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“No bruises or any other marks until after Sunday.”
It was the first thing out of Ken's mouth when Takeru opened the apartment door. Fury sparked up immediately.
“The fuck do you think you're—”
Ken thrust forward his phone, open to the Digimental Up!! group chat. Miyako's naming.
[MIYA-CHAN] heyyyy Ken and I are taking Shiori-chan to the beach Sunday, anyone else wanna join us?
[MIYA-CHAN] (the answer is yes)
[DAISUKE] I'm in!!
[HIKARI] I can make it too, let us know where, see you then.
[IORI] I can't; I would like to help Ema with the baby whenever I am off work.
[MIYA-CHAN] I meannnnnn 👀 you should just take little Aina with you and let your wife get some peace and quiet to sleep… It's not like I'd leave you floundering, I've already had a seven month old.
[IORI] Alright. I'll ask her what she prefers.
[TAKERU] :( can't. work assignment out of town
Not true. But it didn't matter. Ken's kid was gonna be there, so Takeru didn't get to go. As infuriating as that was, that was the lone boundary of Ken's he didn't even attempt to cross.
Because he still remembered Ken's eyes the night Shiori was born. How they'd burned with insistent madness when he'd threatened Patamon.
Nothing mattered more than Patamon.
“You're gonna fucking owe me on Monday,” Takeru growled.
“I know,” Ken said. He offered no further resistance as he was yanked inside.
The shrieks of seabirds mingled with the excited peals of laughter from Shiori every time the waves crashed over her head. Ken knelt in the sand behind her, his palms warm and secure on her torso to make sure she didn't topple over. He wore a swim shirt, obviously unwilling to expose the garish scarring on his chest.
Daisuke was frolicking several meters further out. Iori stood tensely, feet planted firmly against the surf with his infant in his arms. Miyako was trying to convince him to relax before she cried, because even babies can tell when you're this stressed, let her hold Aina for once!
Hikari perched on a beach chair and simply watched with a wistful smile. The sun was bright, and all she felt was calm. She finally peeked at the time, and called for everyone to come dry off and eat lunch.
Miyako at last managed to snatch Iori’s child from his arms, and already had the baby giggling. Daisuke crashed through the surf as Ken lifted Shiori up and deposited her on another chair with instructions to dry off with her waiting towel.
“Takeru hasn't been making it to many hangouts lately, huh?” It was an innocuous comment from Iori, but Ken felt his chest tighten.
“I'm honestly kinda worried about him,” Daisuke admitted.
Hikari tilted her head, eyes narrowed as she watched the waves. “Don't worry too much about him for this one. I'm pretty sure he just can't stand being by the ocean.”
Ken tensed. Hikari's gaze turned onto him.
“I'm surprised you're okay with it,” she commented.
A nervous laugh and a shrug. “Aren't you the one who has the most right to want to avoid the beach?”
Hikari shot Ken a brilliant smile, nodding towards Miyako. “Not at all. That ocean will never take me again.”
Ken's own expression softened as he watched his lovingly brash wife. But then his brow furrowed, as his brain caught up with Hikari's words.
She knew Takeru was lying.
[HIKARI] I know you weren't out of town.
[TAKERU] ??
[HIKARI] Yesterday for the beach. You're not actually avoiding the ocean.
[TAKERU] Idk what you're talking about
[HIKARI] We're worried. I'm worried. You've been avoiding us a lot lately. I can't figure out why, but everyone's noticing now. No more bullshit excuses.
[TAKERU] I hate small children. I'll come when there aren't toddlers around.
Hikari didn't reply, which was more damning than anything else she could've said. He shot off a text to Ken to get his whore ass over here when he left work, and then Takeru slammed his phone down on the desk and stalked to the bathroom. He had to get the water running.
His hands were shaking. Fuck Ken. Fuck his ultimatum. Whatever. Takeru grit his teeth and gathered his supplies. Ken was going to pay today.
“You enjoy your precious seaside outing?”
Ken narrowed his eyes, instantly wary at Takeru’s casual tone. “Yes. It was fine.”
Once Ken was inside, Takeru slammed the door shut behind him. He locked and bolted it. “Hm. How nice for you. Bathroom, now.”
It was a command, and Ken did as told. He could practically feel the frustrated rage radiating off Takeru. The bath was filled all the way up to the edge of the tub, and Ken chanced a glance back at his tormentor.
“Well since all the rest of you got to go swimming, I thought let's have our own bit of fun in the water.”
The statement was made with such a bitter glint in Takeru’s gaze, his voice a dead monotone that sent a chill down Ken's spine. But there was something strange about the statement itself…
“You're jealous,” Ken remarked, bewilderment obvious across his face.
Takeru huffed a fake laugh. “Of what? Your stupid little beach trip?”
“Of the company.”
“Please,” Takeru sneered, “like I want to splash around with a toddler.”
“...And you're jealous of her,” Ken remarked, incredulous. It sounded ridiculous, but Takeru's recoiling body language suggested he was right.
“Who, your brat?”
“Because she's my priority, not you. I care more about my daughter than I'll ever do for you. What—what the fuck else did you expect!? She’s my child! And you,” Ken scoffed, “you’re not even my friend.”
