Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6411088.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Haikyuu!!
  Relationship:
      Hinata_Shouyou/Ushijima_Wakatoshi
  Character:
      Hinata_Shouyou, Ushijima_Wakatoshi
  Additional Tags:
      not_historically_accurate, porn_with_very_mild_plot, so_mild_it's
      probably_just_porn_with_context, Kagema!Hinata, Prostitute!Hinata,
      Samurai!Ushijima, rarepair, Possibly_Unrequited_Love, ages_are_left_vague
      so_think_of_them_as_whatever_age_makes_you_comfortable, though_in_this
      historical_context_Hinata_would_probably_be_underage, Explicit_Sexual
      Content, possessive_behavior_I_guess?, Light_Angst
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-03-31 Words: 3640
****** Bird Cage ******
by unit702
Summary
     The man wasn’t cruel. He hadn’t raised a hand to Shoyou even once.
     And when it was quiet like this, tucked away in a brothel in the
     forest, secreted in this one familiar room; he was intimate.
     //In which Ushijima is a travelling Samurai who visits the Kagema
     Hinata often, and Hinata has longer hair.
Notes
     This is about a 9:1 ratio of porn to plot. (It's probably just
     context with a dash of subtext, really.)
     Inspired by the gorgeous yukata ero illustrations by Ayumi Kasai.
See the end of the work for more notes
 
===============================================================================
“I’ll get out of here, someday.”
“It appears you still don’t understand your situation.”
The adolescent boy stared into the gardens, the cold bite of the evening breeze
nipping at the tip of his nose. He liked the smell of the fresh air, so he
didn’t move from his place kneeling by the sliding door.
“I will. ”
 The man was silent for a long moment. The only sound came of the shift of
sheets as the young prostitute was dragged slowly from the door by a grip on
his ankle. Shouyou didn’t fight against the movement, and he lay obediently as
he heard the rustling of obi being untied behind him, and heavy yukata parted.
 
“I despise that.”
===============================================================================
 
“His hair is so strange, though… It’s a wonder he gets so many customers…”
“It must be because of his foreign looks. A lot of guests like that, you know.”
“He probably attracts all the strange types… Poor thing. He’s young, too...
Well, better for me anyway. I’ll happily stick to the traditional, lonely types
of men. Most of them are harmless, even if they are depressing...”
“--Ah, it’s a customer coming in…”
 
...
 
“Welcome back, sir .”
“Would you like some company, our esteemed guest?”
“...Hinata, Shoyou.”
“Of course. Let us show you to his room-”
“That won’t be necessary. He should be expecting me.”
The two men didn’t insist; they’d come to be used to this.
With the light bow of his head, the man continued down the hall, leaving the
two seasoned prostitutes watching in his wake.

“...That man is as scary as ever.” 
“...I hope that little shrimp is okay.”
The two shared a saddened look and, after a moment and an even breath, they
turned back to the doors.
“...That’s the nature of working like this... It’s not our job to worry.”
 
===============================================================================


“...Welcome back,” the redhead greeted, bowing low. “Ushijima-sama.” He didn’t
stand from his place kneeling on the floor. The drinks were already prepared,
gentle steam twirling from the hot sake cups, and the meal was almost done,
spread on a tray on the floor. The far larger man strode across the soft floors
and sat himself down as he returned the greeting. “...I’m back.”
He waited for his familiar company to crawl closer and to gently remove his
outer jacket for him like always, padding off to hang it in the sliding
cupboard. When he returned, it was to once more kneel across from the man. He
didn’t look at him as he handed him his drink, and served him his food.
“...The rice is a little burnt.”
Hinata went a bit cold then, and he was struggling not to let his embarrassment
slip onto his face. It was difficult for a boy born expressive, but he’d always
been scolded, always been told to remain modest in his actions in front of the
guests.
But this particular guest and himself were probably past the point of such
formality by now.
“...You took a little longer than usual.”
 
