Work Text:
The Salesman had always enjoyed the game before the game. The moments leading up to the offer to join the Squid Games, when desperation hung thick in the air, were his favorite part of the job. These were the moments when he saw people for what they truly were: raw, fractured, and willing to do anything to escape the hole they were in. He lived for the tension, for the moment when their eyes shifted from skepticism to temptation, when their hands trembled over the red and blue cards he presented.
Tonight was no different. He had spent the evening in a seedy alley behind a decrepit bar, slapping a wiry man who reeked of cheap liquor and desperation. The echo of flesh meeting flesh was satisfying, punctuated by the man’s yelps of humiliation. But the thrill had faded too quickly, and as the man scrambled away, the Salesman found himself bored, restless. He had already recruited two new players today, and the night still stretched ahead of him like an empty canvas.
He was passing by an alley when he heard it: the wet, rhythmic sound of a blade cutting through flesh. A muffled scream. The clatter of something heavy hitting the ground. Intrigued, the Salesman followed the sound, stepping carefully over the litter-strewn path until he came to the source.
The alley was dimly lit, a single flickering bulb casting jagged shadows against the brick walls. At the center of it stood a figure–tall, lean, and wrapped in a tailored black suit, the neckline deep enough to give the Salesman a glimpse of a chest tattoo that contrasted sharply against pale flesh. The figure moved with a fluid grace, a knife glinting in one hand, his other hand steadying the limp body of a man he was in the process of flaying. The air reeked of iron as blood slicked the ground beneath the other’s feet, pooling around expensive shoes that somehow remained pristine.
Each movement was calculated, precise, as though the figure had rehearsed this a thousand times. The faint glow of intricate neck tattoos caught the light as he tilted his head in quiet consideration of his work.
The Salesman was captivated.
And then the figure turned, sharp eyes locking onto the Salesman’s.
“Who the hell are you?” the figure demanded, his voice low and steady with a bit of an accent, possibly Japanese, and the undercurrent of menace sent a thrill down the Salesman’s spine.
The Salesman smiled, the kind of smile that had disarmed countless desperate fools before. “Just passing through,” he said smoothly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t mean to interrupt…”
Unfortunately for him, the other man was no fool. The man’s gaze narrowed, and the Salesman saw the flicker of a decision being made. In a single, fluid motion, the figure lunged at him, the knife slicing through the air with lethal precision. The Salesman barely had time to dodge, the blade grazing his cheek as he ducked and rolled to the side, grimacing at the polluted puddles of the alleyway floor soaking his suit.
“Feisty,” he murmured, straightening up and wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand.
The other didn’t respond. He advanced again, his movements faster this time, almost too fast to follow. The Salesman’s heart raced–not with fear, but with something far more primal. Each strike, each calculated attack, was a testament to the man’s skill, his control. Despite the danger he was in, the Salesman couldn’t keep his own grin from widening, even as he narrowly avoided having his chest sliced open again.
When the man decided that slicing with the knife was too inefficient, he landed a kick to the Salesman’s chest, sending him sprawling against the alley wall. The Salesman found himself momentarily winded, but as he caught his breath, he realized something: he wasn’t just exhilarated by the fight. His pants were getting tighter, his breathing getting harder. He was aroused.
The man noticed it too. He hesitated, his knife still raised and ready, his sharp eyes flickering down to the telltale bulge in the Salesman’s pants. His expression shifted–confusion, disgust, and maybe even curiosity flitting across his face in quick succession. It was enough of a pause for the Salesman to act.
With a sudden burst of movement, he surged forward, grabbing the man’s wrist and twisting it just enough to disarm him. In the next second, he had kicked the lethal weapon harshly, sending deep into the dark depths of the alleyway, and he had the man pinned against the wall, forearm against the other’s neck and their faces inches apart. The man snarled, snapping his teeth like a feral animal, his eyes blazing with fury. The Salesman only laughed, low and breathless, which only fueled the fire in the other’s eyes.
“What’s your name?” the Salesman asked, his voice a husky whisper.
The man glared at him, silent and seething. The Salesman’s grip tightened, it was a wonder how such a violent man had such a delicate-feeling wrist, and the Salesman couldn’t help tightening his grip as he pressed his body closer, reveling in the way the man tensed beneath him.
“Come on,” the Salesman coaxed, his lips making an attempt of a coaxing smile but instead looked like an insane grin, the lighting creating deep shadows on his face and a sharp glint in his eyes.
“At least give me that much before I let you go.”
The man’s lips parted, a single word slipping out like a blade: “Ray.”
The Salesman’s smile widened. “Ray,” he repeated, savoring the name, short but sweet. “I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”
Ray snarled again and thrashed his arm, demanding to be let go again, but the Salesman only chuckled, his grip firm and his interest piqued in a way it hadn’t been in years.
Well, he had the other pinned down at the moment, might as well take what he can get.
The Salesman ground his hips forward, relishing the way Ray’s breath hitched. For a moment, those fierce eyes widened in shock at his perverted audacity before narrowing again, teeth bared in a talented imitation of a snarling tiger.
But the Salesman could feel the subtle shift in Ray’s body, the almost imperceptible lean into his touch. Oh, maybe this sudden madness wasn’t just affecting him.
