Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1274668.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Ao_no_Exorcist_|_Blue_Exorcist
  Relationship:
      Okumura_Rin/Suguro_"Bon"_Ryuuji
  Character:
      Okumura_Rin, Suguro_"Bon"_Ryuuji, Miwa_Konekomaru, Shima_Renzou
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Generic_Fangirl_Continuity, Hot
      Springs_&_Onsen, Semi-Public_Sex
  Series:
      Part 10 of The_Priest's_Son_and_the_Demon
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-03-06 Words: 3118
****** Onsen ******
by the_original_n_chan
Summary
     Because there has to be a hot springs episode. Amirite?
Notes
     See series page for continuity info and disclaimer.
“Yeah, okay,” Shima said with a sigh, sliding a little deeper into the hot
spring’s waters, “this was totally worth fighting those mud demons.”
Konekomaru had to agree. Even though it had been a difficult and literally
messy struggle—he had a feeling that somebody had underestimated the strength
of the infestation, or else overestimated the skills of their esquire group. In
the end Shiemi had had to save them all again, using her familiar to summon a
dense mat of sedge (or “Aisha-chan”) to stabilize the mud flow that had
threatened to drown them. Soon after that, Rin’s flames had managed to bake the
mud solid, a byakko-generated wind had scoured away the crusty soil, and then
it had just been a case of dispelling the exposed and helpless demons. By the
time they were done, though, everyone had been coated with clinging mud from
head to foot, except for Rin, who had dried out most of his, and Takara, who as
usual had stood off to one side and done absolutely nothing. Bon in particular
had been seriously pissed off by the glop in his hair; it had made Konekomaru
very glad that he kept his own head shaved.
Now Bon leaned up against one side of the pool, arms stretched out along the
edge, his towel draped over his head and his hair flattened down from his
shower. His eyes were closed, and he looked about as relaxed as Bon ever got.
Across from him, to Konekomaru’s right, Rin was nodding off, his bounding
excitement at being at an actual onsen lapsing into a doze as the blissfully
hot water had its effect. Shima kept his ear cocked toward the dividing wall
between the pools, listening for the occasional sounds of the girls’ voices,
the faint smile playing about his lips suggesting that he was thinking
unmentionable things. Konekomaru tilted his head, looking around at their
little group. “Takara-san didn’t want to join us, then,” he mused.
Bon snorted, not bothering to open his eyes. “No, and he was a rude asshole
about it, as usual. I think he just doesn’t want to get that damn puppet wet.”
“Not Okumura-sensei either?” It was kind of sad, the way he kept himself so
separate from them all in his role of teacher. He was their age, after all; it
would have been nice if he could occasionally let himself unbend and join them.
Rin roused himself enough to mutter something about “idiot” and “moles” before
sinking back into his stupor.
Well, too bad, but in the end it was their loss. It really was the ideal onsen,
small and private, with a beautiful landscaping of stones and artfully “wild”
bushes that made it look just like a mountain spring. Above the bamboo fence,
the stars were out, glittering in the black sea of the heavens. The nip of fall
was in the air, but it just made the heat of the spring that much nicer. This
was the perfect reward for all their hard work. Konekomaru sank a little lower
in the water, enough so that it covered his shoulders. The only thing he could
have done without was the very slight sulfurous scent, which reminded him a bit
too much of the mud demons.
They sat in silence for a while, each of them enjoying the spring in his own
way. At last Bon stirred with a low huff of breath. “Okay, I’m done. I’m
getting out.”
“What, already?” Konekomaru protested. “Bon, it’s only been half an hour or
so.”
“That’s long enough for me. I’m hot.” Bon hauled himself out of the water and
wrapped his towel around his waist.
Rin had jolted awake again and was looking at Bon, bleary-eyed at first but
quickly blinking his way back to consciousness. “Oh, yeah—I think I’m gonna get
out too. I might drown if I fall asleep here.”
Shima laughed. “Okumura-kun, don’t worry, we’d pull you out.”
Konekomaru hunched slightly, feeling a flicker of anxiety as Rin scrambled out
of the water and reached for his own towel. He’d been trying very hard not to
think about that day in the library, and he’d been exceedingly grateful that
Bon and Rin had sat far apart in the pool, apparently ignoring each other. But
this...innocuous as it seemed, it had the possibility to lead to some very
suggestive places, and he really, really didn’t want to imagine those. Bad
enough trying to ignore the everyday glances and covert expressions of interest
and not think about where those might end up....
