Chapter 1: Disastrous? No. Dangerous.
Chapter Text
SAIKI KUSUO
Society as a whole, is not entirely divided. There are individuals that exist who are assigned a secondary sex aside from male or female. Otherwise known as dynamics, these power differences are separated into two broad categories; people who are dominant, and people who are submissive. Essentially, it’s SM.
I bounce my leg a little, staring blankly at the computer screen as words and numbers blur into nearly incomprehensible things. Time is going too slow. It makes even me, who lives the same routine every single day, a little restless.
…What was that? You want more information on this world? Good grief, fine…
Doms are more or less 10% of the population. Their instincts consist of the desire to praise, discipline, protect, and so on. Subs are also around 10% of the population, and their instincts are characterized by the desire to be praised, disciplined, protected, and so on. In which, the two go together to create a perfect pairing. That’s the majority of it, at least. More will be explained throughout the story…
On the rarer end, Switches exist as people who experience the urges of both a Dom and a Sub, and they have more flexibility on the characteristics they want to stick to. Recently, I’ve estimated the Switch population and concluded the total to be around 1.5% of people in the world. These people are more unheard of, but they do exist.
I would know. There’s this idiotic, sadomasochistic perverted person that I am by chance related to by blood. My older brother, Kusuke, is one of them unfortunately, and has found ways to use it against me all throughout my childhood. Not in an entirely sexual way, I think. Or at least I try not to think. He’s eased up a bit since then. Not that I care enough to remember anyway, but I digress.
All I know is that I’ve achieved this mediocre life as a corporate employee, full of stability and absolutely no surprises while managing to suppress my desires as a Sub.
That’s right. I am Saiki Kusuo, a healthy adult male with psychic abilities. My second sex is Sub.
My fingers graze the keyboard, hovering but not pressing down on any of the keys. I don’t type anything; I only drown in the regret of staying up late last night to finish that manga. Thanks to that, I was unable to get a full night of sleep and I missed my opportunity to buy breakfast by running late to work.
How despicable. I almost feel like my incompetent father, and that’s a big insult to even myself. And in case you are curious, he is also a Sub.
It sort of disgusts me to remember my own dynamic as a Sub. I guess I don’t feel pathetic anymore, but I am not exactly proud of my second sex.
A Doms desire to rule… a Subs desire to be ruled… I was exposed to those types of things at a young age due to my telepathy. Regarding that and types of play, I’ve seen the worst of it all first hand, hence why I don’t want to get involved in any of it. The normality of play before, during, or after sex is slightly exaggerated, but it is also not, which makes me even less interested in participating in it. Even now at the age of 22, I have never engaged in the activities of one. Of a Sub.
A shiver runs down my spine as I recall the dirty images of ‘play.’ Subs, being whipped and practically tortured, gasping and moaning in some sort of pleasure pain that they somehow loved. I don’t understand how anyone could enjoy it. It’s…
Disgusting. No… scary. It’s scary. I will never understand the joy of being at someone’s mercy. I would never want to lose control of myself by putting my trust into a Dom. Just the idea of handing myself over makes me sick. All of that stuff is way too extreme and meaningless and complicated.
I swallow thickly, feeling an unsettling wave of nausea swirl in my stomach. I’ve been a little under the weather lately, but I assume it’s just the type of week it’s been. Thank God it’s Friday.
Everything will be fine as long as I have the medication that my older brother created for me. With it, I can continue to live this peaceful life without ever acknowledging this side of me.
My gaze shifts from the desktop and over at the two men bickering by their sections. The short one, Kaidou, and the stupid tall one with…
I don’t even want to try describing that man’s looks, but I know his name is Nendou. His brain is a rock. There is absolutely nothing that goes on inside of there. I don’t know if he is a Dom or a Switch or even a normal human being. He’s so unpredictable it creeps me out. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were an alien.
Kaidou and Nendou are—as they come—incredibly odd. Entirely out of place (and order.) In the two months I’ve worked with them, I’ve realized how they managed to slip under the Team Leader’s radar almost every time. Luck, maybe? I don’t know, or care, really…
Kaidou may be a normal person as well. He doesn’t wear a ‘collar’ and I haven’t heard him say anything about his second sex. His conversations with Nendou generally revolve around how much they screw up their tasks.
Oh, I’m guessing you want to know what a collar is. For those who are unaware, collars are worn by Subs who have established a relationship with a Dom. Sometimes it isn’t even a collar—I’ve seen partners recognize a necklace or a ring as one. I suppose anything works.
My stomach growls hungrily, making me feel more nauseous and sickly. Again, I assume it’s because today is one of those days and because I missed breakfast. But for some reason, this feels worse. I’m starting to believe that this gnawing feeling inside my chest won’t stay light for long. Geez, what a pain. It’s only a matter of time until my anxiety rises. Then I’ll experience confusion. Then dizziness and lethargy and as follows; all the traits a Sub must suffer because of resisting the nature of their dynamic. And I know I am not able to fully reject my instincts without feeling the effects.
I truly hate the second sex. I should have erased it a long time ago.
With a sigh, I tiredly look over my desk space once more. My energy is at zero…
It’s not like this job is hard. It’s quite easy actually, just really deliberate and time consuming. But today is going abnormally slow, even for a psychic like me. I wonder if it has anything to do with my weird coworkers, who are still going at it. Do they not realize they’re supposed to be working?
“You’ve input these numbers incorrectly! How do you expect me to pass this on to the TL?!”
“Eh? I just put whatever there, shortie! I think you should fix it…”
“Don’t call me that in a work space, you big oaf! And this is your work, why should I have to fix it?!”
What are you, children? Get a grip.
As the two men bicker, I slowly breathe in, hoping some of the tension would go away. I stretch my fingers out before picking up a small stack of papers, straightening it by tapping it against the surface of my desk. My area is a little messy, and I can’t exactly focus on any work like this, so tidying up will be the best course of action to pass some time until I can finally go for lunch.
Nendou and Kaidou stop their playful banter a few minutes later. I glance up at the clock, realizing my lunch break started. I stand up and adjust my clear lens glasses, feeling a small urge to to smile. I school my expression before my lips can even twitch upwards, obviously, though I guess I am excited to eat.
As soon as I so much as take a step, Kaidou calls out to me.
“Hey, Saiki!”
I already know what he is going to ask, and the answer is no. Still, I reluctantly stay in place as he approaches me with a friendly smile that I don’t return.
“There’s gonna be a team dinner tonight. You should totally come!”
No, thanks.
“Awesome! I’ll see you there!”
I missed the part where I agreed to that.
Without so much as even confirming my availability, Kaidou turns and walks off somewhere to take his break, his thoughts bright and joyous at the fact that I “accepted” his invitation. He didn’t even give me any details or anything.
For some reason, I frown a little. Kaidou seems happy right now, but he can’t be upset when I don’t show up to something I never agreed to. I guess I’ll read his mind to find the location of the restaurant…
No, what am I thinking?
I shake that thought out of my head before making my way to the break room to pick up the coffee I should have consumed hours ago. Before I even open the door, I am able to hear the soft whir of the coffee machine. That coffee smell is extravagant. Exactly what I need to get through today.
I push open the door and see one of my co-workers. My heart drops to the floor, my gaze just as quick. I refuse to look him in the eye.
Kuboyasu Aren. Age 22. A Dom. Popular in our department, and looks incredibly good in his tailored suit and fitted pants.
If there is anyone who hates me more than me, it is him.
When his eyes sweep across the room and land on me, I repress a shiver and stand up straighter. Deep blue eyes bore into me, barely masking a brewing storm that threatens to unleash chaos and throw everything out of balance. It’s full of hatred—a sort of retribution that he looks at only me with.
“Oh, Saiki,” he says my name like I am a mere fleeting presence, but he bows his head in greeting anyway.
It’s condescending in a way, even though I do my absolute best to fit that description. I’ve curated so much effort to settle into this somewhat normal life after all. Being a ghost feels almost similar to the current life I live, so I have no complaints about that.
I force a polite nod, trying not to acknowledge the cold unwelcoming gaze that follows me as I cross the room towards the coffee machine. My knees almost buckle under me—a warning sign that my body is betraying me. And I know why, too.
Because a part of me is terrified.
I hate that look. I hate how my heart rate picks up a little each time I see it. It’s difficult to look him in the eye because of his overpowering stare.
The glare of a Dom is a great weakness for any Sub. It’s sort of a conscious intimidation tactic that Doms usually use to express malice. Unfortunately, I have to deal with this nearly everyday at work because of Kuboyasu. His thoughts don’t exactly tell me much aside from how much he despises my presence and wants to beat me into a pulp, but I wonder if I did anything else to upset him lately. Like, right now, actually.
It was surprising to me how fast he managed to figure out my dynamic. In fact, it had been the first day we met at the office. He’s hated me ever since, though the feeling is mutual.
I take an empty cup, my brow furrowing when my hand trembles. Seriously? Now is not the time. Explaining myself would be a pain if Kuboyasu were to see, and in these recent months, I’ve noticed how perceptive he is and how aware he is of everything I do.
The Sub in me grasps me with this urge to submit every time he looks at me with those sharp, calculating eyes. I can’t ever read the darkness behind them, that underlying storm of muddled feelings.
The scariest part about it is that I have no idea why he looks at me that way. Like he would use his hands to tear me to pieces if he could do so legally. Morally speaking, he is very against that, though bits and pieces of his thoughts in past settings tell me a part of him actually used to indulge in that stuff. More than he should, probably. And that’s also kind of scary given that he is downright mysterious himself, but our female colleagues go crazy over him regardless.
Dangerous, I think with a hasty click of the button that starts the machine.
Hot black coffee begins pouring into the cup. The steam swallows me in a similar way Kuboyasu’s gaze does. Its presence is heavy and fascinating, strong enough to make my skin prickle and my stomach twist uncomfortably.
Before I even realize, fast uncoordinated breaths escape my trembling lips. I bite them to keep quiet, hoping that Kuboyasu would by some miracle leave me alone in the break room.
He does not.
I shift on my feet nervously, glancing in his direction. He is leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. He is also obviously aware of my presence, still on guard and eyeing me with that look of discontent.
I don’t know why he hates me. I don’t know why it makes my skin crawl or why the Sub in me makes me want to curl in on myself and hide. Away from that gaze, away from that terrifying sight again.
I feel its effect everywhere in my body. Physically and mentally.
Kuboyasu's eyes widen in what is probably recognition. ‘He looks like he’s…’
Shit. This isn’t good… Damn it.
I am entering the state called Sub Drop. It shows up in Subs when they repress their nature and/or don’t participate in play for an extended amount of time. In my case, it’s both, but I have never participated in play, so I’m probably experiencing it worse.
This is faster than I’ve ever been subjected to before, no pun intended. Also incredibly humiliating. I’ll never forgive him for this.
Kuboyasu probably doesn’t realize the effect he has on my body. I can’t believe that his stare alone is enough to send me into a spiral. But I need to grasp those loose reins of control and keep it in check, ensuring it never slips again.
As his eyes continue to roam over my form, my mind and body shut down faster than I can adjust to. I don’t want to throw up, but my mouth salivates in preparation for vomit.
If he were to notice… If he were to notice…
He would try and dominate me, wouldn’t he?
Tch. Me? Dominated?
Every aspect of this world lies within the palm of my hand. It wouldn’t even be a challenge to wipe out the whole existence of life, or even the simple concept of control. I want to laugh at the idea of him possibly trying something, but my instincts seem to love that more than anything. Moreover, I’m about to pass out.
I hold my breath. Forgetting my coffee, my legs carry me towards the door again. Every alarm that could possibly blare in my head goes off when Kuboyasu calls out my name. If I were to assume, I’d say he sounded a little concerned just then, but that is not the focus of my thoughts as I rush over to the nearest bathroom and wobble into the stall, bracing myself over the toilet as my stomach contents build up in my throat.
My chest heaves for a second time, and I almost choke on my breath as I reach into my pocket to pull out a pack of suppressants. My shaky hands work to remove two tablets before I pop them into my mouth. I swallow the pills dry, the bitter and metallic taste lingering in the back of my throat. If there is any temporary solution to this guttural feeling pulsing through my veins, it is this one. It has to be.
Because I don’t want to resort to him.
000
Ten minutes passed, and my symptoms only got worse. That’s why I find myself here right now—as much as I don’t want to be, because I did end up having to resort to him.
“Kusuo,” my brother says in a slightly amused tone before walking over to me. He immediately notices my lethargic state and my hunched stance. “You—”
“Stop,” I say, clutching my hand over my stomach. Even if he isn’t necessarily glaring at me, I can’t handle the gaze of a Dom right now.
“…Did you come to see me?” He quips with a grin, and I side-step him when he tries to hug me.
I blatantly ignore the suspicious syringe in his hand and use my sleeve to wipe the corner of my mouth. Teleporting to London in the midst of an oncoming drop only made me more queasy, and I am already angry enough that I had to come here in the first place.
As I work to stabilize my erratic breathing, I glance around the dark lab; lit only by glowing buttons of machinery and TV screens much larger than necessary. It smells of chemicals and something oddly fresh; artificially so.
There is a long moment where none of us speak. During that time, I focus on regulating any lingering symptoms of my previous drop. When I look at Kusuke, he crosses his arms, waiting for me to talk.
Fine.
“…Two things,” I turn to him and gesture with my hand. “One, I didn’t come here for you. Two, my medication isn’t working anymore. I need a stronger dose or something.”
“Hm? The medication doesn’t work anymore? I assume your symptoms are the same?”
I sigh before saying, “yeah. Same as before, just a lot worse and the meds are completely ineffective…”
Kusuke hums thoughtfully as he looks me over. “Sub Drop, huh? You do seem more pale than usual. And your eye bags are bad this time. Your skin is dull too… Let me guess, you stayed up late last night reading manga and drank water to fix it but didn’t actually eat anything besides the meds you took and since that didn’t work you came here hoping I could create a stronger dose for you?”
As he hits all the nails, I find myself wanting to foam at the mouth. This unfathomable rage boils in my stomach, but I completely mask it by only narrowing my eyes.
Kusuke speaks again. “Well, I could create a stronger dose… But as you know, your mind and abilities are continuously evolving and adapting to your body, so it’s no surprise that it would eventually break down and overcome the direct effects of the drugs.” His lips twitch into a small, stiff smile. “Even if I create another one, the medication will only last for so long, Kusuo.”
I stand up straighter. “…You’re telling me there’s nothing you can do? Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he affirms with a shrug. “I mean, I could create a stronger version of the pill, but considering the way your body keeps rejecting these drugs, I’d doubt it’d be any more effective than the current prescription I gave you… You’ll only keep falling into Sub Drop.”
So what he is trying to say is…
“It’s hopeless?” I mutter bemused as I glance down at the tile ground. I wonder if it will open up and swallow me already. Though that’d be wishful thinking.
