Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/571297.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Nabari_no_Ou
  Relationship:
      Meguro_Gau/Shimizu_Raikou
  Character:
      Meguro_Gau, Shimizu_Raikou
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-11-23 Chapters: 6/? Words: 8233
****** By Your Side (At Any Price) ******
by lecanis
Summary
     There's a cycle to it: tension, stress, Raikou taking a little time
     away, and then peace, for a while. It's not perfect, but it works,
     until the day Gau decides he wants to be the one Raikou relieves his
     stress with. Is what he wants what Raikou wants? Do either of them
     understand what it is they want, or have?
     When a relationship between partners changes, how do you decide what
     to build into a new one?
     Warnings for underage sex, awkwardness, unsexy sex, and possibly
     power imbalance issues.
     Begins pre-series, but it's pretty vague on anything outside their
     personal relationship anyway.
***** 1 *****
 
Research. This is Gau's strength, adding 1+2+5 and getting 'innocent' or
'guilty'. Linking one piece of evidence to another and coming up with a full
profile of the accused, the names and addresses necessary to find the full
extent of the corrosion. It's a little like cleaning his mother's stove as a
child, scraping away the grease that would get built up on the surface when she
hurriedly cooked a meal and then ran off to her job.
During the actual 'judgement' phase, he is not quite so useful. There are
times, when there are multiple targets or some unexpected interference happens,
when his kunai draws blood. There are times when he distracts an enemy with
something utterly foolish and instinctual like throwing his notebook at their
head. Most of the time, however, he stands back and watches as his stronger
counterpart moves forward to make the kill.
Watches, green eyes locked on every movement, taking in each flex of muscle,
every serene smile, every slice of the sharp blade. Sometimes, his thoughts are
busy analyzing, considering if Raikou is at his best on the particular day, if
he could have been a touch faster, avoided some attack, more efficiently
finished the work. Something, his thoughts are busy planning his next training
session, making note to himself to remind Raikou to show him this move or
explain that strategy.
Then, there are the days when his mind misbehaves, when his emerald eyes are
watching for nothing more than pleasure. When the beauty of each movement, the
sway of silken pink hair, the subtle shift of the fabric of the hakama, catch
his eyes and hold them, trapped in dreams of his partner that will not - can
not - come true.
These days are coming far more often, as he grows older, he's finding.
On all days, however, after the kill is made, when blade or blades are being
wiped on clothing or grass, when the criminal's last breath has been drawn and
the light is fading from their eyes, it's his turn again. He is swift and
precise about collecting the necessary data, does not hesitate or pause to weep
over the dead, to mourn his own innocence or lose his breakfast over the
particular physical condition of a corpse.
(Those days are past for him, the first sight of uncoiling spilled intestines,
the first kill of his own, the first shudder at having known and worked with
someone they now must judge. These things are behind him, already. He's fifteen
and has put away such foolishness.)
On this particular day, as with many days, the trip home to the suite they
share, furnished by Hattori, is quiet and slightly breathless, as the
adrenaline of what might have for a moment looked like a close call continues
to course through the older and the younger partner equally. On this particular
day, Gau has had to defend himself, if not attack, and his cream sweater vest
is marred with dark blood.
It isn't going to come out. He's sure of it, and he grumbles over the fact as
soon as they are done giving their report to their leader, unlocks the door to
their shared suite, only to see Raikou hesitating.
It's going to be another one of those nights, he can tell, from the way
Raikou's smile has turned up a notch, has become almost playful. From the way
Raikou follows him in, slides off his shoes, and then immediately steps away
from Gau, putting distance between them. The older teen - almost not a teen
anymore, really - walks into the kitchen area, opens the fridge, closes it
again.
Making sure there is food for Gau to make for dinner. Making sure the boy won't
have to order out or leave the suite by himself, before Raikou comes back in
the morning.
There's a frown on the younger boy's face, and he attributes it to the ruined
sweater, as he strips out of it and sends it directly to the trash. HIs dress
shirt follows, also ruined, though his tie is set carefully aside, hung up in
the laundry area beside the kitchen. He stands there, half-dressed and a little
disgusted with the world, and waits for the words to come.
"Be sure you lock the door behind me."
There they are, the same as so many other evenings. On these nights, when
Raikou's calm is slipping a little, when the samurai feels as if he isn't
completely in control of himself, he goes out. Gau didn't ask, at first, during
those first few months when they were learning to live with each other,
starting to find their places. And when he finally had asked the question, he'd
gotten 'you're a little young' for a while, and then finally, the explanation.
Now, standing between the kitchen and the laundry area, shoulders shifted away
from Raikou as if his bare chest is something to be ashamed of, his mind
flashes with images of the things that Raikou does on these nights out, with
other people. Other adults, who know the score and don't mind a random hook-up
with a pretty and dangerous man.
There's a flush that steals over his skin, and that's like every time too. Only
this time he's half-dressed, and he knows that Raikou can see it, knows that
his bare back - slight freckled and not as broad as he'd like - must hold the
heat.
