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bakerstreet2016-12-19 01:53 am
ecchis) wrote in bakerstreet2016-12-19 01:53 am
taken from a prompt on rpanons
TRAPPED TOGETHER
a fuck or die smut meme
a fuck or die smut meme
You don't remember falling asleep, but now you're waking up, and it's nowhere familiar. The room is white from top to bottom, clean and sterile. There is no visible door or other means of escape. Fluorescent lights embedded in the ceiling provide the only light.
The room is mostly empty, but not entirely. A large monitor sits recessed into the wall opposite you. A chest of drawers sits on the wall to your left, and a closet in the wall to your right. You are sitting on a large, white bed, and you are not alone. Do you know this person? Are they a friend, an enemy, a lover? Or are they a complete stranger, someone you've never met before in your life. There is a strange collar around their neck, and with a start, you realize you have one on around your throat as well. Try as you might, you cannot remove it.
Whatever the case, the person you are stuck with is awakening as well, but before you two have time to so much as introduce yourselves, the monitor comes to life, and text appears on the screen.
YOU'RE FINALLY AWAKE.
THE GAMES WILL NOW BEGIN.
DO AS YOU ARE TOLD AND YOU WILL LEAVE ALIVE.
ONCE WE'RE DONE WITH YOU, THAT IS.
IGNORE YOUR ORDERS AND DIE.
DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CHEAT. WE WILL KNOW.
AND PLEASE, TRY TO HAVE FUN.
The room is mostly empty, but not entirely. A large monitor sits recessed into the wall opposite you. A chest of drawers sits on the wall to your left, and a closet in the wall to your right. You are sitting on a large, white bed, and you are not alone. Do you know this person? Are they a friend, an enemy, a lover? Or are they a complete stranger, someone you've never met before in your life. There is a strange collar around their neck, and with a start, you realize you have one on around your throat as well. Try as you might, you cannot remove it.
Whatever the case, the person you are stuck with is awakening as well, but before you two have time to so much as introduce yourselves, the monitor comes to life, and text appears on the screen.
YOU'RE FINALLY AWAKE.
THE GAMES WILL NOW BEGIN.
DO AS YOU ARE TOLD AND YOU WILL LEAVE ALIVE.
ONCE WE'RE DONE WITH YOU, THAT IS.
IGNORE YOUR ORDERS AND DIE.
DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CHEAT. WE WILL KNOW.
AND PLEASE, TRY TO HAVE FUN.
The message remains for a minute, just to make sure you both have time to read it, before fading away. Moments later, your first orders appear. Ignore them, and your collars will begin to constrict until you comply. Finish, and new orders will eventually appear. Between the chest of drawers and the closet beside the bed, everything you need is provided to you to perform, including toys, tools, special medications of various effects, and even food and drink.
Is your collar getting tighter? Better get busy. Remember, they're watching.
HOW TO PLAY
Is your collar getting tighter? Better get busy. Remember, they're watching.
HOW TO PLAY
- Comment with your character information and preferences in the subject, as usual.
- OOC communication is extremely important in this meme, the orders your characters are given are determined between the two of you. They can be tame, or they can be extreme. Plan out what you want to play ahead of time, or surprise each other, just get a feel for what each of you want! Leaving a kinks list and/or an example of what kind of orders you like in your comment is a terrific idea.
- Keep on going as long as you please! If you really want, your characters can escape after a single smooch, or they can be going at it all day long.
no subject
Though the difference in motivation may be difficult to see, when the outcome is nearly if not identical. He feels the faith in Alois' gaze as though the younger's hands are placed in his, ready and willing to be put to use and led. Without second thought, Miyuki assumes this weight of responsibility and is willing to lead.
It is not because he is a man (or will become one) that he does so. It is his duty here as the elder between them, and the one more level-headed besides. Being that reliable force that leads others is not at all unfamiliar to him. In the smaller scale of the batteries he's been a part of, and more recently with his appointment as captain.
If only he could be as experienced in kissing. If only he did not remember the repulsed reactions of before so well, weren't a little afraid of refusal snapping at his outstretched hand. But he's learned, at least, that when you have others depending on you, looking to you, you need to hide your weakness and show only confident strength. For those following to believe in you in the first place, and to bolster their own confidence.
So he is not afraid, but careful. Even when Alois' small approach brings a similarly small wave of relief to rush down, relaxing the tenseness in his upper back. He leans in more, eyelids falling partway as lips find Alois' to fit them together, gently, just enough to count as a kiss.
It would not be correct to say that he forgets about where they are or what they're meant to be doing, as it has been established he needs to lead and needs to be ever aware to do so. But for a moment that is set back for the immediate situation of the younger boy allowing him to kiss him. Not whether this meets the criteria, but... that it can be good for him. Trying and hoping for it to be something that the other boy is a willing part of, or at least, as closely approaching so as it can be considering their circumstances.