Kusuke looks at me for a moment. His expression is indifferent, his gaze cold and unwavering, but I can never really understand him or what he is thinking.
“…No, it’s not exactly hopeless. You’re going to hate hearing this, but your only solution right now is to find yourself a partner and play.” He clasps his hands together and I clench my fists. “Well, unless you stay with me for a bit, maybe I can run a few tests on your body and figure something out! What do you say, Kusuo–”
Not needing to hear the rest of his nonsensical bullshit, I grit my teeth and teleport into my room, falling back onto my bed. I inhale slowly.
Akechi warned me about this multiple times. Aiura too, with her visions. But… I didn’t expect for this to turn against me so quickly.
Good grief. I should feel relieved that there even is a solution, but my body remains tense.
My gaze flits over to my open hand that rests beside my head. I close my fingers before opening them again, then closing. Squeezing. Releasing. I do this for a while until I get bored of moping.
A solution, huh?
…Sigh. I never would’ve imagined that it would’ve come to this. This situation is actually really pitiful.
Lunch break ends in twenty minutes. I go on my phone and search up play. Of course, the results are communication, general commands and praises, #10 best types of hardcore play between partners, Sub aftercare, and expensive collars and whatnot.
I am immediately disinterested, but I know that if I don’t do this, my physical and mental state will spiral into further collapse. There really is only so much time.
I end up searching matchmaking websites and find the first search to be a government operated site. I am vaguely intrigued, so I click on it, not knowing exactly what to expect.
The site loads to a page describing the matchmaking system and how it works. I don’t care, so I just jump into the questionnaire. It’s actually very detailed and well thought out. Completely free of charge, too.
I answer them all truthfully and press complete. For something like this, it’s better to get accurate results. And if this system ends up failing me, I’ll simply hack the servers and put the site down for good… force the government to create a better one than some goddamn fraud.
As I wait for my results, I realize I may have exaggerated a bit. This may actually work. If I do a play with this Dom once, then my body will return to it’s natural state and I can go back to my normal life. This is… this is all I need, really! Now, show me my partner…!
I watch eagerly as the screen loads to a confirmation page that explains the details about a Match found! and the name of the location to the closest hotel run by their program. Pressing confirm means it will automatically schedule a meeting for me and this… match… tomorrow at 2 PM.
In other words; I will meet this Dom, and for the first time in my life, I will participate in play. I just have to accept the terms.
My body shudders from absolutely nothing again. I shove away my pesky nerves and press ‘confirm’ before tossing my phone aside and sinking into my pillows. That heavy weight on my body lingers. I think that eventually, time will slowly drain this dread out of me. Or maybe play will do it, but I have yet to decide that right now.
By the time I tear myself out of bed, there is only less than five minutes left until my break ends. Within the blink of an eye, I am standing in the bathroom stall at my workplace again.
I take a moment before placing my hand on the unlocked handle, turning it to open the door. The first thing I see is myself through the single mirror that stretches across the sleek marble counter. My skin is disturbingly pale—as if I hadn’t slept in days. The deep, reflecting purple of my own eyes highlight the warring trouble I am facing. This sullen shade is a single reminder of the losing battle I am fighting.
I know I can’t win, but I won’t fall into its rules yet. I’ll do anything to resist those instinctive urges and their meaningless whispers.
I won’t submit.
This line repeats in my head in a trance-like cadence as I step outside the restroom and walk in the direction of my department. The hallway is clear of anyone, and the large floor-to-ceiling windows allow the sunlight to scatter in and paint the walls in a warm glow. This building isn’t the tallest one, but the city view remains gorgeous at this level.
Aiura always tells me to appreciate scenery more, so that’s what I’m doing. She’s been my closest friend since high school, and I already know she will flip out when she finds out I’m going to do play tomorrow. The only reason she hasn’t yet flipped out is because she wasn’t stalking me through a bedazzled reflection today. I’ll have to remember to call her when I get home.
I rip my gaze away from the windows when I enter the office. I breeze by a few of my co-workers, nodding in greeting but not saying anything otherwise. They don’t seem to mind anymore. They recognize how I’m not bothered enough to acknowledge them with a proper greeting unless it’s a higher-up.
Is it rude? Perhaps. Can you blame me? Also perhaps… but I’m not here to make friends, so I’ll stick to the conscious decision of living as a ghost.
Apparently, I exist physically in some form because a voice acknowledges me specifically. It’s not a command—not even close to being one—but the owner of those authoritative yet hesitant sounding words forces my body to a halt.
“…Saiki.” Kuboyasu says from somewhere behind me. I freeze. “You, uh, doing alright? You looked pretty upset back there.”
Why me.
Then with that annoyingly casual attitude, Kuboyasu walks ahead of me, examining, or rather drinking in my stiff form. I’ve since erased any trace of my previous Sub Drop, so he shouldn’t suspect anything, but he shouldn’t be staring at me like this either.
Dangerous.
I nod in response, noticing that for some reason, his thoughts seem even more impenetrable as he stares me down with that itching scrutiny. Actually, no. It’s not that I can’t read his mind, it’s just that every single thought is focused on… me. Not just hatred, but—
“I didn’t see you at the cafeteria earlier. Don’t you need to eat something?” He asks, genuinely curious.
Huh. I may be reaching, but he’s suddenly acting very friendly.
I hardly glance up as I reply, “I’m okay, thanks.” And I hope he gets the hint that I don’t want to speak to him anymore, because I don’t.
Naturally, he doesn’t get the hint. At this point, I consider using that face to get him off my tail.
“Alright… Hey, so… the TL’s throwing dinner with the team tonight.”
I already know this, but I don’t say anything as Kuboyasu’s lips twist into this sort of wolfish grin that I have never seen before. It deeply unsettles me.
“Drinks are on him this time. You’re coming, right?”
For a second, I blink absentmindedly before I process the question fully. His dark eyes tear into me again, but this is different. Heavier and more intent, enough to force a thrilling jolt of fear down my spine. The low glint in his eyes speak volumes to me, and suddenly, I am able to access his mind. It tells me everything—he wants to take. Everything. From me. My control. My body and mind. I hear it in his blunt thoughts and see it in the split second his gaze flicks down to my lips, studying me in a way I fail to understand in the moment.
I take it back. It’s not friendly at all, it’s… instinct. He knows I’m experiencing a low, and he wants to step in as a Dom to ease me out of it, right? That’s all pure and raw, unadulterated instinct. The idea may sound sweet, but it is not at all what you’re thinking.
Being claimed, taken, controlled. I want to glare at him, but I squeeze my hands into fists instead. Now I realize another thing;
At that damn dinner, I’m going to need a drink or few in me by the end of the night.
Chapter Text
SAIKI KUSUO
The lively energy that buzzes through the restaurant is palpable. Laughter and clinking glasses of beer fill the air—the typical sound of a bunch of overworked adults getting hammered on a Friday night. In a way, it’s somewhat soothing.
My ears are ringing, my head flooded with this distinguishable warmth as I grip the glass in my hand. Maybe this is what I needed. To get hammered on a Friday night after another week of routine work.
The TL—a middle aged man with a smile much too bright for his line of work—stands up from his seat to announce that another round of drinks are on their way. My co-workers cheer loudly, but the volume of their excitement instantly gives me a headache.
Good grief… Maybe I overdid it instead.
But even with that acknowledgement, I appreciatively accept the shot a random colleague pours me, watching as she reluctantly moves to pour one for Nendou as well. Poor guy, he probably doesn’t even realize how uncomfortable he is making her by simply existing.
Hold on. Can he even get drunk?
Curiosity wins, and I glance over to my left again. Nendou shoots her a grin and a loud “thanks!” as he picks up the shot, downing it in one go. It took three seconds for my enhanced eyesight to break through his skin and follow the stream of liquor going down his esophagus, the muscles of his neck expanding and contracting as he swallows it. I decide to look away before the liquor reaches his small intestine. The sight was gross, if I’m being honest. X-ray vision remains another one of my curses.
I glance down at my empty shot glass before looking straight ahead. Thankfully, the person sitting across from me has left their seat, so I am free to stare at the wall.
Kuboyasu is staring at me. Blatantly so. I hope he doesn’t think anything of my own staring. I like to believe I had lost that habit, but every now and then it likes to come out.
For a minute there, I almost forgot that I had been seated next to him for an entire hour, squished between him and Nendou’s ridiculously large bodies. It was slightly uncomfortable, and I tried not to focus on how small I felt being crushed between them.
Obviously, I recognized Kuboyasu’s overpowering presence from the start—it was impossible not to after all, although we barely exchanged any words aside from an awkward greeting. He had successfully gone through the hour without staring me down like a goddamn piece of candy. Well, up until now.
His thoughts are a complete wreck as well. Racing and unfocused. Wild and rampant. I’m no stranger to his extremely disconcerting thoughts. The things I usually make out are about me and have always been as of late. Like now for example—Saiki’s stupid face pisses me off. Saiki looks so dumb it makes me angry.—Isn’t that the same as your first thought?—Saiki needs to stop looking at me like that before I… Saiki smells good tonight. Saiki shouldn’t drink so much!
Wait, what was with that third one? Forget it. Get out of my head already.
I gently shake my head, imagining as if I were actually shaking his thoughts out of my head. That would be amazing if that were possible.
But I don’t want to focus on that right now. My brain doesn’t. My body doesn’t. Neither does my exhaustion, so I simply raise my empty shot glass for someone to pour something into. Anything will do.
The alcohol is messing with my reaction time, because I blink and Kuboyasu has already finished pouring me a shot. Without so much as a thought, I put the glass to my lips, tilting my head back to drink it all. The liquor is cold as it washes over my tongue, lighting a trail of fire in each one of my taste buds. My throat burns when I swallow, but it feels unexpectedly nice. Nicer than usual. I suppose it’s because I don’t usually go to these outings.
After I procrastinate for another few minutes and down yet another shot, I rise to my feet to use the restroom and accidentally bump into something close to me. Whether it’s a table or a human, I mumble something like an apology before continuing my plan: Reach the bathroom without getting killed, successfully use it without bumping into another person or object, and return safely without killing anyone on the way. It sounds simple, but it’s actually not given my current state.
I am… drunk.
Don’t get me wrong, this is certainly not my first time, nor is it the last. I just didn’t expect to go all out like this. At least the first step to my plan is halfway done.
Dim lantern lights hang from the ceiling, barely making the path ahead of me visible. But maybe that’s just my head. And while I’m not sober enough to recognize who they are just yet, I notice a presence following me down the hallway.
Who the hell is this? A co-worker? A Nendou? Ah, even worse, it’s Kuboyasu. Those borderline predatory thoughts are unmistakably his, no matter how intoxicated I may be.
I don’t know his purpose for following me, but he’d better keep his hands off me. Better yet, his claws. Who knows what type of demon he might be masking under that charming smile? I am still shaken despite the brevity of it earlier. And why did I just think of it as charming? It’s scary if anything.
I stumble a little and place a hand to my forehead, feeling the burning heat of my skin. A woozy feeling settles into my skull, shifting into a dull, throbbing pain. A quiet groan leaves my mouth as I lean against the wall.
I definitely overdid it. I should call Aiura to pick me up. She will scold me for sure, but I’m too deep in this drunken state to care right now.
Before I can reach for my phone, a large hand finds a grip onto my shoulder. I open one eye, unsure of when I had even closed them, and look at Kuboyasu with what I hope is irritation.
This is a new breed of violence. Please get your hand off me.
When I sharpen my glare, he only looks at me amused and a little… concerned? I must be imagining it. He hates my guts, and that shouldn’t exactly change within a few hours.
I think I hear him say something like, “Saiki, you—” but I hiccup loudly. Embarrassingly.
I cover my mouth, narrowing my eyes at him as if it were his fault. It totally was. All of it is his fault. This wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for… What am I even blaming him for again? If I’m blaming him, it must have something to do with him. He’s Kuboyasu after all.
Another hiccup escapes my throat, and I want to die. The storm in Kuboyasu’s eyes is replaced by this empty void, and that deep, consuming blue swallows me like a black hole. And as if it were nothing, his mind casually conjures up the weirdest thought ever: that was fucking adorable.
On the outside, he just blinks at me before lightly patting my shoulder. “You should call it a night.”
…Excuse me? Does he think I’m a kid? I was just about to call it a night, but being treated in such a manner ticks me off in the worst possible way. Screw you, Kuboyasu. I won’t listen to your stupid demands… and what was with that thought? You’re supposed to hate…
Pain shoots through my head again, making me wobble and reach both hands up to my aching skull. God, I’m going to collapse. Does alcohol affect me worse because I’m a suffering Sub? Could that be it…? Am I still in Sub Drop? Because really, I think the only reason I am still standing right now is because of the wall and Kuboyasu’s hand around my bicep.
Danger… or, is it? My judgement is so clouded, I don’t know anything for sure anymore.
He says something to me, and I say something back. I’m pretty sure my response is incomprehensible because he just frowns and tells me, “I’ll call a taxi.”
I narrow my eyes in disdain. “I don’t need you… to…”
“Saiki,” he says to me in a warning tone as he takes a small step.
My heart rate spikes, and that single beat ripples throughout every part of my body. I step back, only to realize that I am still pressed against the wall. He doesn’t make any other move, but I scan my surroundings anyway, waiting for him to close the distance. To do anything.
I dare you to try something, Kuboyasu. I’ve been looking for an excuse to murder you.
Well, his thoughts don’t actually tell me he will take advantage of me, but I don’t know how true that is. People can think one thing and truly mean something entirely different. It’s a subconscious connection between the brain and the heart—something that I don’t quite fully understand yet, so I won’t take his word for it.
He looks at me, eyes narrowed and reflecting. A shudder rips through me again, and I feel the air leave my lungs, replaced by a thick sense of dread.
This is… S-Sub Drop? Why now?
Kuboyasu notices the exact moment something is off. Clearly, he’s caught off guard from the way he steps back. The world spins around me in a hazy blur, my breaths coming short.
I’m experiencing another drop… why? Why is my body reacting like this…? This makes me feel so exposed. Like I’m vulnerable—which I am not, by the way.
The moment I stumble forward and latch onto him, I hate myself beyond any point of return. But that self-loathing vanishes just as quick with the alcohol running through my fucked up system.
He begins to take me somewhere. Somewhere in the direction of the group. I find myself grateful that it wasn’t anywhere remote since it would leave me alone with him. My steps are precariously wobbly, but Kuboyasu guides me so that I don’t completely trip over my feet. His hold is careful, almost resistant, as if he doesn’t want to cross any boundaries with me.
Doms never have to worry about crossing boundaries. They just take and take, and honestly, it’s a pretty normal occurrence. A sad reality that takes place often in this wretched world.
