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Ogata’s footsteps echo against the hard floor of the cold empty building he finds himself running through. He had just been shot at multiple times outside– thankfully each bullet missed him, but some of them got dangerously close. They had come from such a distance that he couldn’t see who it was that shot at him in the first place.
He thinks to himself- So the reason Sugimoto's crew wasn't too concerned about me was because they had another sniper on their team? There aren’t that many people with that level of skill. Who could it be?
He pictures the brown-haired Russian sniper whom he had shot in the face back at the country’s border, and smiles.
No way. He can't have come all the way to Sapporo.
His smile immediately fades.
No, if I were in his place, I would have come. I'd follow me until one of us was dead. I need to find a place to shoot back.
He finds the wooden staircase and starts heading up to get to a better vantage point.
—
Kadokura can feel his heart pounding and the sweat dripping down his face as he runs upstairs trying desperately to escape the danger he knows is imminent. Usami’s footsteps are following close behind, and Kadokura can tell he’s catching up. He’s out of breath and struggling to continue running, it feels like his lungs are on fire. He reaches the top of the steps and runs into an open room, but before he has time to assess the potential escape routes, he can feel himself being slammed against a wall. The rough brick scrapes his cheek, and the impact leaves a sharp ache radiating across his face. He places his hands against the wall to try to brace himself, and then he feels Usami’s chest against his back.
“You really are old. No stamina~” Usami purrs uncomfortably close to Kadokura’s ear before backing off a little and placing a hand against the older man’s back. “I don’t know enough to be worth capturing!” Kadokura knows this plea won’t deter the younger man, but he had blurted it out without thinking. He feels the hand on his back snake around his torso and onto his stomach. “And look at your plump little belly. How pathetic.” Fuck. He’s going to find it. Usami squeezes his stomach hard enough that the veins and tendons in his hand pop out, and Kadokura yelps pathetically. It sounds a little too fake. Usami’s brow furrows. “This is actually the skin that Hijikata gave you, right?” His suspicions are immediately confirmed by Kadokura’s panicked expression- “Of course not!”
Usami suddenly grabs the fabric of Kadokura’s haori and pulls it violently to start slashing at it with his bayonet. “Just as a rich man splits his assets between several banks, he must have split the skins up between people he can trust!” Kadokura presses his forehead into the wall and struggles against Usami, trying to break loose. The sweat runs down his neck, and he can feel more fabric being slashed and ripped away. He can’t see that Usami’s face has started to blush from the sick pleasure he’s getting from this. “Then if someone loses them, he can keep the damage to a minimum!” He grabs a thin strip of fabric wrapped around Kadokura’s waist and cuts it, causing a neatly folded copy of a tattooed skin to fall from beneath the older man’s shirt. It lands between his feet, and Usami lets out an excited cheer. “See! I knew you had one.” He bends down to pick it up and continues, “A copy of someone still alive?” Kadokura looks back at him with a scowl. “Good, good” Usami says while inspecting the skin.
He then shoves the skin copy inside his uniform jacket and aggressively shoves Kadokura to the floor. His knees are the first to make contact with the cold tile, and he manages to get his hands in front of him before his face can hit the floor. Usami straddles the older man and then bends down to grab Kadokura’s pants, tugging them down to his knees. The older man gasps, too shocked and confused to react before his fundoshi is pulled down as well. “What the hell are you-” before he can get the whole sentence out, he feels an intensely sharp impact against his asscheek. Usami smacks him repeatedly, hard enough to make his own hand start tingling from the stinging pain. “You must have more, right? Come on, show me, you little piggy! Just let me see it!” Usami shouts while Kadokura yells incoherently through the assault, not knowing how he’ll possibly get himself out of this situation. Usami is deranged and sick enough to take this in a direction it doesn’t need to– and shouldn’t– go in. The older man’s ass is turning a bright red from the repeated hits, forming a large hand-shaped bruise. Usami grabs him by the bottom of his shirt and lifts it up, before suddenly going silent. He gasps and his eyes widen when he hears loud footsteps coming up the stairs. “Somebody’s coming?” He quickly stands up and grabs his bayonet while turning around to look at the entryway. Kadokura immediately takes his chance and begins to frantically crawl away towards the exit on the other end of the room. “Hey, wait-”
Ogata runs in through the entryway and turns his head, making eye contact with Usami, who immediately kicks him into a concrete pillar. He lunges his bayonet towards the sniper, but he misses and the knife stabs into the wall. Ogata slams the butt of his rifle against the blade, shattering it into several pieces. Usami’s fists slam into Ogata’s face faster than he can process, and he hears the sickening crack of his nose before the pain sets in and blood begins to rush from his nostrils. He’s never been good with close combat, and it doesn’t help that the sudden intense pain and the shock of being ambushed have both caused him to freeze. Usami continues punching him, his fists spreading the blood to Ogata’s cheeks and splitting his lip open. Ogata only lets out small grunts in response to each hit, knowing that showing too much pain will excite Usami too much. “Hyakunosuke… who’s a cheap pawn now, huh?” The more blows he lands, the more blood gushes from the other man’s face. It feels hot against his skin. Ogata’s breathing has become shaky and uneven, and is much heavier now that he’s having a hard time getting any airflow through his nose. The socket where his right eye once was is now starting to ache from the flurry of impacts to his cheekbones– it still hasn’t fully healed on the inside, just enough on the outside for him to be able to use a prosthetic.