"Gau, did you hear me? Lock the door behind me, all right?" There's a worried
tone, now, because the proper response is 'yes, Raikou-san' and he isn't saying
it. Maybe Raikou will think that he was hurt after all, or that he's scared, or
somehow traumatized?
Maybe he'll let Raikou think that, and Raikou will stay? And settle himself
just out of arm's length, reading a book, and watch over Gau while he goes
through his own post-mission rituals, until he goes to sleep. Then Raikou will
either go out anyway, or he'll get that edgy caged-animal look in his eyes,
until the next night, when he'll go.
Either way, eventually he'll go. Off to touch other people, release his
emotions and his physical desires with some stranger who won't ever get his
real name, most likely. Who certainly won't know or care about the reasons why.
And Gau has never had reason to believe that Raikou wants it any other way,
except that there's a wary look in Raikou's eyes and...
He tests it. Takes a step toward Raikou.
His partner, in turn, takes a step away. There's a flash of something in his
eyes, there and gone, and then Raikou is turning his head, looking toward the
door again.
Gau advances, again, this time, for the first time ever. And for the first
time, he keeps his gaze steady on Raikou's face, reaches out to take hold of
one tattooed arm, just above the metal bracelet.
"Stay with me tonight."
 
 
***** 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Gau's question gets an answer.
There's a moment of silence, of stillness. Their fancy suite is nearly
soundproof, really, leaving not even outside noises to interfere. There's a
slight shift - Gau isn't sure if it's his own movement or Raikou's - that
causes a soft rustle of cloth.
Verdant eyes battle russet ones. It's a fight to the death, for something
anyway. For the barriers between them. For Gau's innocence, or what is left of
it after almost two years worth of hunting and killing and taking 'proof'. For
the status quo of their relationship, which says that Raikou goes out and Gau
stays home and they talk about it as little as possible.
The fabric of Raikou's arm band is soft, but there's a hard edge underneath it.
Hidden weapons inside. Like Raikou himself, with his pretty pink hair and his
bad fashion sense and keen blade.
The hand that covers Gau's own a second later is warm and strong. He closes his
eyes at the feel of it, and he wonders if that means he's lost the battle of
wills, or won it. He can't ask, doesn't know how to ask, so he simply waits for
a voice to come with the touches.
It doesn't. A long moment passes, and there's nothing but Raikou's hand on his
own, the slight movement closer of the older teen's body, the imagined sound of
his own heartbeat slamming against the walls of the room, echoing and echoing
like the drum he'd had as a child.
"Raikou-san?" he says finally, because he must break the silence, can not bear
a minute more of not knowing, not being sure what is happening here.
The response comes immediately, in the form of a soft squeeze to his hand. "Do
you truly mean what I think you mean with those words, Gau? Will you really
give me even that, after all I have taken from you?"
The boy takes a deep breath, opens his eyes slowly, turning them back up to
Raikou's face. Raikou seems so tall, some days, like it's such a long way to
drag his eyes up there. He takes a few seconds just to look, that familiar face
with the cool features, the warm eyes... except there's a swirling of desire
and confusion in them now that isn't quite as familiar.
Gau offers a smile, nods firmly. "I want you to stay here with me, and let me
do...whatever it is that you need. I'm not stupid, I know what I'm offering.
All I ask is that you let me sleep in your bed, after, and hold me." What am I
getting into? Do I really want my first time to be like this? But...for Raikou-
san...
"Please stay."
He can see the hesitation on his partner's face, but he holds his own
expression steady, keeps his gaze locked with Raikou's. He stands very still,
refusing to give away his own nervousness any more than he has to. And he knows
that Raikou can feel it, that his partner knows him better than anyone.
There's another battle going on, behind Raikou's eyes. Gau can see it, and he
knows now that it is beyond his ability to affect it any further. Raikou has
retreated into himself, Gau's words and his own desires swirling inside him.
Gau can see it, and a part of him begins to wonder whether those desires - for
him, for Gau specifically, not just a body to bury himself in - have existed
long, will continue to exist past this evening.
He has no control, here. He has to wait.
And yet when Raikou breaks, when Raikou's shoulders move slightly forward and
in, when his fingers go slack against Gau's hand, when he slides his feet back
out of the shoes that he had just set them back into ... Gau knows that
whatever power he has, it is enough.
A soft smile comes to his features. He doesn't know where to go from here,
doesn't know what the next step is. Should he kiss Raikou? Touch him? Help him
out of all the extra clothes that he's wearing? He's got some idea what happens
during sex, he isn't a child after all, but he doesn't know what his role is,
in something like this that is and isn't about sex.
Isn't more than is, he believes, as Raikou's hand reaches for his chin, tilts
it down and away, forcing Gau to turn his head. "Finish getting undressed, Gau.
In my bedroom. Wait there." The tone is warm, soft, when it says his name. But
the rest of the words are cooler, darker somehow.
Raikou's voice belongs to all things that grow in dark shady corners, all the
hidden crevices of the world. Nabari itself, perhaps.
