There’s a knock at Sam’s bedroom door, and he doesn’t bother to look up from his game. He knows how it’s going to go down, and he’s in absolutely no hurry to speed it along.
Really, sometimes he just likes to make them wait, if only to see what they do. Sometimes they knock again. Sometimes they just wait outside forever. Sometimes--very rarely--the open the door themselves.
Even if his uncle has never said anything, his intentions are obvious enough. He wants a grand-nephew, someone who can carry along the family line. He has no children of his own, his wife dead and buried before she could bare any, and with no one else, his options are Sam or bust.
Sam knows that he’s pretty close to ideal. He’s strong and fit, competent and well trained. However, he’s also not fully Chinese, a fact that severely damages his chances of ever taking over the group himself. A child of his--especially one with a Chinese woman--would have a much better chance of succeeding his uncle.
Sam really doesn’t care. The idea of leading the group has never truly occurred to him, beyond a passing thought of how quickly he could take it over. It sounds like a lot of work, and it sounds like very little fun.
The one outside knocks again, and Sam lets out a little sigh.
“Come in,” he calls, refusing to look up from his game.
The woman outside does, closing the door behind her as she lingers at the door.
Out of the corner of his eye Sam can see them, even with his attention still focused on the game, and in between levels he spares a short glance, just to see what his uncle has sent.
His uncle’s sent a man.
He’s young--easily a decade younger than Sam himself--and looks more Japanese than Chinese. Sam’s first proper impression is naive, largely because the boy’s face is burning red with embarrassment. He can’t even be twenty, if that, and he looks absolutely mortified by the situation.
“Sorry,” the boy mutters under his breath, his eyes falling to the floor.
It takes Sam a few seconds to get it. His uncle has sent almost a half dozen women to visit his bedroom as a reward over the past few months, and since he’s had sex with exactly zero of them, his uncle has apparently decided he’s interested in men.
Well then. Maybe he’s misjudged. He’d assumed the women were strictly because his uncle wanted a grand-nephew, but it seems his uncle also meant them as a real reward.
Sam makes one of his snap, impulsive decisions.
He doesn’t really want women bothering him at all hours of the night just because his uncle wants to reward him. Finding men to throw at him will be harder, and if he rejects the boy at the door, it’ll just loop back around to women.
“What’s the deal he offered you?” He says, setting his game aside as the boy inches closer, standing a few feet from his bed.
He never looks up, his eyes rooted firmly to the floor, his hands twisting and untwisting in front of him. Up close, all of Sam’s initial assumptions remain. He’s probably eighteen or nineteen, young and fit. There’s plenty of muscle peeking out from his sleeves, and Sam wonders if he’s a victim of opportunity, or if his uncle thought that Sam’s type was muscular.
Sam doesn’t really have a type, but he supposes that if he did, it would probably be muscular. He doesn’t really care about the boy in front of him, just like he didn’t care about the women before him, but if he can swing the situation to his advantage, he will. He’s not repulsed by the idea, after all.
“If I...” The boy starts, swallowing down his obvious nerves. “If I sleep with you, he said he wouldn’t go after my parents.”
“Your debt? Or your families?”
Sam’s been in the business for more than a decade, and he knows how these things go. He’s betting family--the boy doesn’t seem the type to wrack up debt on his own.
“My families,” he confirms.
Sam tilts his head, staring up at the boy as he considers. There’s an advantage, but only if he plays it right. He doesn’t want to be bothered in the future with it, so he’ll simply have to establish a situation where he won’t be.
“I’m going to keep you,” Sam says simply. “It isn’t unusual for people to have women on the side. I’ll have to negotiate, but I assume that would cancel your family's debt.”
The boy's face comes up for the first time, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Yes,” Sam says, even though he has no idea what he was going to say. Something predictable like you’d do that for me? or you mean it?. What he was going to say doesn’t really matter anyway.
