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"Agent! Creators above, are you alright?" Ballista’s voice rang out, sharp with panic, as he sprinted down the hill. Dirt scattered beneath his frantic steps, and his breath hitched when his eyes fell upon the smoking wreckage of the bike. Just beyond it, Agent staggered unsteadily, clutching his side, before collapsing to the ground with a pained grunt.
"Agent!" Ballista shouted again, dropping to his knees beside the injured man. His heart pounded as he reached out, trying to steady him. Agent groaned, his voice rough but laced with irritation. "Stop yelling, Ballista. I’m not deaf," he hissed, trying—and failing—to push himself upright.
Ballista ignored the remark, his focus locked on helping his companion. Wrapping an arm around Agent’s shoulders, he attempted to lift him. "Come on, let’s get you up," Ballista urged. But as Agent tried to put weight on his legs, a sharp cry tore from his lips. He staggered, his face contorting in pain, and clutched at his side as though trying to contain the agony radiating from within.
"Shit, stop—stop!" Agent barked, his grip tightening on Ballista’s arm like a vice. "Don’t—don’t move me," he said through gritted teeth, his breathing uneven.
"What’s wrong? What’s happening?" Ballista asked, his voice trembling with worry. He knelt beside Agent, his fingers twitching helplessly as he scanned him for visible injuries.
Agent bit his lower lip, his face pale and slick with sweat. Finally, he choked out, "My side. Check if I’m… bleeding." His hand trembled as it moved to his ribs, where something warm and sticky coated his fingers.
Ballista’s stomach sank as he leaned closer, carefully peeling back the edge of Agent’s jacket. His breath caught in his throat. "You’re bleeding," he confirmed, his voice low but urgent. "We need Primal for this." He moved quickly, guiding Agent to sit back against the grassy slope, his touch as gentle as he could manage.
"Careful!" Agent barked, his voice breaking as another wave of pain rippled through his body, radiating through his abdomen like fire. His head tipped back, and his teeth clenched as he fought to keep from crying out again.
Ballista’s brow furrowed deeply as he watched his companion, who was now pale and trembling. Agent’s breathing had grown shallow, and his gaze seemed unfocused, as though the world around him was slipping out of reach. "Damn it," Ballista muttered under his breath, his own panic rising.
"You need to get Primal," Agent rasped, his words barely audible, his strength rapidly fading.
"Alright, alright, I’ll go," Ballista assured, his voice tight with emotion as he stood. "Don’t move, okay? Just—stay here. I’ll be back!" Without waiting for a reply, he dashed off, disappearing over the hill.
Agent let out a tired, bitter laugh as he slumped back against the ground. "Like I could even move now," he muttered hoarsely, his head lolling to one side. The sky stretched endlessly above him, a vast sea of blue speckled with wisps of white clouds. He raised an arm to shield his eyes from the sun, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.
"Cursors," he whispered to himself, his fingers curling weakly against the grass. He lay there, motionless, as the world blurred and dimmed around him.
[...]
Agent bit his lip, his hand trembling as he clutched his injured side. He stood still before Victim’s office door, the heavy wood looming ominously, as though it were a gateway to the inevitable. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a deafening drum against the silence of the hall. The outcome of what lay beyond the door was already clear in his mind. Narrowing his eyes, he took a deep, steadying breath. He could do this. He just had to explain—his injury, his failure, his inability to proceed. That was all.
Raising a shaky hand, he rapped lightly on the door.
"Come in," Victim’s voice called from within, smooth and composed, as though he had been expecting this moment. The tone caught in Agent’s throat, and for a fleeting second, he hesitated. Then, with a sharp inhale, he pushed the door open.
Victim sat at his desk, twirling a pen idly between his fingers. His sharp gaze lifted to greet Agent, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"Ah, Agent," Victim said, his voice smooth and deliberate, "it’s good to see you again."
Agent hovered by the door for a moment, his fingers curling into a fist at his side. The cold sweat prickling the back of his neck felt almost unbearable. With a soft click, he closed the door behind him and forced himself to approach the desk. His steps were measured, but his knees threatened to buckle under the weight of his own dread.
Victim leaned back in his chair, studying him with an unnerving calm. "Hmm," he mused, his smile widening, "it seems you’ve returned empty-handed once more." There was no disappointment in his voice—only amusement, laced with something Agent couldn’t quite place.
