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Distractions were scarce as Jo looked around the mostly empty house, the Wi-Fi router blinking red and lifeless. His eyes landed on the forgotten papers and laptop that sat on the living room table, scattered and disorganised. It was an almost taunting reminder of how little Jo had done since classes started.
It was easy to get lost; the only sounds that seemed to echo through the apartment were the ticking of a clock and Jo’s own heart beating in his ear, growing louder the more he let the lingering anxiety that had settled in his chest worm its way deeper. Sometimes the peace was welcoming—Taki was constantly busy enough with his classes and extracurriculars, he tended to spend more time out than in his own room. It never felt lonely, yet as the weeks passed, the silence only seemed to grow louder than when Taki would storm through like a hurricane.
With one last glance, he turned away from the window, facing the back room as he slid into the chair, hands sweeping over the desk in an attempt to rearrange the haphazardly arranged papers. As the laptop slowly powered up, he found his eyes wandering, unable to focus as he began to count the cracks in the wall, the unease lingering as he fought the temptation to look back out the window. Unopened documents and countless tabs stared back at him, the words floating, jumbled as his concentration kept slipping away. He typed mindlessly, words he could barely focus on filling the screen, his eyes blurring as he worked.
The sun had disappeared behind the skyline quickly that evening, clouds shrouding the room in darkness faster than usual, the kitchen light barely illuminating the rest of the space. Exhaustion pulled at his eyelids early that evening, calling him to sleep, limbs moving on their own as he washed up and headed to bed, the clock reading 10 pm, earlier than usual.
Slipping under the covers, the bedroom lights flicked off, darkness only continued to bleed into the corners of Jo’s field of vision. The room slowly faded away as he stared at the corner of his room, eyes unblinking, shadows looming closer and crashing over him like a wave. He remained unblinking, watching as the world grew darker, filling the room like an overgrown forest. Staring until his eyes hurt enough to blink, the darkness disappeared, replaced by the dim lights from outside. The darkness slowly crawled back once more, branching out around his vision.
It had become a habit, watching his vision fade and return, before he let himself drift off and let dreams begin to consume him. They didn’t differ too much, not for a while, with the start of classes and stress slowly growing with each passing day.
Nightmares felt common; some nights, Jo could feel himself fall into them. Tonight was no different—the worlds slowly melding together, and he found himself in the same place every night, his heart racing with fear as he ran.
The sounds of the birds’ singing grew louder each time he fell asleep, bouncing off the trees; it was almost deafening. His ears started ringing as he found himself at the tree line, the trunks looming overhead, impossibly tall as he glanced up, trying to find the birds, but only met with empty branches and the hypnotic glare of the sun.
He didn’t notice the trees reaching towards him as he ran, moving closer together, blocking his path as he slipped between them, dodging the shadows as they reached towards him with clawed hands.
The tingling lingered as soon as the noise diminished, fading into complete silence as soon as he faced the tree line. As the clouds engulfed the sun, casting a shadow over the forest, the singing soon turned into the familiar voice, whispering in the wind, calling to him. Shadows crawled along the forest floor, closing in, casting the world into darkness as it approached, arms reaching out and clawed hands grasping and consuming all in its path. He could feel something approaching—it tickled the back of his neck with a hot breath, looming over him with long limbs that reached out towards him. Without a glance, Jo took a step back, stumbling as he turned to flee.
He woke up with a start. Jo could feel his heart racing as he looked around the room, eyes trying to make out the blurred shapes around him, immobilised and unable to move as the rapid beat of his heart refused to calm. The presence didn’t leave; he still felt it on the back of his neck, surrounding him, closing in, it was almost suffocating. He tried looking around the room, back to the same corner, as the darkness began to spread again; it mostly shrouded the looming figure that seemed to stretch to the ceiling.
It became harder to breathe as his heart hammered in his chest, he blinked but the darkness didn’t dissipate, only clinging to the figure, long limbs and a faceless form, his vision unable to focus on it long enough for it to become discernible. Jo tried moving, shifting to find the light switch, but the pressure on his chest only continued to grow as he lay motionless, the weight on his limbs too heavy for him to move.