Even, maybe, making it feel good. It does already to him, body warm from their back and forth, in a way that makes every touch feel good and not enough. Miyuki ventures to turn the kiss into more than a perfunctory gesture, then. Presses a little more firmly, thumb brushing idly against the younger boy's scalp in coaxing motion as he holds him there for a solid second, and releases in the next.
His eyes focus on Alois' face, still so close, scanning for any signs of doubt. ]
Scared yet, sweetheart?
[ A soft murmur of a tease, Miyuki peeking out from under the skewed mask with a smile. ]
no subject
To be fair, though, he's had more reason to let his hands do mechanical but convincing work, while he lies on a grassy hillside inside himself and imagines a sky full of stars above his head. There was only one other time such sensation sought him out to bring him back. That is, one other time he found himself, despite remaining nervous and doubting, that he wanted to remain for what was happening. There have been a few accidental incidents: someone getting overzealous, violent, practically snatching him back out of himself. Basic survival driving him to stay aware because that might've been the last night, but Father, who'd always be in the corner observing, would remind the eager assaulter that he'd have him killed if he broke his favorite doll.
Right now, he's like a little glass of champagne, with tiny bubbles of stimulation slowly rising up inside of him. He wants to feel more, as well, and in half-realizing, wants to hide away; in equal parts, he feels giddy and shy, and as Miyuki establishes their mouths against each other more solidly, he thinks how nice kissing is. Like it's the first time, like he's a healthy, unhurt, normal little teenager! The timid effervescence of his whole current being causes a stutter in the return, but he does press back, his delight emitted on a hum as thumb strokes against his head, wanting to give life to the kiss, too.
The older boy draws away, and Alois' deserted, gently parted lips give slightly quickened breaths. Not breathlessness, but his budding excitement causing heart to thump more rapidly, seeking a way out. At his question, he exhales a small laugh, and guides the hostage back out of himself.]
Of what? [she asks.] Your wagging tail?
[She and Alois are moving through the question already, a motion that, even to him, especially in the frock he has on, feels shameless. But he wants so much to be closer and doesn't know how else to do it. Their position with one of his legs already on the outside of Miyuki, and the other still bent at knee between them, leaves him no choice but to carefully slip the other leg on the opposite side of the older boy, and though his intention isn't to have those lissome limbs of his open, there's no getting around it.
Despite whatever lewd image it may give off, it still permits him access to rise up to Miyuki, for the girl to rise up to her kidnapper, their skinny arms slinking over the tops of broad shoulders to extend out behind Miyuki-gangster hybrid's neck, chest to chest. Alois is bolder, relishing at the notion of kissing Miyuki, wanting to show him what he can do, what a demon taught him first-hand to ensure his gift as a good little lover, even at the tender age of ten. He doesn't forget that this isn't normal, he simply doesn't think of it at all, what with little to no experience with the normal.
So he finds him open-mouthed again, with unshy but fluttering connection, kissing decisively in one or two meaningful short bursts. And although they come with no ill-will, his lack of what should be natural puerile uncoordination, may be disturbing. He doesn't know it, though, he only wants to impress him. And, the third kiss is slower, humidified first only by their warm breath, and then Alois teasing seam of older boy's lips with tip of tongue. Youthful, and sweet, and for now, only quietly fervid.]
no subject
But he still can even when they part, the younger laughing and teasing and... kissing really is nice isn't it? Even when so chaste as that, the warm, airy feeling bounces around inside enough to make one restless, in a good way. It is so wonderfully normal by comparison to what else they've come together for here that Miyuki cannot help but smile with him and mean it.
The movement of Alois' legs reminds him of their constraints, of the looming monitor seemingly still unsatisfied, but it does not disturb him. Being closer is fine, only makes sense to facilitate more kissing — which is definitely fine. How it opens up the dress in a way unbecoming of a lady is merely incidental to that. Miyuki adjusts himself with the shift, both legs down and bent with a much smaller angle between the other boy's. His hand slips down from wall to the small of Alois' back to guide him close as he wants to be, as far as up into his lap if it suits him. The younger boy's enthusiasm to go again is plain to see and Miyuki is all too eager to allow it.
He expects a fumbling but earnest approach. Like a puppy with eyes glinting in joy of discovery, propelled by enthusiasm though woefully, charmingly lacking in finesse. And so he does not mind him initiating at all, preparing to drink in that emotion and channel it, adjust them and lead from there. He does not have much experience to draw from but he will still do as best he can.
However, there is no need. Through the happiness of their accomplished moment of normalcy creeps a feeling of unease, though the kisses come quick enough it does not fully sink in, at first. That this does not fit in with the image of their innocent exploration and what that means, as the younger boy's tongue swipes up his spine.
His kisses are too deft. And why is that? But Miyuki doesn't want to know the answer to the boy's precocious tendencies, when they might line up with his conjectures. He wants to give him that normal that he may not have had, and while the feeling of Alois' clever mouth against his is unnerving, it makes him want to do so even more.