So I wonder why he is acting so cautiously with me. Not that I’d let him control me. No. That would never happen, and through various experiences from past encounters with strangers, I can be resilient against any Dom with my aura alone.
Besides Kuboyasu.
Yeah, right. I can’t stand my own thoughts sometimes.
We return to the table and he helps me into my seat where I immediately sink against the chair. A few co-workers spare me pitiful and questioning glances, but I ignore them, closing my eyes and breathing in slowly. Kuboyasu reassures them by lying about how I’m feeling ill. When they settle down, I hear him calling the taxi company for a ride.
It’s weird. He’s weird. He could’ve just let me rot and have someone else deal with me, but he is going through the trouble for some reason…
The familiar sense of guilt flows into me; another weight added to what I’m already carrying. My own brain knows I will owe him for this. Debts and all. I can’t stand the idea of owing someone something, nor can I allow myself this treatment as if I were truly someone at risk of collapse.
I can’t let this happen again. For as long as I live, I’ll make sure to measure my alcohol intake down to the millimeter whenever I go out for drinks.
After he goes silent, I open my eyes and see him staring at me. A jolt of electricity shoots through my body. I wonder why that keeps happening.
KUBOYASU AREN
We wait outside in the cold night as I basically anchor Saiki’s body to ensure he doesn’t drop dead. The breeze is calm but the cold air surrounding us threatens to bite at our skin, pinching and prodding until it hurts. The longer we wait, the more it stabs at us.
Saiki really needs to pull himself together. My arm is around his shoulders, not his waist, because I’d rather die than hold him from there. He remains sluggish and sweaty despite the cold, and he’s been slipping in and out of consciousness for the last few minutes.
Still, as I’m holding him I realize I might’ve underestimated how rough these Subs have it. They deal with a lot of bullshit in general. I’m sure experiencing a drop is the cherry on the cake. That’s important to treat them carefully when they’re experiencing a drop, but it’s more common for them to find someone to play with during a time like this, even if I hate this Sub in particular.
I swallow my annoyance and lightly tap his arm. “Who can I contact?”
“No one,” Saiki grunts, running a hand through his dampened hair before he glares at his sweat-coated fingers.
No one? I find that hard to believe.
His hand flies to my back, gripping for stability. My hand that’s in my pants pocket suddenly feels sweaty, so I take it out and lightly shake it in the air.
“Do… Do you need the hospital?”
“…No. No hospitals… I don’t do hospitals.” He says in between breaths.
Saiki’s priorities are fucked. I guess he just doesn’t want to worry anyone.
“Address?”
No response, and I realize he fell unconcious again. What the hell. If I actually cared about him, I would be concerned with how easily he fell into a drop. He usually has a stick up his ass, so I’m surprised he let even his guard down like this. Like this, with me.
Surprised, but not upset.
And for what it’s worth, the selfish side of me sees this as an opportunity to thaw the thick sheet of ice between us.
After what felt like hours, the cab arrives in front of the restuarant, but it is enough time for Saiki to fall practically unconscious. I grab onto him and wake him up, and he curses at me under his breath, muttering about how he hates me or something. The audacity of this prick almost made me drop him right there, but I push away my anger and the low whisper I hear from my own head.
Most of his weight is against my body, allowing me to manuever him towards the cab that rolls in front of us. I open the door and get him in the back of the car, adjusting his body to what I assume is comfortable for the ride. After I close the door, I circle around the car and slide into the seat next to him.
Everything goes to shit the minute I settle my ass into the nice leather seat and give the driver my address. Saiki rests his head against my shoulder. If that wasn’t enough, he immediately adjusts, settling his face closer towards my neck to the point I swear I can feel his breath on my skin.
Fuck me sideways.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The hell? Is the sound of my heart pounding really that loud? Can he hear? Damn it. I want to kill him. I really do, because why the fuck is he laying on me right now as if he wasn’t just muttering curses at me?
I school my expression and stare forward, gripping the seat next to my thigh so hard I nearly tear into it. My gaze ends up dropping down to Saiki’s hair clips—pins, I think—but then I get distracted. Lost in observing the way his body settles against me, like a puzzle piece that was meant to fit.
His breathing is slow and calm, warm breaths fanning onto my neck in a ridiculously tantalizing manner that has me seething and grinding my teeth.
Are you kidding me?! This whole thing shocks me. Terribly. In a way that does nothing to help my situation. Saiki’s personality is instantly dry and cold, and there’s something so unreachable about him. Whenever I first saw him at the same office, I forced myself to accept the hopeless drywall that was instantly built between us. Between me and the entire rest of the world. I accepted it just like that, without ever saying anything unnecessary.
Until he continued to shackle me with chains around my neck, suffocating me and keeping me in a spot where I can only die as I observe from afar. All while he’s right there, practically taunting me from that enclosed circle of his. Yet when I see him like this, his skin is actually warm, betraying any of the iciness anyone would think he has. The contrast makes my heart stutter. It makes me want to lose any sort of resentment I used to hold against him. Makes me want to claim him as my own.
Mine.
I want him as mine alone, but his heart is somewhere else.
That is why I truly, really, deeply despise Saiki.
I tried to.
Now, I can’t find any other reason for holding this inane hatred. Least not after witnessing his Sub Drop. It means I at least might have the slightest chance for something, but then again, I don’t want to be getting my hopes up.
Then I think back to this afternoon. Before that, I had never felt a stronger urge to protect. And that’s surprising since I like to think of myself as a protector of others. Kind-hearted. Strong spirited. A good man overall, even after my rocky past with that streak of violence… But I never actually found someone who made my inner Dom purr.
Yeah. Fucking purr. As corny as it sounds, it’s the most fitting thing I can think of. That Sub Drop awakened something in me. Something that I locked away a long time ago that’s suddenly coming back to surface like a day at the beach.
Because I can’t stand that default solemn expression of his, or the paleness of his skin and the listlessness in his movements. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with its counterparts either, which will always bug me to step in and satisfy each desire one by one until there is none left.
But I can’t. It’s not my place to offer aid to a Sub who doesn’t need it, no matter how unhealthy he is. No matter how much I want him. No matter how much it kills me.
I wonder if he and his partner had a falling out.
Much to my amusement, Saiki is a heavy sleeper. He didn’t budge or so much as breathe differently when I carried him out of the car, only when I made him stand on his feet. Though he’s a fucking pain in the ass and I’m trying to keep him from slamming himself against every wall so we have a chance at reaching the elevator.
When we make it inside of there, he leans against me—again, pulling at something deep inside of me. My expression hardens and I loosen my tie, thinking back to how Saiki’s acted tonight. I never took him to be a reckless drunk. I never took him for anything more than a fellow co-worker or for what my instincts religiously reminded me of—a Sub. Not that I have any sort of biases against Subs, but as a Dom, it’s natural to remain constantly aware.
We exit the elevator and I lead him to my apartment. I release him for a second to unlock the door, trusting that he can manage on his own. Big mistake. Instead, Saiki manages to collapse against the wall behind me, knocking out one of his hair pins as he crashes on the floor.
“Saiki!” I curse, crouching down to lift his limp body off the ground.
I grab the hair clip to give it back, but I stop to examine every screw and piece that holds it together. My thumb brushes over the sharp needle-like edge of the white metal, my fingers twitching with a random urge to squeeze.
Crush it… Crush the only thing keeping him from you.
Not now, demon.
I narrow my eyes, though it’s not too different from how I’m already glaring at the peculiar item I am holding. When Saiki’s unconsciousness raises my attention again, I stop glaring and gently slide the hair pin back in place, my fingers freezing over the strands of hair.
Soft.
Saiki doesn’t wake up—not that I expect him to, so I circle one arm around his waist and lift him just like that, holding him by my hip as I fumble with the keys. He threatens to slip from my hold a few times, but I only tighten my arm around him as I insert the key and twist, trying not to think about the fact that I’m holding him by his waist.
He’s light, thankfully. And a handful. Literally and figuratively.
The apartment is dark when we walk in, but it has that nice quietness that I always like to come home to. I bring him to my room, fixing my grip on him and flicking on the lights in the process.
As soon as I lay him down on my bed, his pretty ass makes himself right at home before I can even think to breathe. Fucking adorable. I hate it.
I take his phone, stand up, and cross my arms as my lips curl into a small smirk. He’s so cute in my bed, it’s not even funny. I can die right here, but I want to kill him even more.
Right then, my smirk turns into a scowl. No. How dare he.
One leg is raised just a little, revealing pale skin above his ankle where his sock ends. His pink hair falls around the pillow and his face, creating this tender, almost reverent sight. His lips part just slightly, and something in me wants to brush my hand against his smooth skin to feel his warm breathing again. It would only take a few steps to close the distance and create the close contact I crave.
My finger twitches at the urge, but I quickly shut it out and practically slam his phone on the nightstand, gripping it harshly. What the hell is this? I’ve never wanted to touch a person’s face in their sleep before. Anyone who places their dirty hands on someone without their knowledge or consent would have a personal meeting with my fist. That’s how it’s always been…
It’s not that I would ever do it, but if I did, I’d knock my damn self out bad enough to make sure I wouldn’t wake up the next morning. And hopefully ever again. But like I said, I would never do it. It’s fucking tempting, though.
Releasing the phone, I glance at Saiki once more before going to turn off the light, whispering a disgruntled, “goodnight, Saiki.” And I’m exiting the room in a haste, dragging my fingers through my hair with a sigh.
I’m sleeping on the couch tonight. That asshole doesn’t deserve my bed, and I don’t deserve the couch. Somehow, I kind of knew it would turn out like this unpredictable and chaotic wreck of an outcome where I can’t tell if I like or hate how things turned out. Guess I’ll find out when he wakes up, but I’ll definitely be staying up and thinking about this.
I enter my kitchen and dig through the drawers to pull out an unopened pack of cigarettes. Walking past the couch to the balcony, I tear the plastic and pull out a cigarette, hardly flinching as the cool air meets my skin again.
It feels unfamiliar as I place it between my lips to pull out a lighter. Well. I actually haven’t had one of these in a while. Men usually carry a lighter on them these days just for the sake of having it.
Inevitably, mind goes back to the image of Saiki on my bed, and I quickly get that stupid fluttery feeling again. Hell. Saiki’s already stolen my attention again, and the low murmur has become a full-blown voice that screeches gratingly in the back of my head. This is exactly why he is the bane of my existence.
I bring the lighter up to the end of the cigarette. A sharp click sparks the flame.
Notes:
Bits of sexual tension in this one hahaha. I found Aren’s perspective fun to write but I’m hoping I did it well to fit him. Let me know if you enjoyed!!
Chapter 3: In My Eyeline
Notes:
this chapter got super long (5k somehow turned to 7k) but i decided to keep it as a whole anyway. I hope I did well—here’s your meal!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
SAIKI KUSUO
This is not my bed; is the second thought I have after waking up—the first being how horrid my hangover is this morning. Everyone’s grating voices serve to worsen my headache.
Wincing at the brightness, I sit upright on the bed, gripping the blanket close to my body as I scan my surroundings. The decently-sized room is decorated with movie posters and a mix of books and mangas scattered around. Across from me is a TV mounted to the wall and a nightstand drawer that sits by the side of the bed. My phone is on top of it, placed next to a smaller stack of mangas. The windows are halfway open, allowing cool air to push past the white curtains and flow into the room. It mixes with the smell of eggs and butter, but there’s a hint of something intoxicating that I’ve caught on someone I know. It’s different this time.
The scent… it’s laced with cigarettes.
So now I know—a bedroom. From the way it smells, it belongs to Kuboyasu. Do not ask why I am so quick to determine that.
I look down and blink. I rip the blanket away from my body, releasing a quiet sigh when I see all of my clothes still on. Not that I would ever let anything happen to me, but I like to be sure.
The realization that I slept like a baby creeps up on me, sending a shiver down my spine. I slept comfortably in someone else’s bed. Even worse, it’s Kuboyasu’s bed—with his scent. His space. His time spent, where he probably sits and watches movies like a nerd.
When I check my phone, I see over 30 messages from Aiura within the timespan of last night’s shitshow of a dinner. The texts all explain how she saw total chaos and destruction across the planet, but then she backtracked only a minute later saying that it was a false vision. I tilt my head at the screen because that sounds awfully familiar to something that occurred back in high school, where my limiter was removed for a few seconds and caused the near end of the world.
They’re on my head right now, so I don’t know if that happened again. Were my limiters removed? Did any doom scenario occur? More importantly, or not depending on who you ask, I am not in my room right now.
I let out a quick breath. This is bad. I’m having trouble recollecting what happened after I made an attempt to go to the restroom. The only reason I haven’t teleported home yet is because of the delicious scent I smell. It’s making me hungry, and now I’m picking up on those awfully familiar thoughts. The ones that race and race. The ones filled of me.
I’d compare it to Akechi’s noisy mind, but his thinking speed is incomparable to anyone I’ve ever met before. Plus, his thoughts aren’t simply about me and how much he agonizes seeing me, unlike Kuboyasu’s.
He was the one who took me here, which means he was around when my limiter came out last night. Did he remove it for some reason, or did it come out by accident? Should I interrogate him the moment I see him?
After a moment of internal debate, I decide to simply get up and leave the room. The world tilts for a moment before I brace myself against the wall, wincing at the ache poking at my skull.
…Hangovers. What a pain. Have I gotten weaker?
I make my way down the hallway, the world spinning and twisting with the throbbing in my head that mimics the one from last night. The scent hits my nose again, and I am met with the sight of a kitchen island, Kuboyasu cooking, and two pills on the counter next to a cup of water. Kuboyasu immediately notices me, but my eyes zero in on the plate of food on the island. I wet my lips hungrily, my stomach growling in anticipation as I approach the island.
Tamagoyaki… It’s tamagoyaki.
I stare down at the plate in amazement, watching steam shift out of the freshly cooked egg and rise into the air, mixing in with the buttery scent. It’s one of the prettiest tamagoyaki plates I’ve ever seen. An image of this could be used for a cooking recipe on some website or magazine, no doubt.
Kuboyasu notices my amazement and tries to be indifferent, but he laughs at me. I realize why and I tug on my hair to tame my ridiculous bedhead.
‘So he’s not always perfect, huh.’He scoops rice into a small bowl before he sets it down next to the plate, noticing my gaze. “I made plenty, you know. Eat up. Or don’t. I don’t care. Take the painkillers after.”
I swallow my hunger and ask, “you brought me here?”
Kuboyasu blinks at me, a slight tilt in his head before he nods. There’s an edge in his voice when he speaks. “Yeah. I kept your belongings safe, so don’t worry.” He places a pair of chopsticks in front of me, and I notice a sliver of his arm tattoo that hides beneath his band T-shirt. “I don’t want to scare you off or have my name sent to HR,” he says, leaning against the island. “So I’ll let you know right now that I didn’t do anything last night.”
