What\'s In A Dream?

“Riff?” A harried teen shot out of his bed. What time was it!? He was supposed to be woken up hours ago or, at least, that’s what the sun, hanging high in the sky, was telling him.

“RIFF!?!” Cain bellowed, almost rushing out of his bedchambers. At the last minute he remembered that he was not dressed. He slammed the door shut again harder than need be and it bounced off the door’s frame. He pulled the white bathrobe off its stand too suddenly and the metallic hanger fell with a loud clatter to the floor. Cain winced and quickly tried to restore it to its upright position. His hands were too shaky and his patience already thin, so he shoved it aside and the loud ringing noise as it hit the floor brought the sound of footsteps to his room. He dashed out of his bedroom and into the hallway.

“Riff?” Cain peered down the steps leading to his room and was highly disappointed to find a maid rushing up to greet him. She stared at him a little in shock and her cheeks went red as she sent her gaze pointedly to the closest corner of the ceiling. He looked down at himself and quickly shut his robe. “Where’s Riff?” he asked her, ignoring the awkwardness that was created by his moment of impromptu rush. It was his damned house after all, so why couldn’t he be naked in his own home!?

“I-I’m sorry, milord,” the young maid turned her blue eyes towards him in test. Finding him clothed enough, she faced him fully, “Riff has gone out to run some errands for you this morning.”

Cain huffed in exasperation and turned to go back into his bedroom, “Send Riff to me as soon as he gets home. I’m going back to sleep, so please do not disturb me. Watch Maryweather and make sure she is fully taken care of. Wait on her and, oh!” He looked over his shoulder at the maid, “It’ll be your paycheck if she comes in here and disturbs me.” With that the door clicked shut behind him.

He leaned against the door a bit in thought and sighed. After the footsteps had receded down the stairs, Cain approached a book that had fallen carelessly off his bedside table. He flipped through the pages once and tossed it back onto his bedside table, annoyed that he had kicked it off in his sleep and managed, thus, to successfully lose his page.

He plopped down on his bed with another irritated huff. How could Riff bother to run errands even before he had awoken his master? Some servant…

Cain lay down on his bed and sprawled out to stare at the white ceiling above his bed. He let his eyes lose focus as he yawned tiredly. Just when did he get to bed anyways? He rolled over and fell asleep, snuggled in the messy entanglements made by his bed sheets.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

“Let me go!” Riff’s voice resounded eerily off the stone walls and he fought a shudder that ran through his spine. He didn’t like it here at all…

“Hold him still!” A woman with dark brown locks commanded, her eyes, covered by fabric, were focused on the struggling man and it only served to unbalance his nerves more.

And Lord Cain…! How long had he been here? He was sure from the stinging ache throbbing at the nape of his neck that he had been dragged here unconscious. So… how long had he been out? Lord Cain was going to be upset…

“Keep him still!” her voice shrieked, and for a singular moment he stopped, “I cannot undo the hypnosis if he’s moving too much!” Hypnosis!? Oh, like that was going to calm him down!

He let out a sharp cry of pain as he felt his wrists clamped brutally in a crushing, vice-like grip. Riff squeezed his eyes shut to try to distill the hot tears burning in his eyes. He let them run down his face before fluttering his eyes open to see again. His body was readjusting itself to this new level of pain.

“Please! Let go!” he begged to the group of people surrounding him, “I need to get back to Master Cain!!!”

The connection of a solid fist to his gut was a rather unexpected result and Riff slid to the floor. The hands still holding him back were pulling his arms behind him without even a single offer of giving him room to be comfortable in his sunken position. He looked up, breathing hard, into the face of Doctor Disraeli, who was flushed with anger. Oh, Lord… Delilah!

“Stand him up,” a cool, cruel voice rolled through the room like a toxic fume and Riff suddenly found himself hoisted roughly to his feet. He stumbled to maintain his own weight as they rebalanced him.

“Now, now, Jezebel, you need to play nice.” A hand moved from under the flowing black cloak and removed the black hat from a top the man’s head.

“L-Lord Alexis!?” Riff choked.

“Card Master, this man’s will is getting to be too strong! I cannot undo the hypnosis.”

