Amateur Photography

Explicit
Rape/Non-Con
M/M
Rath and Rune - Jordan L. Hawk
Vesper Rune/Claude Maben, Vesper Rune/Sebastian Rath (background), Vesper Rune, "Creepy" Claude, Claude Maben, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Photography, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape/Non-con Elements, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Nudes, Non-consensual Striping, Tentacles

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Claude hadn't gotten what he wanted in the bathhouse, but he makes sure he gets it in other ways.

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Can't believe this is the first fic that gets posted to Ao3 for Rath and Rune

Everything is hazy, in a way he hasn’t properly experienced before. The closest Ves has ever come was in that damned hospital basement. There, everything had swum, for the few moments before he succumbed to dark unconsciousness. Here, though, it all wavers, a slow, sticky feeling of time itself moving molasses-slow. His tongue is fuzzy, mouth feeling stuffed full of cotton. Ves isn’t sure if it even opens when he moves his jaw, or if it’s stuck shut, the sensations are all entirely muted. 

“There you are, pretty thing.” A hand comes from nowhere, patting his cheek. “I was wondering when you would show back up for the party.”

Ves blinks, clumsy, slow, uncomprehending, the image before him refusing to come into focus for a few heart stopping moments. Finally, it solidifies into a man, older than Ves, weathered face and blue eyes staring at him with a familiar hunger. The whole man feels familiar, but Ves can’t seem to remember why. Can’t get his brain to pull itself free of the sticky tar it’s stuck in long enough to tell him who he’s looking at. 

“You thought yourself too good for me then, but now look at you, all gorgeous and here for me.” Those fingers run along his cheek again, this time up into his hair. A mockery of the way Sebastian caresses him. 

He gasps, moving in slow motion, tentacles behind him moving even slower. No. that’s… Wrong. Something is… 

His tentacles are out. The man before him is not Sebastian. Is not Noct, or Mortimer. Is not even one of Bonnie’s husbands. The man before him is not one of his and he has his tentacles out. 

Panic suffuses his veins, burning dull under the heavy fog of whatever has been done to him. Heart thumping, eyes widening. He can feel the fear build in his muscles, but he can’t move. Not really. All Ves can manage is a slow, wobbling shift. 

“Oh, pretty, don’t you worry about moving at all. I’m going to pose you just perfectly.” A hand takes hold of on tentacle, and drapes it over Vesper’s shoulder, an organic shawl. “Let me take care of it all.” 

Not that Ves has any choice in the matter. He tries to protest, and all that comes out is a strangled whine. A shutter clicks, and his blood, searing with fear, turns to ice. 

The man tuts. “Mh, let’s fix that expression of yours.” 

Ves’s face is touched, shifted and pressed at, until it’s in a form potentially recognizable as pouty seduction. The shutter flicks again, and the man smiles, wide and hungrier still. 

“Pretty young thing… Even prettier without that sheet.” 

It clicks then, finally, who the man is. Claude, he thinks, was the fellow’s name, from the bathhouse. What was it he had said? ‘I do some amateur photography. You’d be a perfect model.’ Claude had tried to catch a peek of Ves then, had tried to pull the sheet off and leave him entirely bare. He had escaped the interaction then, getting himself away while Claude ranted. It seems he had not been so lucky this time. 

“You were hiding more than a pretty cock and a pert ass, though.” Claude says, shifting Ves on the chair once more, arranging him into another pose. “Those extra limbs of yours are beautiful. I was right to take you as a model.” 

Vesper’s legs are nudged further apart, showing him off a bit more, adjusting two tentacles to frame it, to draw the eye to it. The shutter flicks again, and Ves flinches. As much as he can, anyhow. Nothing is moving as he wants it too. He cannot fight, cannot do anything but be loose and pliable for Claude to pose as he will. 

“These are even better than the ones I got while you were still asleep… You make such pretty sounds when you’re unconscious, dear boy.” The pit of cold fear grows larger. What else might Claude have done when he was unconscious? 

“But I think we ought to get you settled on the bed. Move on to the main event of our photography session, no?” Claude asks him as though he can answer. As though he would agree. 

Ves whimpers, a low unhappy moan, which only serves to make Claude’s smile grow further still. The chair he’s on gets dragged, until they’re close enough for Claude to shove his malleable body onto the bed. He lands in a heap of limbs, and hears a chuckle, before the shutter clicks once more. 

“I can’t just ignore such a pretty arse, now can I?” It’s paired with a pinch, and Ves wants to melt into nothingness. Terrified something more will be done while he’s hazy.

The hand that pinched him gets friendlier, palming one cheek and kneading, before exposing more of Ves, to the sound of another shutter flick. 

“No, it would be a shame to not capture all of this for eternity.” Another hand takes hold of one tentacle, and it’s moved, brought to rest against his hole in a way that might make him shiver in need with Sebastian, but only inspires greater fear here. 

“Now, let’s see just now many different ways we can photograph such a young pretty thing.”