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andrew_in_drag) wrote2013-04-18 08:59 pm
House of Cards: 2/??
Author:
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andrew_in_dragRating: NC-17
Pairings: Kyo/Toshiya, Kaoru/Toshiya, Die/Shinya, Aoi/Toshiya (this chapter), Aoi/Uruha
General Warnings: AU, slash, violence, language, yakuza theme.
Chapter Warnings: non-con, humiliation
Previously: The Prodigy | The Rent Boy
Notes: this is the prequel to Protect Me. For the yakuza terminology and hierarchy that I'm working with, please see here.
When a young prostitute is found with blood on his hands, he catches the eye of the Inagawa clan's prodigy and quickly finds himself tangled up within Osaka's criminal underworld. Taken into a yakuza house and pimped by the mysterious shateigashira, he is desperate for any means of escape - but in a house of cards, can anybody really be trusted?
CHAPTER TWO: THE ESCORT
“I'll bet,” Aoi said, “I could fry an egg on his cock right about now.”
With a great effort, Toshiya lifted his head, and Aoi grinned. The boy before him looked mad enough to kill. Livid red spots stood out on each of Toshiya's cheeks and his teeth were bared in a threatening snarl; all down his body, Aoi could see how his muscles were tensed so hard they were shaking. His chest rose and fell in deep, unsteady breaths, and his clear dark eyes had narrowed themselves into hard black pebbles, no light left inside them.
“Aoi,” Kyo said, “That is a really goddamn fucking weird thing to say.” He paused. “Is he under control?”
“You under control, Hara?”
Toshiya gritted his teeth. He had never been so painfully hard in his life, cock dripping, legs trembling; where his fists were tied behind his back, his fingernails had cut red crescents into his palms. He was drenched in sweat.
Moreover, he had never felt so humiliated.
“Fuck you,” he spat, his jaw snapping together harshly.
Kyo turned around, waving a disinterested hand.
“Alright, Aoi, carry on.”
It had all begun earlier that day, when the two of them – Kyo and Aoi – had each placed a vicelike hand on one of Toshiya's shoulders, and between them they had frogmarched him down a narrow flight of stairs, through a door and into the cramped and airless basement where he now sat. The stairs had been concealed behind a heavy-looking, ornate altar, and in the darkness below Toshiya had only been able to make out the extremes: a glaring bank of computer screens running surveillance tapes from places he did not recognise; the half-lit outline of a wooden chair; a cement floor.
“Strip.”
In the darkness, Toshiya thought that the command had probably come from the shateigashira: the voice had been just that bored and impassive-sounding. He had hesitated, and one or the other of them – Aoi, he thought – had jabbed him roughly in the back, pitching him forwards against the hard floor. He had started to undress, then, shaking in the chill, damp air. How long had it been since this room had seen daylight?
He wasn't sure if he was shaking from the cold or the fear. As his clothes piled up on the floor, he heard the door lock.
“You do everything,” Aoi had informed him briefly, “Without hesitating. With no fucking questions. You got it? We say undress, you undress. We say get on your knees, you get on your knees. We say jump off a building, we'd sure as hell be hearing your brains spray the pavement; you got it, Hara?”
A furious silence radiated from the floor, and Aoi's teeth and lip ring flashed in the darkness.
“When we ask you a question, you answer us, Hara.”
“I thought you said no fucking questions – ow!”
He recoiled from the escort's sudden strike, rubbing the side of his head resentfully.
“Stand up. Straight.” A torch suddenly clicked into life, its light blinding, and Toshiya blinked and saw blue. The beam stayed steadily pointing at his eyes as he got to his feet, dazzling him so much he couldn't see a thing beyond it; it changed hands, Aoi to Kyo, and a rough hand grabbed his throat and forced his head straight.
“Open your eyes.”
He couldn't see what was happening, but Toshiya knew he was being looked at. The sensation made him shudder: the feeling of eyes raking over his skin, checking for faults. Uncaring fingers raked through his hair, examining it at the roots; they twisted his head first to one side and then to the other.
“Haircut,” a low voice muttered, “We'll dye it, too.”
Toshiya squinted, his eyes adjusting. He could pick out Aoi's smile, just about, but the shateigashira's face was still in darkness. He was holding the torch.
“What about his teeth?” Aoi said leadingly, laughter in his voice, “Unfixable?”
“Just remember what I'm telling you, Aoi. I don't want your input.”
The torchlight dropped lower. Neck and shoulders. Toshiya's muscles were felt; his arms were lifted.
