Chapter 16: The Break Off

Content warning⚠️ : this chapter contains scenes of a non-consensual sex act. Please proceed with caution 🙏

Est

Est couldn't sleep that night.

He lay on his back, staring at the dark ceiling, the memory of their dance hours before replaying in his mind over and over.

It came back in flickering images.

The way Will's hand had pressed low on his back. The heat of his breath against Est's neck. The moment Est had almost— almost— let himself lean in and give up.

Give in.

Then the cold truth hit again, hard, like a slam to the wall.

This man had killed someone.

An unarmed man.

His own father.

Countless others.

Est's stomach twisted each time he remembered.

Who was William, really?

Why did he do it?

Why couldn't Est stop thinking about him?

The questions kept him awake until the dark skies outside turned into dawn.

When morning came, Est quickly showered and got dressed. He checked in for his mom who was also dressing up and picked up Sparkles from the bed, holding her against his chest like a shield, just in case Will tried to get close.

He left the room and walked downstairs.

William was in the kitchen, sitting at the counter with a mug in hand. His face was calm, almost blank, but his eyes locked on Est the second he appeared.

It was sharp, aware.

Like he could see the wall Est was trying to erect between them.

Est forced himself not to care. He tightened his grip on Sparkles and kept away, his posture closed off. Distant.

His mom eventually came down from the room, now fully dressed.

Without hesitation she walked straight to William, and wrapped her arms around him in a quick, warm hug.

William stiffened.

"I'd love to see you again soon." She said softly, still hugging him.

His arms stayed at his sides for a moment, still surprised, before he gave her one small, awkward pat against her back.

He didn't hug back, no. But he didn't pull away either.

She stepped back, smiled, and softly touched his cheek for a moment. "Take care of yourself."

William nodded small.

She gave him a last long look, then turned and followed Est out of the house.

The drive was quiet.

Sparkles curled in his mom's lap, purring softly while she stroked the cat's head with slow, gentle fingers.

Est's hands were tight on the wheel, mind and heart unsteady.

The silence pressed heavier with each mile he drove.

Finally he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Mae?"

"Huh?" She looked over at him.

He kept his eyes on the road. "William and I... we're not dating."

A different kind of quiet settle with his words.

She blinked then, evidently surprised.

Then her face softened into something knowing. "Hmmm.. But from the way you two move around each other, it looks like you both want to be."

"No, Mae." His voice came out a little frantic than he meant. "It's just... it's a misunderstanding."

Another pause. Then she nodded slowly. Est couldn't tell whether she believed him or not.

"Okay..." She said quietly. "But what is he doing in the house?"

Est swallowed a lump. "It's... uhm. It's complicated. You wouldn't understand."

She watched him for a long moment, trying to read the distress behind his expression. "Try me." She insisted.

Est shook his head wearily. "Don't worry, Mae. He'll only be there for a few more days. After that I'll come get Sparkles. We can talk properly then."

She went quiet again.

Her fingers kept moving over Sparkles' fur, but slower now.

"I'm worried." She said finally, voice small. "You're scaring me, Est."

He reached over and wrapped his hand around hers, squeezing softly. "Don't be. I'm okay. I promise."

She didn't answer, that uncertain look still on her face. But she squeezed back.

After that, neither of them spoke again until he pulled up outside her house.

He carried Sparkles inside for her, checked to make sure everything was in order, and she wasn't lacking anything.

She hugged him, longer than usual, and said to him, her voice low and frail. "Be careful.. guard your heart well."

Est felt the weight of her warning, even when she didn't know it herself. He nodded softly, before he turned.

"Call me when you get home..." She said at the door. "Even if it's late."

"I will, Mae."

"I love you, Son."

"I love you too."

With that, he got back in the car and pulled out of her driveway.

But he didn't go home.

Instead he drove into town, into the one place he knew might have all the answers to the never-ending spiral.

He drove to the bookshop.

It was Bonnie's birthday today.

He had the perfect excuse to visit.

Bonnie loved books. She was an honorary member of the booktok community as she frequently joked.

He could buy her a new one— something as bright and fun as was her personality— and while he was there, he knew Tui would be too.

Maybe he could ask all the questions that had been burning holes in his head for a while now.

Who was William?

How did they know each other?

Why did they hate each other?

He parked outside the little shop, climbed out and took a deep breath, looking around. It had been months since he was last here. Looking at it now felt like greeting an old stranger.

He didn't know why, but he didn't feel safe doing this.

Maybe it was because he would finally be confronting Tui for their months apart.

Maybe it was darkness he knew was waiting for him at home.

But he pushed himself forward and opened the door. The bell jingled softly above his head as he walked in.

Tui looked up from the stack of books he was sorting behind the counter. His smile started— warm, automatic.

But then it slowly dropped the second he recognized Est.

His expression turned sour and the eyes behind his glasses narrowed.

Est felt it like a slap to the face. He didn't understand the look on Tui's face.

He expected surprise, then fright.

Not this.

Not anger or contempt.

Maybe he shouldn't have come.

But he forced himself forward anyways.

"Hey, Tui..." He greeted quietly.

Tui looked away and when he spoke, his voice was cold and curt. "What can I get for you?"

Est brows furrowed at him tone, baffled. "Tui?"