His hand at Alois' back becomes an arm wound protectively around him, pulling him in. There was a second of pause, but Miyuki parts his lips and meets him, tastes him with but a gentle slip of tongue before slowly going in again for more. Even then, it is a question rather than an assertion. One of the things he was sure of was that he did not want to go too fast for the younger boy. But now... he has to wonder if he needs to worry at all. If, perhaps, he should rather be worrying about not having the experience to lead at all. ]
no subject
Touch says so much, even if the meaning may not be fully comprehended, there's still some whispering sense of what hand on small of back becoming arm instead on back to bring him nearer means. And instantly, he's quivering, nervousness trying to root itself, but Miyuki hasn't tried to push him away yet, hasn't puked yet, and Alois wants to convince him of his worth. In resistance of his insecurity, he tenses up, unintentionally effeminate with his small pinched up shoulders, the way this brings him up and lightly curves his back.
As if to anchor himself to Miyuki, he slides his fingers along shoulders, slowly up neck, to let them cup the older's face, at jaw corners, his own slim digits presently carding into dark hair. All the while, his little tongue teases Miyuki's, trying to persuade him into his mouth. And should he take the bait, go past the barrier of lips, he's bound to discover something else Alois doesn't think of. Not to say he never thinks of it—his favorite person gave it to him, but it's been there for so long, that like an old scar, he forgets about it from time to time. The first half-inch is soft and smooth, completely ordinary as far as tongues go. A little further back, it's inescapably, abnormally textured. Not rough per se, but it dips and rises almost like a patterned motif.
Kissing such as this won't make him think of it. Earl Trancy was dabbling in black magic long before he made this child his heir. He had many connections to other nobles who dabbled in the same. It was simple for Claude to make him think he gave this wound to the child to keep any suspicion from growing, and being evil as they were, if they felt Claude's imprint on him, none of them questioned it. But whether Miyuki's stumbled on it or not, whether he chose to indulge in more or not, if anything, they've surely been kissing with soft mouths and lightly touching tongues enough that Alois has to break away for some air.
His lashes shadow his cheeks while he catches breath, gaze lingering between them. One hand has found itself where neck slopes to shoulder, and he watches the other one play with the tie before him. He wants to make the girl say something charming and witty from his own mouth so Miyuki will hear it, but he's distantly dizzy. He hasn't quite made the connection to what he finds pleasant about the whole thing, Miyuki himself, how it's not unlike, if he had had a normal upbringing, his sexuality might be awakening for the first time. A mutually shared experience. He thinks it's all owed to an eagerness to prove himself.
He's a little flame in Miyuki's lap, who'd only just been flickering and trying to expand wildly, blazing to give him warmth, to want to keep him drawn in by what he is and what he can do. Fires are compared rightfully to passion all the time, and the fire that Alois is isn't an exception, but they forget how timorous fires can be. Irascible enough to burn down whole buildings, and sometimes, not quite dying out, but shrinking into themselves, down to a scarce glow. Which is what he is now, idly flipping tie end up and down, peeking shyly up, painfully seeking approval. In whatever form it can show itself.]
no subject
The concern does not keep him from continuing the kiss, letting the wet hot sensation stir at the simmering heat deeper inside himself. Though he does not so readily show it in his measured movements. When Alois pulls back Miyuki lets him, taking a deliberate breath of his own to even himself out again, quiet as he watches him softly.
It is familiar and not; the way the other boy waits for recognition from him. The way eyes look to him, asking even without words So? How was that? Miyuki has the expertise to criticize what his appraisal is usually sought for, but that in itself does not make a too uncomfortable difference.
The discomfort comes from something else, and this time he has more difficulty pinpointing it. Whether the feeling of unease now under Alois' search for approval is merely some resurgence of the last, or something distinctly new. It's normal, isn't it? If this were actually his very first kiss it would not be unlikely he'd have looked at Miyuki the exact same way.
No... it is because this very obviously isn't his first that tinges it so. That combination is what unnerves the older boy, makes him lock up and unwilling to give sought approval. To give anything, simmering interest inside transmuted into a roil of frustration. The boy is seeking the appraisal of someone less skilled than him, for a skill he should not have, gained in a way that, though unknown, Miyuki is fairly sure he does not want to implicitly approve of.
He doesn't know if there is a right way to respond to a question that is so wrong itself.
His options are even less, as he does not wish to deny the fragile boy in his lap either. At some point Miyuki's higher arm had slipped down to join the other, wrapped around Alois, and now his fingers are clenching into the dress where they rest at his back, his side. He pulls Alois in even more as he straightens up, lifts his head high and turns it just enough to look at the monitor out the periphery of his vision. ]
How'd a sweet girl like you get such a smart mouth, anyway?
[ He delays, heart hammering as he tries to think. Miyuki said he'd do whatever it takes and he'd meant it. He thought he could. This time seemed so promising.
But he keeps running into dilemmas so foreign to him. Praising Alois now would turn his stomach. Denying him and continuing without any recognition, while a tempting choice, would probably not be good for the younger boy's mindset; he knows enough now to anticipate it.
