Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5252810.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Exalted
  Character:
      Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Age_Difference, Dream_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-11-21 Words: 2086
****** Dreaming of the Keen Edge ******
by Path
Summary
     Shy and nervous Twilight Caste Ledaal Manus is overwhelmed by dreams
     of his dueling tutor.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Ledaal Manus stumbled out from dinner in shame, feeling his pulse in his ears.
It was not even the most humiliating dinner he’s ever sat through, though
Elmira’s presence and the constant fear of her letting loose and showing her
temper and castemark to everyone, including his father the satrap, made for a
more harrowing experience than usual. Terribly, she had brought a gift for him,
and made him sit through its reveal, sharing little tidbits she’d picked up
about him while trying to figure out just the right present. It was horrible,
and ended with everyone having a good laugh at his expense.
This would all be merely awful, and not a sick embarrassment sitting deep
inside him, were his sifu not also present. Yamagata Hisoki, called the Keen-
Edge by those who admired him as a warrior; the only nobleman ever to defend
his own honour in the fighting arena. He had instructed Manus in swordplay,
poetry and oratory, and some amount of history and geography for perhaps five
years. Manus had begun his studies under the Keen-Edge as a child and ended it
a young man of fifteen, and in the intervening time, had been instructed by
another. Manus is not sure why Yamagata’s instruction ended. Perhaps his father
had realized how as soon as his son had freedom to pick out his own clothing,
Manus had chosen to emulate the Thorns style of dress, slim trousers, loose
sleeves, vests and delicate jewellery. Perhaps he had noticed how Manus had
grown his hair out as Yamagata kept it, though he wore his in a long loose
tail, and Manus bound his in a braid. Most likely, the satrap had probably
noticed how his youngest son would flush brilliantly at the mention of his
sifu, how he would begin to stammer and on occasion drop things. Manus was, at
least in schoolboy crushes, like anyone else.
He took to his room, shutting the door behind him with no little relief. He
would be utterly undisturbed here, and he had no plan to speak to another human
being this evening except perhaps to say, “No, thank you, Carver, that will be
all,”. In fact, he planned on being conscious for as little time as possible;
it would make easier the hideous embarrassment that had sunk, burning, into his
gut. He removed his cuff links and the small chain that swooped from his vest
like a necklace. His hands were still shaking, and he fumbled the buttons.
Usually Carver would undress him, but Manus felt more self-conscious than
usual, and took care of it himself, without the help of his servant.
Shirt open and jewellery removed, Manus looked up from his vanity to his
mirror, meeting his own pale eyes for a moment over his spectacles. He cast a
skeptical eye at himself- too skinny and slight, he thought, his shoulders slim
and his posture feminine. Usually he was quite proud of his appearance, but his
confidence was shaken in his embarrassment. His fingers still trembled.
Certainly his schoolboy fantasies were inappropriate and improper for his
station, but besides that, he felt, they were unrealistic. He was a hair under
eighteen but felt like a gawky boy still. Perhaps if he’d been raised on the
Isle, his education, his socialization would have been broader, and his mindset
that of any Dynast... Discarding the last of his clothes, he threw himself away
from the mirror and into bed with a restless motion. He thought he’d be awake
all night, stewing, but instead, he fell into sleep nearly immediately-
-and into the arms of his sifu. The Keen-Edge was intensely handsome, Manus was
always aware, but in such close proximity it nearly overwhelmed him; his
teacher was tall, his eyes and hair dark and shining, his movements
effortlessly graceful and predatory. Manus was half-aware he was dreaming, for
it most certainly was not the first time he had found himself pressed against
Yamagata’s body like this, and such a thing would never have been permitted in
real life. All the same, he stammered a protest.
“Si…sifu,” he managed, “I beg your pardon, I should have-”
He was cut off, his body arcing in sudden sensation as his sifu placed a
dextrous hand beneath Manus’ chin, tilted his head up, and met his mouth with a
full kiss. He made some silly and helpless sound, mixed shock and pleasure, and
even to his dream ears, flushed to hear himself. His sifu’s hands pulled him
close, pressing their bodies together. Manus was intensely aware of his member,
stiff and straining, now pressing against his sifu’s leg, but the fact that his
teacher was also erect and straining for him in turn made Manus’ legs tremble.
Yamagata’s mouth moved down Manus’ neck, a burning and exquisite sensation that
seemed to pluck strings Manus hadn’t known ran though him. His tutor’s tongue
was hot against his skin, and now that Manus’ mouth was free, he moaned with
the sensation. Yamagata’s long fingers were tracing over his skin,
unforgettable patterns that Manus tried to lean into.
In the strange way of dreams, now he was lying down with no memory of having
done so. His teacher suspended himself above him, propped up on one elbow. He
kissed down Manus’ chest, licking, nipping at him. A trail of such wet patches
led back up his chest and neck, and Manus’ hips jerked unintentionally as the
marks cooled. His sifu’s fingers were tracing Manus’ hip bone, then Yamagata
shifted downwards and applied his mouth there as well. Manus whimpered again,
hips pressing into his teacher’s waiting mouth and hands. By now he felt he had
been erect and desperately straining his entire life, starving for every touch
and kiss.
Carelessly, his sifu grazed Manus’ length with his fingers, and Manus was very
nearly overwhelmed immediately. But his sifu tapped his strong fingers beneath
Manus’ chin, smiled his devious smile, and spoke to him, finally. Later, Manus
could not remember the words, exactly, but he remembered what they stirred in
him, and being on his knees a moment later was as much a rush as having his
sifu’s attention on him.
