Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13962477.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Ensemble_Stars!_(Video_Game)
  Relationship:
      Sena_Izumi/Tsukinaga_Leo, Itsuki_Shuu/Sakuma_Rei, Hibiki_Wataru/Sakasaki
      Natsume, Kagehira_Mika/Narukami_Arashi, Narukami_Arashi/Sena_Izumi,
      Kagehira_Mika/Narukami_Arashi/Sena_Izumi, Itsuki_Shuu/Kagehira_Mika,
      Sakuma_Rei/Itsuki_Shuu/Kagehira_Mika, Sakuma_Rei/Kanzaki_Souma, Hakaze
      Kaoru/Sakuma_Rei, Morisawa_Chiaki/Shinkai_Kanata, Morisawa_Chiaki/Sena
      Izumi, Hakaze_Kaoru/Shinkai_Kanata, Sakuma_Rei/Morisawa_Chiaki/Shinkai
      Kanata, Tenshouin_Eichi/Tsukinaga_Leo, Sakuma_Rei/Tsukinaga_Leo, Hasumi
      Keito/Isara_Mao, Sakuma_Rei/Hasumi_Keito/Isara_Mao, Narukami_Arashi/Suou
      Tsukasa, Sakuma_Ritsu/Tsukasa_Suou/Narukami_Arashi, Kiryuu_Kurou/Nito
      Nazuna
  Character:
      Sena_Izumi, Tsukinaga_Leo, Itsuki_Shuu, Sakuma_Rei, Hibiki_Wataru,
      Sakasaki_Natsume, Kagehira_Mika, Narukami_Arashi, Kanzaki_Souma, Hakaze
      Kaoru, Morisawa_Chiaki, Shinkai_Kanata, Shino_Hajime, Akehoshi_Subaru,
      Hasumi_Keito, Isara_Mao, Sakuma_Ritsu, Suou_Tsukasa, Nito_Nazuna, Kiryuu
      Kurou
  Additional Tags:
      Mentions_of_past_noncon, mentions_of_past_underage, mentions_of_past
      consensual_incest, Polyamory, Alternate_Universe_-_Fantasy, Soul_Bond,
      Prostitution, Alternate_Universe_-_Royalty, Threesome_-_M/M/M,
      Shapeshifting
  Series:
      Part 2 of Fantasy_AU
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-13 Chapters: 51/51 Words: 352805
****** Sorrel, Gardenia, Hyssop ******
by daphnerunning, Galiko
Summary
     "O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
     The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
     The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
     While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
     But O heart! heart! heart!
     O the bleeding drops of red,
     Where on the deck my Captain lies,
     Fallen cold and dead. " -Walt Whitman, O Captain My Captain
     Fantasy AU Sequel.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
Captain Arashi of the Western Army, Lord of the Sharps, stalks through the
Capital Palace with murder on his mind.
 
He seeks his quarry, shoulders back, head high, until he sights it, a lone man
resolutely ignoring practice with the rest of the Kingsguard, hovering on the
edge despite the Captain’s badge on his chest. Silver hair that swept in a tail
down his back was unmistakeable, though, and Arashi walked up, put on a smile,
said, “Hello!” in a cheerful voice, then punched Izumi of the Sena house, Lord
of the North, in his stupid smug face.
 
It’s a miracle that Izumi doesn’t hit the ground like a sack of bricks.
 
He comes close, toppling backwards like he’s been hit by a fully grown Northern
horse, but he doesn’t fall, perhaps courtesy of how many hits he’s taken from
this particular man in the past. “What the fuck!” he snaps, spitting blood,
pretty sure a tooth along with it, which he knows will hurt like a bitch when
it decides to wriggle its way back into place later. “Fuck you, if you’re going
to hit me, skip the face! The hell’s gotten into you, you bitch! Is this how
you greet me after months?” At least Arashi looks good. Izumi doesn’t mind
being punched by someone handsome.
 
“I followed your advice,” Arashi snarls, shoulders set in a tense fighter’s
stance. “About love being the only thing that matters, don’t fake it if you
don’t feel it, love will find a way--bullshit! My ministers are suing the crown
to have me removed from power!”
 
Izumi pauses at that, wiping at his bloodied mouth. A couple of his men watch,
tense and concerned about their captain being punched (for good reason), but he
dismisses them with a wave of a hand. “This is sparring,” he says, an obvious,
bald-faced lie as he looks back at Arashi warily. “You could have fucking
mentioned any of their previous attempts to make you wed before it came to
this, and we could have dealt with it,” he snaps. “Instead, you’re waiting
until it comes to this? Arashi, what I said was that we’d figure it out, but if
you don’t tell me that they’re pushing you that hard, I can’t help you!”
 