And if they continue, they will run into this problem again — he's almost certain. Even if he can convincingly make the gangster resist that will not solve it, only delay the inevitable onto their next directive, and he has no hope of their captor relenting. ]
no subject
He can see that he's at least trying to see if there's any changes in the screen plastered within the wall, and he watches him, and wonders what he's thinking, how much he secretly resents what's occurred between them. The younger's gaze strays beyond him to look as well, also privately wishing for something different, a Go Home Now would be good.
For his thirst for approval, of appreciation, of being liked for who he is—that's the thing, too, isn't it? That he thinks he's not himself without this—even with all the horribleness that encases his sincerity, he's only thirteen. That desperation is utterly pure and raw, and he will always want the approval of anyone, especially someone older. He feels like he's spread his hands open, and said as much as he can without actually doing so, This is all I am, and it's all I can do, and I really hope it pleases you. Who knows when they'll go, who knows how long they'll be stuck together, and deprived as he is for affection, barely knowing at all the wholesome sort he should have had for much longer than he did, he feels hinged on convincing Miyuki to be fond of him in some way. What would be worse than being trapped with someone who detests him? It's different than the way he sometimes lays still, staring at the back of Claude's head, begging him inly to just look over his shoulder at him, and yet the parallels are undeniable.
If he could peel back all the layers of his neediness, he'd sneer at himself, but as it is, he only and simply wants that.
Miyuki is distraught, and Alois stares at tie again, pondering how to soothe. Being strangled to unconsciousness is not something he wants again, but the desire to die is ever-present. He's afraid of how much it hurts, but if he could close eyes, feel nothing, never wake up again, he'd do it. As far as he's concerned, there's no Claude any longer, and so his single motivation is seeing Miyuki through this, who is a fairy-tale of a boy, with his determination for life. For all of his liveliness, Alois is tired of living, of losing, of having hope for nothing, and without love. What's the point: without love?
He is apprehensive about doing something to upset Miyuki again, to worsen his repulsion, make him angry. Stomach in knots of being comparable to those he's encountered, as he's awful enough as he is, right, he doesn't want to be like them. Nothing like them. Will Miyuki see him that way? Someone has to seize and stay on a flow, though. They're getting nowhere with their stuttering.
And, from his end, the most highlighted instruction is to seduce gang leader. Maybe that's their current dilemma, he's not doing a good enough job. Tears sting in his eyes for a moment while he tries to stifle the self-loathing that wants to erupt out of him, and he's able to blink it back before it starts to drop down his face. Shaky breath let, he summons the girl out again, everything he's been taught.
Palms press down over fabric, sliding down torso as much as they're able, and Alois and girl lean up to jaw, quietly murmuring against the skin there.]
You've mistakenly thought I was sweet at all. [And she dots the edge of the gangster's face, the top of his neck with drowsy kisses, readjusting legs little by little to finally be sitting astride his lap.] Would you prefer me that way—sweet? [Clenching into firm rib, fingers roaming idly. All the time, lips fluttering against him, tongue tip swiping between certain words for a fraction of a second.] Want me to give you reasons to call me a good girl, hm? Butter you up and all that. Those the kind of girls you like? I'll be whatever you want, mister, if you just tell me.
no subject
He shuts his eyes and breathes out slow, trying to leave all doubts by the wayside to rejoin the younger boy in their scene. The teasing sensation of his mouth feels good, by itself, and if he could stop thinking and caring, it would be fine. But Miyuki breathes in again and while the tumult quiets some, there is no silencing his mind. ]
Nah, not really big on sweets. And I could get something fake any day of the week, if I wanted.
[ Not like it's hard. Even if the gang leader is currently missing some money thanks to a certain someone, all he needs is cash to get some sickeningly sweet fantasy. The assertion is callous in insinuation and simultaneous denial. The girl may have seemed innocent at first, a little angel caught in such a compromising situation. But she has proven herself to be more than a blushing maiden unwilling to dirty her hands, not above or afraid of using what she can to survive at such disadvantage. The gangster doesn't want her to fake being less sensible than she is.
Miyuki doesn't see a point in the other boy faking, either. Not with what he knows now, and how much his view of him has changed since he first awoke and laid eyes upon the strange boy.
Alois knows how to do things that he shouldn't, things that can inspire a tingle of heat down deep and make Miyuki's gut grip around it in retaliation. But it had felt so sincere, so earnest, even while wrapped in the amount of skill that made it hard to swallow. After too — the diffident search for recognition that made Miyuki's stomach twist, as though the boy were really waiting for an assessment of his worth based on that show of skill.
Why? ]
Besides, doesn't matter if you're a great actress...
[ Not when he knows the truth. And what is the truth? Miyuki lifts a hand, gently threading his fingers into hair beside Alois' face, turning his own to lean in and press an innocent kiss to his temple. Lingering, murmuring warmly, ]
I already know you're a good girl.
[ A girl in dire straits at the fault of her crooked father, who still cared for his safety first. An irrepressible spirit who will do anything for her freedom.