He blinked again, and it was gone. The weight disappeared as he lifted his head up with a jolt, scanning the room before letting his head fall back down onto the pillow. As he lay back, his mind slowly drifted back to the night before—the cold seeping into his skin, the wind echoing in his ears. The presence lingered, and Jo found himself staring into the same corner of the room, his heart continuing to hammer in his chest.
Sitting up in bed, Jo couldn’t stop the paranoia that had begun to seep into the corners of his mind, prodding every so often as he found his gaze constantly wandering to the same corner of his room.
Nightmares weren’t unfamiliar; memories of waking up sheets wet with sweat, gasping for breath as he blinked away the tears that burnt the corners of his eyes sat buried deep in his memory. He couldn’t deny that with each passing day it grew worse—the darkness of his room was almost less intimidating than the endless sea of white and the emptiness of the forest of his dreams, nothing in sight except the foreboding feeling of something approaching.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he ran his hands along his face, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes along with any thoughts of the previous night. Fumbling, Jo stood up, mentally listing things he needed to do, anything to distract his mind and stop his thoughts from lingering and finding himself back in the sparse expanse of the forest.
The curtains glowed a dim yellow glow as the sun peeked over the horizon, the room slowly brightening as he opened his bedroom door with a slow creak. Although he knew Taki would be deep enough asleep, it wouldn’t stir him even if the door slammed shut.
It was easier to start the day, leaving the house and the lingering memories of the dream behind a locked door, distractions working well enough to push them at bay.
༄
The dull ache behind his eyes began to spread to the back of his head as the day passed, eyes blue and swollen as he pressed his thumbs into the hollow under his cheekbone. He could feel Taki’s worried glances as he took another sip of his coffee, the chatter at their table beginning to be drowned out by the soft hum of the coffee grinder behind them. The lack of sleep had begun taking a toll.
“So, what time do you want me to pick you up?” Yuma asks, the words barely a muffled buzz in Jo’s ear as his eyes blur out of focus, “Jo?”
“What, yes?” Jo’s head jolted as he looked back at Yuma, flustered. His train of thought snapped back like a rubber band, washing over his body and the thrum of his headache only grew worse as it spread across his face, burning the shell of his ear red.
“Time tonight? Taki said he’ll meet us there, so I’ll pick you up instead.”
The faint recollection of the discussion over the weekend’s plans bubbled closer to the surface of his mind but not close enough to remember much more than Taki’s eager invitation to one of his classmates' parties. The chorus of eager acceptance only pulled him into the mix as he nodded along.
Something uncomfortable sat in his chest as Jo cursed himself for accepting the offer; the need to crawl into bed was strong enough that he almost considered finding another way to escape the inevitable late night.
“Anytime, just text me,” Jo says with a shrug, “but if you hook up with anyone, I'm going home.”
He registered Yuma’s mock protest, and Taki cackled loudly beside him, but he could only bring himself to smile in response, attention only slipping away again.
༄
The persistent pain behind his eyes refused to let up; the medication he had taken before they left was already beginning to wear off from the heavy vibrations of the bass and flashing lights.
They had arrived later than Jo anticipated; he had gotten ready as dusk began to settle in the sky, waiting under the shades of purples and deep reds until Yuma sent, "I’ll be there at eight," and his heart sank.
The moon was full, looming over them; the street illuminated brightly as they arrived at the apartment block, and the music was audible from the street. Jo almost felt bad for the neighbours. It only grew louder as they entered the unit; the lights flashing under the door sent another wave of dread through Jo.
It was easy to find a corner to stick to, away from the vibrating speakers in the kitchen, which was better lit than the other rooms. Taki had stuck by his side for the company for a while, cups of alcohol disappearing as fast as they came; however, his attention was pulled away someone from his dance team whisked him away.
“You seem bored,” Jo almost swore as he jolted, startled, the alcohol in his cup spilling out. The voice coming from behind him, barely audible over the music, yet sounded like a whisper in his ear. “Do you want to join me?”
Jo wanted to blame it on the previous shots, the room darker than it had been before as he spun around. He could feel the unease spreading, shocking every nerve, too bewitched to reject the offer. His eyes were too blurry from exhaustion or the alcohol; he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t focus on the man's face, only the soft eyes and gentle smile as he felt fingers wrap around his arm, leading him to one of the back rooms, the voice whispering in his ear again. “My name is Yudai, by the way.”
