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Ash felt warmth spreading where Arthur's knife had grazed him, and knew without looking that the prim whiteness of his dress shirt was quickly becoming scarlet.
Arthur's eyes flickered, only for a moment, to the crimson blooming on Ash's neck. The fluttering pulse in his neck and the sharp intake of breath betrayed his excitement.
"What's the matter? Get quesy at the sight of blood?" Ash whispered. He pitched his voice just low enough to force Arthur to meet his gaze, to blanche as he realized that Ash knew precisely why his hands were white-knucled around the knife.
"You're one to talk -- you're shaking like a fucking leaf."
"Only because I'm excited. Because, you see..."
At this Ash leaned forward, close enough to feel Arthur's breath on his skin, to see his pupils dilate.
"Everything you do to me, I'll return tenfold."
"Really now. So if I were to, say, do this..."
Arthus dragged the knife along the buttons of Ash's shirt, grin widening as they fell to the ground one by one. He paused near the leather belt, caressing the fabric with the edge of his knife.
"How I answer depends on what you do with the knife," Ash replied easily. "For now, I think I'd settle for using that cheap dress shirt as a noose."
"You'd kill me?"
"No, but you'll want me to. I'd wait until you're almost blue and then slacken it. Not a moment sooner," Ash said, his smile angelic.
"Pretty vanilla, Ash. So what if I used the knife?"
Arthur flipped the knife, tracing irregular patterns against Ash's exposed chest, spellbound as the invisible lines grew rosy. There was just enough pressure to mark, but not enough to break the skin.
"Coward," Ash sneered.
The low warmth across his chest sharpened and spread, trickles of blood catching on the blade's edge. Ash tried to focus through the pain and figure out the pattern -- the smile on Arthur's face was too self-satisfied for it to have no meaning.
"Aren't you gonna ask what it says?" Arthur asked quietly. His eyes locked onto Ash's, unblinking as he brought the knife towards his tongue and allowed himself to sample the perverse ink.
"Don't care."
"That's a shame. Because I'd love to hear what creative 'tenfold' punishment you'd dish out.”
“You’re too chickenshit to do anything worth killing you over,” Ash said, hissing through his teeth as the blade dug further into the fresh wounds. Arthur’s nostrils flared, and for the first time Ash felt the smallest tremor of unease.
“We’ll see about that,” he said, finding new, unmarred flesh to claim; bright sparks of pain ignited against his skin, raw and exposed as his stomach shifted towards a more ghastly shade of vermilion. Ash turned his head to the side, teeth set in a grimace as the pain began to dull into a low roar. He felt rather than saw Arthur grab the side of his face, fingers digging into his cheeks until they seemed to be grasping his very bones.
“No, no, no, Ash,” Arthur crooned, eyes wild and alight. “You don’t get to look away from this.”
Something dark flashed in his eyes, the familiarity of it sending a violent wave of nausea through Ash’s stomach. Ash forced himself to steady his breathing as he felt cold steel tease the waistline of his pants, slicing through the leather belt with deliberate slowness. He could feel his body respond instinctively, pulse quickening and breaths feeling thin and short. Arthur’s hand trembled as it gripped his face; he could feel Arthur's fingers, scarred and dirty, against the imprint of his teeth.
“If you do this, I will kill you,” Ash growled, tugging fruitlessly at the chains suspending his arms. He felt a slackening near his waist, and knew without looking that both the belt and button holding his trousers in place had been severed. His skin felt clammy and sweaty, growing paler and colder by the second; it felt as though all the blood in his body had drained, settling into a heavy, dense dread in the pit of his stomach.
“I can’t wait to see that pretty mouth of your scream,” he said, re-tracing the same patterns he’d etched into Ash’s skin; before he could stop himself, Ash yelped, instinctively arching away from the white-hot pain.
