Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4265937.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      ジョジョの奇妙な冒険_|_JoJo_no_Kimyou_na_Bouken_|_JoJo's_Bizarre_Adventure
  Relationship:
      Kaaz_|_Cars/Wamuu_|_Wham, Santana/Wamuu_|_Wham, Kars/Santana
  Character:
      Kaaz_|_Cars, Wamuu_|_Wham, Santana_(Jojo)
  Additional Tags:
      Threesome, Shota, Conditioning, Voyeurism
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-07-04 Words: 4911
****** Family Bonding ******
by cliscia
Summary
     They were both spared for two very different reasons. Wamuu has been
     trained in the art of war; Santana has been trained in the art of
     flesh.
Notes
     Santana is my lazy, sleepy baby and I love him so much.
Santana thinks nothing of it when he is called for. In their dark, cozy room
with animal pelts strewn across the floor and over their bodies, Santana
wiggles closer to Wamuu briefly. The other boy is fast asleep. He must be
dreaming, Santana thinks as he lays his head down on his chest and closes his
eyes, for he has not been pushed away yet. Wamuu is always so proud and
stubborn, unlike Santana. But even his lazy, childish affections are tolerated
while Wamuu is asleep, and he curls up against him for a moment.
It feels good to lay with his adopted tribal brother. Santana’s belly is full
and the warmth of the furs lulls him farther to sleep. At that moment, he is
content and wants for nothing more.
This contentness is what makes him heed the order the second time he is called
for. The voice is stern now, urging him to wake. Santana stirs from his place
next to Wamuu and stretches, yawning a bit before he rises to take his leave.
Santana is not bothered by being woken. No, not by his Lord, for his Lord is
the one who has granted him such happy feelings. Without him he’d be dead.
Santana owes him his life and gratitude. He and Wamuu were spared for vastly
different reasons, and Santana does not envy his brother for his higher
importance to the group. Santana has had a thousand years to come to terms with
his role and place in their tribe. And as long as he is fed and given beautiful
furs to wrap around his small body to hush him to slumber, he is happy and
forever grateful.
The corridors of their shelter are dark, deep underground, but Santana does not
need a torch. He knows these halls by heart and the padding of his feet echo
softly around him. In the distance he hears the dripping of water. He knows his
tribe yearns desperately for the touch of sun, but Santana feels at peace with
the darkness. Perhaps that is why, he wonders, that he was spared for this
reason alone and not raised to be a warrior like Wamuu. The thought does not
upset him.
Light reaches his vision and spills into the dark from the behind the pelts
that veil the entrance to his Lord’s chambers. Santana reaches out to brush
them aside. They swing back heavy into place when he enters the room.
Immediately he falls to a kneel, his bare knees resting against the cool rock
ground. His eyes are trained downwards and he does not flinch when he feels a
hand on his head.
“I’ve been waiting for you Santana,” the voice above him says, “come now. We
will try something new tonight.”
Santana nods, always eager to please.
---
When Wamuu wakes, the first thing he notices is that his brother is gone. Well,
not his brother, but Santana certainly saw him as such. The boy was so
simpleminded. Wamuu made a noise of discomfort and sat up to stretch. The pelts
they slept on were warm (hunted and skinned by Wamuu himself, he remembers with
pride), but were not comparable to his companion’s warmth, which he had grown
accustomed to over the years. The fact that Santana was not asleep with him
confused him. It was his favorite hobby; Santana never passed up the
opportunity for a nap.
Wamuu sighed and resigned himself to look for the boy. Perhaps he had wandered
off too far into the night looking for a snack, and even though he was a pillar
man like himself, he was not nearly as trained in the art of combat as Wamuu
was, and he worried for his safety in the midnight jungle.
Worry was what made him rise from their nest of beddings. In the back of his
mind he knew there was no reason to fret, Santana was capable enough if not
absent minded, always drowsy and daydreaming, but he felt a certain amount of
responsibility for the boy. Their Lord had trained him to be a warrior, and the
urge to protect his tribe drove him like none else. And even though Santana was
likely fine, Wamuu did not feel as at ease with sleeping without him.
