THIRD TIME AROUND by clueless_psycho

At exactly 00.15, the bouncers dragged Fujimiya in, bound and drugged.

“Strip him,” Hirata said, his voice colder than the night air.

The order was carried out in a violent manner. They simply yanked Abyssinian’s coat off, then used his katana to shred his clothes into pieces. His pale skin, scarred in some places, gleamed in the dim of the room. His boots were kicked to the far corner of the room. The drug must be a powerful one, because, although Fujimiya was still conscious, he didn’t seem to be aware of what was done to him. His stare, usually deadly and sharp, was unfocused and he was too weak to fight back.

“Put him on the table,” Hirata gave another command.

The bouncers hauled him on to the pool table and tied his arms and legs into each of the legs. Tight enough to keep him from moving at all. Eagle sprawled now, everything on the front part of Fujimiya’s body were exposed.

Satisfied with the result, Hirata gave a sign by tilting his head to the bouncers to leave the room, leaving the five of them inside: Hirata himself, Crawford and two of Hirata’s cronies plus Fujimiya on the pool table.

Hirata leaned over the pool table, examining Fujimiya carefully. “Now, it’s easy to just kill him, isn’t it,” he said, a cunning tone glazed his voice. “I’d say, let’s do something fun first so at least he’d die happily.”

Hirata turned to his three guests as if asking for an offer, but Crawford knew that the mafia boss already had something in his mind.

“Let’s give him a nice handjob,” an evil grin tugged at the corner of Hirata’s lips. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy it very much. He looks so… gay to me, he’ll love getting it from a man.”

Hirata’s gaze now shifted from one face to another of his guests and stopped at Crawford’s. “Would you mind?” he asked. “No, please don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I thought you’d enjoy it as well. But you have such strong hands, I’m sure he’d like it.” Hirata winked. “If you know what I mean.”

“I know,” Crawford simply said, and got faint sighs of relief from the other two.

Hirata gave him an appreciative smile. “Good, I know you’re a real professional.”

Crawford moved to the pool table, standing at Fujimiya’s side, across from Hirata. Hirata fished something out of his jacket pocket and threw it to Crawford. “Just to keep your hands clean,” he said. It was a pair of surgical gloves, still sealed inside a plastic bag.

Crawford tore the plastic bag open and slid the gloves in his hands. Ready now, he stared down at Fujimiya, who looked back with heavily lidded amethyst eyes, blinking weakly. Fujimiya was breathing in short rasps and he’s perspiring, most probably as the effect of the drug.

Still staring at Fujimiya’s eyes, Crawford started by touching the inside of his left thigh. Fujimiya jerked a bit, but judging from the way his eyes rolled in a suspicious way, Crawford knew that it was purely physical reaction. His brain still didn’t register what was being done on the skin.

“Pretty sensitive, isn’t he?” commented Hirata, his face still stern and serious. “I’d say, skip the foreplay and give him the main course, ‘coz we don’t have all night.”

Without saying anything, Crawford took Fujimiya’s sex in his gloved fingers. Again, Fujimiya jerked, but the bound kept his back on the green velvet of the table. Crawford started stroking him loosely, slowly and the Abyssinian gasped.

Hirata smiled satisfactorily, the other two nervously. Crawford kept the cold expression on his face.

Muscles tensing was the first reaction as first pangs of pleasure spread all over his body. Fujimiya tugged on to the bound sharply, trying to break free but failed miserably. He balled his fists tightly as a mean to hold on himself, but as the pumping proceeded further and pleasure pooled in his groin, he relaxed and surrendered completely. Excite had taken over his body, winning over his senses. He was panting heavily as his sex grew thicker and heavier in Crawford’s hand. Faint moans and writhes and whimpers escaped his parted, dry lips, which he licked from time to time. He was sweating as much as he was weeping precome, trickling between Crawford’s fingers, down to his balls and the velvet cover. He trashed his head from left to right, sometimes arched his head although rather painfully. His face had turned a shade of red to match his exciting sex.

Crawford kept the pace slow and his stare at Fujimiya’s face, feeling heat rising from Fujimiya’s slick skin, smelling of rose. Fujimiya’s hard sex had become hotter and hotter in his hand and he shifted his hips uneasily as an alternate attempt to satisfy himself. Crawford knew Fujimiya wanted to thrust into his fist, but again, the bound prevented him from doing so. He grew more and more desperate and Crawford didn’t change his pace until the word slipped Fujimiya’s dry lips almost inaudibly, ”Faster...”