Agent clenched his teeth and dropped his gaze to the floor. His mouth felt dry, heavy with the words he didn’t want to say. The throbbing ache in his side only added to the storm of doubt swirling within him. Could he really go through with this?
Victim’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Come closer," he said, patting his lap.
Agent froze. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at Victim, unsure if he’d heard correctly. His lap? This was new—different. Their encounters, while unconventional, had never crossed this particular line. Usually, these meetings ended with marks on his neck or shoulders, or bruised lips he’d have to explain away later. But this... this was something else. Something Agent wasn’t sure he was ready to face.
Still, he obeyed. Slowly circling the desk, Agent locked eyes with Victim, whose head tilted slightly, a smirk playing at his lips. "Boss—" Agent began, his voice faltering.
Before he could say more, Victim’s hand shot out, gripping his waist. The pressure on his injured side made Agent wince, a sharp hiss escaping his lips.
In one swift motion, Agent found himself straddling Victim’s lap, their faces mere inches apart. Victim’s smirk deepened. "Call me Victim when it’s just the two of us. How about that?"
Agent’s glare burned into him, but before he could protest, Victim’s arms curled around him, lifting him effortlessly. A startled yelp escaped Agent as he was placed on the desk, his back against the cool wood, with Victim standing between his legs.
"Let’s start here," Victim murmured, his breath warm against Agent’s ear. "I’ve got some ideas for this setup."
"W-wait," Agent stammered, his voice trembling. His words were cut short when Victim’s fingers deftly loosened his tie. Before Agent could react, Victim’s lips were on his, soft yet insistent. The kiss was deep, deliberate—his tongue brushing against the roof of Agent’s mouth, grazing his teeth, coaxing a soft moan from him.
Panting as they broke apart, Agent wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What... what’s going on? Are you trying to kill me?" he managed, his voice a mix of confusion and frustration.
Victim chuckled, the sound low and almost predatory. Ignoring the question, he shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Agent groaned softly as he shifted, the pain in his side flaring once more.
"Open your shirt," Victim commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Agent hesitated, his fingers hovering over the buttons of his shirt. The weight of Victim’s gaze bore down on him, and with a resigned sigh, he began unbuttoning, his movements slow and deliberate. He paused after the fourth button, but Victim leaned forward, his hands capturing Agent’s wrists and pinning them to the desk.
"Just up to here," Victim murmured, his voice soft but firm.
Leaning in, he pressed a featherlight kiss to Agent’s lips before trailing his mouth downward. His lips ghosted along Agent’s neck, pausing where faint marks from their past encounters lingered. With a mischievous grin, Victim nipped at the sensitive skin, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Agent.
A soft moan escaped as Agent’s hips shifted involuntarily, pressing closer to Victim—a motion that didn’t go unnoticed.
"Seems like you're eager. I thought you weren't interested," Victim murmured, his voice low and teasing, before leaning in to lick one of the marks on Agent's throat. His lips lingered, gently sucking on the sensitive skin, leaving a faint red mark behind.
Agent couldn't hold back the moan that escaped his lips, his head tilting instinctively to give Victim more access. It was an unspoken invitation. "Well, well," Victim remarked with a sly grin, his tongue trailing over the mark he'd just made. A shiver ran down Agent's spine, betraying his composure.
Agent bit his lip, trying to stifle another sound as his half-closed eyes reflected both pleasure and hesitation. Victim's grin widened as he let his hand trail downward, his fingertips brushing against Agent's thigh in a deliberate motion.
Agent's gaze flickered downward, watching Victim's hand resting on his thigh. His thoughts swirled, uncertainty battling with desire, as he blinked slowly, trying to clear his head. Then, with a soft exhale, he looked up at Victim, his eyes clouded with need. A slow nod followed, signaling his silent consent, while a warmth began to pool in his stomach.
Victim’s smirk deepened as he reached for Agent’s belt, his movements slow and deliberate. Agent watched, his breathing hitching as the belt came undone. Victim unbuttoned his pants, the sound of the zipper dragging down filling the quiet room. Agent could only bite his lip harder, anticipation building with every second.
"Are you sure?" Victim asked, his voice a soft murmur, seeking one final confirmation. Agent’s chest rose and fell unevenly as he nodded again, this time more firmly, lifting himself slightly to assist as Victim slid his pants down, leaving him clad only in his boxers.
The cool air brushed against Agent’s bare legs, sending a shiver through him. He glanced away, feeling the weight of Victim’s gaze as it roamed over him.