He tugged on a simple pair of pants and left their den. The boy was nowhere to
be seen through the caverns of their lair. He called his name out, his voice
echoing through the domes and dewy arches of the caves. Without hearing a
response, Wamuu frowned and contemplated his options, choosing to move on to
investigate his masters’ rooms for his missing brother; searching the jungle
could wait.
Wamuu thinks briefly of inquiring inside Esidisi’s chambers but thinks better
of it. The man tended to be manic towards the dawn and Wamuu did not fancy the
idea of bothering him lest he risk the chance of burns. His other option then
is asking their leader for his brother’s whereabouts. This he ponders more
carefully and stops in the middle of the dark hallway to weigh the pros and
cons. Their Lord was undoubtedly the most frightening, and his wrath was not
something to be provoked if Wamuu caught him in a bad mood, but he was their
leader for a reason and was always keen towards his follower’s worries,
especially Wamuu’s. His heart swells briefly with pride knowing that he was his
favored pupil.
Deciding to chance it, Wamuu turns heel and makes for the opposite side of the
caverns. He runs over his words in his head as he walks, hoping that their
master is not too busy to help him look for his brother, or at least soothe his
worries. His Lord’s rooms were not far, and he reaches them in only minutes.
There are soft sounds inside and Wamuu does not need to knock before entering. 
Wamuu stops dead in his tracks the moment he enters the room.
“Ah, the man of the hour”
The first thing he notices is that Santana is there. The second thing he
notices is his tongue wrapped around Kars’ cock. Both of their gazes turn to
him as he enters.
Wamuu gives out an indignant squawk and covers his face with his hand, a
furious blush blossoming across his cheeks. He stumbles backwards blindly
towards the exit.
“Lord Kars! I-I did not mean to disturb you,” he manages to stutter out.
He is uncharacteristically flustered, both by the sight and by his own
ignorance. How did he not think that this is where Santana would be earlier? If
he had only thought a little harder, it would have saved all of them the
embarrassment. Shame twisted in his gut knowing that his Lord would give him a
heavy punishment for disturbing him during such an intimate time.
However, instead of being reprimanded, Kars only chuckled.
“Now now, don’t leave, we’ve been waiting for you.”
Wamuu paused on his hasty retreat, hand resting on the pelts that covered the
doorway. Blood pounded hard in his ears.
“Continue,” Kars said to Santana, and his face only reddened more as he heard
the eager slurping of his brother resume.
“Now… Why don’t you turn and get comfortable? This is not a mistake, Wamuu.
Come and take a seat.”
No order from their master could ever be ignored, and Wamuu took a moment to
breathe and squeeze his eyes shut before he turned and moved to sit in the
middle of the room, trying his hardest to keep his eyes from wandering anywhere
but his brother’s naked form.
“I apologize, my Lord, I did not think to knock. I accept any punishment you
choose to give me with dignity.” He tried desperately to keep his eyes on his
hands clenched tight upon his knees. This did not keep him from hearing the
sounds of Santana’s tongue.
“Calm yourself, Wamuu. As I said, this was no mistake. We have been waiting for
you to join us.” Kars’ brilliant eyes seemed to bore into his bowed head.
“My Lord, I don’t understand.”
It was true, he didn’t. He had always known of Santana’s role in the group, but
his masters had always made sure to shield it from him. It was not the business
of young warriors, he had been told. ‘Focus on your training and Santana will
focus on his’ is what had been repeated throughout the centuries. And so Wamuu
did, careful to never let his mind wander to what duties Santana trained
himself for.
Wamuu has been trained in the art of war; Santana has been trained in the art
of flesh.
Their roles in the tribe were as different as night and day yet Santana never
complained and so Wamuu never chose to inquire about the burns he found on his
body after returning from a night with Esidisi, or the limp in his step when he
returned from Kars’ room to their safe nest of animal skins in the morning.
Although Santana was not included in decision making or any matters of
importance, he’d always said that keeping their masters’ happy was a worthy
job, and Wamuu had never questioned it. It was his destiny, what he had been
spared by their merciful Lord Kars’ to do, and the ruling of their Lord was
always absolute.
Still, seeing it up close, Wamuu couldn’t help but feel something akin to
shame.