His thoughts were disrupted by a spatter of water droplets hitting his face,
spangling his glasses, and Shima spluttered, “Okumura-kun!”
“Oops, sorry—ha, ha! Sometimes this thing has a mind of its own.” Konekomaru
looked over to see Rin grab his tail and squeeze water out of the long fur at
its tip before letting it fall again to swish about his legs.
It was kind of amazing how natural Rin looked with his tail. One would think it
would seem weird and abnormal, an animal tail on a person, but the way it
flicked idly as he moved, curling and uncurling at the end, the way it merged
seamlessly into the base of his spine—it was so perfectly a part of him, as if
he’d been born with it. Konekomaru stared at that careless twitching, so very
feline, and it must have mesmerized him a little, because his mouth opened and
as if from a distance he heard himself saying, “Okumura-kun, can I touch your
tail?”
“Huh?” Rin stiffened, towel clutched protectively to his front as he looked
back over his shoulder at Konekomaru. Across the pool, Bon’s head whipped
around—he stared at them with sudden heat, adding a spike of panic to
Konekomaru’s already hideous embarrassment.
“S-Sorry!” Konekomaru stuttered. What on earth had he been thinking? He must
have completely lost his mind. “T-That was—“
“Sorry, man.” Rin was blushing but trying to smile as he hastily knotted his
towel around his waist. “Personal space, yeah?”
“Are you coming or what?” Bon growled as he turned and not-quite stomped down
the path. With a last, somewhat feeble grin at Konekomaru, Rin hurried after
him. Konekomaru slid even further down in the water. He was seriously tempted
to just sink beneath the surface and disappear.
The awkward silence left by their departure was broken at last by a long,
drawn-out sigh from Shima. “Well. It sure is a beautiful night,” he remarked.
“Yeah.” Konekomaru was having a hard time recapturing his enthusiasm for it,
though.
“I think I’m going to stay out here for a long time.”
Puzzled, Konekomaru glanced at Shima and met a speculative sidelong look. A
spark of realization flared in him, left him stunned. “You...you know too?”
Shima stifled another laugh, then settled himself more comfortably on the
underwater seat, gazing up into the sky with a wry smile. “Soooo, Koneko-san,
how long do you think we should give them?”
 
 
Ryuuji slanted a look at Rin as they entered the changing room. “You don’t
think that was a bit too obvious?” he muttered.
“Why?” Rin shrugged. “You haven’t told them yet, right? So there’s no reason
they’d think we were up to something.” Somehow he managed to convey a
suggestive leer with a flip of his tail as he walked away from Ryuuji, toward
the baskets that held their clothes. “Besides, this is all totally innocent.
Yeah?”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” Ryuuji’s gaze had gotten caught on that damned tail, watching
it swing back and forth across Rin’s legs. He’d almost freaked out back there,
but in hindsight he knew that it hadn’t meant anything, that Konekomaru had
just been overcome by the urge to pet the furry thing and hadn’t been able to
help himself. If he’d only known, though.... “Heh.” Ryuuji’s mouth curved into
a half-grim, half-amused smile as he thought of just what touching that tail
could do to Rin. “I don’t know how you stand it,” he said, “walking around with
that thing hanging out all the time.”
“Huh?” Rin looked down at his towel-covered crotch, then back at his tail, heat
coloring his face. “Um. It’s not as sensitive down near the end.” Still plenty
sensitive, though, and as Ryuuji drew near enough he reached down and caught it
by the tip, to prove the point. Rin shivered, and the long-furred end of his
tail wriggled like a captured small animal. Hand over hand, Ryuuji slowly moved
up along Rin’s tail, giving it a little stroke with each shift of his
grip—Rin’s breath was already quickening as Ryuuji reeled himself closer, his
hips twitching in short, sharp jerks at each caress, and when Ryuuji slid a
hand up under the towel Rin let out a choked, moaning whimper. Squeezing his
tail gently, Ryuuji leaned forward, bringing his mouth against Rin’s ear.
“Don’t want anyone touching this but me,” he purred, and Rin arched back
against him, gasping.