“Get off me,” Ray hissed again, but there was a tremor in his voice that betrayed him.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” the Salesman purred, persistent from the openings he’s finding, and leaning in close enough that his lips brushed Ray’s ear. The Salesman noted the full-body tremor wreaked through the other’s body from his hot breath brushing the other’s ears. Sensitive, the Salesman grinned, and then suddenly, something cold was pressing against his neck–a small knife that Ray had hidden somewhere, held firmly against his carotid with the one hand that the Salesman was not holding against the wall.
The Salesman can see another threat on the tip of Ray’s tongue, but it was cut off by a sharp gasp as the Salesman rolled his hips again, more deliberately this time, a touch of desperation too. He couldn’t help it–having the knife against his neck added an element of danger that made him so hot. The Salesman could feel Ray’s heart racing, could see the flush creeping up his neck, staining the intricate tattoos there, as the knife slightly broke through skin, but not enough to do any damage that could actually kill him, not yet.
Ray’s eyes flashed dangerously, and in a sudden move, he surged forward, slamming his forehead into the Salesman’s nose. The Salesman stumbled back, momentarily stunned, blood trickling down his face as he held his tender nose.
But instead of anger, a thrill of excitement shot through him. The Salesman laughed, the sound echoing off the alley walls.
Ray stood there, chest heaving, his eyes wild and searching for an escape. But the Salesman was quicker this time, recovering swiftly from the blow to lunge forward, pinning Ray against the wall once more, this time with both hands gripping Ray’s thin fucking wrists above his head and causing him to drop his tiny (but deadly, he was sure) knife.
“Nice try,” the Salesman breathed, his face inches from Rays, “but I’m not that easy to shake off.”
Ray writhed against him, snarling and snapping, now completely trapped under his hands as the Salesman held firm. He could feel the heat radiating off Ray’s body, could smell the intoxicating mix of blood, sweat, and something uniquely Ray. Something violent, something the Salesman craves.
“You know, I think you could have easily killed me by now if you really wanted to,” the Salesman started, like they were having a conversation in a store choosing between milk brands instead of in an alley, bloody, breathless, and bodies thrumming with violence and, at least for the Salesman, blood-boiling arousal. It didn’t help that the other’s squirming stimulated his cock so well.
“But you haven’t yet. I wonder why?”
A shudder ran through Ray’s body, almost imperceptible, but the Salesman felt it, as surely as Ray must have felt the hardness against him. The Salesman pulled back slightly, drinking in the sight of Ray’s flushed face, the way his chest heaved with each breath.
“You’re disgusting,” Ray spat, but there was less venom in his voice now, replaced by something raw and uncertain. It made his Japanese accent adorably stronger.
The Salesman chuckled, low and dark. “Maybe. But I think you like it.”
In one fluid method, he disoriented Ray by releasing the other’s wrists and stepping back, giving him space and leaving the other open, looking like a butterfly pinned to the wall as he stood frozen. The move was counterintuitive from the amount of physical effort it took to keep Ray there, but the Salesman wanted to do a little test. Just to see what this fiery hellcat would do when given a choice. He did so long to see how others tick, and he really wanted to see what Ray would do if left to make the decisions in this encounter, especially with him being so verbal about not wanting any of this but obviously being interested in where this was going… well, he was either going to kill the Salesman or fuck him, and the Salesman would be honored either way.
Ray stood there, chest heaving, eyes wide with a mix of fury and confusion. For a moment, neither of them moved, the tension thick in the air between them.
The Salesman’s grin never faltered as he watched Raym drinking in every detail, clinically observing the other’s indecisiveness–the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, the slight tremble in his lean frame, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He could see the internal struggle playing out across Ray’s face, desire warring with distrust, curiosity with caution. But tellingly, he didn’t go for the knife that he dropped to the ground, and that made the Salesman all the more confident.
“What’s the matter, Ray?” the Salesman purred, smugly stooping forward to cheekily look into the eyes of the other. “Cat got your tongue?”
Ray’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the taunt. In a flash, he lunged forward, grabbing the Salesman by the lapels of his suit and slamming him against the opposite wall. The impact knocked the breath from the Salesman’s lungs, but he couldn’t suppress the thrill that shot through him at Ray’s sudden aggression.
“You think this is a game?” Ray hissed, his face inches from the Salesman’s. The scent of blood and the adrenaline shooting through his veins intoxicated the Salesman’s mind, almost making him dizzy, and with the way that most of his blood was pooling south, he was getting a bit light-headed. It made him feel like he was high, like he was floating but anchored down by the arousal gripping his very soul. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this desperately turned on in his life.
The Salesman’s grin widened. “Everything’s a game, Ray,” he purred, not bothering to struggle against Ray’s grip, “and I must say, I’m thoroughly enjoying this one.”
Ray’s grip tightened on the Salesman’s lapels, his knuckles turning white with the force of it. The Salesman could feel the tremor in Ray’s hands, the barely contained violence thrumming through his lean frame.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Ray growled, his voice low and grave. “I’ve killed men for less.”
The Salesman’s eyes glittered with excitement. “I’m still breathing, though,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to Ray’s lips before meeting his eyes again. “I wonder why that is?”
Ray’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. Another series of emotions fluttered through dark eyes, showing the Salesman the other’s internal struggle–the desire to end this, to silence the Salesman permanently, warring with something else, something Ray seemed reluctant to acknowledge.
Taking advantage of Ray’s moment of hesitation, the Salesman slowly raised his hand, letting his fingers ghost along Ray’s jawline. Ray flinched at the touch but didn’t pull away, his eyes widening slightly.