Tui still refused to meet his eyes. Cursing under his breath, he turned his head slightly and called towards the back. "Uhm Lila? Can you come take over the counter for a minute?"

A young woman in an apron quickly appeared from behind the shelves, nodding. "Yes, boss."

Tui started moving away from the register like he was in a hurry.

Est's chest tightened. He reached across the counter and caught Tui's wrist gently before he could disappear into the back room.

"Tui!" He called, more firmly now.

Tui froze, jaw steeling. But he didn't say a word.

"You know I was worried about you?" Est asked, voice hurt.

People were already glancing over— quiet customers pretending not to listen.

Tui turned around slowly and stared at him with hard eyes. "Don't cause a scene here."His voice was low, almost a hiss.

Est's throat hurt. "I waited for you. And then I worried. And worried. Until part of me was actually glad you didn't show up. Because it meant you'd be safe." His eyes became glassy. "But now that i'm here looking at you, I can't understand why you're staring at me that way. Why you left me there... with him."

Tui's jaw tightened.

He looked around once, before grabbing Est's arm and pulling him around the counter. Then he led him towards the narrow hallway that led to the tiny office at the back.

He pulled Est in and shut the door behind them.

The room was small.

It had a small desk, one chair, and tall shelves crammed with boxes of novels. It smelled like paper and coffee.

Tui let go of Est's arm and crossed his own over his chest, posture guarded. "What do you want, Est?"

Est was still confused. "I want to know why you never came back. Why you're looking at me like I'm... like I'm nothing." His voice cracked.

Tui didn't answer. Just looked away.

Est's heart crushed at his silence. But he still pushed. He needed to know. "What did he do to you? Why won't you look at me, Tui?"

Tui laughed then, the sound short and bitter. "Because you're a liar?" He said, voice ice. "Maybe it's because you were toying with me— my feelings all along. Meanwhile you were fucking Will." He spat.

The words hit like a splash of cold water. Est blinked, even more confused. "What? Who told you that?" His voice broke.

Tui's harsh stare didn't waver. "Does it matter where I heard it? Isn't it true?"

"No-/" Est shook his head, hot tears already stinging his eyes. "It's not. I mean yes..."

Tui scoffed, the sound heavy with disappointed.

"We had sex once..." Est cried. "But that was before I even met you, Tui."

He paused to steady himself, the well of emotions in him because this wasn't a topic he found easy to talk about. "Before I met you, I was lost..." He explained, voice cracking. "And I was in a really dark place. My partner had just died, and I didn't know how to keep surviving. I just wanted the hurting to stop."

Tui's features softened with slow understanding, his defensive form dropping a little.

"I met someone. And then I met Will. And I... I let him in. And we had sex. Once. Only that one time. That was it." Est kept going, words firm despite his uneven breathing. "I met you after that. And it felt... different. Real. And I wanted to be with you. I was serious about you. But then... I saw something I shouldn't have. And he took me. And now he's in my house. That dangerous man is sleeping under my roof and I don't know what to do. And it scares me, Tui. I'm scared every day." Est broke then.

Tui stepped forward.

Without a word he grabbed Est and pulled him into a tight hug, cupping his head. "I'm sorry..." He whispered against his hair. "I got it all wrong. I'm so sorry, est."

Est's knees went weak. He sagged against Tui, and cried into him, letting the other man hold him up, be a safe space for him to unburden himself.

And for one miserable, aching minute, everything else disappeared.

There was calm now— no doubts or worries or fears. Just the warmth of Tui's arms, the soft stroke of fingers through his hair, the quiet murmurs of his apologies.

Tui pulled back then, just enough to look at him.

Their gazes met, locked and the air suddenly tightened between them.

Est leaned in first. His nose bumped against the frame of Tui's glasses as he kissed him— soft at first, then wet and needy and desperate.

Tui kissed him back just as fervently, absorbing his kisses like he'd missed this— him. Like he'd been starved of this.

Est stumbled back slightly with the force, but he opened his mouth and pulled Tui in deeper, closer.

He needed it— needed this.

Something, anything, to get William out of his head, to make his mind quiet again.

It worked for a moment.

But just that moment.

Then William was back again— taking up every corner in his head. Every nook, every cranny, every memory.

So he kissed Tui harder, fiercer, trying to force his brain back to a sane state.

When they finally broke apart, Tui cupped his face and pressed soft kisses all over it— his cheeks, his closed eyelids, the bridge of his nose— murmuring apologies. "I'm sorry..." Tui said again and again. "I'm so sorry."

Then with a final kiss to his lips that made Est tremble, he guided Est to the lone chair. "I'm going to get you some coffee."

Est nodded his head and placed his hands on his laps though they shook.

Tui noticed, and regrets crossed his face. But he didnt say anything. He just quietly left the room, returning a minute later with a steaming mug.

He handed it to Est, and then knelt in front of him.

His hands settled on Est's knees, rubbing slow, warm circles through the fabric of his jeans.

Est gave him a look of gratitude and took a sip. The coffee was without sugar, just how he'd told him he liked it.

Of course he remembered.

The thoughtfulness made Est warm. He took another sip and set the mug on the table.

Tui leaned in then and hugged him again, arms tight around his waist. "I'm sorry..." He whispered.

"It's okay..." Est said against his neck. "I'm okay."

Tui pulled back a little, eyes searching Est's face. Then he said, voice low, barely there. "What if we run away? Just the two of us?"

