COLD HEART in TOKYO: Chapter 18

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When Kusuda peeled the clinging man off him and sat up, the bed let out a groaning creak. Two adult men on a semi-double… it was pushing things to the limit.

Sunlight spilled in through the window, dazzlingly bright. No wonder—it was already past eight. The air had that vaguely overcast heaviness, despite it being what should’ve been a fresh morning. His body was damp with sweat. Kusuda climbed out of bed and hurried into the bathroom. The hot shower cascading over his head felt like it was washing everything away—refreshing and cleansing.

His mouth felt a little sore. Akizawa was big—he couldn’t take all of it in, and just sucking it had left his lips worn out. Putting a guy’s dick in your mouth—what kind of punishment game is that? Kusuda had always thought of it as the final line he could never cross as a man, something on par with full-on sex, and had refused again and again. But four days ago, trying to comfort the devastated Akizawa after getting dropped from the drama, he had—for the first time in his life—licked a man’s genitals. He’d intended it to be a one-time thing, but ever since, he was asked for it almost nightly with a pleading “Will you lick it?”

Yesterday, he’d given in to the relentless request and reluctantly took him into his mouth. Akizawa, wild with excitement from the blowjob, had stripped Kusuda naked and returned the favor, licking him all over with far more enthusiasm than Kusuda had ever shown.

With a loud bang, the bathroom door flung open, and before he could stop him, Akizawa barged in. It wasn’t a unit bath, but even so, it was ridiculously cramped with two men inside.

“Wait your turn,” Kusuda said.

“No.”

It was too much effort to kick him out, so he ignored him and continued showering. From behind, Akizawa wrapped his arms around him. He knew that if he played along and showed affection, Kusuda wouldn’t resist and would let him do as he pleased—but the constant clinginess was exhausting.

“Cut it out. I’ll be late for work.”

“Just let me touch you a little, okay?”

He figured that resisting would only make things messier again, so he let Akizawa do as he pleased. After about ten minutes of clinging, he finally seemed satisfied and stopped.

Because of the affection that led nowhere and didn’t even fill his stomach, Kusuda ran out of time for toast. He finished getting ready for work, and by then, Akizawa had started getting dressed too. Ever since he started staying over all the time, he’d begun leaving not just underwear but whole outfits, so Kusuda had reluctantly cleared a corner of the closet for him.

“You heading out too?”

Akizawa’s shooting schedule had been cleared after getting dropped from the drama.

“I’m going to the agency. I’ve almost finished the ring I was working on.”

He spoke through a small yawn. Since his outburst in the office archive room, Akizawa had been calm.

“Well, hang in there. I won’t be at the office this morning though.”

“Huh? Why not?” Akizawa turned around sharply.

“I’ve got fieldwork, so I’m going straight there.”

Akizawa’s disappointment was obvious. “Will you be back by lunch?” he asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah. I’ve got desk work in the afternoon.”

“Then let’s have lunch together. I’ll wait for you.”

The way he said it—so tentative and endearing—made him look almost cute, despite being a guy. Kusuda smiled and said, “Sure.” Immediately, he was pulled into a hug.

“Kiss me.”

Akizawa said it dead seriously.

“Make it feel like you’re madly in love with me.”

What the hell kind of request is that? Kusuda thought. Still, if he didn’t go along with it, Akizawa would sulk. So annoying, he thought as he lazily pressed their lips together.

“That’s what a ‘madly in love’ kiss feels like to you?”

Akizawa looked dissatisfied.

“These things vary from person to person.”

When Kusuda tried to play it off, Akizawa immediately pointed out, “There’s no feeling in it.”

Left with no choice, he kissed him again. When he experimentally parted Akizawa’s lips, the man’s breath grew heavy with excitement—this is bad, Kusuda thought, but it was already too late.

The kiss that he had initiated was soon taken over by Akizawa, who started sucking on him with that same sticky, overbearing intensity that had become all too familiar. And then he even tried to take off Kusuda’s tie. Kusuda stopped him firmly, and, fed up, gave Akizawa a swat on the ass as he left the apartment.

Kusuda changed trains along the way, and from the platform he saw Akizawa still standing by the door of the train, watching him like an abandoned dog. It tugged at his heart—but he told himself, Get a grip. He’s a grown man.

At 10 a.m., he visited Miyako Entertainment. Numata was apparently on the phone, so Kusuda was shown to the reception room first. That suited him just fine—he wanted a moment to collect himself. It wasn’t like I was doing indecent things with your son until this morning was written on his face, but still, meeting face to face was undeniably awkward. Still, since they were business partners, avoiding him forever wasn’t an option.

He sipped the tea he’d been served, silently repeating stay calm, stay calm to himself, when Numata entered the room.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, especially after you came all this way,” he said with a deep bow.

