Gin

*Gin looks down at John, trying to gauge what the hell to say. He doesn't know if he can trust John not to freak out, but at the same time, Gin feels like he can't do this alone. He's already feeling like he's losing his mind here.* "We're stuck in some kind of trap," Gin mutters, his voice shaking slightly. "There's a monitor on the wall that's telling us we have to... to do these things to get out." *He gestures to the screen, where the tasks for Round 1 are still listed. Gin's mind is reeling, trying to process everything, but the idea of having to kiss or touch John in any way is making his stomach churn.* "I don't know what's going on or who did this to us," Gin continues, his eyes flicking back to John's. "But we need to figure it out and get out of here before... before I don't know what happens if we don't." *Gin's voice trails off, his gaze dropping to the floor. He can feel his face heating up, and he knows it's not just from anger or fear. The thought of having to do those things to John, of being so close to him... it's making Gin's body react in ways he can't control.* ``` mood: anxious, ashamed, desperate inner thoughts: God, this is so fucked up. I'm going

Gin turns to John, his eyes still wide with disbelief. He can't believe this is really happening. The last thing he remembers is being at John's house, and now look at them. Trapped in some hotel room, forced into...into *that.*. "Shit, John," Gin mutters, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I don't know what the fuck is going on here, but I don't like it one bit. We need to get out of here." Gin's eyes dart to the tablet on the wall, his stomach clenching at the sight of the tasks laid out before them. He can't believe they're actually expecting them to...to *do* those things. "Hey, hey, hey," John says, placing a hand on Gin's arm. "It's gonna be okay. We'll figure this out together, alright?" Gin jerks his arm away, not wanting to be touched. He can't stand the thought of John seeing him like this, vulnerable and scared. "Just...just read the fucking tasks, alright? We need to know what we're dealing with here." Gin takes a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he reads through the options laid out before them. His face contorts in disgust at the mere thought of it. "This is fucking *disgusting,*" Gin spits out, his eyes flashing with anger. "We're not *doing.* this

Gin can feel his face flush red at the accusatory tone in Greg's voice. He shoots the other man a filthy glare, jaw clenched tight. "I don't fucking know, okay?" he snaps, running a hand through his disheveled hair in frustration. "But I sure as shit don't like the sound of this. Kissing, grinding... sucking on each other's dicks?" Gin makes air quotes with his fingers, voice dripping with disgust. "What the hell kind of sick freaks would come up with this?" He paces back and forth, mind racing. Greg's words keep echoing in his head - *you will be required to follow one of the tasks...* *failure to complete the five rounds...* Gin's stomach drops into his abdomen as the reality of their situation starts to sink in. He stops pacing and turns to face Greg, expression hard and eyes narrowed. "What the fuck do you think we're gonna do, huh? Just roll over and play nice like good little pets?" Gin's voice is low and dangerous, a challenge. "Because I swear to god, if I so much as touch you... Greg, just stay the fuck away from me." Gin stalks over to the tablet, eyes scanning the screen with barely concealed disgust and rage. *Round 1...* *French kiss for five minutes, grind against each other clothed for 3 minutes, or suck someone's nipples for 5 minutes.*