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The rain was unabating.
His body was numb and cold all over, the chill of the storm permeating him bone-deep beneath his skin. Only the throbbing pain of the wound in his left hand still retained a stimulus of heat. Blood seeped out through the broken skin where he'd been cut, still so fresh and vivid on his palm. And yet even that seemed insignificant when pitted against the engulfing force of the rain.
Under the rainfall, the residual smell of all the blood and death and decay that usually plagued this city was obscured. Instead, a brisk, earthy scent scattered itself across the blowing wind, thick and heavy in the air. The rain was washing over everything, cleansing the city. Even the blood that stained the ground in dark trails would fade. All these killings that rotted this city, all those corpses—under the rain they would perish.
Akira hoped he would perish. Let the rain wash him away, too, until traces of neither blood nor body remained in the end.
But the blood from his hand continued to fall, warm and flowing and heavy. Maybe it couldn't be cleansed. His blood—the blood of a murderer who had killed his own friend. There was no salvation for him here.
The storm blurred his vision and pattered loudly. A constant flurry of rain pounded his face. He could hardly keep his eyes open through the assault, his lashes wet and heavy with raindrops. Akira tried to blink them away, but it did little to lift the pressure on his eyelids. Squinting through the rain, he just barely made out the pale face of the man that was carrying him through this downpour.
Shiki's hair was dripping wet. Damp black locks framed his face, yet he looked completely in his element, calm and composed while the storm raged on. Cool red eyes gleamed with untouchable superiority.
The water seemed to slide off him. Drenched in the rain, his figure blended in with the darkness of the city. He appeared like a specter in the night, his skin as pale as death and his eyes as red as blood. And tonight, he was here to deliver Akira condemnation.
He was supposed to be a myth. His name inspired both fear and awe in challengers alike. Whenever there was a sighting of him reported, there were either people running away to escape death at his hand, or those eager to make a name for themselves by proving their strength. His presence and sightings were supposed to be scarce and yet… why did he always show up in front of Akira at the worst times? No matter what, it seemed like Akira could never escape him.
Akira's wounded hand hung limp by his side where blood and rain mixed. His other hand rested against Shiki's chest. Cradled in Shiki's arms, he felt like he was being swallowed up in the man's hold, so weak and powerless and unable to do anything. Shiki wasn't holding him that tightly, but Akira was simply too fatigued to muster up the strength to fight him off anymore.
Akira didn't know where he was being taken. The buildings and alleyways were all merging together, the city starting to look like a maze to him. But Shiki walked on confidently, never pausing or slowing in his steps despite the low visibility in the storm.
In Akira's chest, a heavy weight sank below his ribcage. He knew Keisuke was still there in that alleyway, lying on the ground, lifeless. Another life claimed by Igra. To others, just another casualty counted in the already high number of corpses accumulated in this city. A typical occurrence.
He'd failed. He'd failed to save his friend. And it was all his fault. One chance to make things right, to turn things around between them, and in the end, it had been his own attempt at saving him that had killed him.
It was stupid in hindsight. He'd seen the damage his blood had caused to others. He'd only been clinging onto some thin hope that maybe, things would turn out differently for Keisuke. He'd been banking on faith when he made that split second decision during their fight, and he paid the price for it. Now his friend was dead and there was blood on his hand—warm, thick, dripping—to show for it.
His head was a mess, overflowing with thoughts. Akira tried to fight against these thoughts, these ideas of what-ifs. To push them down, make them sink to the bottom, never to resurface.
He wanted the rain to stop. It was so noisy. But amidst all the noise and racket, called forth in his mind, were Shiki's words.
"From now on, you belong to me."
Akira's breath hitched as he recalled those words. Shiki's voice echoed in his head, deep and powerful over the drone of the rain. They brought a dreadful shiver across his skin, raking down his spine. He was painfully aware of the rain soaking his shirt and how wet his skin was all over. His jacket was drenched and heavy, absorbing the rain.
Shiki had spoken those words as if they were absolute. As if his declaration of ownership could not be refuted.
Akira's hair was soaking wet, weighing heavily on his face. The wind blew hard, sharp enough to scrape his skin with a biting chill. All he could see beyond the volley of rain was those red eyes staring down at him.
The chilling gleam in Shiki's eyes never once wavered in its intensity. Shiki's gaze sunk into him deeper than the rain, as if he could peer into Akira beneath the layer of his skin and see all his hidden depths within. Under those calm, domineering eyes, there was nothing Akira could hide from him; nowhere he could escape to.