There's no pleasure in it for Gau, in that tone, no promise of pleasure at all.
And yet... he closes his eyes, nods against the pressure on his chin, and goes
to follow the instruction.
His bare feet make no noise at all on the floor. His small form takes up so
little space, in their suite, as he steps from one room to another. Yet his
heart feels swelled huge, pounding and pounding inside him. The drum, of
course, but it has become another type of drum altogether. Not a child's toy,
but a drum of war, or perhaps a funeral drum. Or maybe, just maybe...
The drum of a shaman summoning a spirit. Slow and deliberate at first, creating
the trance. And then fervent, reverent, appealing. And then... hard, heavy,
hot, as the spirit overtakes the body and all sense is lost...
Maybe, Gau muses, as he carefully folds his pants and sets them aside on the
dresser, he's been watching too much National Geographic again.
Maybe, he muses further, as he does the same for his plain white briefs, he's
trying to put himself in a state of trance, to distance himself for whatever is
about to happen. He's not, after all, in this for the experience itself. He
wants what will come afterward, the promised arms around him, the fact that his
partner will not leave him to sleep alone, tonight.
When it happens, it's almost too fast for him to keep up with it. One moment
he's standing there in the cool indoor air, his body prickling with goosebumps,
staring at Raikou's bed - neatly made, of course, and not by Raikou - and the
next moment there are hands on his arms from behind, a warm nude form pressing
up against him, and those soft words at his ear.
"Don't turn around."
***** 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     Unsexy sex. That's about all I know to call it.
"Don't turn around."
The stubborn part of Gau immediately wonders just what will happen if he does;
if he turns around and looks Raikou right in the eyes. Demands... something,
anything. Some sort of recognition of just who he is, some acknowledgement that
Raikou isn't pretending he is someone else. One of his random men (or women,
does he take female lovers as well?) from the club or wherever it was he picks
them up.
He is tempted. And Raikou must feel it, perhaps a twitch in his muscles,
perhaps a slight turn of his head that doesn't get anywhere at all before he
halts it. However it is that his partner is tipped off, Gau finds a hand
slipping off his arm, moving up to catch at his jaw, holding just tight enough
for him to feel pressure, not quite enough to hurt.
"Gau, if you want to back out of this, you can. But if you look at me, I can't
do it. So please don't."
And all of the fight goes out of the younger teen, just like that. Because
Raikou's voice is warm, at first, struggles to find the same cool tone the
original words held. This isn'teasy for Raikou, isn't what Raikou wants with
him or what he would choose with him... he is staying because Gau asked. He is
taking this because Gau offered.
"It's all right," Gau replies, far more calmly than he feels. There is a slight
tremble through his form, as he leans back against Raikou a little, the contact
oddly soothing even now. In fact, when he speaks again, his voice comes out
even stronger, firm and steady.
"I just want to be whatever you need, tonight. Honestly, anything at all,
just... tell me what you need me to do."
"I need you to... stop talking."
He knows Raikou doesn't mean the words the way they sound, it's obvious. That
little catch in his voice, that pause... they say more than the words
themselves, mean more. Raikou needs him to be quiet, for the same reason that
he needs him not to look. Gau knows. Gau understands. Gau created this whole
situation, didn't he?
He closes his eyes, gives a little nod, and the hand on his chin is there just
long enough to feel it, and then drifts away, drifts down his body, slowly. The
touch there surprises Gau, the gentleness of it, the way Raikou's fingers slip
over his smooth skin, brushing so lightly. Down the center of his chest, over
his belly, then the hand stops... and Gau can feel a shiver go through the man
behind him as the light touch nears more intimate places.. and trips away,
upward again.
Is it that hard for Raikou to touch him there? Is it that taboo, as partners,
that wrong? Gau wants to ask, but Raikou needs him to be quiet, and this is all
about what Raikou needs. Only about what Raikou needs, about Gau somehow giving
Raikou this thing that he needs so that he can stay. So that he doesn't have to
go get it elsewhere.
Another pass, over the same territory, though the fingers brush against a
nipple and skitter away this time, hastily. The chest against Gau's back feels
warmer... as if there's a flush on the man's skin... but surely Gau is
imagining, isn't he? Surely... no, Raikou isn't blushing over him.
Maybe not. But there's a definite flush to Gau's skin now, spreading across his
entire body, as those light touches make another movement downwards, through
the tiny bit of hair that is attempting to create a trail toward Gau's groin,
spreading and thickening as it reaches it. But Raikou's fingers halt, tangled
in the tuft of hair at the base of Gau's soft member, not quite touching the
flesh itself.
The younger teen bites his lip in frustration, draws in a slow calming breath.
All Raikou is doing is making him more nervous, working him up more. It's not
appealing, not arousing, this teasing, because it's not teasing so much
as hesitation... and Gau doesn't know how he knows that, but he does know it.
Still, he is silent. He gives Raikou a little longer, waits less-than-patiently
while Raikou makes another pass, slips his hand away this time to brush over
Gau's thigh, to move outward over his hip, to rest itself there for a moment,
the fingers fluttering, nervous.