"What’s the matter?" Victim purred, leaning closer until their bodies pressed together, the friction unmistakable.
A shaky moan escaped Agent’s lips as he leaned back, his hands trembling as they moved to tug at the sleeve of his suit jacket. His frustration bubbled over. "If you’re going to do it, just do it. No need to drag this out," he growled, his voice edged with impatience.
Victim’s hand shot out, gripping Agent’s wrist to still him. He leaned in, their faces mere inches apart. "Fine," Victim whispered, his tone dripping with mischief. "Just make sure you won’t regret it."
Before Agent could respond, a groan slipped from his lips as Victim’s teasing continued, the prolonged sensation heightening his need. Victim’s hands moved lower, pulling his boxers down in one smooth motion.
Agent gasped sharply as his cock brushed against the fabric of Victim’s pants. "Ngh," he bit his hand to muffle the sound, leaning back against the desk to steady himself. But Victim wasn’t having it. Gently but firmly, he pushed Agent’s hand away.
"I want to hear you," Victim said, his voice firm yet enticing. He slipped two fingers into Agent’s mouth, his other hand wrapping around Agent’s cock. Agent groaned, the combination of sensations drawing an uncontrollable response from him. Victim’s skilled movements only intensified the pleasure, his fingers gliding over Agent’s sensitive spots with practiced precision.
“Hah…" Agent’s moans spilled freely now, his lips parting as Victim kept up a steady rhythm. His senses were overwhelmed, his body trembling as heat coursed through him. His vision blurred momentarily, the intensity of it all consuming him.
"Enjoying yourself?" Victim purred, his tone laced with satisfaction. He let one finger trace along Agent’s tongue, eliciting another shiver from him. Agent whimpered in response, his body instinctively pushing his hips toward Victim’s hand.
"Use your words," Victim urged, his voice coaxing but firm.
"Yes… it’s… good," Agent managed to gasp between breaths, his voice trembling with raw emotion. His body tensed as Victim released his grip, only to feel his fingers withdraw from his mouth.
Dazed, Agent watched as Victim’s hand moved lower, his fingers trailing deliberately down to his backside. A sharp intake of breath escaped Agent as Victim pressed a hand against his abdomen, brushing against a tender wound. The sensation was fleeting, but it made him groan softly.
Before he could question what was coming, Agent let out a sharp cry as he felt a finger press inside. His body tensed, his head falling forward onto the desk with a deep, guttural groan.
Agent froze, his breath catching sharply as his nails unconsciously scraped against the desk beneath him. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his chest heaving with unsteady breaths.
"Are you okay?" the Victim asked, concern laced in his voice.
Agent nodded weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just... continue," he murmured, his body tense as another groan escaped his lips when Victim resumed.
As Victim carefully added another finger, pressing firmly against Agent’s prostate, a mixture of discomfort and what felt like pleasure tore a cry from Agent. His fingers curled tighter against the desk, the faint thought crossing his mind that he might have left marks there.
When the fourth finger came into play, Agent’s moans grew louder, his voice strained as his thighs trembled. Instinctively, he tried to close his legs to ease the pressure, but Victim quickly intervened, steadying him with a firm hand and gently pushing his knees apart.
"Please... move, just move," Agent pleaded, his words catching between gasps, his body instinctively shifting closer to Victim. But Victim held him still with a steady hand, his voice low and commanding. "Stay still," he ordered, the faintest growl underlining his words.
Agent’s breath hitched as he struggled to comply, his body writhing beneath the overwhelming sensations. A sharp cry broke free as Victim began to move his fingers, withdrawing two while keeping the others inside, slow and deliberate in every motion.
Overwhelmed, Agent was lost in a storm of sounds—his own desperate moans and whimpers blending into the heavy silence of the room. His senses blurred as Victim shifted his focus, one hand wrapping firmly around Agent’s length, stroking rapidly with an unrelenting pace.
"Please... please," Agent managed to stammer, his trembling hand reaching for Victim’s wrist, only to falter as the overwhelming sensations consumed him. His head fell back, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he surrendered to the moment.
For a fleeting instant, the pain in his side was forgotten.
When Victim finally paused and removed his fingers, Agent whimpered at the sudden emptiness. "I think you’re ready now," Victim remarked with a sly smirk, his tone teasing as he unbuckled his belt and slid his pants and boxers down in one fluid motion. He leaned back in his chair, gesturing for Agent to come forward.