A boy who hasn't had the best experiences, but who isn't at fault for it. Who, Miyuki believes, has more to offer than that. ]
no subject
First for protective arms, now for innocent kiss.
He has to dig to unknown places for the fortitude not to break down against him—and this worsens his trembling. To keep the sea of everything reserved for Claude locked in his throat. His eyes are going to melt out of their sockets, they burn so much. He has to keep their godforsaken stalling from starting again, but he's lost for how to proceed. Keeping it chaste will lead them nowhere, going too far will upset the stubborn prince underneath him.
Where's the girl? Short breaths while he searches, but he finds her, and they try to morph into each other. His performance is shaky, he can't get a hold on all his trembling, growing coral reefs to keep the sea of himself assuaged. But they have similar reasons for prickling, allowing Alois to get a secret message across to Miyuki.
He lifts his head, and pinches Miyuki's cheeks, carefully and yet with a child's carelessness tugging the skin. And she says:]
I'm not your baby sister, pal, got it?
no subject
No? I mean, I'm a little young to be your Daddy~
[ He jumps over her point and keeps snickering. It's... a little familiar, even with all that is not surrounding it. That intolerance for honest affection — not quite his own way of doing it, but a comfortable reminder of the kind of backlash he's incurred before. It's cute, to both of them, and he barely needs to pull at the gangster's strings now. Alois was given a specific behavior for his character and did what he had to, did splendidly and is worthy of praise, but Miyuki was not so constrained. And in his mirth he sees it now: a way to have the man respond satisfactorily, and a way to respond to Alois.
He slips an arm underneath the other boy's legs, the other still solidly wrapped around his back. She and him might want to hold on to something more secure than cheeks when Miyuki pushes with his legs to stand, lifting the boy in his arms as though he were some gallant rescuer. ]
But I guess I'm not any worse than what you've got!
[ In a bout of his own whimsy, he twirls them both. Stubborn in affection and perhaps trying to shake out the tremor he fails to miss in the younger boy's body. Knowing, instinctually, it would take an ambush to make himself swallow the same sort of sincerity. The bit of exhilaration shines through the smile on his face when Miyuki stills and looks to the boy in his arms. ]
At least I can admit I'm bad~
[ An honest criminal, hah! ]
no subject
And he even goes further by spinning, and so Alois clings—not unused to being picked up, but still not in expectancy, and not having had quite this experience—knees tightening in their own way, planting face at the side of his chest, and pleading small-voiced:] don't drop me - don't drop me - don't drop me.
[The older stops, and younger hesitates, peeking first over the top of his arm to make sure the ground isn't moving. When he finally turns face to look up, Miyuki is coruscating, and it's really wonderful. He's like a small, well-built sun who's come to play on earth, and guilt twists its knife in Alois' gut. He wants so much to apologize that he wound up here, tell him he doesn't deserve it, and he's too good for this.
He doesn't know how to respond with the same, what he sees overwhelms him with shame and distorted self-blaming. He still wants to weep, and beg for forgiveness. In some way, they're still strangers. Only acquaintances perhaps, but Miyuki is the closest he's come to a true friendship, and he wonders if it's wrong to see him this way. There's a gripping urgency to take care of him, and make sure nothing bad happens to him, and yet how does he prevent such things? How come he has to feel this way? Don't smile at him like that, because he'll want to put Miyuki in a treasure box, or a jar with holes in the lid, and make sure he stays safe and warm.
His contrite little expression is slow to fade, a shivering sigh given. The girl arrives once more in his place.]
Uh-huh. You're really wicked. The scariest criminal, I know. [Girlish, playful pouting, now.] You always baby the women you're bedding?
no subject
But he has the charisma to draw others in, the skill and drive to be noticed. And really, beyond the sharp armor stuck into his skin, he is no worse than anyone else. The ones who claim they are bad and mean it are, usually, just human.
He smiles at her pouting sarcasm and turns to lean a knee on the bed. Has to lean over to place her upon it, with her arms as they are, and he stays for a moment. ]
Is that what I'm doing?
[ The bedding part, he means, and questions with feigned surprise, knowingly betrayed by the curl of his lips. ]
no subject
His not-so-secretly smug look earns a simpering one from her, lashes lowering halfway.]
Let's not pretend, darling. You've got nothing to lose. Money returned or not, you'll get to say, "I claimed his daughter." Two lessons in one, right?
no subject
He huffs, ignoring how her legs press against him a bit as he slips one bracing hand up the sheets and sinks his elbow down into them, shifting weight onto that forearm and diminishing the distance between them as he does. ]
He'd believe you over me, if you denied it.
[ Rather than fight to push away from her he's dropping down even closer, low voice warm and steady. Smooth murmurs by her ear meant to be a distraction impossible to ignore, as his other arm reaches back to grab at her wrist and slowly extricate it from around him. ]
Would you tell him the truth? How I got impatient and decided to take some interest... Brought you to bed, [ His lips meander lazily down along her jaw, pressing just underneath to the skin of her neck, ] Made you mine.