“Help me how?” Arashi demands, lurching forward, aiming another hit at Izumi.
“Now I have to do what they say and they’re all angry at me, so fix this!”
 
Izumi ducks, backing away rapidly. “Don’t I always figure it out?” he snarls.
“Stop fucking trying to hit me and listen to me—damn it, we can’t talk about
this here, can you calm down for five seconds enough to sit at a table and talk
with me? Or I’m going to start punching you in the face and I won’t heal it!”
 
Arashi forces himself to relax, breathing hard, eyes still blazing with fury.
“Fine,” he says shortly. “Fine. But it has to be fast. They’re on my heels.”
 
“So your first thought was to come and punch me?” Izumi exasperatedly says,
daring to grab Arashi by the arm and haul him away. “We saw that missive come
across His Majesty’s desk this morning, but you know they still can’t do
anything to you for six months, right?” he hisses underneath his breath. “Calm
down, you idiot; why are you always like this, tell someone about your fucking
problems!”
 
“I hate whining about real problems,” Arashi mutters, not meeting Izumi’s eyes,
letting himself be led. “I didn’t want Mika to get nervous that I’d get rid of
him, he gets that way when I talk about getting married, starts thinking he’s
useless. And...I thought it would work out. Like you and Leo.”
 
“It’s not whining, it’s just telling,” Izumi flatly retorts. He stops short,
turning around to face Arashi and grasp both of his hands. “Do you know why Leo
and I worked out? Because we have children.”
 
Arashi clenches his jaw, somehow managing not to crush Izumi’s hands in his
own. “You made me think we’d figure it out. I--shit, I’m still young, I didn’t
think it would move this fast.”
 
“Yes, I said we’d figure it out, but it would have helped if you had told me it
had gotten to this point,” Izumi flatly insists. “I can’t help you if every
damned time we talk, you don’t mention it. You just need an heir, not a wife,
especially with Leo’s new laws.” His voice drops to a hiss of a whisper. “You
know I said I’d even fuck a woman for you if you wanted me to, but you have to
tell me when.”
 
“Doesn’t work,” Arashi says glumly. “Some local tradition, they’ve got some
witch that can test paternity. And I’m being sued under local laws, so I do
need a wife. But good try, though.”
 
“See, telling me that would have been helpful three years ago.”
 
“I didn’t know about this stupid rule three years ago!” Arashi snarls, letting
go of Izumi’s hands. “They kept sending women at me, but I didn’t know there
was any kind of time limit!”
 
“All right, all right, just…let’s talk with Leo about this,” Izumi firmly says,
turning around with a shake of his head. “He should hopefully be able to slow
this whole mess down a bit more. Where’s Mika, by the way? Did you leave him
behind in your desperation to punch me in the face?”
 
“I haven’t seen him in four months,” Arashi says, shoulders drooping even
farther. “He had to go train up some baby necromancer they found in the
desert.”
 
“Ah. So that’s why you’re like this.” Izumi gingerly lifts a hand, rubbing at
his jaw and feeling where his tooth has probably already grown back, at least.
“Then we’ll get this squared away before he returns and sees you acting like a
damned fool.”
 
He leads Arashi down the hall, nodding to a pair of guards posted outside of
Leo’s office door before he knocks, and then promptly lets himself in. “Your
Majesty,” he drawls, offering a bow at the door. “We have a guest, relating
directly to that letter received not four hours ago.”
 
“Ah, the bachelor miscreant!” Leo is at least looking up, though he is sitting
on the top of his chair’s back, tilting side to side, unconcerned. The desk and
walls are littered with musical notes, under rather tidy stacks of important-
looking papers. “Bring him in, I wanna tell him he’s stupid before we find him
a nice lady wife.”
 
“Hello, Your Majesty,” Arashi says wearily, drawing the door closed behind him.
“I don’t want a lady wife.”
 
“Then you need a bastard, and a lovely smile to convince your constituents that
a bastard is just as valid if they want you to be wed,” Izumi grinds out,
turning on Arashi again to scowl up at him. “Because you neglected this for so
long that you’ve made it very difficult for me to help you! The only other
thing I can think of is to promise you one of my daughters, but that’s just
strange at this point, and it’ll only buy you—what, seven, eight years? Before
I have to kill you.”
 