With shaky hands, Agent pushed himself up, his legs still trembling as he watched Victim slowly stroke himself in preparation. The unspoken command was clear, and Agent swallowed hard before positioning himself over Victim’s lap, gripping the backrest of the chair for support.
"Take your time," Victim murmured, his voice unusually soft as he steadied Agent, positioning him carefully.
Agent hesitated, his breaths shallow, before slowly lowering himself. A sharp gasp escaped his lips as he moved too quickly, but Victim caught him, steadying his hips. "Slow down; you’re hurting yourself," Victim said, guiding Agent with careful precision until he was fully seated.
"Ah… " Agent moaned, his forehead pressing against Victim’s shoulder as his body trembled with every slight movement. He whimpered as Victim began to shift his hips, the motion drawing a cry from Agent as the intensity surged through him. His fingers dug into the chair’s backrest as he panted, "I... I can’t take much," his words breaking into another moan when Victim suddenly lifted him and thrust him back down.
Agent’s cries filled the air as Victim took control, guiding his movements with firm hands on his waist. For a brief moment, Agent glanced down, catching sight of the connection between them before his eyes fluttered closed again, his body overwhelmed. Seeing Victim’s cock inside him—heat continued to pool under his stomach.
Agent can barely think at all.
For the first time, Agent felt a flicker of control. He pushed Victim’s hands away from his waist and began moving on his own, his pace deliberate and teasing. Victim’s eyes snapped open, his jaw tightening as a curse escaped his lips.
"Fuck! You’re—" he started, but his words were cut off as Agent leaned in, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Like this?" Agent asked, his voice low and teasing before he threw his head back, a loud moan escaping him as Victim’s length hit a deeper, sensitive spot.
The tension in the room thickened as Victim’s hands returned to Agent’s waist, gripping him tighter. The sharp pressure of his fingers digging into Agent’s wound sent a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through him. Agent cried out, tears streaking his flushed cheeks as Victim growled, "Pick up the pace," his voice rough with urgency.
Agent obeyed, his movements growing faster and more desperate despite the strain on his body. His cries grew louder, his breath coming in ragged gasps as Victim’s hand found the back of his neck, pulling him down into a deep, consuming kiss.
Their tongues tangled, and Agent whimpered into the kiss as Victim bit down on his neck, the sharp sensation sending him reeling.
"Please," Agent gasped, his voice trembling as he fought against the overwhelming mix of sensations—pain, pleasure, and exhaustion all colliding at once. "Don’t stop," he begged, his body faltering but still pushing forward, driven by the intensity of it all.
Victim’s grip tightened, their rhythm quickening as the moment consumed them both. Agent’s vision blurred, his mind clouded as dizziness began to take hold, but he pressed on, letting the sensations carry him into a haze that felt both unbearable and intoxicating.
Agent isn’t sure if it was the pleasure or the pain mixing, but everytime he closes his eyes. He swears he could see stars.
He slowly came to a stop, his legs shaking, his breaths coming in pants.
"Nhh... I'm so tired," Agent murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion as he leaned closer to Victim, his head coming to rest on his shoulder.
His hips moved lazily against Victim, his motions sluggish and unsteady. It was clear from Victim's expression that he wanted a faster pace, but Agent's weariness left him unable to comply. "Please... guide me. I'm feeling weak," Agent whispered, his eyelids drooping as if he were on the verge of sleep.
Recognizing Agent's struggle, Victim sighed softly and took control. His hands gripped Agent's waist, guiding his movements with precision. A sharp cry escaped Agent's lips, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Startled by the volume, Victim smirked and reached up, covering Agent's mouth. "You're being too loud," he teased, his tone playful but firm as he synchronized their movements.
Despite his exhaustion, Agent's body betrayed him, a surge of sensations coursing through him as he neared his limit. His muffled sounds—half pleasure, half relief—spilled against Victim's hand. As the tension within him reached its breaking point, Agent climaxed with a shuddering cry. Victim grunted, his grip tightening as he pulled Agent closer, both of them teetering on the edge of release.
Agent whimpered softly, his body still moving against Victim, though his strength was clearly fading. His vision blurred, his mind hazy from the overwhelming sensations.
"Keep going," Victim commanded, his voice husky with desire, urging Agent to continue despite his evident fatigue. "I can't... please," Agent panted, though his hips continued moving on instinct, picking up a desperate rhythm that left him lightheaded.