“I think it’s because you like me,” The Salesman said, kicking up his charm with a slow grin. “Or at least, you like what you see.”
Ray’s eyes flashed with steely indignation at the Salesman’s words, but he didn’t pull away.
Promising, the Salesman thought. So glad that my uniform makes me look hot enough to make a killer hesitate to kill me.
Ray’s grip on the Salesman's lapels tightened, almost trembling with tension. It seemed that he was waiting for something, not deigning to spark whatever was going on between them. The Salesman took the risk and shifted his hips forward.
Ray's breath hitched as the Salesman's arousal pressed against him. For a moment, he seemed frozen, caught between wrath and desire. Then, with a tsk and a decisive glint in his eyes, Ray crashed his lips against the Salesman's in a bruising kiss.
The Salesman responded eagerly, one hand tangling in Ray's hair while the other gripped his hip, pulling him closer. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, violent and desperate. Ray bit down hard on the Salesman's lower lip, drawing blood, but the Salesman only groaned in pleasure, his excitement building when the other man sucked harshly on the cut, avidly tasting his blood. He swirled his tongue around the cut to make it leak more iron, causing the Salesman to let out a broken moan, pain mixing with the pleasurable stimulation of that clever tongue.
"That's it," the Salesman purred when they finally broke apart, both panting heavily. "Let it out, Ray. Show me what you really want."
Ray's eyes were wild, dark pupils blown wide with a mix of arousal. "You're playing with fire," Ray growled, his free hand trailing down the Salesman's side, coming to rest on his hip. "I could tear you apart."
The Salesman's lips curled into a wicked grin. "Promise?" he purred, arching into Ray's touch.
Ray's hands were everywhere, exploring the Salesman's body with a mix of violence and desperate need. He tore at the Salesman's expensive suit, buttons scattering across the alley floor as he exposed the flushed skin beneath. The Salesman reveled in Ray's frenzy, drinking in every touch, every bruising grip. As Ray's lips trailed down the Salesman's neck, leaving a trail of bites and bruises, the Salesman's hands roamed over Ray's lithe body. He marveled at the contrast–the undeniably masculine strength in Ray's arms and shoulders, the lean muscles of his torso, yet there was a subtle softness to his hips, and his waist was so thin it was practically meant to be grabbed.
Unable to deny himself, the Salesman used his free hands to grab at the other’s waist and he groaned at how fucking tiny it was. He couldn’t help but give it a harsh squeeze in his excitement, giving in to the aggression gripping his bones at how wispy the other’s waist was, creating an urge to crush him in his hands. His hands will surely leave bruises, adding to the Salesman’s satisfaction.
Ray's teeth sank into the junction of the Salesman's neck and shoulder, eliciting a sharp gasp of pleasure-pain. The Salesman's hips bucked involuntarily, grinding against Ray's thigh.
You're insane," Ray breathed against the Salesman's skin, his voice deliciously deep and raspy. "Completely fucking insane.”
The Salesman laughed, breathless and wild, as he thought about his entire life and the work he did. "Oh, you have no idea," he purred, his hand sliding down to cup Ray through his pants.
Ray's breath hitched, his body tensing as the Salesman paused. At first, the Salesman was worried that maybe the other wasn’t enjoying himself as much as he thought. But then, he realized that instead of the expected solid and turgid organ, there was a noticeable wetness seeping through designer slacks and a throbbing heat that rivaled the feeling of putting his hand in a furnace.
The Salesman’s eyes snapped to Ray’s, wonder and a hint of insane reverence making an ominous gleam in his eyes.
Interesting. So very interesting.
Ray's breath caught in his throat, body going rigid, when the Salesman experimentally flexed his hand against his core. The Salesman's hand remained where it was, feeling the heat and exploring the dampness through the fabric, fingers slowly tracing the covered slit.
"Well," the Salesman purred, a giddy, wicked grin spreading across his face. "Isn't this interesting?"
Ray's eyes flashed dangerously. In a blur of movement, he grabbed the Salesman's wrist, twisting it away from his body. "Don't," he snarled, voice low and deadly.
Ray's grip on the Salesman's wrist tightened painfully, but the Salesman didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Ray's ear. Goosebumps rose over the other’s skin as his breath brushed against his pierced ear lobes. Sensitive, the Salesman thought, giddy at the new knowledge and fully intending to take as much advantage of it as possible.
"I wonder," the Salesman whispered, “just how many more surprises you’re hiding." His free hand sliding up Ray's thigh before taking his hip in an iron grip in an attempt to prevent the other from squirming away.
Ray's breath hitched, his body trembling with a mix of rage and something else–something he seemed desperate to deny, as the Salesman rubbed his palm against his clothed clit, the fabric creating extra friction. "I'll kill you," he hissed, but the threat lacked conviction, the rising tide of pleasure getting to him.
The Salesman chuckled darkly. "I’ll count on it," he murmured, nipping at Ray's earlobe. Despite the danger, or perhaps because of it, the Salesman pulled the other close by his hip, pressing their bodies together, reveling in the heat radiating between them and the feeling of Ray’s heart beating at the speed of a rabbit’s. He cupped Ray’s cunt more harshly, fingers digging in through the cloth, practically trying to stab a hole through to press his fingers against the hidden hole, and his palm applying borderline too much pressure to his throbbing clit, so much so that Ray was pushed up to his toes.
