes never leaving Kain’s. as he watched his grip on consciousness slip, his head rolling forward, his eyelids heavy, fluttering dangerously close to shutting. Without warning, Rizer reached out, his bloodied fingers gripping Kain’s face, firm and insistent. He tilted Kain’s head back up, forcing their eyes to meet. “Stay with me, Kain” Rizer chided, his voice dripping with playful menace, as if Kain’s slipping consciousness was nothing more than an inconvenience.

”I can't have you wandering off now.” Rizer murmured, his tone light, teasing, He tapped Kain’s cheek, a mockingly gentle slap that stung just enough to keep Kain tethered to the moment. his mouth twitched, caught somewhere between a snarl and a grimace, but he couldn’t summon the energy to respond, as Rizers thumb brushed roughly across Kain’s cheek, smearing blood in a deliberate stroke.

Rizer reached past Kain towards the desk beside him, where his surgical tools lay, Kain stared at Rizer’s shoulders and swallowed.

There were a few seconds of agony as Rizer readied his tools wordlessly. When he looked up and smiled at Kain, Kain felt the knot at the base of his stomach unravel and he inadvertently relaxed his frown. It was almost a pure smile, devoid of sin and held a childlike innocence. He couldn’t bare this side of Rizer.

Kain met Rizer’s gaze, his eyes hard and unwavering despite the pull of unconsciousness tugging at his senses. Rizers fingers once again found Kains jaw simultaneously as he reached for a bottle containing a clear liquid, his movements disturbingly calm and practiced. “Now, hold still,” Rizer said with a soothing smile.

There was no anesthesia, no warning as Rizer with a casual tilt of his wrist, poured disinfectant straight into the gash in Kain’s stomach. The burn was immediate and brutal, tearing through Kain’s daze and wrenching him back to the present.

Kain’s reaction was violent—his body convulsed like he’d been struck with a live wire, his back arching off the chair as a strangled, animalistic growl tore from his throat. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, nails biting into his palms, leaving crescent-shaped indentations in his skin. A muscle in his jaw twitched, locked tight against the pain, his teeth grinding together but Rizer’s grip kept him pinned, fingers pressing into Kain’s jaw with a steady, unmoving force.

Rizer moved quickly, seizing the needle and thread with a calm that bordered on unsettling. He set to work stitching Kain’s torn flesh back together, his abdomen twitched involuntarily with every sharp prick of the needle, muscles rippling under Rizer’s touch like a cornered animal trying to pull away. Rizer paused only to tighten the stitches, watching with a focused intensity as the wound pulled closed under his hands. Kain could feel the thread pulling his skin back together, a crude, makeshift fix that felt more like a binding than a healing—Kain’s vision blurred.

The rest of the stitching was done silently, aside from Rizer narrating his process through along the lines of, “and a cheeky loop here...you see, you need to join the noose with the convicted felon twice, and thus, you’ve got a secure stitch—Kain, are you listening? You need to learn how to do this since I can’t stop you from self-administering elaborate skin crochets and infections. Or you can just come to me, actually just come to me every time, don’t bother touching anything.”

By the end of it, Kain was just about to strangle Rizer, but he was grateful for his rambling. It was better than silence after what they’d done.

“Alright, all finished! And look, I tied a little bow at the end to make it all pretty,” Rizer clasped his hands together, looking pleased with himself.

“Fuck...the bow,” Kain’s voice came out breathless as he pushed himself up in the chair, Every movement felt heavy, his muscles dragging like he was wading through quicksand, leaning forward with his arms draped over his knees. The fresh stitches strained, blood oozing between the threads, but he didn’t seem to care.

Rizer wrapped white gauze around Kain’s abdomen. It’s color was stark against Kain’s deep russet skin. Kain obediently held his arms up with no complaints or witty quips. Rizer felt his mouth stretch as he clipped the gauze in place.

“You done playing doctor?” Kain rasped, his tone rough, each word forced through the fog of pain and adrenaline.

Rizer's grin never faltered. "For now," he said breezily, as he stood up in one swift motion, slowly wiping the blood from his hands, his movement methodical and unhurried. Stepping closer to the still seated man before discarding the dirtied cloth into the bin behind him. looming over Kain.

