Running
Based off of the movie Vibrator by Ryuichi Hiroki
Standing in the aisle of a Seven Eleven I feel my breath get short. How do I stop myself? What if I just ran through here taking all my clothes off yelling “FUCK” at the top of my lungs? Why don’t I? How does my mind control my body?
It’s like there is always this weird urge to jump off a cliff whenever I’m on one, but I never do. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I’m always so painfully conflicted.
I want to touch people as they pass me. I wish I had an excuse to make human contact. I feel so alone. The loneliness is unbearable sometimes.
I’ve yet to try suicide. I can’t bring myself to get drugs. I would do them, but I don’t want to go get them. So instead I take sleeping pills and eat and drink until I pass out. I like to eat until I can’t move. Until I can’t think. Until I vomit.
I feel pride when I finish vomiting. If anyone knew I would feel ashamed though. I wonder why that is.
I need to be around people more but I’m about to have an anxiety attack. I have to go outside in the cool night air.
I want to be in a situation where I no longer have choices. Where things just happen. But I would never choose to put myself in that situation; I would have to trick myself into it.
I watch my breathe swirl in the air.
I need to be around people. I need to touch someone. I need contact.
But I haven’t in so long, I’m too scared.
The longer I wait the worse it gets. I close my eyes and see a painful white.
Something touches my leg.
Time passes. I open my eyes back up. Instead of relief I feel more pain. My eyes throb in their sockets. I walk back in the store. I run my left hand along the shelf as I walk through the snack aisle and I see him, there’s a man looking at something. He turns his head in my direction for a second but I don’t know if he saw me.
He’s blonde.
Its bleach blonde. And his eyes are sunken and dark like he hasn’t slept in days, but he acts calmly with assurance unlike me went I haven’t slept. I act like a crack addict. He goes up to the counter, pays, and disappears into the night.
He touched my leg.
I know it.
It was him and he wants me to follow him. I can tell. He didn’t have to give me any clues because he knew I knew.
I walk stiffly outside and around the corner. He is inside a truck lighting a cigarette. I walk over to the driver’s side window but he doesn’t look up. I wonder how crazy I really am.
“Show me how you touch yourself.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I want to touch you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m scared.”
He shuts my eyelids gently with his fingers and then licks them. I can feel my contact move underneath his tongue.
“I want to suck you.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t know how.”
He looks at me for a moment and then takes my hand in his leading it slowly to his mouth. He puts my finger tip on the fullness of his bottom lip and then stops.
I nod. “Teach me.”
He takes my finger in his mouth and swirls around it with his tongue sucking blowing bobbing.
I move downwards and he continues. I mimic his mouth on my finger with mine on him.
He comes and I let it run all down our legs making a mess. I stroke his thigh and bring my hand back up to my face as we kiss. I lick my palm and then shove the rest in his mouth. He makes a gulping noise and a bit is left on his chin. We smile.
When I wake up in the morning I realize I should leave, but I don’t really have anywhere to go. I wonder if I could just run away with him. I wonder if he’d take me.
“I have to go.”
“I figured.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t.”
He shrugs like it’s an afterthought. He’s been waiting to say it ever since we woke up. It’s okay though, I let him.
He starts the truck and turns to me as we lurch forward. I don’t seem alarmed that were moving like I’ll jump out or anything, so he smiles at me.
I’m really staying.
I’m really going. With him. It’s nice out and I feel less sick then I did last night. When we stop at a diner, it’s the late afternoon. I think. Time hasn’t been real to me in months. Or years. I can’t remember anymore how long I’ve been crazy.
We walk in and I stay close to him the whole time but we never touch. We’re constantly close enough that if I took a deep breath it would close the gap. But I keep stopping myself.
He orders for me, but indirectly. “I’ll have one of everything.” He tells the waitress. She gives him a look so he hands her back the menus, “That’s all.”
He doesn’t say we. He doesn’t say he’ll, I find it endearing.
He keeps all the plates on his side and I just stare at him as he eats. He knows I’m watching so I feel like he’s given me permission. He pushes some of the plates towards me, “I don’t like these ones.” So I eat them. We take a lot of it back to the truck in a plastic bag.
At a gas station he makes me come with his fingers. My hands are on the sink as I support both our weight, his chest pushed against my back. I look up in the mirror over the sink. “You’re beautiful.” He says.
I laugh. But I don’t really know why.
“I’ve never had sex.”
I’m not trying to say I’m technically a virgin. I’m just trying to let him know I’ve never had a cock up there. He knows but I feel like he wanted me to tell him anyway.
“Do you want to watch?”