“No, not at all—I had other business out of the office this morning anyway.”

Numata’s expression was grim. Kusuda had suspected as much ever since he’d gotten an email the previous day asking to talk—but as expected, it was about Akizawa. Out of the drama’s ten episodes, his appearances would end after episode five… essentially, he’d been dropped.

Kusuda had already heard the story from Akizawa on the very day it happened. Apparently, Numata had also heard about it that day, but had taken time to double-check everything, hoping there had been some mistake—which delayed the follow-up.

Akizawa hadn’t been told, but CRUX had actually planned to supply some of the accessories for the drama’s final episodes. Through Numata’s connections, Kusuda had been introduced to the stylist in charge of Akizawa’s wardrobe, and they had arranged to feature several CRUX pieces that would match his costumes. The stylist had liked CRUX’s products and said they suited the character’s image well, so everything had been going smoothly—until Akizawa’s sudden removal from the cast caused the entire plan to collapse.

“This whole situation is just infuriating,” Numata said, uncharacteristically letting out a complaint in front of Kusuda.

“Akizawa’s done absolutely nothing wrong. The production was delayed because of the lead actor’s schedule, so the entire script had already been completed. For his scenes to be wiped out at this point? That’s just not how things are done. Sometimes scripts get revised if the ratings tank, but Beyond Us wasn’t exactly groundbreaking, but it wasn’t doing poorly either. The production’s in chaos, and now that Akizawa’s gone, the actress playing his girlfriend, Maruyama Hina, has had her screen time drastically reduced as well. From what I’ve heard, her side is already protesting to the producers.”

It wasn’t just a matter of Akizawa losing a few scenes—this was turning into a full-blown mess. And if even Numata, who was closer to the situation, found the script changes unnatural, then maybe… just maybe, some other force had interfered behind the scenes.

“If this doesn’t ring any bells, feel free to ignore it,” Kusuda began. “But… Akizawa said he was dropped from the drama because of a director named Domon Yoichi…”

Numata looked sharply at Kusuda, then let out a heavy sigh.

“…Back when Akizawa was in high school, he had a clash with Director Domon and ended up being dropped from a film. After that, offers for movies and dramas stopped coming. Even roles he’d already been cast in got canceled at the last minute a few times. There were even producers who hinted they’d been pressured by ‘someone’ not to use him. But we never had concrete proof… It’s been years since then. I don’t want to believe someone would still be holding a grudge like this…”

He paused, then continued with a note of relief in his voice.

“As for the film he’s scheduled to appear in—there hasn’t been any talk of him being dropped. Domon used to have a lot of pull in the industry, but his recent films haven’t done well at the box office. Beyond Us happened to be produced by F Network, where Domon directed a drama long ago, so he probably had easier access to meddle there. But the film is with Toyuu Studios, so I think we’re safe.”

Kusuda had always thought the director interference theory was just Akizawa’s paranoia. Learning that it might actually be true was even more shocking. The entertainment world was terrifying. Masamitsu often grumbled that the accessory industry had its share of shady stories too, but this was another level.

“Actually…” Numata began, his tone suddenly heavier.

Kusuda instinctively braced himself—was there something worse?

“We haven’t been able to contact Akizawa since the day before yesterday.”

Kusuda almost thought it was a joke, but Numata’s face was dead serious. Now that he thought about it, just the other day, Akizawa had been complaining that his smartphone kept dying and wouldn’t hold a charge.

“He’s been coming to our office every day,” Kusuda said. “Since the drama got canceled and he’s had free time, he said he wanted to finish the ring he was working on.”

Numata looked completely taken aback for a moment, like a pigeon hit by a pea shooter. Then he let out a relieved chuckle.

“So that’s where he’s been.”

“His phone’s not connecting, and he hasn’t gone back to his apartment… When I heard he got dropped from the drama, I couldn’t help worrying that he might be thinking something stupid. But if he’s with you at CRUX, that’s a relief. He’s a moody, introverted guy, but since he started working with you, he’s really calmed down a lot.”

Kusuda thought: If this is him calm, I don’t even want to imagine how he used to be. He decided not to pursue that line of thought.

They made small talk for a while longer, and around 10 a.m., Kusuda left Miyako Entertainment.

About a fifteen-minute walk later, he arrived at Tohru’s office. They had decided to create a postcard book for the spring campaign using unused shots from the posters and novelties. But Kusuda wasn’t confident in his own sense of design, so he’d asked Tohru if he could help select which photos to use. Tohru had agreed, but asked what kind of postcard book Kusuda had in mind. So Kusuda had gone to the printer to get some samples and brought them over. He could’ve mailed them, but since he already had a meeting at Akizawa’s agency, he figured he might as well bring them in person.

