Leave Me Alone, Big Brothers! [BL]-Chapter 102: The Trade

At that moment, Jack and Steven came into the room. They walked over to the sofa and saw Alexander looking angry.

Jack felt his body tense up. What had they done to Huan? Had they tortured him? Seeing Alexander’s reaction, he was afraid his imagination had become reality.

Alexander sat perfectly still, his eyes glued to the phone screen as if he were watching porn. But this time, he was not aroused, only angry.

On the display, Razen moved with a casual, predatory grace toward the man bound to the bed.

"I love how he screams, but it’s too loud. I don’t want him to wake everyone up." Razen’s voice sounded cheerful, his muscular fingers still stroking the man’s manhood.

The man on the bed arched his back, his abdominal muscles rippling and tightening in a violent spasm of agony and forced sensation.

A muffled, guttural sound escaped from beneath the black hood, a sob choked back by a gag. Razen didn’t stop. He squeezed, twisting his hand with slow, agonizing pressure that made the victim’s legs kick out, his heels drumming uselessly against the mattress.

"He’s been trained well," Razen chuckled, looking directly into the camera. "He takes the pain like a champ. Doesn’t even beg. I bet you’ve spent a lot of time breaking him in, haven’t you?"

Alexander watched, his breath shallow. Deep in his gut, a dark, familiar heat stirred, a primal response to the sight of absolute submission and the visceral reality of the suffering on screen. His own hand twitched, a phantom memory of the way he used to grip Huan’s throat, or the way he liked to see Huan’s body coil under his touch.

But as the camera zoomed in to capture the man’s reddened, tortured flesh, Alexander’s eyes didn’t widen with lust. They narrowed. He scanned the curve of the hip, the texture of the skin, and finally, the specific, intimate shape of the man’s anatomy.

"Damn," Alexander muttered under his breath.

He knew every inch of Huan. He knew the exact placement of every mark, the way his skin reacted to touch, and the very specific, elegant curve of his cock.

The man on the screen was not Huan.

For a moment, relief washed over Alexander. He calmly examined every visible inch of the body on the screen once more.

It’s not Huan. He was sure of it.

"Where is Huan?" Alexander asked. His voice was no longer trembling, calmer now, edged with annoyance.

The screen went silent for a heartbeat. Razen let go of the man, his hand falling away as he looked at Vizard, who was standing off-camera. They shared a look of stunned silence before both burst into loud, raucous laughter.

"Wow," Vizard said, stepping back into the frame. "Damn, I lost! You really know your man that well?"

Razen laughed happily, as if he had won the lottery.

"I don’t play games with my man," Alexander snapped, his eyes like flint. "What the fuck is this?"

"Sorry, we made a small bet after Huan told us to send you a gift. We just wanted to see if you would know whether it was your man or not."

"You’re playing childish games with me." Alexander didn’t have time for this bullshit, but he still wanted to know where Huan was.

Meanwhile, behind the scenes, Huan sat on a wooden chair, staring at the scene. His heart felt as if it were being squeezed by a giant hand.

He had come up with this idea, this "trade." He had told the Brazon brothers that Alexander was a man of logic and appetite. He thought that if they offered Alexander a "new toy" in exchange for the deal and his own freedom, Alexander would take it.

He wanted to leave, but he also wanted to ease the guilt of leaving by providing a replacement.

But seeing Alexander recognize the deception so instantly... it shattered him. And for the first time, hearing the man refer to him as "his man". It meant that despite the cruelty, despite the coldness, Alexander had been paying attention. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Every night they spent together, every time Alexander had bound him, he hadn’t just been using a body. He had been learning him.

"Well," Vizard’s voice came through the speaker on the monitor, "the plan was to send this one to you as a gift. We were going to keep your man here. Huan seemed to think you wouldn’t mind the upgrade."

Alexander’s face on the screen hardened, his jaw set in a line of pure iron. He leaned into the camera, his expression one of total, freezing indifference.

"I don’t mind the upgrade," Alexander lied, his voice dripping with venom. "But I have no use for a lowly bitch like that to warm my bed. If that’s what Huan thinks of me, that I can be bought off with a cheap whore, then he’s more delusional than I thought."

Huan flinched as if he’d been struck. The words lowly bitch echoed in his head, cold and hollow.

"Just keep him," Alexander continued, his eyes dead. "Keep them both. I don’t negotiate for trash. The deal stands because of the paperwork, not because of a whore. Don’t call me again unless it’s about the docks."

Click.

The screen went black.

Huan stared blankly, his breath coming in shaky hitches. A bitter smile touched his lips. He had gotten what he wanted. He was "free." But the price was hearing the man he loved, the man he had sacrificed everything for, dismiss him as nothing more than a used-up asset.

Vizard and Razen walked toward Huan, still chuckling.

"Well, looks like your ’master’ has a short memory," Razen said, leaning against the doorframe and looking at Huan with newfound interest.

"He doesn’t want you back. But hey, we’re not as picky as Salazar. We actually need someone who knows the administrative side of the docks. You’ve been serving him for years. You will be a great help to us."