Not wanting to withstand the full brunt of Shiki's gaze, Akira closed his eyes, shielding himself away from the sight of those red eyes. But he felt the pressure of Shiki's unrelenting gaze nonetheless. As Shiki carried him to an unknown destination, Akira hoped for the night to end soon.
✝
♱
He was laid down on a bed.
Akira coughed the taste of rainwater out of his mouth. Sprawled across the bed, he lay there, listless, a dull ache spreading throughout his body. In his head was a flurry of unwanted thoughts, all dangerous, none welcoming. He couldn't drown them. Couldn't get rid of them. They would rise up again, returning like a tide inevitably would when the water was pulled too far back.
His vision was soft and hazy, as if his eyes were still veiled by dewy drops of rainfall. Low, white light stained his view. It spilled shadows across the corners of the room, turning faint at his peripheral vision. In the distant back of his mind, he registered the hard pattering of rain against glass.
The mild insulation of being indoors provided a small relief to his body, chasing away the chill on his skin. But Akira still found himself shivering, as though that bodily reaction would help shake the traces of rain and its ghostly touch off him. His shirt was plastered against his skin, sticky and damp, and his jacket weighed heavily across his arms and shoulders. The fur of his hood had been soaked so thoroughly that it felt like a wet mop against his neck.
Slowly sitting up by making use of his forearms, he took in deep breaths, his lungs heavy in his chest. He took a second to glance around. He was in a room, an apartment of sorts, although there was only the bare minimum furnishing this place: a bed, a nightstand, and a few wooden crates. The room was small, reminiscent of his own barren apartment unit that he'd previously lived in when he was still in the CFC.
Shiki stood tall and ominous in front of him, his expression one of unflappable calm. His leather coat was coated in a wet sheen, remnants of rainwater dripping down his damp hair and pale skin, leaving a puddle where he stood. He stared down at Akira, red eyes seething with cold disdain.
Akira glared at him through wet bangs. His breath was unsteady in his throat and he slowly shifted backward closer toward the wall. The bed creaked quietly, his pants rustling against the sheets. The white bed sheet was smeared with a red stain where his bleeding hand was planted.
The tension in the air was thick, accompanied with only the murmur of the rain still pouring outside, tapping against the windows. Drafts of wind rattled the windows, eerily loud over the silence that stretched on in the room between him and Shiki.
Shiki didn't seem like he had any intention of letting him leave this room. He was blocking the line of path between the bed and the door, standing directly at the midpoint. It was as if he'd deliberately chosen to stand there, aware of the psychological effect it would induce for Akira.
His tall figure just barely obscured the view of the door behind him. There wasn't much distance between the door and the bed. If it were anyone else standing there, Akira would have already made a run for it, but he knew there was no chance he was getting past Shiki. Shiki wouldn't give him an opening or even the time to escape.
Pinpricks of tension rose in Akira through the little hairs on his skin.
Shiki's gaze narrowed in pensive calculation. "You…" He took a step toward the bed.
Akira readied himself for a possible attack. The situation was unfavorable for him here. He was sitting on the bed while Shiki was standing. His knife was also missing while Shiki was holding his sword in his hand, the blade well within range of being unsheathed if needed.
Shiki paused after only taking a few steps. Then his expression turned from cool indifference to gleaming interest. "I see. So that's how it is." His voice was low, but every word spoken was like shards of ice pressing into the back of Akira's neck.
Akira's breath went stiff in his throat.
What the fuck was he talking about?
Shiki seemed to find something about this incredibly amusing, though what it was, Akira didn't know. Shiki's lips were curled in that infuriating smirk of his as he stalked toward the bed, eyes alight with dark fascination.
Akira pushed himself against the wall on the bed, trying to create what little distance he could. He shuddered as his back touched cold concrete. "Stay the fuck away from me…"
He didn't care how pathetic he looked or sounded right now; he was getting a dangerous feeling from this man. Shiki had always radiated an aura of unsettling bloodlust during their previous encounters, but right now, the very air surrounding him and the way his eyes seemed to size him up was downright predatory. This wasn't killing intent. This was something else.
Finally, Shiki grabbed his jaw with a crushing grip and forced Akira to meet his face up close.
"You're an omega."
The words hit Akira like a punch to the gut. His blood froze.