He’d hoped to catch Tohru, but—just as expected—he wasn’t in. The office manager, Kurokawa, who handled Tohru’s scheduling, was grumbling with thinly veiled irritation that ever since Tohru won a photography award overseas, work requests had tripled.

Kurokawa was tall and handsome, but had a gloomy aura and wasn’t very friendly. His aloofness was so intense that every time Kusuda saw him, he wondered if he was personally disliked—and it made him nervous.

Tohru once mentioned, “Kurokawa eats sweets like a girl,” so Kusuda figured he didn’t hate sweet things. As a kind of peace offering, he started bringing confections whenever he visited the office. Eventually, this habit paid off: Kurokawa began greeting him with a smile. When Kusuda once joked, “You used to scare me a little at first,” Kurokawa apologized, saying, “Sorry, I’m just shy around people.”

These days, he even served Kusuda tea when he visited. When Kusuda mentioned this to Tohru, he snapped, “He’s never once made tea for me,” clearly offended.

“CRUX’s poster is getting a great response, isn’t it?”

Like CRUX’s office, Tohru’s office also had a reception area within the main workspace. Kusuda had only come by to drop off samples, but Kurokawa offered him the sofa and served tea and sweets. Tohru wasn’t in today, and apparently the other photographer who co-managed the office was also away on a shoot in Kyushu, so it was just the two of them.

“We’re grateful. Tohru always gives us the friends-and-family rate, so I feel bad, but also thankful…”

“No need to worry about that. He basically only does jobs he wants to do.”

Kusuda had always suspected it, but Kurokawa seemed pretty blunt even toward the office’s star earner, Tohru.

“The actor in the poster—isn’t he in that drama?”

Of course, Akizawa had been dropped from that drama five days ago, but Kusuda didn’t see the need to go into detail. He just smiled and replied, “Yes, that’s right.”

“But things must be hectic. The lead actor got injured, right?”

Kusuda blinked. The lead actor? Injured?

“Wait, the lead got hurt?”

“You didn’t know?” Kurokawa tilted his head.

“I saw it in a news article online. Apparently, the lead actor hurt his eye during filming and had to undergo emergency surgery.”

“I see… I hadn’t heard.”

He let the moment pass, but the moment he left Tohru’s office, Kusuda took out his phone and searched it up. The accident involving Muneishi was front-page news. According to the article, he had fallen during filming and struck his face, resulting in an eye injury. The severity was unclear, but if surgery was involved, he wasn’t going to be back on set in a day or two.

The production had already been running on a razor-thin schedule. Kusuda felt bad for Muneishi, and wondered what would happen from here—but at the same time, thought, Well… it’s no longer our concern, and pocketed his phone.

He returned to the office before noon, but Akizawa was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, he was up in the workshop on the fourth floor, learning from Masamitsu. When Kusuda mentioned to Miyamoto that it looked like Muneishi had been injured, she nodded—she’d already seen the news.

“Actually, there’s something else I wanted to tell you…” she said, her tone suddenly serious.

“What is it?”

“Remember that abusive email Akizawa-san got the other day? I don’t normally do this kind of thing, but I couldn’t shake it—so I contacted our system provider and asked them to trace the IP address. And we tracked it down to a building.”

Kusuda stared. “You’re kidding…”

“It’s a mixed-use building with offices and shops from the first to the seventh floor. And one of them is Domon Yoichi’s personal office.”

Kusuda couldn’t help it—the words came out of his mouth. “You’ve gotta be kidding…”

“It’s possible the message came from somewhere else in that building, but… I don’t know. It seems suspicious, doesn’t it?”

After discussing it together, they decided to keep the matter of Domon to themselves. The news about Muneishi’s injury, too—they would leave it be until it reached Akizawa naturally. It had nothing to do with him anymore, and Kusuda doubted he’d want to hear that the drama he was dropped from was now a mess. If it became necessary, Numata would probably be the one to tell him.

The day felt saturated with unpleasant news, leaving Kusuda unsettled. Still, Akizawa had said they should have lunch together, so he waited at the office until around two—but Akizawa never came downstairs. When he went up to check on him in the workshop, he found Akizawa hunched over his work, completely absorbed. The way he was moving made it clear he wouldn’t hear a thing around him. Seeing that, Kusuda figured it was better to just leave him be and went out to eat alone.

At six p.m., after wrapping up his work, Kusuda peeked into the workshop again. Akizawa was still at it, meticulously tinkering away. Wondering whether he’d even eaten anything, Kusuda asked one of the employees. Apparently, Masamitsu had given him some bread, which he’d been munching while working. That mental image made Kusuda chuckle a little.

In the end, Kusuda went back to the apartment alone. He had a convenience store bento for dinner, took a bath, and set up a beer and some snacks on the table before putting on a DVD.