Est blinked, stunned. "What?"

"I dunno, we could just up and leave. Move away, somewhere far from here. Far from him."

Est's heart gave a quick, painful flutter as he looked at Tui, the sincerity in his eyes.

Tui was willing to leave his life— leave all of this behind, to protect him from Will.

A small, grateful smile touched his lips and he lifted his hand and stroked Tui's cheek with his thumb. "You're wonderful, Tui."

"I'm serious." Tui pressed.

"I know—" Est cut. "I know. But there's no need..." He said softly. "William— he's better now. He'll leave soon. I'm sure of it."

Tui frowned. "Est... how are you so sure?"

"I am." Est insisted. "I'm sure. If I don't talk, he'll let me go. He knows I won't talk... I have too much to lose."

Tui frowned at the statement, but he didn't say a word.

"For now..." Est continued. "Let's just lay low. I don't want him hurting you."

Tui stared at him, like there was alot he wanted to say. But he exhaled loudly, defeated. "Okay... Okay Est."

He leaned in and kissed Est again— slower this time, gentle. Like he was promising something.

When they broke apart, Est rested his forehead against Tui's. Then he spoke quietly. "Can I ask you something?"

Tui tilted his head, curious. "What?"

"How do... you and Will know each other?"

Tui blinked like he clearly hadn't expected the question. Est waited for his response.

Tui looked away and sighed, making it apparent that this wasn't a topic he broached easily.

Est nudged lightly. "Please... I need to know."

Tui sighed again, and sat back on his heels."My best friend is very close to him."

Best friend?

Could it be?

Est's stomach dropped. "Your best friend?"

"Yeah. Hong. He's—"

"Hong." Est cut in, shoulders slightly sagging with weary vindication.

Tui looked at him strangely. "Yes... Hong. He's my best friend."

A sudden, sharp pain gnawed at his head and Est gripped the arm of the chair— the edges of his vision blurring. Everything started to spin— slow at first, then faster.

For a moment, the room tilted sideways, and the past bled into the present

Tui's brows drew together. "Est? What's wrong?"

Hong.

That same Hong.

The name echoed in his skull, over and over. Est stared at Tui, disoriented, mouth open, but too stunned to speak.

The revelation settled between them, heavy as stone. Est just sat there, heart hammering, while the world kept spinning.

~~~

The past

Hong

Hong was nervous.

His palms were sweaty, his stomach felt like it was full of rocks, and his throat felt too tight.

He sat at the back of the classroom, pretending to copy notes, but really he was just staring at the clock above the whiteboard.

Every tick made his heart jump for valid reasons he couldn't say out loud.

He thought back to earlier, when Becky found him at lunch.

She'd kissed him, and smiled too wide, saying words that made everything go cold.

"Baby, my dad wants to meet you today. After school."

Hong frowned then. "Uhmmm okay... why?"

She shrugged, still smiling that strangely, pleased smile. "He didn't say. He just does."

Hong swallowed, looking down at his half eaten sandwich. "I... I can't today..." He said quickly. "I have stuff."

Becky's eyes had gone soft, pleading. The kind of look that made it impossible to say no. "Baby please? Just for a few hours. It won't take long."

He'd opened his mouth to argue again, but she already leaned in and kissed his cheek in the way that made him go stupid.

Then he didn't have a choice.

He nodded hesistantly.

"Yay!!" She giggled. "See you at the front gate." With another peck, she'd quickly left before he could change his mind.

And that was it.

Now the final bell was ringing.

Hong's heart dropped even further.

He quickly shoved his books into his bag with shaking hands, ignoring the kids laughing and shouting around him. As he walked out the doors, he felt like he was moving in slow motion.

He pulled out his phone as he strode down the hallway, and sent a text, thumbs moving fast.

Hong: when I text you sos, call me and tell me to come over, there was an accident.

Tui: ???

Hong: I'll explain when I get there.

Tui: is it your mom?

Hong: no. Just help me please.

He stared at the screen for what seemed like hours but was probably only a few seconds, waiting.

His shoes squeaked on the tile floor. Lockers slammed around him. Someone bumped his shoulder and muttered an insincere sorry.

Hong barely noticed.

Finally, the text came in.

Tui: okay.

Hong let out a shaky, relieved breath.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and kept walking.

Becky was already at the front doors, waiting for him.

She was in her usual school skirt and white blouse— though it was untucked now. Her long hair tied back with a red ribbon.

When she saw him, her face lit up.

"Hey..." She said, stepping close to him. She quickly kissed him on the lips and laced her fingers with his. "How was your day at school?"

Hong forced a smile, but it felt tight and fake. "Good... good."

They walked outside.

The afternoon sun was warm, but Hong felt cold all over.

"Ready?" Becky asked, tilting her head, smile unmoving.

"Yeah." Hong lied.

She tugged him to the right, away from the main road where most kids waited for the bus or their parents.

Hong let her pull him along.

His phone in his pocket felt hot and heavy, but Hong didnt pull it out— not yet. They walked in total silence for a minute.

Then Becky started talking— about her day, about art class, about Freen's plans to ditch school for a 1D concert happening in town— soft, normal, girly things.

Hong only half listened, his mind racing with each step that drew him closer to Becky's home.

"Freen was so annoying..." She said. "She never listens to anything that isn't the voice in her head."

Hong nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah. She does that."

"And Mr Sataporn is such an asshole. He gave me a C on my essay even though I worked really hard."

"Hmmm."

Her voice stayed calm, light. Unaware.

Like nothing was wrong.

Hong tried to match it. He kept his face relaxed, his steps even. He didn't want her to see how fast his heart was beating.

The school soon faded behind them.

The roads got quieter and the trees grew thicker on both sides— tall pines that blocked most of the sun.

The path to her house cut through a stretch of the forest that led up towards the hills.

Hong had heard the rumors about this area.

About her family.

About the things people whispered when they thought no one was listening.

He swallowed hard.

They were halfway there when he slipped his phone out.

Becky didn't even glance over. She still kept talking, smiling, swinging their joined hands a little enthusiastically.

Hong typed fast, keeping the screen angled away.

A low rumble of a car engine sounded behind them.

Hong: SOS

He was about to hit send when the tires screeched to a stop right in front of them. The driver's door flew open.

Hong looked up when a boy stepped out— tall, about their age, with foreign features, like Becky. He had a sharp jawline, and cold eyes that locked straight on Hong.

He walked straight towards them. And Hong froze.

The boy didn't stop, didn't speak. He just drew his fist back and slammed it into Hong's face.

Pain exploded across the bridge of his nose and Hong heard a small crack. His head snapped back and he stumbled, before dropping hard on his ass on the asphalt.

Blood poured— warm and fast— from the cut in his nose. His ears began to ring and his eyes burned. Everything blurred.

"Will— Will! Stop! Stop! What are you doing?" Becky cried out, voice pitched, panicked. She threw herself between them, pushing at the boy's chest.

The boy— Will— brushed her off like she weighed nothing, and then grabbed the front of Hong's shirt in one fist and yanked him up so their faces were inches apart.

Hong's vision swam, his head dropped back, weightless.

Becky was screaming now, pulling at his wrist. "Will, stop! Let him go!"

Will ignored her.

"Stay away from my sister." William said, voice low, cold. A clear, cut warning.

Then he shoved Hong on the ground again.

Hong landed hard and the air punched out of his lungs.

William turned, grabbed Becky's wrist in a rough grip, and dragged her towards the car. She stumbled, still yelling his name, trying to free herself.

"Will— let go!"

He threw her in the car and slammed the door shut.

The engines roared again and then they were gone in seconds, leaving only dust and the smell of burnt rubber.

Hong stayed on the ground, chest pounding. His nose throbbed and blood dripped onto his school shirt in dark red spots.

His hands shook so bad he almost dropped his phone.

Weakly, he lifted his arm up and wiped his face with his sleeve, smearing blood everywhere. Then he turned on the phone again and hit send.

Hong: SOS.

Then he just sat there in the dirt, breathing hard, staring at the empty road.

Waiting for Tui to call.