The room was dark. Dark enough he could only make out Yudai’s silhouette in front of him, Jo’s eyes straining to make out the mischievous glint of his eye and the glisten of his lips as they curled into an upward smile. The curtains were closed, moonlight barely trickling in, and Jo was sure there was more light coming from under the crack of the door than between the thick curtains that had been carefully drawn shut, but he didn't question it.
The heavy fog behind his eyes only spread as he felt hands roam over his body. Yudai slowly slipped off his clothes at a pace arduous enough that the impatience that crawled along his skin became too uncomfortable to bear. Fingers barely brushing against him as if he were handling fine antiques, yet Jo could only find himself able to sit frozen in the dark. Heart beating in tune to the bass of the music thrumming in the air.
His skin felt sticky with sweat, the air already thick with humidity and the warmth of the early summer. A bitter taste sat at the back of Jo’s throat, anxiety rising like bile as he felt it constrict; it coiled deep in his chest, skin prickling.
Perhaps if he were more lucid, more in control of himself without the influence of alcohol that numbed his thoughts enough he could barely muster a reason for protest, he’d have run. Yet as Yudai’s voice whispered gently in his ear, asking for permission for more, a choked-back yes only echoed in the room as his response.
The room was large, yet Yudai’s presence only continued to fill it, stretching to each corner like the darkness that surrounded them. Fingers dug into his thighs; nails almost too sharp as they sank into his skin, Jo would have been certain they’d have drawn blood if reason didn’t pull him away from the thought.
Fear was deafening, louder than the steady, rapid beat of his heart. Jo didn’t hear the sound of lube clicking open or the sound of a packet torn open when he felt a lube-slicked finger push inside of him. A part of Jo wanted to try and look behind him, to sate the curiosity that bubbled to the surface, but with each thrust of his finger, he only pushed his head further into the pillow.
It felt deeper than usual, deeper than past partners or when he tried it himself, the discomfort slipping into further unease as Yudai slipped another finger in, stretching him open, almost methodical in his pace. He felt like a marionette puppet on a string with Yudai in control, jerking each string, playing with Jo like a toy, not paying mind to be careful in case he broke. Jo was sure he had other toys to replace him.
“Can I fuck you?” Yudai asks. His voice was syrupy sweet and barely above a whisper as it rang across the room, like layered voices echoing in Jo’s ear, hypnotic and eerie.
He could feel the ghost of Yudai’s breath at the back of his neck, too close, too uncomfortable. “Yes,” the words felt foreign as they left his lips, voice strained and barely above a whisper. He could feel his control dwindling, his mouth moving on its own accord, as useless as the rest of his body, “please.”
Regret appeared as quickly as he replied, cheeks burning as he tried finding the words to ask if it could be the other way around. He wasn’t one to deny he had fucked others before; however, bottoming wasn’t an experience he had shared with anyone other than himself one curious night alone in his room. The anxiety ate at him, especially now, caressed by a stranger who made his skin crawl and heart race with someone akin to excitement.
He tries to will his muscles to relax, the tension that drew them back tight unwavering as the apprehension continued to build as he felt something press to his rim. Yudai pushed in slowly, drawing out a long, stuttered gasp from Jo, the sensation almost unending. As long as it had been since Jo had allowed himself to find his way back in someone else’s bed, fucking was always familiar titillation. Yet as Yudai’s cock pushed past his rim, the loud protest that was ringing inside his ear didn’t dissipate, unable to shake off the nervous presentiment that had settled in his chest as he felt something move inside of him.
Jo could feel something wet pressing to the back of his neck, Yudai’s tongue catching the sweat that had beaded at the base—his skin burnt with the slow drag as if he were catching alight, singed with exhalation.
As inebriated as Jo was, he could feel something was wrong, the sensation of Yudai’s touch slowly morphing into something unsettling as he tried to piece each caress and squeeze together. Hands gripping his hips too far down his body for Yudai to reach anything close to his upper body, yet the wet warmth of his tongue on the back of his neck only sent his mind spinning.
The curiosity that had simmered in the back of his mind earlier, the curiosity he thought he had quelled, rose to the surface again, while the rest of his body protested as he tried to shift—weighed down by lead and trepidation.
