Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8122204.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      刀剣乱舞_|_Touken_Ranbu
  Relationship:
      Izuminokami_Kanesada/Horikawa_Kunihiro, (horikawa_thinks_it's_one-sided
      but_it's_really_not)
  Character:
      Horikawa_Kunihiro, (mentions_of_kiyomitsu_yasusada_and_mutsunokami),
      Izuminokami_Kanesada
  Additional Tags:
      Masturbation, Alternate_Universe, Pining
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-09-24 Words: 1407
****** Guilty in this Court ******
by birbcore
Summary
     Horikawa feels terrible about this, but not quite enough to stop what
     he's doing.
Notes
     So, I don't have any grand delusions about how good this fic is, I
     just really wanted to write about Horikawa jacking off guiltily.
     Thanks to @_horikane and @blooobby on Twitter for the prompt, and for
     talking out a few of the ideas that I incorporated here!
     If you wanna talk more to me about HoriKane, check out my Twitter
     @toukenranbabes.
“You sure you don’t wanna join us, Hori?” Kane-san yells from the volleyball
court he’s standing on, eyes shining bright.
“No, it’s okay, you’ve got a good 2-on-2 game going. I’ll just watch,” Horikawa
assures from the sidelines.
In reality, Horikawa is afraid that if he stands up, there would be one
immediate issue that everyone would notice. And he really doesn’t want that to
happen.
It’s a summer afternoon much like any other, and Kane-san has been playing
volleyball with he and Horikawa’s childhood friends Kiyomitsu and Yasusada,
along with a boy they have just met recently, Mutsunokami.
Horikawa had been playing with them for a bit, enjoying feeling the smack of
the volleyball against his arms and the sand beneath his feet (in an enclosed
area far, far away from any water). He had really just stepped out for a moment
to let Kiyomitsu sub in for him--a bit unwillingly--while he rested, but then.
Kane-san had to go and take off his shirt.
Of course it’s hot outside, but Horikawa really wishes that he hadn’t done
that.
Horikawa is trying his best to look at the volleyball, at his friends, at the
sky, at anything but Kane-san’s bare chest, a light sheen of sweat covering his
shoulders and chest and abs. But there isn’t much to look at that isn’t Kane-
san, to him. Kane-san with his effervescent smile and long hair, in constant
motion.
Horikawa has been horrified with himself for approximately the past five
minutes, because he has a boner underneath his khaki shorts that he’s trying
desperately to hide with the picnic table he’s sitting at. This can’t be
happening to me, why me, why now? Why at all even? Horikawa panics to himself.
It’s not that Horikawa hasn’t noticed before that Kane-san is no longer the
small thirteen-year old he still sometimes thinks of him as, just growing into
his limbs and a child in all respects. Kane-san is now sixteen years old,
having reached his full height and begun to fill out. He is nearly glowing on
the volleyball court, laughing loudly as some joke or another that Mutsunokami
has said. They talk rapidly back and forth, smiles seeming to reflect one
another’s, and Horikawa turns his head.
He is glad to say that he isn’t jealous of Mutsunokami, but he does realize
that he brings something out of Kane-san that is different than what Horikawa
himself can offer. Mutsunokami is always bright and cheerful and hilarious, and
Kane-san has opened up immensely due to having Mutsunokami in many of his
classes at school.
Horikawa’s only real problem is the one between his legs, and the one he can’t
seem to shake. If he were at home he’d simply take a cold shower, but at this
rate he’ll need to sit at the table for the rest of the time they’re out. It
doesn’t seem like Kane-san is getting any more inclined to put his shirt back
on.
Horikawa sighs, shoulders tense, and moves his gaze back to the court, Kane-
san’s broad shoulders flashing at him as he dives by.
----------
By the time that the game had ended, Horikawa’s dick had thankfully gone down,
at least enough to appear normal. He had faked a stomach illness as his reason
for not playing again, and walks home with Kane-san, interjecting sentences
into their conversation on autopilot.
As Kane-san waves goodbye, his mouth stretched in a grin, Horikawa can’t quite
meet his smile with making it part grimace. Thankfully, Kane-san doesn’t seem
to notice.