“Then let’s break it with a beating!” the joy in the voice sent shivers cascading down Riff’s entire body. He had heard that man’s voice before. It had once told Lord Cain to kill Riff, but only after he had been brutally slashed in the back of the head by a metal whip. Lord Cassandra… a man who truly thought the lower class was the scum of the earth.

A sharp cracking noise caused Riff’s eyes to swivel up to Cassandra. His new whip was metal and had sharp spikes attached to multiple areas along its spine. The hands holding him tightened in anticipation and Riff felt sick. Why would they want to use a whip, naturally used for repenting sins in the most devout Catholic sects, as a device of torture?

Alexis’ hand was up in front of Cassandra’s chest. “No.”

“No?” Cassandra’s shoulders drooped slightly in disappointment.

“No,” Alexis nodded once. “We need to remind him of where he came from.”

“W-What!?” Riff extended his head forward to get a better view of Alexis and he tried to search for some sympathy in those eyes… He found none. His mind was festering with images of the fire now… Lord Cain…?

“Moon.”

A relatively young-looking woman stepped forward. Part of her face was covered by a black mask as if she was planning on attending a masquerade of some kind. Her short, black hair complemented her sharp feminine features and played off the sensuality of her dark skin. Riff was unsure of what to expect.

She stepped towards Alexis and Riff only briefly caught sight of a metal glitter. Alexis was now holding something, but exactly what that item was he was unable to tell. Riff’s heart was thundering so loud in his ears now and it didn’t help none when she begun to approach him.

He struggled a little, but a sharp twist of pain in his wrists caused him to stop moving instantly. ‘Moon’, as she was called, stopped in front of Riff and he couldn’t help but flinch as her hand reached towards him. A slight ruffling of his shirt and the cold air nipped at his chest. He opened his eyes to find her gently removing the shirt from his chest.

In a few short scratches, she had his shirt hanging loosely on both sides of his chest. She shifted the fabric more to reveal the rose-shaped scar burned into his flesh. He looked into her eyes searchingly, but a cackling roar from behind her caught his attention. When he looked back down she was gone and the red flare glaring off the walls held his numbing mind fast.

Riff could hardly help but notice the wicked smile that had spread onto Lord Alexis’ face was only highlighted by the shadows cast from the flames. He truly took on the appearance of the Devil. Riff felt like he was going to die from the sheer fear thundering from every quickened beat of his heart.

“Are you ready, Riffael?” He wanted to say no, but his throat was too dry and all that came out was a slight choke.

But a scream tore out of his throat without the need of any liquid as the fire licked at his flesh. Riff’s eyes shut and he let the scream tear out of his throat as he felt the heated metal draw nearer and nearer. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his cheeks and he quickly was unable to clearly see his view of Lord Cain from behind his eyes. The little boy he’d found in the garden that day smiled at him before vanishing completely. He was back in the fire that had stolen everyone and everything from him. And there was… there was…!

Riff sank to his knees and the hands that had been binding him let him collapse to the cold, flagged floor.

The blind-sighted woman called ‘Justice’ squatted before him and lifted his bangs off a sweat-covered face. “Look into my eyes.”

Riff unwittingly looked up into her eyes in desperation to cling onto something. He was… he had… That fire had been his fault. Lord Cain wasn’t safe. He needed to… He had to tell someone to watch over him and guard him—

And then, just like that, all the thoughts floating in his head disappeared. He found himself focusing only on those white pupils glowing, piercing through him. Then even that sensation was gone. Justice held his head up until she started to see a change in the expression on the man’s face.

“He’s awake,” she commented, dropping his head and turning to pick up her fallen folds. She wrapped them around her eyes again and stood up to fall in place behind the Card Master. The cruel eyes looked upwards half-tiredly and Alexis grinned at the man before him.

“Welcome back, Riffael.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

The door unlocked with little effort of the key, but that just meant it had been already left in that vulnerable state. Probably had something to do with being kidnapped… But Riffael wasn’t complaining in the slightest. It had no impact on him whether it was opened or not, he had the keys to the house along with many others and knew which ones opened each of the different doors.

He crossed the threshold of the manor and placed his jacket on the coat rack in the hallway. A maid noticed him almost simultaneously and she smiled courteously as she approached him. “Lord Cain has asked for you, Riff. I’ve just made him some supper if you would like to take it up to him. It’s not much, but then… he won’t eat anything unless you’ve made it yourself.”