How did Shiki know?
He had told no one—no one in Toshima about that. The only one who'd known was Keisuke, and that was because they had known each other since childhood.
The scent blockers Emma had given him had done a good job of disguising him as a beta so far. Shiki had never noticed his real scent until now, so what changed? Unless…
The rain had washed their effects off.
Akira's heart started to race once he realized this. The storm had been particularly bad, drenching him completely. It didn't help that he had an open wound that was still bleeding, either.
Akira gritted his teeth. He didn't confirm Shiki's statement, but Shiki was smiling at him as if he knew he'd hit the right mark. Akira grabbed Shiki's hand and tried to pull it away from his chin. "Let go of me…"
Shiki's eyes narrowed. "Hmph."
The pressure on his jaw lifted—only to give way to a hard blow that knocked into the side of his face, sending his vision crashing in a speedy blur. Pain throbbed in his cheek and jawline. Akira's head hung in the aftershock of the strike.
Weary and breathless, Akira slumped against the wall. He heard Shiki chuckling.
Akira clenched his jaw and peered at Shiki through the wet bangs hanging over his eyes. "…What's so funny," he muttered.
"I didn't think there'd be someone so stupid as to participate in Igra as an omega. How long did you plan on surviving in Toshima without anyone finding out?"
Akira glared at him, indignation flaring up through his body. His jaw was starting to strain from how long he'd been clenching it. Everything this man said was always so grating to hear. He always spoke from a place of assumed superiority. It was that kind of arrogance, the kind where he thought everyone else was beneath him and just a fly in his way, that pissed Akira off the most.
It wasn't like he'd had a choice in any of this. Emma was the one who had briefed him and told him he needed to use scent blockers if he didn't want to become an obvious target in Igra. He'd never bothered to use scent blockers before that. In the CFC, he hadn't cared about hiding that information about himself. Being an omega hadn't affected his standing as the Bl@ster champion.
In Bl@ster, it wasn't about being an omega or an alpha, but about putting up a good fight and proving your strength in front of hundreds of onlookers. The ones who made a name for themselves were the ones who could fight their way to the top; simple as that. It didn't matter that he was an omega if he was better than the rest of them. Anyone who thought otherwise was free to challenge him for his title in a match.
But Igra wasn't Bl@ster. Igra was nothing like it.
Emma's words had rang clear the first day he arrived in Toshima, when he stumbled upon that dilapidated shop just off the main road. If people were willing to resort to violating the corpse of an opponent they'd killed in an Igra match, then there was no doubt there were plenty more of them willing to violate someone who was still alive.
People in Igra weren't just here to kill.
"Who gave you those scent blockers?" Shiki asked, though Akira doubted he actually cared enough to know. "You even managed to fool me. Impressive."
Hearing that kind of backhanded praise from Shiki just made his gut churn, because it was obvious Shiki was still saying it from a position of looking down at him. Akira gritted his teeth. His hand curled into a balled fist, clenching the bed sheet.
"I'm surprised those mad dogs didn't sniff you out immediately. Omegas sell for a very high price on the market."
Mad dogs… was he referring to the Executioners?
"You would have been turned into a slave the moment Arbitro caught wind of you."
Akira swallowed at the mention of slaves. He had seen the other omega, the one that crawled around on all fours, with numerous body modifications on him that had made even Akira's stomach churn. The thought of having his body heavily scarred like that, with all autonomy stripped of him until he was akin to an animal, was disturbing and not a possibility he wanted to think about.
He was lucky that the scent blockers Emma had given him were so effective, throwing even the Executioners and their keen noses off his trail. It was probably because they were military-grade ones. No one had caught on so far, except for that one close call with the slave who often accompanied the Executioners on their patrols to sniff out tags.
But now his luck had run out and his cover was fully blown to Shiki.
"I don't know what an omega like you was hoping to achieve here, but your cover's been blown." Shiki stalked closer to him. "You should be grateful it was me who found you and not Arbitro and his rabid dogs."
Akira wasn't stupid. There was no way Shiki was anything but an alpha. Those other guys doping up on Rein might've been given strength that rivaled an alpha's, but they were still betas in the end. Anyone could tell with one whiff of Shiki's scent that he was a pure-blooded alpha.
Akira was tense, every hair on his skin rising as Shiki came closer. His fingers twitched for a weapon he no longer had. "What are you going to do to me?"