Kain’s body wavered, The blood loss was hitting him harder than he’d expected—He could feel his vision tunneling, black spots dancing at the edges,

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Rizer mused, his tone overly casual

He reached down, sandwiching kains cheeks between his fingers forcing his head upwards, Kain’s normally warm complexion had turned a sickly shade, his eyes glazed, unfocused, barely clinging to the present.

Kain’s eyes flickered, fighting to focus on Rizer, but every blink felt like a herculean effort. “I'm…absoulety fucking peachy…” he managed, voice slurred and weak, but the fire of defiance was still there. The world outside was brutal and relentless, but when it came to Rizer, Kain’s guard felt oddly willing to falter.

Rizer leaned down slightly, maneuvering kains face to the side. “You’re Always trying so hard to keep your head above water.” He spoke calmly “you can let go, i'll keep you up.”

Kain’s eyes snapped open, bleary and dark, his expression caught between anger and something far more vulnerable. swatting Rizer’s hand away with a weak shove, Kain braced himself, forcing his body to respond, muscles tense as he lurched forward to stand, but the room tilted violently. The ground rushed up, his vision narrowing as his legs gave out.

Rizer watched as Kain’s knees buckled, catching him before he could hit the floor. It was an uncharacteristically gentle gesture, but there was nothing kind in the way Rizer looked at him. He pulled Kain against him, feeling the heavy weight of his body sag into his own.

Kain’s breath hitched at the contact, the sharp chill of Rizer’s touch against his fevered skin “Get...off...” he muttered, the words were faint, more of a reflex than a command. His head lolled against Rizer’s shoulder, the fight draining from him as his eyelids fluttered. his hands clawed at Rizers arm, balling the fabric of his sleeve into a weak fist. His head finally slumping forward, resting in the crook of Rizer’s neck, where the world dulled, noises fading into a muted buzz. Each breath was labored, his muscles going slack as his vision smeared into darkness, the edges bleeding into shadows until the only anchor left was the hypnotic rise and fall of Rizer’s chest.

The beat of Rizer’s heart thrummed against Kain’s cheek—a steady, controlled rhythm that drowned out the pounding in his own ears. Rizers scent- a blend of something expensive, metallic and clean, a scent that cut through the lingering tang of iron and sweat. It was disorienting. Rizer’s hands were steady, his fingers curling into Kain’s back like they belonged there, claiming space without a word. His other hand secured Kain’s waist, fingertips pressing just enough to crease the fabric, Each touch was deliberate, pressing in with a quiet insistence.

Kain’s muscles slackened, and for a fleeting moment, his body betrayed him, leaning into the unnatural stillness of Rizer’s hold. The tension he carried like armor cracked, crumbling under the relentless weight of exhaustion. a faint groan escaping him as he fought to stay conscious, but the coolness of Rizer’s body and the intoxicating mix of pain and comfort was lulling him into a dangerous calm.

Kain’s eyes fluttered, a final, hazy effort to hold on, but his grip was gone, and he slumped fully against Rizer, consciousness fading. surrendering, if only for a moment, to the bitter comfort of being held together by someone else. like raw flesh bound by fraying string, fragile and blood- slick. Every breath threatened to pull him apart, his insides ready to spill at the slightest shift, the seams barely holding.

Rizer's embrace was the only thing keeping him from tearing open, a gruesome bind of skin and sinew that could unravel and spill out only if Rizer Willed it.

Rizer’s hold tightened, not letting an inch of distance form between them. He watched, feeling the faint but stubborn beat of Kain’s heart against his chest, Kain’s strength was still there, even in his weakness, and it only made Rizer’s hold tighten. As Kain’s resistance faded and his body went slack, Rizer shifted him effortlessly, slinging the much heavier man over his shoulder, feeling the weight settle comfortably against him savoring the rare stillness of Kain in his arms as he carried him up the staircase to his home above the clinic, his simmering thoughts twisted inside him, dark and thrilling—a reflection of affection that only Rizer would dare call love.