“What’s that? More? So greedy, Ash,” Arthur tutted, admiring the crimson rivulets that had begun to flow more freely. A strange, glazed expression had washed over him; Arthur’s eyes raked over him hungrily, as if drinking in the sight of him shackled and bleeding, shirt and pants hanging open in a mockery of invitation. Ash knew this look — even when it was Arthur, when it looked all wrong on a face that only ever sneered or spat at him.
“Don’t you fucking think about it,” he snarled, swinging his leg up and cursing as it failed to connect with Arthur’s ribs. Arthur grabbed one of the chains and rattled it, the grin on his face widening as Ash’s torn trousers slipped indecently low on his hips.
“Are you that eager to see your little Japanese friend killed?”
Arthur twirled his knife idly, fingers nimble as they danced just past its edges. Ash stilled, eyes narrowed.
“Y’see, Papa’s got him all tucked away in a room, probably with that Chinese kid from dinner. You know better than anyone that Papa has an appetite; I wonder what would happen if he found out that you killed me?”
Arthur curled his fingers in Ash’s hair, pulling until the thin column of Ash’s throat was exposed. Arthur’s grip was relentless, and Ash wondered vaguely how close he was to having his hair ripped out.
“Here’s what I think. I think he’d teach him a lesson. I think he’d want you to watch him make your precious fuck buddy bleed —“
Something in Ash’s expression must have shifted, because Arthur’s smile became conspiratorial, as if discovering a secret only fun when shared.
“Ah. So that’s how it is. I bet you haven’t even touched him. But you’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”
“Shut up.”
“I bet you’ve dreamed about him, all doe-eyed and innocent. But someone like him wouldn’t know the first thing about it, would he? But that’s alright. You’d love to show him.”
Arthur leaned close to Ash’s ear, breath uncomfortably warm; in spite of himself, a small shiver ran down Ash’s spine, hovering somewhere between disgust and pleasure.
Something hot and wet traced the outline of his ear before descending further down his neck; the disgust compounded when he felt it trace the mark left by Arthur’s knife.
“I bet Eiji wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t even dream of it.”
Arthur’s tongue traveled lower, edging dangerously close to his chest. Ash’s breath lodged in his throat; emboldened, Arthur lapped greedily at the pink nub, teeth grazing it just lightly enough to cause goosebumps to appear on Ash’s skin. Ash bit his lip, stifling a whimper as Arthur’s mouth circled around it, sucking and licking at the nipple. Ash’s stomach churned with mingled nausea and unwanted lust; he could feel the blood drain from his face and pool precisely where he didn’t want it to.
“You’re like a woman, Ash, getting all excited about me sucking your tits. I bet Eiji wouldn’t mind taking care of you like this.”
“Don’t you dare bring him into this.”
“That’s right, wouldn’t want to spoil this memory, would you? I want you to remember this when you finally have your precious Eiji. I’m going to be the one you think of when you fuck him,” Arthur whispered, voice soft before dipping in a self-indulgent moan. Arthur’s body was flush against his as he nibbled and sucked; for all of his cruelty, the insistent hardness pressed against his thigh betrayed Arthur’s feigned indifference.
Eye screwed shut, Ash shivered as a hot tongue and curious teeth traveled lower, saliva cooling in its wake. Following the dip of his belly button, the indent of his hips — it felt as though every inch of skin between his oversensitive chest and unwanted arousal was marked and claimed. He could feel Arthur’s steady venture downward — how strange to feel Arthur panting and sucking somewhere so intimate — could hear the soft clink of his belt as trembling hands undid the buckle. Terrible, terrible cold seemed to douse him where he was most sensitive, cock warmed only by warm breaths unnervingly close. Ash risked a peek; his stomach lurched as he saw unnaturally blond hair hovering just before the focal point of his shame.
“Arthur —”
“Lemme give you something he won't,” he said quietly, the usual coldness of his grin warped by the flush on his cheeks. At some point, Arthur had lost his cultivated indifference; Ash only had to look between Arthur’s legs as he knelt down to see the effect this was having on him.