[ Punctuated, as he pins her arm down beside them. ]
no subject
So he doesn't mean to leave the proof? His lips find her skin, and her gaze on the ceiling averts slightly, caught on the edge of reverie.
The punctuation—word and pinning combined—causes her to pull in a little breath, calls her back to him, and she blinks softly before smiling at the ceiling but for him. Very lightly, she kicks one heel idly, it thumps against the side of the bed, and she removes remaining hand to card its fingers into his hair.
Her thoughtful hum is purely for show.]
Guess not. I don't kiss and tell.
1/2
Then where's the benefit?
[ He pushes up to look down at her with a teasing smile, like he's ready to laugh, before shifting back and off to settle beside her on the bed. ]
I know you're getting restless, but just sit tight, princess. I think I can wait a little longer for him~
[ Yeah, he's pretty sure he's got it now. Playing around with her and evading the girl's advances — it's a perfectly valid reaction, nothing saying he can't stonewall her. It's gentler on Alois as well, compared to other methods of denial. Fun, even. If their captor isn't satisfied, Miyuki isn't going to guess at what is needed. He can keep this up for as long as necessary. ]
2/2
THE HOSTAGE IS TENACIOUS.
SHE TRIES TO ENTHRALL THE GANG LEADER FURTHER IN A SHOW OF REVEALING HERSELF.
HE CAN'T LOOK AWAY.
Miyuki's good mood sinks as he glares a hole through the last line. That one's for him, and he knows it's meant literally. The rest of it, too, he spares some searing disdain for, thoughts going to the younger boy. He turns back to look at him, trying to gauge his reaction and be ready for an adverse one. He hopes that, as it seemed before, Alois gets it now. But he won't be certain of that until he sees the other boy's resolve. ]
no subject
Younger finds older's studying gaze with a sidelong glance of his own, and partial smile. Not innocent, or polite, or amicable. The face is angelic, but one would still expect horns to blossom from his skull. This is not entirely the girl, but much of what Alois has tried to keep obscure of himself, out of the inability to cope with the first truest rejection he's ever felt.
She (and, for now, Alois in unison) stands with casual grace, the sort that's missed for assumed femininity, but is bewitching if those faint, easily overlooked gestures and motions are paid attention to. And with the same polished practice, and ease, soon she's standing just in front of him, facing him, imagine a little spotlight on her.]
You could really stand to be a bit more hedonistic, [sweetly. It is only middle and ring fingers which descend to pinch a bit of skirt, just above the hem, so as to keep the pinky and index suspended in that oh-so delicate, youthfully, girly fashion. Unhurried, she begins to lift it, continuing on mock pouting:]
What's the point of being the big, bad, boss if you won't let yourself have any fun? [There's the tops of thigh-highs, and smooth, plush thighs themselves, just a portion, but still the skirt rises.]
There may not be any monetary benefit, [purrs little kitten,] but you can still enjoy yourself. [She turns before revealing anything intimate in the front.] We could make a contract ourselves, there's something to gain from that, isn't there? [from over shoulder, the skirt stops, and in the pause awaiting his answer, a fraction of perky bottom and lilac lace are displayed for him.]
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You put a boy in a dress and he won't suddenly know how to move like a girl. Even if he tried, it would be exaggerated, a caricature. Completely unconvincing. But Alois reminds him again that he is unlike other boys, and an anxiousness creeps along Miyuki's skin as he steels himself.
Where she teases, he looks, and the gangster's gaze lingers with shameless appreciation. His brow arches, eyes flitting up to hers in a question he knows the answer to — she'll hardly show more so quick. Miyuki's question, however, is more concerned with the knife she (he?) holds up against his throat. She turns, and the illusion is kept in tact, brown eyes trailed down to catch sight of the panties two boys had picked out together, in what could have been another life for how distant it seems. ]
It wouldn't be very wise of me to make deals with the daughter of a thief.
[ Potential thief. It might run in the family. ]
But I'm listening~
[ Says her captive audience, gangster thoroughly amused with slightly lifted chin, Miyuki wry as he breathes in and out. ]
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If I can make you mad with desire, feel real good— You do know which kind, don't you? The take you to heaven sort, the nothing will ever feel right on earth again sort. If I can distract you from all your poor little worries, then you'll let me go. And, if not: [lightly shrugging, eyes drifting away for that one second,] sell me. Or you could keep me, and sell me as much as you like, over and over, well overcompensating for what was taken with time.
[She sways gently in place, skirt shifting in the air and around her behind.]
Or, of course, if there's something else you want more, go with that. [Now, she can't see him, face put forward while she feigns a stretch, not missing a beat, fluid enough to seem natural, if it weren't for the fact she placed herself just before him and knew to turn about. It extends her arms, elbows bent faintly, back curving a bit, and—whoops!—causing the skirt to be tugged outwards and rise enough to see most of uncovered rear, the lace panties that frame cheeks, while she's up briefly on toes, for the most fleeting half second, and then the skirt drops to hide the entirety of what she let him see. She doesn't look back to assess his reaction. It was an accident, duh.]