‘In fact, I hate your guts so much I want you to implode.’
That’s actually very comforting to hear, Kuboyasu.
“Right. I thought so.” I reply quietly, glancing down at the food again.
He eyes me for a moment before looking off to the side. “…Sit down already.”
I don’t need you to tell me that.
Swallowing my spit doesn’t ease my hunger, so I reluctantly sit down on a stool and grab the chopsticks. I pick up one piece, eyeing it as my stomach begs for me to hurry and eat the food. Unable to hold back any longer, I take a hesitant bite. The flavor is like a burst of sunshine over my tongue. I hear Kuboyasu curse somewhere in the back of his mind, but I don’t pay attention to it as I scoop up a bit of rice to pair it with the rich flavor of the eggs. Safe to say, I am very pleased with the combination.
When I’m done swallowing, I place my chopsticks down. “Sorry. For being troublesome last night.”
“Yeah, sure. Fine.” He says and crosses his arms. “…You seem to have a thing for walls. Kept slamming into them and stuff… I could barely get you inside here without you trying to kill yourself in some way or another. You sure you’re okay in the head?”
Well, I’m not entirely sure either. My mind and body are completely destabilized right now.
I look down at the plate in front of me before putting a hand to my limiter. I raise the question hugging my mind;
“Did I damage anything?”
Then I glance up, seeing Kuboyasu stiffen. His fingers tighten around his arm, digging into the skin as he bites the inside of his cheek. There’s a bitter undertone in his voice when he thinks: Not more than you did to me.
…He doesn’t seem injured, so I’m not exactly sure what he means by that.
My gaze goes back to that tattoo on his bicep. Black ink varying between thick and thin lines twist and stretch across his bicep, barely hiding the nasty scar behind it. There appears to be something like a logo where a splash of red paints his skin—a rose engrained in the center with the occassional thorn. I’ve seen his tattoo countless times before thanks to my powers and I kind of want to know the meaning of it. I also don’t think any of our colleagues know it exists besides me.
Something indescernabile flickers inside of me, but it was so fleeting that I lost the chance to figure out what it is.
Kuboyasu turns off the stove, grumbling in his mind about how I need to stop chewing on the chopsticks. He takes a seat next to me and scoops his own portion.
“So,” he coughs, glancing around the apartment. As I chew my food, I also look around the place. “You need me to call a ride?”
“No, thanks. I didn’t bring my wallet, but I can pay you back for yesterday.”
Simple response. Straightfoward. Kuboyasu’s eyebrows twitch before he shovels food into his mouth, swallowing quickly.
‘He can walk, then.’
“I can give you a ride.”
My expression is blank as I stare at him. That sentence was definitely impulsive because I couldn’t sense that in his thoughts before.
“…I’ll call a friend.”
“Sure. That works.” Kuboyasu smiles, and I catch the way his eyes darken before they slip shut.
We don’t speak for few minutes after that. To be fair, it is a little awkward eating with a colleague you don’t exactly favor. However, the food is quite good, so I’m not going to mention it as long as he doesn’t.
The silence is loud. It leaves me to tune in on Kuboyasu’s head as I gaze out the balcony windows while I chew on my chopsticks absentmindedly. He’s brooding for some reason, which only makes my head hurt more. I’m beginning to think that he actually wants to commit murder—on me, of course. Good, because I’d rather it be me than someone else. A Sub, especially.
‘…They must be really important to him.’
It doesn’t take long for Kuboyasu to break the silence by voicing his thoughts.
“They’re special to you, huh?”
Waiting for him to elaborate, I stare at him, then realize he is talking about my limiters. They’re not exactly special to me, but they have been extremely helpful in keeping the Earth revolving for the last 12 years. I remember each time they’ve come out besides last night, and that concerns me deeply. The devastating effects of what may have happened if they had been out any longer keeps me on edge.
“…I’d say so,” I reply, taking another bite of rice.
Kuboyasu hums with a straight face. He takes a bite of food. ‘Yeah. I really want to kill him.’
I tilt my head. Should I be concerned? I know people are capable of thinking about crazy things with a calm expression, but it’s kind of scary when you’re the subject of murder. I’ve been that far too many times with Kusuke. I don’t need to be someone else’s primary target.
“Nice…”
“Mm.”
‘Damn it. If he doesn’t choke on the food I’ll… nevermind.’
Please don’t back track on your own thoughts. It gets very confusing for me.
000
After a rather delicious breakfast while dealing with the disaster that was Kuboyasu’s thoughts, I take the painkillers, thank him, and quickly leave his place. I had to get out of there as soon as possible before I ended up fleeing a homocide of which I was supposed to be the victim.
When I leave the building, I wait outside in the cold until the familiar rev of an engine catches my attention. I frown when Aiura screams my name like a maniac.
“Kusuo!” She yells with the widest grin on her face as she honks the car one time.
“Park the car before you decide to stick half of your body out the window,” I deadpan as I approach the vehicle with too many mods to count, knowing she caught the amusement in my voice.
She laughs and puts a finger to her lips. “Oh? Flirting me with me now, are you?”
I open the door and slide into the passenger seat. “Quit dreaming.”
Aiura giggles again and waits for me to shut the door before switching the gear to neutral. “What even happened last night, Kusuo? You totally did something to screw up my reading’s last night. They were thrown out of whack the moment you dropped your limiter!”
I shrug, not knowing exactly what to say. When I try to remember last night, I only recall Kuboyasu and his weird way of trying to control/tame/handle me. I’m pretty sure that’s what he was trying to do. Then again, he did help me last night and this morning. I slept well. I ate well, and now my headache is easing.
My fingers gently scratch my satisfied stomach as I remember the food I ate before this. Kuboyasu’s not a bad cook at all. I wonder if he’s the one who makes his lunches for work—the picture-perfect bento boxes that he brings every day. I’m curious if he has a girlfriend he cooks for or something.
“So, who’s the hottie? Finally meet a Dom?”
Of course Aiura would nudge. She nearly passed out yesterday when I told her I was even meeting one, and it took lots of convincing to keep her from reading my future for today. But I guess it makes sense if her visions were interrupted. My guess on what happened is that Aiura had a client when my limiters came out, so she checked in on me and that’s when she caught a glimpse of Kuboyasu.
“There’s nothing going on between me and him. He’s just a colleague who helped me out when I had too much to drink.” I wince when I realize what I just admitted.
“Overdid it on the alcohol again? Kusuo,” she asks while looking at me from the corner of her eye. “What did I tell you about drinking so much? You know your body is unpredictable.”
“Don’t act so mushy. It was the first time in a while.” I’m not alcohol reliant anyway.
“I know, but I get worried.” She pouts, then her tone shifts into something more teasing. “Nothing happened? Really? You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I sigh, glancing out the window. “There’s still that Dom I have to meet later today.”
There’s too many inconviences going on. Aside from my Sub Drop, I’m to blame for my actions last night, but even then I don’t really want to deal with anything any more. I want to go to my bed and sleep.
Aiura raises the volume of the music. Neither of us really say anything and we quickly fall into a comfortable silence after a while. The kind that friends of 6 years usually fall into—save for the fact that she’s blasting her songs right now. Though I don’t particularly mind Aiura’s music taste.
Speaking of taste, I should start thinking of what outfit I should wear for that appointment. Perhaps something casual. Nothing too flashy. I don’t want to look like a pop star. Maybe I’ll wear a jacket or a light sweater. That’s normal for an occasion like this… probably. Mind you, I’m not trying to impress anyone, but I’m not trying to ward them off either.
I slump in my seat further as I contemplate my choice of clothing for later. My thoughts begin to shift to my scheduled meeting today. I wonder if the Dom is a man or a woman. Play between people of same sex is common, and it’s also not a strange sight to see a male Sub with a female Dom. Hmm… If that were my case, I wouldn’t be able to say if I have a preference for anything since, you know, I’m not into any of it. However, I am open to experimenting, and my health isquickly deteriorating, which is why I’m doing this in the first place.
Still, I have no way of knowing who they are right now. It’d be better to at least have an idea of who they are so that I’m not going somewhere completely blind. Yeah. I’d rather be safe than sorry.
“…Hey,” I start with a breath. “When we get to your place, read my future for today.”
This time, Aiura rips her gaze away from the road to look at me. She’s silent for a moment, but her thoughts are swirling with curiosity and excitement. “…Course, Kusuo.”
Long nails scratch the back of my ears, earning a low hum from my throat. I sigh through my nose as Aiura runs her fingers through my hair, her nails gently scratching my scalp. This is a thing that we do on a regular. A sort of unspoken agreement between us since she wouldn’t take my protests seriously whenever she first started doing it. There’s not really any significance behind it, I just appreciate the satisfaction that comes with this sort of spa treatment. It’s the closest thing to play I come to, I guess.
I kind of envy her. She has powers, but she doesn’t have a second sex. Things must be a little easier without a second dynamic. Not that I want either; they both suck equally. With my psychic abilities and my dynamic, there’s just no chance for me. No chance for peace. No chance for freedom. My will was gone the moment I was conceived.
Okay, I was being a little dramatic just now. Forgive me.
Me and Aiura stay like this for a while until I begin to fall asleep. Her hands run through my hair, slowly bringing me closer to a comfortable slumber. I am about halfway there before she shifts beneath me, and I feel her looking down at me.
“Want me to read it now, Kusuo?” Aiura asks, still stroking my hair.
I open my eyes to look up at her. With a nod, I sit up with my legs crossed and she gets up to grab her crystal ball from her nightstand. It sits on a pretty red pillow with gold lacing around the edges. Her tastes are a little odd after all.
I frown at the plastic spoon she’s holding, wondering where she even pulled that from. She sits down in across me a second later and places the ball between us. It’s less bedazzled than it was in high school, but that’s only because she uses other crystal balls paired with other miscellaneous items for reading fortunes and just never picked up the loose gemstones from this one. Though I’m not sure why I’m the only one she uses this specific ball for. Perhaps she likes the nostalgia. Or perhaps reading my fortune is slightly different since I’m psychic. I don’t know.
“Okay, Kusuo.” She swipes her hands together before leaning in impossibly close to the ball. It creates a low sparkle that reflects in her green eyes. “Time to read today’s fortune. Ha!”
That would have been extremely awkward if she had done that with anyone else.
We sit in silence as she focuses her abilities onto the glass in front of her. It comes to life after only a second, and that’s when she picks up the spoon to do whatever is “needed” for her visions. Her breathing is controlled with her eyes fixated on the reflection that begins to form on the surface. I keep my hands on my ankles and lean back to stare at the ceiling.
…Play, huh? I don’t think it’s fully registered in my head that I’m going to be doing it. Me, playing. It sounds so absurd. Maybe it’ll all hit me when I actually meet the Dom. I wonder what play will be like with them. I hope they’re not too cruel. Am I going to get bullied and find pleasure from it? Or is the whole thing one-sided where the Dom gets off on testing the Sub like a servant? If that were the case, I’m sure I’d be searching that ‘pleasure’ for days. Good grief. I’m not looking forward to this at all. Anyway. Hopefully after this, there won’t be any more inconveniences for me to deal with. I can finally go back to my normal life.
Aiura’s groundbreaking scream pulls me from my thoughts. “Gyaaa!!”
I watch in shock as she grips the glass with both hands and throws it to the floor, shattering it to pieces. I truly wonder if she’s okay sometimes.
“What happened…?”
She needs to slow it down. Her mind is racing with a million thoughts that I can’t quite process yet. After a second, she seems to sort them out and I begin catching indirect glimpses of play, submission, and a ridiculously intimate atmosphere. Ridiculous enough for me to grimace, but I hold back a flinch when Aiura snaps her head towards me.
“You better meet that Dom, Kusuo. I mean it!”
My eyes narrow. Was what she saw that bad enough to cause such a reaction? I shouldn’t have signed up for play after all…
She speaks using her hands, flailing, pointing, squeezing. “The beginning was a hot mess, but the future beyond that was a hotter mess of intense play! I am so jealous!”
“Intense… play?” My words are achingly hesitant, to which she quickly realizes and backtracks her thoughts.
“Not in that way! Intense in the way that makes you incredibly fulfilled. Like… like it will all come together!” Aiura beams an open-mouthed smile. “Everything that you’ve lacked all these years is going to be presented to you like a fresh cooked platter of tamagoyaki! Take the chance, Kusuo! Do it!”
Whatever’s going to be presented to me sounds scarily familiar.
Aiura kicks the shattered crystals away with her socked foot. I spare the shards a glance before I hear her talk again. “But be careful, Kusuo… Don’t get overwhelmed by all of it and make sure to set your boundaries.”
I’m not weak.
The thought lingers on the edge of my mind, threatening to slip. I try not to think about the instances where a Sub is weakened and murdered after experiencing a Dom’s venomous gaze first-hand—an occurrence so normalized that Subs live in fear while police hardly glance twice when it happens again.
I hold my tongue and sigh a little, not knowing if it’s relief or anxiety that I’m currently feeling. I think it’s a little of both. If it’s going to go well, then I suppose it will be alright. Yet I still get this feeling inside of me. The one that makes me feel weak. It’s similar to the one I get right before Sub Drop, but it’s slightly different. Less guttural and heavy but more foreboding in the sense that leaves me paranoid, high on alert, and on the verge of giving into the ‘flight’ of my fight or flight instincts. It lingers somewhere on me, but not inside. After all;
The world is a corrupt, scary place. I’m just a Sub living in it.
000
To remind you again—teleporting may be a breeze, but not while you’re queasy. I’m really feeling the effects of it this time…
My stomach twists as I poke my head out from behind a building that stands in front of the hotel. This Dom is probably in there right now, and I realized a little too late that I actually still don’t have a clue for who they are. I’m walking in here with only the smallest comfort of how “fulfilling” this will be.
The hotel I approach is extravagant amongst other plain buildings. It’s magnificent in ways I find difficult to explain, but I’ll attempt anyway. The beige walls are lined with gold accents, and gold fences guard each tree that lines up the wide pathway leading towards the entrance. Stairs lead to large glass doors that grant a view of the inside. Somehow, it looks even prettier in there. The whole thing looks like a celebrity party venue meant to catch the public eye. The sheer size of the building should scare me off, but Aiura’s words replay in my head. Her voice grounds me the slightest bit.
‘You better meet that Dom, Kusuo. I mean it.’
A shiver runs down my body. And I know she’s not joking because Aiura never jokes when she’s honest-to-God describing a possible catastrophe. All of those little gadgets and stunts she pulls is just for show, but none of it actually matters when she’s creating a vision.
Realizing I’ve been standing here like an idiot for a while, I bawl my hands into fists and begin walking. Slowly. To the place I’m doing play. Where I will inevitably surrender my control to a Dom.
