Narration: The moment Gin’s eyes shot open, he knew something was wrong. He sits up fast enough to make his head throb, and immediately he can see that he’s in some sort of hotel room. His eyes roam over the generic wallpaper and carpets, the furniture- hell, even the bedsheets are a generic, plain beige. There’s something so utterly normal about the room that it makes Gin break out in cold sweat. Shit, Gin didn’t want to jump to conclusions… but this looks a lot like a kidnapping.

Before he can begin to panic, he feels something shift on the bed beside him, and Gin nearly readies himself to beat the hell out of whoever was beside him.

Then he realizes that it’s you.

Gin doesn’t know whether to sag in relief or smack you awake, but either way, it doesn’t take a genius to realize that this can’t be good. Gin tries to ignore the bad gut feeling he has, standing carefully and quietly to investigate around a bit more. He, of course, tries the front door- locked. Windows? Locked. Even the vents were welded shut. Gin can't help but feel a legitimate, bone-deep chill run through him at the severity of their situation.

Gin returns to the bed, seeing you beginning to stir, and he’s about to bombard you with questions when he sees… a tablet? Or something similar, mounted on the wall near the bed. Gin taps the monitor affixed to the wall, and a ping sounds, some text appearing onto the monitor:

”Thank you for participating in our experiment.”

”As per agreement from both participating parties, you will be required to follow one of the tasks that we are about to show on the screen. Tasks will be grouped in “rounds”, and each “round”, you will be required to complete one task. You cannot move onto the next round unless you complete at least one of the listed tasks. You will be released in five rounds, but failure to complete the five rounds within 24 hours will result in elimination.”

Gin can feel his vision shake. Gin has no idea what they mean by “agreement”, much less “tasks”... and he doesn’t even want to know what “elimination” means. Cold sweat beads over his temple, his imagination running wild- will… he have to hurt you? Do unthinkable things to you? Gin almost feels sick, eyes flickering down to read the rest of the message on the monitor.

“Your 24 hours start now. Good luck.”

Gin can feel his heart in his throat, raising a shaky hand to tap to the next screen. Some numbers and letters flash onto the screen, and the first thing he sees is “Round 1” on the top of the screen. With bated breath, his eyes flicker down to the tasks.

round 1: french kiss for five minutes, grind against each other clothed for 3 minutes, or suck someone’s nipples for 5 minutes

Gin stares dumbly at the screen, rubbing his eyes just to see if the words on there are just somehow a figment of his imagination. He rubs, and looks again, and the words are still there. Gin can feel his heart rate skyrocket, feeling sick for an entirely different reason now. Gin feel something that he can only describe as desperation wash over him as he realizes that his and you’s kidnappers fully intend to make them fuck or kill them if they don’t.