God, Rin was so fucking responsive, and each shudder, each breath and groan and
incoherent noise made Ryuuji want him all the more intensely. His tail was
always a sure thing, and Ryuuji wondered if this should be the night when he
found out if he could make Rin come from that alone. But he was still caught up
in the excitement of learning Rin, in finding new ways and places to touch him,
new reactions to trigger. Now he threaded his fingers into the back of Rin’s
hair and brushed it upward, kissed the nape of his neck, tried an experimental
nibble, and Rin let out another low sound, part growl, part whine. Rin’s hands
began tugging at Ryuuji’s towel, and Ryuuji realized with a start that Rin’s
towel had already come loose, was only staying up at all because of the way
they were pressed together.
Feeling furtive all of a sudden, like a kid sneaking a treat, Ryuuji let Rin
yank his towel open as he listened for any hint of someone approaching the
changing room. They rocked apart for just a moment, both towels falling to the
floor, and then Rin was stepping back into him, rubbing up against him, heated,
damp skin and writhing tail against his cock—and he was fucking hard already,
needing, craving, pounding with each beat of his pulse. He groaned in spite of
himself, hips working as he ground into Rin’s backside, into softly yielding
flesh. “Ah,” Rin breathed, and his hands reached back, pushing in between them
to capture Ryuuji’s dick. “Here. N-Not inside, but—like this.” And he guided
Ryuuji down until his head butted at the crack of Rin’s ass.
Ryuuji went still, a little startled. He wondered if Rin would ever stop
surprising the hell out of him. Then hunger and dizzying opportunity took him
over. “Put your hands on the shelf,” he said.
“Why?”
“Just do it,” and then, “lower. The next shelf down.” It bent Rin over
slightly, and he got it then, if the wordless catch in his throat was any sign.
He arched his back, catlike, and flipped his tail to one side. God, sweet
sight. Ryuuji leaned forward into him, pressing against his back, reached
around to grip his eager cock with one hand, to wrap the other arm about his
chest, and then he began to move again, more slowly now, controlled and
careful, wanting to feel every inch of that sliding contact, to make Rin feel
it as he rubbed up and down along Rin’s cleft. Pause and stroke and pause of
his hand on Rin’s dick, just enough action to keep him at a low burn—clearly
not enough action for Rin’s taste, because he reached down with one hand to
help things along, and Ryuuji stopped short, giving him a warning squeeze.
“Both hands on the shelf.”
“Rrrrr...f-fucking...sadist,” Rin snarled, but he put his hand back where it
belonged.
“Been disappointed yet?” Ryuuji started stroking again, faster this time,
reward or maybe sympathy, he wasn’t sure, the rhythm of his hips speeding up
some too, echoed in the movements of Rin’s body. Too good. Too good to wait, oh
God, yeah.
“Nnnn.”
“Then shut the hell up.” Ryuuji laid kisses on Rin’s shoulder, the back of his
neck, bowed his head and huffed into Rin’s hair, sending strands fluttering.
Rin was pushing back into him with every thrust, leaving him breathless, not
with the force of it but with the way Rin answered him, wanted him, wanted
this, making him ravenous for even more. “One of these days I really am gonna
fuck you in the ass,” he murmured, his voice low in his chest as he fought to
keep it from trembling. “That what you want”?
“Yes—no. I dunno,” Rin sounded like he was having increasing trouble putting
two brain cells together. Ryuuji shifted the hand not engaged with Rin’s dick,
cupped Rin’s chin, pressed his fingers to Rin’s lips, and Rin drew in a sharp
breath. “Ah. Yes. Yes.” His tongue curled out, licked Ryuuji’s fingers, lapped
them in—he began to suck on them wetly, urgently; his hands left the shelf
again, not to jerk himself off but to slide down over his hips, to grab his own
ass cheeks and spread them wider, letting Ryuuji plough more deeply. Oh. Rin
reared back, rubbing his crack fiercely against Ryuuji’s cock, his tail,
trapped between them, against Ryuuji’s stomach—he moaned deep in his throat,
sucked as if trying to get Ryuuji’s whole hand into his mouth, and God knew
what was going through his head but it was surely, almost
definitely—Ryuuji—Ryuuji—fucking him—
—and the coil of desire wound tighter, tighter, so, so tight, everything fast
now, the movement of hands and bodies, Rin and wanting and inside and oh God
yes fuck, and then it snapped as Ryuuji came so hard his knees buckled and it
was a miracle he didn’t fall over, stars across his vision and his cock
flooding out into Rin’s crack, dripping down the curves of Rin’s ass, sweet
fucking ass, mine all mine, coming to the smell of Rin’s skin, to his tensed,
straining body, his still-burning animal need, until the ecstasy ebbed at last
and Ryuuji eased back into the moment, back to Rin shaking and panting past
Ryuuji’s fingers, a desperate, thready whisper, “Bon...ah...fuck. Fuck me.”