Ray's head fell forward, resting his forehead on the Salesman’s shoulder as a strangled moan escaped his lips at the force against his increasingly sensitive core. The Salesman took advantage of the exposed neck, latching onto the sensitive skin with teeth and tongue. He sucked hard, determined to leave a mark. The Salesman was immensely satisfied and turned at the amount of heat and wetness seeping through the fabric, evidence of Ray's arousal. Ray's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with barely contained desire. The Salesman reveled in it, in the power he held over someone so lethal and beautiful.
"You’re taking too long," Ray gasped, but his hands clutched at the Salesman's shoulders, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away. The Salesman chuckled against Ray's neck, pleasantly surprised at the other’s complaint as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin.
"Oh? I’m sorry about that," he croaked, so fucking turned on, as his fingers deftly undid Ray's belt, slipping inside his pants. Ray let out a strangled gasp as the Salesman's hand made contact with his heated flesh. The wetness coating his fingers only fueled the Salesman's arousal further.
"So wet for me already,"the Salesman purred, nipping at Ray's earlobe, revelling in the full-body shiver.
Ray snarled, his hands fisting in the Salesman's shirt. "Shut up," he hissed, but his hips rolled against the Salesman's hand, seeking more friction.
The Salesman chuckled darkly, his fingers exploring Ray's slick folds. He found Ray's clit, swollen and throbbing, and circled it teasingly. Ray's whole body shuddered, a low moan escaping his lips despite his best efforts to stay silent.
"That's it," the Salesman murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Let me hear you."
Ray's teeth clenched, fighting against the pleasure coursing through his body. But as the Salesman's skilled fingers continued their ministrations, teasing and stroking with maddening precision, Ray found his resolve crumbling.
"Fuck," Ray gasped, his hips bucking against the Salesman's hand, breathless as he cursed the other, as if offended that he’s never felt this good before. "Fuck."
The Salesman laughed, the sound low and dark. "We’'ll get to that," he promised, slipping a finger inside Ray's slick heat.
A strangling moan left Ray’s lips as his torso caved forward, now just leaning against the Salesman instead of pinning him against the wall. The Salesman gently took the other’s chin and tipped his face up, watching, entranced, as pleasure and frustration warred on Ray's face. He curled his finger, searching for that spot that would make Ray come undone.
When he crooked his finger at a spongy spot, Ray's whole body jerked, a gasp torn from his throat. The Salesman grinned wickedly, adding a second finger and setting a relentless pace. His thumb circled Ray's clit, adding to the overwhelming sensations.
"Stop fighting it," the Salesman murmured, his lips brushing against Ray's ear. "Let go. Show me how beautiful you are when you fall apart."
Ray's body trembled, caught between pleasure and fury. The Salesman's skilled fingers worked relentlessly, driving him closer to the edge. Ray's nails dug into the Salesman's shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks as he fought against the rising tide of his orgasm.
"Fuck you," Ray gasped, his accent thick with arousal. "I hate you."
The Salesman chuckled darkly, so amused at the other’s petulance, before curling his fingers just right and making the other gasp and clench at his suit. "Hate’s such a strong word," he purred. "And your body doesn't lie."
As if to prove his statement, Ray's hips bucked involuntarily, chasing the pleasure the Salesman gave him. His breaths came in short, sharp pants, his eyes squeezed shut as he teetered on the brink, his cunt getting tighter and tighter, practically sucking the Salesman’s fingers in, as he was brought closer to the edge.
"That's it," the Salesman coaxed, his voice low and seductive. "Come for me, Ray.”
Ray's body tensed, trembling on the edge as he glared up at the other man as his fists gripped the other’s suit. The Salesman could feel Ray's inner walls clenching around his fingers as he fought against his impending release.
"Stop... fighting it," the Salesman growled, his own arousal evident in his husky voice. He pressed his thumb more firmly against Ray's clit, circling it relentlessly.
With a strangled groan, Ray finally shattered. His body arched against the Salesman, gripping so hard that he ripped the Salesman’s suit as waves of pleasure crashed over him. The Salesman watched in awe as Ray came undone, drinking in every gasp, every shudder that wracked his lean frame.
"Beautiful," the Salesman murmured, reverent, slowing his movements to draw out Ray's orgasm.
As the aftershocks subsided, Ray sagged against him, his chest heaving. The Salesman gently withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips with a wicked grin. He made a show of licking them clean, savoring Ray's taste.
Ray watched through half-lidded eyes, a mix of disgust and lingering arousal on his face. "You're fucking insane," he panted, but there was less venom in his voice now.
The Salesman chuckled, pulling the other in close. "And here you are, coming on an insane man’s fingers," he murmured, his lips brushing against Ray's and all the more happy to be basically holding the other man up. "What does that say about you?"
The Salesman wrapped his arms around that irresistible waist. It felt good to feel the other’s lean body line up against his, an endearing tremble slightly taking over the other’s body from the aftermath of his orgasm. The Salesman could feel Ray's heart pounding, could practically hear it, his chest heaving with each ragged breath.
Ray snarled, his voice low. "You think you know me now?"
The Salesman's lips curled into a wicked grin. "Oh, I don't think I've even scratched the surface," he purred. "But I'm certainly enjoying the process of discovery."
Ray's hand suddenly shot up, catching the Salesman by surprise as he gripped his throat, causing the Salesman to let out a surprised choking sound. The pressure was just shy of cutting off his air supply, a dangerous edge that sent a thrill through the Salesman's body.