Kars studied him for a bit as Santana wet his cock with his tongue. Wamuu
desperately tried to keep still and not bolt for the door.
“You’ve been doing well lately Wamuu. I’ve noticed your improvements in your
training.”
The praise seemed muted underneath the soft gasps and slurps that originated
from his brother.
“You’re growing up, becoming an adult. This is why I’ve brought you here
today.”
“My Lord-…?” Wamuu looked up then, confused, and Kars patted Santana’s cheek
for him to stop. Santana pulled away and looked towards his brother. He
couldn’t help but feel ashamed that he was acting so flustered when Santana was
not abashed in the slightest. Was it in his place to feel shame for his
brother’s role?
Kars seemed to understand his dismay, and tucked himself back into his robes
briefly to calm his pupil. He reclined against the carved wooden chair that he
had situated himself in. His hand wandered to comb his fingers through
Santana’s hair. Santana leaned into the touch. Wamuu choked on his breath
slightly.
“There comes a time for our species, when we mature, to begin to start wanting
for companionship beyond family. Have you felt it, Wamuu? That aching fire in
the pit of your stomach?”
Wamuu stumbled ashamedly over his words before his master cut him off.
“Do not lie to me; there is no need to feel any shame. Santana has told me how
you wake in the middle of the day, your body subconsciously craving flesh.”
Kars’ eyes narrow slyly as Wamuu’s attention flickers briefly to his brother
before gulping. “But if it’s one thing that you have, it’s honor. You have not
touched yourself before, have you?”
He shakes his head no. It’s not a lie. To do so would be undignified for a
warrior.
Kars hums and seems pleased. Santana smiles softly and leans his head more
towards Kars’ fingers, pressing at an angle that urges Kars’ to scratch behind
his small horns. He preens when their master humors his silent request.
“Consider this part of becoming an adult then. If not, then let me reward you
for all of the hard work and loyalty you have given me thus far.” Kars smiles
with all the cunning of a fox. He has but to nod his head and Santana stands
from his place at his feet.
Wamuu opens his mouth to deny ever needing to be rewarded, but the thought is
immediately gone when his brother approaches him, intent and naked. He stutters
and falls back when Santana moves to kneel before him and reach for his pants.
“Santana-!”
“You know your role and Santana knows his. We all have different duties, now
let Santana do his.” Kars’ voice is no longer understanding. Instead, it is
stern and commanding. Wamuu freezes and squeezes and squeezes his eyes shut,
desperate to not stare at Santana’s young cock hanging between his legs.
He feels his brother’s soft hands pull his pants down and Wamuu breathes
heavily. He is tense, nervous, and Santana can tell.
“Relax…” he hears Kars coo from behind them, “he is well trained. This is what
he was born to do. Let him show you everything he’s learned.”
Santana’s fingers are undeniably deft as they ease him out of his pants. His
chest is heaving with effort to stay calm, so unused to anything other than
familial touches from his brother. To have him look up at him with those big,
spacey eyes…! Wamuu chokes once more.
Taking pity on him, Santana moves to sit on his lap and stroke his arms. Wamuu
cracks his eyes just slightly to give his brother an anxious look. He’s done
this to him before to calm him, but never in such an intimate manner like this.
They are both naked now and he can feel his body flush up next to his own, his
smooth, naked skin pressing against him. He has seen Santana’s skills with
manipulating his body, and the way he eats, and for a moment he feels almost
like his prey, even though he is so far above him in importance in their tribe.
But Santana’s skin does not absorb him. Instead, just his touch immediately
calms him, and Wamuu wonders if this is part of his powers as well as his
brother leans in slowly for a kiss.
Wamuu has never kissed before. It’s a strange feeling, and his brother’s lips
are warm. But he does not push him away. Santana moves against him so expertly
that Wamuu is at a loss and lets him lead the kiss. Soft little pecks press
against his lips and Wamuu melts when he begins to rub his hands up and down
his arms and back once more. He keens into this kiss and furrows his eyebrows
when he feels Santana’s little tongue dart out to lick briefly against his
lips. Subconsciously he understands and allows him entry.