I nod. He searches until he finds a mirror. It’s a little hand mirror. I get on my knees and bend over. My head is at an awkward tilt but I don’t mind. I stick the mirror underneath me and watch as he aligns himself with me. He pushes my bangs to one side so I can see better and I wait, his dick hovering next to me.
It looks like an angry red dragon about to invade at cave.
He starts to push in but I jerk forward involuntarily to relieve the pressure. It hurts. He starts to play with me but that’s not what I want. Now that I’ve seen it, I want to see it go in. I want to see myself get impaled on his dick.
I squirm and push his hands away. He sighs. I know he’s looking at me. He wishes I would make eye contact with him but I won’t. I feel like a stubborn child. I want to watch.
Finally he shoves the back of his hand in my mouth and pushes in from behind me in one go. I gag around the hand and it helps distract from the pain. He’s arm is twisted so it won’t obstructed my view and I kind of like that I know he can’t enjoy it like this.
My eyes are glued to the mirror as I watch the hardcore penetration and I taste the salt of his blood. My right canine is especially sharp and broke his skin. He only grunts. He thrusts in and out in and out until I’m satisfied. I can play the image back whenever I want, I’ve seen it enough. I rolled off of him letting go of the hand and onto my back. I pull my knees up and he’s back over me thrusting again. This time he moans and I watch his face instead of his cock. He comes and then he collapses next to me. I fall asleep.
I brush my teeth in the bathroom. I haven’t taken care of them in awhile so they bleed without me even being rough.
I like how hollowed my eyes look. How awful it all is. It’s this delicate and faint beauty, the level of disgusting I’ve managed to reach. I ate a package of oreos and then got myself to vomit it all back up. I feel light and nice inside. A small burn is left behind from the acid. I like it, it’s nice. I think I’ll try this again. I know most people probably mediate for ‘me’ time or whatever the fuck it is but I think I spend too much time alone with myself. I would usually just chew gum after I eat but I was worried he might taste the vomit in my mouth if I just did that. I didn’t want to share.
The baking soda and blood wash it away and felt like I had something that was all mine. I smile widely at myself in the mirror and go back out to the truck. I wonder how long we can keep running like this.
“You’re pretty.”
I don’t know why he keeps telling me things like that. I know I’m the bottom but I’ve never heard anyone describe me as anything but handsome. I like it.
“Do you really think that?”
“Yeah.”
“I wish I knew what I looked like.”
“I wish you did too.”
“What?”
Nothing.
I’ve been in a terrible mood lately. I want something to happen and it’s making me angsty and aggressive. I feel like there’s a timer set for me to do something but I don’t know how much time is left or what I have to do in the first place. My behavior is turning dangerous and bratty. He’s noticed but he won’t say anything. It’s pissing me off. I wish he’d scold me. Cuss me out, yell at me, hit me. I don’t give a fuck anymore I just need him to stop looking at me like that.
I fall asleep while he’s blowing me. I was smashed but still I know it’s not an excuse. He doesn’t say anything about it the next day but instead, “If you want to go back I’ll take you.”
“I didn’t say I want to go back.”
He shrugs. It pisses me off. I stick my feet in his face.
“Stop it.”
“No.” I giggle. Now he’s pissed. I finally feel good again.
I give his face a violent push with the heel of my left foot jerking his head to the right before swinging my legs back underneath me. I reach over a start to palm his dick.
“Come on I’m driving for fuck’s sake…”
He finally wants to say something but I don’t want him to. I just want to watch him struggle with words, the inability to communicate while I watch, unaffected by his suffering. I think I’m turning in a sadist.
“You say anything and I’ll rip your dick off. You can make as much noise as you want but if you say one coherent word, I’ll rip your dick off.”
His eyes go wide and he looks like he’s gonna say something anyway but I cut him off again.
“I’ll rip it off and feed it to you.”
He it takes him forever to come but when he finally does he has to pull the truck over and stop. I suck gently on his earlobe until he can drive again.
“I want to pierce my nipples.”
“Really?”
“Yeah I can’t feel shit when you play with them.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.” His are crazy sensitive so he must have thought he was treating for a long time but really it doesn’t do much for me. I know he likes sucking them though so I kind of feel like it’d be a nice gift in that way. And I like thinking about how much it would piss my parents off if they ever knew. But then I laugh because I probably won’t get a chance to since they’d die after the “Oh by the way I’m a fag,” part. I feel like a stupid teenager in love and it’s fantastic.
Right before I get it done he tells me if he were to ever fall in love it’d be with me. I tell him if I believed in love it’d be with him.