“I could kill you right now," Ray hissed, his face inches from the Salesman's. His heavy-lidded eyes still burned, but the fire had settled into a slow, smoldering heat, stoked by lingering desire.
The Salesman's grin only widened. "Never doubted you for a second," he rasped, his voice roughened from the pressure against his throat.
Ray's grip tightened momentarily, causing the Salesman to see dark spots in his vision. But just as quickly, it loosened. Ray's other hand trailed down the Salesman's chest, nails raking over the exposed skin where he had torn open his shirt earlier.
"You have no idea what I'm capable of," Ray growled, his voice low and leisurely, petting the other man’s chest like a panther staking claim on its territory. The Salesman's eyes gleamed with adoration.
“I would love to see it one day," he challenged, his voice husky with desire and the beginnings of a bruised throat.
Ray leaned back and pushed at the other’s shoulders, dark eyes gazing into the Salesman’s own eyes, practically drowning him in their depths. Apparently, an orgasm was all that was needed to tame this wildcat. Before the Salesman could tease him about it, without warning, Ray's strong fingers ripped apart the Salesman’s belt, not even bothering to undo it, he just ripped it apart, all savage and hot.
And then he plunged his hand into the Salesman's pants, gripping his hard length. The Salesman gasped, his hips bucking into Ray's touch.
"Is this what you wanted?" Ray hissed, his grip tightening almost painfully as he glared into the other’s eyes. "To be touched by a killer?"
The Salesman's head fell back against the wall, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. "Oh, Ray," he purred, his voice shaky with pent up desire. "This is my biggest wet dream come true."
Ray arched his brow, unsurprised at the other’s insane rambling. He began to stroke the Salesman's length, his movements rough and unforgiving. The Salesman moaned, his hips thrusting into Ray's hand.
You're sick," Ray hissed, but he didn't stop. “Pathetic.”
His cock twitched at the degradation. Oh, fuck, Ray had him all figured out, didn’t he. He was perfect. Ray's grip tightened as he stroked the Salesman's length, his movements rough and unrelenting. The Salesman gasped, his head falling back against the grimy alley wall as pleasure coursed through him.
"God, yes," the Salesman moaned, his hips bucking into Ray's touch. "Just like that."
Ray snarled, his free hand gripping the Salesman's hair and yanking his head to the side. His teeth grazed the exposed column of the Salesman's throat, biting down hard enough to leave bloody marks.
"You like this, don't you?" Ray growled against the Salesman's skin. "Being used in a filthy alley like a whore by someone who could kill you at any moment?"
The Salesman's laugh was breathless and wild. "Oh," he purred, his voice husky with desire. "You have no idea how much I'm enjoying this."
Ray's grip tightened on the Salesman's length, his strokes becoming even rougher. The Salesman gasped, pleasure tinged with pain shooting through his body.
“You're fucked up," Ray hissed, his movements becoming more frenzied, as if he was determined to bring the Salesman to the edge as quickly as possible.
The Salesman's hips bucked erratically, chasing the pleasure Ray's hand offered. His breaths came in short, sharp pants, sweat beading on his brow. The rough brick wall scraped against his back through his torn shirt, adding a delicious edge of pain to the overwhelming sensations.
"Fuck," the Salesman gasped, his head falling back against the wall. "Ray, I'm close."
Ray's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "Already?" he taunted, his voice low and husky. "I thought you'd have more stamina than that."
The Salesman laughed breathlessly, the sound cutting off into a moan as Ray's thumb swiped over the sensitive head of his cock. "I have plenty of stamina," he purred, his voice strained with pleasure. "But you're just too good with those hands of yours."
Ray leaned in close, his lips brushing against the Salesman's ear. "Then let's see how long you can last," he growled, his accent thick with dangerous desire.
Without warning, Ray dropped to his knees, his hands gripping the Salesman's hips with bruising force. The Salesman barely had time to process what was happening before Ray took him into his mouth, swallowing him down to whatever could fit in his throat in one fluid motion.
The Salesman's head slammed back against the wall, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as Ray's hot, wet mouth enveloped him. No gag reflex. Fuck. Fuck! His hands flew to Ray's hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands as he fought the urge to thrust. His eyes stared at the sky, wondering what god was blessing him today for this to be happening to him and thanking that god with all of this heart.
Ray's technique was merciless, his tongue swirling around the Salesman's length as he bobbed his head. One hand gripped the base of the Salesman's cock, while the other dug painfully into his hip, keeping him pinned against the wall.
"Fuck, Ray," the Salesman gasped, his voice hoarse with pleasure as he looked down at the other man. "Your mouth is killing me."
Ray's eyes flicked up, meeting the Salesman's gaze. The look in them was predatory, dangerous. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard, and the Salesman's knees nearly buckled. He could feel his orgasm building rapidly, a white-hot pleasure coiling tight in his core. His grip tightened in Ray's hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away.
“Ray," he gasped, his voice strained. "I'm going to–"
Ray's eyes flashed knowingly. In one swift motion, he pulled off the Salesman's cock with an obscene pop. His hand replaced his mouth, gripping tightly at the base, effectively staving off the Salesman's impending climax.
The Salesman groaned, actual frustration starting to bubble up in his chest as his hips bucked futilely against Ray's iron grip. His balls we’re fit to fucking burst. "Fuck," he hissed through clenched teeth.
Ray rose to his feet, his grip on the Salesman's cock still firm. His eyes gleamed with a mix of smug cruelty and arousal as he watched the Salesman struggle against the denied release.