In the distance he can hear Kars’ soft breathing and he knows he’s touching
himself. This does not distract him, and if anything, spurs Santana on, wanting
to do good for their master. Something inside of Wamuu understands the pride of
mastering and brandishing a skill; though never have his skills dealt with the
art of sex.
Wamuu moans against Santana’s lips as his tongue licks expertly inside his
mouth. His face, which was flushed before, now feels red hot. All the air that
was in his lungs seems to leave him and he breathes harshly through his nose.
Santana gives a small giggle and presses his mouth more insistently against
him. His hands begin to wander from his shoulders to his back, from his arms to
his stomach, and soon Wamuu finds himself alight with the fires of pleasure.
They break away briefly to give Wamuu some time to breathe. Santana uses this
time to move from his lap to his knees, scooting back so that he can lean down
to lick his thigh. Wamuu gasps and makes a distressed noise before Santana is
shushing him with one last small kiss to his lips. His heart beats loudly
inside his chest and Wamuu feels as though he’s in a dream. Perhaps this is why
Santana is always so sleepy.
“Pet his hair,” Kars commands, and Wamuu cannot help but obey.
Santana hums appreciatively as he licks and sucks Wamuu’s thighs. He shivers
from the sight and feeling. Of course it wasn’t as though they’d never seen
each other naked before, far from it, they’d lived together for thousands of
years! But somehow having his adopted brother’s face so close to his private
area was something else entirely. Wamuu squirms harder as Santana’s fingertips
ghost over his thighs and up to his tummy. He brushes his hand against Wamuu’s
immature abs and his gut clenches up.
He is panting now, hips rolling, and Wamuu tries his hardest not to cover his
face in shame as his penis comes to life with the beginning of an erection. He
can’t hide it and even if he could, he knows that Santana is so well trained
that he could sniff it out even with clothes on. So then why isn’t Santana
touching it? Isn’t that what their masters trained him to do? Wamuu makes a
high noise and juts his hips up closer to Santana’s face. Both Santana and Kars
chuckle.
“I’m glad you’re warming up to him. It’s always good to see you two get along,”
Kars says as he strokes himself to the sight leisurely.
This seems to encourage Santana to get closer, and he’s spreading Wamuu’s
thighs before he can protest. Wamuu feels again like a trapped animal, laid out
all bare and on display for the two. His eyes dart briefly over to see Kars
stroking his large, proud cock, and Wamuu can’t help but moan at the thought.
Santana’s ears perk and he sucks enthusiastically on the inside of Wamuu’s
thigh. It will be red and stark on his skin for days later.
The nerves come back to him as Santana kneels between his legs and noses at his
balls. But at the same time, Wamuu wants for more, and he gasps out loud as
Santana licks his perineum. His tongue is flat and wet against his sensitive
area and Wamuu whines needily.
“Kars…” he manages out.
Kars does not reply for a moment, instead enjoying the two boys squirm against
each other. Wamuu’s pain is evident on his face though, and Kars takes pity on
him. After all, he is his favorite pupil.
Like a trained dog, Santana leans in to take the head of Wamuu’s leaking cock
into his mouth the second Kars snaps his fingers. Wamuu’s back arches instantly
and he cries out, lifting his hips up against Santana’s mouth. It’s like
nothing he’s ever felt before and Wamuu is helpless against the way Santana
sucks his erection farther into his mouth. The pleasure is unbearable and Wamuu
doesn’t know what to do, what to think, how to feel-
“Grab his hair hard and fuck his mouth.”
But Kars is there to guide him like always. Wamuu does as he is told. Their
master always knows best.
Santana doesn’t even flinch as Wamuu reaches out with shaky hands to fist his
wavy red hair. His grip his loose, scared of hurting his brother. He still
can’t believe this is happening, and he watches with awe as Santana bobs his
head up and down his cock, wetting him and sucking him so well that he feels
like he might explode.
“Harder. Grab him harder, shove your cock down his throat. This is what he was
born to do.”
Wamuu whines and cries in need as his fists suddenly tighten and he thrusts his
hips up harshly and apologetically. Santana doesn’t gag. He keeps his pace,
sucking him down, tongue teasing at his foreskin, pulling it back to lick
underneath. Wamuu cries out again and can’t help but to start gyrating his hips
up harder and harder. He knows he’s making pathetic noises unfit for a warrior,
but it feels so good. His brother’s mouth is driving him wild with lust.
