Caged Slave (MewGulf AU)

🌞Chapter 1🌻

🌞🌻

Gulf Kanawut sat all alone at the hotel bar counter as the night deepened outside. He stared at the untouched glass of bourbon in front of him. It was rapidly growing watery and pale. As he watched the ice cubes melt, he wondered what it would take to fill the emptiness inside him.

'When will I stop picking losers,' he thought. The strains of Eric Satie melody sluggishly spiraled throughout the room and deepened Gulf's feeling of gloom.

For one entire year, happiness had been within his grasp. But a month earlier, the man Gulf thought he was in love with had dumped him, choosing to further his career by marrying the only daughter of the company president.

"Men are only good for sex," he had told Gulf at the end. "Go out and find someone new. Maybe he can warm up that frigid ass of yours."

Gulf had been about to run after his lover, but the cruel words had stopped him short, breaking over him like a cold shower.

No matter how hard Gulf tried, he just couldn't make himself feel any pleasure from anal sex. His lover had tormented and bullied Gulf about it up until the day they had parted.

And yet Gulf had to admit that he had known from the beginning that this man, who had treated him so cruelly and unfeelingly, had felt no love for him. Gulf's feelings had been true, but to his lover, he had been nothing more than an outlet for improper desires, a piece of ass that presented no risk of pregnancy and wouldn't pressure him for marriage.

'I tried so damned hard to like it,' came the tortuous thought.

Gulf had pretended not to notice his lover's true nature simply because he hadn't wanted to see it.

'I'm such an idiot.'

It had been years since Gulf, in the first blush of adolescene, had realized that he only felt desire for his own sex. Now, at almost 25, he wondered why he found himself on the same situation over and over again.

Sighing, he brushed aside his bangs. His profile looked delicate in its sorrow. Thick long eyelashes, bambi-shape eyes, tall nose and a beautifully full lips. Anyone looking at him would have wondered how someone so exquisitely beautiful could have such rotten luck with men.

But no matter how much it hurt, how much he cried, there was nothing Gulf could do---he simply lacked judgement when it came to men. A lot of them were drawn to his looks, so why was it that he only chose the losers who used and abandoned him?

Generalizing things by saying "I only pick losers," couldn't even begin to contain the hurt he had suffered and which, even now, refused to leave him.

The man who had most recently dumped Gulf had been his boss. When they had separated, Gulf had found himself devastated and not wanting to see the man ever again. But things had only gotten worse, he had been demoted to a pointless, dead-end job that he hated. His personal and professional lives being destroyed in one blow left Gulf bereft, empty, and uninteresred in his meaningless existence. Who could blame him for trying to block out his pain by patrolling the city at night, desperately craving for human touch?

But nothing brought him any satisfaction. Once he had stopped by Shinjuku's gay quarter, but not finding anyone interesting, he had found himself chasing away the men who had approached him one after another. It seemed like nothing good would ever happen to him again. Gulf longed to be healed, but was too cowardly to accept one night of comfort in a stranger's arms. Yet, the thought of being alone was unbearable and so he had stumbled into this hotel in the middle of the night. He now haunted the bar counter and cursed himself for his stupidity. No way would a guy walk into a big fancy hotel like this and try to pick him up.

'I guess I should just go home,' he thought to himself. 'I've got to be at work at five in the morning.'

Then Gulf realized that it was Friday night. Back when he still cared about his job, he hadn't minded working on weekends. Now his two days of rest were nothing more than a vast expanse of time, empty of a lover who might lend it meaning.

'There's no point in going back to my room alone,' he decided, tossing back his watery bourbon to quench the emptiness and irritation that mingled within him. Getting stinking drunk suddenly seemed like a good idea. Though in reality, Gulf had learned many times during the last horrible month that when the drunkeness passed, he felt at least three times worse than before. He had no tolerance when it came to alcohol and always felt like shit before finally passing out.

'It's pretty lame when even getting drunk doesn't help,' he thought. Sitting there in front of his empty glass, he despised himself for his cowardice.

"Two bourbons on the rocks, please," a seductive, compelling voice rang out, startling Gulf from his reverie. "One for me and one for him."

Gulf lifted his head and saw a man, who appeared to be in his mid 30s, sitting two stools away from him. He had lustrous black hair and sharp manly features. His tasteful, high-quality suit made him seem like he had just stepped out from the pages of a fashion magazine and had no business sitting here in the real world. His legs stretched all the way from the tall stool to the floor with room to spare, belying his impressive height.

The man stared at Gulf with jet-black eyes even darker than the night outside. Gulf, heart pounding wildly, couldn't tear his gaze away. He knew he should refuse the glass of bourbon that the bartender passed him, but he felt like a frog entranced by a snake, unable to escape.

As Gulf sat there frozen, the man brought his own glass to his mouth in one refined movement and drank.

The man finished his drink after 5 or 10 minutes and stood up. Gulf was totally entranced, captivated by the man's tempting presence.

"Room 2703," the man whispered into Gulf's ear as he walked away from the counter.

"Huh?" Gulf exclaimed to himself. Tiny shivers raced through him like a fever, and hot, melting desire welled up inside his body. He had never felt such a strong physical reaction towards another person, it was as if his heart was about to bursr from his chest. He couldn't believe that he was being hit on by a high-class guy in a high-class hotel.

'No way ' he thought. 'This must be some kind of mistake...'

But Gulf's reason and good sense were soon overwhelmed by powerful temptation. Ten minutes after the mystery man made his exit, Gulf left the bar himself.

TBC