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“Is it loaded?”
Eiji was staring down the barrel of a gun, looking straight into Ash’s eyes, as if he wasn’t being threatened. Ash knew that Eiji wasn’t that brave—at least, not yet—and the tremble in his voice was audible. But, still, it was a strange first choice of questions.
“A gun is no use if it’s not loaded,” Ash deadpanned. Eiji nodded.
“I should have thought of that myself. Heh, sorry...” Again, with the apologies. Ash hated to hear him apologize so much. He was like a kicked puppy. Ash didn’t think he’d be able to stand someone like that, but Eiji...Ash never hated him for his excessive apologies. He only worried for him.
That’s why he was doing this.
“You’re unarmed and outmatched in both body and mind. There’s no way out. There’s a loaded gun being aimed at you, Eiji. What will you do?”
“I-I can’t really do anything,” Eiji said, not giving it much thought. His voice had relaxed compared to when he’d first spoken. Ash had thought that aiming it at him would be enough. Ash, why would you do that? Ash, are you really a bloodthirsty murderer after all? Maybe it’s not safe for me here.
Then again, he knew Eiji wasn’t the easiest person to deal with, despite his appearances. He had told himself that he’d figure out another way to get Eiji to comply, to fear him and hate him like he should—and, like always, he came up with a plan on the spot.
“Get on your knees.” Ash jerked his chin downward, and Eiji cocked his head, but complied, placing his hands in his lap once he was on the floor. Why, why, why did he trust Ash so much? Ash was afraid. Ash was afraid that he’d send Eiji back to Japan and he’d get deceived and sucked into some scumbag who was much worse than he was. But that was just an excuse, a last-minute justification to keep Eiji by his side. In truth, there was nobody worse than him. All he had to do was make Eiji realize it.
“Um...Ash? Why am I down here? If I can ask that...”
“I’ll tell you what to do if someone aims a gun at you and you have no other options.” Ash sat down on the edge of the bed, then put the gun flush against Eiji’s forehead. It was only then that Eiji looked visibly afraid. “You do what they tell you to.”
“Like...like Simon Says?”
Yeah. Like Simon Says. Ash had played this game many times throughout his youth, but the rules were different—there was no Simon, so he had to just do whatever he was told and pretend Simon had said it. Simon says lay on your back. Simon says open your legs. Simon says moan like you want it.
And now he was Simon.
Thinking about it like that made him ill, but this was different. He wasn’t doing this for his own sick pleasure, he was doing this because Eiji had given him no other choice. Eiji would have to hate him by the end of this. Eiji would hate him so badly that he would want to kill him. Ash knew that hatred well. He wanted Eiji to feel it, too. He needed Eiji to feel it.
“Unzip my pants, Eiji.”
He looked less scared, suddenly, but still on edge. He laughed. “Ash, this is kinda—”
Ash tightened his finger around the trigger. He knew exactly what force it took to pull it, and he knew he wouldn’t, but the feeling set his heart to racing anyway. More importantly, it made Eiji’s lips part in surprise, like reality was finally setting in. “What do you do when a gun is to your head and you have no other options, Eiji?”
“You—you do what you—”
He was shaking. The rabbit was shaking as the lynx loomed over him. “Don’t answer. Just do it.” Eiji unzipped Ash’s pants. Unbuttoned them, too, despite not being asked. Then, he sat back on his heels and waited, shoulders hiked up to his ears. He looked embarrassed. “Take it out.”
“Take what out?”
To his credit, he looked confused. So, Ash did it himself. He reached into the front of his underwear and untucked his cock, half-hard and rising. He held the gun steady as he did, and felt blood quickly rushing south when he looked at the black of the muzzle against the pale white of Eiji’s skin.
“There. Now...” Ash’s breath caught. Shit. Don’t hesitate. He needs to know you’re serious. “Suck it, Eiji.”
“I don’t know how.” Eiji’s voice cracked. His eyes flitted up nervously to Ash’s, then back down to Ash’s dick. “I’m s-sorry. I don’t—”
“Don’t apologize,” Ash snapped. “Put it in your mouth and figure it out.”
Ash pushed the gun forward, applying more pressure, and Eiji closed his eyes. Ash wondered if that was enough, if Eiji was already broken, but Eiji only nodded.
He blindly guided Ash into his mouth.
Ash hadn’t felt this in a long time. He hadn’t seen someone from this angle in a long time. He had never, ever seen someone this beautiful with their lips wrapped around him. He had never received head that was worse, either, but somehow that only made it better, because Eiji was trying so hard, with all of the desperation of someone giving head at gunpoint.
Or maybe the desperation of someone who’d wanted to do this all along.
Ash knew that Eiji liked him. That was why going this far was necessary; he wanted to take the image that Eiji had of him, the smallest bit of hope that his dreams would come true, and destroy it. Ash could see right into his head, could imagine what Eiji might have wanted from their first time. Kisses, cuddles, gentle touches and words. Ash had to crush it beneath his feet.
Keeping the gun to Eiji’s forehead, Ash pulled him down by his hair and fucked his face. Eiji gagged, grabbed at Ash’s kneecap, but didn’t stop moving his tongue, even with Ash’s dick pressed against it. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it felt good anyway. It was because it had been a while, Ash thought, and not because he had a gun held to Eiji’s head and was fucking his throat until he convulsed. Not because Eiji’s mouth was soft and warm and not because his muffled cries felt good when they reverberated through his bones.
He didn’t even want this to feel good. That wasn’t why he was doing it. He needed Eiji to hate him. He had to fuck him harder, keep that gun right up against him so he felt the threat of death driving him forward, grunt and moan and tell him how pretty he was so that those words would be etched into either side of his brain until the day he died, because he knew that those scars never went away and that Eiji would run, run, run as far away as he could once they had set.
Ash’s hand was starting to shake. He closed his eyes, not wanting to lose his composure. “Swallow it, Eiji,” Ash warned. Simon says swallow it all.
Eiji had no way of responding. He gripped Ash’s kneecap harder, but Ash didn’t react. He just kept thrusting, until the movement of his hips was out of his control and he was releasing himself on the back of Eiji’s tongue. Eiji kept whimpering, whining, until Ash could hear the sound of Eiji gurgling on his cum, spluttering and flailing.
Panicked, Ash released him, and Eiji scrambled backward—yet not too far, Ash noticed—and began to gag and spit, clutching his own chest. Ash wished he had kept his eyes closed; this sight was too much for him to handle. Eiji was red in the face, tears leaving streaks on his rosy cheeks and dripping off of his chin along with Ash’s cum. Ash sat still as a statue and watched. He didn’t know what else to do.
Eiji caught his breath, and Ash parted his lips, wondering if he should apologize. If he apologized, then Eiji surely wouldn’t forgive him, would he? No, he couldn’t possibly. If those men apologized to Ash now, it wouldn’t mean anything.
And yet, Eiji lifted his head, then whispered, “I-I couldn’t swallow it all. I couldn’t...I’m sorry, I didn’t...I couldn’t breathe. I’m sorry, Ash.”
“Eiji...” That was all he could say. Eiji.
Eiji wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then looked up at Ash with an emotion that Ash couldn’t name. He had the eyes of a beast. “I’ll do it right this time, so can I—can I try again?”
Something inside of Ash broke.
Eiji needed to go back to Japan.