Usami then grabs the rifle so that he can empty out the bullets. They all land on the floor, and one by one he kicks them all across the room in different directions. The second Ogata starts reaching for the extras on his belt, Usami uses both hands to grab Ogata’s left arm to throw him over his shoulder and onto the floor. Ogata lands on his back, knocking the wind out of his lungs and causing him to let go of the gun, which slides across the floor. Ogata gasps for breath through his teeth and then rolls over onto his stomach, groaning pathetically and choking on the blood that was sucked into his throat. He makes a gagging sound and spits blood out onto the floor in front of him, cringing at the overwhelming metallic taste. “What’s wrong? Stand up.” Usami taunts him while watching him struggling on the floor. “Get your bayonet and run at me.” Watching this sad performance the sniper’s putting on has caused Usami to start feeling the familiar sensation of arousal forming within himself. He’s always enjoyed seeing others like this, especially when it’s Ogata.
He kneels down with his knees on the back of Ogata’s thighs to pin him in place, and he grabs his wrists far too tightly in order to hold them down near his head. Usami’s face gets within inches of the younger man’s, and his hot breath soaks into Ogata’s ear as he whispers “I’ve missed seeing you like this, Hyakunosuke. It’s been quite a while since you’ve let me do this to you.” Ogata tries to create distance from Usami’s face by lowering his own against the floor. His right cheek lays flush against the cold tile, bringing only a slight amount of relief to his bruising face. He realizes that he’s starting to feel a headache coming on. His blood runs cold when he feels Usami grinding against him and letting out a shaky breath into his ear. He glances up at his rifle to see how far away it is- and it's too far out of reach. He’ll have to get Usami off of him first.
He tries to wrench his wrists out of Usami’s iron grip, and is punished by being bitten between his neck and shoulder. The fabric of his uniform is too thick for blood to be drawn, but the pressure’s still hard enough to hurt- possibly even enough to bruise. He grunts as Usami says “Don’t even fucking try it”, despite the fact that he and Ogata both know that the struggle is part of the fun for him. Usami grinds against Ogata’s ass again, feeling himself getting harder. Ogata feels disgusted by the seemingly pavlovian response he has to being assaulted by Usami like this now, struggling to ignore his own arousal. The most violating part of it all isn’t even the fact that he’s actively being assaulted, but the fact that his body reacts in a way that doesn’t align with his mind. He’s being physically overpowered and at the same time losing control of his own bodily reactions. This isn’t the first time this kind of thing has happened between them– not by far– but he’s determined that it will certainly be the last. He remembers how often they had gotten into heated fist fights in the barracks or in the woods secluded from other soldiers. Sometimes it ended with others separating them and First Lieutenant Tsurumi reprimanding them, but if they were alone, it usually ended like this. Other soldiers seeing the bite marks left on his skin didn't help the rumors and name-calling that Ogata already dealt with as the bastard son of Lieutenant General Hanazawa and a geisha. Usami better enjoy this while it lasts.
Usami continues dry humping him like an animal in heat, letting out lewd high-pitched breathy moans, and he starts licking the blood off of Ogata’s face. His wet tongue streaks once across his cheek and then again from his chin up along his lips and up to the tip of his nose, lapping up as much as he can. Ogata seems insistent on trying to keep his mouth tightly closed, leading him to struggle breathing through his nose. Every exhale makes the blood bubble and spatter out onto the other man’s flushed red face.
He then removes his knees from Ogata’s thighs and places them on either side next to him, straddling him like he had done with Kadokura earlier. He also releases his grip on Ogata’s wrists in order to reach below him and unbutton the man’s pants and pull them down just below his knees, along with his fundoshi. He spreads Ogata’s asscheeks apart to spit the blood mixed with his own saliva onto his hole. He unceremoniously sticks one finger inside of Ogata, and almost immediately adds a second and then a third. He’s going way too fast, and the stretch is painful. He unzips his own pants and pulls aside the precum-soaked fabric of his fundoshi to reveal his hardened length. He spits on his hand and strokes his cock a few times before rubbing it between Ogata’s asscheeks. His breathing is getting heavier.
“You shouldn’t have insulted me the way you did in the infirmary, and you shouldn’t have insulted Lieutenant Tsurumi by betraying him. Is there even anyone left who trusts you anymore?” The more he rubs himself against the traitor’s entrance, the harder he starts panting. He’d spent the past couple days fantasizing about Ogata and the things they’d done together in the past. About how close they had gotten to corrupting the innocent flagbearer Yuusaku Hanazawa, and how badly he had wished he could have personally taken his virginity together with Ogata, if only Hyakunosuke hadn’t been such a socially inept failure of a man with no sex appeal outside of being used. He fantasized about the memory of witnessing Ogata shoot Yuusaku in the head from behind at 203 Meter Hill, after having been the one to convince the sniper to do it. He fantasized about how Ogata had been mumbling Yuusaku’s name when he was sick and delirious in the infirmary.