"You're stupider than I thought if you're seriously asking that question." Shiki leaned onto the bed with his knee, cornering Akira against the wall. The springs creaked slightly. He pulled Akira forward by the jaw, their faces coming close. Flinching, Akira looked into the terrifying abyss of red that pooled in Shiki's eyes.
"I'm going to make you mine, omega."
The words were spoken with absolute certainty.
This close to Shiki, Akira could inhale his scent. It was oppressive and constricting, wafting through the air like thick fumes of incense. It was as though the cruel, violent aura that Shiki usually smoldered with was palpable through his scent, except this wasn't bloodlust because Shiki had no intention of killing him. No, this was a different kind of desire.
He felt Shiki's other hand roaming over his torso, pulling his wet shirt up over his chest. The heady aroma that was filling the air immobilized Akira for a moment, his nerves disconnecting from his mind. He let his weight settle against the bed. But then the cool touch of a leather glove snapped Akira back to awareness. His eyes widened in horror at his own compliance with Shiki's actions. He slapped Shiki's hand away and aimed a kick at him.
"Get off me!"
Akira was hardly given time to react before Shiki seized him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. He squeezed Akira's neck.
"Still resisting even though I'm giving off my scent? Interesting." Shiki's voice was low in his ear. The tone of his voice was downright intoxicating alongside his scent. "But it's only a matter of time before your body succumbs to me."
Akira scrambled to grab Shiki's hand as it tightened around his windpipe, nearly crushing it. His vision went dull, the orb of the ceiling light growing fuzzy at the rim. Its glow wreathed around Shiki's hair like a halo, making all the dark edges of his outline appear deceptively soft in the faint, pale light.
Shiki released his throat and Akira coughed. It hurt to breathe when he inhaled a lungful of air, clarity flooding back to him. He slumped against the wall, reaching up to touch his throat and soothe it.
Shiki was already on him again, his hands trailing over Akira's body. His fingers skimmed across Akira's skin as if the plane of Akira's body were an instrument and he was looking for the right notes to produce the sounds he wanted from Akira's mouth. Then Akira felt fingers pinching his nipple in a sharp tug, and a gasp left him, too quick and involuntary for him to realize until his mouth had already made the sound.
Shiki looked at him with a mocking smile, the pad of his thumb rubbing against Akira's nipple. "How does that feel?"
"Fuck you," he rasped out with as much vitriol he could muster in his voice. That was how he felt.
Shiki only seemed to get more amused. The response didn't deter Shiki at all, his hands roaming across Akira's torso. Akira clenched his teeth, shivering under his touch. He blamed his reaction on the cool glide of Shiki's gloves. His body had already been numbed cold from the rain, but the graze of Shiki's fingers on his skin seemed to amplify that sensation.
Shiki's hands moved like they were exploring and mapping out the bones beneath Akira's skin which held him all together. They ran down Akira's sides, caressing his waist. Akira exhaled when he felt Shiki's hands grip his waist, holding him like he could break him in half right there.
Shiki chuckled softly, leaning in. His head blocked out the ceiling light in Akira's view. Now that he was even closer, the threat of his intentions was palpable through his scent.
The intense aroma emanating from Shiki masked the stale air in the barren room. Akira struggled as he breathed it in, unable to stop his own reflex. Shiki's scent attacked him right in the nerves. Amidst the smell that was so distinctly indicative of an alpha, he could pinpoint the trace of a mild, earthy fragrance that made his skin tingle with heat.
For a moment, his mind was so muddled that he didn't even take notice of Shiki's hands creeping toward his chest.
Akira jerked as the pads of Shiki's thumbs rubbed over his nipples in circles. The touch was slow and teasing. Akira could feel them being rolled around, a strange, featherlight sensation curling where Shiki was touching him. Akira shivered, his nipples turning stiff, and he started to feel warm in his gut.
Shiki was watching him, watching his every reaction. Akira's breaths turned sluggish and he closed his eyes, his mind feeling like it was being clouded by a haze. He bit down on whatever noise that threatened to leave his mouth. He didn't know why he was feeling so sensitive. Was it because Shiki was looking at him so intently? Or… was it the effect of an alpha's scent that was making him this way?
…It had to be. His body had never been so reactive before.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw Shiki looking at him with a knowing smirk. Akira's breath was unsteady. Shiki's hand trailed down from his chest to the belt looped around his pants.