Then, when the hand doesn't begin to move again, Gau takes matters in his own
hands. Figuratively, not literally, because literally he's still letting his
arms dangle at his sides, letting Raikou have full control and not turning
around, not speaking, not moving. Doing what he's been asked.
Until he shifts his hips back, just a little, just enough to bring his butt in
contact with what the movement confirms is a completely soft cock. He frowns,
gives a little shift, causing friction between their bodies.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure you have to be hard for this to
happen. So if you're not getting anything out of touching me that way, stop
doing it."
His voice comes out flat, dry. Not the sort of voice he uses for grocery lists
or facts about their work with the Wakachi or... anything else, really. It's
far less excited than that.
Silence follows the words, and then... breath against his ear, coming out in a
little puff that is almost a laugh. There's a fond note to Raikou's voice as he
speaks, something far more personable (and personal) than anything that has
passed his lips in the last few moments. "Step forward and get up on the bed
for me then, on your knees. And... tell me if I go too far."
Stop saying that. Stop qualifying. Stop trying to change my mind. I've already
decided.
But Gau doesn't say any of those things. Instead, he simply waits for Raikou's
hands to fall away from him, and steps forward, places himself on Raikou's
pristine bed (the sheets smell so nice and clean, because Gau just washed them,
just made the bed so carefully this morning...) on his hands and knees, his
breath going a little shaky as he realizes just how vulnerable the position
makes him feel.
No one should be looking at him like this, not just nude but bent forward like
this, his limp dick hanging down between his legs, his butt in the air, his
thighs shaking, just slightly. No one should be seeing him this way, and yet he
can feel his partner's eyes on him, can feel something almost... measuring in
that gaze.
And then there's a dip to the bed, and a familiar sword-calloused hand, resting
just in the middle of his back. And all the tension flows out of him, with just
that touch, the nervousness seeping away finally, all the worry over what is
going to happen here just... flowing away. Because now, that touch is firm and
sure, not hesitant.
Raikou, despite what he said earlier, has only now made up his mind.
This belief is confirmed for Gau as the heat of Raikou's skin moves closer, as
the man bends over his body, one hand appearing on the bed beside Gau's own
arm. If Gau had been the one trying to pretend his partner was someone else, it
would have been shattered, because the tattoo around the forearm is
distinctive, definitely.
But Gau is not trying to pretend any such thing, thankfully. In fact, what Gau
wants to do is shift his hand over to rest on top of the one next to it, to
clasp his fingers around Raikou's reassuringly.
He doesn't do it. Because it's not his to do, not until Raikou tells him so.
This isn't about him. He reminds himself of that again, firmly, and is as still
as he can manage, waiting.
He doesn't have to wait long at all. In fact, the next movement comes so
quickly and so harshly that he cries out; the bite against his neck isn't the
worst pain he's ever felt in his life, by a long shot, but it's sudden and
it's Raikou and he doesn't know how to feel about it, at all. There's no blood,
but then a second later the man's other hand is wrapping around his hip
again... and the nails that sink in do indeed wind up with blood beneath them.
The slight wetness against his skin is worse than the pain itself, Gau thinks,
because it's proof that...
Yes, Raikou will do him harm.
Gau shudders, but he's careful this time to be quiet, not to voice his surprise
or the slight sliver of fear working its way through him.
The harsh touches continue for a long moment, more bites and scratches across
his pale smooth skin, drawing little gasps from him. There's no pleasure at all
in it for Gau, but... the stiffening of the member bumping against his rear end
tells him that isn't the same for Raikou, that in fact, it's pleasurable for
the other man.
That's what I'm here for, to take care of you.
So he simply bears with it, clenches his fingers into the sheets and waits for
Raikou to move on, wondering idly if his partner has decided to only take
pleasure in him this way, if maybe the samurai will rub against his backside
and maul him until he finds his completion.
He knows better than to believe it is true, but it's a tempting little fantasy.
In fact, he lets himself get lost in it, while Raikou's hand begins to move
over his body, scraping nails over his front now as well, the same areas he'd
touched so hesitantly earlier now being marked without pause.
It's surreal, how no words pass between them, how no explanation is offered up.
Raikou is always hesitant with facts about his own life, is never open or
honest with Gau about his past... in fact, the teen is pretty sure that most of
what he knows is lies. On the other hand, Raikou is always open about teaching
Gau things, about explaining his actions, his strategies, his methods... for
anything but this. In this, he is silent, taking without offering anything,
without explaining anything.
He still doesn't touch Gau's cock. Not once. And the younger teen's member
remains flaccid against his thigh, waiting for a touch that doesn't come, for a
pleasure that isn't offered. In fact, it remains so long after Raikou's touch
becomes more intimate, after slickened fingers begin to probe in places that
Gau has never been touched before, at all.
He doesn't know what to think about that; though he knew what he was offering
when he offered it, somehow he hadn't expected this... blankness, in himself.
How he isn't the slightest bit aroused, despite the fact that... he'd known
that his feelings for Raikou bordered on what might be called a crush.