I still can’t wrap my head around it. How can I ever give up control when it’s all I need to keep this world from destruction? How am I supposed to just let a Dom take it from me if they’re only going to hurt me? No, rather than hurt, maybe just… act brash. Or neither. Before I left, Aiura told me there’s no chains or whips or anything that could be used from what I saw back then. It’s totally safe is what she said.
My breathing picks up, but I continue walking while blinking away my blurry vision. A female employee dressed in a sharp uniform opens the door for me with a kind greeting. I nod politely and walk past her, feeling unsettled as my gaze drifts up towards the thousands of crystals hanging from the glass chandelier.
I’m regretting my choice of casual clothing now. A cardigan and jeans, to be precise. I wouldn’t know what else to wear, and I didn’t feel like getting Aiura’s input for this part because that would be an even bigger mess that would likely result in me arriving late, so I ended up taking it in my own hands. I’m only slightly disappointed in myself.
The employee leads me to the check-in counter where a man handles the back and forth conversation of asking for my name, the time of the appointment, and giving me my room number along with the entry card. I quickly thank him, grab the keycard, and make my way to the elevator. I’m nervous. Sweaty. Shaky. Each step feels pronounced, like a mocking taunt that reminds me of what I’m waltzing into. And I’m doing it despite knowing what’s going to happen.
I enter the elevator, tightly gripping the card in my hand until the doors open on the assigned level. There’s really no going back now… After this, I will have played for the first time. My first time! In my entire life. There’s something about it that makes me both weirdly intrigued and freaked out. I’m probably making this sound like I’m losing my virginity, but it’s just that this sort of thing is revolutionary for a Sub like me. I can’t be the only one.
My pace is slow the entire time I approach the room. When I finally reach the door, I stand there for a good amount of time before I actually press the keycard against the access panel. The lock automatically clicks and I hesitate to place my hand against the door.
I find myself caught in a battle between my wants and needs. This is my last chance to step away. It’s not too late to go back. But I can’t. I have to ignore what I want and do this. For me. If I want to get better, this is exactly how. Maybe I’ll even end up liking it and will want to do it again. Maybe… maybe I will. Maybe I…
A foreign wave of excitement hits me, so I take a breath and finally push the door open, lifting my gaze. From the way my heart just fell through my stomach, I think I will actually pass out.
Kuboyasu is here, sitting on a king sized bed with one leg crossed over the other. After a second, his eyes widen as he recognizes me.
“Saiki?!” He furrows his brows, lips twisting into a repressed scowl. I hate how attractive it is. Especially when he speaks in that heavy, barely restrained voice. “…No way. I’m stuck with you?”
A little thing inside of me snapped, flowing like a loose thread hanging after being cut. It quickly fades away into this emptiness, and all hopes of ever being able to do play simply… vanish.
My brain returns to me a moment later, and no, I did not just call him attractive. It was a typo. Anyway—it takes everything in me to not slam the door, leave the building, and return to work on Monday as if nothing ever happened. However, I don’t think I am capable of moving by my will. His sheer prescence alone has me standing here like a statue, and I’m catching up on the fact that I didn’t detect his voice at any point before this.
Good grief. I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I missed his. As annoying as it sounds, that’s the only possible reason. Either way, I’m ashamed I didn’t notice him sooner.
I realize I haven’t responded, so I shove down the bile that inches up my throat and say, “I don’t know what that means.”
Kuboyasu shifts a little, raising a brow. “We’re matched for this program even though we hate each other. It doesn’t make sense how we were paired together.”
Right. I’m not surprised by the second part, but I am so astoundedly baffled that I can only nod in response. I hate him? He’s right, I do. But I didn’t choose this. Him, I mean. Though I can agree; this makes absolutely zero sense. Me and Kuboyasu don’t have anything in common aside from having a second sex and a mutual hatred for each other. That’s about as much I can think of right now. Could our taste in partners line up?
“And the fact you have a partner,” Kuboyasu suddenly mutters. His tone was so utterly convinced that I almost questioned myself, because what the hell?
This time, I tilt my head since I don’t know what he is talking about. When he doesn’t add on to his statement, I close my eyes to breathe. In. Out. Find your brain and keep it on a leash. Your heart too.
“…I don’t have a partner.” I finally say, and it feels like I’m revealing something shocking as he basically scrutinizes me.
“Huh? You don’t gotta lie, you know. I’ve known for a while.” Now he looks angry—his mind a hazy mess of how much he despises cheaters. I can assure you I am not. I wouldn’t be here if I did have one.
“What makes you think I have a partner?”
Kuboyasu frowns and whispers under his breath, “playing dumb isn’t a cute look on you.” He points towards his head, raising his voice for me to hear clearly. “Those things you’re wearing? That’s a collar, right?”
Wait, hold on for a few seconds…
Okay, now I’m seriously reconsidering this whole thing. I wasn’t going to in the first place, but… he can’t be for real, right? How could anyone think of my limiters as a collar? Sure, there are necklaces, rings, and actual collars, but these are quite literally perceived as a sort of hair accessory to anyone on the planet. It doesn’t matter how abnormal you are. Even the most abnormal of anyone I’ve ever met—Nendou—has never commented on them more than a‘What are those weird things on your head, buddy?! Hehe. Eh…’ Good grief.
I inhale again and shake my head. “It’s not a collar, it’s…” I trail off and catch his eyes flickering with something akin to… hope? Resentment? “A fashion statement…”
Tch, lame. I know I could have come up with a more believable reason, but this will do for now. Actually, I’m quite grateful because the sheer ridiculousness of his conclusion provides a distraction from my inner turmoil.
There’s a long pause. A breath. A hand through his hair. Then, he cautiously asks, “…that was it? It’s really not a collar?”
No, Kuboyasu. They’re not.
“You’re not in a relationship.” He reiterates dumbly.
No. Again, I’m not.
There isn’t much to be relieved about, but he sighs lightly when I shake my head again. I see the anger leaving his body, though I’m not sure what he’s left with. I just hope it isn’t his instinctual urge to murder.
He’s looking everywhere before he speaks again. “So. So… that means you’ll play?”
“No,” I quickly shut him down. “Not with you. You’re a co-worker… that’s not-”
“A lot of our co-workers are in relationships.”
‘Only two are Dom and Sub, but it’s close enough. This is my chance.’
His thoughts leak into my head and I am almost caught off guard. Swallowing, I cross my arms, trying to find my words. “You want to play with me? Why? You can barely stand being in the same room as me.”
Again, Kuboyasu surprises me when he smirks; wolfish, devilish, and showing a little teeth as he eyes me carefully with that gaze. “Yeah…” His voice is throaty and low—God. “I’ve been waiting for the chance to put you in your place.”
Silence.
…He means that, huh?
My arms drop to my sides. My heart beats so fast I fail to keep up. I tense so much it leaves me stiffer than before. I race for a solution only to come up with nothing.
This is not good. If I could formulate a response right now, I would.
…I can’t. I really can’t. I feel like I’m going to cave. The door is right behind me, but I can’t leave when the only thing my instincts can focus on is submitting to the Dom before me. Kuboyasu is…
“Saiki?”
Black crowds my blurry vision until he’s all I can see. He’s going to control me.
“Hey… I didn’t mean it…”
I bite the inside of my cheek—hard. He’s going to control me!
“You have to relax…”
I’m going to lose myself and he’s going to—
“Relax!”
The command rips through every inch of my body. Everything falls apart.
No.
What?
Everything… clears. Like a vast field. It isn’t stormy or full of flowers, just a large grassy valley where land stretches for miles under the sun. I don’t notice when my mouth opens, or when my face heats up, or when Kuboyasu curses under his breath because he used a command on me. All I notice is this white space in my head. It’s clear. Pretty. Calm. Everything I wasn’t moments before.
The tension drains from my body, and I can actually count the beats my heart is going at per second. Kuboyasu is standing a few feet away from me now. He is most definitely looking away and he’s even saying something to me. But…
There’s this fluttery feeling pulsing through my body. It’s raw and unrestrained. Aching and warm, begging to touch the deeper parts of me that are woven under wraps. A touch so careful that ignited everything, bringing it to life. I don’t feel weak anymore. Rather, I feel unexpectedly…
Happy.
I blink. Once. Twice. Then I meet his gaze again, and he stops speaking the second I do. Suddenly, I feel like my legs will give out because he’s glaring.
His hands rub his face repeatedly while his eyes dart across the floor, purposefully avoiding me. He’s not glaring at me. Kuboyasu is angry at himself. My legs aren’t buckling because of his gaze or my lightheadedness, it’s—
…His command. I’m like this because of his command.
The room falls into another silence. We shift, breathe, and tense when the other moves, but we don’t utter a word to each other for what feels like hours. I almost feel how Kuboyasu’s guilt gnaws on him as he reflects on what he did. It claws at him bad enough that he debates breaking the awkward quietness, but he waits a little longer to see if I will say anything.
I don’t, obviously. I’m quite conflicted because of the feeling that command gave me. It must have been a fluke. A coincidence, if you will. But I need to break this down. What did I say I felt? Happy? Sure. Happiness is easy to distinguish, but to think Kuboyasu made me feel that way. It sounds wrong. But it doesn’t, which doesn’t help my case.
Good grief, I’m so lost right now. Angry that he commanded me. Confused because I liked it. That feeling was disturbing in a way that felt… right. Maybe it’s disturbing because it feels right. To be honest, I don’t even think I mind fully—the command.
I mean, of course I mind. I hate him as it stands, but him commanding me like that is more than enough reason for me to despise him and avoid him for the rest of my life. I’m a Sub being commanded by a conniving Dom who is also my colleague at work. Who does he think he is?
Kuboyasu doubles down—finally. “How… How are you feeling…?”
“Fine.” I reply curtly, not bothering to hide my irritation.
He coughs, still avoiding my gaze. “Good. Um… I’m sorry about that. For commanding you and all. I promise it slipped and… I should’ve controlled myself better.”
He doesn’t say anything after that, and I figure that he just won’t anymore. It’s fine with me until anger slowly blurs into curiosity.
…Why do I kind of want to feel it again? Definitely not from Kuboyasu. Though I don’t have much choice in this situation and he was kind of the reason why I felt it in the first place. Even though it was sudden, it was quite enjoyable.
Hm… We’re already here as a match apparently due to tastes in our ideal partner. He’s already commanded me once and I liked it. I think I could use this. But how should I go about it? Should I just ask him to play? That means taking the initiative. I’m guessing this is the part where I step in. I’ll just wing it. Okay, here goes.
Heaving a sigh, I find the courage and will myself to speak. “…When do we start?”
Kuboyasu raises his brows, a little startled. “Uh, what?”
“Play. When do we begin?” I ask, trying my best to appear unbothered.
“Er… Well, we haven’t even discussed a safeword or any boundaries.” He reasons. “You’re okay with just starting? Aren’t you upset with me?”
Hm. Not really, no. I’m not upset due to the feeling I got. If anything, I’m curious. Curious enough for me to explore this on a deeper level.
“I’m not mad, so it’s fine. I’m ready to play.”
“Oh.” He pauses.
‘…I knew Saiki was weird before, but this is a different level of weird. Play is generally discussed by partners before they even try anything. Is Saiki just careless? How many people does he play with usually? Or is he just open to everything?’
I turn my head away, opting to stay quiet. He can’t expect me to know how this works since I’ve never done play before. Though I guess he doesn’t know that. But I know play itself should be agreed upon from both parties, no matter how scary it may appear or how many times it ends up one-sided. Whatever. We should hurry up and get this over with. I’m not afraid anymore. Of play. Of Doms. Of him—
A soft voice stops my thinking. I never expected it to belong to Kuboyasu.
“We don’t have to do this, you know.” He says gently.
What? Of course we do. Not because I want to, but because I… need to. Yeah. This is for…
I clench my fists and shake my head in disapproval, hoping my cheeks don’t look as warm as they feel. My gaze meets his, and the determined look in my eyes successfully conveys what I’m thinking.
He takes a few steps, standing directly in front of me. An arm’s reach away. “…You mean you want to?”
Like I previously thought before—I don’t want to, I need to. I’m not in any position to say no. This is for my wellbeing so that everything can go back to how it was. In the end, we both benefit.
“…You sure?” Kuboyasu seems surprised. He rubs his neck, tugging at the locks of hair that go down his neck. “Look. I need this as much as you do, but for lack of better words, it’s kinda your choice to stick with me or not.”
Great. Now he’s putting the decision on me. This requires both of us to agree. Pretty sure he wants to as well, so why ask so many questions anyway? Well, at least I have a say, but I thought I made my decision clear already.
I release another breath and step forward, offering my hand as I say sternly, “I want you to play with me, Kuboyasu.”
Kuboyasu looks completely taken aback. He glances down at my hand, his eyes widening before he suddenly laughs. It’s short, quick, and light until he catches me glaring at him.
He’d better have a good explanation. No part about this situation is laughable.
“…You make it sound like a challenge, but in reality you’re shaking.” He teases, his voice surprisingly tender as he flashes me a white smile. Before I can react, he smacks my hand, gripping it firmly to shake our hands together. And he’s right—my hand is trembling.
My eyes follow the movement of our locked hands until it stops. Kuboyasu doesn’t immediately release his hold, which would perturb me if he didn’t open his mouth to speak. “Okay, Saiki.” His grin widens, creating lovely creases in his eyes. “I accept. Let’s play.”
Huh. Lovely is quite the word for someone I hate. Then again, I have to push aside any feelings if I want to go through with play.
Notes:
Comment if you enjoyed <33
Chapter 4: Sick and Twisted
Notes:
Ignore how late i am. We finally get into the play aspect hehehe
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
SAIKI KUSUO
So, now I’m actually doing play with Kuboyasu.
Well, not at the moment exactly since he’s very adamant about discussing boundaries and limits—which is fine. It gives me a chance to dissect his thoughts and see just what he is planning on doing to me. Nothing terrible so far. In fact, he seems more worried about crossing any limits and scaring me away. A Dom worrying about harming a Sub? That kind of thinking is strange coming from one.
It makes me wonder.
I lean back against the door, my arms folded as Kuboyasu sits back down on the bed. He looks at me carefully, and for once, it’s not bitter or condescending. That’s better, at least.
Sighing, I keep my gaze onto him as he calmly yet erratically thinks of a way to handle this conversation. There’s a lot to talk about, I suppose. It takes a good minute of silence for Kuboyasu to speak.
“Let’s start by deciding the basic rule.” He takes a breath, then asks, “what safeword would you like to use, Saiki? Something that resonates with us, preferably.”
Oh. That.
…A safeword, huh? Okay. Guess I really am doing this. It’s worse that it’s with Kuboyasu, but I don’t feel like going through the entire process to find another match. Unfortunately, the matter is not knowing when Sub Drop will kick in again. He’s my only option at the moment. I must take anything I can get.