"Did you really think I'd let you come that easily?" Ray purred, his voice low and vicious. "After everything you've done?"
The Salesman's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need as sweat dripped down his brow. "And what exactly have I done, Ray?" the Salesman managed to say, his voice strained but still maintaining that hint of playful mockery as he used a hand to brush his sweaty bangs out of his face. "Besides give you the best orgasm of your life?"
Ray tsked before, without bothering to control his strength, he gripped the Salesman's shoulders and forced him down to his knees. The rough concrete bit into the Salesman's skin through his torn pants and his knees were bruised to hell and back, but the pain only heightened his arousal. Now the Salesman was trapped between the wall and long, toned legs as Ray loomed over him, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.
The dim light of the alley cast shadows across Ray’s face, making his eyes seem to glow with an otherworldly intensity. The Salesman looked up at him, drinking in the sight of the other with the desperation of a man deprived of the basic human necessities. Maybe he can now understand the all-encompassing need that his recruits feel, now that he knows how it feels to have his balls about to explode if he didn’t get what he needed now.
“You think you're so clever, don't you?" Ray growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Think you can just waltz in here, witness my kill, and hump against me like a dirty mutt like it's nothing?"
The Salesman's lips curled into a wicked grin, satisfaction curling in his chest despite his compromised position. "Oh, I don't think it was nothing," he purred, his eyes raking over Ray's form. "In fact, I'd say it was quite something."
Ray's hand shot out, gripping the Salesman's hair and yanking his head back sharply. The Salesman gasped, pleasure tinged with pain shooting through him at the rough treatment.
A snarl took over Ray’s face, and even just seeing his upturned lip and pearly whites got the Salesman hot and bothered. And then Ray’s free hand moved to completely undo his pants. The Salesman watched, transfixed, as Ray pushed the fabric down just enough to expose himself.
The Salesman's mouth watered at the sight of Ray's glistening folds, shaved skin flushed a peachy pink but his folds a burgeoning red, still swollen and sensitive from his earlier orgasm.
"You want this?" Ray hissed, pulling the Salesman's face closer to his core. The Salesman nodded, head trying to inch forward despite the harsh grip on his hair. “Fucking pathetic. You better be good at this.”
As soon as Ray stopped holding him back, the Salesman jerked forward, his tongue darting out to taste Ray's slick heat as his mouth slanted against Ray’s folds. Ray gasped, his grip tightening in the Salesman's hair as pleasure shot through him.
The Salesman moaned at the taste and the stinging pain from his hair, his hands gripping Ray's thighs to steady himself as he delved deeper, wanting more. His tongue explored Ray's folds, teasing and tasting with expert precision. He found Ray's clit, swollen and sensitive, and circled it with the tip of his tongue.
Ray's hips bucked involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping his lips. "Fuck," he hissed, his accent stronger as arousal burned through his veins. The Salesman hummed in agreement, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through Ray's body. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue alternating between quick flicks and broad strokes.
One hand slid up Ray's thigh, fingers teasing at his entrance in slow circles before suddenly shoving inside three at once.
Ray's eyes widened and his head fell back, a surprised high-pitched moan torn from his throat from the slight burn as the fingers delved deeper until the knuckles prevented them from going any further. His grip in the Salesman's hair tightened painfully, holding him in place as his hips rocked against the Salesman's face.
"That's it," the Salesman murmured against Ray's heated flesh, his voice muffled but dripping with satisfaction. "Let me hear you, Ray."
Ray snarled, tugging sharply at the Salesman's hair. "Shut up and keep going," he growled, but the breathless quality of his voice betrayed his pleasure.
The Salesman chuckled against Ray's sensitive flesh, sending vibrations through him that made Ray gasp. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue working Ray's clit as his fingers curled inside him, searching for that spot that would make Ray come undone.
Ray's hips bucked against the Salesman's face, chasing the pleasure he offered. His grip in the Salesman's hair loosened as his fingers combed through his locks, and the Salesman revelled in the seemingly subconscious gesture. He could feel Ray's thighs trembling on either side of his head, a sure sign that he was close.
"Fuck," Ray gasped, his voice endearingly watery. "Don't stop."
He sucked Ray's clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue as his fingers worked relentlessly inside him, pushing deep as if wanting to reach the end of him before dragging forward to scrape against the spot that drove Ray crazy. Ray's whole body tensed, teetering on the edge of release.
And then, after a particularly clever curl of his fingers that had Ray arching his hips so low that the Salesman’s neck dangerously creaked from the strain, his fingers left the wet, throbbing heat.
Ray snarled in frustration as the Salesman's fingers abruptly withdrew, leaving him untethered on the edge of release like a newborn foal. His grip tightened painfully in the Salesman's hair as he glared down at him with blazing eyes.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Ray hissed, his voice raw with need and fury.
But his sexually induced frustration did not last for long as the Salesman yanked his pants the rest down, exposing pale and toned thighs. In a flash, he surged upward, lifting Ray’s surprisingly light weight for his height up and spinning them around, pushing the other against the wall. Ray instinctively wrapped his long, long legs around strong hips as the Salesman ground his hard, almost bursting arousal forward. Ray could feel the pulsing veins brushing against his sensitive folds.
"Don’t worry, baby," the Salesman purred, his voice low and husky, "I’m giving us both what we want."