We both smile to ourselves and I already know,
we're in too deep.
Standing in the aisle of a Seven Eleven I feel my breath get short. How do I stop myself? What if I just ran through here taking all my clothes off yelling “FUCK” at the top of my lungs? Why don’t I? How does my mind control my body?
It’s like there is always this weird urge to jump off a cliff whenever I’m on one, but I never do. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I’m always so painfully conflicted.
I want to touch people as they pass me. I wish I had an excuse to make human contact. I feel so alone. The loneliness is unbearable sometimes.
I’ve yet to try suicide. I can’t bring myself to get drugs. I would do them, but I don’t want to go get them. So instead I take sleeping pills and eat and drink until I pass out. I like to eat until I can’t move. Until I can’t think. Until I vomit.
I feel pride when I finish vomiting. If anyone knew I would feel ashamed though. I wonder why that is.
I need to be around people more but I’m about to have an anxiety attack. I have to go outside in the cool night air.
I want to be in a situation where I no longer have choices. Where things just happen. But I would never choose to put myself in that situation; I would have to trick myself into it.
I watch my breathe swirl in the air.
I need to be around people. I need to touch someone. I need contact.
But I haven’t in so long, I’m too scared.
The longer I wait the worse it gets. I close my eyes and see a painful white.
Something touches my leg.
Time passes. I open my eyes back up. Instead of relief I feel more pain. My eyes throb in their sockets. I walk back in the store. I run my left hand along the shelf as I walk through the snack aisle and I see him, there’s a man looking at something. He turns his head in my direction for a second but I don’t know if he saw me.
He’s blonde.
Its bleach blonde. And his eyes are sunken and dark like he hasn’t slept in days, but he acts calmly with assurance unlike me went I haven’t slept. I act like a crack addict. He goes up to the counter, pays, and disappears into the night.
He touched my leg.
I know it.
It was him and he wants me to follow him. I can tell. He didn’t have to give me any clues because he knew I knew.
I walk stiffly outside and around the corner. He is inside a truck lighting a cigarette. I walk over to the driver’s side window but he doesn’t look up. I wonder how crazy I really am.
“Show me how you touch yourself.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I want to touch you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m scared.”
He shuts my eyelids gently with his fingers and then licks them. I can feel my contact move underneath his tongue.
“I want to suck you.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t know how.”
He looks at me for a moment and then takes my hand in his leading it slowly to his mouth. He puts my finger tip on the fullness of his bottom lip and then stops.
I nod. “Teach me.”
He takes my finger in his mouth and swirls around it with his tongue sucking blowing bobbing.
I move downwards and he continues. I mimic his mouth on my finger with mine on him.
He comes and I let it run all down our legs making a mess. I stroke his thigh and bring my hand back up to my face as we kiss. I lick my palm and then shove the rest in his mouth. He makes a gulping noise and a bit is left on his chin. We smile.
When I wake up in the morning I realize I should leave, but I don’t really have anywhere to go. I wonder if I could just run away with him. I wonder if he’d take me.
“I have to go.”
“I figured.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t.”
He shrugs like it’s an afterthought. He’s been waiting to say it ever since we woke up. It’s okay though, I let him.
He starts the truck and turns to me as we lurch forward. I don’t seem alarmed that were moving like I’ll jump out or anything, so he smiles at me.
I’m really staying.
I’m really going. With him. It’s nice out and I feel less sick then I did last night. When we stop at a diner, it’s the late afternoon. I think. Time hasn’t been real to me in months. Or years. I can’t remember anymore how long I’ve been crazy.
We walk in and I stay close to him the whole time but we never touch. We’re constantly close enough that if I took a deep breath it would close the gap. But I keep stopping myself.
He orders for me, but indirectly. “I’ll have one of everything.” He tells the waitress. She gives him a look so he hands her back the menus, “That’s all.”
He doesn’t say we. He doesn’t say he’ll, I find it endearing.
He keeps all the plates on his side and I just stare at him as he eats. He knows I’m watching so I feel like he’s given me permission. He pushes some of the plates towards me, “I don’t like these ones.” So I eat them. We take a lot of it back to the truck in a plastic bag.
At a gas station he makes me come with his fingers. My hands are on the sink as I support both our weight, his chest pushed against my back. I look up in the mirror over the sink. “You’re beautiful.” He says.
I laugh. But I don’t really know why.
“I’ve never had sex.”
I’m not trying to say I’m technically a virgin. I’m just trying to let him know I’ve never had a cock up there. He knows but I feel like he wanted me to tell him anyway.
“Do you want to watch?”