~~~

The present.

Est drove home in silence, the three books from Tui's resting on the passenger seat feeling like a death sentence.

But he didn't care about that right now.

Not with Tui's words circling around his head.

Hong was Tui's best friend.

And Will and Hong, they had a complicated history even Tui didn't understand.

But they had history.

And each piece he'd given him only made the picture blurrier.

He knew Hong had fucked him over to Tui.

But why?

Had he lied about him on purpose— to keep him tied to Will forever?

Or had he been trying to shield Tui from something worse?

Est didn't know.

All he knew was his anger burned hotter now, a sharp, ugly thing in his chest.

He thought about Tui then.

His arms around him. The soft apologies. The fierce way he'd had initially refused to let him return home.

The way he refused to let him pay for the books.

That warm but guilty look in his eyes.

Est felt like he didn't deserve any of it— not with the way his heart still tripped over itself whenever Will was near.

Not with this burning confusion that refused to die.

He thought about Will.

About the dead man. The kidnappings. The threats.

The back and forths.

The encouragements. The long walks that made the tension go away. The dance. The feelings that didn't seem to want to go away no matter how hard he pushed.

He decided then he would do the only thing he could.

He would ignore it.

He would pretend. Even if it never went away, he would.

William would leave soon.

And life would go back to something that looked like normal.

Est would give Tui a shot. And rebuild.

Bury the past three months behind him.

He saw things clearer now, as bright as day.

He and Will didn't belong in the same world. He didn't belong in a world of secrets, of danger.

He never had.

He never would.

He pulled into the driveway, killed the engine, and sat there a moment, breathing in his resolve. Then he climbed out of the car, grabbed books and walked towards the door.

When he stepped inside, Will was still in the kitchen.

Exactly where Est had left him that morning.

Six hours ago.

That startled Est.

Had he really sat there, waiting for him like an obsessed, crazy person?

It scared him momentarily.

But then he noticed the fresh sweatshirt on him. And a small relief washed over him.

But Will's voice cut through it, cold and sudden. "Where were you?"

Est blinked at his sharp tone, but he didn't answer. He just started climbing the stairs, books steady by his side. He ignored the heavy footsteps following behind and went straight to the guest room that had become his for the past two months.

He was already closing for the door when a strong arm shot out and blocked it.

Est tried to push but the door shoved open with sheer strength, making him stagger back slightly. William stormed in, expression dark, jaw steel.

