(BL) In His Frame

Four men. Four shadows.

They stood like statues for a heartbeat, their faces unreadable, their eyes fixed on me. They pushed me back down and still had a heavy hand on my shoulder, a dead weight that pinned me to the sofa, grip tightened, a silent warning.

The panic attack erupted, a tidal wave that crashed over me, pulling me under. My chest felt like an iron band was squeezing it, tighter and tighter, until I thought my ribs would crack. The world tilted on its axis, the edges of my vision dissolving into a blurry, pulsing mixture. I could hear my blood roaring in my ears, drowning out everything else.

Then, a subtle shift. The man sitting too close to me, the one who had taken the space on my sofa, stretched his arm across the back of the cushion, his fingers brushing my neck. It was a feather-light touch, but it felt like a brand, searing my skin. I flinched, trying to pull away, but the hand on my shoulder pressed down harder, anchoring me. My breath hitched again, a desperate gasp for air that wouldn't come.

Another man stepped forward; he moved with a practiced, predatory slowness, his eyes never leaving mine. He stopped directly in front of me, blotting out the already dim light from the window. The smell of stale cigarettes, something metallic, and unwashed bodies filled the air, suffocating me.

"No," I croaked, the word a raw, painful sound tearing from my constricted throat. It was barely a whisper, a plea against the inevitable.

He didn't acknowledge it. He simply reached out, his large hand closing around my jaw. His grip was firm, unyielding, tilting my head back slightly. His thumb brushed my lower lip, a deliberate, sickening caress that sent a jolt of pure terror through me. My eyes darted around, searching for an escape, for a sign of humanity in any of their cold faces. There was none. Only silence, and the chilling, obedient resolve Mr. Ton had promised.

The one who had held me down leaned closer and murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper next to my ear. "Listen to Mr. Ton. He just wants to teach you a lesson."

Then, the world began to close in, and the true nightmare began.

The finger that brushed against my lower lip was a cruel joke as his mouth clamped down on mine, forceful and unyielding. It wasn't a kiss; it was an assault.

I thrashed my head, twisting, fighting for air, for space, for any escape. "Stop this!" I gasped, the words tearing from my throat, muffled against his mouth. "Don't do this. Please."

He didn't listen. His grip tightened, and a sharp pain flared as he bit down hard on my lip. I tasted copper.

Then, from behind him, another hand, cold and rough, snaked around, yanking my hair back, forcing my head still. My neck arched painfully, trapping me, making it impossible to move, impossible to scream properly. At the very same moment, a different hand closed around my ass, a violating squeeze that stole my breath.

Tears, hot and helpless, streamed down my face. My world, which had glowed with the quiet hope of Phu, now imploded into a terrifying, suffocating darkness. Phu. His name was a silent scream in my mind, a beacon so far away, a life that felt utterly lost.

Please, God, not this. I pleaded silently, fervently. Please, do something. Save me, just for now. I can't go through this. I won't survive this. Every fiber of my being screamed for one moment of grace, one impossible, divine intervention to snatch me back from the brink.

Their hands were everywhere.

I couldn't move—held up in place, breath shallow, body trembling. I felt my shirt half-torn, skin exposed, and their grip tightening like ropes made of cruelty and power.

They laughed quietly, like this was a game.

I felt teeth graze my skin—bites that left burning trails of shame and pain. One of them leaned close, breath hot against my ear after a long, unwanted kiss.

"Now you're dirty," he whispered. "No one will want you."

Something broke in me.

My mind went blank. No thoughts. No words. Only tears, spilling soundlessly.

My voice refused to come.

I was lost in my own body—until suddenly— A knock.

Sharp. Clear. Like a bell through a storm.

The men froze.

I felt a hand clamp over my mouth, arms restraining me as my body struggled. Another knock, louder this time—followed by a heavy, booming bang on the door.

My heart surged.

I bit down on the hand holding me with everything I had.

He cursed, yanked his hand away—And I screamed.

"Help!"

His fist collided with my stomach. Pain exploded through me, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. Someone was out there. Someone heard me.

And then— The door burst open.

Voices. Footsteps. Chaos.

Phi Tan was the first to rush in. Nok was right behind him, tears already running down her face. Police officers flooding the room seconds later.

Everything was spinning.

I felt someone wrap a jacket around me—Nok.