===============================================================================
 
They spoke civilly and quietly over the guest’s meal. Hinata didn’t join in
eating or drinking and simply stayed in his place, as was routine.
“How was your business?”
“Good.”
“...Did you get hurt?”
Hinata knew it was out of line, and his guest had scolded him harshly before
for it in the past. The two looked at one another, and though he wasn’t
pleased, the man replied.
“I’ve told you before: I’m too skilled to get hurt.”
After so long knowing someone in the way the two knew one another, it wasn’t
really any wonder that Hinata was relieved in some small way. Once, some time
ago, those words would have angered the younger boy and he would desperately
bite back his spite, thinking how egotistical the warrior sounded; as if he
wereimmune to death on the battlefield, as if he placed himself with the gods .
Now, Hinata knew better.
He really was that skilled.
“..And for you? How has business been?” Ushijima asked. It surprised the
prostitute: it wasn’t something he tended to bring up often. 
“It’s been good.”
“Any regulars?”
“...Yes. A couple.”
At that, his guest looked up. Until now, Ushijima had been his only regular.
Men tended to come to Hinata to fulfill their flight of fantasy for something
‘exotic’, and once they’d had his fiery hair and pinkish-pale skin under them
once, they were satisfied.
There was a short, taut silence.
“..I see.”
“...
...Would you like me to make more rice?”
“No. This will do.”
 
===============================================================================

It always started the same. Ushijima would finish his meal, and drink in
silence for a while. It used to be so alien, so awkwardto Hinata; now he was so
used to it that he could almost be tricked into feeling like it was
companionable.
The warrior would then beckon his whore forth, onto his lap.
When Hinata was seated comfortably, he would lift the last cup of hot sake to
the adolescent’s lips, and let him drink.
The first time he’d done this the boy hadn’t a clue how to react. He wasn’t
allowed, it wasn’t proper, to accept offerings of politeness and hospitality
from his guests. When he’d kindly, shyly, insisted on refusing - he’d had his
jaw grabbed, and the sake forced between his lips. 
He hadn’t understood at all.
Now, he did: the man wasn’t cruel. 
Visiting whores wasn’t something he made a casual habit of.
It was almost ritual… To make him believe that this was, in some far removed
way, two-sided.
He neededthat comfort.
And at last was the command:
“Undress.”
 
Hinata obliged, furisode of golds, coppers and intricate floral embroidery
slipping from his shoulders and falling softly to the floor.
 