Before Ray could retort at the nickname, all the thoughts in his mind were burned away when the Salesman aimed his hips precisely at Ray’s opening and thrust forward, the head of his cock bullying forward until it popped through.
Ray's head fell back against the wall with a thud, a shaky, high pitched moan torn from his throat at the sudden stretch, sounding music to the Salesman’s ears. Despite how wet and aroused he was, there was still a burn as the Salesman fucked his cock deeper, a testament to the man’s size, as the taller man’s hips desperately working forward until he was buried to the hilt, flush against the deepest part of his paramour.
The Salesman shakily groaned, reveling in the tight, wet heat enveloping him. "Fuck, Ray," he gasped, his hips grinding against Ray's, his veins bulging and asscheeks clenching from the strain of trying to get closer, deeper to the point that Ray hissed at the overwhelming, almost painful pressure against his cervix. "You feel amazing."
Ray snarled, his nails digging into the Salesman’s shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks. "Move," he growled, his voice a mix of demand and desperation.
The Salesman didn't need to be told twice. He pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, setting a punishing pace that had Ray gasping with each thrust. The alley echoed with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and their mingled moans and grunts.
Ray's head fell back against the wall, exposing the long line of his tattooed neck. The Salesman couldn't resist, leaning in to bite and suck at the sensitive skin, determined to leave marks that Ray would feel for days.
“Harder,” Ray gasped, his accent thick with pleasure. His legs tightened around the Salesman's waist, pulling him impossibly closer.
The Salesman growled, his grip on Ray's hips tightening as he increased his pace. He slammed into Ray with brutal strength, each thrust driving them both closer to the edge. The brick wall scraped against Ray's back, adding a delicious edge of pain to the overwhelming pleasure.
"Like this?" the Salesman panted, his voice breathless with exertion and arousal. "Is this hard enough for you, Ray?"
Ray's only response was a strangled moan, his head thrown back in ecstasy. His nails raked down the Salesman's back, leaving angry red welts in their wake. The pain only spurred the Salesman on, his hips snapping forward with even more force.
The Salesman could feel Ray's inner walls clenching around him, a sure sign that he was close. He shifted his angle slightly, searching for that spot, feeling Ray tremble around him. When he found it, Ray’s whole body jerked, a strangled cry escaping his lips. The Salesman got a determined, predatory glint in his eyes, as he kept his thrusts aimed at that spot, relentless in his pursuit of Ray's pleasure.
Ray's body trembled, caught between the rough brick wall and the Salesman's brutal thrusts. His breaths came in short, sharp gasps, punctuated by low moans he couldn't quite suppress, especially when his cervix was pounded against, the pain flowing in with pleasure. The Salesman drank in every sound, every tremor, committing them to memory. The echo of flesh meeting flesh, punctuated by Ray’s gasps and moans, have been burned into his mind, sure to return in his dreams later.
"Come on, Ray," the Salesman growled, his own release building rapidly. "Let go. Come for me."
Ray's eyes snapped open, meeting the Salesman's gaze. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, locked in this primal dance. And then he was able to witness as the other’s dark eyes glazed over, eyes creasing at overwhelming pleasure as Ray's body convulsed, his orgasm overtaking him, muscles clenching and spasming around the Salesman's cock. His nails raked down the Salesman's back, leaving angry bleeding welts through ruined clothing as he cried out in ecstasy, teeth gritting at the waves of pleasure roaring through him. The Salesman groaned at the exquisite tightness, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release.
"Fuck, Ray," he gasped, burying his face in Ray's neck as he thrust erratically, voice muffled into the tattooed skin as he sang filthy praises that were barely audible with how hard he was pressing against the other’s neck.
The Salesman's hips snapped forward with renewed vigor, driving into Ray's oversensitive body. Ray moaned, the sound caught between pleasure and pain as overstimulation coursed through him. The Salesman was relentless, chasing his own release with single-minded focus.
"Fuck," the Salesman growled, his voice strained. "I'm close, Ray. So fucking close."
Ray's hands tangled in the Salesman's hair, yanking his head back to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark with a mix of lust and something dangerous. "Then come.”
The command, combined with the hot tightness of Ray's body, pushed the Salesman over the edge. With a guttural groan, he slammed into Ray one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his release crashed over him. His body shuddered as he came deep inside Ray, wave after wave of pleasure pulsing through him.
Ray gasped at the sensation of the Salesman's hot release filling him, his oversensitive body trembling with aftershocks. For several long moments, they remained locked together, panting heavily as they came down from their shared high.
Ray slumped over against the Salesman’s shoulders as he caught his breath. The Salesman held him through it as he calmed down from his own high, rubbing his hand up and down his heaving back before coming up to massage the nape of his neck.
His muscles were so tense, but Ray couldn’t help but groan in satisfaction at the other’s ministrations when strong hands started kneading at the knots of muscle. Combined with the afterglow from two intense orgasms, he hasn’t felt this relaxed in years.
He really needed a fucking a cigarette.
The Salesman chuckled, the movement of his chest slightly jostling Ray’s loose-limbed body as he held the other tightly in his arms. “I can certainly buy you one.”
Ray's eyes snapped open, realizing he must have spoken that last thought aloud. He tsked before lifting his body up from its slouch against the Salesman. He leaned his shoulders against the wall, his lower body buzzing as it was still held up against the other while their bodies were still connected, which was mostly thanks to how close the Salesman was keeping the other’s hips pressed tightly against his own. Ray reached into his jacket pocket for his own pack of cigarettes. The Salesman arched his brow, watching entranced as the other lit one with practiced ease, taking a long drag before exhaling slowly.