He took an overarching bow to hide his brief displeasure with the picky, little brat he served. When he stood up he had a smile in place and graciously took the tray from the maid before him. Perhaps Clyde had been right in the idea of his brother having a hidden, darker personality. He grinned inwardly; too bad that news didn’t really save him.

Riffael walked up the steps to Cain’s room and, as he approached, he could hear the sound of a high-pitched, female voice ranting. At the top of the steps, he saw none other than Maryweather herself emerge from Cain’s room.

“Where have you been!? He hasn’t been up all day!” she stormed past Riffael in anger, briefly brushing against his thigh. Muttering under her breath, with all the grace of the streets, about bathrobes being worn all day, lazy brothers, and servants who disappeared for nearly the whole day.

Riffael walked into the room and set the tray down on the dresser to the right of the entrance. Cain’s back was turned towards him, but the small clatter caught his attention as if it were fire to wood. “I thought I told you to—!“ he turned around, about ready to chuck his pillow at Maryweather when he noticed Riffael. “Riff!” his voice piped up in a more excited tone.

Cain clambered off his bed and ran to his trusted manservant. Riffael cocked his head to the side and he couldn’t help but notice the white delicacy of Cain’s legs as the bathrobe flowed over them. He flinched slightly as the younger man ran straight into his chest. His sharp intake of breath went unnoticed as Cain was too excited to see ‘Riff’. Wrong one…

“Where have you been all day?” Cain demanded, slightly pounding Riffael’s chest in his exasperation. Riffael twitched in annoyance, but managed to hold back his boiling anger. It was just like playing with Lucinda— he needed patience.

“I’ve been… busy.” Riffael threw caution to the wind without hesitation. He knew all too well that Cain would hardly be concerned with the minute matters of the estate that Riff sometimes carried out. Why would he care, for instance, about bills that were being paid unless they were late or being cheated out of money? Even then, he seldom seemed to care.

“What do I pay you for?” Cain sighed, looking up with golden-speckled, green eyes.

“Apparently, nothing, milord.” Riffael grinned wildly down into the face looking up at him.

“Riff?” His voice was laced with concern and the slightly raised eye brow only helped to emphasis this case. Genuine concern… cute.

Riffael seized Cain by the arms and Cain let out a startled cry of pain at the impact. He was slammed roughly back against his bed and Riffael shot him a warning look before crossing over to the door. Cain scooted to the edge of the bed as Riffael went and locked the door. He faced Cain who had now started approaching him again.

“Riff…?” Cain asked, cautiously. His pale hand reached towards Riffael’s face, but Riffael closed one of his hands around Cain’s wrist and dragged the young teen against his body. He bent his head down and placed a crushing kiss against Cain’s lips.

“What are you—?”

Riffael pulled Cain back into the bruising kiss and Cain moaned as he was forced to his knees by the sheer force. He was unsure what to think and his mind was running everywhere with questions and feelings. What was wrong with Riff? Why had he locked the door? Why was he using this much force? What was he going to do? Was he going to die!?!

“How unfair.” Riffael interrupted his thoughts, looking down into Cain’s worried face. He stroked the black locks that fell against his pale forehead and planted a kiss where his hair parted to expose the flesh. “That I do nothing for you! How inconsiderate of you to not even pay me back!”

“R-Riff?” Cain felt Riffael’s hands slid underneath his buttocks and he was lifted into the air over Riff’s shoulder. He let out a startled yelp as his bathrobe fluttered about his ankles. But before he could fully register what was going on, much less, what to do, he was slammed carelessly against his bed. Riffael poised himself above Cain and smiled down into the searching, questioning eyes.

Riffael slammed his mouth down over Cain’s and the startled choke gave him room for entrance. Riffael slid his tongue smoothly into Cain’s mouth and automatically rolled tauntingly up the ridge of Cain’s upper mouth. The body below him shuddered and Riffael felt Cain’s legs on either side of him tense a little.