===============================================================================
 
“Uhnn-”
Thick fingers curled up, slow, inside. They pushed there, and the boy on his
knees sucked in a dizzying breath as heat sent his limbs sweetly numb. His
small legs tensed and his hips instinctively pushed back, seeking more ; a
large hand at his hip disciplined him, stopping the whore from moving as he
pleased. The press of his thumb: “patience”.
The skin at Shoyou’s knees was grazed red by the woven floors, but the feeling
didn’t even register.
He keened as those fingers, calculating and wicked, rubbed and pulled out until
they almost slipped out of the spit-slick hole, ripe-pink with use, only to
slowly inch in again and do the same. Torturously slow. Hinata didn’t know how
many fingers, couldn’t see from his position - bent over with his face buried
into a silky pillow on the floor- but he knew it wasn’t enough.
It made him mindless, blinded his sense. Ushijima always pushed him in this
way: tested his body, toyed with it as thoroughly as possible. This part could
last hours.
All the while the man would sit stoically, fully dressed. Even his shoes
remained.
The man watched every action he made, every reaction it drew, intense and
deliberate. He was silent, his expression unmoving and concentration solid,
even as he played filthy keens and wretched, smutty sounds from the youth’s
body.
Hinata had always wished from the very start that Ushijima would say something,
anything, even if it were cruel, or empty common praise, even vile grunts of
base nature: anything was better than silence. With the silence, the young
redhead had to hear everything they were doing, everything being done to him,
with no buffer to keep him aware of his reality. There was no thick, ugly voice
to take him from the feelings and the moment- to remove himself from sex and
anchor his sanity.
All he had was this; and his mind swam in it.
Shoyou was flushed all over, heat prickling under his skin as his legs shook,
weak under the weight of being propped up so long. Breath wasn’t satisfying his
lungs, so he panted through heavy, sweating air, trying to catch the breath
that would clear his mind. He wouldn’t find it. With a sound Hinata still
cringed at, Ushijima withdrew his hand. 
The ginger heaved out a breath at the empty feeling, body giving a traitorous
quake of frustration in response.
A tentative peek backward and Hinata saw the tiny, satisfied smirk that played
on his client’s lip.
He stayed where he was, cheek pushed into plush silk that smelled of sweet
herbs, and from his peripheral he could see un-hastened hands slip off his obi
with a sleek sound, and then heavy yukata was opened, a thick silhouette of
muscle and sinew, and battle-weathered skin partly revealed from underneath.
He didn’t remove it. He never removed it.
Ushijima looked him in the eye, then. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that he’d been
watched - but he didn’t mind it. With a gesture, the nod of a head that was
almost humble, Hinata pushed his front up from the floor and allowed himself to
be pulled backward against the man. Firm, large torso was warm to the touch, an
odd kind of comfort he couldn’t explain, pressed flush against the boy’s back.
His knees were then pushed open by larger, wider, harder thighs underneath,
until the boy was spread straddling his client’s lap. Hands guided them open
wider still and gently fished for his small shins, placing them in a more
comfortable position laying sidelong beside his own.
The young prostitute could feel the hot, solid mass of the man’s erection
pushed against the cleft of his cheeks, and it ran a pulse of needy yearning
through him.
Before anything though, Ushijima was pulling at the ribbon tie at the bottom of
the redhead’s short braid. It came loose, fell to the floor, and the fingers
that did such horrid things - the fingers that wrapped around the hilt of a
sword and brutally tore through flesh and innards, the same ones that squeezed
throats dry of air and snapped bones -- the very same ones that teased his body
raw for hours and would accept no less than a cry for release- began to
carefully unwind the braid.
He ran his fingers through the hair softly, from scalp to ends, brushing it out
so that it tumbled in fly-away, uneven waves and curls, the length of it
dusting the tops of his small-framed shoulders. For a moment, Hinata could feel
the other just looking at it, running strands of it through his fingers and
rough palms. He hadn’t expected a nose to push just behind his ear, taking a
long, smooth breath before it ran a trail to the base of his neck. The slither
of pleasure that slid down the boy’s stomach had his breath catching.
The man wasn’t cruel. He hadn’t raised a hand to Shoyou even once.
And when it was quiet like this, tucked away in a brothel in the forest,
secreted in this one familiar room; he was intimate.
The redhead let his breath go in a long sigh, shivering when hands ran down his
sides, gently stirring the lust under his skin, and he felt the tickle of warm
breath at the nape of his neck.
Ushijima surprised him then - surprised himself - and spoke:
“...It reminds me of a forge. Your hair.”
The sake had been strong, good quality. He hadn’t eaten much.
Hinata stopped, stunned into silence. It rang between them, until the man
continued, still hidden in the bright ginger hair.
“...My father was a blacksmith. I used to watch him forging swords… This
colour…The hot metal was this colour.”
Hinata blinked. Out of polite conversation, the two didn’t speak much. To be so
personal was unheard of between them. He was amazed, and only when the initial
shock subsided did he let the words sink in. Out of embarrassment, he flushed
to his ears. By all means, it wasn’t specifically a compliment… But the young
whore had heard cliched simile after simile about his hair:
 
It’s like fire,
it’s like sweet oranges,
like copper,
The sun...
 
This was the only time he’d felt that the comparison was honest, and
flattering. Hot iron. Burning coals. Strength, weaponry, sparks… It made him
flutter to think of such exciting things.
He turned his head, two sets of eyes met, and there was a flustered thank you
on the back of his tongue. He lost the words when the blunt, hot head of his
company’s cock pushed up against his entrance. Fingers pushed into his lips
without giving him a moment to think, and pressed under his tongue, slicking
the tips before they dipped down between their bodies. They prodded and
smoothed over the skin, making the hole a little wetter- and with that, the tip
slipped in.  
Ushijima’s hands were tensed hard, gripping the supple, squeezable skin at
Hinata’s hips. He crept forward, girth forcing its way in little by little.
 The warrior kept a close eye, fought himself to concentrate, reading the body
taking him in for signals of discomfort and signals of approval. His brow was
pinched, chest tight with this breathless, long moment.  After the initial
little push the younger relaxed- and now he was trying to thrust himself down:
impatience. Ushijima gripped harder and stopped Shoyou, squeezing his eyes shut
as he resisted the overwhelming, wild urge to thrust himself deep into the
impossibly welcoming, tight warmth of his little whore’s body.
When pale, soft cheeks were sat plush against Ushijima’s abdomen, he let out
the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, pushing his nose into the crook of
Hinata’s neck. The boy let out a low groan, in a moment of his own. His body
was burning: sharp little pain and sticky hot pleasure overwhelming him with
sensation. Very few made him want it. This man made him want it, made this part
the best feeling he could think of… He felt full,and after needing it so long,
it melted the last of his will to think.
 