Akira tried to push Shiki's hands away. "Stop it…" His heart raced in his chest. This wasn't happening.
Shiki made a derisive sound. "You don't mean that."
Akira was taken aback when Shiki suddenly leaned in, his hand reaching behind Akira's neck. He was close, dangerously close. Shiki's hand cupped his nape, and a chill slid down Akira's spine. His fingers were like ice on Akira's skin.
Shiki's face hovered over his neck, and he inhaled Akira's scent. Akira froze, his blood turning cold at the unexpected proximity in spite of the heat flaring up on his skin.
His reaction time was far too slow right now; he would've never let his guard down enough to let someone slip into his space so easily, but it was like Shiki could break down every preconceived notion he'd ever had in his life. Akira had never met a man so infuriating yet terrifying. Everything this man did, everything he said, was maddening. Shiki was able to make him feel weak and powerless in ways he'd never thought was possible.
"I can smell how needy you are," Shiki murmured, with all the authority in his tone like he was stating an irrefutable fact. He curled his hand around Akira's nape, gloved fingers sticking to his skin. "Your body is saying it wants this." His breath tickled Akira's neck. Akira suppressed the shudder that threatened to ripple through his skin. "And this"—he tugged at Akira's pants—"is proof."
Akira's whole body went rigid. Shiki's eyes gleamed with superiority at the confirmation of his own words. Akira was already half-hard—there was no denying that. Filled with shame, a prickly heat flared up on his skin.
Shiki's hand wrapped around his cock and Akira's breath hitched, his gut feeling hot. His shirt was uncomfortably sticky against his skin and he leaned his back against the wall, trying to keep his mouth shut. He couldn't let Shiki provoke him like this. And yet as Shiki's hand squeezed and stroked his cock, a moan escaped his throat, low but audible. The sound of his voice, so strangely soft and unfamiliar to his own ears, made his skin burn hotter. His cock hardened in Shiki's hand, heat pooling in his groin.
Shiki's hand was rough, yet the friction of his hand surrounding Akira's cock brought warm pleasure across Akira's body. Akira panted. Shiki's hand was squeezing and stroking him in ways that made his cock twitch with a hot ache. He pumped Akira hard enough that pre-cum started to leak from his cock.
Shiki's other hand was on his knee, holding it firmly and tipping it outward so that Akira was even more exposed than before. Akira wanted to close his legs, but another part of him, contrary to his rational state of mind, wanted to feel more of Shiki's touch; to buck his hips into that rough hand and feel the heat gliding against his cock.
He didn't know what was happening to him anymore.
Hearing the sound of his own heavy, labored breaths filling the room, Akira's ears grew warm. There was another distinctive sound making itself known, too: the smooth, slick sound of Shiki's hand pumping him. Shiki's hand slathered pre-cum all over the length of his cock. He jerked him hard and fast, dragging heat along his shaft.
Akira bit his lip, feeling a moan threatening to spill. His gut churned with heat. The sound of the strokes were getting wetter and faster. That, in turn, somehow made his cock throb harder. He wanted to shut his ears away from those slick sounds. They were sounds that arose solely from his cock being pleasured while it was at the complete mercy of Shiki's hand. He couldn't believe the way his own body was reacting. He was so hard and wet.
Akira looked down at the way his own cock was twitching and leaking. Shiki's hand enveloped him, and Akira could see how swollen his cock really was. He wanted to look away but couldn't. Instead, his gaze lingered on the motion of Shiki's hand dragging up and down his shaft. Every time Shiki squeezed him, the veins on his cock looked even more prominent.
Akira couldn't stop his knees from tipping outward. He felt so exposed, but the shame of this position was overridden by his need to thrust toward Shiki's hand. He moved into it with his whole body, his abdomen clenching and his legs straining to keep steady. Warmth spread across his stomach, the sensation growing more overwhelming with every roll of his hips. He moaned softly, his cock throbbing with an intense ache.
Shiki's gaze was oppressive and hot on his skin. It was tangible all over, making Akira's skin prickle with feverish heat. The smile on Shiki's face only deepened when he saw Akira's desperation, and his hand worked at Akira's cock faster. The bed creaked when Shiki leaned closer to him. Each breath Akira took was strained, his back pressed to the wall. Shiki was hovering over him on the bed, watching intently with a dark glint to his eyes.