It’s near impossible to keep his eyes open, and he squeezes them shut as he
fucks his Santana’s mouth without a tempo. He feels as though he could die, his
life getting sucked out of him through his cock, and Wamuu is desperate for the
coiling ache in his stomach to end. He doesn’t understand what it means, or
what will happen, but all he knows is that his world is alight with euphoria
and something, something, is so close he could-
“Stop,” commands their master’s ruling order, and Santana pulls away. Wamuu
whines.
Santana moves to kneel back from him, sitting in proper place with a calm
expression as if nothing had happened at all. Meanwhile, Wamuu’s chest is
heaving and his headpiece has somehow fallen off during the ordeal. His cock is
standing flush and leaking something strange and he doesn’t understand. Was
that all? But his body still felt so needy, so desperate for the touch that
Kars had told him he craved.
He doesn’t understand, but Santana’s calm gaze placates him for the moment as
Kars rises from his chair to stand. The two boys look up at him as he reaches
them and kneels behind Wamuu. Wamuu’s heart is pounding harder then it ever has
as he feels his Lord’s big, strong hands ghost across his shoulders and
reaching up to brush his knuckles against his jaw.
“L-Lord?” His voice is soft and uncharacteristically timid.
“Santana,” he says from behind him, his voice deep and commanding as he sets
his hands firmly down onto Wamuu’s shoulders, “do what we discussed earlier.”
Santana nods at the command and Wamuu gasps as he turns around and presses his
chest against the floor, lifting his ass into the air and spreading himself so
Wamuu can see his hole. It’s horribly lewd and Wamuu wants to squeeze his eyes
shut but something inside him is captivated, and he watches with fascination as
Santana’s erection dangles between his legs.
He gasps once more as he feels Kars’ hands wander down from his shoulders to
hold his hips.
“Look at him,” Kars breathes into his ear, “he’s ready for you. He’s always
been there for you and now he’s ready for you to take him. Don’t you want to,
Wamuu? Look how he aches for you.”
Kars’ hands wander into his lap to harshly grasp the base of his dick. Wamuu
cries out loudly before biting his lip to keep quiet. Kars coos into his ear as
he strokes him gentle and slow with his other hand. Wamuu does not dare move
his hips with Kars the way he had with Santana earlier.
“He did this to you, for you, do you not feel as though you should repay the
favor? He wants you, needs you. He needs you to fuck him, Wamuu. Can you do
that for him, for me?”
The words that flutter through his mind are hypnotic. Wamuu is caught under
Kars’ bewitching charm, entranced by the way Santana’s fingers held himself so
wide and open. At that moment he understands, and there is none of his dismay,
only primal longing as Kars strokes him.
“Yes,” he says, and he knows that Kars is smiling.
“Good.”
Kars lets go of his cock only briefly to pull the two into position. Santana
wiggles back against him as instructed and Wamuu lets himself be positioned as
Kars saw fit. He kneels with his hips so close to Santana’s ass, as he’s seen
animals do in the jungle. Kars’ hands are still on him, holding him in place,
and the hand returns to his erection, stroking him, and Wamuu gasps when Kars
tugs it so that it rubs against Santana’s asshole.
“Press into him,” his Lord whispers into his ear, and lets go of him.
Wamuu has never disobeyed an order.
The feeling is indescribably as Wamuu presses his cock into Santana. It feels
as though his whole body is sucking him in, eating him up. From behind his
moans, he can hear Santana do the same, and Kars groans lowly. He’s slow with
it, but soon his entire erection is embedded inside him, Santana’s ass pressed
flush up against Wamuu’s hips.
Wamuu pants and his hands shake, setting them timidly on Santana’s hips.
“Fuck him.”
Biting his lip again, Wamuu concentrates on how warm the inside of Santana’s
body is as he pulls out, only to push back in after a single moment.
“More. Harder.”