Horikawa bolts upstairs the moment that the door closes behind him, thankful
that his parents are still going to be at work for another few hours.
He plants himself heavily on his bed, rumpling the perfectly made sheets, and
takes multiple deep breaths.
Horikawa can’t believe, still, that he’d reacted the way he had to Kane-san
playing volleyball earlier. Kane-san, why does it have to be him? It couldn’t
have been anyone else, some celebrity or acquaintance or anything? Horikawa’s
stomach feels queasy from guilt. Kane-san is so pure and awkward at heart, the
boy he has seen grow up, a boy who respects him and looks up to him as an older
brother, almost.
And Horikawa wants to do things to him. Kiss him, touch him, see his bright
blue eyes glaze over when he--
No.
I can’t do this, Horikawa tries to plead to himself, to little avail. He looks
down to see his bulge is back in full, and he can’t ignore it anymore, much as
he’d like to.
Horikawa runs sweaty palms in an anxious motion across the top of his khaki
shorts, and then decides to strip them off in one quick go.
He falls back onto his bed, resituating himself and trying to think as little
as possible about what he’s about to do. Oh, sure, he could go and take a cold
shower. But something is keeping him on the bed this time, and maybe some part
of Horikawa wants to be doing this too.
Horikawa closes his eyes, feeling the sweat on his body that is partly the
humidity in the room and partly his own.
He slides one jittery hand down, unzipping his shorts, shucking them off and
casting them aside. Horikawa wrenches his eyes shut further, trying to delude
himself into believing that he can relieve his urges without thinking anything
impure.
In the end, though, he just can’t.
His mind flicks back to a highlight reel of Kane-san, and he isn’t guilty
enough yet to stop what he’s about to do. As he grips his dick in the palm of
his hand, skin already a bit slick and sticky from hours of frustration, he
remembers how beautiful Kane-san had looked earlier at the court.
Kane-san’s long black hair is the longest it’s ever been, reaching to the swell
of his ass without covering it, long and tumbling and silky. Horikawa has run
his hands through it before, but as he strokes himself to painful hardness he
imagines running his hands through it in a new way. Imagines Kane-san’s long
strands of hair curtaining his face as they kiss, pictures himself brushing
that hair back to kiss at his neck, kiss lower, even.
Horikawa tries to let the fantasy go uninterrupted for just a moment, but then
he’s remembering that Kane-san would never do that, he’s innocent and trusting
and he would be revolted if he knew what Horikawa was doing right now.
Horikawa moans, part in sexual frustration and in guilt as he tries to push
back those thoughts.
He thinks of going further down, hand playing idly with the red earrings Kane-
san has taken to wearing. He would kiss one of those darkened nipples that he
saw before, imagines pressing his lips to the delicate sides of his hipbones,
and down.
Horikawa swirls his hand around the head of his cock, leaking in earnest, now.
“God,” Horikawa sobs out, his eyes beginning to prickle with shame even as he
keeps them shut. Horikawa wants to think that if he can’t see what he’s doing
it isn’t really happening, but even he knows that that’s a lie.
He jacks himself faster, bringing his left hand to stroke along his thighs in a
twisted fantasy of what Kane-san’s touch would be like.
With how worked up he is, it isn’t a stretch for Horikawa’s imagination to go
even further. He pictures Kanesan on his back, chest bare, thighs spread to the
side. Kane-san’s hair would fan out beautifully, a flush high on his cheeks as
he struggles for breath.
In Horikawa’s fantasy, Kane-san is more than okay with submitting himself to
Horikawa in this way, and Horikawa can feel his body tightening in anticipation
as he imagines himself spreading Kane-san, sinking deep into him.
“Kane-san, I’m--so sorry,” Horikawa says with a crack in his voice, but the
Kane-san in his mind just wrenches his face up in pleasure even more. As
Horikawa feels himself start to come, he pictures pulling out and coming on
Kane-san’s defined stomach, marking it with drips of white.
In reality, Horikawa starts to blink his eyes open, slowly, and his stomach
drops like a rock.
Horikawa feels sticky and glued to his bed and nauseous, but he doesn’t think
he can convince himself that he won’t do this again.
He doesn’t know in the world he’s going to face Kane-san tomorrow.
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