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You knew when the boss was out of the house, because that's when the pretty young man roamed the halls. If you spotted Akira, your best bet was to make a hasty retreat into the nearest room and hope to god he didn't follow you.
Akira followed him.
When somebody had told him there was always work available at the Vischio Castle, Masato thought it was because the new leader was tightening security.
"Can't hide from me," Akira said as he pushed Masato against the wall.
Turned out, the reason there was always work available was because people kept dying on the job. Turnover was ridiculously high.
If you didn't get caught, getting sucked off by Akira was the best thing that could happen to you. Akira was damn good at it -- hours of practice, if the stories were right. Masato hoped that the stories were wrong, because they always ended badly. Hard to remember how they ended though, what with Akira's mouth on his cock and hands on his balls.
Maybe it'd be over quick, and Masato could pretend it never happened, and Akira would hopefully also pretend it never happened.
He opened his eyes to look down at Akira, who was making needy noises that could put any porn start to shame.
He caught sight of a black pair of boots.
Nothing killed an erection as fast as seeing Shiki's hard glare aimed at you. Seeing his sword aimed at you. Masato tried to say something, anything, but his voice was stuck in his throat and he was sure that any sound would lead to instant decapitation.
Akira seemed to have noticed his cock suddenly going soft, because he gave a put out grumble. "What's wro-- Shiki!"
If he'd thought Akira had been enthusiastic before, it was nothing compared to how he clamored over Shiki. The kiss he gave Shiki was more than just indecent, and under any other circumstances Masato might have found it hot as hell. Shiki's eyes stayed open the entire time, staring straight at him.
Without Akira even halfway supporting him, Masato's knees gave out and he dropped to the floor. This was the end, his luck had run out.
When Akira tried to undo Shiki's zipper, Shiki placed his hands on Akira's shoulders and pushed him away. No, turned him around, so they were both facing Masato. "Now, now, Akira. You left the man hanging. That's just rude."
Oh god.
"You should finish what you started."
At least Shiki isn't a pervert like Arbitro, most of the guys had said. Under Arbitro, if you were even halfway good-looking, you did not go to work at the Vischio Castle, because you'd probably end up brain-dead and drooling on some guy's lap. Or cut up at the hands of the Punishers, though Masato was starting to think that was the easier way to go because fucking hell, at least it'd be over fast.
Akira was looking over his shoulder at Shiki with a pout on his face. "Dun wanna. Want to do it with you."
Masato would have been perfectly fine with that -- let the two of them fuck each other right there in front of him if it meant they ignored him. Better would be if they left the room, and he could sneak out and run the fuck away from here. Away from Japan, if he could, though Shiki pushed Akira down onto his knees and that plan was pretty much bust.
"Suck him off."
He thought Akira might refuse the order, but no such luck; Akira glared at Shiki, then at him, before lowering his mouth down. As if this were all Masato's fault. And fuck, he had none of the finesse from before, all teeth and scrapes and anything but gentle. Masato wondered if he'd get his dick bitten off before he was killed, and wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake. Even Akira's hands were rough: tight squeezes made his vision flare with pain, not pleasure.
"He's not enjoying it, Akira," Shiki noted in a tone that made Masato want to apologize. Sorry I can't get off on the most painful blow-job ever given, sir. His survival instinct told him to keep quiet.
Akira pulled away to reply, "I don't care."
Masato almost cheered when Shiki kneeled down and pulled Akira back. Akira instantly began kissing and licking Shiki's hand, like a dog or something, which kind of disturbed Masato more than anything had before. Those two were fucked up.
"Think he wants your hole?"
Those words gave Masato a panicked jolt; with dread, he followed the line of Shiki's arm -- he was fingering Akira, gloved fingers going in and out and glistening with liquid. "Ch. How many did you have today already?"
"Not telling."
Probably couldn't even fucking remember. Masato wondered how many of the guys he regularly talked to would be gone after today, and realized it didn't matter since he himself wouldn't be around either. Unless he got incredibly lucky and Shiki found the one little ray of kindness in his heart, or stumbled across some morals between now and whenever he ended this sick game.
"Shiki, Shiki, Shiki.... not with your fingers, I want you inside me--"
Masato closed his eyes, willing his legs to stop trembling and his hands to just lie still next to him. There was some sort of irony here, managing to survive Igura and then basically running straight at the blade he had spent years evading. Shiki's different now, somebody had told him. He only kills for a reason these days.
"You don't really deserve that, do you? You've been really bad."
It made him kind of mad too, that he hadn't even had a say in any of this. He did try to get away from Akira, it wasn't his goddamn fault the man was a desperate slut. Whatever freaky relationship they had going on, they didn't need to drag others into it.
"I'm sorry, I'll never do it again, I'll be good just please please please---"
Masato's eyes flew open, rage burning. He managed to fumble his fly shut, and his legs only trembled a little when he stood up. Leaving. He was going to leave, and nobody would stop him, and then he'd go find an empty building somewhere and hide until they forgot about him. Which would probably happen as soon as Akira found his next victim. He pulled his cap over his eyes, as low as it would go, and made the first step towards the exit.
"Where do you think you're going?" Shiki's cold voice demanded. There was a sudden loud whine from Akira, and Masato risked looking up enough to see that Shiki had come to stand in front of him. Akira was scrambling to stand too, using Shiki to steady himself.
"I--" Fuck, his voice was embarrassingly high. Masato tried to tell his heart to stop beating so damn fast, he could barely breathe anymore. "I'm l-l-leaving. Sir." The stutter wasn't particularly dignified either, but at least he got the words out. He wondered how many of the others before him had tried begging for their lives. Wouldn't do him much good, probably, though if Shiki told him to beg he'd get down on his knees and kiss the man's boots.
"Leaving? What do you think, Akira? Should we let him leave?" Shiki's hand was clutched only loosely around the sword, which gave Masato some small semblance of hope that the death threat wasn't serious. Yeah, maybe Shiki got off on fear, but Akira had one too many screws loose to be properly afraid of him anymore.
Akira had his arms around Shiki's neck and was alternatively kissing Shiki and trying to undo his clothes. "Whatever. Let him leave or kill him, I don't care, just do it fast and fuck me!"
Then there was that smirk. What had been just an amused grin before became a sadistic smile, and Masato couldn't even pretend there was any mercy in those eyes.
He dashed. Made it as far as the door, that was something to be proud of, really, what with Shiki's reputation, although Shiki in Igura didn't usually have young men trying to hump him as he fought. Masato wished Akira's presence were a handicap, although the fact that there was a slowly growing red stain across his chest didn't bode well. Maybe... maybe with medical treatment, yeah, they could fix holes in chests now, this really was only a flesh wound, and sometime around the third step the pain was starting to hit in. Turned out Shiki's sword had been keeping him in place, the moment it pulled out he collapsed to the floor, watching the blood flow out of him.
"Shiki is the best. I love you like this." Akira's voice was kind of dulled, but man, what a sick fuck. He saw bare feet step into the pool of blood and twirl around, splashing the liquid around. A drop landed on Masato's nose, made it itch, but his hand was too heavy to reach it.
"You're incorrigible." Shiki, right, Shiki was the one wearing the boots, stepped closer and then the bare legs were lifted away. Picked him up, yeah, that's probably what happened, because Akira gave an excited squeal. Shiki's legs disappeared from his line of sight, and the thud he heard was probably the door closing.
What a fucking stupid way to go, Masato thought.