Lately, whenever he had spare time, he found himself watching the DVDs that Numata had burned for him last year—shows and dramas that featured Akizawa. Whether it was comedy or a serious social drama, even in bit parts, Akizawa always stood out. The one Kusuda was watching now was a family drama Akizawa had been in at age fourteen. The lead was an aging veteran actor, and Akizawa played the grandson taken in by him after his parents died in an accident. An old-school, stern grandfather and a sullen teen grandson who couldn’t express himself honestly.

Akizawa didn’t rely on dialogue—he used glances, subtle body movements to convey the complicated emotions of adolescence. Kusuda always intended to watch casually, but before he knew it, he’d get pulled into the world Akizawa created. During one shoot visit, a staff member had once whispered, “He’s so good, he makes the lead fade into the background.” And they were right. Even as a side character, Akizawa drew more attention than necessary. He lingered in memory—not because he tried to, but because he was born to be a leading man.

Watching him on screen—expressing the raw messiness of human nature yet somehow glowing with a divine presence—Kusuda found himself thinking: Maybe it’s weird to say this, but… I was spellbound.

If he were just a regular fan, it would have been easier. He could’ve idolized Akizawa as a genius actor, elevated him in his mind as someone from another world and kept his distance.

Because reality’s Akizawa was awful. Self-centered, spoiled, annoyingly pervy. Sure, he was cute sometimes—but hard to handle.

Maybe because he hadn’t been drinking lately, the alcohol hit him fast. Just a beer and he passed out on the sofa.

...He stirred as a suffocating weight pressed down on him, like layered blankets piled over his body. Awareness came crashing back all at once—someone’s on top of me. Warmth slowly seeped into him. That sweet scent, like gardenias—Akizawa.

He wasn’t just heavy—he was clinging tightly. Kusuda endured it for a while, but eventually it became too much. Fully awake now, he pushed the man off and sat up halfway.

“You really do love me, huh.”

Kusuda blinked at the sudden comment, wondering what he was on about—then noticed that the television was still on, and young Akizawa was on the screen. He’d fallen asleep with the DVD still playing.

“You were cute back then,” Kusuda said.

“And now?”

Akizawa leaned in against him like a cat. If he didn’t give the answer the guy wanted, he’d probably sulk—so Kusuda gave in and replied, “Still are.”

Akizawa let out a smug little “Hehe,” then pulled Kusuda in close and guided him to sit between his legs. He took Kusuda’s left hand and slipped something onto his ring finger. A ring.

“I finally finished it.”

Akizawa sounded proud of himself. The ring had a simple shape, but its surface rippled with delicate wave-like textures, and on closer inspection, there were tiny patterns worked into the design.

“You did a good job,” Kusuda said.

He couldn’t help but think back to that utterly hopeless sketch Akizawa had made while trying to draft the ring—he really had come a long way.

“I’m giving it to you, Masahiko.”

He usually just said you, so being called by name this time caught Kusuda off guard.

“It’s the first one you made. You should keep it—for the memory.”

When Kusuda started to slip the ring off, Akizawa gently pressed his hand down.

“I want to see it on your finger.”

The line was theatrical—almost laughably so. And yet, for some reason, Kusuda couldn’t laugh.

From behind, Akizawa wrapped his arms around him tightly. He’d done this same thing so many times before, but tonight… it made Kusuda feel oddly unsettled.

“It’s like an engagement ring, isn’t it?”

Whispering at his ear, Akizawa’s fingers—surprisingly nimble—slipped past the waistband of Kusuda’s sweats. They traced lightly over the bulge in his groin before reaching deeper. When his fingers touched that tight entrance, Kusuda’s voice cracked.

“H-Hey!”

“Let me do it here.”

His voice was so sweet it sent a chill down Kusuda’s spine.

“No way. Absolutely not.”

“Just my finger, I promise. If even that’s too much, I’ll give up.”

“Even a finger sounds painful…”

As they spoke, Akizawa’s finger began to press against that spot. It felt like it might slip in at any moment, and that scared him.

“I—I do like you, but I don’t want that kind of relationship.”

“What kind of relationship?”

“I mean… that—putting things in and out and stuff…”

Saying it so directly was too embarrassing. His voice trailed off.

“I want to be connected to you.”

Akizawa said it without hesitation.

“I want to be connected to you here, Masahiko. I want to make love to you… I know we can do it.”

Calling him by his given name, slipping the ring onto his finger—Akizawa was closing in, building a mood that surrounded Kusuda like a trap. He was serious. The way his finger steadily pressed with growing pressure down there scared Kusuda, and he tried to forcibly pull the hand out from under his sweats.

But Akizawa gave him a sharp little smack on the back of the hand, as if scolding him, then grabbed his left wrist. He brought Kusuda’s hand up to his face and, like a polite gentleman, kissed the ring. His eyes were wet as he looked up at him.

