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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
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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?
no subject
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~
no subject
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.
no subject
But she's back, and Miyuki isn't safe. The dress falls lower, the water rises in turn, and the boy lifts his chin slightly as it feels like his throat's engulfed. Again there is a pause, and the change in light triggers something now in his brain, knowing that it means a potential change in tack or at the least that it needs his attention. Miyuki's gaze darts over.
And he gasps for air, sharp and quick, clenching hands into the mattress before he sets his eyes back on the girl again. That... He almost forgot. His orders were so simple and yet he dropped them in the span of a blink. Shaken out from the costume of a man, Miyuki looks for a moment frazzled, vague anger for the feeling of being tricked, for falling for it. Looking almost lost when he searches the figure before him and can't find the other boy's gaze anymore, no longer knows the totality of the instructions behind it. Alois is still there, though, isn't he? He can see him — that reluctance. He —
The dress falls and the water takes him under. His eyes are to her but he's not breathing, still as stone as that pressure surrounding his chest covers his mind. His eyes can't leave, and they start to fall over the other. That slender softness that... is so odd on a boy. And there is the feeling like something is off, all at once Alois appears so apparently small.
And there, Miyuki finds relief. It is as though someone pulled the stopper, water draining down and allowing him room to breathe, to think. Seeing Alois' person almost bare is a stark reminder that the other boy is young, and enough to keep that heavy weight of before firmly down. With the fleeting looks of shame he'd caught as well, Miyuki wishes to take his own suit jacket and cover the boy, hide him from their captor.
And from whatever that last prompt was; that unknown that sets him on edge and keeps him, while pitying, that littlest bit wary of what the other boy is going to do.
The outrage for their situation he's felt before draws up again, but he merely recognizes it and moves on. Miyuki takes in a full breath, lets it out, and the roving look over her is admiring, yes. But it is so obvious that Miyuki's gripping at the back of the gangster's head, fingers snarled, making him do it. ]
... One night's not gonna fix that.
no subject
His head is splitting with the apologies that want to pour out of him. His mind, habitually, keeps trying to retreat, and it won't be good, and Miyuki, already in the worst situation, will be angry, and yes, his acting isn't good at all in the attempt to keep this facade up.
He can't look at him, he clenches his own wrist, not gently flaunting like he has for others before, but wanting to cave inward and trying to tether himself where he is. His voice stops and starts, straying away from everything, and wandering back,]
I don't— Maybe not. But. [The first step is a stumble, because he practically has to break his legs to make them move, but he finds his balance, and shakily proceeds.] You can go away from a lonely life in one night...
[What does he do? He wants this to be normal: he wants to be effortless, impressive, to flow through it as easily as he's done before. He's acting pathetic, virginal, meek. He wants to get Miyuki out of this and this isn't helping, he's going to lengths—does Miyuki know?
He tries, reaches with intention of touching him with interest, but it's not convincing in the least: a hand to shoulder, mechanical and platonic, and his breathing is too quick.]
I can't do anything else, [he makes her choke out the whisper, but it's a disclosure from Alois to Miyuki, trying to make him understand. His eyes, stinging, go to wall, unable to face him, and he squeezes shoulder, still trying to muster up the parts of him that know how to do this, to lock the girl into place, but she's a phantom. He wishes the monitor would tell them to stop the charade, so he can ask Miyuki if there's any hope, if he'll be receptive, because Alois doesn't want to touch or bother him if he doesn't want to be.
Earlier, things had been a touch lighter, a little bit fun, but Miyuki managed to trick him, too. Would seeing him through his mean instead killing him? If he behaves like it's unbearable, would it be more kind to lead him to death himself, get him out that way? He's never killed anyone, save unfortunate butterfly, and he doesn't think he could, but why does Miyuki keep at it, considering everything, considering how it makes him feel?
Wondering how to improve upon things for older boy is his breaking point, he feels useless beyond comprehension, ugly, foul and he erupts into the quickest sob, girl vanishing for a second, there's the telling strangling, before younger boy gasps back into reality, gasping in and out, there but shaken, and putting hands, for now, only on shoulders, or upper arms, over clothes, mindlessly.]