“Nonsense,” Leo says with a sigh, and puts his feet up on the desk, ignoring
the fact that physics seem to hint that such a thing is impossible. “Arashi,
it’s a great thing to want to be free, but this is your choice. I’ll protect
you from retaliation or execution if you choose to ignore your duty, but I
won’t stop your councilors from stripping you of your position and sending you
into exile.” He raises an eyebrow. “Your status is a public office. There are
duties attached. That’s final, do as the law commands or be stripped of it. You
can do as I did and take a concubine if you like, but you did sign this
contract.”
 
Arashi’s mouth drops, and he stares at Leo, then at Izumi. “I...fine,” he
grumbles, settling into the seat across from Leo, slumping to the side. “Izumi.
Can you teach me how to have sex with a woman?”
 
“Why don’t you agree with me so easily when I suggest things like ‘having sex
with women’?” Izumi deadpans, pushing some of Leo’s paperwork aside to sit on
the front edge of his desk, arms crossed. “But sure, I’ll teach you how to have
sex with a woman. Turn them over, imagine it’s Mika. So I guess the first step
is finding you a tiny wife with long dark hair.”
 
“I like men that look all kinds of ways,” Arashi mutters, sliding down deeper
into his chair. “I love women, you know. I just--when it’s time to, you know,
it doesn’t work. In the West, weddings are consummated with witnesses. And if
that happens, the wedding is null and void.”
 
“I’ll be your witness, then,” Izumi sniffs. “Or if they won’t allow that,
invite me to your wedding, you ass, and I’ll make sure you’re so riled up
before you go to stick it in her that there’s no way it’ll get soft. You know,
you’re not the first lord that’s only liked men. I know, I’ve tumbled more than
a few.”
 
“Can we....practice first?” Arashi asks, feeling guilty about it. “With a paid
girl, maybe? A nice one, and we’ll tip her well, you know? To keep her silent?”
 
“So, I feel like this isn’t really a matter for the King anymore,” Leo says
dryly.
 
“Oh, hush, you, we’re helping,” Izumi grouses, fluttering a dismissive hand in
Leo’s direction. “Of course we’ll practice first, do you think I’d let you
embarrass yourself? We can talk to Kasa, I’m sure he knows some lovely women
for that job. I mean, of course he doesn’t, he only ever lays hands upon the
king’s beautiful little sister.”
 
“If he lays hands on her a second before they’re married, I’ll duel him
myself,” Leo growls. “Also, even after they’re married, I expect them to avoid
touching for at least a year.”
 
“Yeah, that sounds real.” Izumi turns wearily back to Arashi, and his
expression shifts uncertainly. “You don’t think this has been aggravated
because all of the deals between the West and North, do you? People talk about
Leo and I all the time, but it’s been fairly quiet about the two of us, I
thought. My mother would tell me otherwise.”
 
Arashi shrugs. “Hard to say. People talk about everything in the West. Gossip
is basically trade there. But no one takes that much of it seriously...I
think.”
 
“I’ve heard some,” Leo says cheerfully. “No sexy ones like the ones about us,
though. All yours are that you’re soooo grateful for your position that you’re
not going to fight the Capital or the North because of trade deals.”
 
“Heeh, is that how it is? Nice, then I won’t feel bad about asking you to lick
my boots. Don’t hit me,” Izumi swiftly adds, scooting further down the desk
away from Arashi.
 
“I’m sorry for hitting you earlier, all right?” Arashi snaps. “I’m just--
I haven’t seen Mika in four months, and then this came across my damn
desk...ugh.”
 
“Yes, yes, we’re all big babies about getting married,” Leo says cheerfully.
“Try to pick a woman you like and give her a lot of power, then she won’t hate
you forever. I’ll be your source on that, my father did give me some advice.”
 
“And yet your mother still kept trying to crawl into my bed, and still does,”
Izumi deadpans, hopping off of Leo’s desk and grabbing for Arashi’s hand. “So
that means that ultimately, you probably won’t ever have to sleep with her
again once you get at least one kid out of her. Think positively, Arashi. Up
with you, come on. Let’s go drinking and leave our king all alone to work.”
 
“Wait, no, free me, take me drinking,” Leo pleads.
 
“No, no, that’s not a matter that requires a king, you said it yourself.”
 
Leo slowly pitches forward, head thunking against the desk. “I hate you both,
go have fun and drink extra for me. Come back tonight when I’ve gotten rid of
some of this really stupid paperwork.”
 
“You better clear off the desk before too long,” Izumi says, taking Arashi by
the arm to lead him from the room. “How am I supposed to toss you over it when
I’m drunk and stupid?”
 