Akira trembled under that powerful gaze. His cock twitched in spite of the shame he felt from being watched like this. Or maybe it was his shame that was making his body react this way. Realizing Shiki's gaze on him had made him melt into the motions even more, his hips grinding faster into the man's hand.
His body felt hot and his head was hazy. Shiki was toying with him; he knew it, but he couldn't stop now. His body wouldn't be able to handle it. It was aching for relief and his hips couldn't stop moving, the sounds of his ragged breaths and Shiki's hand around his cock getting louder. He could smell the scent of sex diffusing into the air, leaking from his own cock. It mixed in with Shiki's scent. Akira gasped, his senses overloading with Shiki.
Shiki used his other hand to circle a finger around Akira's nipple. That sole touch brought tingles across Akira's flushed skin. The trail of Shiki's finger became imprinted in Akira's mind. Heat rushed through his blood.
Shiki leaned in close, his breath ghosting Akira's ear. "Just submit and this will be easier for you." His voice was low, the words sounding powerful.
Akira wanted to protest, to scream in Shiki's face that he wasn't going to obey, but he couldn't work his mouth around the words. Instead his lips trembled futilely, his throat letting out half gasps and half moans to the rhythm of Shiki's hand around his cock and the sensation of Shiki's lips on his ear. He lifted a hand to Shiki's shoulder, intending to push him away. But the intention was lost as soon as Akira grabbed him. Instead he held onto Shiki's shoulder, clinging to the man as he shamelessly fucked Shiki's hand, his cock straining for relief and somehow finding it in Shiki's touch.
Akira was mortified at his own body's reactions and the insanity of all this, but he couldn't think properly, his thoughts scattered between shame and pleasure. He wanted to reject this. To cling to some semblance of pride. But his mind was telling him that this was what he was seeking; what he needed. An alpha's touch…
Shiki started to nibble on his ear and Akira's spine tingled. He felt the graze of Shiki's teeth on his skin, the lick of his tongue. The ghostly sensation trailed down his jawline and to his neck, where Shiki's breath hovered there. A tongue slid up his jugular.
Akira closed his eyes and whimpered. All of a sudden, the taut ache that had been coiling in his body was melting into pleasure, hot cum gushing from his pulsing cock.
Akira moaned, each subsequent spasm in his cock feeling stronger than the last, as if the ache was still building even now but being relieved at the same time, pleasure twisting in his abdomen. He'd never experienced it like this before. It was so intense, the sensation buried so deep in his stomach. His legs were shaking, and his hips were tense. Akira bucked his hips through it as he came all over himself, coating his own abdomen with thick, white seed. His cock was a hot, throbbing mess.
Akira lowered his head, the back of his neck feeling excessively warm. His skin was flushed and he was sweating hard. He took in labored breaths, the heat in his abdomen slowly dissipating. Shiki's hand lifted off his cock and Akira sagged against the bed, the tension in his limbs slipping away.
Akira lay there breathless, his abdomen slightly sore from how hard he'd been clenching it. The stillness of his drained cock was punctuated by small spasms. His muscles were weary, fatigue clouding behind his eyes.
Eventually his ears stopped ringing in his head and he could hear the sound of his own breaths and taste the air in his dry throat. With his clarity regained, a sludge of disgust stirred in the pit of his stomach. His skin crawled with something nebulous and he wanted to curl in on himself. The sweat sticking to his skin felt more like mud.
He couldn't believe himself and what had become of him. He was… like an animal.
A strong hand pulled his chin forward, and then Shiki was right there in his face. Akira's eyes widened at the sly fascination that gleamed across Shiki's expression.
"You came this much just from that?" Shiki cooed. "You must have a really desperate body."
Akira shuddered, his jaw tensing. He wanted to deny those words, but his voice was caught in his throat. Shiki was so close to him that every breath he took practically filled him with a heavy dose of the man's scent. There was something overwhelming about Shiki's aroma that smothered all of Akira's senses and sent his thoughts astray.
It demanded utter submission.
He couldn't think about anything else.
Shiki chuckled, lowering his hand from Akira's chin. He removed his gloves, throwing them aside. Then there was the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled. Akira flinched. His breath shifted when he saw Shiki's cock.
…Shiki was hard. Akira hadn't expected that.
Hanging out through the hole of his pants, Shiki's cock stood so stiff and upright and looked swollen. Akira could feel the weight of it just by looking at it. The veins running down the shaft were thick, and the head of his cock was flushed a deep color, glistening with dewy slick that dripped down the slit.