Est clenched his jaw, turned away, and dropped the three books on the bed.

Will's burning gaze followed them like they were an insult, a threat.

His eyes flicked from the books to Est's face— his mouth.

Then he saw them.

The lips still faintly swollen and red from Tui's apologetic kisses.

Cold, cold clarity darkened his face.

He grabbed Est's jaw roughly, and forced Est to look at him.

Est shoved his hand away, breathing already harsh. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Where the fuck were you, Est?" Will's voice was low, dangerous.

He already knew.

He just wanted to hear the way Est would lie.

"How is it any of your fucking business?" Est snapped. "I don't belong to you."

William's jaw went razor-sharp.

Without another word he grabbed Est's arms and shoved him down onto the mattress with terrifying strength.

Est tried to fight back.

He struggled— he twisted and turned and kicked.

But he was no match for him.

William was much stronger than he was, heavier. In seconds, he had Est pinned flat on his back, knees bracketing Est's hips, both wrists trapped above Est's head in one iron grip.

Est's breaths came deep and long with exhaustion.

William yanked Est's sweater up and Est froze rigid with fear— the kind of fear that came with the cold, sickening certainty that you were about to be violated.

His face paled with alarm, his eyes widened with dread. His breathing shortened. His heart slammed aggressively against his throat.

And then— for the briefest moment— he wished William would do the unthinkable.

He wished Will would take him, violate him, so he could finally have every reason to hate him.

There would be no more excuses. No more sympathy.

He could rid himself of his growing, confusing feelings. Of the constant, never-ending uncertainty in his gut.

The sweater slid past his chest, past his shoulders, his head— until William bunched the soft fabric behind his head like a makeshift pillow, trapping his arms high and helpless.

"Don't move." William commanded, voice deadly quiet, grip still tight on Est's wrists.

Est heart jumped in his throat.

Dread filled the air.

With his free hand, Will reached behind his back and pulled something. The sharp glint of a small kitchen knife— the smallest one Est owned— caught Est's eye.

Est's full body locked. A small, terrified cry slipped out of him.

The cold blade settled against the side of his throat— not cutting, not yet. Just resting there, weightless but menacing all the same.

Will leaned close, so close Est could feel the heat of his breath against his skin— mint and ice.

Est braced himself for the low threat he knew would come. The words he thought he'd never have to hear.

"If you scream, I'll slit your throat."

"Every mark I leave belongs to me."

"Don't move, or everyone you love dies."

Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, hot and helpless. Regret— heavy, unbearable— settled in his chest.

The past came back to him in flickering pages— each word haunting, a memory he somehow wished he could erase.

He wished he'd stayed with Tui today.

Wished he'd never gone out that night.

Wished he'd never made that call.

Wished he'd stayed burying his pain behind kettle and lighter burns.

But what William said, shattered everything.

"Stop me."

Est flinched. His fear intensified into wary confusion and his body shuddered even harder.

He looked up at him— breath stopping— and saw the daring, almost pleading glint in William's eyes.

Was this a test? He wondered.

Or was William just taunting him, toying with his disadvantage.

Still he was so afraid, he couldn't afford to not give in. "S-s-stop..." He whispered weakly, turning his face away, a stray tear escaping his eyes.

William caught his chin back with the knife, tilting it back lightly, gently, an almost staggering contrast. "No..." He said quietly. "That's not how you stop me." Then firmer, much certain. "You say the word... I don't stop for anything but a safe word."

Est's chest tightened again. His eyes widened, genuinely appalled.

So this was William's game?

The safe word. The one he'd chosen that very first night they met.

Thame.

He wanted Est to say it.

Why?

Est couldn't say it.

He wouldn't. Stubbornness— or fear, or something worse— sealed his mouth shut.

Will waited— eyes sharp, nostrils flaring, inhaling the scent of Est's fear— until the seconds stretched into forever.

After considerable time had passed, he moved.

He freed Est's wrists and his hand lowered to the button of Est jeans, popping it open. Est gasped— stomach clenching— as William dragged the zipper down with slow, deliberate care.

William hummed low in his throat, the fear mixing with his lust a potent blend.

He reached up and placed the small knife between his teeth, the motion slow and careful— not deliberately seductive.

Still, the sight of it sent a sudden, unwelcome gush of heat curling low in Est's stomach.

William's eyes raked over Est's body— the bound, trapped arms, the flushed, exposed, trembling torso, the small peaks of his nipples, the soft curls of hair that led from his abdomen to the band of his underwear.

Reaching down, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of both jeans and boxers and pulled— slow and steady— until the fabric slid past Est's hips, past his thighs, pooling at his knees, trapping him further.

Cold air hit Est's naked skin and goosebumps trailed everywhere.

Est stared up at the ceiling, sucking in heavy, steadying breaths, chest rising and falling hard.

He told himself it would be quick.

That whatever happened next would be fast and brutal and over.

The knife lowered back to his throat, just by his artery, making him freeze and shudder again.

William smiled— slow and wicked— tipping the blade, as it began its slow descent— pointed, sharp.

It lightly, barely traced the line of his collarbone, before sliding down to the center of his chest.

It mapped its path to a pec— feather-light, almost ticklish. Maddening.

Est bit back a moan, head tipping backwards, palm closing around the other above him to ground himself— whether in fright or something else, he couldn't tell.