Diving his tongue in a bit deeper, Cain gagged on Riffael’s powerful presence and moaned as he closed his eyes to hold in the tears that were willing themselves upon him. All the same, Riffael hardly seemed to be concerned with whether Cain had moaned in pleasure or pain and whether or not he cried. He pushed his lips more rousingly against Cain’s and licked at Cain’s own tongue. The saliva filling Cain’s mouth felt almost like an intoxicating poison with an aura composed of seduction.

Riffael pulled back and panted as Cain tried to gather air back into his partially shocked lungs.

“W-What are you doing?” he gasped.

Riffael smiled his soft, sadistic smile and slid his hand gently against Cain’s bare leg before running his hand up the robe. Cain let out a startled cry as Riffael’s hand closed around his groin causing a rather jolting feeling to roll through the younger man that translated into an arousal. Amusing…

“Help!” Riffael’s eyes lowered dangerously at Cain’s rather desperate, pleading cry. The young, pale hands were pushing uselessly against the bit of his arm that they could reach. Riffael dropped his weight onto his elbow near Cain’s head and Cain flinched with the fear of being hit. Employing the opportunity, Riffael slammed his hand over Cain’s mouth. Panicky, green eyes glistened gold with fear as they swiveled to stare into his.

“Ah ah!” Riffael soothingly coaxed, running his other hand through Cain’s black locks. He pinned Cain’s scratching arm back down to his side, then he leaned closer to the teen’s ear, “Only scream my name— if you know it, that is.”

Riffael let Cain’s arm go and the boy’s arm shot up to try and rip at Riffael’s flesh. Twice, Riffael was forced to stop undoing his own pants to pin down the arm that had torn scratches into his flesh. His eyes flashed angrily and his hand was becoming moist with the tears falling out of pools of green. Riffael finally got himself free as Cain tried to wipe away his tears with his left hand. He brought his other hand from under Riffael’s arm and pushed his palms into the sockets of his eyes.

Leaning forward, Riffael examined the tie that was keeping Cain on the borderline of decency. He removed his hand from Cain’s mouth and begun to undo it as sobs erupted from the trembling body beneath him.

“Please…” Cain whispered in a shaky breathe, “Please, Riff, no…”

Riffael pushed his mouth over Cain’s again and Cain kissed back. No doubt a passion created by lust and his need to bring Riff back to his senses. Throw in the confusion and Cain’s nerves had to be shot, leaving only an erratic brain with random thoughts and, thus, irrational reactions.

Cain’s hands were clenched onto the bed as he was rolled upwards onto his back. He choked out a couple more weary sobs and Riffael had to laugh at the words it sprung to mind, ‘I’ll never cry again’. Of course not! Why should Cain ever cry again when there was a whole organization with the need to kill him and those he loved dear? He felt a strong pull at his heart and he gritted his teeth as he massaged out the pain mentally. What the hell was that?

Riffael jammed himself roughly into Cain, who let out a piercing shriek as Riffael slid himself deep and slowly within him. He grimaced slightly at how hard it was to actually penetrate the teenage boy. Cain let out a shuttering gasp and his hands balled up tightly as Riffael hit a couple nerves inside him. The pain and the pleasure raced through his body and he shivered at the sensation.

He felt Riff slide out of him before diving back in and he squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the skin inside tear from the force. He winced and bit his lower lip. “You’re not Riff,” he panted as Riffael slid out of him again, “You’re not—“

His piercing cry of pain was brutal on Riffael’s ears and his head, so he pushed his lips over Cain’s again to swallow the scream. He closed his eyes trying to force himself deeper into Cain. He could feel blood from within the boy encase around his cock and the sensation caused him to shudder. But it caused him some alarm as it slid down between his penis and testicles. The tickling, slow movement of the blood festered into a sort of tingling sensation at the base of his shaft.

Riffael’s face flushed as he groaned in arousal. Cain moaned at the nerves Riffael was breezing against, “G-Give me back Riff, you monster!”

Cain’s sudden anger caused him to tighten his muscles around Riffael, making it harder for him to move through the boy. He shuddered and huffed with the effort of drawing himself out from Cain. Cain let out a cry of shock and the anger in his eyes vanished as fast as it came to be replaced by pain. Riffael thrust himself within Cain again and Cain arched his back with the roll of Riffael against his nerves.

