Chapter 8


The room was thrown into darkness and Ryo could hear the incessant droning of the air-conditioner. In the dark, every one of his senses was heightened and he could feel Ohkura studying him. A flash of lightning ensnared the room in brightness, and he could make out Ohkura looming above him, his fingers tracing the contour of his lip, the slightest of touch whispering across his lips. Ryo felt like he was straddling two emotions; fear and desire. A familiar remorse mingled coldly with the helplessness he felt in his gut. For such a long time, he had been submerged in this perpetual darkness that he had forgotten Ohkura could be capable of tenderness too. But of course, it only came on his own terms, when it suited him and Ryo had learnt that with Ohkura, the tenderness was only a lure, a bait to seduce the unsuspecting. And yet, he allowed himself to be fooled, again and again.


Another crash of thunder tumbled down from the angry skies and Ryo flinched. He hated the thunder, hated the howling dirge of the winds that sounded like the shrill cries of his victims. He hated the shadows that played across the walls, shadows that reminded him he wasn’t safe at all. Not even within these walls.


“You’re still afraid of thunderstorms Ryo. Still afraid.” He heard Ohkura’s soft voice, goading him, priming him for submission.


“Maybe I’m just afraid of you.” Ryo said, and in the glint of the lightning, he saw Ohkura’s looking down at him, and his own breath sounded obscenely loud in his eyes. He felt Ohkura’s hand, moving down to his chest, pressing down hard and it felt like he was drowning. Drowning in all the silk and cotton and being swallowed by darkness. And the only company inside the smothering night was Ohkura. He couldn’t see him but he could feel his presence like static electricity, making him crackle with the unwanted energy.


Then he felt Ohkura wrap his hand around his throat and he wondered whether his confession of fear had finally made him useless to Ohkura. Because he had ceased to be different from everyone else, because maybe all Ohkura had wanted from him was his subjugation and now that Ryo had willingly relinquished it, he was no longer of relevance. It felt like there wasn’t even air in the room for both of them as Ohkura’s hand tightened and his lips hovered above his, even as he gasped for air.


Finally something in him snapped. He didn’t even realize it had been there, but he heard it with resounding clarity. He struggled, his hands clawed and he cracked the back of his palm across Ohkura’s face. He thought he saw Ohkura’s face illuminated by the slant of light, and he could feel arousal blooming in him, pooling in him like blood. With Ohkura, it always came entangled with the violence, and it was searingly erotic and frightening all at once.


Then he felt Ohkura leaning into him, grinding into him obscenely in a parody of sex.


“The hell you’re afraid of me Ryo.”


That mere sentence, whispered into his ear was like a match struck on sandpaper. And Ryo grabbed a fistful of Ohkura’s hair, yanking him down. It was like a rude collision, a crashing of bodies as he bucked upwards and Ohkura forced his weight down onto him. Fine, he didn’t want anything resembling tenderness from Ohkura. That way, he could pretend he was not trapped in the heart of the storm, stuck in the swirl of that entire tempest around him because he was blindsided by love.


----


In the brief seconds of intermittent light, Ohkura could make out Ryo’s profile. And he knew how close both of them were straddling the edge, but he fisted Ryo’s cock with his hand, watching Ryo throw his head back with that despaired cry of helplessness he had come to hate because it always ignited something in him. Something that tried to gnaw and claw its way out, only to die within him with the faintest of whimpers.


It irked him that Ryo remained an unfathomable mystery to him. It also irked him that although he wanted to turn Ryo inside out, to rummage through all the secrets, he always stopped short of that single essential truth. Maybe it was to prolong the thrill of the chase and the satisfaction when he finally found out what made Ryo tick. Then he could discard Ryo, just like he did with all the ones before him, for a shinier toy, one that offered a bigger challenge.


And as he thrust himself into Ryo, he knew there wasn’t a single ounce of truth, or conviction to be found in that. None at all.