A pale hand seized his leg. Shiki leaned in, a predatory smile at his lips.
Akira's heart started to pound in trepidation. He mustered up his voice. "Let me go…"
"Do you really think I'd do that? I told you already," Shiki's hand trailed up Akira's thigh, pushing it outward, "I'm going to make you mine." His voice was breathy in Akira's ear, a trace of hot arousal imbuing his otherwise composed tone.
The head of Shiki's cock pressed against him and Akira tensed at the sudden heat. He could feel how hard and hot Shiki was, probing against him like this. Akira started to tremble, a combination of heat and dread pooling in his stomach once more.
He grunted when Shiki forced his cock into him, the head of it just pushing in. Akira panted, his muscles tensing from the pressure. Slowly, Shiki inched deeper into him. Lifting Akira's leg, he hooked it over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around it, his cock sinking even deeper at this angle.
"Is this your first time taking an alpha?" Shiki murmured. "You're tighter than I thought you'd be."
Akira squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back. His chest was constricted. He couldn't breathe; not when his body was tensing around the slow but intense stretch of Shiki's cock forcing itself into him.
"So, I'm your first. That explains why you haven't been marked yet. It'll be easier for me to train you, then."
He felt the burn of Shiki's cock stretching him open as it continued to slide in. The pressure was unrelenting—he couldn't tell how much of Shiki's cock was already inside him, and how much there was still left to go.
Shiki's arm around his leg tightened. He pushed Akira's leg back even more, deepening the angle at which he was sinking into him with his cock.
"I'll show you what it's like to mate with an alpha."
Shiki pushed his cock in all the way, his hips coming to meet against Akira's.
Akira arched his back and gasped, his whole body going tense in Shiki's hands. His body was telling him he couldn't take it, firing off signals in his very nerves that he was going to break. The angle was too deep, and the stretch was too much. His mind was ablaze, pain tearing at every vein in his body.
Breaking… he—he was going to break.
He tried to breathe through the sensation of his body being forced open like this, but Shiki was already starting to move. He thrust inside of Akira, finding a steady pace. It was like he was trying to keep Akira stretched wide open, unwilling to give his body any respite. The bed creaked each time Shiki rocked into him, filling him entirely with his cock.
Akira's skin flushed. The burning pressure of Shiki's cock in him was still rough on his body and yet… he was starting to get hard again. There was heat stirring in his stomach, and before long, his grunts started to mellow out into soft gasps and moans. His aroused cock became stiff enough to bounce against his stomach whenever Shiki thrust into him.
Akira shut his eyes and turned his head away. He didn't want to look. He didn't want to see his body reacting this way, against his own will.
He felt a sharp tug on his chin. Shiki's hand was gripping his jaw, and Akira instinctively opened his eyes, feeling the weight of Shiki's gaze on his skin.
Shiki's face was closer than he realized, close enough that he could feel Shiki's breaths on his lips. They were unexpectedly warm and soft. The proximity terrified him. He was going to get swallowed up by insanity if he looked any longer into those red eyes.
Akira inhaled, catching a whiff of Shiki's scent. It enveloped his senses, and Akira felt the tension in his limbs loosening, if only a little. He didn't know why but… smelling Shiki made his head feel lighter. He lifted his face closer to Shiki's neck, breathing in more of that heady aroma of his.
Akira grabbed the back of Shiki's hair, whimpering. His whole body felt hot and he arched his back as if he was trying to get out of his own feverish skin. His cock twitched with need and he reached down to pump himself. Pre-cum dripped from the slit of his cock, pooling over his stomach.
He heard Shiki's laugh, low and soft in his ear. "You're finally easing into it."
Akira's breath hitched, his cock stiffening further at the sound of Shiki's voice. He pumped himself faster with his hand while Shiki plowed into him with his raw, leaking cock. Shiki grabbed his other leg and lifted it up. Holding both of Akira's legs and tilting them back, he shifted his weight onto him, fucking into him deeper and rougher.
Akira gasped for air. Drool started to leak down his lips. Looking down, he could see the entirety of Shiki's cock being swallowed up by him with every thrust. Shiki's cock was thick and veiny and swollen, barely fitting in through the hole of his pants anymore. Akira's heart pounded in his chest, blood rushing to his head and ears. He was… taking all of that in.