The boy before him does not resist as he begins to move his hips in tandem with
the way Santana presses back against him. Their skin slaps together lewdly and
Kars’ breath on his ear encourages him. Each time he pushes back into him,
stars light up the sky behind Wamuu’s eyelids. He is moaning without shame, the
feeling of Santana flexing around him unworldly, his body and muscles twisting
around his cock in a way that Wamuu knows is unique only to his powers.
Adrenaline rushes through Wamuu’s veins the more he gets used to the feeling of
Santana’s insides around his cock. Something terrible inside him rises up, so
similar to how he feels when he kills. Wamuu digs his fingers into Santana’s
hips and relishes Santana’s moan as he thrusts hard into him.
“Good, good,” Kars encourages, and he draws away from behind Wamuu to sit to
the side of them, relaxing back against the leopard pelt that decorates the
floor, his hand on his own erection once more.
Santana is crying out now and Wamuu is in a daze. His brother who he has always
cared for, protected, he now wants to make whine and squirm. He fucks him
harder and harder, panting, undulating his hips and delighting in the way
Santana gasps each time his dick hits a certain spot inside of him.
He feels like an adult. He feels powerful. He feels like a warrior taking his
claim as the boy underneath him whines and moans for his cock to fill him up,
fuck him harder, take him, use him, use him for the reason he was spared by
Kars’ merciful hand.
Wamuu is sweating and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. That
clenching feeling in the pit of his stomach is back again and he rocks his hips
so forcefully against Santana’s backside that he jerks forward with each
thrust. Kars watches the two boys rut against each other like animals, pleased
and entertained.
“Kars…!”
Wamuu calls out his master’s name for he knows that this pleasure was given to
him by him, not by Santana. It is only because of Kars’ benevolence that he was
given such a gift as his brother’s body. He whines and calls out for him, his
cock so hard and needy as he pounds Santana into the ground. Everything feels
white hot and he throws his head back, thighs beginning to shake. He doesn’t
know what is happening, but he knows he has to keep going, has to keep fucking
him for his master, but he feels like he might-
“Cum.”
It’s an order, and Santana lifts his head up from the ground to jerk his body
back hard against Wamuu’s hips. All of Santana’s mastery over his training is
put to use as he clenches just once around Wamuu’s cock, and suddenly Wamuu is
cumming.
He’s cumming and everything feels good and right. His nails dig harsh gashes
into Wamuu’s hips that are immediately healed. He is moaning without any shame,
and Wamuu feels like his entire world is crashing to one beautiful, glorious
end as his cock pulses inside of his brother, orgasm ripping through him so
hard his toes curl. He can barely breathe, and all of a sudden, it’s over.
Wamuu’s body shakes as he pulls out, falling back against the ground. His spent
cock twitches against his stomach and he can see something white trickle out of
Santana’s ass. He understands that Kars is praising him but he can’t understand
what words are being said.
Barely able to keep his eyes open, he watches in a haze as Santana crawls over
to Kars and settles himself down onto his much larger cock. Kars fucks the boy
ruthlessly. Santana is moaning and crying out around him and Wamuu watches as
Kars grabs his chin to steal him in for a kiss. Santana’s cock is bouncing as
he slams himself up and down on Kars’ erection, and soon Kars is groaning and
grabbing his hips and pulling Santana down so hard onto his lap that his grip
turns his skin white.
He watches  as the base of Kars’ cock twitches and his balls tighten, emptying
himself into Santana in the same way that he had done earlier. Kars keeps
Santana still impaled on him as he jerks him off, and his brother is coming in
no time at all, back arching and soft gasps escaping him. The boy slumps
forward and pants, lifting himself off of their Lord.
They stay like that for a bit, just breathing and basking in the afterglow.
Wamuu feels himself nodding off. He’s unable to stay awake, it’s so much to
take in. Faintly he feels himself being lifted up and carried. He’s grown
bigger lately, but even still Kars is able to carry him. Wamuu subconsciously
presses closer to his master.
Soon he feels himself being set down and he cracks his eyes just briefly to see
Kars settle him and Santana back into their room in their nest of furs. He
looks down at them, his broad form and long, dark, divine hair blocking any
light that may creep into their room before taking leave, and Wamuu feels
content and right at home as Santana curls up next to him to sleep, just where
he should be.
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