“But it means you have to do as you’re told,” Sam says firmly. “Whatever that may be.”
The boy is nodding before he’s even finished speaking. Predictable and easy to manipulate--perfect for his needs.
His uncle has handed him a real gift and he doesn’t even know it.
The boys nerves don’t ease up at all when Sam beckons him closer, and even when he’s standing right beside the bed, he looks like he’s going to bolt at any second.
He easily has six inches on Sam, but when Sam catches his wrist and jerks him down onto the bed there’s no real fight in him. He’s big and strong, but he has no skill, no experience. Sam has no doubt he could snap his neck in an instant if he tried, and it makes him comfortable enough to loop an arm around the boy’s shoulders as the boy braces himself against the bed, stooped over Sam.
“Is this your first time with a man?” Sam asks, directly to the point. The blush makes the answer obvious enough--the boy’s back to not looking at him--but he does answer.
It makes sense to Sam that his uncle would care about that sort of thing, but he certainly doesn’t. It’s just like training for him. The boy doesn’t have any good habits he can use, but he doesn’t have any bad habits either.
It also means Sam could do damn well anything he pleases, and the boy wouldn’t be able to say otherwise.
“Kouji,” the boy blurts out, and Sam tilts his head back, his eyebrows raising in confusion.
“My name is Kouji,” the boy explains.
He very clearly expects Sam to introduce himself, but he doesn’t bother. Instead he grabs Kouji by the shoulder, rolling him in one neat movement.
Thankfully the bed is large, because they land just off the center, with Sam straddling Kouji’s hips.
“Do you even like men?” Sam asks, Kouji’s face in full view. He doesn’t care, not really, but it seems like an appropriate thing to ask. It’ll be harder to fake affection if Kouji says no.
Kouji’s answer is obvious in the way he twists his head, refusing to look at him as his blush reaches his ears.
“A bit,” Kouji says quietly.
That makes things much easier, and Sam wastes no time in getting down to business. Without any sort of foreplay or leadup, he simply reaches down, undoing his own pants and shifting around to slide them off.
To his credit, Kouji does try to help. His hands come up, trying to assist as best he can. It’s only once he’s started pulling on Sam’s pants that his hands abruptly jerk back, his eyes fixed to Sam’s stump.
“Your leg-” He blurts out without thinking, as if he somehow thought that Sam’s leg had vanished while he was in the room.
“Ignore it,” Sam simply says, depositing his pants on the floor. He knows he should bother with some kind of leadup, but he doesn’t bother with it. It’s a waste of time and effort, and he doubts Kouji will know the difference.
Kouji’s too busy staring at him to do much thinking.
“Did they send you in empty handed?” Sam asks, firmly expecting the answer to be no. Kouji stares at him for a moment before he snaps out of it, twisting to reach down into the pocket of his own pants and withdrawing a small tube of lube.
“Slide your pants down,” Sam says as he pulls his boxers off, liberally applying lube to his hand before reaching behind himself to press a finger in.
Kouji is staring. There’s no two ways about it, his eyes glued to Sam as the older man works himself open.
“Your pants,” Sam says, snapping Kouji to attention. The young man complies immediately, reaching down to work his pants down.
Sam doesn’t wait for him to get them all the way off. With them around his knees, he’s exposed enough that Sam can do as he pleases. Sam doesn’t pause, using his left hand to reach down, pulling Kouji’s cock free of his underwear and pumping it lightly even he uses his right hand to work himself open.
“You’ve done this before?” Kouji says, his voice breathy and gasping. He sounds like he’s just barely holding it together, and Sam hasn’t even done anything.
“Yes,” Sam says as he pushes in a third finger.
“With another man?”
“Yes,” Sam confirms, scissoring his fingers.
Kouji, to his credit, does make an attempt to join in. He reaches his hand up, wrapping his fingers loosely around Sam’s own half-hard erection, but Sam simply swats him away with his free hand.
