Chapter Text
The man’s face is bright red and there’s a thick streak of blood running down the corner of his mouth. A tear trails down his cheek, the drop of salt water running faster when he flinches, his eyes closing suddenly making more tears leave his eyes. He puts his hands up in front of his face to avoid being hit again and whimpers. This has been going on for a while and he’s at his limit. Hongjoong shifts where he’s sitting, his body leaning forward, closer to the action, so enthralled he is by one of those rare tapes that depict actual violence. It might end in a profitable snuff. Perfect profile view, the VHS clean and sharp, shot close enough that you could see the fear in the victim’s face. It makes him a bit sick to his stomach but he can’t tear his eyes away. The man’s hands are pushed down with impatient sharpness but he puts them up again, visibly trembling, turns his face away from the aggressor, whines sharply in fear, and then something shifts.
There’s tenderness when the other’s hand comes back close to the victim. It gently touches the victim’s hands and caresses him for a moment, and then it moves to his face to rub his cheek, and slowly the man puts his own hands down and looks up. The other one is visible from the waist down on the corner of the screen. Hongjoong gets on the edge of his seat, almost falling off the chair with his desperate curiosity, right leg bouncing up and down in anxious anticipation of sudden violence.
“You ok?” The words coming from the man out of frame are clear, his voice low and raspy, and the one whose face is bruised and bloody nods, lips parting as he takes a deep breath, another tear wells up in his eye and falls. “Wanna stop?”
The man in frame closes his mouth and swallows. He seems to hesitate, eyes lowering and hand coming up to wipe his chin. For a moment he looks at it. The room is poorly lit, seems to be a studio apartment where the only light that’s on is a ceiling light somewhere behind the camera, meant to light up another space, but Hongjoong can still see blood glistening on the back of his hand for a moment when the light catches just right. The other man’s hand continues to caress his face as he waits for a reply, and the one in frame acknowledges the camera for the first time, looking directly into the lens, to the watcher, with streaks of tears on his reddened cheeks and wet blood on the back of his hand. Then he looks up again, and shakes his head no.
The exchanged look with the man on the tape, however asynchronous, however anonymous, is freezing, it makes Hongjoong complicit in this, makes him a voyeur in a way he wasn’t before. With years of going through randomly found homemade movies, every once in a while stumbling upon a low quality, shot from afar scene of a crime or snuff (which Hongjoong always thought were fake), without Hongjoong realizing they had started feeling much more like movies than documents of violence.
Hongjoong releases a breath he hadn't even noticed he was holding, and then holds his breath again to wait for another blow, as he’s sure the man about to receive it holds his as well. It’s thrilling in a new way to see that everything up until now was all consensual and that he is now a witness of this sick game, and Hongjoong’s body reacts to the twisted thrill of it. Reacts even harder when the other man comes into frame, and the first one is pulled by the hair until he’s standing and his face is sadly out of his sight, and he hears a hard slap that makes the man’s body sway to one side and Hongjoong’s own to twitch and tense up, but the man is held in place probably by the hair still, and the impact noise is followed by a cry of pain. He’s told to shut up, and there’s a strong thud against the wall that makes Hongjoong flinch this time, and muffled noises of discomfort. The next thing that happens is a punch to his guts. It seemed pretty real, fist drawing back a few centimeters before driving into the victim’s abdomen, the sudden groan of pain sounded real, the reaction of the man folding in on himself, relying on the wall to keep him somewhat steady as he crumbled back onto the floor, it was all convincing. It wasn’t like a movie, rehearsed and choreographed. It looked a bit clumsy, unplanned, visceral as it probably was.
The man curls up into a ball with his head hanging forward, but his hair is pulled again to make him lift his head, and once more the victim looks straight into Hongjoong’s eyes, and for a fraction of a moment he doesn’t seem to be in pain or discomfort, he just looks glorious with the glow from the sweat and the temporary marks of violence and the testimony of his pain in the form of blood and tears, the rawness of it all is glorious.
The anonymous man on the tape gets his cock out of his pants, a sick and twisted promise that he's gonna further violate his victim that makes Hongjoong all too aware of his own dick being hard in his pants. He follows the lead of what is established by this psychotic home movie and fishes his own cock out of his pants too, which throbs with its uncomfortable demand for attention as he evaluates this tape from the comfort of his work desk at home.
The abused man whimpers again, grabs the other’s wrist that pulls him by the hair to try to be set free, he struggles and tries to turn his face away from the hard cock in his face. And then he talks for the first time since the tape started.
“That's enough,” he pleads in a high pitch, sounding as desperate as he looks as he paws on the other’s leg to try and push him away at the same time as he tries to resist the way his head is being pulled. “Let go.”
Hongjoong’s cock almost hurts with how hard he is while watching the teary pleas. He wonders if it really is consensual, though he’s spitting in his hand already to have an easier time gliding it over his erection. He wonders if that man is being held captive by a psycho and has no option but to agree to more violence, otherwise why would someone subject themself to that? Hongjoong has all those questions swirling in his head while the victim on the tape has his head shaken aggressively from side to side so he’ll stop resisting the hold, and at the end he’s slapped again with the back of a hand, his breathing is so heavy, there’s a cry that comes up from the back of his throat, squeaky little whine as he fails to contain more tears, and then he’s tame, he stops struggling.