Thankfully, despite the earlier roughness, Raikou is being careful not to cause
any harm, using plenty of lube and taking the time to work him open with
fingers first. Gau has never done this before, no, but he's read enough to know
that if not done carefully, it could cause a lot of damage, and while he's
willing to have that happen, if Raikou needs it... he's glad too that Raikou
doesn't need it.
By the time Raikou is actually entering him, he's almost used to the feeling:
almost. He holds himself as still as he can, tries to ignore the bruising
pressure of the grip on his hips, and reminds himself to breathe, both hands
twisting the sheets between his fingers.
He does not cry out. In fact, the act is oddly quiet, nothing but the noise of
skin slapping against skin, rough panting. Not the sort of sex people complain
about hearing their neighbors having, not the sort of vicious scream-filled
encounter that Gau himself has imagined Raikou's affairs as being.
When Gau comes, finally, it's a weak spurt of fluid that splatters against his
belly, drips slightly onto the bed, from a member that never truly got fully
hard. It's only afterward that he realizes how extremely sensitive the orgasm
has made him, and then the scream comes, as Raikou continues to smash against
his hyper-sensitized prostate and he's downright twitching and jerking with the
pressure, the stimulation.
And just like that, everything stops. A hand presses into the middle of Gau's
back, gentle but firm, and the length that's been working him open and filling
him up slips out. There's a slick slide against his cheeks, and then more
thrusting, friction against his backside as Raikou simply humps himself to
completion, sprays thickly over Gau's skin.
And honestly, all Gau can think is thank the gods and eww pretty much
simultaneously.
Silence follows, for a long moment, Raikou leaned over him on the bed, bodies
still close, practically stuck together with the stickiness between them. Gau
is still, starting to regain his composure, nearly able to catch his breath now
that it's over...
And then, still silently, Raikou moves away.
"NO!"
It's the first protest he's made, this whole time, isn't it? Surely it's not
selfish of him to hold Raikou to his part of the bargain, to make Raikou stay
with him. Just stay, that's all he's asking, and Gau doesn't realize that there
are tears in his eyes or that he's panicking until a warm hand reaches down,
brushes fingers through his dark curls.
"Getting a rag to clean you off, Gau. You don't want to sleep like that."
Of course, of course. Raikou is taking care of him now, as he promised. It's
going to be just fine, and he'll get to sleep in Raikou's bed (he's always
wanted that, hasn't he?) and then he can wake up in the morning and make
breakfast and everything will go back to normal.
The optimism of youth tells him this must be so.
And a few moments later, cleaned off and wrapped up in Raikou's arms, warm
blankets against his bare skin and pink hair drifting across his cheek, he
believes it with every beat of his heart as he drifts off to sleep.
***** 4 *****
Chapter Summary
     Every battle has an aftermath.
When Gau awakes, there are strong arms wrapped around his slight form, tight
enough that he feels quite restricted, unable to simply slip out of the bed and
go about his day. He isn't sure how he feels about this, because now that it's
morning and he feels sore and bruised and slightly itchy with scabbing
scratches, he really just wants to get up and dress and go make breakfast and
have things be normal again.
But Raikou is...
And when Gau looks over, he realizes that his partner is awake, clutching him
this tightly. Not asleep. Not dreaming of someone or something else, but
looking right at him with worry in his russet eyes and pain written all over
his face.
"Good morning," Gau says softly, when what he really wants to say is 'don't
look at me like that' or 'it's okay' or something. But none of those things
want to come out of his mouth, and he's not sure how to make them, as if he's
forgotten how to create the proper words.
He blushes, brightly, and gentle settles a hand on Raikou's chest, gives the
slightest of pushes, trying to make it clear that he wants free but isn't
angry. He doesn't want his partner to be pained by this, when the entire point
of thing had been to take care of Raikou.
"You're crushing me a little, Raikou-san."
That '-san' is still firmly in place, is still necessary, despite the fact that
they are lying in bed together, naked, still smelling of sex. In fact, it's
that '-san' that makes this all right for Gau, allows him not to feel as if he
has perhaps broken his own heart in some way. Because the nearness of Raikou,
here in the morning light, makes his heart pound in a way that it hadn't the
night before. Now that Raikou is looking at him, at Gau, in a personal
manner... he's still attracted to this man, still wants him.
Which is why he's relieved when Raikou laughs, pulls away. There's a wry tone
to his older partner's voice as he speaks, and though the worry is still there,
there's something lighter about his expression as well.
"I'm making breakfast today," Raikou declares, playfully.
Gau's stomach turns over at the the very idea, remembering the last time Raikou
made him breakfast. It wasn't that his partner didn't know how to cook, but
just that sometimes, he got as random with his ingredients as he did with his
wardrobe... and that was never a good thing.
"No, no! Here, see, I'm up! I'm just going to take a quick shower!" Just like
that, Gau bounces out of his partner's bed, despite the slight ache that
persists, despite the strange feeling in his body from new exertions. Just like
that, Gau gives up the warm rest against the older man's form that had been his
'price' for last night's activities. Just that quickly, it's done.