Now, I need to think of a word. A word… A safeword… Will it actually work though? Does the Dom just… stop whatever they’re doing? Is it instinct? Do they listen or ignore it? What a pain. It’s a bad time to realize just how little I know about play. I wish this wasn’t so complicated.
Thankfully, he waits for me as I ponder for a good minute or so. A safeword with Kuboyasu should be fairly easy to decide. Something simple since we will never be doing this again. Simple and forgettable. Something that resonates. Annoying? Despicable? Hm. Brazen. I’m not, but he is.
This is harder than I thought. It has to resonate but there’s nothing in common between us. We both hate and actively avoid each other at work as if there were something unsafe about the other.
As if a light bulb enters my head, I quickly straighten up and answer, “danger.”
Kuboyasu briefly pauses to think, putting a hand to his chin before he glances at me. “Okay, but why that one?”
I shrug, dropping my gaze to the floor. “First word that came to mind.”
A lie. But he does not need to know that.
“Oh, alright. Danger it is, then.” Kuboyasu smiles softly as if he weren’t the reason I had chose that word. “Now, onto limits with… let’s say things we won’t do. I’ll go first. I don’t like leaving a Sub alone after play. Your turn.”
He seems to know a lot about this. That’s better for me then. It means I can be at least a little more honest about myself.
“Don’t hit me, please.” I say with 100% seriousness, and I frown when Kuboyasu smirks lazily.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I don’t stop there. “No harsh or humiliating words.”
His smirk falters. “…Right? Cool.”
“I don’t appreciate torture, so don’t do that either.”
“Uh, okay…”
More images flood into my mind and the possibilities keep coming.
“Or rope-tying. Gagging. Restraining in general-”
“Saiki…“ He looks at me with a baffled expression. I can’t exactly read the look behind his eyes, but the storm feels non-existent now. “You know not all forms of play revolve around the hardcore stuff, right? Not that I would cross those, but you’re making it seem like that’s the only form of play you know.”
I turn my head away and pull my bottom lip between my teeth, but that’s about as much discomfort I allow myself to show. Of course it’s the only play I know. It’s practically all I see. You’d be surprised by how many people are into hardcore BDSM, be it they’re Dom/Sub or a normal.
“Just nothing of the sort.” I lightly pick at the fabric of my jeans before sighing. “Please,” I add after a beat, hating how vulnerable I sound. Feel.
“Yeah. No worries, I’ll keep that in mind.”
My fingers release my jeans and I swipe my tongue across my lips. I’m actually feeling a lot better now that I know he won’t perform any of those acts on me—or at least he will try not to. I still don’t know the true meaning of a safeword. Like if it’s simply an agreement meant to comfort or if it’s something actually tied to our dynamics. I really should have paid more attention to sex ed back in high school.
“Is there anything else you want to go over? Or do you think you’re ready?” His voice is soothing, a harsh contrast to the grating one I’m used to.
After I nod, he grins a little too eagerly for my liking. The space between us feels smaller. I feel smaller, and my pulse races at the idea of what he can do to me in this private space.
“Guess we’ll start simple then. You can use the safeword if I do something that makes you even slightly uncomfortable.” Kuboyasu reassures as leans back on the bed and cocks his head at me.
I forget to breathe.
Horror, terror, fear—it all comes rushing back to me again. My heart pounds against my chest, taking my breath away with each beat. That weakness settles in the lowest pit of me, building up until I struggle to pinpoint where it ends. I want it gone.
…It’s just play. There are no whips or chains or—
“Come here.”
Immediately from that single command alone, my body is flooded by a buzzing feeling—alive and thriving, blooming from my chest, running through my blood.
…What is this? Why do I feel so…
Like an aimless ghost adrift, I take a few steps, closing the distance between me and Kuboyasu. I force a neutral expression when I look down at him, and his eyes narrow in satisfaction as he meets my gaze.
I obeyed. Subconsciously. I obeyed him subconciously. I don’t understand why I am so affected. I thought that command earlier was a fluke… but we’re playing now and I feel it way more.
He’s already smiling when he says, “good boy.”
Another thrill is sent through me in a wave of warmth. It’s sudden but satisfying. I look away, trying not to squirm from embarrassment, but I resist a shudder when I hear his amused chuckle.
“Saiki. Look at me.”
Hesitating, I reluctantly raise my head and meet his gaze. And I’m not afraid. Everything feels different when you’re not actually afraid. It’s less heavy and more… pleasurable.
I narrowly avoid flinching when his hand comes up to my cheek, stroking my skin with a gentle touch. This is disgusting. I’m sure he’s enjoying the sight of me being uncomfortable. I’m glaring at him. I think.
I tense under his gaze, wondering if he’ll break the rule and hit me. Before, it seemed likely. His thumb glides across my skin. Now… there’s no storm. No hatred. Nothing in his eyes but a burning excitement. A fiery, clashing intensity of need and desire.
So, he won’t hit me after all. It’s why he’s treating me so gently.
I should hate being treated like something delicate. I’m nowhere near delicate, so his treatment should piss me off. But… suddenly, this feels way too intimate. I can hear the fast beating of my poor racing heart. I hear his breaths—calm and slow. My own, too—mixing with the sound of his in this quiet room. I want more.
Good grief. After all this time, it’s only taken three commands and two words of praise to make me rethink everything I had avoided all this time? This feeling is bad.
Before this, I could never even imaging participating in play. How come now that I’m experiencing it, I never want to stop? I was actually lying to myself when I said that maybe I’d enjoy it, but for real? Is this really true? Do I really want to be commanded by a Dom?
Yes.
Kill me.
“Stay still. Good… You’re doing great.” Kuboyasu praises, no longer grinning but instead holding back a smirk. Something in me tells me that’s not the only thing he’s holding back. “Do you think you can handle more?”
I feel that he is enjoying this way too much, so—no. Absolutely not. Let’s end things here. I can say the safeword. I just need to… you know. Say it. I just need to…
For some unknown reason, perhaps the way his gaze is seeing right through me or the way he speaks so calm and rough, I swallow and nod—why?!
My throat tightens; because a part of me is enjoying this just as much.
No… way. I can’t believe this. I need it. More. The feeling. The thrill. It’s too much. Intoxicating. I want more. I think it’s showing because Kuboyasu’s eyes darken in a way that makes my heart skip a beat.
“Alright,” he practically whispers. “How about something a little more…“
The ghost of his touch lingers when he releases my face to reach behind him, where he grabs a pillow and drops it in front of his feet. I tilt my head, wondering what he wanted me to do until he raised one finger—swiftly pointing down to the floor.
I will never forget the wave of euphoria that spread through my body when he spoke lowly; “Kneel.”
It were as if time slowed to a close stop. The storm in his eyes dissipated, allowing that consuming darkness to fill his eyes. The movement wasn’t mine when I dropped to my knees in front of him. My lips part slightly as I readily look up at Kuboyasu, though I am unsure of what it is I am expecting. All I can focus on is the warmth. In my chest, my face. In me. This is not ideal. Unrealistic, but the voice in my head coos:
Amazing… Play is so nice…
And I let his hands find their way into my hair, his long fingers gliding through strands in a delicate pattern that almost makes me melt. He leans over me a bit and smiles, a genuine one, while cupping my cheeks with both hands.
“There you go. Good boy, Saiki.”
Oh.
I am… absolutely done for. The feeling I get from this rivals that of when I eat coffee jelly or any other dessert… and that is almost 99% incomparable from anything ever. Except for this…
Play.
Good grief. What should I do?
My face warms, my lips press together, and my heart beats in an uncoordinated, wild rhythm as he twirls his fingers around my hair. I need to figure something out. After today, I must avoid any form of play at all costs.
“You’re enjoying this, huh? I’m happy too. You’re being so obedient, Saiki…” Kuboyasu speaks fondly; his thoughts matching every word equally.
Pleasure spreads throughout my chest like a fire as he continues running his fingers through my hair. I made him happy.
Because I listened.
It’s weird. Play terrifies me, yet… when Kuboyasu says these simple words, I get this fuzzy feeling inside of my stomach and chest. It makes me want to follow the next order.
…I can’t bring myself to deny it anymore. I want to do more for him. I want to be praised.
I want to submit.
Shit…
I weakly bawl my hands into fists, shivering as I try to conjure any sort of thought that isn’t a biting need to ask for more from… him. My head is in the clouds. All I find in the hazy fog is pure bliss. That clear field is completely overwhelmed by the sun’s heat. I need to resist this.
I find it as something that makes me a little closer to being human, but I still despise intrusive thoughts. My own are… incredibly difficult to shut down even as an adult. A lack of control. That’s all it is. Nothing changes because Kuboyasu manages to make me feel this way. I’m sure any Dom would have the same effect if they were kind enough. I need to prove to Kuboyasu that he is not the only one who can turn me into this state.
My chest tightens. I am unsure of why, and even more when voice comes out annoyingly distant.
“I still hate you…”
His hands stop stroking my hair. In an instant, I find myself missing the action. “Huh?”
I glare up at him for acting clueless, though I’m still a little dazed. Kuboyasu’s expression is relaxed. His sharp features appear softer than what I’m used to. I speak anyway.
“Hate… you…”
His lips curl into a smug smile, but it isn’t mocking. It’s a look of endearment. I would dwell in my sudden interest of it, but he’s speaking to me.
“You’re at my feet, Saiki. I think you tolerate me at least a little.”
My heart betrays me again, jumping at his words. I want to shake my head, but he’s right about it. I am tolerating this—and him, fully. Completely. He’s having a joyride too. That’s a good thing though.
I’m glad he’s not abusing me.
Without my direct knowledge, I grow softer, more obedient. Kuboyasu commands me a few more times—asking me to hold eye contact, lean in, remove my cardigan, place it on the bed—and each one brought me closer to that sense of fulfillment pooling in my stomach. I had been craving it for so long. It’s in my grasp now, right here with me. I never want to let go of it.
Kuboyasu tells me to wait. I start to think that those were the extent of his commands, and I didn’t mind at all until he lowered his tone and said;
“Now, can you sit on my lap?”
With how hot my body is, I could be running a fever at this point. Still. I find myself rising to my feet and climbing on him, my hands on his shoulders as I straddle his waist before settling down. Hair falls over my eyes, but I’m not looking at anything directly. Distant. Dazed. Any resistance I previously had has melted away into utter bliss. The kind that cascades over and inside you.
His hand slides behind my neck, fingers brushing over the nape of my neck. The first thing my mind does is debate whether he wants to pull me in or push me to the ground. I want neither, but his hands resume those soft strokes while his eyes roam over me.
‘Hell… I’m getting greedy.’
I am too.
The thought flickers in the back of my mind, opening way for a split second of my rationality to kick in. I glance up enough to see the way Kuboyasu’s pulse quickens. The way his breath hitches, how his eyes widen just a fraction. The red growing on his cheeks. With access to his thoughts, I realize exactly what it is. It’s not that. No. But I can’t tell if the other thing is worse or better. I cough and stand up before he can place his hands on my hips.
“That’s enough…” I sounded way too reluctant just now.
“Oh… okay.” He breathes slowly, registering my words in a delayed manner. I realize we both sound hesitant. “Too much?”
“Yes… No. I’m not sure.”
We go quiet, unsure of what to say. But in the silence, all I can focus on is the butterflies dancing around my stomach. Fluttering. Prancing. I thought this feeling would be gone by now, but it’s still here in my body. At this rate, I can see myself returning to my normal life.
“Can I give you my number?”
Huh?
I blink and look at him. “Why?”
Kuboyasu shifts, glancing around before he says, “well, play with you was… pretty fun and you already look uh, better from doing it. I thought that maybe we could do it again sometime.”
Hell. No. Why would we do it again when the effects stay for this long? Isn’t this form of play a one time thing? And what does he mean by I look better already?
Instead of dancing around words, I break the prolonged eye contact to grab my cardigan from his side. I avoid his stare and fix it in my grip.
“Hey, you’re not going to—”
“No.” I cut in firmly. “I said it before—not with you.”
Kuboyasu clamps his mouth shut, squeezes his fists, then chuckles lightly. “Thanks for reminding me why I hate you so damn much.”
‘…Is he playing hard to get? Shit, that’s hot.’
Don’t get things mixed up. I am not playing hard to get. I’m just being realistic. There is no reason for me to ever play with him again, even despite how much I… enjoyed it. Only a little.
I shrug my cardigan over my shoulders. Then I double-check that my phone is in the back pocket of my jeans before turning on my heel.
“I’m leaving now. Bye.”
“Saiki.” Kuboyasu calls the second I step.
And I pause to look at him.
He scratches his neck and speaks gruffly. “…Remember your safeword, okay?”
My lips part a little from surprise, but I quickly fix my expression by pressing them together again. His mind tells me it was supposed to sound like a challenge, but it came out as a gentle reminder instead.
…Idiot. What, is he implying there will actually be a next time? There won’t be. I’ll establish that right now. Clearly, too. I’ll leave no room for arguement.
“I will.”
Maybe I’m the idiot. Good grief.
KUBOYASU AREN
I haven’t done play in weeks. And I’m pissed, tired, and in need of my fourth cigarette of the day.
Instead, I sip on fresh coffee. Except I barely register how it burns my tongue as I tap my fingers on my desk. Rage has my heart in a vice grip right now, and its crowding my head to the point I can barely focus. Even worse:
Saiki is also living there rent-free. Fuck.
Doms feel withdrawals too, and I hardly ever play with anyone that’s not my actual partner. It feels wrong, so I generally avoid doing play with different people unless it’s absolutely necessary. That time with Saiki just so happened to be one of those, and I somehow I got so unbelievably lucky that I ended up with him. But it turned into a reminder of why I hate doing it with someone who isn’t my partner. They feel like one-night stands to me, and Saiki had left in a hurry that day.
He’s not helping my situation. Play is supposed to be consistent and stuff—y’know, same partner and all, similar routine that helps regulate your body? Yeah, that stuff. Saiki doesn’t even have a partner. Why is he so stubborn about play if it’s one of the best thing people can do on mutual terms? I mean yeah, he sort of maybe rejected me, but he deeply enjoyed our play and I did everything I could to not fuck up what could be the start of a D/S relationship.
So, that’s how it’s been going. We haven’t played with each other since that first time and it’s been nearly three damn weeks. Haven’t spoken or barely interacted at all, even. Hell, he’s been hanging around Nendou and Shun more as if he’s blatantly avoiding me.
He literally is, and that’s primarily why I’m upset. My crush is avoiding me and I feel like a teenager all over again. It’s bad enough that I get nervous around him like one. Fucking bastard—
The heat of the coffee finally catches up to my brain. I jerk away from the cup with a low hiss, covering my mouth.
…That burns!