“Leave it,” he instructs, and Kouji does.
Sam decides his preparation is good enough, withdrawing his fingers and wiping his hand clear of lube on the sheets--they’re already going to need cleaning anyway--before pushing himself up with both hands, using his arm to support his weight. It takes some angling to line himself up, pressing down carefully.
Kouji actually does help. He reaches down, helping line himself up properly, his other hand flittering about, clearly unsure what to do with it.
“Hand on my thigh,” Sam says, and Kouji hesitantly rests his hand on Sam’s thigh.
It’s a surprisingly easy ride from there. The angle is good, and he’s stretched himself out enough to slide down in one long, careful motion. He can feel his muscles relax as he finally seats himself completely, exhaling as he does.
Kouji’s face is clenched, his focus obvious. His fingers are already starting to dig into the flesh of Sam’s thighs, and the fact that he’s overwhelmed is obvious even to Sam. His stomach is clenching and unclenching with every breath, and his right hand finally releases sam’s thigh, dragging over Sam’s abdomen with surprising gentleness.
Sam takes that as a signal that he’s ready, and wastes no time in rocking his hips. As inexpressive as Sam is, Kouji is doubly so, and his entire body shudders under Sam as he moves.
Sam can’t hold back his curiosity as he rocks his hips again, sliding his hand up Kouji’s torso. He doesn’t look exceedingly muscular, but there’s an obvious strength there just the same.
“Where did you work?” Sam asks, his voice even despite the fact that he punctuates the question with a rock of his hips.
“Huh?” Kouji manages to say, his face red with embarrassment. One hand is still resting on Sam’s right thigh, but the other carefully moves up, loosely wrapping around Sam’s cock. He’s not good at it, but the effort is still there, and stimulation is stimulation.
“Your job?” Sam says, resting his hands just above Kouji’s hips as he uses his arms to lift himself, his leg more for balance as he bounces properly for the first time.
Kouji’s not coherent enough to answer, and the only response Sam gets out of him is a pathetic whine.
He decides to shelve the conversation for later, and opts to bounce instead, picking up speed as he does. It’s easy enough to ride him, and even if Sam’s never cared much for sex, it certainly isn’t bad. Kouji’s firm in all the right places and soft in all the others, and he’s large enough that it feels like a comfortable stretch without actually being painful. He’s also noisy without being loud, and so easy to read that Sam can’t help but watch.
“S-Sir!” Kouji blurts out, and the sound of it is so intoxicating that Sam can feel his dick hardening in response. He knows why he did it--Kouji still doesn’t know his name--but that doesn’t even matter to him.
Sam picks up speed, and Kouji’s fingers dig so tightly into his thigh that Sam’s sure he’ll bruise. He doesn’t even mind, and the sensation of it only spurs him on. Kouji’s other hand is still trying--rather badly--to jerk him off, the feather light touches just enough to finally push Sam over as he cums, slamming himself down on Kouji as he lets out a groan.
He can’t feel Kouji cum, but he can tell he has just by the look on his face and the way his chest rises and falls, his breath coming out in desperate gasps.
Sam slides off him without waiting for the young man to recover, supporting himself on the bed as he ducks into the bathroom to wash up. He isn’t all that surprised when Kouji joins him silently, standing in the doorway as Sam finishes his shower and heads back to the bed.
To Sam’s relief, the game is still paused right where he left it, and he crawls back into bed, unpausing the game and starting to play again.
Not ten minutes later Kouji emerges from the bathroom, timidly hovering at the end of the bed. He seems to be working up the nerve to ask something, but in the end he doesn’t ask at all. Instead he simply crawls into the bed beside Sam, pulling the blankets up over them.
Sam thinks that’s enough, but Kouji goes a step farther, rolling onto his side and looping his arms around Sam’s waist, pulling the smaller man up against him as he nuzzles in.
Sam doesn’t argue. Instead, he simply lays right where he is, working his way through his game without protest.