It was here, and only here, that they were both real.
 
Hinata ground his hips without lifting them, spinning them in a shallow circle,
testing the feeling as he moved Ushijima around inside him. He sighed a breath
so heavy his voice almost leaked, and the older man circled his arms around the
redhead’s small waist. It was small, but he wasn’t afraid of crushing it - the
boy was harder, less delicate, than he looked.
Arms reached back, hands smaller than a male’s ought to be finding gentle
purchase in the warrior’s cropped hair. The sensation, the desperate little
motion burned through Ushijima. “... Move .”
It was husky and barely there. It was completely out of line for a whore - but
the demand snapped the man’s reserve and had him pushing his hips up in a tight
snap, making Hinata bark out in surprise.
 
                          “Please, fuck me, master-”
     Hips stopped, pulled back. Hinata blinked, slipping out of character.
                                  “ Don’t. ”
     “...I… don’t understand, did I do something wrong…?” Pretend modesty.
 “Don’t act. Don’t say things you don’t mean. Don’t lie to me with the sounds
you were taught to make. It disgusts me.” Hinata stared slack-lipped at his new
                           client, utterly shocked.
  “I’ll make you make those sounds without your will. Do you understand me?”
                                        
When the warrior pulled back again, Hinata took it upon himself to piston his
hips in a slow, long motion: up and down. Ushijima liked it this way: slow, and
deep. Hinata liked it, only because he’d been taught the gratification that a
little patience cultivated. Ushijima’s breath came out heavy, blowing over
Shoyou’s shoulder. Large hands spanned the boy’s stomach and slid up to his
chest as they started moving together, fingers toying at nipples and playing
where they pleased - ignoring the strained member that stood pressed flat
against a pale stomach. It would be a long while yet until Hinata would be
allowed to come.
===============================================================================
 
The room felt hazy. The air, their bodies, were sticky and humid with sweat. An
hour had passed. The smell of sweet floral incense was giddying and dulled
their senses with easy, relaxing feelings. It made the sting of their muscles
less, made their conscious thoughts fewer. Hinata’s fingers were bunched into
silk sheets, pulled off of the large futon and tangled in his legs from their
movement. He was once more on hands and knees, bracing himself for every wave
after wave of pleasure as he was fucked into. He fought his throat to keep the
sounds back for a while, to breathe easy, but it was always the same. When
Ushijima was hitting that one, deep spot with every deliberate slam of powerful
hips, he didn’t stand a chance. Broken whines, shouts, ugly and unpracticed
slipped past his lips. His breath came in pants, when he remembered to do so.
Ushijima’s sounds were harsh, heavy breaths that dragged against his throat. It
was only when sweat started to dampen the roots of his hair, dyeing them a
sheen black -when he started to lose the strict composure and control that he
held so high in importance- that those breaths would drag into an expletive,
and he would moan: long and loud and low. He was curled over Hinata’s back, his
large body domineering over the smaller beneath, his hands supporting himself
either side of his paler partner’s. His mouth was close to Hinata’s ear when he
broke, and the long moan had the boy quivering in hunger and delight.
Now was the good part. Now the wait, struggling through a teasingly slow pace,
paid off.
Hinata braced himself for the last burst of their heavy, hot sex - only, it
didn’t come. Just as he turned back to ask if everything was okay with his
patron, his shoulder was gently pulled toward the man behind him. Hinata lost
his balance, his arms displaced from supporting him. He expected to hit the
floor, but a strong arm slid around his back and in a smooth movement, Ushijima
had turned the youth to face him. Gently, Hinata was laid back on the futon.
Ushijima was looking at him, fervent eyes boring into him in a way that made
the younger shrink under the intensity of his gaze. Their faces were close.
For a moment that seemed to span forever -here in their own independent little
dimension of this room, where the outside world stopped and their sex was
hidden behind paper walls decorated in ornate pattern- the two heaved in breath
and looked at one another, chests swelling and falling.
 