“Everything alright, Kuboyasu?” A co-worker asks me—Name’s Yumehara, I think. She’s a Sub, not that it matters.
I give her a nod, still covering my mouth. “Coffee’s too hot,” I laugh, flashing a small smile through the stinging pain in my tongue.
She smiles gently in response and turns back to her work. I head out for the break room without any real reason. It’s not like Saiki is going to be in there making his cup of coffee or anything. But do you need a reason for everything? In my case, yes. I need to know why he’s actively avoiding me. I don’t remember overstepping any boundaries when we played. Last time he looked so into it I thought he’d practically beg for more. He was adorable when his faced was all flushed and glowy. Now he’s pale and sickly and it looks like he hates me more than ever. This shit doesn’t make sense. Maybe he needs time to process it. That’s probably why.
I slam my hand on the door of the break room, ignoring the startled squeak I hear from inside. It creaks open, but I don’t push it just yet. I need to think! Gather my thoughts! Fucking hell…
My jaw tightens as memories from that night begin to flash in my mind. It’s been three weeks since then. I think that’s plenty of time to process one goddamn play session. I have to know if I did something for him to not need me. He needs me, right?
Fuck that. Show him what happens when someone fucks with your mind…
…If this devil doesn’t shut up, I am going to rip him from inside of me and torture him till he’s shrieking and on the marked edge of death. But then that’d be suicide, so I’ll just shove it in the back of my head for now.
I genuinely don’t know what it is, either. I was always afraid of searching it up because I didn’t want it to be something tied to my dynamic as a Dom. Researching sounds progressively less daunting now that Saiki’s in my life. I’d hate for the little bastard to come out during play or something.
Anyways, Saiki… I know he’s single. I know he’s not playing with anyone consistently. And even though he’s keeping up with work and never misses a day, everyone can tell he’s barely scraping by and surviving. How anyone doesn’t question the ties of his bad health is beyond me.
Saiki doesn’t want me, so it’s none of my business. I know that if I keep him in my mind I’ll only get more upset and will probably end up pressing him. That’s the last thing he needs right now. The last thing I need. I can’t predict how that would turn out.
After deciding my thoughts are ‘gathered,’ I push the door open with absolutely no expectations. Regardless, my heart still aches with disappointment when I realize Saiki’s not there. The irrational side of me makes me grind my teeth to counter the silly pain I feel, but I let it go when Shun pops his head out from the other side of the room with a concerned look. Probably the sound I made from punching the door.
Hey, at least he’s a distraction. Kind of.
SAIKI KUSUO
Thankfully, I have successfully avoided using the safeword since I haven’t done any play with Kuboyasu. That’s nice, right? Right.
Well. On the other end, I’ve been getting worse. How wonderful.
“You’re doing it again, huh? Relying on meds instead of seeking that Dom?”
Akechi’s words sound familiar to a certain genius, and I hate the two clashing together.
Naturally, I don’t respond—because yes. I am relying on the enhanced medications that I got by threatening Kusuke’s revered lab. So far I haven’t experienced any significant drop, so I guess that they work for the most part. Unfortunately, it’s not enough since everyone is beginning to notice my not-so-great health again. The worst part is; my health is worse than any time before I played with Kuboyasu, and it’s wild to me because I’ve gone 22 years without ever playing before. This must be the consequences of allowing desperation to take over my cognitive thinking. Good grief.
Akechi looks at me with a slight frown. I avert my gaze, opting to observe the clean office as I mentally prepare myself for his lecture.
“You aren’t made to release your desires only once. Your desires should be fulfilled regularly with a Dom, otherwise, forget ever returning to your normal life. You’ll only deteriorate from here on. You know this, Kusuo. I strongly advise you to seek out that Dom again. Oh. I’ve already said that. Apologies. But I made my point very clear. I’ve never seen you worse.”
His words grate my nerves even more, and it’s not even the long-running speech he’s giving. It’s the facts he’s spitting right into my face. The facts that I already know of but don’t want to directly acknowledge.
Akechi is a psychiatrist who specializes in people like me—Subs. I don’t schedule visits at his clinic or anything, he just likes to give me advice on my dynamic and anything else in life whenever I stop to visit, which I do quite often only because he’s slightly bearable. He gives decent advice. As a friend, not a psychiatrist, and I appreciate that since I would hate dealing with the overbearing pity treatment Sub patients receive.
I think I admire him, really. But I’ll never admit that to him.
My eyes dart towards the clock. 11:49 AM. I should leave now.
“I’m going back to work now.” I stand up from my chair, dusting off my clean pants.
Akechi smiles and waves. “Okay, Kusuo. I’ll see you next time. I know you’ll probably ignore it as you normally do but please take my words into further consideration. Need I remind you, it’s imperative for your health, psychic or not.”
…As I normally do. I’m not sure why that kind of stings.
I nod tiredly since I don’t bother arguing with him anymore, then I teleport into a random stall at my workplace. Arguing against facts is a waste of time. Denying something until it disappears or shows up right in your face is another waste of time, but it’s the only way I can continue living this mediocre life.
But Akechi tells me I’m not living. He tells me I’m surviving. It struck me deeper than I’d like, but I didn’t take it to heart at the time. I do now, anyway.
Is it weird to say that I like surviving? Or maybe I like the challenges that come with not following my body’s needs. Sometimes I just like to feel.
The most I’ve ever felt was during play with Kuboyasu. The seething part of me despises that, but avoiding the thing I crave is only deepening the void inside me. The emptiness is worse than ever, and feelings are generally temporary. This though, is more discernible and less of a thing I can simply ignore. I don’t think meds can stop this either.
I acknowledge this. All the facts that everyone’s been telling me for years. The things I’ve tuned out and forced out of my mind. I acknowledge all of it. But I can’t accept this side of me yet.
I just can’t.
My hand digs for the packet of suppressants in my pocket. I take it out as I leave the restroom stall, removing the two pills as I approach the sink. You might be wondering why I’m teleporting so often. It’s rather convenient for visiting people during times of crisis. Missing work would be a nuisance for me as well. I don’t appreciate older men scolding me for tiny mishaps.
There’s a grim expression on my face as I pop the pills into my mouth, and it’s not from the taste I endure. It’s not from the person entering the bathroom either. No, wait. It might just be. Good grief. Just my luck…
Kuboyasu halts and… looks at me. Very coldly. The storm in his eyes is wild and clashing. Chaotic. But deep down, his thoughts betray all of that.
Kuboyasu’s worried about me. And he’s mad at himself for being worried about me.
I kind of feel bad for ignoring him, but I don’t really want to do play again…
Who am I kidding—of course I want to play again. I just don’t want to, if that makes sense. If I were to, it’d be Kuboyasu. But I don’t know how safe that would be given that he’s glaring at me like I’m the world’s most hated criminal. It’d be a lie to say that I haven’t been feeling paranoia every time I walked past him at work.
Paranoia feels existential. Temporary but always lingering. The pull deep inside you that manipulates you into challenging your ideas of what can or can’t be. Of who and what to trust specifically.
So to speak, paranoia is something within me that I’ve dealt with for years. It hardly does anything to me when I move to breeze past Kuboyasu. He shuts me down by stepping in front of me, stopping me right there just to stare me down.
It clenches around my heart tightly, almost suffocating. I wonder how I’m not blindsided, but I realize it’s the way I focus on how his lips part before he murmurs something.
“My number.”
A breath escapes my lips. “…I’m not understanding.”
Kuboyasu shows me his hand, revealing a folded piece of paper. “Take… my number,” he mutters again, glancing away. There’s a hint of red on his cheeks.
Frowning, I cross my arms. “Why should I do that?”
He swallows thickly, trying not the crumble the tiny paper between his calloused fingers. “You’re dropping again, Saiki. Anyone could tell.”
‘…His skin is so dull right now. Damn it! I just want to… I don’t know, see him better or something…’
I blink. And breathe. Then I sigh. “That’s none of your-”
“Don’t be an idiot, Saiki. I know you need it, so take my damn number and call me whenever you stop being pissy about having to play with me.” Kuboyasu scolds. “That’s what this whole avoidance thing is about, right?”
When I don’t speak, he narrows his eyes and raises his voice. “Even if we don’t play, go ahead and find some other damn partner, but don’t let me keep seeing you looking like shit all the time!”
…Oh. He’s been holding that in, hasn’t he? But who is he to yell at me?
I bite my lip in annoyance. Despite how unsettled I feel from him chastising me, I snatch the paper from his clenched hand. “Stop worrying about me, Kuboyasu. We’re not friends.”
Kuboyasu sucks his teeth, his gaze menacing as he looks down on me. “Damn right we’re not…”
It’s said just under his breath, loud enough for me to hear. I keep silent, pretending to be unbothered even though my ears are ringing from the thunderous beating of my heart. I’m tense under his gaze, my nails digging into my palm. My expression is unreadable, but so is his. So we just stare at each other, daring the other to move or say something smart. Like a game that we naturally settle into every time we see each other.
After only 25 seconds, (yes, I counted) Kuboyasu cracks. His eye twitches before he finally glances away. We both know I’ve won this stare down this time. I’m quite proud of myself.
“Tch, whatever.” Kuboyasu turns away to leave me at peace, but he pauses. He glances over his shoulder to give me an expression that can only be described as unfriendly. “I’m one call away if you need me. Got it?”
How can anyone say that with such a hateful expression on their face?
I don’t fully grasp it yet, but I nod anyway. I stand in the bathroom until I hear the thoughts of my boss wondering where I am. I leave the bathroom in a haste and return to my task.
The rest of my day goes in a blur after that, but only because Kuboyasu’s words kept sticking to me. It’s all I can think about when I leave the office and when I buy a snack at the convenience store. Even more when I get on the train ride home eating the snack from the convenience store.
The train is awfully crowded, though I’m lucky to have found a seat next to a nice old man. I glance around the packed train until my eyes land on a couple. Two males; a Dom and a Sub. The collar tells me everything.
The Sub is giving dreamy eyes at the Dom in front of him. And when I say dreamy, I mean an other-worldly look that appears in Subs when they play with a Dom they cherish—or who’s commands they cherish. That out of the world bliss is known as Sub Space—a state of ecstasy achieved through utmost trust between two partners.
Envy simmers inside of me, but I tear my gaze away from them and look down at the paper between my fingers. It’s note Kuboyasu gave me. Crumpled, but still the same note that has his number written.
What? It’s not like I’m actually going to call him. I’ll just save the number in case of an emergency. Anything can happen these days.
The train slows to a stop at my station. I lift my gaze, shivering when I fall under the scrutinizing one of a random Dom. My hands tighten around the note and the bag on my shoulder, but I’m already on my feet and leaving past the open doors. I know not to waste any time freezing under that creeping grasp that look has on me.
The man doesn’t follow me, but I can feel the lingering effects of his stupid glare long after I’ve left the station. It’s not normal. He wasn’t fully glaring at me but I’m still shaken for no real reason.
I’m reminded of the paper in my hands. But I’m more reminded of the person who gave it. The instances and my responses between that man and Kuboyasu had been similar. I wonder if this could this be because of my repressed instincts.
When I get home, I crash onto my bed, curling in on myself seconds before going on my phone. I glance at the crumpled note in my hand, typing Kuboyasu’s number with my other hand. Releasing the paper, I press the phone to my forehead. I startle when I hear the tone dial.
Shit! I accidentally pressed call!
I fumble with the device to end the call, but before I can, Kuboyasu picks up the damn phone at lightning speed.
—Hello?— His voice quickly comes through the line, and my chest flutters. Good grief. It doesn’t. It did not flutter.
“Hello. That was…” I press my lips together. “I accidentally called you. Please forget about it.”
There’s no response for a few seconds. Then, he speaks again. —…Saiki? Are you there?—
“Yes. I just said that…." I trail off as it hits me.
Oh, right. Telepathy doesn’t work over devices. What a pain.
“Hhh… Hell…o.” I cough loudly—what the hell! Sure, I’ve gone years without using my voice, but I didn’t expect to sound this bad!
—There you are. Is everything alright? You sound different.—
Great. Now he sounds concerned. Time to redirect.
I clear my throat. Let’s just try again. “Uhh… y-yes… fffine. Shit. Fine.”
Kill me.
—You sure? I didn’t actually expect a call from you.—
I don’t trust that I can say a full sentence, so I practically whisper. “Accident.” I croak instead.
Kuboyasu chuckles softly. —Sure… Are you afraid to say you wanted to play? I told you I was one call away, Saiki.—
“N-No.” I squeeze my free hand over my face, fighting the urge to die each time I stutter. Phone calls are scary without telepathy. “Uhm. Not that. Just… an accident.”
—Hm… Well, how about it?—
I blink and stare at my wall, fully intending to say no. Swallowing, I open my mouth to reply.
000
We were supposed to ignore each other, but fate brought us right back here in Kuboyasu’s apartment.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself because I don’t want to think that I came here by my own will. No, that’s definitely not it. Although I admit it is my fault for dialing the phone by accident, but something must have influenced me and dragged me over to Kuboyasu’s doorstep—
“Kneel.”
The word rushes through my body like a spell, pulling me to knees in front of the couch and between his spread legs. I stare dazedly at the floor, squeezing my hands over the surface as my heart beckons for another word. Another command, another praise.
I receive just that; in a kind, gentle manner.
“Look up at me.’’
I obey, lifting my gaze and ignoring how my hair obscures my vision. Kuboyasu simply brushes the strands out of my eyes, though I’m so out of it I’ve yet to realize the darkening look in his.
This isn’t bad at all… ask for more.
Ugh. Since when have my own thoughts become like an unforeseeable train wreck? Not even God knows.
“Good boy, Saiki.” Kuboyasu chuckles lowly. It sounds darker, more menacing. For a brief moment, I’m reminded of the stranger on the train, but my brain clouds that memory as well. “Knew you’d come around.”
’He needs me.’
Whatever that means, I’m too focused on the pulsing feeling in my chest. I even forget how weird and meek I sounded when I initially agreed to this over the phone.
This is why it’s so dangerous. Play. Kuboyasu. They’re both so dangerous yet somehow so thrilling.
If I resent the entire idea of it, why do I like it so much when it’s with him?
”Saiki.”
My brain comes back to focus when I hear my name.
”Welcome back to earth,” he jokes. “I’ve called you a few times now.”
His hand rests on my cheek as I grumble a little, wondering what he wants. We were clearly having a moment. I was, at least. Just let me go back.
”You’re not gonna do this bullshit again, right?”
”What bullshit.”
”Avoiding me after play,” Kuboyasu states.
I hesitate, fighting the urge to lean in to his touch as he begins to stroke my cheek.
”But something tells me you won’t stay away for long this time. So I’ll make a deal.”
Oh, please. Enlighten me with this ‘deal.’ Though I already know from your head.
He understands my expression and holds back a laugh. “I bet ¥10,000 that you’ll come back to me sooner this time.”