Do you even like girls? [forced, shrill. frantic giggle. Alois stomping girl back into his body.] You keep acting like you're afraid of me. Are you a virgin? [using her voice to communicate with teenager.] If you're afraid of me, you have to tell me, because I don't want to do the things you don't want, mister, you know? I'd rather die than do that to someone. Are you afraid? [A persistence in the question because he's afraid, and he's can't remember ever feeling this vulnerable, this out of control, this alone. Miyuki's repulsed. Claude's doesn't want him anymore.]
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It's thin as paper now, his fellow captive's plea called through the girl's words and wrenching him forward through it. I can't do anything else — he knows. He knows. Alois did so well and Miyuki's letting him down despite all he'd said. Losing sight of the goal when he's stumbled upon much less clear things to consider on the way, not knowing which way around is the right one. His hands jump up — and that rule was hers, after all, not the monitor's — at the sight of distress, though knowing he has no way to stop it.
Maybe he's led them to a dead end.
One of his hands grips at Alois' wrist, gently. It feels like the girl's questions are biting through him but Miyuki doesn't flinch. He likes girls. He likes guys, too. Yes, he's done little more than kissing with either. Hell yes, he's afraid, though not of that. The reflex to say the opposite rears up, to erect himself as that pillar for the other boy who is so clearly shaken and lost. Not let him doubt that Miyuki is any less than perfectly confident and dependable.
But lying's brought them here. ]
I'm terrified.
[ The gangster supplies a wisp of sarcasm that saves the boy from baring himself completely, but he does not have the power to mask what exhaustion mars Miyuki's face, expression breaking open into vulnerability. ]
Never... been more scared in my life.
[ His hand grips tighter to Alois and he hardens his gaze to look at him, a grin cracked into his lips to break it to the girl that what was a confession for Alois is only a joke for her. And for the both of them, ]
Believe it or not... You don't scare me at all.
[ Alois, by himself, isn't the danger. He's the one in danger, in Miyuki's mind. He may be afraid of hurting the older boy, but Miyuki doesn't see it like that at all. What he's most afraid of right now is the younger boy hurting himself on him, finding Miyuki's edges and cutting himself upon them and he doesn't want that. It doesn't matter how many wounds he may have sustained before.
But that ultimatum she presents leaves him with that, or something worse. Don't die. Please — Miyuki's hand slips up to ensconce the smaller one at his shoulder, covering it. He can't all of a sudden make himself want the other boy physically, but of course he can make himself do the motions. It is still as he's said before: he'll do what he has to. He did it before. Why isn't that enough? ]
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But the hand he's captured wrist with tightens, gaze becomes more meaningful, Miyuki tells him he's not scared of him, and Alois, flimsy, and fickle, and untrusting of himself, disbelieving of what he's heard, withdraws. It's at least not quite as permanent as before, and after a moment of his hiding, he peeks back out, up to other captive.
He stares at the hand over his, internally tries breathing life back into the girl, and he still doesn't know what to do. This should be easy. Many times before, it's been easy. Considerations on how to ease Miyuki into being okay with being touched, whether starting off or asking him, feel uncomfortable and awkward and somehow painful merely as thoughts. Miyuki's trying to keep the gangster intact, he could do the same. Should.
Different personas would be like a buffer of sorts for them, wouldn't they?
He can't tease or slip back into it the same way he had before, when he had the skirt to use as a prop, but... No. He never truly got anywhere, did he? Miyuki was acting as much as he was, which is a fair enough thing, but then Miyuki wanted to stop. So, now what? If Alois leans into kiss, cradle cheek, or put fingers into hair, will Miyuki, who's said, promised, he'll do what it takes, come to meet him and then desert him before they've made adequate progress again? Leave Alois continually floundering, and for how long—a night, days, weeks, years? Miyuki seems certain they'll make it out, but how long is this going to last?