“I meant it. Do it and I will kill you,” Ash growled, unable to keep the horrified tremor from his voice.
“Worth it.”
Arthur leaned forward, and Ash bit his lip as he felt a slow, torturous tongue lick up his shaft.
“Don’t—”
“Pretend it’s him,” Arthur murmured, voice punctuated by lewd slurping sounds as he sucked. Ash could feel every inch as it was tasted, could feel the hot mouth wrapped loosely around him. With a wicked grin, Arthur licked the bead of precum at the tip, eyes fluttering shut as he took Ash into his mouth.
He’s done this before.
Ash’s eyes slammed shut, willing himself not to feel pity while his half-crazed thoughts wondered how, why, Arthur would have done something like this, why Arthur would do so now. Arthur’s mouth was eager and velvet, all tongue and no teeth. It would have been easier if Arthur had threatened him with light nibbling against his flesh, but nothing about the way he swallowed him up, moaning wantonly around the cock filling his mouth, seemed anything but genuine. Arthur shifted his tongue, and Ash let out a low whine of pleasure as he felt his cock slide down the back of Arthur’s throat, the slow bob of his head encouraging him further.
Ash, against his better judgement, allowed himself to indulge. Taking Arthur’s recommendation, he imagined that the hair brushing against his thighs was black rather than bleached platinum, that the lips wrapped around him were full and flushed and devoid of the scar he knew he’d find on Arthur’s lower lip. He imagined that the soft wet sounds between his legs were Eiji, that the rough, calloused hands digging into his thighs were soft and uncertain. He couldn’t bring himself to look down, content to imagine that the eyes looking up at him, gauging his reaction, were mahogany, that they were filled with warmth and mischief rather than the icy malice he knew he’d find instead.
He felt a familiar tingling near the base of his spine, a delicious frisson that wound its way between his legs and turned his breaths into ragged, pleasing gasps.
“Ah—!” Ash hated how his voice sounded like this, weak and desperate, husky with desire he swore he’d never let anyone bear witness to.
The gulping heat around his cock intensified, a rough hand stroking those places where he wasn’t being devoured. Ash felt the impending freefall, could feel the carnal, needy thing nestled within him scream for it even while rationality demanded he abstain.
He imagined a small smile pulling at the corner of Eiji’s mouth and moaned softly as a tongue licked curiously at his slit, as though hoping to coax forth what Ash’s soft, keening cries promised. Just as quickly, he felt impossible tightness envelop him, could imagine seeing the outline of his cock against Eiji’s throat.
“Oh god, I’m sorr—” he gasped before feeling himself come undone, every nerve in his body set ablaze. The world was drenched in blinding white as he felt himself empty into the greedy mouth milking him dry.
He felt a chipped tooth graze the head of his cock as it pulled off of him; the illusion shattered. He looked down to find Arthur — not Eiji, he noted, equal parts bitter and thankful — with a dangerous sneer on his face. His lips twisted strangely, his cheeks slightly full, and a small warning bell resounded in the back of Ash’s mind.
He didn’t swallow.
Before he had time to react, Arthur rose to his feet and spat the contents of his mouth in Ash’s face. Viscous and sticky, he could feel his own shame cooling, dripping down his cheeks and chin. He hung his head, closing his eyes and grimacing as he felt a streak edge dangerously close to his eyelids.
“This look suits you, Ash,” Arthur said softly, the electronic click of a phone shutter snapping him out of his thoughts. He could feel his nostrils flare, could hear Arthur’s quiet chuckle as he went to work fixing Ash’s belt and pants. Arthur’s hands were nimble, and before long the only signs of debauchery present were the criss-crossed gashes on his chest and the bitter white trickling down his face.
“Don’t worry, princess, this one’s for personal use only,” he said, gesturing to the phone tucked in his pocket. He licked at a bead of cum moments before it dripped to the floor, smirking before leaving Ash alone with his blooming guilt.