Takeru went blank. No expression. No words.
Ken bit his tongue against the litany of apologies that rushed up inside him, because it was already too late.
Takeru was furious.
“Strip. On your knees, beside the bathtub.”
Ken wordlessly obeyed. Takeru wasted no time roping Ken's hands behind his back in a reverse prayer position. He shoved a wad of cloth into Ken's mouth until his lips were stretched wide, then secured the blindfold.
Takeru grabbed Ken by the hair at the nape of his neck and forced him forward until his head was below water. Takeru could feel the sudden panicked tension in Ken's body, his trembling rigidity. Ken jerked away, but Takeru kneeled on Ken's exposed calves and shoved down harder, until the other man's thrashing hit a crescendo.
He yanked Ken up before his struggling weakened. Ken's chest heaved as he coughed and panted in desperation. As he did, Takeru reached his dry hand back and clicked on the waiting cattle prod.
One hand still fisted in Ken's hair, Takeru held the electric prod against Ken's scrotum. Ken flinched, whimpering in fear.
Just as Takeru forced Ken's head back underwater, he pressed the button.
A gargling scream greeted him. Ken's muscles seized up, but stillness ceased almost immediately. He bucked wildly against Takeru’s hold, trying and failing to pull away from the continuing shock to his balls. Ken did, however, manage to thrash so violently that Takeru lost his grip in Ken's hair.
Ken's head shot up, and a half-choked, hacking cough shuddered through him. Tears and snot mingled with the rivulets of water streaming down Ken's face.
He couldn't see and he couldn't say anything, but wild fear showed in every line of his shaking body, in his pathetic attempts to shy away from the touch holding him down and hurting him. The panicked animal noises leaking through the soaked fabric left Takeru achingly hard.
Takeru cut the current and bit back a moan at the mere sight, dropping the cattle prod onto Ken’s calves and at last freeing his cock. He felt better already.
Ken’s hair dripped rivulets across his shuddering back, leaving tracks of water running down all the way to his ass crack. Perfect. Takeru snatched up the prod and ground the contact point hard into that junction of skin.
He activated the electricity flow and savored Ken’s muffled shrieks.
Everything in Ken's head was a blur, a jumble of panic and primal fear and the undeniable urge to flee. But yanking at the cord around his bent-back hands only tore the skin off his wrists. Bucking against the weight on his calves only resulted in another debilitating shock to his testicles that left him writhing and shrieking with the pain. And before he could even think up a way to offer himself up to make it stop, a cruel hand twisted hard into his hair and again forced his head below the water.
If his thoughts were still in words, the litany would be he's going to kill me, he's finally going to kill me.
Another shock between his ass cheeks made Ken heave, his nostrils flaring and sucking in water as bile rose in his restricted throat.
Fuck. He was actually going to die, electrocuted in a bathtub and choking on his own vomit.
Ken's body was yanked back up, tossed against hard tile as he coughed and heaved and gasped for air. His fingers felt thick and tingly, and the pressure of his own weight crushing down onto his hands was painful enough to leave him shuddering with sobs.
The cloth was torn from his mouth without warning, soaked with blood and snot as much as water. Ken shifted onto his side to wretch, spitting up watery saliva as his gag reflex kicked into overdrive.
There was a tug on his scalp, and mere moments after Ken's first full breath of air, Takeru's cock rammed into the back of his spasming throat. His jaw ached, and it took every ounce of willpower not to bite down.
When the blindfold was ripped off, all Ken saw was a blur of colors. Dark spots flashed across his vision, and closing his eyes only led to bizarre neon afterimages.
The haze of bodily panic only receded after the cords binding his hands were cut, instantly replaced with excruciating pain as blood rushed back into his fingers. He shrieked around Takeru's cock, and his tormentor had just enough sense to pull out before Ken's jaw clamped shut.
Takeru watched in concerned fascination as Ken thrashed against the tiled bathroom floor. Several more delirious moments passed. Finally, Ken's violent shuddering faded to weak trembling. He didn't wait for coherency before shoving Ken onto his back and ramming into his ass.
A pathetic cry was the only response. Ken remained limp, staring blindly up at the ceiling and not even twitching when Takeru picked up the pace. It was slightly unnerving, but he finished anyways, and watched with satisfaction as his cum trickled out of Ken's ass once he'd pulled out.
Takeru slid into the tub himself, keeping a close watch on Ken while he relaxed. The broken man eventually curled onto his side, barely shivering as clarity returned to his eyes.
Well. It had been great until Ken became unresponsive.
“Get out when you can move. You can finish making it up to me tomorrow.”
Ken's laugh was hollow. “Nearly drowning me wasn't enough for you?”
No. It would never be enough. He could go play pretend with the other Chosen as much as he liked, but this was what Ken was, really was. A sinner built to suffer. His continuing pain was the only way he could ever atone.
And Takeru would never abandon his duty.
“I thought you liked going for a swim,” Takeru sneered. “And don't be so dramatic, it's not like I was trying to kill you. You're fine.”
What Takeru saw in Ken's eyes chilled his blood. Some inscrutable certainty was in that gaze, and he didn't know what it was about. Only that it disturbed him more than anything else he'd ever seen on Ken's face.