It doesn’t exactly pan out like that, of course.
 
Izumi is as drunk as he’s able to be, and Arashi is arguably worse when they
finally stumble home to the palace in the dark of night, and Izumi tries to
blearily make his way towards his bedroom. “We,” he says, face nuzzled into
Arashi’s neck, “will absolutely get you a woman tomorrow. And it’ll be good.
I’ll make it good, because I’m good. Arashiii, you smell really—“
 
“Izumin? Kara?”
 
His own chambers are deliberately close to the palace baths, which results in a
still rather damp, steaming Mika stepping out from them just as they approach.
Those large, mismatched eyes blink back at them from behind the messy, dripping
flop of his hair, and Mika lowers his towel from his head. “I thought I’d have
t’travel all the way back West before I got to see you again,” he breathes.
“Kara, I’ve missed you soo much, I—“
 
“Yeah, bye, my room’s all yours,” Izumi says with a pat to Arashi’s back,
releasing him as he turns around, course swiftly turning to make it towards
Leo’s chambers instead.
 
Arashi runs, his limbs forgetting he’s drunk the second he sees the entirely-
too-welcome sight of Mika. He crosses the scant distance in a single step,
grabbing Mika in his arms, twirling him around. “Amaka,” he gasps, head
spinning as much as the rest of him, squeezing Mika a little tighter than he’d
let himself, if he were sober. “Mika, my darling, ugh, you’re so pretty--”
 
Mika squeaks, clinging to Arashi’s neck and trying not to kick his legs too
hard, no matter how it’s reflex when he’s scooped up and spun like that.
“K…Kara—you’re squeezin’ real tight,” he manages, frantically tapping at
Arashi’s back. “You’re gonna make me pop. W-why are you in th’ capital, I
thought there was a thing where you had to stay in the West and stuff…”
 
“Ask me again in five minutes,” Arashi groans, pulling back to stare at Mika
hungrily, like a man who’s smelled food for the first time in a week. “After I
get a chance to look at you a little bit, you’re like water for my eyes and I’m
so thirsty.”
 
“O-oh.” Mika’s cheeks flush, pleased, and he dangles contently from Arashi’s
neck, staring back at him. “If that’s the case, Milord, I’d be happy to quench
that thirst,” he cheerfully says. “Y’can keep danglin’ me like this, my feet
don’t need t’touch the ground for awhile.”
 
Arashi doesn’t bother setting Mika down, only pressing kisses to his face over
and over, and then again for good measure. “I’d do damned anything for you, you
know that, right?” he asks softly.
 
“U-um, yeah? Likewise…but, ah…kara, this is the capital, y’know, we should
probably use Izumin’s room if we don’t wanna get yelled at,” Mika nervously
says, even though he makes absolutely no attempt to pull away. “I don’t wanna
get you in trouble…”
 
Arashi growls low in his throat, then drags Mika into Izumi’s room and pulling
Mika onto his lap. “There, now we’ve got safety. So let me look at you.”
 
“Done,” Mika happily says, shedding the towel from his hair in short order, and
letting his robe drip low down his shoulders as he firmly nestles into Arashi’s
lap. “You’re all tense. Who’s been takin’ care of you for the past few months?
They suck.”
 
“No one, and I’m going to fire them all.” Arashi rests his chin on Mika’s head,
petting him gently. “I have to get married, amaka. Like, immediately. I’m
sorry.”
 
“Oh.” The word, no matter how inevitable, still ring sourly in the air. “To
who? Is she pretty?”
 
Arashi shrugs. “Haven’t picked one yet. I’m sure she will be, all girls are
pretty enough in my eyes. It’s...just a stupid law that I have to follow, it
doesn’t mean I love you any less.”
 
“I don’t wanna hear about it,” Mika grumbles, trying not to be moody about it,
and struggling more and more as the seconds tick by. “Not right now. I’ve been
in the middle of nowhere for months, dealin’ with a kid that ain’t even got
lil’ ghosties like me, and I jus’ wanted to come here and see Izumin, but got
you instead, but now this.” He huffs, staring up at Arashi. “You don’t even get
hard around girls, it ain’t gonna work.”
 
Arashi stares balefully at Izumi’s empty bed. “He was supposed to help me with
the laws,” he growls. “But he didn’t. So I’m stuck with this. King said so.
Ugh, can I please still cuddle you? I’m absolutely denied...”
 