He could hear the grunts in Shiki's breathing and see the slight furrow to his brow. Shiki's grip on his legs tightened, and he pushed Akira's legs back even more. It was as if Shiki was trying to bury himself as deep into him as possible. Akira's legs shook under the strain of being held up like this, but he found himself trying to spread himself even wider, his cock twitching.
He heard Shiki's breathy chuckle above him. "You're so wet."
Akira moaned softly. Shiki's cock throbbed inside of him. He felt and heard it sliding in and out of him with ease. It was only now that Akira realized how wet he was, warm slick leaking out of him and getting all over Shiki's cock. He could hear the sloppy sounds of Shiki plunging into him; could hear the sounds of his tight balls slapping against him. Shiki fucked into him with wet, slippery thrusts, his swollen cock coated in a sheen of clear slick.
Akira could hardly breathe. The air in his lungs wasn't enough. Saliva pooled in his open mouth. His hole was clenching and sucking Shiki in, as though his body understood even when Akira himself didn't. And Shiki's body, in turn, understood, thrusting into him like he was concentrated solely on fucking his needy hole.
Akira could feel the tension everywhere in him, his body barely able to handle the strain of Shiki's hold on him. Reaching behind Shiki's head, Akira grabbed him by the back of his hair and pulled him down. He buried his face in Shiki's neck, breathing harshly. His head was hot and he couldn't think. Clinging to Shiki was all he could do. Akira didn't want to admit it, but… he was aching for the alpha.
It was all Shiki's fault. It was because of him that he was like this. Because of Shiki…
It took him a moment to realize those were his own needy moans filling the room. He hooked his legs around Shiki's waist, his arms clinging to the man's back. The heavy scent of sex hanging in the air made his vision unfocus. He could smell how turned on their bodies were, how slick and needy for Shiki he was. Akira's cock ached as he listened to the raw and breathy sounds of their mating.
Shiki's hands were suddenly in his hair, gripping and tugging. Akira felt the pull on his scalp. Their foreheads touched and Shiki's face was close enough that the only air Akira could breathe was from Shiki's breaths. There was too much heat between their skin. Everything was a frenzy. He searched for something, anything to hold onto, and grabbed Shiki's hair, burying his fingers into jet black locks.
Those eyes…
The force of Shiki's gaze bore down on him, searing onto Akira's skin. It was like he could reach in and gouge Akira apart from inside out with his eyes alone.
Akira felt his stomach clenching, heat throbbing in his cock. There was more purpose behind Shiki's thrusts now. Akira could feel it in the sudden, rapid force of his hips; could hear it in the way Shiki breathed out heavily with each thrust. His cock stiffened in Akira's hole, hot and eager.
The heat of Shiki's cock, the hands on his skin, those eyes he couldn't escape… Akira's head lolled back and he moaned, his vision going blurry. Before he knew it, he was coming, hot spurts spilling from his cock. His back arched and he came all over himself.
Shiki was coming, too. His cock spasmed inside of Akira, feeling impossibly thick and hard. Shiki's hot seed filled him, and Akira trembled, his hole involuntarily clenching around him.
Then there was a sharp pain in his neck that made Akira gasp. Shiki was biting and sucking on his neck. It burned where Shiki's teeth marked him, sinking into his skin. Akira closed his eyes, trying to breathe through it, pain and pleasure pulling from both sides.
Eventually Shiki's mouth lifted from his neck and Akira could breathe again. The imprinted mark was still hot on his skin, and Akira squirmed when Shiki licked it. It was as though his very flesh had been burned.
"This is proof," Shiki said.
Proof…?
The words washed over him. Akira opened his eyes to see Shiki smiling down at him.
"You're mine now." Shiki caressed his face with both hands. His red eyes pierced through the cloud of Akira's fading consciousness. They were all Akira could see, all he could recognize in this haze. "All of you, everything you are… it all belongs to me."
Those words should have made Akira retaliate; to reject that imposing declaration, but instead he found himself drifting away. Shiki's voice slipped into his mind, sliding over his thoughts like soothing water. He closed his eyes, exhausted.
Shiki chuckled and pulled him in close. "Mine," he whispered.
Akira inhaled, feeling Shiki's warmth enveloping him. Shiki's scent bloomed all over him, and his nerves relaxed. He let himself succumb to his fatigue.
Shiki's fingers sifted through his hair, and the last thing he felt were soft lips pressing kisses along his jaw and ear.