Fifty Shades of Phantomhive

Chapter Nineteen

Adrian was kneeling on the floor. He was naked. He stared at the ground. Vincent's feet in front of him. He longed to kiss them. He longed to run his tongue over them and suck each toe individually. Adrian hadn't realized his fascination with feet. He reached out to touch them, unable to control himself. He leaned down to kiss Vincent's feet. He longed to look up and stare at his reaction.

"Get up," Vincent ordered. "Sit on the bed, lean back, close your eyes." Adrian did so. He felt Vincent's fingers place a face mask over his eyes. He felt the familiar weight of shackles on his wrists and ankles. He wasn't going to be able to move today. That was fine.

Music echoed in Adrian's ears. The excitement built up within him. He was filled with longing, anticipation, a need for Vincent Phantomhive to touch him. Fur, it felt soft, ran down Adrian's body. It touched him in a multitude of places. Adrain's head lulled to the side. He wanted Vincent more than ever. This was a cruel tease.

But that wasn't what was happening. No, that was a blissful dream Adrian had the night before. That's what he wanted, pleasurable pain. That wasn't what he was going to get. Now he was in this room, without having done the proper preparation, fully clothed, and staring at Vincent Phantomhive. "Show me," Adrian whispered. "Show me how bad it can be. How much it can hurt. I need to know. Punish me."

"Are you ready for this? Truly?"

Adrian nodded.

"Bend over the bench," Vincent gestured.

Adrian did so.

The atmosphere changed. Adrian was scared of it, but only slightly. He couldn't see behind him and he could feel the bathrobe shift, revealing his ass. "Count," Vincent ordered. The sounds of a cracking belt against him. This wasn't like being spanked. This was a whole new sensation. He was out for punishment, not pleasure.

"One," Adrian said. The sound, the feeling, of a cracking belt against his skin. He cried out. It hurt. It hurt so badly. Fear. Fear pushed through his existence.

"Two." The pain of it again. He could feel the blood rise to his skin. He might be bleeding.

"Three." Tears rested on the edges of Adrian's eyes. This was hard. It was hard for him to do. Vincent wasn't holding anything back. He'd asked that of him. But, now he was reminded of his own childhood trauma. Did Vincent experience this? Adrian had. He remembered the image of his father towering above him with a knife in hand. For science. He had always told Adrian that. For science.

"Four," Adrian yelled. It angered him that he thought of his father. It angered him that he cried. His ass felt as if it was on fire.

"Five." He couldn't handle this. This wasn't even the worst of it, was it? Some part of Vincent was still holding himself back. He could feel that much in the air.

"Six." The belt dropped. Adrian collapsed on the ground. He looked over at Vincent. A pained expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," Vincent looked away. "I'm so incredibly sorry. You shouldn't associate with me, truly, Adrian. Don't force yourself. As much as I am sorry, I still feel the incredible thrill of punishing someone," Vincent placed his hand on his face. His eyes clouded over. His lips turned upward. A sadistic expression. Adrian had seen it once before. That night they had dinner. "It's abuse, not even borderline abuse. I hurt people and I feel such pleasure in it. One day, I'll meet the perfect masochist. A human that loves to be tormented day in and day out," Vincent lifted his hands to the ceiling, gesturing for gods or God to grace him with that human one day. "The perfect combination. A man that can't help but harm people. A human that can't help but want to be harmed."

Vincent turned in a circle, around the room he went, laughing as he did so. He was losing himself to the madness that he'd tried to hold back. There was no more hiding it for Adrian's sake. Adrian had asked him to unleash it. "Yes, yes," he spun around. "The need to be punished. The need for me to punish. How perfect of a match would that be? No fear of rejection. Just perfection. Two sides of the same coin melded into one," Vincent placed his hands together, intertwining his fingers.

"I've fallen in love with you, Vincent," Adrian's tears continued to pour down his face. Vincent stopped his musing. He took a step back from Adrian.

"What?" A raw, pure, undiluted fear in his eyes. He was terrified of the thought that someone loved him. How could anyone love a man as messed up in the head as he was? "No, no, Dri, you can't love me. That's so wrong," he was horrified. He shook his head. "No."

"Why?"

"Look at me," Vincent gestured to himself. "I can't make you happy. I can't do that. Just look at what I want to do to you. I want to torture you with all of my being. I want to see you bleed, scar, abused beyond belief. That isn't something a healthy person would seek out in a partner. No, Adrian, no, that's so wrong," Vincent shook his head. "I am not capable of loving you, not the way I am, I can't give or receive love, Adrian." Ah, so he knew that himself.

"That's okay," Adrian assured. He might've been terrified but the thought of losing Vincent was even more terrifying. Adrian didn't want to admit to himself that he enjoyed being tormented. Who would?

"No, it's not," Vincent ran his hand through his hair. He sighed. "You deserve someone better, Mister Crevan," he walked over to Adrian. He helped him to his feet. He escorted him out of the room covered in red.

"Diedrich," he called down the stairs. The man appeared in an instant. Vincent looked utterly broken, in agonizing pain, which ensured the decision that crossed his mind. Adrian didn't want it.

"Adrian, goodbye," Vincent let go. He pushed him gently forward. Adrian took one step down towards Diedrich. Vincent opened the door to his pleasure room again. "He will help you gather your things. He will take you home. I apologize, Mister Crevan," the door closed behind Vincent, ever so slowly, one fateful glance behind him, Adrian could see his sorrow. "I am not the man for you," he said. The door shut.

The only man Adrian had ever loved. The only man he'd ever slept with. A crippling pain went through his entire being. Head to toe, a longing for Mr. Phantomhive. "Vincent!" He cried, sinking to the floor in front of the room. He banged on the door. "Please don't do this! Please?" He didn't care if it was for his own good. He wanted Vincent Phantomhive. His thoughts had never changed. His hands slammed against the door repeatedly. He felt his knuckles bleed.

"Mr. Crevan," Diedrich grabbed his wrists. "Mr. Crevan, please, there is no changing his mind. Give him time, I promise you, I'll try my best to talk to him when the time is right." Adrian didn't stop. He kept banging on the door, crying Vincent's name. He struggled as Diedrich grabbed him and pulled him away by force. Diedrich's words of comfort weren't comforting at all. He struggled and he struggled until he was so tired all he could do was freeze. He stopped. He allowed Diedrich to help him down the stairs. To help him get dressed. To take him home.

"Vincent," Adrian sobbed, staring out the window of the car. His hands still bleeding, still in pain from slamming the door, but his heart was much more broken. "I just want to love you."