The stare continues. “You’re drunk, haven’t seen me in four months, and you
jus’ wanna cuddle me? Kara is so pure…no wonder women are too much for him…”
 
“Yes, that’s it,” Arashi agrees, taking one of Mika’s hands in his own, then
bringing it to his mouth to kiss it. “It’s because of my purity. Just bear with
me for a moment, will you? I’m not in any sort of a mood for anything else
yet.”
 
“Lie back, and let me use you as a big warm pillow, then,” Mika grouses, his
brow knitting grumpily. “Nn, I don’t like this, if you made kids, I wouldn’t
get to be their mama. And you’d have to be in the West even more, but Izumin’s
kids are in the North, and I…” Can’t keep going back and forth even if your
wife didn’t mind me being around, that’s a lot.
 
“I could give it up.”
 
The words are quiet, and Arashi seems to shrink in on himself. “I could stop
being Lord, stop being Captain. Come North and wait there for you and Izumi to
come home to me when your duties are done.”
 
“That’s silly,” Mika mutters, twisting in Arashi’s lap to straddle it and
better stare him down. “You worked so hard, don’t do that. No,” he says more
firmly, draping his arms around Arashi’s shoulders. “You’re not allowed to do
that.”
 
“I had to offer,” Arashi says numbly. “Otherwise I’d be awful, wouldn’t I?
Ahhh, I should have stayed a carpenter’s son--I should have run away and become
a jewelry-maker like I wanted to when I was a little kid, or left with caravan
of performers that came through every year. Could you see me as a juggler?”
 
“Nope, you like swingin’ a sword around too much.” Mika sighs at him and lifts
his hands, petting Arashi’s hair gently. “Kara…I don’t like it, but I’m not
dumb. It was gonna happen no matter what, as far as I could see.”
 
Arashi steals a kiss from Mika’s lips, then drags him further into his lap. “I
have about six months to figure out how to make love to a woman. You ever done
that?”
 
“Yeah.” Mika’s expression shifts wry, his fingers lacing around the back of
Arashi’s neck. “But you don’t wanna hear about it. I dunno, it ain’t hard, but
doin’ it with men…that’s better. I like the way men smell.”
 
“Do you? Mm, I suppose it’s certainly a sexier smell,” Arashi muses, leaning in
and stealing a slow, warm kiss from Mika’s lips, mulling over the taste. “But
so many of them smell--”
 
A rap sounds at the door, followed by a guard’s voice. “I was told I could find
Lord Arashi and His Excellency Mika here,” the voice says. “The King has need
of you, Milords.”
 
“I can blow up anyone that interrupts us,” Mika moodily says, lurching forward
to kiss Arashi again, longer and deeper with a drag of his teeth against his
lower lip. “And Rei would pay for it.”
 
The rap comes again, louder this time.
 
Arashi grunts, wrapping his arms around Mika, less tightly than before now that
most of the alcohol has faded from his system. “I hate this. Gross, I just saw
the king.”
 
“Milords!”
 
“Coming!” Mika snaps, irritated enough to raise even his voice. He grabs Arashi
by the shirt to kiss him again, sucking on his tongue. “I don’t wanna see the
king at all, he’s like a wiggly lil’ squirrel,” he growls, sliding a hand down
to grab at Arashi’s laces even though he knows this can’t go much further. “So
what I meant by sayin’ I think men smell better—men like you, and Izumin, y’all
are both all clean even when you get sweaty, it’s sexy.”
 
Arashi groans, and grabs Mika between his legs, hands squeezing his slender
thighs almost hard enough to bruise. “Later,” he promises, lifting Mika off his
lap, standing him up as he does his laces back up. “Come on, the sooner we do
this, the sooner we get to come back.”
 
“This ain’t fair, and I ain’t bein’ nice to him for interruptin’,” Mika lowly
growls, huddling down into his robe and looking as cross as he ever has. “For
the next week, I’m gonna set it up so a guard comes to his room every fuckin’
time he and Izumin try to do it, and they gotta stop to do stupid important
king business.”
 
Arashi leads Mika past the guard, to whom he offers a frosty glare, and to
Leo’s chambers. “Can I ask,” he says with a sigh, gliding past the guards on
the doors, “why you must interrupt our first meeting in four mon--oh, hello,
Izumi, try to keep a leash on him.”
 
Leo looks up, eyes serious, and Arashi regrets his outburst immediately,
looking down at his feet. Fortunately, Leo doesn’t seem to mind. “Have a seat,
please? I’ve got some troubling news from the Sandlands that I need to deal
with immediately. I need Mika’s advice.”
 