Perhaps they won't talk about it again. Or perhaps, the next time, he'll ask
the same thing. He doesn't know yet. He can't think about those things, because
if he lets himself think about them, they will consume him. This isn't about
him, the teen reminds himself firmly, and whatever his partner needs from him
will be what he becomes, as it has been since this man saved his life.
By the time the boy is dressed and in the kitchen cooking, he feels almost
normal. There hasn't been some kind of magic change to his mind or body that
says he's no longer a virgin, after all, and the physical aches are no worse
than a particularly rigorous round of training, if not in quite the same spots.
He's a little quieter than normal as he moves around the kitchen, but the
classical music coming out of the stereo on the countertop covers for that, and
there's nothing to say that it's anything other than a normal morning.
He's grateful for the fact that, as Raikou enters the kitchen and takes his
seat, he doesn't move to take over Gau's task, and doesn't speak of the night
before.
In fact, nothing at all is said about it, until the dishes are cleared away,
until they're sitting at that same table with laptops, notebooks, and file
folders, passing notes back and forth and putting together the latest reports
for Hattori.
"Are you sure that you're all right?" Raikou asks, his tone almost wary, as if
knowing that broaching the subject might be asking for trouble.
"If I say no, do I get out of training for the day?" Gau asks, in his best
childish-hopeful tone, his green eyes sliding toward his partner's face, taking
in the fact that those familiar russet eyes are glued to the screen and not
facing him at all.
"Perhaps." There's a twitch of lips that accompanies the single word, and a
flutter of lashes that might be a wink.
"There is this awful pain right in my..." Gau begins, but he can't seem to
maintain seriousness, and bursts into laughter before he can get the word 'ass'
out at all.
"Brat!" The older partner is swinging a book at his head lazily before he can
check the reaction, and they both laugh, as Gau manages to fall out of his
chair trying to avoid it. And maybe, just maybe, it's a little on purpose, but
the renewed twinge in his lower half is definitely worth it for the way
Raikou's face breaks out in a smile as he reaches out to help the boy up.
 
***** 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     And then the question is... what happens next time?
Time is a strange and wonderful thing. Or perhaps, Gau thinks, it's not just
the time but the fact that he always has things to do. It doesn't take long at
all for him to feel like he's back to his old routine, working hard to learn so
many things about the secret world in which he now lives, working to uphold
justice, and doing the more menial tasks of cleaning that he enjoys so much. He
sleeps in his own bed, alone, and if he's right back to pressing his face
against Raikou's pillow and inhaling his scent before he strips his partner's
bed to wash sheets, that's only normal, right?
Nights pass, judgements pass, blood washes over and around Gau in the same way
it has since he joined this Nabari world. There's never any moment where Raikou
looks at him with that same passion or fear in his gaze, though there's a
sadness there sometimes that Gau thinks wasn't before.
Raikou doesn't go out. Oh, he runs his own personal errands and goes to visit
friends, but Gau can tell the difference. There's a certain tension before that
kind of going out and Gau never sees or feels it.
It's starting to make him a little nervous, actually. He doesn't know if
something has changed, or if Raikou is simply keeping a tighter rein on
himself. Doesn't know how to interpret such a thing, knows he can't ask.
Raikou, in fact, is treating him more like a kid than ever, as if somehow
trying to restore Gau to an innocence that he can't get back, shielding him
just a little more than usual. His hands are extra gentle when he places a
bandaid on a minor cut received while training, and there's a quiet apology in
the way he touches Gau's shoulder with only his fingertips when he nudges him
toward a turn while walking together.
That touch irritates Gau so much. Fingertips, barely there, hesitant. It takes
weeks for it to happen, but it does, and it smashes Gau's feeling of sameness,
normality, being okay. It makes him crave something different, makes him want
to climb into Raikou's bed and wait for him there, or perhaps stay several
steps away at all times to prevent any touch at all.
He isn't sure which he wants, that's the problem. He isn't sure whether a
connection that is less than the romantic one he's built up in his head would
be worthwhile, or if he'd rather take those couple of steps back. Perhaps
suggest even that Raikou go out, that it might make him feel better. What he
does know, what he has always known and will always know, is that he never
wants to be more than those couple of steps away.
He'll be by Raikou's side, in some way, until the day that he dies or Raikou
forces him away, through more violence than he believes his partner would ever
inflict on him. (But he had, hadn't he? Gau had worn some of those scratches
for over a week.)
The fury that boils up in Gau is a slower rage than normal. Not the flying-off-
the-handle immediately, but perhaps something more like Raikou himself.
Holding, holding, holding, until he can't anymore. He's very nearly there, on a
particularly gray evening, walking through too-quiet streets in pursuit of yet
another mark.
It's Raikou who beats him to it, as it happens. Not because of anything in
particular, this time. Not because of a close call, or a messy kill, or even
finding the person they were looking for. This night, in fact, justice hasn't
been done. There's nothing but a threat of rain, a solemn heavy-clouded sense,
damp clinging to Gau's dark curls as they walk.