Usami’s cock begins to press up against, and breach into, Ogata’s entrance. The sniper’s hands ball up into fists and he turns his head so that his forehead rests against the floor as he braces for Usami to slowly penetrate him. The blood-spit lube and the lackluster preparation aren’t nearly enough for it to not hurt. Ogata grunts in pain while Usami groans in pleasure. He soon bottoms out and remains there for a few seconds while he places his hands on Ogata’s shoulderblades, both to hold him down and to brace himself. He begins to pump in and out of Ogata, and very quickly begins moaning in a disgustingly vulgar way. Ogata hisses through his teeth because the pain is making him feel as though his asshole is going to be torn open by the end of this. More blood spatters on the floor beneath him. Usami picks up the pace, the noises coming from his throat compounding with the squelching sound of his cock barely fitting in the unorthodoxically-lubricated ass below him. Ogata really hopes that Kadokura has run far away enough to not be hearing any of this, but Usami couldn’t care less either way.
He hates the way that the pain and the force of it all are turning him on. He hates how every thrust inside of him causes his throbbing cock to rub against the floor, spreading his precum all over it and himself. He hates how this happens almost every single time Usami ruthlessly beats the shit out of him- what is it about being overpowered like this that makes him feel this way? “Ah, mmh, god, you always feel so good Hyaku-chan” and now Ogata’s stomach churns. What a foul nickname. He tries to tune out Usami’s irritating voice by focusing on the heat inside of himself, the stinging stretch of his asshole, and the incredibly painful ache all over his face from being punched eleven times. He can already feel some of the blood drying and becoming crusty on the skin above his lip.
Usami pulls out and gets up on his knees to yank Ogata’s arm and get him laying on his back. He gets between his legs, reinserts himself, and then wraps his hands around Ogata’s neck. Ogata, in turn, grabs Usami’s wrists in case he gets carried away– not that he’d really be able to do much to pull Usami’s hands off of him. He puts some pressure on Ogata’s neck and continues fucking him. Ogata’s grunts turn into choked gargles when the blood from his nose starts pooling into his throat and he has a hard time pushing it out, and a hard time breathing at all. Usami starts going faster, moaning so loudly and being so focused on watching the man beneath him struggle to breathe that his own saliva starts dripping from his mouth and directly onto Ogata’s face. He releases his hands from Ogata’s neck and slaps him across the face before putting his left hand on the sniper’s chest and wrapping the other around his cock, realizing he’s become fully hard as well. “Seems like you’re enjoying this too~ You’re just as filthy as I am, you know.” Still keeping his mouth shut as tightly as possible, Ogata pushes blood out of his throat and out through his mouth. It dribbles down across his cheek and gets in his hair.
Usami spits on Ogata’s cock and starts pumping him before leaning down to bite the younger man’s neck. Still unable to draw blood through fabric, but still enough pressure to leave a mark that’ll start bruising tomorrow. Ogata’s closed-mouth grunts start sounding more like moans, and his precum starts to mix with Usami’s saliva. Usami releases his bite and looks down at Ogata’s cock while he jacks him off, and Ogata takes advantage of this chance to fight back. His fist connects with Usami’s face, and he tries to use his knees to push the man away. This doesn’t work, and looking more excited than he already was, Usami grabs both of Ogata’s wrists to hold them down by his head again while he fucks him more vigorously. “I was wondering when you’d start struggling again, it was almost starting to feel like you had given up!” Ogata continues to squirm beneath him, trying again to get his wrists out of the other man’s grasp, which only pushes him over the edge.
Usami’s orgasm rips a disgustingly animalistic wail out from his throat. He grinds into Ogata’s ass a few more times to ride it out, and then he pulls out and slumps over onto the floor. His cum leaks out of Ogata, who feels repulsed by the sensation. After laying there for a few seconds to catch his breath, Ogata pulls his pants back up, still hard, and rolls over onto his stomach to crawl towards the rifle on the floor. Usami immediately sits up and looks over at him- “Seriously? Is a gun all you can ever cling to?” His face is centimeters away from the rifle. Usami stands up, tucks himself back into his pants, and follows him. “What are you gonna do with an empty gun?” He bends down to grab the container of bullets from the sniper’s belt and tosses the bullets in front of him. “Take these.” His voice starts to raise as anger boils in his chest. “Let’s see if you can load them faster than I can stab you in the heart with your own bayonet, you piece of shit son of a prostitute!”
Ogata uses his tongue to push the bullet he had been hiding in his mouth into the chamber. Usami grabs the bayonet at the same time Ogata loads and cocks the gun. He points the rifle at Usami and pulls the trigger.