With pathetic urgency, Hongjoong lifts his hips to get his pants down a little more so he has more freedom of movement. His cock is already slick with his spit and he keeps his eyes peeled to the screen with sick fascination while the man guides the tip of his dick to drag over the trail of blood from the corner of the victim’s mouth to his chin, smearing his cock with all the body fluids mixed there. The man whose face Hongjoong can see looks up with his big eyes, shining so brightly under the poor light due to all the tears that keep leaking from the corners, and he’s so pliant and submissive watching his aggressor’s face as he drags his dick all over his face, using it to smear one of his tears over his cheek.
“Open up, pretty.”
And the man once again chokes back a sob, his eyebrows joining in the middle, eyes filling up again.
“That's enough.” His voice is soft and raspy and filled with the quavering of his tearing up.
Hongjoong decides the man on the tape is good at pretending he doesn’t like it, otherwise it would mean Hongjoong is jerking it as fast as physically possible to a crime. He covers his own mouth to muffle his moans, so shameful to make noises when he’s beating it on his own like a virgin boy who can’t control himself. And that’s exactly what he feels like when he cums as soon as the man’s hair is yanked back to force him to open his mouth. As he continues to resist, keeping his jaw locked and mouth closed, the other's fist connects with the side of his jaw. It's not too strong in comparison to what came before, but it sends a serious message and causes the man on the floor to let out a prolonged whine. When his hair is pulled back again, he opens his mouth, maybe to make the violence stop and comply, maybe just so he can let out a new cry; whatever it is, the other one shoves his dick in there at once, making his victim gag, retch, and holding him down so he can’t get rid of the cock to get some air.
Riddled by sick curiosity, Hongjoong continues watching even though he’s trembling and his hand is covered in cum and he has nothing around him to wipe it off with. The man on the tape continues crying as his throat gets thoroughly fucked, his eyes roll back and he keeps gagging and retching and they need to take a break for him to breathe, time during which he whimpers with every breath and lets either drool or…something else run freely from his mouth to the floor as he gasps for air with his tongue out. He says something quietly a couple times with his exhales, and Hongjoong can’t be certain but it sounds like “that’s enough, that’s enough”, and after he says it a few times, after he recovers enough energy to try to get away by crawling backwards towards the wall, the abuse starts again.
When the man cums, Hongjoong is pretty sure he dumps part of it in the victim’s mouth before pulling out to finish on his face. The man’s mouth hangs open, like he’s too tired to close it, and spit and cum come out by the corner, drip down his chin onto his shirt, stained with blood and wet with drool and sweat. He keeps his eyes closed so no cum will get inside and all he does is wait for the other one to be done.
He’s let go, and crumbles to the floor instantly, falling on his side. Hongjoong can barely see him, the angle not favorable for it. After tucking himself back in his pants, the other man probes at his leg with the tip of his shoe.
“Did you cum?” The one on the floor moves his head, seems to shake it no. “You want to?” Another no. “Do you wanna stop?” The movement is different this time, he seems to nod.
Instead of stepping away, the other man steps close, gently prods the victim’s stomach with the tip of his shoe just to watch him fold in on himself in fear of more abuse. He seems to be teasing, waiting for the other to plead, and when nothing comes he draws his foot back a few centimeters to land a kick to the other’s stomach, which causes him to groan and hold the impacted area as if to protect himself from another blow in the same place. The foot is there again, poking and teasing some part that the hand can’t cover, and then it comes, in a weak teary voice:
“Bookworm.”
Just like that, the man who’s standing gets out of frame. Seconds later the camera moves, and there’s some rustling around it for only a moment before everything goes black.
*
Hongjoong's heart is racing when he finishes the tape. Some amount of courage is needed for him to be able to look down, all too aware of what he'd done in the heat of the moment. There's a streak of cum on the back of his hand, some on his pubes, some shot on his pants and on the floor between his legs, and he apparently had rolled the wheels of the chair over it when he pushed himself back to be able to assess the damage. It feels weird.
There's a good amount of guilt in his guts replacing the void left by one of the most satisfying orgasms he'd had in a while. No porn he'd ever watched had been that visceral, and it's sinister that this one made him feral the way he felt.
Hongjoong crosses his leg, resting an ankle on his knee so he can use the hem of the now dirtied pants to quickly clean up his hand. He stops the recording on the software on his computer, and then, while bent over to watch the wheels of the chair and make sure it wouldn't go over his cum again, he pushes himself to the side, so he can reach the VHS player that's hooked to his computer to stop playing the tape and press rewind.
As the whirring sound begins, Hongjoong decides, for his own sake, that it was a freaky albeit consensual tape. They were all very much adult parties who had prenegotiated and who both enjoyed themselves during that time, despite what it looked like on the images. That's what Hongjoong needs to tell himself. It's not like he'll ever figure out the answer, anyway.