And yet.
There's that barely-there touch at his shoulder, those fingertips lightly
prodding him toward home, never grasping or closing over as they once had. And
then there's a soft voice, too soft, too controlled.
"When we get home, I'm going out."
There's a pause, as Gau considers whether he's supposed to respond to that.
It's not his to decide, not his place to argue over such a personal thing. And
the strange battle between them in the entryway doesn't seem likely to happen
again, not in quite the same way, a singular occurrence.
And yet.
"Unless."
It's a single word, said firmly and quietly. And for the first time in weeks,
Raikou's hand does close over Gau's shoulder, hold on, bringing him up short on
the sidewalk, one foot paused comically in the air for a second before it falls
to rest beside the other.
Even now, Gau is not entirely still, despite the weight of the words pressing
him down. He's restless, wanting to move, wanting to take quick shuffling
steps, carry that new weight forward into whatever the next moment will bring.
He scuffs his shoes against the sidewalk, twists his fingers together
awkwardly.
He licks his lips before he speaks, mouth feeling oddly dry. Suddenly, he
realizes, the slow-boiling rage has left him, fled in a second under the
realization of how very hard this is for Raikou, and how much Gau himself has
created that conflict. (No, not created it, only dragged it kicking and
screaming into the light of day, after his partner had attempted to hide away
that desire. He knows this, but it's hard to believe, sometimes.)
He hasn't managed an answer, and he knows he must, or the moment will pass.
It's like a real battle, that way. There's only a particular window to make the
strike, when the opponent's guard is down, and missing it can be fatal. What
would die Gau isn't sure, but he does know that if he turns Raikou down this
time, the (unasked) question won't come around again.
"When we get home," he begins, careful to keep his voice very even. He doesn't
look back at Raikou, but he doesn't need to. The sight of his partner's face is
the first thing he sees when he closes his eyes, the image that pervades most
of his dreams, the tiny doodle in the corner of every sheet of paper in his
personal notebook, the one no one sees. He doesn't need to look, can visualize
that pained expression, that hesitation, that desire. Even the remembered image
is enough to take his breath away.
"When we get home," he tries again, "I intend to undress and wait in your
bedroom."
The fingers tighten almost painfully against his shoulder and then are gone, so
quickly that he feels almost like he imagined the reaction. Raikou doesn't
offer any answer to that at all, and there's the strangeness of it again. No
explanations, no teaching, no training. This isn't something that Raikou is
readying Gau for the future with, this is for himself, and that's not something
that the samurai can talk about.
Gau knows.
And the answer, when it comes, is the simplest thing of all: Raikou's shoes
sliding off his feet just inside the door, his bare feet against the floor of
their home, a sure sign he is indeed staying.
***** 6 *****
Chapter Summary
     Gau gets his way again... sort of. But something goes very wrong.
     (Also yes intercrural in here.)
They don’t enter the room together. Gau has stated his intention, and Raikou
leaves him to it, perhaps sensing that Gau needs to make a ritual of it to calm
himself. The teenager walks into his partner’s room with steady steps, begins
to undress slowly, the door closed and his attention solely on what he’s doing.
He’s already thinking about how uncomfortable he was last time, during and
afterward. How much it had hurt when he’d finished before Raikou had, when the
pressure inside him became overwhelming in the aftermath of his orgasm.
The thoughts don’t cause any change in his actual actions, of course. He’s
already made his decision. So by the time the door opens, Gau is positioned on
the bed just as he had been before, exposed and vulnerable, on his knees.
At least this way, they won’t have the awkward battle over Raikou’s hesitation,
he thinks.
It works well enough. When his partner enters the room, Gau hears nothing but a
slight rustling of clothing, no speech at all, the steps nearly silent against
the floor.
Raikou doesn’t speak until he is bending over Gau, and Gau can feel bare flesh
against his back. His partner must have been undressing as he walked across the
room, and Gau hadn’t been able to pick out the sounds through his own
nervousness. He flushes at the thought, the image of Raikou so close against
him, incredibly intimately. In another situation, it might be... but no, that
doesn’t bear thinking about either.
“Are you sure, Gau?” comes the quiet voice, and now there was something
different in the tone. The last bits of Raikou’s control, his restraint, are
faltering. Yet still he asks.
“I’m sure,” Gau says, and his own voice comes out very different. Not wavering,
but firm. Affectionate. Devoted.
The only answer he receives is a soft kiss against his ear, before the same
hands that had savaged him so last time begin to work.
Since the last time he was in this position, Gau has analyzed the experience
quite thoroughly. He’s thought about the fact that the scratches and bites are
showy, drawing blood without causing much real damage. How they’re all on the
surface, and any actual blows - the slight slap of an open hand against his
flesh - were carefully away from anything that could really be damaged by such.
They’re designed to let out Raikou’s aggression without being dangerous, but...
less controlled than what is necessary for Wakachi work.
It’s all a very careful unleashing of energy, in the end.