Jo could feel his thoughts crumble again as Yudai moved his hips, the pieces he had tried to weave together falling apart as a wet sob left Jo’s lips. Yudai was silent, the sound of each thrust louder than the soft puffs of air that Yudai pushed past clenched teeth, almost reminiscent of a hissing snake.
It was tentative at first, the drag of Jo’s cock slow enough it was almost uncomfortable, his legs twitching, but as he opened his mouth, barely a protest came out.
It didn’t last long, the grip on his hips tightening, but the sharp pain quickly was forgotten, drowned out with the sudden snap of his hips and the sudden shocks of pleasure that ran through him like electricity along a wire with each quickening snap of his hips.
Jo’s face burned, the pillow wet from spit and tears. He wasn’t sure when he had started crying, body shivering, moans followed by hiccup-like sobs, his skin burned bright as he squeezed his eyes shut. Shame and fear were as loud as his heart, and for once he was thankful for the darkness that surrounded them, masking the emotions he was sure bled through on his face. He could feel them peak then flutter away as he found the rest of his mind beginning to unravel, each thought hazier than the next, slipping away before he could find his grip on it.
Jo wanted to speak, but only soft, broken whines found their way out, too distracted by the growing sensations. A hand finds his cock, curling around the base, lazily jerking him off, but the grip of his thighs doesn’t disappear. Hands roam over his body, some of the touches barely a caress, some burning hot, others like ice as something pinched his nipple or wrapped around his wrist; simultaneously and only after the other, Jo could no longer tell.
Sharp nails like needlepoints trailed along his skin, grip tightening, and something wet and sticky spread along his thigh as Jo’s hands shifted. Fear blooms again, coiling and rabid, Jo’s breath hitching as he lifts his head, barely twisting it so he could glance over his shoulder. It was dark, darker than his room as he peered, eyes widening, searching, trying to make out Yudai’s form behind him. Only finding shadows shifting and moving, the room spinning too much for him to focus or make anything out other than something humanoid towering over him.
Yudai’s hand wrapped around his cock again; it felt bigger than before, fingers longer, bonier, as his cock disappeared in Yudai’s loosely curled fist; a voice whispering next to his ear, “it’s cute you wanted to ask to fuck me with your pathetic little cock.”
Jo’s body shakes as he comes, the shudder matching the broken sob, his legs almost giving if steady arms didn’t hold him in place. Respite never coming as Yudai continued to fuck him through it, so visceral and raw until warmth fills him, and Yudai’s grip finally loosens as the remaining aftershocks finally cease.
There was a chill in the air as the sudden warmth seeped away, as if it trickled out of him along with the cum, a shiver running up his spine as the weight in the bed behind him disappeared.
There was no light nor sound when Yudai left; gone without the familiar creak of the door opening, nor were there footsteps, yet he still felt hands press to his neck as he drifted off, the world fading as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
༄
A shiver crept down Jo’s spine as he woke to the familiar buzz of his phone, squinting as he glanced at the bright screen reading Yuma’s name, rejecting the call with a groan as he let his head fall back to the pillow. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he rolled onto his back, his vision still unfocused as he stared at the ceiling through half-opened lids, struggling to stay awake as they fluttered open and closed, focusing on the faint sound of dishes clanging in the sink.
Jo wasn’t sure how long he lay in bed, his mind wandering as his eyes closed again, drifting in and out of consciousness until his stomach began to grumble in protest, forcing him to stumble out of the bed, still wearing the clothes from the previous night, the faint smell of sweat still lingering. He discarded them in the hamper as he made his way to the shower, unable to look back at the pile, the familiar taste of regret rising to the tip of his tongue like bile as the faint memory of the party followed him into the bathroom, clinging to his skin.
He couldn’t remember how he got home, the memories of that night fading away faster the more he tried to make sense of them. He remembers the music vibrating in his ears, Yudai taking him to bed, and what came after, before it fades into wisps of smoke he couldn’t grab onto. The only thing that remained were thin, red claw-like marks that decorated his back, some areas already starting to welt and scab.