The blade circled around a tight bud and Est's nipple hardened instantly as a soft, breathy sound escaped him.

William bit his bottom lip lightly, pupil blown wide, as he teased and swirled around the hardened peak. When the knife flicked just slightly across the tip— soft, barely there— Est bit his lip so hard he tasted copper on his tongue.

A low, broken moan tore out anyways, unable to stop himself.

William's eyes darkened at the red on his lip. "Look at you... the mess you made.." He whispered. "So beautiful. So fucking lewd."

His hand moved and the blade drifted to the other nipple, repeating its slow, torturous circle.

Heated flooded and Est's cock twitched despite himself, already half-hard and leaking against his thigh.

William's eyes lowered and he watched, growing feral by the second. They returned back to Est's chest and his fingers slowed against that nip— careful, focused— like Est was a canvas and he was deciding where to stroke.

The knife moved upward then— slow, dangerous— over the skin where Est's frantic, beating heart lay.

It paused there, pointed sharp against his skin. As if considering pressing in.

Est's body stiffened, breaths halting, terrified.

"I can feel your heart racing from here..." Will said softly, almost wondering. "What is it about you, Est? Why does everyone want what's in here?"

Est swallowed tightly. His stomach dropped.

"Why does everyone want it so badly?" Will continued, voice dropping even lower. "Do you think they actually know what they're asking for?" He twisted the blade lightly— not enough to break skin, but just enough to feel a small sting.

Est hissed lightly, body jerking on impulse

Time moved slow. Silence stretched infinitely.

Est waited for the plunge, almost longed for it. Shallow or deep, he didn't care.

He just wanted... waited.

But William didn't give him what he wished for.

Instead, the blade continued its lazy path downwards— skirting over one nipple without touching it this time.

Est's ribs jerked under the tease.

The knife kept going lower.

And lower.

And lower.

William kept up the slow pace— eyes lust laden, hooded, following the knife's trail— mapping its way down, drinking in every hitch, every tremble like it was a potent drug.

Est squirmed, thighs shaking restlessly against its restraints.

His fingers curled against the sheets, his eyes twitched and fogged at the small, almost imperceptible surges of pleasure tingling beneath the blade.

A small, sharp and involuntary sound slipped out when William ghosted below a rib.

Then he paused again.

Est body pulled taut again.

His eyes shut— wanting, afraid— craving the pierce, the pain he knew would somehow blur into pleasure.

William tilted his head, watching Est's unfiltered reaction— the way his eyes locked, the way his parted lips breathed softly, the way his stomach clenched tight.

And raw satisfaction filled his face.

He began again.

Now following the faint line of hair that led below his navel, pausing just above where Est was already aching and leaking.

"Can they make you feel like this?" Will asked quietly. "This exact... helpless little shake you do when I haven't even pressed yet?"

He smiled then— dark, wicked— still not moving. He just let the metal hover there— cold and sharp— while Est writhed beneath it, practically begging for it.

"Do you think they can handle it?" Will continued, voice almost gentle now. "All the things that actually turn you on. The ones you can't say out loud. The ones that make you fall apart this fast."

The knife finally drifted down, skirting the hard flushed cock on his belly, before tracing the inner crease of his thigh.

A low sound tore out of Est— half sigh, half whimper.

William's hand kept moving. Gently, slowly, the knife skimmed its way up Est's ball sack, careful not to pull against the loose, sensitive skin. Then it settled— flat and heavy— along the length of his cock, cold steel against burning skin.

Est gasped— loud, ragged, whole body shaking now. His hips gave tiny, desperate jerks he couldn't seem control.

William stayed perfectly still. Letting the weight of the blade absorb everything.

"Would they even know where to start?" He whispered, pointing the knife again, dragging the pointed steal from base to flushed tip.

Est whimpered softly, uncontrollably. His head twisted against his sweater, his eyes squeezed shut and he moaned again— the sound low and wrecked— almost a cry. Then his hips lifted, inadvertently, nicking himself.

Will gasped, and drew the knife away instantly, eyes wide.

But Est was already cumming, untouched— hard and sudden and violent.

His spine arched off the bed. His cock pulsed over and over, spilling over his stomach in thick, hot stripes, a choked, broken sound tearing out of him.

He shuddered through each uneven wave, body thrashing, until he was empty and wrecked.

When the last tremor faded, he collapsed back, chest rising and falling, stomach sinking, skin flushed and shiny with mist.

His arms felt numb above his head. His lids were heavy and drooping.

Will stared down at him— breaths uneven, eyes wide, stunned, like he hadn't expected this either.

The moment tightened around them, the air suddenly dense with shock— pleasant, unpleasant.

Est stared up at Will from beneath his lashes, the aftershocks gradually melting away, shame taking its place.

William leaned in then, breath warm against Est's face. Then soft, low. "You keep pushing me away..." He said. "But what if they found out, Est?"

Est's breathing hitched.

William went on. "What if they found out the ways you like to be touched? What if they found out you liked heat? Pain? What do you think would happen?"

Est didn't speak.

But his eyes pleaded for an answer anyways.

What? They begged. He needed to know.

"Then they'd have the same look I have right now..." Will answered, voice free of anything.

"And what is that?" Est's voice came out cracked, weak, still unable to read him.

"You scare me, Est..." Will confessed, voice barely a whisper.