“You'll have to shave that,” Aoi admonished. “No body hair, at all. No beard, no pit hair...” he grinned, “No pubes. Got it?”
“He's got it.”
Lower. Chest, stomach, hips. The cool, impersonal hands of the shateigashira felt along the lines of his ribcage and his abdominal muscles; they measured the span of his hips and pinched a nipple, just gently, making Toshiya hiss.
“Too skinny,” Kyo muttered.
“Die said he hasn't been eating.”
“He'll eat.”
The flashlight swivelled back up to Toshiya's, jerking a small yelp from his lips as he strained away from the light.
“He'll eat,” Kyo repeated.
Lower still. Toshiya shivered as the beam centred itself on his upper thighs and dick. There was something so clinical about the white light, so intrusive; he shut his eyes tight, willing himself not to feel hands, but he did. His legs were gently but insistently parted and his lower body thoroughly explored. The light went front to back as Kyo walked slowly around him, pausing momentarily at his ass.
“Too skinny,” he said again, apparently to himself.
Toshiya had a sarcastic retort to that, but somehow he couldn't get it past his lips. He was aware that his cheeks were burning and that his body was starting to shake uncontrollably, and that there was a horrible, unshakeable kind of dizziness circling in his head. The light had moved to his knees and lower, his shins, his feet, but he couldn't stop his trembling.
He felt small. Small and skinny, and utterly powerless.
“No problems,” Kyo reported shortly, and Aoi nodded.
“Great. Onto the good part.”
The flash of his teeth in the darkness was like a warning sign flickering into life.
“What we're going to do now,” he declared, “Is train you up. See how much you can take. Build some stamina. Got it?”
Silence. The light of the torch returned its glare to Toshiya's face, and he gave a single, wincing nod.
“Good. Now get on the chair,” Aoi said lazily, “And put your hands behind your back.”
That brought the scene back to Toshiya sat in the chair, hands and feet lashed together with coarse rope, a string of muttered swearwords flowing from his lips as Aoi slowly stroked him, up and down, one finger pausing at the tip of his cock to smudge a pearly drop of precum down the shaft.
“What are you thinking of,” he asked confidingly, “To keep yourself from cumming?”
There was no answer, and Aoi gently leant forwards to lick the tip. A strangled yelp escaped Toshiya's throat, and the escort sat back smugly.
“Tell me, or I'll make it worse.”
“How much the rope – f – fuck – fucking hurts.”
“Get used to it.”
“Shouldn't it – y-you didn't have – you didn't have handcuffs?”
“We're not the police, sweetheart.” Aoi smiled blandly. “How much would you like to cum?”
A little laugh bubbled from his lips. “Look at him, Kyo,” he said gleefully, “I've never seen anybody so worked up.”
“As I recall,” the shateigashira responded dryly, “He's lasting a lot longer than you did.”
Kyo was lounging against the wall and reading a paperback novel.
Toshiya squeezed his eyes shut, trying to even out his breathing. He could hear the frenzied thrashing of his blood in his ears; feel the way his body was straining upwards, trying to buck against the air.
Desperate. He bit his lip and tasted blood.
He wasn't thinking of the ropes; he was thinking of home. He was trying to turn the darkness on the backs of his eyelids into that monochrome mountain scenery he had grown up against; the stark black peaks against the white and hungry sky; the grey tone to the grass – that thin, scratchy winter grass – and the rocks lounging longways, and the wind gagging his mouth with his own blown hair, and the shriek of predator birds, and the bareness, and the emptiness; mountains so tall it slowed his mind to look at them.
Kyo's gaze burned across his face, and he opened his eyes reluctantly.
The shateigashira's eyes said, I know you're not thinking about the pain.
I know you went away somewhere.
I'm going to make sure you never do that again.
There was a bottomlessness to his stare that made Toshiya's sweat run cold. He felt afraid. The shateigashira had the look about him of an animal about to pounce or a tightly coiled spring; threat ran in his veins, extravagant, like torture.
“He doesn't want to cum,” Aoi was saying, his voice a little hysterical, “He doesn't even want to cum! Shall we leave him here and let it go down by itself? Shall we—”
“We're done,” Kyo said shortly. “Finish him off and get Die to take him back upstairs.”
“But, I – what?”
“His stamina is fine. There's nothing else to do.”
“But—”
“Don't you have work to do somewhere else?” Kyo asked blankly. “I don't want to repeat myself. Finish him off and meet me upstairs.”
And without another word, he turned to leave. And Toshiya was surprised at how empty he felt.