༄
The nightmares only grew louder as the days passed, each evening waking up with a ringing in his eyes and his heart pounding loud enough it felt like a chorus of drums that bounced off the walls of his room. The figure remains, looking, some nights clearer than the rest. More human. He can make out the glint of eyes, all blinking back at him; rows of teeth like daggers, stained red, too large to fit in its mouth, its lips pulled back into something that resembles a smile; long black claws that dragged across the floor or dug into the walls and ceiling as it crawled closer. Other nights it’s darker, Jo’s eyes straining to make out the writhing mass of tentacles and eyes, its form barely discernible as a hand reaches forward, dragging itself closer.
Sometimes it’s human enough; the soft curve of its face and spit-soaked lips seemed familiar, and the memory of hands roaming over burning skin and the aching stretch followed him in his dreams. Thankfully, Taki had broken the habit of checking on him in the morning as he woke up with cum stained sheets, embarrassment burning through him as he rushed to put on a wash.
Jo tries not to think about his dreams and waking nightmares; it was easier to put on a face than deal with the worried glances of his friends, concealer hiding the rest. Part of him considers mentioning his sleep paralysis, about the creature that appeared, but something catches his tongue each time; he reasons it’s because he doesn’t want them to worry yet, he knew there was another reason the words refuse to form behind his lips.
He didn’t get much of a choice. Taki was waiting for him one evening, the table set and covered in dishes, still steaming as Taki called him over—the trap set so he couldn’t escape. It wasn’t much; however, the gesture alone only said Taki planned to talk.
“What are you doing back so early?” Jo asked, eyes narrowing as Taki feigns innocence, mouth open in mock surprise from the implied accusation.
“Practice was cancelled, and I wanted to spend time with my favourite roommate,” Taki replies as Jo walks inside slowly, letting the bag slide off his shoulder and onto the couch.
“That sounds like a lie, but I’ll accept the food,” Jo replies, slipping into the chair across from Taki.
“Why would I lie when it’s true?” Taki was good at dramatising everything he said, expressive and teasing as he continued to poke. “Besides, we haven’t spent time together in so long; classes are kicking my ass.”
There was something comforting about the normalcy of Taki's usual disposition; it was easier to bury his worries under the friendly jabs to assuage the dread that followed him each night.
“Maybe if you actually spent more time studying and doing assessments on time, you’d be less stressed,” Jo rolls his eyes as he piles his plate up, the ache in his stomach making itself known with the smell of the food.
They continue to talk, filling the silence Jo had grown accustomed to at night, Taki spilling whatever the gossip was of that week. Talking was always easy with Taki; they had known each other long enough that the walls they had built around themselves came crumbling down, leaving a silent understanding between them.
“Have you been sleeping any better?” Taki finally says, absentmindedly picking apart a piece of chicken on his plate, hesitant as he continues, carefully choosing his words,“I can see you’ve been sleeping less and less these last few weeks. Are the nightmares back?”
Jo considers lying, or at the very least stretching and twisting the truth, Taki’s worried gaze making him squirm in his seat, “most nights but they go away after I wake up, I’ve been sleeping fine after.”
Being taken care of was something Jo couldn’t deny. He loved when Taki would visit his room with food when he was sick or helped him during harder nights; however, the longer Taki would watch him with the same perturbed expression the more guilt started to coil around his stomach like a twisting snake.
“Do you want to see that doctor again?” Taki always meant well, and Jo appreciated the frantic worry he had for Jo, which he usually tried to hide behind a playful demeanour. Yet he wasn’t sure how to explain what he had been seeing every night. Let alone the shame of how many times he’s had to throw his sheets in the wash in the early morning hours, barely able to muster an excuse or explanation for himself let alone for someone else.
Jo shakes his head, waving off the remark, “it’s getting better, honestly, I’m fine. I think it’s just stress from classes but once we finish this semester I’ll be fine.”
Taki throws him another glance, eyebrows furrowed before diving into another story, changing the subject to Jo’s relief. He knew it was on purpose, for his own sake and he let himself get lost in the story so his thoughts didn’t wander.
༄
Jo wasn’t sure why he found himself crawling into bed so early as if possessed, body pulled by an invisible leash towards his room. Using the lie of study to excuse himself as Taki shrugged, spreading out on the couch, the light of the TV flickering on his face.
Crawling under the sheets he pulled his cover up to his chin, eyes darting around the room. The lights flickered; the old bulbs buzzed to life before flickering off again. The warmth of the room seemed to fade with the light, goosebumps travelling up his arm as the room was cast into darkness. His chest ached, apprehension seeping into his bones, piercing his flesh like ice as he felt the loss of something he couldn’t name.