Rizer laid Kain gently on the plush, oversized sofa in his penthouse, a lavish room filled with eccentric trinkets and oddities that mirrored Rizer’s own warped sense of style. The space was a careful blend of opulence and chaos, a playground far removed from the sterile order of his clinic below. Large windows offered a panoramic view of the city, though heavy curtains were always drawn to block the light that his eyes couldn’t handle.

Kain’s limp body sank into the cushions, his tanned skin stark against the rich fabrics. Rizer stood over him, studying every detail—the rise and fall of Kain’s chest, the way his shirt clung to his muscular frame, and the grimace that lingered even in unconsciousness.

Kain’s stubbornness amused Rizer endlessly, how he’d rather let himself fall apart than show a moment of weakness. It was that tenacity, that fierce defiance against the world, that made Rizer’s chest tighten with something almost resembling affection. But it wasn’t just affection—it was possession, a desire to keep Kain close and helpless under his watch.

Kain stirred, his brows furrowing as he fought against the pull of unconsciousness. He was trying to wake up, to force himself back to reality, even as his body begged for rest. Rizer knelt beside him, running a cold hand down the side of Kain’s face, feeling the faint heat of his skin. Kain’s eyes opened a sliver, glassy and unfocused, his gaze locking onto Rizer’s with a mix of anger and disorientation.

“Still with me?” Rizer cooed, Kain’s muscles tensed instinctively, his voice was slurred and strained. “What...the hell are you doing?” Each word was labored. There was no deep introspection, no hidden turmoil—just anger, frustration, and the simple instinct to fight back.

Rizer chuckled softly, his fingers playing at the edges of Kain’s wounds as if testing the limits of his patience. “just wondering which organs to harvest first” He leaned in closer, his breath cold against Kain’s ear. “i think i'll go for the heart.”

“You’re a piece of shit,” Kain mumbled, every syllable dripping with annoyance, barely above a whisper as he slipped away. Rizer watched him for a moment, his own mind buzzing with curiosity. Kain was rarely still, rarely quiet, always brimming with an aggressive energy. But now, laid out and vulnerable, Kain was a different kind of fascinating—like an animal caught in a trap, still dangerous, still defiant, but subdued by the weight of his own fatigue.

Rizer settled beside kains head, slipping off his brown blazer, folding it neatly across his lap, content to watch over him as Kain drifted in and out of consciousness. Moonlight streamed through translucent curtains, and a faint breeze fluttered in the room. The moon cast a bluish glow on Kain’s face as he slept.

Rizer was enveloped deep in shadow. He did not move, and it looked as if he scarcely breathed. He watched the way Kain’s collarbones moved as he inhaled, he watched the way Kain’s fingers faintly twitched, the way his hip angled towards the right, the way his brow tensed, the way his lips parted.

Kain's skin was a deep, rich brown, making every scar, bruise, and line on his body more pronounced. His skin held a warmth and intensity that seemed to absorb the light. Rizer’s eyes hovered over Kain’s chest where his tank top rode up exposing his torso, Scars crisscrossed blossoming around his ribs and up his side, knife wounds, old burns, jagged lines that could only come from barbed wire or broken glass. all hastily stitched and healed the skin puckered and pulled tight. It was a nasty, ugly sight, and it told Rizer all he needed to know about how Kain treated his own injuries: with recklessness and utter disregard.

But it was the scar on Kain’s face that drew Rizer’s eyes back, over and over again. The large, harsh X that cut across the bridge of Kain’s nose, each line deep and defined, the metal staples embedded into his skin like twisted jewelry. It was an ugly, brutal mark, one that told of a time long past, when Kain was barely more than a kid thrown to the wolves. Rizer had dug up the files, pulled every string he could to piece together Kain’s life from the scraps left in official records—how he went to prison at twelve, how he came out harder, angrier, the scar on his face a permanent reminder of whatever horror had put it there. But the records never told the whole story, and Kain never volunteered it.

Kain’s breathing hitched slightly, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Rizer could see the strain beneath the surface, the way Kain’s ribs pressed against his skin with each breath. Despite his unconscious state, Kain was still fighting, his body tensed as if expecting a blow that never came.

Rizer knew that in this state, Kain was at his mercy. He could do anything—keep him here, stitch him back together, or let him bleed. Rizers gaze was soft, almost reverent, as if he were watching a sleeping god instead of a beaten man.