Est breath caught again with the admission.

"You're not the only one who's afraid." He finished.

Est swallowed hard, throat knocking his jaw.

The words— they terrified him, more than he could even begin to comprehend. Defeated, he whispered the word— small, barely audible. "Thame."

It landed like a slap to face.

Will's eyes flashed then— with anger, with hurt, something raw and unguarded?

Est couldn't tell.

He could only look.

And he saw William's jaw clenched so tight, he thought it might actually crack.

Without another word, William climbed off him and sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, shoulders rising and falling like he was fighting to keep himself contained.

Est tugged his sweater down with shaking hands. Then he dragged his jeans back up, pulled the sheet over his lower body, not caring about the mess on his stomach.

Silence hung for a while— tense, deadly. A clock ticked quietly somewhere in the house. But in Est's ears, it rang like an alarm bell.

Will straightened eventually, back still turned to him. "I'm leaving tomorrow..." He said, voice back to it's usual cold edge.

Without another word, he stood and walked out of the room.

Est watched the door, then stared at the bed, where the mattress still pressed with his weight. His eyes moved to the small kitchen knife still lying on the bed beside him.

The room suddenly felt too quiet. Too big.

His body felt heavy, yet boneless, strangely hollow. His hands started to tremble, small at first but impossible to stop.

He went into subdrop and chill crept over his skin, sharp enough to make him shiver.

It hit him like a slow, unsteady wave.