He finds himself staring into the darkness again, watching as it slowly seeps into his vision, the room growing darker, then something moves in the corner of his room, shadows shifting and his eyes dart to the corner. The darkness disappears, the room as empty as before yet Jo could only feel his chest ache as his heart beat faster. Yet he falls asleep easily, his skin tingling as he drifts off, knowing it wouldn’t be long until he woke up again.
The room was brighter when he did, the familiar weight on his chest as he lay frozen, eyes blinking as he tried to get rid of the thin layer of haze, struggling to focus. The curtains swayed in the breeze, lights dancing around the room as they fluttered in the breeze; the moon wasn’t full yet it streamed inside like a spotlight. Remnants of the dream sat behind fuzzy eyes as he tried to make out his surroundings, squinting.
It was easier than usual to discern everything in his room, the chair next to his desk, laundry piling up on it; books stacked next to his bag, papers and notes spread out everywhere and the collection of old plastic bottles he hadn’t thrown out yet. He sees it last.
It sits in the corner of the ceiling at first. Shadows conceal it until long limbs reach forward, talon-like claws dig into the ceiling and specs of paint and dust flutter to the floor, its tail flicking back and forth behind it, almost like a cat once it has locked onto its prey.
The familiar mantra echoes in his head, his lips barely able to move as he tries to whisper to himself, "it’s not real."
A cold, cruel laugh bounces off the walls in his room in response. It sounded like chalk and nails scraping down a blackboard before tapering off into something more seductive, almost cute, as it giggled.
The mattress dips as it crawls onto the bed, he feels hands press into his legs then hips, Jo is only immobilised as it gets closer, claws leaving small holes in the sheets. He was sure it could hear his heart pounding in his chest, bile rising up in his throat as he made out its face; almost human, soft cheeks and bright eyes framed by dark hair. Jo would have almost said it was handsome if it wasn’t for its gasping mouth, teeth too large to fit it reminded him of animals found in the trenches of the ocean, and blackened eyes that were dark enough he couldn't tell if he was staring into empty sockets or not.
There was an eerie familiarity as he looked at it, long limbs awkwardly positioned over him. The memory he searched for was in reach, floating close to the surface yet as he tried to reach for it, it faded away, pushed back out of his grasp, almost as if mocking him.
It stays looming over him, one hand gripping his thigh hard enough that Jo almost winces. Fingertips pressed over the growing tent in his boxers, rubbing carefully as it avoided letting its claws pierce his skin, lips twisting into a smile as he only grew harder under its touch. Jo squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to hold back the noises threatening to escape his lips, the taste of blood filling his mouth as he comes, his teeth biting hard into his lip.
“Cute.” It whispered in his ear, sweet and melodic and too familiar.
Jo remembers flashing lights and the feeling of bass reverberating in his chest as he falls asleep, the same wave of exhaustion from that night forcing his eyes shut and dragging him back into the lugubrious depths of nothingness as he drifts off, unable to fight to stay awake.
Jo wakes up again, sheets still stained and a bruise in the shape of a handprint blooming on his thigh. The bile that had been sitting at the bottom of his throat rises as he runs to throw up in the bathroom, tears glistening in the corner of his eyes.
༄
Darkness bled into the sky like spilt ink over a freshly painted canvas as the sun began to set behind the skyline, the familiar deep purples and pinks illuminating the outline of each building. Jo could feel the cool air of the evening breeze slowly sink past the thick layers of his clothes. His skin prickled as an uncontrollable shiver ran down his spine, trying to find enough courage to go back to the empty house.
He considers calling someone, coaxing someone to come out with him with the offer of free food and drink; however, he couldn’t shake the nagging need to go back home.
The bruise had only grown darker as the day passed, the pink spreading into patches of deep purples and greens, the shape of the hand even clearer. A reminder of the previous night he couldn’t escape from. It continued to eat at him for the rest of the day, gnawing at his mind, persistent and incessant, following him until reason finally began soothing his thoughts, flushing the inner turmoil away with the light breeze.
It was easy to justify that if it wanted him dead, he would be, it was too unimaginable that it would play with its prey this long, but play it did.