Riffael was leaning over Cain’s body now, thrusting almost mechanically. He felt driven by a basic, carnal desire to be buried within the body beneath him. His groin pulsated and he groaned as he pushed himself in again. The pinching sensation at the base of his cock was no where near helping and the blood was beginning to dry between his legs. His chest was rising and falling with the action required in maintaining his dominance physically and mentally.

His fingers closed around Cain’s messy sheets and he started picking up the speed. His head was spinning faster and it was making him nauseous. If he did not reach climax soon he was going to lose his mind. He groped around in his mind for some sort of hold and managed to draw up something his father had told him, ‘if you’re losing control of your balance, try focusing on one thing’. Riffael’s eyes focused on Cain’s pained, twisted form.

The pale skin was soaked with sweat, some of which, Riffael was sure, was his. He had a look of pain across his features and his eyes were closed tightly as if in an effort to make him disappear. A book… he had read a book like that once. The world started to swim again, so he pressured his attention to remain on the boy beneath him.

He managed to hit the nerves again and Cain gasped in the intense pleasure it caused to rack through his body. His body unconsciously moved closer to Riffael and the moment of pleasure and shock that came through every fiber of Cain transferred over to Riffael. He felt the heat move through his penis as he released himself within Cain’s shuddering body. Cain made a noise of startled shock and his poor, confused nerves sent him over the edge too.

Riffael groaned, annoyed, at the semen against his lower abdomen. He jerked himself out of Cain and the black-haired teen’s breath stuck in his throat. Riffael used the lower portion of Cain’s robe to wipe himself clean of the semen and blood on his lower body. He was less than pleased when he had a harder time scrubbing the nearly dry blood off with the sticky semen as a sort of loosening agent.

Cain lay sprawled, panting, tears welling up in his eyes. He was staring at the ceiling fixedly. Riffael smirked slightly realizing how hard Cain was trying not to cry.

“Have a good night, Lord Cain.” Riffael zipped his fly and got off the bed, laughing, as he walked out into the hall. As he closed the door behind him, he heard a sob erupt from the previously tightly closed lips.

He ruffled in the pocket of his shirt and pants, and then groaned in annoyance. Why couldn’t Justice have given him a personality who didn’t mind smoking? He was halfway through the thought when he felt a tug at his heart again. His right hand shot up to his chest and he groaned. What was it now?

R-Remorse!? A part of him felt the urge to turn around and go comfort the crying 17-year-old boy upstairs. He needed him. The boy had never known love before and he had done something like that!? What was wrong with him!?!

“Shit.” Riffael commented out loud, realizing that, for all his struggling, Justice had been unable to fully remove the hypnosis.

Riff panted and turned to look up the stairs, his right hand was holding him up against the wall. He could feel in his heart that Lord Cain was curled up on his bed crying his eyes out. Riff forced his tired body up the stairs and to the door of his master’s bedroom. He pushed it open and stood there a while, trying to maintain any sense of balance he had in this world, “L-Lord Cain?”

“R-Riff…?” Cain sobbed, turning his head slightly over his shoulder to look at Riff.
Riff forced, or rather fell, his way over to Cain’s bed. He sat on the edge and the teenager instantaneously clung onto him for dear life.

“I-I had a nightmare…” Cain sobbed, “You-You… but not really you—“

“Sh sh… it was just a dream.” Riff hugged Cain’s head to his chest and stroked the wet, black hair. Cain kept shaking like a frightened child in his arms, crying, until his body finally gave in to the need to rest.

Riff moved slightly to shift himself from falling off the bed and at the same time not leaving Cain. He picked up the boy and sat down, placing Cain in his lap. However, his hand connected with a wet spot on Cain’s robe. He froze slightly and began to examine it in the moonlight. Blood…? And… His face paled.

“No…” the realization of what may have occurred to Lord Cain while he was away was beginning to dawn on him. This laughing sound in the back of his cranium was hurting his head. He winced, “No, it was a bad dream… wasn’t it?”

A hand rested against his shoulder and he didn’t respond, “Would you like to forget again, Riffael?” The female who whispered in his ear touched his face and he ignored the gentle laugh that followed the question.

Riff nodded numbly, holding Cain to his chest. He couldn’t focus on anything but the young earl who lay asleep in his arms. He closed his eyes, “Please…?"