The warrior was confessing something in that silence. 
Something Hinata didn’t want to hear.
The redhead reached out, his fingers curling and fisting tight into the man’s
hair. He pulled him close, and as his client grimaced he shoved himself back
in, groaning at the feeling.
They’d never faced one another during sex before.
Their bodies clung and slid off of one another, close, fast, arms wound tight
and nails desperately spanning tough skin. They were both strained and loud,
uninhibited and wound up to the point where neither could stand it anymore.
Hearts racing, chests heaving, their legs and hips screaming with the effort of
movement. The heat reached a dizzying peak as Ushijima squeezed him tight,
tugging the boy’s lower back to press close to his own stomach, getting his
prostitute off with a gorgeous, strangled moan as his cock was trapped between
them and rubbed up against Ushijima’s firm stomach. Hinata’s cry, his wrecked
expression glazed with lazy satisfaction, and the way muscles clamped down hard
on him sucked Ushijima’s orgasm from him, even though he’d intended to continue
for a while longer, at least. He groaned, rough and broken, hips twitching in
as he took himself to the very last of his pleasure.
 
===============================================================================
 
Hinata sat by the open door, short legs outstretched on the porch. His furisode
was comfortable and loose, hanging from his shoulder lazily as he stared out
into the dark gardens. He wiggled his bare toes, chuckling softly to himself as
the breeze tickled them pleasantly.
A presence approached behind him, and he felt his furisode slide back onto his
shoulder.
Hinata chuckled.
“Don’t be indecent.”
At that, the ginger outright laughed, bubbling and light.
He wouldn’t dare be like this, be real, around his other clients. It was an odd
association they had: intimate business exchange. They weren’t friends, nor
lovers… But by this point, they were probably fond enough of one another.
“Hey, isn’t that my job?” He teased, sing-song.
He heard the irritated sigh behind him, and heard the fizzling of burning
tobacco as the man drew from his elegant pipe.
“...But it’s okay. In two years, my contract is finished,” the adolescent
smiled to the open sky, his voice quieter, and earnest. “...And it won’t be my
job anymore.”
A breeze swept across the garden, and Hinata smiled, fixated as he watched a
crow fly from the trees to ride it, black wings outstretched and its call on
the wind.
 
“...Shoyou.” The command in the man’s voice startled the boy, and he looked
back, inquisitive and blissfully unaware.
He froze when the man loomed over him, standing, his atmosphere cold. Strong
fingers yanked his chin upwards at an uncomfortable angle, and he stared in
alarm as the man looked down at him. Ushijima’s expression was neutral, but his
eyes were not.
“As long as I’m alive… You’ll stay here.”
 
Hinata’s blood ran cold.
“...Fetch my jacket.”
He swallowed the tight pain in his throat, and rose to his feet in a daze.



The man didn’t say anything else.
At the door, Shoyou gazed up at him, unsure.
“...Thank you for your continued patronage...”
 
Without a word, Ushijima left.
 
===============================================================================

“I heard a rumour that he’s been paying the owner to keep him here,”
“No way- what about his contract?”
“Apparently, as long as that man keeps giving him money, he said he’s going to
keep Hinata here any way he can.”
===============================================================================
 
End Notes
     Thank you very much for reading♥: feedback lets me know what I need
     to improve and what guns to stick to, and I'd super appreciate any
     feedback at all! Probably expect more Haikyuu rarepair from me.
     Also
     may write a prologue, because this AU went a little further than a
     slightly angsty smut oneshot when I was writing.
     may not: I'm lazy.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!