Gau lets himself mull these things over even as Raikou is touching him,
detaches himself from the sensations and focuses on thinking about the reasons
why Raikou does it, the dark desires that life in the Nabari world has
instilled in his partner. He thinks about how if Raikou were a different type
of person, he could cause real harm with those desires, but he chooses instead
of carry them out in muted ways with willing partners.
This is why I follow him.
He’s distracted out of his thoughts, finally, by a rather strange sensation:
slick wetness being rubbed onto the inside of his thighs, Raikou’s hands warm
and almost gentle with the movement. He had been gentle like this the last time
when he’d prepared Gau to be entered, but that’s not what he’s doing now, and
the suddenness of the kinder touch is almost jarring.
Gau isn’t supposed to speak, he knows that. For Raikou, this is easier if he
doesn’t have to think about the fact that it’s his young partner under him,
doesn’t have to face what he’s given into accepting from Gau.
Still, the teen can’t quite stop himself from peeking back over his shoulder,
making a quiet questioning noise. What he sees is something that he never fully
looked at last time: Raikou, resting on his knees nearly at the edge of the
bed, eyes blazing with lust and something quite a bit darker, slight hints of
blood on his skin from the scratches on Gau’s.
Gau can’t bring himself to look fully on Raikou’s nudity, to give more than a
scant glance toward his erection. It would make this - for him - too much like
real sex, like the kind of sex he imagines with Raikou, and that would
complicate things too much. So he darts his eyes back up to Raikou’s face,
silently asking for an explanation about the awkward sensation between his
legs, the hand stroking there just as if the inside of his thigh were a regular
erogenous zone.
“Don’t look,” Raikou reminds him, and his voice is cool and firm enough that
Gau automatically follows the command, turning his head and lowering it so that
he’s staring down at the sheets again. He wiggles a little, feeling awkward and
like the spell is broken somehow, like he can’t get back the blankness from
before that made him able to handle this. Now he’s just overheated and in minor
discomfort from Raikou’s rough touches.
He wants to apologize, doesn’t allow himself to do so. He wants to ask
questions, but that too... it’s not about himself, he says firmly, in his own
mind. But it doesn’t matter, because the cool voice continues anyway,
explaining.
“Trying something that won’t hurt you. Press your legs together and move with
me when I move, and if it doesn’t work, I’ll take care of the rest.”
Gau’s stomach has butterflies. He’s always thought that was a stupid phrase,
really, but his mind seems determined to use it in this moment. Raikou’s voice
is still impersonal, but his touch feels much more personal, and Gau has to
force himself to stay silent, to simply give a little wag of his head in
acknowledgement, to be still and let Raikou work.
When, a moment later, he feels Raikou leaning back over him again, his
partner’s erection pressing between his legs, he tightens his thighs against
each other as he was instructed. Raikou slides one of his own hands down -
there’s a flash of ink in Gau’s vision as he peeks backward at the motion - to
rest on the outside of Gau’s leg and press inward as well, forcing even more
contact.
Then, Raikou begins to move, and Gau’s calm has to be built up again from the
beginning, one piece at a time, mental building blocks of rationality placed
between himself and the almost pleasant sensation of Raikou rutting against
him, the slick slide that brings no pain with it at all, the little jolt as the
back of his balls are brushed by a slight upward thrust.
This isn’t for me, isn’t for me, isn’t for me.
But he does something now that he didn’t dare to do before: he slides one hand
down over his own body, still bracing himself with the other, and wraps it
around his now-hardening dick.
He half-expects Raikou to slap his hand away, or protest, or stop and tell him
this isn’t working. He almost wants that, really. He almost regrets ever
starting this, now, when he is reminded all over again just how much Raikou
cares for him, just how much he desires for Gau to be comfortable and happy and
never ever hurt by anyone.
But there’s no word at all from the man behind him. It’s become that same
silence again, that same slap of flesh on flesh, the strange muted tone of what
ragged gasps escape the two bodies moving together on the bed. At least this
time, they are moving together, more so than before: Gau obediently rocks with
Raikou’s movements rather than simply trying not to fall over like last time.
This time, touching himself, Gau fully experiences the orgasm, crying out in
pleasure and losing the rhythm, biting at his lip and shuddering and trying his
best to get started moving again, so that the hard flesh still pressing between
his thighs doesn’t ever fully pull away. His senses ramp up a little just like
before, but without Raikou actually inside him, it’s almost a pleasant feeling
too, a tingling that washes over his skin and causes real moans of pleasure.
When a slender hand reaches up to cover his mouth, he doesn’t protest. And when
he’s pulled up and back so that he’s basically sitting in Raikou’s lap, he says
nothing at all about that either. He simply lets it happen, until there’s
trembling and a sticky splash across his skin, and then...
Nothing. It’s like they’re frozen in place, Gau’s mouth parted slightly behind
Raikou’s restraining hand, his slender form resting on Raikou’s thighs, the
older partner’s wilting cock sliding out from between youthful pale thighs.
Silence, nothing but breath and a tensing of muscles, a feeling of wrongness
that neither can articulate.
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