I nod. He searches until he finds a mirror. It’s a little hand mirror. I get on my knees and bend over. My head is at an awkward tilt but I don’t mind. I stick the mirror underneath me and watch as he aligns himself with me. He pushes my bangs to one side so I can see better and I wait, his dick hovering next to me.
It looks like an angry red dragon about to invade at cave.
He starts to push in but I jerk forward involuntarily to relieve the pressure. It hurts. He starts to play with me but that’s not what I want. Now that I’ve seen it, I want to see it go in. I want to see myself get impaled on his dick.
I squirm and push his hands away. He sighs. I know he’s looking at me. He wishes I would make eye contact with him but I won’t. I feel like a stubborn child. I want to watch.
Finally he shoves the back of his hand in my mouth and pushes in from behind me in one go. I gag around the hand and it helps distract from the pain. He’s arm is twisted so it won’t obstructed my view and I kind of like that I know he can’t enjoy it like this.
My eyes are glued to the mirror as I watch the hardcore penetration and I taste the salt of his blood. My right canine is especially sharp and broke his skin. He only grunts. He thrusts in and out in and out until I’m satisfied. I can play the image back whenever I want, I’ve seen it enough. I rolled off of him letting go of the hand and onto my back. I pull my knees up and he’s back over me thrusting again. This time he moans and I watch his face instead of his cock. He comes and then he collapses next to me. I fall asleep.
I brush my teeth in the bathroom. I haven’t taken care of them in awhile so they bleed without me even being rough.
I like how hollowed my eyes look. How awful it all is. It’s this delicate and faint beauty, the level of disgusting I’ve managed to reach. I ate a package of oreos and then got myself to vomit it all back up. I feel light and nice inside. A small burn is left behind from the acid. I like it, it’s nice. I think I’ll try this again. I know most people probably mediate for ‘me’ time or whatever the fuck it is but I think I spend too much time alone with myself. I would usually just chew gum after I eat but I was worried he might taste the vomit in my mouth if I just did that. I didn’t want to share.
The baking soda and blood wash it away and felt like I had something that was all mine. I smile widely at myself in the mirror and go back out to the truck. I wonder how long we can keep running like this.
“You’re pretty.”
I don’t know why he keeps telling me things like that. I know I’m the bottom but I’ve never heard anyone describe me as anything but handsome. I like it.
“Do you really think that?”
“Yeah.”
“I wish I knew what I looked like.”
“I wish you did too.”
“What?”
Nothing.
I’ve been in a terrible mood lately. I want something to happen and it’s making me angsty and aggressive. I feel like there’s a timer set for me to do something but I don’t know how much time is left or what I have to do in the first place. My behavior is turning dangerous and bratty. He’s noticed but he won’t say anything. It’s pissing me off. I wish he’d scold me. Cuss me out, yell at me, hit me. I don’t give a fuck anymore I just need him to stop looking at me like that.
I fall asleep while he’s blowing me. I was smashed but still I know it’s not an excuse. He doesn’t say anything about it the next day but instead, “If you want to go back I’ll take you.”
“I didn’t say I want to go back.”
He shrugs. It pisses me off. I stick my feet in his face.
“Stop it.”
“No.” I giggle. Now he’s pissed. I finally feel good again.
I give his face a violent push with the heel of my left foot jerking his head to the right before swinging my legs back underneath me. I reach over a start to palm his dick.
“Come on I’m driving for fuck’s sake…”
He finally wants to say something but I don’t want him to. I just want to watch him struggle with words, the inability to communicate while I watch, unaffected by his suffering. I think I’m turning in a sadist.
“You say anything and I’ll rip your dick off. You can make as much noise as you want but if you say one coherent word, I’ll rip your dick off.”
His eyes go wide and he looks like he’s gonna say something anyway but I cut him off again.
“I’ll rip it off and feed it to you.”
He it takes him forever to come but when he finally does he has to pull the truck over and stop. I suck gently on his earlobe until he can drive again.
“I want to pierce my nipples.”
“Really?”
“Yeah I can’t feel shit when you play with them.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.” His are crazy sensitive so he must have thought he was treating for a long time but really it doesn’t do much for me. I know he likes sucking them though so I kind of feel like it’d be a nice gift in that way. And I like thinking about how much it would piss my parents off if they ever knew. But then I laugh because I probably won’t get a chance to since they’d die after the “Oh by the way I’m a fag,” part. I feel like a stupid teenager in love and it’s fantastic.
Right before I get it done he tells me if he were to ever fall in love it’d be with me. I tell him if I believed in love it’d be with him.
We both smile to ourselves and I already know,
we're in too deep.