Looking at the sky, a wave of calm washes over him, and for a brief, fleeting moment, he thinks the moonlight looks almost surreal shining on the road. Ghostly.
It didn’t take long for the world to be completely encompassed by darkness, the moon hidden behind dark clouds, the threat of a storm approaching. He walked down the street, and the streetlights remained dim, only emitting enough light to illuminate the moths gathering around the dying bulbs.
The walk back home didn’t take long. As aged as the area was, Jo always felt comfort in the silent streets—it washed over him like a wave. Soothing, blanketing him from the realities that he has to face during the day and into the later hours of the night.
Taki was home again once he returned, hunched over the main dining table, frantically typing on his laptop, finishing a report Jo could assume was left until late. He joins him at the table, making a half-hearted attempt at his studies, concentration slipping easily until it was late enough that they could both excuse themselves to the room. Takeaway containers and dirty dishes, along with half-finished coffee forgotten on the table.
It takes him a while to drift off, however, when he does, the nightmares don’t come yet he wakes up with a pounding heart and aching chest, gasping for air, the creature, Yudai, already waiting for him at the foot of the bed, a clawed hand reaching outwards.
Memories of that night bubble back to the surface, the same face as then peering down at him.
He opens his mouth to speak, countless questions simmering, ready to boil over, but only a choked-out “why?” comes out.
There was a rumble in Jo’s throat, scratching and gurgling, “your fear tastes delicious. It’s easy to play with you.” He crawls closer, tugging down the sheets covering Jo’s body, “you like being played with don’t you?”
Jo winced as Yudai spoke, words carefully strung together behind his large teeth. Jo suspected it was why he barely spoke, but his voice was eerie enough that Jo could only be glad.
Heat began to build in the pit of Jo’s stomach, eyes darting down to his cock as it hardened under his boxers, a hand brushing against his thigh.
Yudai leant forward, tongue peeking out from behind his lips as he licked them, and Jo only held his breath. Eyes squeezing shut as he felt Yudai press his lips to his own, sharp teeth biting into soft flesh, and his tongue pushing into his mouth, rough and ridged. It pressed deeper until Jo could feel it hit the back of his throat, tears welling like small diamonds, glistening as he gagged; Yudai only pushing his tongue down deeper in response. It filled Jo’s mouth, suffocating him, nose flaring as he tried taking in quick gasps of air, his throat contracted, squeezing. Yudai finally pulled back as his body convulsed, watching him with a thin smile, malefic and dispassionate as a thin stream of vomit painted his sheets.
“Please,” Jo started, the vomit still wet and glistening on his lips as his voice tapered into a broken sob, interrupted by a long, thin, claw digging into his hip, dragging down as it shredded whatever was left of his clothes.
His cock twitches in the open air, flushed and dark with need, and he hears Yudai laugh again, his hand wrapping around Jo’s cock, the prick of a claw pressing against the tip, yet it doesn’t feel sharp. He writhes under Yudai’s touch, thighs shaking, wanting to kick away, but he could only fear what would come of it.
There was a visceral part of him that wanted to give in, to ignore the shame that made him want to run and hide. It was always easiest to give in, to buck his hips and encourage Yudai to use him, to play and take whatever he wanted until there was nothing left but the reason that held his trepidation knew it would only fear him apart.
A broken sob left Jo’s parted lips as he felt the nail press into the tip of his cock, thin enough to slip inside, his body shaking as it disappeared, the drag slow as his other fingers rubbed at his tip. Yudai didn’t let up. The drag in and out of his urethra was almost torturous, the sharp tip catching on flesh as it did; his cock aching, desperate to come.
Pleads left his mouth like a chorus, cheeks bright red and glistening with the streaks his tears left behind, his hips bucking until a strangled gurgled moan rips from his throat, spilling into Jo’s hand.
They sat in silence; the only sounds in their small apartment came from the flush of the toilet and the soft footsteps walking slowly towards his room.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the laugh wasn’t cruel but warm, gentle, his tongue darting out and licking one of the tears that rolled down his face, following the trail upwards, and Jo could only watch, eyes wide and lids straining as the tongue dragged over his eyeball.
He blinked, and the room was empty. The only thing that remained was soiled sheets and shame that wedged deep into his heart and threatened to crawl back up his throat with each turn of his stomach.