“We’re...we’re not ready,” he muttered, still dazed. Definitely...not here, not
now...never mind that he was done, they had nothing to use for lube, people
could come in at any minute, and he was not doing it for the first time without
a bed and privacy and plenty of time to take things slow and easy. But....
“But...yeah. Yeah. We will.” Rin groaned, and Ryuuji didn’t know whether that
meant okay or thank God or Bon, I don’t think I can wait.
Reclaiming his fingers from Rin’s mouth, he hesitated, then drew them along
Rin’s cheek, his throat, his chest and stomach, over his hip, tracing faint wet
streaks. He eased them down into Rin’s crack, tentatively brushed his index
finger against Rin’s hole—it twitched, fluttered, and Rin let out a choked-taut
cry, a little too loud and high pitched. “Shh,” Ryuuji hissed in his ear, and
Rin clamped both hands over his mouth, breathing hard. Ryuuji stroked lightly
up and down, the last of the spit-dampness mingling with come now, slicking the
length of Rin’s crack, making Ryuuji’s fingers slippery, then massaged right
there, rubbing around and over Rin’s pucker as it clenched and released, as Rin
shuddered, his chest heaving with ragged, muffled gasps that suggested he
wasn’t far at all from coming.
He didn’t really get why Rin seemed to want this so much, but God, Rin did want
it—he hollowed his back, pressing himself against Ryuuji’s hand, into the
steady movements of Ryuuji’s finger—and so— With his other hand, Ryuuji started
pumping Rin’s cock again, fast, the way Rin liked it; he bit at Rin’s neck, the
curve where it met his shoulder, as he pressed inward, just the tip of his
finger, in and then out, and as he pushed in again, just a little bit further,
Rin went off, moaning, jerking violently in his grip, muscles contracting
abruptly against his finger. Ryuuji pulled his hand back but left it resting on
Rin’s ass, his other hand continuing to stroke Rin until the spasms passed,
until Rin sagged back against him, limp with release. He folded both arms
around Rin then, holding him up, or maybe holding himself up—it was hard to
tell, the way they stood propped against each other, the combination of the hot
soak and sex leaving them both falling-down relaxed. “Good?” Ryuuji muttered.
“Mm. Yeah.” The downside to their position was that he couldn’t really see
Rin’s face, though he could picture its expression of satiated bliss. Rin
sighed contentedly, then tensed a little. “I wasn’t too...uh...weird....”
“No, you were good.” Ryuuji turned his face against Rin’s hair again.
“Perfect.” Rin hummed and settled back. They had to get cleaned off and
dressed, and soon, but just a few more moments...
“Hey. Bon.” Rin’s hands had stolen up to curl around his arm. Ryuuji made a
vague sound of acknowledgment. “Are you ever gonna tell them?”
It took a moment for the words to filter through. Ryuuji stiffened a bit,
losing some of his floating languor; deliberately he made himself unknot.
“Yeah, at some point. Don’t know when, though.”
Rin hesitated, and when he spoke again his voice was lower. “Are you ashamed?”
“No!” Ryuuji shook his head for extra emphasis. Unwrapping one arm, he cupped
his hand against Rin’s bowed head, tilted it back against his own. “No...I
just...” He struggled to put the qualm that he was feeling into words. “I just
haven’t figured out how to say it.” That wasn’t good enough, he knew. Blowing
out a breath, he gathered his resolution. “I’ll do it when we get back to
school.”
“They’re your friends,” Rin said quietly. “Tell ’em when you want to. It’s all
right. It’s just that,” his fingers shifted restlessly against Ryuuji’s arm, “I
don’t like secrets.”
“They’re your friends too.” But not quite the same, and they both were aware of
that, the long history that Konekomaru and Shima had with him, childhood bonds
and family ties both. They deserved better than these long weeks of silent
evasion. And so, he knew, did Rin.
“When we’re back at the campus,” Ryuuji repeated, and he tightened his arm
around Rin’s chest. “I promise.”
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