What've you got to lose?
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What a deal, though. The only thing he has to lose is — ]
A bargaining chip~
[ It is becoming more and more likely that it doesn't matter anymore, however, the longer her Daddy takes. Even with her confidence, it would be foolish of him not to take the deal. He has everything to gain and only an unfortunate little girl to lose. The potential income she could earn him can be made up by other means, nothing stipulating anything beyond her person, or what he can do after all is said and done.
He hums in thought he doesn't need, all delay from Miyuki and his search for a way out. She's declared her intent now, and Alois is following along after, isn't he? Miyuki must keep his eyes upon her and it should be nothing to weather through it. To rise to the challenge before all her confidence falls flat. ]
... Alright. You've got a deal.
[ He can do this. ]
Make my night, and you get your freedom. Otherwise? It's mine.
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Alois and girl turn to give gangster and teen-boy tiny smile as well. Despite his unusual build, the feminine, svelte softness, little wrists there, hidden naturally ever-drawn in stomach with that bit of baby fat that vanishes when he lies on his back, the slender but plump thighs, the lack of defining muscle or boyishness apart from the obvious, he's still a boy and there's not much to look at. He'd like Miyuki to find him pretty, and to be captured by every inch, but this is too wishful thinking even for him, particularly after everything that's occurred so far.
And to really sell it, he's certain he has to draw it out, and sparingly pass the spatula of frosting to the other occupant of the room for tastes, until that awful, sinful cake is haunting him.
She moves the short distance up to the bed, the toes of those silly, frilly heels a few millimeters away from the front of criminal's dress shoes, and then with single index, beckons him to sit up straighter, within reach.]
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He's sitting as a man, legs casually opened at an angle with hands resting now just outside thighs upon the bed. His head is tipped up slightly to face her, brows lifted as well, daring her to give him her best shot. Anticipation of an indulgence the man has perhaps too long avoided, apprehension for what the boy doesn't know, and doesn't know how he'll be able to take — she has his attention either way. ]
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Her lips halt before his, and for a moment, simply for the excuse of touch, she brings hand up to cup and stroke his cheek. Briefly, and then murmurs,] Don't lift your hands, got it?
[Not that Miyuki would want to touch him at all, but he, and she, hopes hostage has made herself enough of a temptation that gang leader will at least feel mildly annoyed, if not more so, but neither of them are optimistic victims of unfortunate circumstance. They're both flailing blindly, trying to obscure their lack of faith in a shroud of cool composure.
But she does kiss him, as she meant, gently and with almost mirage-like contact, fluttery, despite the open mouthness of it. A message of gratitude for allowing her a chance at rescuing herself, while not giving away too much. And, perhaps, although unknown to the boy-girl duo, the same teasing game gangster and Miyuki had decided on themselves.
The truth is that he does want to rush through everything. Not driven by some great desire for the older boy, even with his good looks, but because he wants it to end, and hasn't the pattern been each task getting worse. Dressing each other up was a disguise of innocence: look where it's gotten them. Doesn't Miyuki know it's going to get worse? Is his hesitance a sign of purity, is he afraid because he has something to keep whole? Is it disgust? What Alois wants to do is slap and shake him, because the method they're using to lean against each other with is prolonging everything.
This is how it is, however, and he has no interest, damning instructions aside, to seem eager. There's a permanence of self-disgust upon him like a second skin, but it's been a couple of years since he felt this painfully aware of it; and that locked in his throat itch to cry hasn't at all subsided, but if Miyuki can't stand him, it's because he deserves it. And if Miyuki, at any point in their captivity, or in going home, thinks what an abhorrent, unforgivably, contemptible child Alois is, it's because that's what he is, and so isn't it a matter of committing to what he's always been?
There's no signs of any of this, the thrashing salt water in her esophagus, and she draws away with a close-mouthed giggle, only after kissing him long enough to invoke the possibility of more, before yanking her every cell away. She's careful in stepping back to her former spot, Alois glancing up at the screen to ponder how to proceed next. Does it want him to expose himself entirely, was that short show enough? Where are Miyuki's proactive instructions? Is whoever it is keeping them here aware of how demeaning it is to throw oneself at someone who doesn't want them, even with a costume on?
If there are any clues of Alois' own distaste for the situation, it unintentionally displays itself here, with his soulless stare on the monitor, his resignation to all of it. Only a flicker, and then, how quickly can he reassume his role, turning face back to him endearingly, with airy giggle, eyes lighting up again, a different person, premature triumphant delight from girl-hostage. She doesn't think she's convinced the man of anything, but it is so fun to taunt.]
If anything, [engaging him in small talk,] it'll be nice for you to enjoy yourself, won't it? [Elbows bending upward, so she can reach behind and undo the button at the topmost part of the dress at the back of her neck.] I could be wrong, but you seem all business. Don't want to get wrinkles, do you?