10,000? That’s brave.
”I bet ¥10,000 that I’ll stay far away from you.” I shoot back, looking into his eyes. I’ll stay away longer than before, no matter what pull these eyes may have on me. I can withstand myself for weeks without him, so I’m confident that I won’t have trouble going longer.
”Oh yeah?”
”Yeah. Deal.”
Notes:
Ugh guys pls dont hate their idiotic push and pull it gets better… leave a comment if you enjoyed :)
Chapter 5: I’m Going Crazy
Notes:
Writers block? What’s that?? See you guys again in a few months! (This is most likely a joke.)
Slightly shorter chapter this time, but I will do my best to get more out soon <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
SAIKI KUSUO
To put it simply; I owe Kuboyasu ¥10,000.
I get it—it’s shameful. I really want to know how things turned out like this as well, but my head is all fuzzy and warm as I sit between Kuboyasu’s legs. Any rational thoughts slowly vanish, replaced by something darker. Something far more dangerous.
The all-consuming need to submit.
Rain crashes against the windows, mini streams of water gliding off the roofs of apartment buildings and dampened store awnings. My eyes flutter shut as the world around me quiets down, leaving me to focus on the swirling feeling inside my stomach. Kuboyasu’s palm caresses my cheek, and I automatically lean into it without fully realizing. Or maybe I’m not fighting against it anymore.
A quiet hum escapes my throat, and I jolt, my eyes snapping open. I’m met with Kuboyasu’s surprised expression, his sharp eyes slightly wide and curious. They’re dark… Really dark, and I’m not sure if it’s just the lighting in the room and how much his pupils are blown.
“Saiki,” he starts with an underlying amused tone. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” I’m quick to say.
“Nothing.” Kuboyasu repeats with incredulity. “You hummed just now.”
I shake my head, ignoring the intrusive memory of Aiura massaging my scalp. “You misheard. I don’t hum.”
He smirks, bringing his hand back to my cheek. I don’t back away. “Sure, and you’re not enjoying this?”
I’m about to shake my head, but lying about that would be more absurd than me just admitting it. I decide to resort to neither and only stare at him. When we lock eyes with each other, Kuboyasu’s heartbeat quickens, a small breath of air leaving his lips. He closes his eyes for a moment before resuming that tantalizingly addicting gesture.
“Good boys don’t lie, Saiki.”
‘But damn, I love seeing him in front of me like this.’
I almost sputter at that, but I keep my mouth shut as red creeps its way up my cheeks and neck. It’s our third time playing. I’m already reduced to this?
“I’m not lying.” I reply.
His hand pauses. “Then why did you come back?”
I want to go home now.
Like a guilty animal, I avoid his gaze. I feel the lie on the tip of my tongue, ready to translate into words—thoughts; I should say.
“I would’ve crashed if I had gone any longer.”
“Crashed?” Kuboyasu laughs, but it’s not condescending or teasing. Just… amused. Like he finds me cute or something. “It’s been three days, Saiki.”
Three days too long. Do you know how easy it was to resist coming here? I only came simply because I needed something from him—an answer; as to why I’m experiencing withdrawals so quickly.
Kuboyasu’s been on my mind. Too much, for much too long, for way too much. This was horribly agitating for me, so I payed him a visit and he sweet-talked me into coming into his apartment since, as you know, I struggle resisting anything sweets-related. That’s the only reason why, really. Sub Drop threatened me almost twice within those days, and I couldn’t just wait it out and pray for the best. No, that’s the last thing you should do when facing such serious complications.
As for why I’m kneeled in front of him right now, that’s where the story gets confusing.
“Freeze,” Kuboyasu says, and I feel myself tense, preparing for the oncoming touch.
His hands glide through my hair before brushing across my collarbone and over my face and eyes. Resisting the urge to pull back, I shudder when his fingers graze my ears—an extremely sensitive part of my body. I pray he doesn’t exploit that further than the light touch he’s doing right now.
My gaze drops to the floor again, and I know there’s a visible pink dusting my cheeks. I blink rapidly when his hands cup my face, my heart racing as I ready myself for the command that will come.
“Look at me.” Kuboyasu gently demands as usual—his favorite one for some reason. I look up, and part of me is eager for the next words. “That’s it… What a good boy.”
Heat swirls inside of me, my brows pinching at the sudden reaction. I’m deeply ashamed for enjoying this so much. I mean, I walked in here with the intention of asking why he couldn’t stay out of my head, and his only response was in that calm, knowing voice, “because you wanted to play again?”
Tch. As if.
I don’t like being controlled. It’s merely my dynamic—there’s no underlying kink here, of course. His words are only affecting me because I’m a Sub. Obviously, not every Sub gets off on being called a good boy or girl, but you know, it varies. Instinct and all…
Kuboyasu gives me a smile, his expression softening a tad. “Ah, actually… I have an idea, so give me a second, okay? Be good and stay.”
Then, he removes his hands from my face and stands up, immediately side-stepping me to head for the kitchen. Like a hawk, I watch him as he opens a white box. I’m immediately sitting upright when I see him take out a donut. The box has multiple.
Oh man… When was the last time I had one? Oh, he’s coming back now. Is he going to share with me? Tease me? I don’t know. What I do know is that I really want a bite.
“You’re drooling over donuts? Didn’t expect you to be the type.”
Am I? Well, it’s a perfectly valid reaction. You can apply the same thing to play.
As he sits in front of me again, I wipe the drool from the corner of my mouth, looking up without him needing to ask. Kuboyasu offers the donut, so I open my mouth, ready to bite into it. He snatches it back.
“Did I say you could bite into it?”
Oh, what the hell.
“You look like a damn kitten when you pout.” He says with an amused smirk.
It’s funny that you think I am capable of pouting. Sneering? Maybe. Smiling? On occasion. But pouting? I don’t pout.
Kuboyasu laughs and tugs at my cheek. I swat his hand away with a glare. “That look is definitely saying ‘I don’t pout, asshole.’”
I did not give him permission to read me. Though I guess I am technically doing the same through mind reading, but that’s not something I can simply turn off. Oh, cue the mind reading.
‘God, he really is cute. Like an angry cat who got his food taken away.’
Stop comparing me to a cat. It’s ridiculous and annoying.
When he’s done laughing, he leans back with a sigh. “But I think I actually like this side of you.”
I don’t care what you think—just give me that donut already.
My eyes dart towards the dessert in his hand. It’s silent. Me and him are staring at the treat.
Hurry up and command me already! I need a bite…
“Okay, okay,” he laughs again since I’m apparently hilarious. But finally, he raises the donut to my lips. “Eat.”
Without waiting, I dive in and bite, unaware of how Kuboyasu’s heart rate spikes. I manage to mostly control my expression as I chew. He huffs a breath and slides a hand to the back of my neck, tilting my head up. I open my eyes in time to see his expression of endearment, and I immediately stop chewing.
Endearment?
“Look at you,” he mutters, voice slightly strained. “So damn pretty…”
Pre…tty?
My expression is blank as I process his words that seem to carry the weight of a thousand stars. This must be the phenomena of the world slowing to a stop. And… God, it’s weird. Weird to experience and feel. Weird to even think about.
A moment after, Kuboyasu seems to realize what he said. He abruptly leans back and takes his pants in a harsh grip with his free hand. My eyes betray me by flicking to the bitten donut in his other hand.
“Shit, sorry… You probably don’t wanna hear that from me… I got-” He pauses, looking back at me. “…carried away.”
No, I…
I glance back at him, my heart sinking a little despite the unnatural, stuttering beats.
Hold up. What was I gonna think just now? Surely, I couldn’t have liked being called pretty by him. A praise like that pisses me off more than anything. And if anything, I really hate it.
I don’t like it. I don’t want to hear it again. Ever.
And yet here I am, brimming with energy and heat. Shame locks me in a tight hold when I close my eyes and shake my head.
No! Praise is seriously bad! What is wrong with me?
“You’re… okay with it? Seriously?”
Of course not. I should despise being treated like… like a…
‘No way, could Saiki actually like praise for real…?’
I keep my gaze to the side as I nod—to his thought?! Oh fuck, I screwed up bad. This is going to be used against me.
“Oh, okay.”
‘He’s full of surprises…‘
Moments later, the donut is presented to me again. Heat flushes my cheeks as I listen to Kuboyasu’s gentle commands of ‘eat, swallow, and look up.’ I feel nothing but bliss as I give in to the moment.
Wow. Who knew play could feel so good? Although last time was indeed thrilling, it wasn’t as thrilling as right now. What changed?
Before I can even think, thunder that mirrored his eyes crashes somewhere in the city. The bolt lights up Kuboyasu’s face for a split second when he says, “such a sweet expression.”
Why is all this phenomena happening?
I’m warm. Happy even, but deep down I’m still worried. The timing of that was way too precise for comfort. Is he psychic too, or…?
A devil, truly. I’m kneeled in front of a devil.
My control is with him, meaning he has all the power to do anything. I’m not entirely sure if I will be able to stop it.
Of course, I can… maybe. With great difficulty or not. But if this situation were to ever go downhill, I would…
My negative thoughts vanish when he speaks again. “That’s my good boy.”
I refuse to think of how intimate that one feels.
Kuboyasu raises his hand towards my face, his thumb hovering over my lip before lightly pressing, pulling my bottom lip down. “You really… enjoy praise more than you let on, don’t you?” His voice is low, a devil’s whisper in my ears.
A whisper that draws me closer, closing part of the shared space between us. Kuboyasu’s lips curl into a smirk. It’s like he realized something about me. There’s an exciting fear inside me that he did realize.
Danger doesn’t cross my mind—only the urge to get closer until there’s no space between us. Even the voice in the back of my mind that screams at me to stop everything I’m doing sounds like a distant, quiet murmur.
The rain doesn’t exist anymore. All I can hear is the devil that is whispering in my ear.
000
The devil appears in front of me the next day at work.
“Saiki,” Kuboyasu greets with a wave. I resist a sigh as I pick up my coffee. Then, I turn to him and nod.
“Lookin’ good today. You sleep nice?”
‘Oh crap. I hope that didn’t sound too flirty. I meant it casually, but did I come off too strong?!’
Kuboyasu’s train of thought makes me cringe, but I only blink and say, “I slept fine. Nothing’s really happened since yesterday.”
“Is that so? Guess that bet was really worth it after all. And I won ¥10,000 from it!” He teases annoyingly.
I roll my eyes and mix sugar into my coffee before tasting it. It’s sweet. Hot but sweet. It feels familiar in more ways than one. Ugh.
Kuboyasu shrugs and continues, “but hey, it’s not all that bad is it? I mean, both of us benefit from it. And well… y’know, I was thinking…” He glances away when I look at him again. “Maybe we could make it a thing? Like, we could… I don’t know, play at work if you’re down for it.”
I nearly spit out my coffee at the ridiculous suggestion Kuboyasu makes. Did he even think that through?
Pausing, I narrow my eyes, scrutinizing him for that weird ass idea. In public, couples are seen everywhere in the middle of play sessions. But for me, turn off would be an understatement. Good grief.
“What makes you think I’d enjoy that any more than me forcing myself to show up in front of you?”
Kuboyasu frowns. “Don’t make it seem like I force you to do anything. You always showed up on your own accord, Saiki.” He says coldly, making me turn away instinctively.
“Well… Fine,” I mutter before bringing myself to meet his gaze again. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were forcing me. I just don’t like the idea of playing in public.”
Nor do I like him, but I can’t exactly say that to him.
He sighs and says, “instead, I was thinking we could go to an empty meeting room or something during our breaks so it wouldn’t be in front of others. I know you’re not the most outgoing person, so privacy is kind of a given with you, isn’t it?”
Whatever. Either way, I don’t see the benefits of bringing this relationship to work. It’s bad enough that I feel the need to seek Kuboyasu now more than ever. Just how bad would it get if I were to increase the sessions?
I turn away from him. “Sorry, Kuboyasu. But I’ll pass.”
He laughs awkwardly and nods. “That’s alright. I hope you’ll consider it, though.”
Sure, I’ll consider it—whenever coffee jelly starts to taste bad.
I leave without responding, but Kuboyasu just follows me out of the break room and back to our department. He hovers like Nendou and Kaidou, though at least he’s not talking my ear off. That is if you don’t take into account of his mind.
I sit down in my seat and take note of the work I have to do. Kaidou sees us and immediately approaches with the most enthusiasm he can muster while Kuboyasu lingers behind me, but I pay no mind to either of them as I set my coffee down.
Kaidou doesn’t even get a word out before hearing the voices of two colleagues.
“Did you hear about the three missing Subs?”
Kuboyasu and Kaidou turn their heads. I grip my cup of coffee as we overhear the conversation our coworkers have.
The other woman sighs, “I did… it’s so heartbreaking.”
“Yeah. In our city alone, too…”
They pout at each other, worry etched onto their faces. I glance back at the stack of papers on my desk, a chilling feeling creeping up my spine. My heart sinks when I hear an even more chilling thought.
‘Damn. I wanna fucking kill them.’
What the hell? How could someone be so full of malice?
“Oh no,” Kaidou squeaks. “T-That sounds pretty terrible! Do you guys think the police will ever find those Subs?”
I still in my seat, refusing to engage in the conversation. I’m more worried about that creepy thought that I just heard. Why does he want to kill those girls? Is murder a Dom’s natural instinct? Or is it just Kuboyasu?
Narrowing his eyes, Kuboyasu responds, “doubt it. Police don’t give two shits about Subs. I’ll even bet that they’re covering shit up just to not have to spend their time and resources on them.”
I look over my shoulder just in time to see Kaidou frown. “…You think so?”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t expect anything less from those lazy bastards.” He says in a grim voice, clearly bothered.
They turn to me, waiting for my opinion. My face almost betrays me, so I turn away in my chair, refusing to utter a word.
It is a well known fact that Subs are… viewed as inferior. Powerless. And we only take up so much of the population, which is why governments and police forces almost always turn a blind eye to the mistreatment of Subs.
Still… what did Kuboyasu mean by that thought? Is he actually more dangerous than I thought he was? What if he’s part of the reason these Subs are missing?
My grip tightens around the cup.
Could it… could it really be?
In a world of power and control, the chances of a Sub earning a voice is close to none. The chances of a Sub being recovered from illegal activities are even lower! If he really is a part of this—
Before I can panic any longer, another thought enters my head.
‘Whoever’s kidnapping these Subs… Fuck. They’re likely Doms, aren’t they? …Boils my blood just thinking about it.’
I blink.
…Huh?
Suddenly, Kaidou shrieks. “S-Saiki! You spilled coffee all over your desk!”
And sigh.
Good grief. Though, something in me feels slightly better knowing how Kuboyasu seems to acknowledge the fucked up things in this society.
Notes:
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