“Because I love you, let me love you. I think I’ve held back long enough. So just for tonight… Masahiko, I want you to hold back a little—for me.”

He had let Akizawa believe he had feelings for him—and never corrected the misunderstanding. No, he couldn’t. Because Akizawa was the kind of person you couldn’t betray once he placed his trust in you.

Kissing, touching each other’s genitals, even licking each other—those were still within Kusuda’s limits. You could call it extreme petting, maybe. But connecting their bodies—that was something he absolutely didn’t want.

It wasn’t an organ meant for that in the first place, and as a man, it felt like crossing a line he could never return from.

His mind was spiraling into chaos. Logic didn’t matter anymore. He was scared. There was no way something that big could fit inside. He didn’t want it. Absolutely not.

“I’ll be gentle. I won’t hurt you.”

Kusuda couldn’t come up with a single reason to push the man off. While he hesitated, Akizawa cupped his head and devoured his mouth with rough, consuming hunger.

The thought of being penetrated was absolutely unbearable. But he couldn’t present any clear, definitive reason to reject Akizawa—and Akizawa’s desire was far, far stronger than Kusuda’s resistance.

“I swear I won’t hurt you.”

On the bed, Akizawa kept kissing him, stroking his hair gently, trying in every way to coax Kusuda into agreeing. But Kusuda firmly shook his head and refused.

“It’ll hurt. I don’t want to.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to.”

They went in circles like that, again and again, until finally, Akizawa snapped—face flushed red, he shouted:

“You don’t know it’ll hurt if you haven’t even tried!”

“Don’t start freaking out about pain before we’ve even done it—complain after it happens!”

After a long back-and-forth, Kusuda was left with no choice but to allow the insertion of a finger.

He had already decided that no matter how little it hurt, he was going to yell, “It hurts, it hurts!” the moment it went in. As he watched Akizawa pour lotion into his palm, full of resentment, the younger man shot him a warning:

“Don’t say it hurts if it doesn’t.”

“As if I’d do something like that,” Kusuda replied, deadpan.

His voice trembled. Akizawa muttered, “Yeah, sure,” then gave a clear command: “Lie on your back and bend your knees.”

Kusuda didn’t want to obey the orders of some perverted bastard who wouldn’t be satisfied until he shoved something into someone’s ass—but grudgingly, he lay back and raised his knees.

“Spread your legs.”

A wave of intense shame washed over him, and he felt on the verge of tears. Being treated like a woman like this—it made his skin crawl. Clenching his teeth, he forced himself to open his legs, taking the position of someone about to receive a man.

His body trembled.

He covered his eyes with both hands, bracing for the impact. When he felt the wet, cold touch against that tight entrance, a choked sound slipped from his throat—“Hghk.”

“I’ve only touched it,” Akizawa said.

With a detached tone, Akizawa began spreading the lotion in slow, circular motions around the tight entrance. Kusuda had already braced himself, ready for that moment to come at any time—yet despite all his earlier yelling about “let me do it,” Akizawa now seemed content just to stroke him with desperate, needy touches.

Each time he pressed lightly there, just enough to make it feel like it was about to open, Kusuda’s body flinched in fear—only for the finger to veer away again.

“The hell are you doing?!” he snapped.

He couldn’t stand the mean-spiritedness of it all—it was like a cat toying with a weakened mouse.

“Just… foreplay,” Akizawa said blandly.

“You’re just rubbing the same spot over and over.”

“You’re scared, so I’m taking it slow. Helping you get used to it.”

Kusuda didn’t want any of this, yet found himself thinking that if it was going to happen anyway, he wished he’d just get it over with. A contradiction he hated himself for.

As he kept rubbing that tightly clenched spot, Akizawa climbed on top of Kusuda, who was still lying on his back, and nuzzled his cheek against him in a cloying, affectionate way. His hot body pressed down heavily, his breath ragged against Kusuda’s ear. The strands of Akizawa’s hair tickled his nose, and before he could stop it, Kusuda let out a sudden sneeze—“K’tchu!”

“Ah—sorry,” he murmured.

Even though he hadn’t done anything wrong, Kusuda reflexively apologized. Akizawa narrowed his eyes and said, “Your sneeze was cute,” then rubbed his nose against Kusuda’s like a puppy. He really is just like a dog, Kusuda thought—right before he was suddenly kissed.

It was a hard, hungry kiss that left him gasping for air, his chin tilting upward—and at that exact moment, the place that had been teased endlessly was suddenly filled with a soft pop. Ugh— He squeezed his eyes shut, but the pain he’d braced for didn’t come. Still, the sensation of something entering was undeniably unpleasant. The mental image of someone else’s finger inside his body made it worse.