Is it cruel of him to think, after Miyuki's wrists were bound, after he had to put up with the embarrassment of Alois dressing him, that largely, in the time they've been here, he's had the easiest time of it? That his demands are minimal. Throw herself at him, convince him, make a fool of yourself, let him laugh at you. This is what the monitor is really saying. How long. How much more.
It wants them to be of a certain way, and he can't muster up desire if Miyuki has none either. At this point in figuring out how to proceed, he's just nearly in the process of trying to remove himself, but it dawns on him that perhaps he doesn't need any of that. Maybe he can turn mind off, not go away entirely, but mute himself to wondering, to sensation, to Miyuki's lacking, and autopilot through it. It's been a long time since he's worked in that kind of existence, and it was never planned on, only an accident, but at this point, he feels it's only one of two options.
He does wind up leaning in to get them going again, beginning with kiss—light, but so far removed from his kissing before, emotionless—in order to more seamlessly guide fingers up trapezius, and let them idle at nape of neck with the ghosting, tender scrapes of fingernails. He closes his eyes, not because he's reveling or swooning, but because he doesn't want to look at Miyuki, who doesn't want this, and if he does, if he has to, he'll end up crying, and that's not the girl.]
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Miyuki's eyes stay open and his mind is detached, initially, from the kiss. It is only as a test that he lets his eyes slide shut too long to be a blink, and sighs when he doesn't feel that punishing constriction at his neck in reply. They must be past the scope of his simple order then, now that the dress is off. And now he is allowed to turn his head as well, to look at the new instruction on screen.
But he doesn't yet. This, finally pressing into the kiss and actually being a part of it, he can do. Though it is light his lips move, tip of tongue slips between, and he searches for the boy he'd shared a kiss with before. Perhaps lacking in the desire their audience wishes to see, perhaps misguided, he imbues it with affection and gentle attempt to comfort. Lets his hand wander down till fingers brush along the other boy's side, coming to rest at his waist.
When he breaks it his eyes are open, head tilting as he presses a stray kiss to the corner of the younger boy's lips. Now he takes the chance to peek over at the monitor, head turning a bit more as he reads it over. There is an unseen flare of anger for the beginning of it, but the rest doesn't seem too difficult, to him. ]
... C'mere.
[ A quiet, even exhalation as he urges him close with his hand, if Alois will allow it. He's not perfect, he can't fix this. But rather than not even looking at him, or thinking of someone else or somewhere else, or forcing himself on him — Miyuki's still trying to be here with him. ]
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But soon enough Miyuki's responding to kiss with a bit of tongue, giving it a little more life than Alois was able, making it sweet, reaching into the pool of girl who the sinking boy inside of has been trying to solidify to clasp his hand, and the barer youth tenses in response, resistant. Which is an inkling of his wanting to respond in turn, because the kissing before had been so enjoyable, but he's weighing the risks.
He isn't mechanical Jim from before, he can't force that way of being, Claude's molded him into being too emotional, and emotion does seep from his shabby armor: nearly starting to bow his head away to break kiss before it's over with a little anxious, peeping whine—but stopping himself before he does, guilty closed eyes squeezing shut is a display of his acute awareness, a hand coming to lay at chest pressing down from his rigidity.
Alois' eyes flutter open, as well, in spite of himself, when Miyuki first pulls back, and they remain doubtfully downcast as he places peck to corner of lips, averting when in the periphery of his vision he can tell the older boy is taking a moment to read the screen.
His soft encouraging, hand and voice, are magnets for unsure eyes, younger one looking up, soon with dampened blinking—his assumption wasn't incorrect, he knew to look at him would lead to this, he's so sorry. He does slip closer, slow and nervous, but nevertheless, and shakes his head lightly, pressing thin arms to spilling eyes to try and subdue them.
He pats blindly for a way to make the atmosphere for them pleasant again, not tense, or dreadful, or unbearable. The girl is confident, but Alois' uncertainty overwhelms her, and they hiccup out:]
That suit— really becomes you.
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