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It’s been a long day. Hell, it’s always a long day, every single one. Vidhan has been wearing the dark circles under his eyes like a statement piece. The stress-induced scratch marks on his hands and wrists feel as permanent as his Goliath markings at this point. Everything feels wrong, mixed up, never finished… He has to make prayers every night to try to remind himself that it’s all for something. Failure isn’t an option- not now, not ever. His mind has been so detached from his body that it’s an active process to remember to eat meals for the day, as if the warning signs to care for himself have been long replaced with more urgent brain power. The issue, though… When a check engine light has been on long enough, it inevitably gets to a point where you have no choice but to pay attention to the problem.
This is that point. His body has been begging and pleading for relaxation, to loosen his muscles, to take a breath, to clear his mind. He can’t remember the last time his mind was clear. He’s self-critical, insecure, and always clawing for unachievable perfection. The dingy hotel room is so quiet, he can hear every shift in the building’s foundation. Every creak, every draft, every shiver. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tries to hone in to the feeling of the thin sheet over him in bed. It’s scratchy and cheap, but it serves its purpose. The synthetic cloth shifts along his rough skin with a sickly scraping against his bare chest. He lifts his hands to his face and presses the heels of his hands against his closed eyelids as hard as he can. It’s already obvious that he isn’t getting any sleep tonight, and there’s no use in trying to convince himself otherwise. There’s a tight ball wound in his core, the guilty familiarity of it making his throat constrict.
Damn it…
His brain shifts gears. A grating, insufferable shift. One that he shoves away to the back most recesses of his head in shame and desperation, but the alarm has been silenced too many times now and nothing will keep it tucked away any longer. The uncomfortable press that strains his briefs under this paper thin sheet must be dealt with, now. Vidhan slides his hand over the tent, hovering agonizingly as he tries to argue with every system within himself. This is a completely normal function, and there’s no shame in caring for your body the way it needs. He repeats this a few times mentally as if it were a motivating affirmation. His palm presses against it slowly and tentatively, and a shudder runs down his spine.
Do not make a sound.
The barely audible creak of the flimsy bed springs beneath him causes sirens through his nervous system, and he can’t stop thinking about just how paper thin these god awful walls are. His breathing is shaky and shallow as he tries to draw it out to be as silent as possible. If he made any sounds it would surely leak through, and he’d have to fight the urge to bury himself into the ground, especially considering that the rooms on either side of his are Isaiah’s and—
The mossy green backless gown flashes through his thoughts. Her lean back visible beneath the knotted ribbon hanging from the neckline with her long black hair neatly tied up, and the confident swing of her hips as she entered the event with an almost immediate glance towards him before anyone else.
Fuck, what are you thinking? What’s wrong with you? How dare you think such disrespectful things about your companion who’s only a room over.
Her casual shift towards him in the elevator with the flick of her lighter to spark the cigarette that she gave to him, and him leaning down to make it accessible to her while holding it to his lips. The wordless look towards him for confirmation during the confrontation with Redeye, and her trusting nod after their glances silently communicated “play along, I’ll explain everything later”. The shine that formed in her eyes after Trapper was taken care of, knowing that her Mistress’s hunt became completed then and there.
Stop it. This is perverted, and you should be ashamed of yourself. Do you just lust after every pretty girl who gives you the time of day now, like a pathetic creep? You think that pounding in your chest when you’re around her actually means something? What would she think, you lying here in your sin like this?
His hand desperately yanks his waistband out of the way as his cock flicks out and against his stomach. There’s already an embarrassing amount of slick spread along the tip, and he bites down on his other hand with such force that he can already picture the deep indents of his own teeth there tomorrow.
The least you can do is feel some pain to get some repentance for this disgusting behavior.
Shakily taking hold of his shaft, his hips tremble from the sensitivity as he slowly starts pumping his hand. Vidhan feels a confusing mixture of guilt, pleasure, remorse, and relief that all hit him at once like a battering ram. He has so much respect and fondness for Chaps, and she’s the only one who truly understands some of the rotten faith that looms in his brain. She too has been pushed into the role of divinity with no control of her own. Yet sometimes, his mind runs with the thought of her and enters places he wouldn’t dare try too hard to understand. As he twitches beneath his own fingers his teeth dig further into his own skin, hopelessly trying to suppress any potential noises he may make.
Don’t fuck this up. Of course you’re used to doing that, but you’re already making enough of a fool of yourself in private right now. You don’t want to face everyone else in the morning as they try to pretend that they didn’t hear your gross display, right? Do you want some sinful, pathetic whines echoing through the walls?
A nearly silent, muffled whimper presses out of his mouth against his hand. His head is about to start spinning as he feels the pressure steadily building within himself. The click of a doorknob out in the hallway makes him freeze, tears stinging threateningly at the corners of his eyes. His cock throbs under his fingers and he holds his breath. The rational part of his brain knows that the rest of the party also struggles to sleep throughout the night- who wouldn’t in their situation? Yet the terrifying timing of it makes him want to scream.
They heard.
Vidhan pulses in reaction. As if the situation itself wasn’t humiliating enough, his body decided to get even more turned on. Another moment to tuck away later and not try to understand. It feels like forever as he lies there trembling before hearing the same click of a door being closed back. He starts back stroking himself again with embarrassing promptness.
Are you serious? You barely waited- you’re so ridiculously desperate it would make someone laugh.
The mocking voice in his head makes him twitch into his own hand, and his pace quickens. It feels like he’s bursting at the seams at this point as he chases the end relentlessly. His mind continues to point out just how miserable this all is, and not much time passes before he feels the snap. It’s as if the world freezes for a moment before his torso jerks up to curl over himself and swipe the blanket off. His cock spurts onto his own chest and stomach as a breathy and quiet groan rips from his throat. He sits frozen like a stone briefly, before dropping backwards to let his head thump back on to his pillow. His skin is covered in clammy sweat and sticky cum as he lies there, and the thoughts start rushing in of just how awful this scene must look.
Vidhan has a wave of self-consciousness and guilt as he wipes stray leftover tears from his face. His hand then reaches over to the bedside table, hitting nothing but the wood of the table itself.
Fuck, fuck. There’s no way.
There’s a shameful pit that engulfs his stomach as he realizes he must not have actually grabbed the towel from the bathroom. The bathroom- tauntingly across the hall. He’s going to have to put his clothes overtop of his own seed, waltz out to the hall, and pray to God no one else decides they need a late night bathroom trip as he’s going. If he bumps into anyone in that hall, he’ll simply just die. Drop dead where he stands, in the hallway of a run down hotel. He shakily gets up from the bed, awkwardly drags his clothes on to his body, and takes a deep breath to at least attempt to get rid of his red face and blown out pupils.
Have fun washing that humiliation away.