He wanted to say it hurt, but his mouth was sealed, unable to speak. He tried to turn his head to break the kiss, but Akizawa held it in place with his left hand, leaving him pinned. While he struggled above, the finger pushed in deeper with a firm, slow motion. It began to move, sliding in and out. He could feel it. His lower jaw trembled uncontrollably. No, no… I don’t want this.

His whole body gave a sharp, twitching shudder. What is that…? Before he could figure it out, it came again—his body shook involuntarily. Akizawa had found something inside him—something dangerous. Seriously… this is bad.

Kusuda tried to twist his hips away, but couldn’t escape. That same spot was rubbed over and over, mercilessly. The motion grew more intense, and Kusuda gasped, his chest heaving.

Finally, the kiss broke. Eyes brimming with tears, Kusuda turned his head and shook it, whispering, “I don’t want this.”

“What is it you don’t want?”

“Your finger… ah—!”

Akizawa ground into that spot from the inside, and Kusuda’s back arched sharply in a deep curve.

“It feels good when I rub you in there, doesn’t it? Otherwise, your body wouldn’t react like this.”

Akizawa gripped Kusuda’s erect penis with his left hand. The triumphant look on his sharp-featured face made Kusuda feel a flash of murderous rage. He glared at him with such intensity, he was ready to bite if Akizawa said one more word.

Then, just like that, the finger that had been inside him slid out with a wet, slurp. After all that relentless pressure, it ended almost too easily—like it had all been a lie.

The tension drained from Kusuda’s body in a rush. His entrance, after being teased for so long, now tingled with a numb, unfamiliar sensation. It was a part of himself he’d never even been conscious of before.

Suddenly, his legs were lifted high—both at once—and just as he realized something was off, he felt something hard pressing against that strange, tingling place.

"...Huh?"

He couldn’t resist it—something there slowly spread open. Something big. Wait a second. That...

Masahiko Kusuda forcibly raised his upper body. But all he could see was his own erect penis.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

He shouted—but in that moment, something shoved its way in, hard.

“Ow—i-it hurts!”

There was no way that was a finger. They’d promised—only fingers. He’d never said that could go in.

“No—no, stop it, I said stop…”

Kusuda’s voice was completely ignored. It kept pushing in, inch by inch. It felt like a stick was being forced in between his legs, and it hurt. His breath grew shallow on its own, tears welled up in his eyes. This wasn’t right. There was no way Akizawa’s penis could fit. If something like that was shoved in, he’d definitely tear. He was scared. So scared. He didn’t want this.

“Just stop already!”

He cried out, half in tears. Suddenly, the angle of it shifted with a sickening grind, and the shock and pain made Kusuda gasp.

“Does it hurt?”

He nodded, trembling.

“Then hold on to me and breathe slowly.”

Guided by the voice, he wrapped his arms around the back of the very man who was hurting him, gasping for breath, trying to steady himself.

"Right now, mine’s inside you, Masahiko."

A thick, sticky whisper spilled against his ear.

"All the way in, to the base. It’s hot… and it feels so good."

Still unable to make sense of it, Kusuda shook his head. This was insane. There was no way this could work. Please—just get out already.

“You said you didn’t want it, Masahiko, but your body’s letting me in just fine.”

His lips were licked, then kissed. Even though he could barely breathe, he was being kissed, and his head began to swim.

“Feels like you’ve gotten used to mine, so I’m gonna move a little.”

It slid out with a slick, dragging motion, and the strange sensation inside—something like the urge to expel—made him want to block it out. But it stopped halfway.

The next moment, it slammed back in with force.

“Hiaaahh!”

The shock tore through him all the way to his skull, a dull pain spreading deep inside. His eyes instantly brimmed with tears, and this time it wasn’t just fear—his voice came out, raw and real: “It hurts.”

“It hurts?”

He nodded. That thing, pushed in so deep, began to drag back out, scraping along his insides with a sickening slide.

“I put a lot of lube on mine, so…”

Akizawa was saying something, but Kusuda didn’t have the will to respond. He ignored it—until the wet, sticky zuchu sound came, and it was pushed in again.

No way. He’d said it hurt. So why wouldn’t he stop?

“The pain’s gotten a little better, hasn’t it? You keep saying it hurts, Masahiko, but it’s not like you’re too tight for me to move, and there’s no blood either.”

That… wasn’t the point at all.

“Guess I put on a bit too much. It’s all sloppy now.”

As if anticipating Kusuda’s protest, Akizawa kissed him. And while keeping his mouth covered, he began to thrust his hips back and forth. The added lube had dulled the pain somewhat, but it didn’t change the sheer weight of what was inside him. The pressure was overwhelming, and every time it scraped against his insides, it felt suffocating.

He was pinned down, his legs forced open like a woman’s, and violated. The promise hadn’t even been kept. It was the worst. He just wanted to die.