"God—what did they do to you, Ian?" she sobbed, pulling me into her arms, holding me like I'd shatter. 

Phi Tan turned, eyes burning, fury uncontained. He punched one of the attackers in the jaw with everything he had.

"You're mad at Phu because he's in love with him? Then confront Phu—not Ian!" he shouted, voice unsteady. "You knew Ian couldn't defend himself. Four against one—how brave of you, huh? Cowards!"

The police moved in, pinning the four men to the ground, dragging them out one by one.

I sat there, dazed. Breathing shallow. Barely holding on.

But I wasn't alone anymore.

I was trying to arrange my thoughts, pulling broken pieces of myself back together.

But they wouldn't stay.

Everything felt raw—my skin, my heart, my mind. I looked down and saw the marks on my body. Reddish, scattered across my chest, my arms, my thighs. Bite marks. Bruises.

My stomach turned.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to feel less exposed, less ruined.

But I couldn't stop the wave that hit me.

'I'm so filthy… so filthy…" I murmured in a broken whisper, then the words tore from me in a desperate sob, each repeat heavier than the last until my voice shattered.

Nok was holding me, hugging me tightly from behind, gently tapping my back as I trembled in her arms.

"Ian, please… calm down," she kept saying, her voice trembling through tears. "You're not filthy. You're safe now. You're safe."

But it didn't feel like it.

It felt like something inside me had shattered beyond fixing.

Phi Tan walked over after finishing with the police officers.

"I've texted Phu," he said softly. "He's on his way. Twenty minutes, maybe less."

I nodded through sobs, barely processing anything anymore.

Nok glanced at him, her face pale with worry.

"Tell him to hurry..." she whispered. "He needs to be here."

Phi Tan didn't hesitate. He stepped outside and called.

Not even five minutes later, I heard rushed footsteps on the stairs.

Then the door opened.

Phu burst in, breathless, his face pale, panic written in every line of his expression.

He locked eyes with Phi Tan first.

Then he saw me—in Nok's arms, wrapped in her jacket, my own clothes torn, skin marked, eyes swollen from crying.

Nok was sobbing, and I was crying too, clinging to her in a hug.

Phu froze.

For a long second, he couldn't move.

Phi Tan stepped in front of him.

"If you truly love him," he said, calm but unwavering, "then love him the right way. Not just with words—but with the courage to stand by him. Learn to protect that love, even in a world that wants to tear it apart."

Phu nodded slowly, eyes glistening. Shattered. Broken.

Phi Tan stepped aside.

Phu walked over, knelt in front of me, and Nok gently moved away.

I couldn't look at him. With my hands gripping my knees and my head bowed, I didn't have the strength to lift my face.

I didn't want him to see me like this.

Not like this.

He sat beside me, shaking.

"Ian..." he whispered, his voice broken. "Baby... look at me, please."

I couldn't say a word, couldn't even lift my face to meet his eyes."

He sat beside me, shaking.

"Ian..." he whispered, voice breaking. "Baby... look at me, please."

I couldn't say a word, couldn't even lift my face to meet his eyes.

Then he asked, "Why didn't you ever tell me anything?"

Still staring at the floor, I whispered, "I'm sorry... I never thought this would happen."

"They… they forced themselves on me," I gasped between sobs.

"I—I didn't do anything—I swear…" My voice trembled, each word a ragged gasp.

"I'm so sorry… I'm ruined… I'm filthy now…" I wailed, the apology spilling out in a torrent until I couldn't speak at all.

Phu, who had been holding back his tears until now, finally broke.

He pulled me into his arms and held me tight, like he was afraid I might slip away.

"No, baby, no," he whispered, voice trembling. "You're not. Don't ever say that. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry."

My breathing hitched.

Slowly, I looked up at him.

His eyes—brimming with tears, burning with rage, overflowing with love.

And in that moment, I saw something I hadn't expected.

He wasn't looking at me like I was broken.

He was looking at me like I was still his whole world.

Phi Tan and Nok quietly stepped out, leaving us alone in the silence.

I cried harder in his arms. Then, needing to feel even closer, I shifted—climbing into his lap, burying my face in his shoulder as the sobs ripped through me.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I kept mumbling through broken breaths.

And he just held me.

As if holding me could put me back together.

As if he'd never let me fall apart again.