“Might as well give him his last wish, right?” Hirata said, his voice cracked but Crawford couldn’t be bothered to find out whether he was coming in his pants or not.

Crawford stroked faster, spreading the thick, sticky precome all over Fujimiya’s length. No more resistance from Fujimiya, it had never been there anyway. Fujimiya moaned loudly. He closed his eyes and soon tears trickled down his cheeks. Pleasure had become unbearable, mixing with pain now, but he clearly wanted this to last forever, if his body could handle it. But they didn’t have all night, and Crawford had other thing to do, so when he knew Fujimiya was in the brink already, he rubbed his thumb across the slit hard. He backed away quick enough so that none of Fujimiya’s seed, spurting forcefully from the slit, hit him.

It took some time for Fujimiya to calm down from the shock, so did Hirata and the other two. Hirata sighed heavily, not noticing Crawford peeling the gloves off.

“That’s a good show,” he said, slipping his hand inside his jacket to get his gun hidden there. “Now let me do the ho…”

He didn’t finish his words, his head parted from his body already as a katana sliced through the air and through his neck. His two cronies fell with him, their heads rolled on the floor as well.

Crawford used Hirata’s handkerchief to wipe their blood from Fujimiya’s katana. He then used the katana to cut the bound and released Fujimiya. Abyssinian was still weak, he slumped in Crawford’s arms when Crawford moved him from the pool table. Crawford put his leather coat and boots on, then hauled him to the window.

The meeting was held in the library of Hirata’s mansion, which was on the ground floor, so sneaking Fujimiya out was not a big problem. Crawford wore black suit that night to conceal himself in the dark from the bouncers, who were swarming the garden. He managed to reach his car safely, although slowly, dragging a weak and half conscious Fujimiya with him. He shoved Fujimiya on the backseat of his black BMW and put the katana, now sheathed, on the floor.

The guards at the gate did not even turn their head twice at the sight of Crawford’s car passing the gate, recognizing the car to belong to one of Hirata’s guests. Even if they finally found a beheaded Hirata and his cronies later, they wouldn’t think Crawford as the killer.

The drive back to downtown Tokyo was spent in silence. The only sounds around them were the faint sound of engine, their breaths and heartbeats. Crawford glanced at the rearview mirror from time to time to check on Fujimiya. He was sleeping, although looked uneasy, his breathing even. Beads of sweat still wetted his face and his hair damp, but other than that, he seemed to be okay.

The Koneko was only a couple of miles away when Crawford’s ear caught Fujimiya’s murmur,”Inn.”

Crawford swerved the car.

The reception at the inn didn’t bat an eyelashes to see Crawford entering, half dragging Fujimiya. Key and money changed hands in lightning speed and soon they were inside the sanctuary of the inn room.

Crawford kicked his shoes off and helped Fujimiya taking his coat and boots off. He dumped Fujimiya on the futon. When after several moments Fujimiya didn’t shift nor open his eyes, Crawford got up to find the complimentary yukata. A tug on the hem of his jacket stopped him. Crawford turned to see a pair of amethyst eyes gaze dazedly at him.

“Strip,” Fujimiya whispered. Looked like the effect of the drug had finally worn off, although still left him weak and a bit unfocused.

Crawford obeyed, starting by lifting his hand to take his glasses off.

“Keep them,” Fujimiya said. Crawford tilted his head, he was not used of having sex or sleeping with his glasses on. But a glance at Fujimiya’s eyes and he kept the glassed perching on top of his nose. He proceeded to take his clothes off.

“Lay here,” Fujimiya said, indicating the futon, when Crawford was completely naked. Again, Crawford obeyed, he lied with his back flat on the futon, next to Fujimiya.

It took sometime until Fujimiya finally moved. He crawled to the heap of Crawford’s clothes and pulled his tie. Back to Crawford, he climbed on Crawford’s tummy. “Hands,” he said.

Crawford have him both his hands and Fujimiya bound them together with the tie. He then pushed Crawford’s hands above his head, whispering, ”Keep them there.”

Fujimiya slid down and settled himself between Crawford’s legs, shifting them apart wide enough to give him room.

“I have spare gloves in my pocket,” Crawford said.

Fujimiya looked down, staring at Crawford’s cock before lifting his face again and said, “No, that’s too easy for you.”