Akizawa’s hips began to move faster, and after a few hard thrusts upward, his body trembled. He’d probably finished. With a sigh, Akizawa buried his face in Kusuda’s neck and murmured, “That felt so good.”

Fury surged through him. Trembling with rage, Kusuda smacked the traitor’s back with all the strength he could muster.

“That hurt, Masahiko.”

Akizawa lifted his upper body, and the place where they were still connected let out a sticky guchu sound. Kusuda slowly scooted back, inch by inch. The sensation of Akizawa’s penis slipping out made his skin crawl—he couldn’t bear it, couldn’t just break that connection all at once. Even when it finally came out, the spot that had been pushed and shaken so relentlessly was still numb, still tingling like it was somehow still inside him.

Akizawa, unfazed, removed the condom with practiced ease, tied off the end, and wrapped it in a tissue. Just watching him do that made Kusuda’s skin crawl. He turned over and pressed his face into the sheets.

“Masahiko.”

Even when called, he didn’t answer. I’m never speaking to him again. He kept ignoring it—until suddenly, Akizawa threw himself on top of him. The weight was solid, heavy.

“Get off! You’re heavy, damn it!”

He shouted, only to be pulled into a tight hug from behind.

“I’m sorry… I know you said you didn’t want to, and I still did it.”

Even with that sweet, coaxing voice, there was no way he could forgive him.

“Was it too much toward the end? You were soft here.”

His penis was suddenly gripped, and he sucked in a breath.

“Don’t touch me!”

“But you haven’t come yet, right? It’s okay to feel good.”

He didn’t want to feel anything—but the way he was touched, hitting all the right spots, made him grow hard again.

...Infuriating.

"You know, tonight... I just really wanted to be connected with you, Masahiko. At first, I was making the ring for myself, actually. But somewhere along the way, I wanted to give it to you instead, so I changed the size. I even measured your ring finger while you were sleeping.”

...Come to think of it, the size had been a perfect fit.

“If you were a girl, Masahiko, I would’ve proposed to you. Even if we can’t get married, I just… I wanted to really make love to you. That’s why I was so happy you let me in. This was the first time I’ve ever had sex that felt this happy.”

Kusuda swallowed hard.

“I used to think sex felt the same no matter who it was with—but being with someone you love, it’s completely different. Sure, it feels good physically, but more than that… it makes your heart feel full. I didn’t know it could make me this happy.”

“Thank you”, he whispered softly against Kusuda’s ear—and it stabbed somewhere deep inside his chest.

The promise had been broken. He’d been forced, taken without consent, his pride crushed, and left in pain… He was the victim here. So why did he have to feel guilty?

The truth was, he didn’t even like this guy. He was only going along with it because it made things easier for work. He wasn’t serious about him, not at all—so then why…

Caught between the shame and the pleasure, everything inside his chest twisted into a mess, and he came—spilling into someone else’s hand. The moment Akizawa moved off of him, Kusuda pulled the blanket close and yanked it over his head. This was wrong. He was wrong right now.

He shouldn’t have kissed him, shouldn’t have acted like he cared when he didn’t. You don’t do that with someone you don’t even like. But what else was he supposed to do when Akizawa was losing control, raging like a madman in that hotel room? How else could he have calmed him down?

There was a sharp rip—the sound of plastic tearing. When Kusuda lifted the blanket, he saw Akizawa sliding a condom onto his erect length. Their eyes met, and Akizawa, looking a little bashful and awkward, hunched his shoulders and said, “Don’t look… it’s embarrassing.”

“When I smelled you, Masahiko… I just got turned on.”

The erection wasn’t the issue. The problem was why he was putting on a condom. As Akizawa crept closer, lightly swaying that rubber-covered thing, his eyes looked completely unhinged.

Kusuda tried to get off the bed, to escape—but before he could, he was tackled from behind. Something hard pressed against his lower back.

He tried to shake Akizawa off and scrambled forward on all fours, but his ankle was grabbed—and he was dragged back.

“Make me happy.”

His hips were seized, yanked backward—and at the same moment, a dull shock hit him. That spot, already numbed, was buzzing with sensation again.

No way… not again… you’ve got to be kidding.

He tried to crawl forward, to break the connection, but his waist was pulled back, and it sank deep inside with a heavy, echoing thud.

“Ahh—!”

A strange sound escaped him. The thing inside pulled back with a slick zuzu, then slammed in again with force.

“Hiih—!”

His elbows gave out, sending his upper body down while his hips remained lifted, thrust upward. Again, it dragged out of him, and another jolt tore through his body.

“Haa...”

Having something that big pushed inside hurt. But... it didn’t hurt as much as before. It still throbbed, but not unbearably so. Why…?

“Does it feel better deeper inside?”

Kusuda shook his head.

“Liar. You are feeling it, aren’t you?”