A final groan escaped Victim as he gripped Agent's waist tightly, his body tensing. Agent felt a sudden warmth inside him, and his movements slowed as Victim let out a deep, satisfied sigh. "That's enough," Victim muttered weakly, his tone soft but resolute.
Agent let out a low hum of acknowledgment, his body gradually coming to a halt. Victim remained inside him, his hands resting on Agent's waist as he caught his breath. Agent, meanwhile, looked utterly spent—his head drooping, his breath ragged, and his half-lidded eyes dazed. Marks adorned his neck and shoulders, and his dress shirt hung loosely off one side, barely clinging to him.
Victim gazed up at Agent, a flicker of desire reigniting as he took in the sight before him. The thought of continuing, perhaps this time over the desk, flitted through his mind.
"Mnnnh," a pained groan slipped from Agent's lips, breaking Victim's train of thought. His brow furrowed as he looked up. "What's the matter?" he asked, his tone shifting to concern. He felt something warm and sticky on his hands, and his gaze dropped to his fingers. His stomach churned as he realized what it was—blood.
"What the fuck, Agent?" Victim exclaimed, his eyes widening as Agent slumped against him. A faint smile played on Agent's lips, but his expression was a mix of pain and lingering pleasure. His breaths came shallow and uneven, his eyes fluttering half-closed.
Victim's gaze darted to Agent's side, where blood seeped through his shirt, staining the fabric and dripping onto Victim's hands. "Crap," Victim muttered under his breath, panic creeping into his voice as the reality of the situation sank in.
His eyes flicked back to Agent, whose body had grown heavier against him, his strength clearly waning. The blood continued to pool, soaking through both of their clothes as Victim cursed under his breath, realizing the mess they'd gotten themselves into.
[...]
Agent let out a soft groan, his head lolling to the side as he blinked drowsily. A persistent throb radiated from his side, pulling him further from the haze of sleep.
"You didn’t mention you were injured," Victim said, his voice sharp yet laced with concern. He sat on a cheap plastic chair, legs crossed, his posture rigid. A frown creased his face as he kept his gaze fixed on Agent, who seemed momentarily disoriented.
Agent blinked, glancing around the room before responding, his tone tinged with embarrassment. "I didn’t think it was that serious," he admitted, his fingers twitching slightly against the sheets.
Victim sighed, exhaling slowly as he ran a hand over his face, the faintest hint of frustration creeping into his expression. "You bled on me," he said, his voice carrying a mix of annoyance and exasperation as he gestured at his stained shirt.
Agent tried to push himself upright, his movements sluggish and unsteady, but Victim was quick to intervene. "Don’t," he ordered, his voice firm as he placed a steady hand on Agent’s shoulder. "You’re still badly hurt. Just lie down and rest."
Reluctantly, Agent let out a frustrated groan and eased back against the pillows, leveling a weak glare at Victim. "I’ve endured much worse conditions," he muttered, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I believe I can manage this."
"No," Victim said flatly, cutting off any further argument. Without hesitation, he stood and moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down beside Agent. Before Agent could react, Victim wrapped an arm around him and gently pulled him close, resting Agent’s head against his chest.
"What—" Agent began, his voice tinged with confusion. But his words faltered as he felt Victim’s hand move to his hair, fingers threading through it in slow, soothing motions.
"Just sleep, Agent," Victim murmured softly, his tone losing its earlier edge. His voice carried a calm warmth now, almost tender. "I’m exhausted too, so let’s rest together, alright?" he added, the faintest hum accompanying his words.
Agent blinked up at him, his confusion giving way to a flicker of something unspoken in his gaze. The steady rhythm of Victim’s heartbeat filled his ears, grounding him as the tension in his body began to melt away.
"Sleep," Victim repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, continuing to stroke Agent’s hair in a rhythmic motion. A shiver ran through Agent at the gentle touch, his breath hitching briefly before evening out.
For a moment, Agent hesitated, his mind still racing despite the overwhelming fatigue weighing on him. But the warmth of Victim’s presence and the soothing repetition of his words were enough to draw him into a state of calm.
Agent let out a faint hum in acknowledgment, nodding slightly as his eyelids grew heavier. His breathing slowed, his body relaxing fully as he surrendered to the soft lull of Victim’s voice and touch. Within moments, he drifted into sleep, the persistent ache in his side momentarily forgotten.
Victim glanced down at the now-sleeping Agent, his features softening as he continued to run his hand through Agent’s hair. "Good," he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else, as he leaned back against the headboard, allowing his own eyes to close.
CTTO: JMLILAC