Fujimiya started by feeling Crawford’s cock with the tip of his fingers slowly, gaze fixated on the sex. Crawford sighed and relaxed, submitting himself to the feel of Fujimiya’s fingers and the pleasure it triggered. Fujimiya fondled his balls and circled the base of his cock and it came to life, sending sparks all over Crawford’s skin. Crawford shifted a bit to get more comfortable. Fujimiya closed his fingers around the half hard length and began stroking.

Crawford sighed again, but that was all he did to let Fujimiya that he was excited. He refused to groan or gasp, but letting his breath to hitch sometimes. Fujimiya stroked him as if absentmindedly, not aware of any reaction he could cause by moving his fingers up and down nor care of Crawford’s fight over his own self control. Crawford knew that Abyssinian only wanted to torture him as a revenge of what he had done before and while he didn’t mind that, he also wouldn’t give up to his enemy so easily.

Fujimiya suddenly stroked faster and squeezed his cock, already painful, a bit. Crawford managed to bit his lower lips first and restrained himself from arching his back. He shifted his legs apart wider, a sign for Fujimiya to go on and do whatever he wished.

Fujimiya finally lifted his face again and looked at Crawford in the eyes. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked, his voice low and deep and cracked.

*No.* “Yes,” Crawford replied.

Slowing his hand down, Fujimiya asked again, “How do you want me?”

Crawford blinked twice and decided, “Bareback.”

Still stroking him, Fujimiya used his teeth to release the bound. His cock twitched as a protest when Fujimiya’s hand left him. Ignoring the pain, Crawford moved and helped Fujimiya positioning himself on the futon. He took his glasses off and hugged the redhead, chest pressing back, arms wrapped around Fujimiya’s waist and cock at the cleft between his butts. Fujimiya shuddered. Crawford whispered in his ear, “We don’t have to do this.”

Fujimiya bit his lower lips for some moments, blinking his eyes as if trying to recall what he was going to say. “I want to do this, I want to forget what you have done to me before.”

“You sure? No turning back?” Crawford slicked his fingers with fluid dripping from Fujimiya’s hardening sex, wondering for a moment when did Fujimiya start to harden again.

“Shut the fuck up, Crawford, just.fuck.me,” Fujimiya hissed through gritted teeth.

He yelped when Crawford shoved two fingers together inside him. Without giving him time to adjust, Crawford went about preparing Fujimiya, fighting the resistance of the tight ring muscle until they opened up with a sigh of relief slipping Fujimiya’s lips. Passage opened now, he pushed his way in. Fujimiya gasped sharply, but when Crawford was completely inside, he took one of Crawford’s hands and guided it to his own sex.

Crawford let Fujimiya set the pace, fast and hard and he knew a bit painful. With sheer effort, he ignored all the feelings of being inside a tight, hot hole that was so good, constricting around his aching cock. He concentrated on giving Fujimiya all the pleasure, or pain, he wanted, although he didn’t know how it could replace the memory of what he had done previously in Fujimiya’s head. But if that was what Fujimiya wanted, that’s what he would get.

And thanks gods, it didn’t last forever. Fujimiya’s orgasm took Crawford by surprise and he came forcefully inside him, as Fujimiya’s semen flooding his fingers. They fell together on the futon, breathing together, calming together.

Fujimiya moved first, releasing himself from Crawford. Crawford slammed his back on the futon again, sighing, almost jumped when Fujimiya suddenly straddled him, leaned down and claimed his mouth. Crawford parted his lips to protest and Fujimiya took the chance to slip his tongue in, ravishing inside Crawford’s mouth brutally. Crawford retaliated by sucking on Fujimiya’s tongue as violently.

A purring sound at the back of Fujimiya’s throat broke the spell. Crawford flipped them around, claiming the upper hand, Fujimiya’s legs tight around his waist, their genitals pressed together. Fujimiya rocked their hips together, Crawford deepened the kiss, both genitals growing hard at the arousal. When Fujimiya lifted his legs higher, before he could stop himself, Crawford already plunged deep and thrust hard.

* * *

Crawford woke up at the feeling of something heavy sprawling along his back. It was Fujimiya, sleeping soundly, face buried in his hair, hands tucked under his chest. There was no way Crawford could move without waking him up. So Crawford went back to sleep.

When he woke up a couple of hours later, Fujimiya had gone, taking one of the yukatas with him, also his coat, his boots and his katana.

Gone as well his disturbing vision, however, this time, Crawford didn’t feel relieved at all.

* * *

~end~