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Yes, ma'am~
[ Teasing, indulgent. The man is entertained rather than annoyed by the captive girl with the gall to give him orders. There's nothing to feel threatened by, and not enough want in him as of yet to begrudge her such a rule. After all, he might as well play her game and enjoy himself. Just not too much.
It helps the teenager, too, making light of it. Because the truth of it is, he doesn't mind the feather-like kiss he's given, eyes sliding half-shut and grin waning to a mere quirk of his lips. He wouldn't mind kissing the other boy at all, if it did not portend something more. If it did not draw up something within himself that anticipates it.
But something else solid, heavy, resilient weighs it down, as it has from the very beginning. And on top of that rests even more now, from getting to know the other boy, sympathy and growing fondness compounding upon the guilt already there. But she and he have the skill to coax desire out from under that weight, and that is worth fearing.
Perhaps he is only delaying the inevitable, not so oblivious as to be blind to the course of their captor's prompting. There is something in him that still wishes to preserve the other boy, to save him and help him. In this place, it may seem a futile thing, but... he cannot accept giving in so easily. Miyuki is watching him and this would be so much easier if he didn't care. But he does, and seeing that resignation in the other boy makes him wish to move his hands and grab onto him. Tell Alois that they'll get through this, he'll do everything he can. He swears.
The girl slips back on stage and the gangster does as well, with a snort. ]
You sound like a doting wife. It's too bad — some boy out there's gonna have a lonely life~
[ There is an airy levity to it all, even as he shows his teeth sharp and ruthless, eye so surely drawn up to her neck. ]
... Maybe I enjoy my work. Besides, I'm the big, bad boss, yeah? I can't rest my head too much.
[ And he gives a short laugh again, ]
Too many people want it~
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Then, dainty hands raise to dainty shoulders, where, bit by bit, she peels the top of the dress away. More neck is revealed, clavicle, skin just under—all slow. Here, as dress takes its time being slipped down her, Alois' shyness peeks out behind the curtain of the girl: he can't hold that sultry gaze any longer, and his lashes flutter for a half-second when his sight drops away to permit him to hide away from the teenager watching behind criminal. The dress is at the center of her ribs, more of the boy-child she resides within bared.
If it were different, the atmosphere not like this, maybe two boys splashing in a public washing pool, or brook, he wouldn't be so suddenly diffident. There's a quiet heaving to his chest, also signs of nervousness, but he's trying. Confidence is easy enough to fake when the person you're seducing already has sickening cravings, but Alois wants so badly to apologize for having to do it, that Miyuki's made to watch, but what good would it do? And, he'd be punished for so blatantly breaking character, wouldn't he?
Internally, he's tugging the girl's skirts, even needier and helpless than she is, begging her to put her eyes back where his is, don't let him look so perturbed. She grants his wish, and there she is again: eyes lifted with subdued amusement, smiling for her personal captor again. Dress only just making it passed navel, slim stomach, the screen quickly dims and brightens again with further directions:
REMEMBER: THE HOSTAGE IS FEMALE IN EVERY CONCEIVABLE WAY, DOWN TO THE LAST DETAIL.
THE ACTOR'S BODY IS NOT HER BODY.
SHE WILL FINISH REMOVING THE DRESS, THEN TRY TO TEMPT THE GANG LEADER MORE BY FEELING AND MASSAGING HIM. SHE WILL AVOID TOUCHING ANYWHERE EXPLICITLY INTIMATE.
She and boy pause once more, in order to read, and it takes them even longer to return to gangster, to Miyuki, to the task one is forced into and the other thinks is a potential ticket to freedom. There's a shuddering exhalation, and Alois just barely keeps his eyes from fogging up, but—and still trying—he has a tougher time summoning ersatz confidence, borrowing some from her. Their eyes keep lifting with the intention of holding steady gaze, but never quite make it to brown eyes before they're bouncing away again, and small face blooms with the rouge of boy's chagrin.
After one more slowly released breath in attempt to mollify rattled nerves, dress at hips, she drops it to her ankles, where it pools around her white shoes, leaving her in thigh-high stockings, the very shoes momentarily covered by mess of dress, and those lilac panties. Despite the monitor's calculated reminder, the physical reality is a boy standing in these same clothes. In a way, his body is girlish, sharing softness and slightness, not muscular like an athlete, or knight, but not gawky, lanky, or gangling either, not skinny in the way some boys are where it looks like their bones are too big for their body. And although, the front of panties makes his true gender unmistakable, it's only the smallest, telling mound. What he has scarcely disrupts the integrity of the panties, if it all.
There are reasons for this—the entirety of his shape, delayed blossoming despite the genetic premature growth spurt to his height, but they're neither here not there.
A small knee bends slightly, as if meaning to step forward, but Alois must've considered that a self-assured girl would give the gang leader a chance to admire her for a moment first, and he stays put just a bit longer.]
What's there to enjoy about a life like this? It seems lonely, if you ask me.
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