Yamagata ran a finger over Manus’ lips, just within them, caressing the lower
lip and catching Manus’ hot breaths in his hand. Then, again, but with his
sifu’s member this time, pressing the head to Manus’ lips and eager mouth. His
hands shook, and he clasped them to the back of his mentor’s thighs, slim and
strong. Yamagata eased his way in, clasping one hand to the back of his
student’s head, guiding his jaw with the other. As Yamagata began a slow
thrust, Manus began to echo the motion. His teacher let out a long, contented
sigh. “Excellent, Manus,” he said, in a lazy tone that made Manus’ own member
twitch in desire. “You may be very good at this someday, if you put the
practice in.” Manus could not help but shudder, the implication overwhelming.
Time did not seem to pass, but he was back on the bed, thrown down to the
sheets with his sifu between his legs, and then Yamagata’s mouth closed around
his length. Manus whined, a long high sound he could not control. His body
arced involuntarily, from shoulders to heels, driving his shaft into his sifu’s
hot mouth. Yamagata wrapped his arms under Manus’ thighs, seizing his hips and
forcing him into another thrust. Then he controlled Manus, slowing his erratic
thrusts to determined, intentional waves. The slow pacing was excruciating;
Manus wanted to be taken, to be rushed and overwhelmed, but his sifu had other
ways of showing his perfect control and experience.
He slowly sped his mouth’s movements on Manus’ length, and with the dedicated,
repetitive motion, Manus began to feel the oncoming release like an insistent
push inside. “Oh gods, dragons. Sifu, please-” and then Manus’ voice twisted
into a high whine as he came. Yamagata darted his head down on Manus’ shaft as
he came, spurting almost painfully into his teacher’s mouth. It was painful, it
was exquisite, and for Manus, it lasted nearly forever. His vision blackened
and was gone.
His eyes fluttered as he regained consciousness. Yamagata was smirking down at
him, half-kneeling over Manus, who had curled his arms into his chest
involuntarily as he was overwhelmed. “Very good,” his sifu said, as if the
world had not suddenly turned upside down, “but you must be trained in the
release of your partner, as well.” Before Manus could question, interpret, or
argue, Yamagata flipped him over. “On your hands and knees, please,” he said
brusquely, and Manus, shivering, forced himself out of his contentment.
Yamagata was doing something with a bottle of shining liquid, pouring it over
his fingers and hand before turning to Manus.
He slathered it everywhere, Manus felt, up and down through the crack of his
ass, down to cup balls and softening length, which gave a good effort at
pressing into hardness again at Yamagata’s slick touch. He stroked Manus
gently, sensuously, over and over, until Manus was trembling again. His elbows
shook and gave out, and Manus fell face down into his sheets. Still Yamagata
caressed him, and finally, when Manus began to feel his heartbeat through his
length once more, his sifu pressed a finger into him, a very slow and insistent
fingertip. Manus buried his head in his arms, his face burning from the
intrusion.
“Patience, of course, is the virtue of lovemaking,” his sifu said. “Taking
one’s time allows oneself to feel the truest enjoyment. And we must each of us
experience the greatest pleasure; that is the point,” his finger slid in
sharply, and Manus whimpered, “is it not?” Slowly, his sifu pulsed his finger
inside Manus, more and more of it sliding up inside him. Then, as slowly,
Yamagata removed it, and quested again, adding a second finger. Manus could
hardly notice, let alone control, the whimpers and moans he issued into the
sheets. His teacher worked them in to him slowly, slowly, then out again. Then
Yamagata was behind him, and it was his slick, thick length working up into
Manus now. Beneath his sifu, Manus keened into the sheets. It was overwhelming,
being used as this, it was in a way humiliating and disgraceful, but even so
Manus begged for it; he was needed, he was cherished, he was required.
Yamagata was inside him- his teacher, the Keen-Edge, buried hilt-deep into him
and beginning to thrust with that same deliberate, pleasurable slowness of all
his actions. Manus shivered below him. His body, his mind, everything inside
him screamed incoherent desire, pleaded for more, for harder, but actual words
failed him. His voice managed a trembling sound, barely audible until Yamagata
began to speed up at last. His thighs smacked against the back of Manus’, quick
and sharp, and Manus keened into the sheets, fingers clenched in them. The
sensation was utterly different from before- it was slow, very slow, but he
could feel it building with brief moments of heat. The Keen-Edge had one hand
on his student’s hip, and as he pounded into Manus, he spared a moment to seize
his student’s long braid with the other hand. He wrapped it around his fist,
and gave a gentle, experimental tug. Manus pulled himself up onto hands and
knees again, head pulled backwards by Yamagata’s strong grip. His back arched,
not quite painfully, and his teacher drove into him again, deeper than before
on the new angle.
Finally it hit him, the building pressure careening into him as an unavoidable
wave. It swept through him, and then again. Manus’ skin shivered, suddenly
erupting into goosebumps, and he came with driving force, crying out as the
orgasm wracked his body. Behind him, though Manus could scarcely notice, the
Keen-Edge made an appreciative sound and hammered himself into his student,
speeding up until he, too, stiffened. A low cry escaped him as he emptied his
cock into his student, prone beneath him. In time, he let out a long sigh and
pulled himself free, allowing Manus to collapse senseless to the bed-
-face down, alert, body singing, and still wearing most of his clothing from
the night before. It was utterly ruined in a second as Manus woke with a gasp
and a spasm, cock twitching as it came without his conscious touch. Panting, he
buried his face in his pillow, already horrified and red at the start of
another day.
End Notes
     poor Manus and his super unhealthy mentor worship problem
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