In a Battle Royale duel, a duelist can join in on a match already in progress, but must pay a penalty to do so. Why should the rules of the Championship be any different?
"A penalty?" Shingo Sawatari asked dubiously, brows furrowed together in consternation. He'd been thrown for a loop and it showed clearly on his face for but a moment before he masked it, sweeping his hair back from across his forehead. "What, to my Life Points or somethin'? Fine, I don't even need 'em to be—"
Reiji Akaba interrupted, turning in his chair to stare Shingo down, fingers steepled together in front of him. "No. A different kind of penalty."
Again Shingo faltered a little, waiting for an explanation. Their families had been close for years, he had no reason not to trust Reiji, but the look on the CEO's face seemed to border on predatory and it made him slightly nervous. The pause grew heavy in the air between them until Reiji finally rose, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger before approaching Shingo where he stood. Their proximity only made him even more uncomfortable, but he stood his ground.
Reiji considered him, then inexplicably began unwinding the impossibly long scarf from around his neck, slinging it over his shoulder. "Turn around," he ordered, succinct as ever.
"Eh? What're you gettin' at?" Shingo asked, more confused now than wary.
"Sawatari."
That caught his attention; he knew Reiji wouldn't ask him twice. The CEO might tolerate his backtalk more than most, but the prospect of reentering the tournament compelled him to shut up and just do as Reiji asked. "Alright, alright, whatever you say," he said, waving one hand dismissively. So Shingo turned and exposed his back, prepared to comment on the strangeness of the request until he felt a firm hand grip his right wrist and yank it behind him.
It startled him enough that he yelped, jerking forward and almost stumbling as he lost his balance. He would have fallen face-first if not for the strong arm encircling his waist – Reiji's, obviously – trapping Shingo briefly against the CEO's body. A light huff of warm breath on the back of his neck was the only indication of Reiji's annoyance before his voice was there in Shingo's ear, a raspy whisper. "I think you know what your penalty is, Sawatari."
Shingo went still and squeaked out a small "Oh." He knew. The Sawatari family relied quite heavily on the Akabas; they had more than enough influence to place his father in a position of some political power, but repayment was expected. He knew this, and perhaps his father wasn't aware of how deep that debt ran between the two, but Reiji would always make a point of bringing it up when it would benefit him. He was ruthlessly opportunistic. Reluctantly, Shingo forced himself to relax.
Once he was stilled, Reiji continued, releasing Shingo's waist before tugging both arms behind the boy, pinning them to the small of his back. When he felt soft, luxurious fabric circle his wrists he realized his arms were being bound with the scarf. As the knot tightened the loose end of the scarf was looped about Shingo's neck once; Reiji tugged lightly to lessen the slack then knotted the end around his wrists a second time. It was uncomfortable, not enough to choke him – so long as he didn't move his arms too much – but he guessed that was the point.
Reiji's hands went around his body again and this time traced their way up Shingo's sides to his chest in a way that made him shudder. He was under the CEO's control entirely, manipulated to turn around and face him. Reiji traced one finger down Shingo's jawline, stopping just under his chin to angle his head upward, then leaned down until their lips met. He was rough, biting the younger boy's lower lip to encourage him to reciprocate. Shingo gave in to his touches until he felt one hand ghost down between their bodies and across his groin. Weakly he whined into Reiji's mouth and pulled backward; he was allowed this reprieve, at least, and the kiss was broken.
Reiji stepped backward to admire his work and the faintest of smiles played on his lips – a rare occurrence for him. "I rather like you looking this way," he said, cocking his head. A blush crept across Shingo's face and he bit the inside of his cheek. It was humiliating. "Yeah. I'm sure you do."
"That mouth of yours will get you in trouble, Sawatari," Reiji answered, grabbing the fringes of Shingo's coat and guiding him downward. Once his head was level with Reiji's chest he seemed to get the idea and sunk to his knees, his cheek forced into the crease of the other boy's pants. There was hesitation on his end as he seemed uncertain how to proceed. Shingo glanced upward, peering through his now disheveled bangs.
"Err, you might need to—"
"No," Reiji interjected again, eying Shingo's bindings. "With your mouth."
Shingo hesitated as it was degrading, it made him feel like an animal, when they both knew he needed this, needed the chance to join the Championship again. His face went an even brighter shade of red as he fished for Reiji's zipper with his teeth, forced to mash his face into his groin before he caught it and tugged it down to the end of its track. He was aware of how closely he was being watched as he struggled awkwardly with the pants' button; Reiji always liked watching him squirm.
When finally the button was undone Shingo grabbed a mouthful of fabric and pulled down, repeating the process twice, for both pants and underwear until they were bunched around Reiji's thighs. Shingo obstinately shut his eyes and accepted Reiji in his mouth as he felt fingers entwine roughly in his hair and tug. They had an audience – the staff were still in the room after all – and yet some part of him wound up tightly with the idea.
Reiji finally allowed himself a slight sigh of pleasure as he watched the way Shingo's head bobbed up and down on him, taking his penalty in stride.
"Consider yourself back in the Championship, Mr. Sawatari.."