The smoke curled lazily in the air between them, the acrid scent mingling with the lingering musk of sex. Ray took another long drag, his eyes never leaving the Salesman's face. There was a calculating look in those dark orbs, as if he was reassessing everything that had just transpired.
The Salesman remained still, still buried deep inside Ray, unwilling to break their connection just yet. Maybe if he didn’t make any sudden movements, he could cajole the other to stay for another round. His cock was certainly not soft yet, despite having cummed already. It was his half hard cock that kept him desperately pressing forward, making sure it didn’t slip out of that addicting heat.
As lingering pleasure tingled down the Salesman’s spine from the heat around him still, he watched Ray smoke with fascination, admiring the way his lips wrapped around the cigarette, the hollow of his cheeks as he inhaled.
"You're staring," Ray muttered, his voice husky from their previous activities.
The Salesman's lips curled into a lazy smirk. "Can you blame me? You're quite the sight."
Ray scoffed, but there was less venom in it than before. The smoke curled lazily between them as Ray took another long drag of his cigarette, filling the Salesman’s lungs with smoke as well as something more the longer he breathed it in. Something visceral and raw with an all-consuming burn. Ray’s eyes remained fixed on the Salesman, dark and unreadable. The Salesman met his gaze steadily, his thumb rubbing circles into the other’s hip.
After an eternity of eye contact, Ray seemed to come to a decision.
His hand shot out, the side of his palm smacking against the Salesman’s neck in a skillfully executed carotid strike, causing the larger man to immediately pass out.
Ray watched with cold detachment as the Salesman's eyes rolled back and his body went limp. He gracefully landed on his legs albeit trembling a little, hissing as the other man’s cock slid out of his over-sensitive cunt. He caught the unconscious man before he could crumple to the ground, grunting slightly at the dead weight. Carefully, he lowered the Salesman to the dirty alley floor. Then he pulled up his pants, fixing his appearance but not bothering to clean up the mess between his legs.
For a moment, Ray stood over him, cigarette dangling from his lips as he considered his options, ignoring the sticky slick and cum leaking down his thigh.
He crouched down beside the unconscious man, head tilting as he memorized his facial features. Then his nimble fingers deftly searched through the Salesman's pockets, looking for anything that might reveal more about this crazy guy. He found a sleek smartphone, a wad of cash, and a small black business card. The card was blank except for a simple design–a circle, triangle, and square. Ray's eyes narrowed as he recognized the symbol.
Pocketing the items, Ray stood and adjusted his clothing, wincing slightly at the soreness in his body. He took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. His eyes roved over the Salesman's unconscious form, drinking in the sight of his disheveled appearance, the marks Ray had left on his skin.
Finished taking his fill, he began to walk away, melting into the shadows of the night, disappearing as silently as he had appeared. The alley fell quiet once more, save for the distant sounds of the city and the steady breathing of the unconscious man on the ground.
–
Not long after, the Salesman stirred, consciousness returning slowly like the tide creeping up a sandy shore. His head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing behind his eyes as he blinked against the harsh glare of early morning sunlight filtering into the alley. The acrid stench of garbage and stale urine assaulted his nostrils, mingling with a more sinister odor–the metallic tang of blood.
As his vision cleared, the Salesman found himself face-to-face with the glassy, lifeless eyes of Ray's victim. The man's face was frozen in a rictus of terror, his throat a ragged mess of torn flesh and congealed blood. Oh, he forgot about that. The dead body completely slipped his mind earlier, too engrossed in other activities.
The Salesman groaned as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, his body aching in places he didn't even know could ache. The events of the night before came rushing back in a flood of vivid sensory memories–Ray's lean body pressed against his, the taste of his skin, the sound of his breathless moans. A slow grin spread across the Salesman's face despite the pain throbbing through his skull.
He patted his pockets, unsurprised to find them empty. Ray had taken everything–his phone, his wallet, even the card with the Squid Game symbol. The Salesman chuckled darkly. Ray was thorough, he had to give him that.
"Well played, Ray," he murmured, his throat dry and voice rough from unconsciousness and their activities.
With a grunt of effort, the Salesman hauled himself to his feet, wincing at the various aches and pains that made themselves known. His suit was a wreck, torn and stained beyond salvaging. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was the memory of Ray, the taste of him, the feel of him, the sound of his breathless moans.
In the corner of his eye, a glint of light caught his attention. He looked down and saw that it was the small knife that Ray had pulled out of nowhere, the very same one that made the cut that was already clotted but gunky on his neck. He picked up the knife and brought it up to his nose, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed it and smelt lingering vistages of the smell of Ray: blood, cigarette smoke, and something else that the Salesman was only able to garner when his nose was buried in the crook of the other man’s neck, something similar to the bitter taste of roasted coffee. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine Ray in front of him, staring at him with that piercing gaze. Satisfied, he pocketed the knife and gave its solid shape in his pocket a little pat. It will be quite the useful tool, but not for its intended purpose.
The Salesman's lips curled into a satisfied grin as he straightened his tie, a futile gesture given the state of his attire. He cast one last glance at the corpse on the ground, mentally tipping an imaginary hat to Ray's brutal work.
With a spring in his step that juxtaposed his disheveled appearance, the Salesman emerged from the alley and melted into the early morning bustle of the city.