And how suddenly terrified.
In the wake of Kyo's leaving, a bitter silence filled the basement. Aoi sighed, and Toshiya noticed that his breath came out in a cloud of white; he had been teased so much that his own blood was running hot; he had forgotten how cold the basement was.
“Handjob,” Aoi asked flatly, “Or blowjob?”
“Just give me one of my hands back, will you?”
“Think I'm an idiot?”
“Yes. My legs are tied to the chair; how do you think I'm going to get away?”
“Sweetheart, I don't care if you run away or if you die right now.”
He smacked the wall suddenly, an expression of fury contorting his face.
“Why did you have to do it?” he asked viciously, “Huh? You fucking idiot. You don't know a yakuza when you see one? You couldn't have just let the old man kill you?”
He licked his palm angrily and grasped Toshiya's cock, making him gasp.
“It's all poor you, poor you,” he hissed, “You don't even know how badly you're fucking everything up. Think there's room for you in this business? Fuck you. I used to be number one. I used to be on top, and I need to be, I—”
He cut himself off roughly, and the way he sniffed and turned his head to the side told Toshiya that he might even be crying.
“Aoi—”
“They got him,” he interrupted. “Two years ago now, and they're never going to set him free until he pays off his debts, and he didn't even do anything wrong; just a little gambling, just a little bit.”
Toshiya swallowed heavily, trying to stop his voice from shaking. The rushing, falling-away feeling in his veins had ebbed away, a slow tide; he shifted, sticky with sweat and starting to shiver.
“You're here for somebody else?” he asked, his voice echoing hollowly in the empty room.
A smile crossed Aoi's face. Unlike before, it wasn't triumphant or smug or gleeful; rather, knelt at Toshiya's feet, it looked tender.
“My best friend,” he said, “Uruha.” He laughed breathily. “He just doesn't know when to stop. You know? But I'm going to get him out. If I can help pay his debt then maybe he can have – he can still have a life, you know? He won't be stuck here forever.”
His gaze turned cool. “Not like you,” he said callously, but sighed. “You want a cigarette?”
“I don't smoke.”
“Start,” Aoi ordered bluntly, “You're going to need it.” He shook out a packet of Marlboro and stuck one cigarette between Toshiya's lips, one between his own; with a hand that was not altogether steady, he lit both of them up. Apparently oblivious to the difficulties Toshiya was having with his hands tied, he smoked pensively. The captive inhaled deeply and began to cough, his cigarette falling and rolling, still lit, across the floor; Aoi rolled his eyes.
“Where the fuck did they get you from anyway?”
He sighed. “Fucking animal.”
And smoothly, in one calm motion, he picked up Toshiya's cigarette and ground it out on the skin just behind the rent boy's ear.
“Get in my way,” he said softly, “And I'll destroy you.”
The slam of the door behind him made Toshiya wince. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, reaching desperately for his own resolve. He didn't have to be told to know it would be some time before Aoi sent Die down to untie him.
A/N: 1. I had to do some research for this chapter and holy shit is there some weird stuff in my internet history now.
2. Yes, Aoi's a dick in this, but he has his reasons. Oh god, even the backstory is getting a backstory.
3. Hopefully we'll be seeing more of Die and Shinya soon!
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Oh I miss Die and his eyebrows already XD
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And oh god, Die's eyebrows. I'm not even sure if this fic can cope with them.
But who am I kidding, I know they'll be there.
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Yes, the eyebrows seem to be more popular than Die himself lol (Sorry this doesn't make sense!)
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Kyo has power over everybody so far, however I'm starting to be afraid of the day he, well, somehow will become weaker because of a certain whore *ouch sorry Toshiya my dear* Like "All the things I have lost because of the love" omg I dont want that day to come T__T Sorry Kyo's over-protective fangirl feels become too overwhelming T___T
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I had a question about the tags for this entry in Dir en grey yaoi for Cadkitten, and I mentioned to her that this chapter would be kind of kinky for me.
Then I thought, "What am I talking about, this chick is the queen of kink and I'm getting agitated over a slightly mean handjob?!"
That's how vanilla I am.
I do love to put Kyo through the shredder though. He does remain pretty tough in this, though. I'm really looking forward to the chapter when he cracks just a little bit, and I get to give his character a little explanation.
I just love doing backstories. We get Shinya's in the next chapter.
HOW EXCITINGAnyway, thanks for reading and commenting love, it is obvious I am farrrr too committed to this fic already.
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A/N #1 LMAO