He was struck with small, rapid thrusts deep inside. Kusuda’s body twitched uncontrollably, a tingling ache spreading through him like a wave, until even his fingertips prickled.

“Ah… ah… ah…”

Soft, broken moans slipped from his lips one after another. Something was wrong with his body.

“Stop—ah…”

Trying to do something—anything—about the aching deep inside, Kusuda twisted his back.

“Ah… nn…”

Behind him, Akizawa whispered, “So sexy.”

“So that’s what you sound like when you feel good, Masahiko… So cute.”

A sweet, slurred voice—so unlike anything a professional actor should be using—spilled right into his ears, and his heart gave a loud, startled thump. He was pulled into an embrace so tight it felt like their bodies might fuse, while that deep place inside him was rocked again and again.

“Ah… ah… haa… nn… ah… ah…”

He couldn’t stop moaning like some AV actress. His own voice didn’t even sound like his—it felt like someone else’s entirely. And Akizawa, like an idiot, just kept whispering over and over at his ear, “Cute, so cute…”

“Does it really feel that good, getting hit deep from behind?”

“N-no…”

He tried to protest, but just one hard thrust upward made his hips collapse, all the strength draining from his body in an instant. Akizawa chuckled softly.

“Amazing. You’re totally melting from mine.”

“No… it’s not… not like that…”

Even as he kept denying it, he was pulled into a tight embrace.

“Why do you keep saying it’s not? I’m so happy seeing you feel good, Masahiko.”

He didn’t want to admit it. If he admitted that he was feeling anything from something this one-sided… if he acknowledged that—

What would happen to him?

Akizawa’s movements suddenly grew rougher. With every thrust upward, Kusuda’s body jolted, trembling all over.

He’d never wanted this. This was supposed to be something awful. And yet, his cock was flushed red, already leaking at the tip. When Akizawa gripped it tight, a surge shot through him like electricity, setting his whole body alight.

His knees shook. He couldn’t breathe. It… it felt good. So good, it felt like he might die.

“Y-yeah… it’s good… it’s…”

Jerked off roughly, Kusuda writhed in tears. The pleasure twisted through him in waves, coursing through every inch of his body, leaving his head fuzzy and light, like he was drunk. The pounding in his hips, the relentless stroke of his cock—those were the only sensations left. Everything else faded away.

Even though it felt so good—even though he hadn’t finished yet—the hand stroking him suddenly let go. He wanted more. He needed more.

He crouched down low, trying to rub the tip against the sheets, but it didn’t work. Reaching down with his right hand to touch himself, he was caught just before he could. His wrist was seized—then his left wrist too—and both were pinned above his head.

And in that helpless position, Akizawa thrust into him again and again. It felt good. But that alone wasn’t enough. He wanted to be touched in front, too. He wanted to be stroked.

“…No—don’t… ah…”

Half-crying, Kusuda shook his head.

“What don’t you want? Doesn’t it feel good?”

“…T-touch me…”

The movement that had been rocking him suddenly stopped.

“Say that again.”

It hit him—he’d just begged to be touched, pleaded for it—and a burning heat rushed through his whole body. His back was already hot, but the man pressing against it was even hotter. Akizawa leaned in close, stacked over him, and murmured, “C’mon… say it,” as he bit down on Kusuda’s earlobe.

“Hi-ah!” Kusuda cried out.

“If you don’t say it, I won’t touch you.”

He was being cruel. It was humiliating. He didn’t want to say it. …But—everything had felt so good, one thing after another, piling on until his mind was slipping, until he just wanted more and more. More of that pleasure. The boundary of shame was vanishing.

It was embarrassing… but he wanted to be touched. He wanted to be touched and to feel good.

And besides, it was just the two of them. No one else was there. No matter how filthy the things he said, no one would hear. The words would just echo briefly—and disappear.

“…Touch me.”

A shiver ran through him at the shameful request slipping from his own mouth.

“How do you want me to touch you?”

“Grip it… stroke it…”

“You want me to grip you, stroke you… while I pound deep inside you? Is that what’ll make you feel good?”

Kusuda nodded, trembling all over.

Just like he’d asked, his crotch was touched—his whole sac gripped tight—and for a second he thought he might stop breathing. When that large hand began to knead and stroke him upward, it felt so good his vision went completely white. A deep ripple surged through his body, stealing his breath.

“If you want more… kiss me.”

There was no hesitation. He twisted his neck awkwardly and kissed Akizawa behind him, devouring those lips in a desperate, feverish kiss. The sensation of release built higher and higher—he was so close—and then, as he was being stroked, Akizawa thrust up hard.

His breath caught, and his vision exploded in white.

An overwhelming tremble took hold—unlike anything he’d ever felt before—and in the flood of pleasure, Kusuda forgot to breathe…

…and lost consciousness.

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