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[duke_of_illusions]

It's an early evening, back in the club. Barma has sent Al on his own, to make friends, to try something new.

Dodo is a breath away.

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[al_truism]

"... in," he decides, carefully. The thought has him breathing deeply.

[duke_of_illusions]

"You have no idea how thrilled I am to hear that."

He whispers, fingertips skating Al's jaw.

[al_truism]

He leans into it, seeking attention. Anything.

[duke_of_illusions]

He gives his face a mild little smack.

[al_truism]

It's still surprising him enough to make him jump and cringe.

[duke_of_illusions]

"You're hot when you're afraid."

He growls to him, stepping closer, grabbing Al's knees and pulling his legs up to circle his waist.

[al_truism]

"I like it," he admits. His legs are trembling, enough to let Gerard feel.

[duke_of_illusions]

He rocks him a little, using the rope as a pivot, spinning them a touch, letting him feel small and like a child's top, whirling in dizzy circles.

"Do you really?"

[al_truism]

It makes him more nervous, heart beating fast. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to balance himself.

"... yes. I like not knowing what will happen."

[duke_of_illusions]

"What's the worst thing you're imagining I'll do to you?"

He asks, sweetly.

[al_truism]

"Drown me," he murmurs. "Some way."

It's a terrible feeling, but part of it is giving up complete control.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Permanently?"

Checking, curiously.

[al_truism]

"No, no-"

He smiles, and shakes his head.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Would you be good scared or bad scared if I made you feel a little bit drowned? Just a little baby bit?"

Coaxing, rocking him still.

[al_truism]

"Good scared," he whispers back, eager.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Then can I waterboard you?"

He whispers to him, egging him on.

[al_truism]

Al knocks a heel against his legs, nods, and gives him such a grin.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Good."

In that case, he's going to whip Al's hair into a hasty tie.

[al_truism]

Having his hair pulled at is always a good thing. Al makes a small sound and twists, arching to make things easier.

[duke_of_illusions]

It gets hitched to his arms, forcing him to keep his head arched up and back. Perfect.

The next thin Gerard gets out is a nasal cannula.

[al_truism]

Al knows what it is. He's seen enough people on oxygen for it to make him squirm, shivering at the implications.

[duke_of_illusions]

He fits it to him, securing it on either side of his face with a little tape, then pops off to go pull out what looks like a small pump.

[al_truism]

Al silently and numbly wonders how he's not going to drown, but doesn't protest. The fear, good fear, is building up.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Now, when it comes in your nose, you can spit it out. Nothing is going to actually go into your lungs, thanks to your epiglottis, you're actually far more likely to asphyxiate- or rather, dry drown."

He fits the pump to the tube.

[al_truism]

Al's breathing fast, through his mouth, fingertips trembling. He reminds himself that Gerard knows his safeword.