His tears slipped out free— quiet, steady— like it was the only thing that could drain him of this heaviness in his chest. He curled onto his side and pulled the sheet tighter, crying into the pillow until exhaustion finally took him.

~~~

That evening, Est dragged himself out of bed like his body weighed twice what it should.

The sheets were tangled around his legs, damp in places from sweat and tears and the mess he hadn't bothered to clean up earlier. His skin felt raw and sticky with dry semen.

But he ignored the irritation.

He peeled the comforter off him and sat on the edge of the mattress for a long minute, staring at the floor.

The small knife was still on the bed where Will had left it— tainted now, taunting.

It made Est's stomach turn. He picked it up with two fingers like it might bite, carried it downstairs to the kitchen, and dropped it into the sink with a clatter.

Then he went straight to the bathroom.

The shower was scalding. He stood under the spray until his skin turned pink, then red, letting the water pound against his shoulders and the back of his neck, as if it could wash away the stain of what he'd let William do to him.

Steam filled the small room.

He washed harshly, trying to rinse away the memory of cold steel, of Will's voice murmuring against his ear, of the way his own body had betrayed him so completely.

When he finally stepped out, the mirror was fogged over. He wiped it clear with his palm and stared at his reflection. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and his lips were still faintly red from Tui's kisses.

He looked wrecked.

He felt even worse.

He dried off, pulled on clean clothes and went into the room. The three books from Tui were on the floor. He'd probably kicked them off when he'd struggled with Will.

He picked them up one by one, and ran his thumb over the covers, looking at them like they'd been witnesses.

Suddenly, giving them to Bonnie felt wrong.

But he reminded himself he was probably being over dramatic.

He found wrapping paper in the hall closet and wrapped each book carefully, folding the corners sharp, taping them neat.

He wrote Bonnie's name on a small white tag in his best handwriting.

He told himself it was for her birthday.

Nothing more.

Downstairs, the house was completely silent.

There was no creak of floorboards upstairs, no low murmur of Will's voice on the phone.

Est wasn't even sure he was in the house.

Est stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, listening, half-expecting Will to appear from the shadows like he always did.

But there was nothing.

He forced himself not to care. Then he grabbed his keys, the wrapped books, and left.

Bonnie's house was only ashort walk away, but it felt longer with the quiet pressing in around him.

When he arrived at the small house, the windows glowed warm yellow from the inside.

Music spilled out— something soft but upbeat. Low laughter followed.

He took a deep breath and knocked.

Bonnie opened the door in a bright yellow sundress, her hair in loose curls, and her face lit up like she'd been waiting just for him.

"Est!" She threw her arms around his neck before he could say anything. "You came!"

He hugged her back— tight, longer than he meant to. She smelled like coffee and fresh laundry and somehow it made him at ease. "Happy Birthday, Bon." He murmured against her shoulder.

"Thank youuuu." She answered with glee, squeezing him tight.

When she broke away, she grabbed his arm, pulling him in. If she noticed the slight swelling around his eyes, the way his smile didn't quite reach them, she didn't show it. "Come in, come in!"

Est followed her in and handed her the books. She took them like they were made of gold.

"These are for me?" Her voice was soft with delight.

"Yeah. I hope you like them."

"Est!" She melted, hugging them to her chest. She hugged him once more in gratitude, then spun towards the living room where a handful of her friends were gathered around a coffee table littered with snacks and half-empty wine glasses.

"Guys, look what Est got me!" She announced, doing a little dance as she waved the wrapped books. "He's the best, right?"

Her friends cooed and clapped.

Est stood there awkwardly, cheeks heating up at being the center of attention. Bonnie returned and linked her arm through his, pulling him inside.

The party was warm and cozy.

Nothing too formal or fancy.

Bonnie's friends were kind— loud in the right way, kind and gentle when it mattered. They talked about everything— the new season of some reality show, office gossip about a boss who'd been caught flirting with the intern, which celebrity was getting canceled.

Est let himself sink into it.

He laughed when they laughed, nodded along to stories.

He even joined in when they started ranking the worst dates they'd ever been on.

But his mind kept straying.

Back to the man in his house.

They played a drinking game— and it brought him back to that night where they'd first had something truly close to a normal conversation.

Est took a long sip of his beer, hoping no one noticed how his hand shook.

Later, they ordered more food— burgers, fries, pizza, chicken wings.

The smell of sauce and spice filled the room instantly.

And as Est stared at his paper plate, he wondered if Will had eaten anything today.

If he was hungry right now.

If he was currently sitting in that kitchen chair somewhere, staring at nothing.

He forced the thought away.

William was a grown man.

He could take care of himself.

Things were better this way.

Easier.

Safer.

Bonnie had noticed him zoning out once or twice and she bumped his shoulder softly. "Hey..."

Est looked up, pulled out from his thoughts.

"You okay?"

Est nodded, though he still looked disoriented. "Yeah... i'm just tired." He lied.

She looked like she didn't believe him. But she didn't push.

When the night wound down and people started leaving, Bonnie said to him. "Stay tonight... Please?"

Est hesitated only a second. But then he smiled and nodded. "Whatever the birthday girl wants."

They ended up on her couch together, a bowl of popcorn between them, re-watching Me and Thee.

Halfway through, Bonnie curled against his side, head on his shoulder and Est didn't pull away. Instead he wrapped an arm around her, taking in some of her warmth.

They laughed at the same scenes again, finished funny lines they already knew by heart, argued about the main leads and side couples.

At some point, they both drifted off to sleep like that— tangled together, warm and safe.

And Est slept better than he had in weeks.

The next morning, Bonnie had to go to work.

She told him to stay, take his time— a knowing look in her eyes.

Est realized he hadn't masked his pain as well as he thought.

She kissed the top of his head before she left, ruffling his hair like he was her little brother.

Est stayed longer than he meant to.

He ate cereal straight from the box while standing in her kitchen. He scrolled through his phone without really seeing anything.

He called his mom, listened to her scolding and ignored her persistent questions about Will.

He sat on Bonnie's porch after that, listening to birds and children skating down the street, letting the sun warm his face.

Around 1:30 in the afternoon, he tidied up and left the house, placing her spare key under the little ceramic pot by the door.

Just as she'd instructed.

Then he started the walk home.

He moved slowly, dragging his steps along the cracked pavements, hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground most of the way.

Occasionally he lifted a hand to wave at the neighbors he recognized or just watch the twins racing each other on their bikes down the sidewalk.

Everything felt ordinary. Strangely peaceful even when his mind wasn't.

Two houses away from his own, he stopped.

There were two black SUVs parked in front of his driveway— the windows tinted and engines rumbling low.

Est heart lurched for reasons he despised. An overwhelming sadness overcame him.

The front door opened then.

And William stepped out.

He looked different now— polished, dangerous again. No more loose, borrowed sweatpants.

He was clad in white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the dark ink of his tattoo visible against the fabric. Below he had on loose, tailored black trousers that made him look casual but elegant.

His hair was no longer in those loose, messy waves Est had grown fond of. Instead it was slicked back, every strand in place.

And now he moved with the same effortless, unbothered but lethal grace Est remembered from the first day he'd been taken.

Dr Aou, along with two other men followed him out. They had broad shoulders and were all dressed casually, though their stances were protective, eyes scanning the street.

One of them, Est recognized.

Pavel. Will's right hand.

Will paused at the door, as if on instinct. He turned and his gaze found Est immediately. But it no longer held concealed fondness that bled out from his steely gaze occasionally.

Now it was completely icy. Cold.

Est stared back, eyes somber. Tired. Aching.

Despite everything— the knife, the threats, the blood, the way Will had broken him open and left him crying— his heart cracked open all over again.

Because even now, even after all of it, part of him still wanted a goodbye.

A real one.

Something soft.

Something that said 'What we had meant something.'

More than just silence, calculated looks and delusions.

He wanted Will to cross the lawn. To stop.

To say something, anything, that wasn't cold.

Will looked at him for a long moment, as if seeing through him.

Then he looked away. Like he was nothing.

He climbed into the back of the SUV and Pavel shut the door behind him with a solid thunk.

The man gave Est an acknowledging look, and Aou gave him a small nod, before they both disappeared into the other car.

The engine roared louder. And both vehicles pulled away from the curb, one after the other.

Est stood frozen on the sidewalk, eyes on the car that carried Will. He watched the taillights until they disappeared around the corner.

Then he walked the last two houses home.

The house looked the same as always— quiet but empty now.

And somehow, that broke his heart.

Est let himself in, and closed the door behind him.

And for the first time in weeks, the silence didn't feel like a threat or a punishment.

This time, it felt like the end.

__________________________________

A/N

I honestly dunno how to feel about Will. Somehow, I feel even worse about Est😭 not like in a judgmental way, but in like an accusatory way— if that makes sense?😅

I hope this chapter was as disturbing as I envisioned. I'd like to hear your thoughts🫶

Anyhoo, our babies are broken up🥲 prep yourself for a few long chapters of LDR, angst and pining.

We'll also get to see more of William and Hong's history.

Next chapter should be out Monday tops. See you then♥︎