Mika exhales a low, grumpy sound, and drops himself down into the nearest
chair, folding up down into a tiny ball. “What, they sent you a missive in sand
tongue?” he asks tiredly. “I’ve been travelin’ all day, I don’t wanna
translate.”
 
“Were it that simple, we would’ve made sure this waited until morning,” Izumi
apologetically says, looking far more sober than he ever wants to be.
 
Izumi’s face makes Arashi stand a little straighter. “Apologies for my
lateness, then. What can we do to help?”
 
“Southern Royalty--the ones they call the Sand Lords--have declared the
Sandlands independent of the Crown,” Leo says quietly, laying out a map.
“They’ve seized control of the major trade routes, and have captured several
entire towns between my borders and theirs. They’ve killed several of my spies.
And from what I’ve heard, they’ve sold everyone that survived into slavery.
Obviously, I can’t let this continue.”
 
“You’re gonna want to talk to Rei,” Mika dismissively says, almost too-quickly.
“He’s friends with the Otogari, one of the big names in royalty down there. If
they’re involved, he can help you.”
 
“Yes, he’s on the way,” Leo says, waving a hand. “But there’s more to it than
just knowing the royals. From what I’ve seen during my time living with them,
the only one Rei is friendly with is boy Adonis, who has very little power, as
he’s the youngest of five. From what we’ve heard, there are two factions at
work--the Sand Lords, who want independence and free trade, and the slavers,
who are taking this opportunity to destroy as many lives as they can, as
profitably as they can. You...I know it’s been a long time, and I don’t want to
open old wounds, but...if you know anything about where these people might
operate, and to whom they might be selling, that would be invaluable. Not for
me, for the people whose lives you’d be saving.”
 
“…What you’re askin’ isn’t something that can be summarized.”
 
Mika shifts, pulling his cloak over his knees as he draws them to his chest.
“Slavers have been around in the Sandlands ever since I can remember. Since my
mom could remember. I know, because if you’re a good enough whore, you get sold
to a slaver who sells y’to noblemen like all of y’all. The brothels train
people specifically for that.” Mika shrugs. “Chances are, some of the men on
your council’ve got pets from the Sandlands they keep in their summer houses.
And definitely, the noble houses in the Sandlands, they’ve all got their own
that they’ve bought up.”
 
“Arashi, please secure the door.”
 
The command from Leo sounds so kingly that Arashi moves to do as he says before
thinking about it, checking outside to shoo the guards farther away, then
shutting it, standing firm against the frame.
 
Leo leans forward, voice much quieter. “Two of the wealthiest, most influential
families in my employ have children that were taken in those slaver raids.
They’re nearly apoplectic with rage, and the Sand Lords are quietly pretending
that they aren’t being held hostage. So I need to find out exactly where these
children would be taken, or I’ve been informed that fully half of my financial
backers will defect to the Sand Lords. This has to be quiet, and it has to be
fast.”
 
There’s a sharp quip on the tip of Mika’s tongue, brought about far more by
fatigue than anything else, but it doesn’t stop the thought from moodily
echoing in his mind all the same. Would you be this frantic if it were kids
like me?He knows the answer is no, and that makes him tired. “Yeah, well, that
doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know who would’ve took ‘em,” he says,
glancing away. “There’s a lot of groups it could be, even if they’re workin’
directly with the Sand Lords.”
 
“So like I said, we’re going to need to go down there directly,” Izumi says on
a sigh, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “And do our own research.”
 
Mika’s eyes roll before he can stop himself. “Not a single man born outside of
the South’s gonna get a sliver of info out of the people runnin’ this mess. You
can’t speak sand tongue, and Southerners don’t like any of y’all unless you got
money.” His lips purse. “I can go.”
 
Leo sighs, head in his hands. “I wish you’d been so keen to help when I said it
was small villages,” he says softly. “And not when I said it was people with
power and influence. But if you’re willing to go, I won’t object. Very few
people from down there want to work with the crown.”
 
“He’s not going alone,” Arashi says sharply. “Mika, we can go as merchants,
we’ll be partners and pretend to go looking for slaves to buy. You’ll be like
my local interpreter.”
 
Mika sits up a bit, holding up painted fingers for Arashi to shut up for a
second. “With all due respect, Majesty, fuck you,” he bluntly says. “There’s
only one way t’deal with slave traders in the South, and it’s to get right into
the thick of brothels. I can’t do that in small villages, or I would’ve leapt
at th’ chance. Why haven’t you tried to make friends with a few other whores
that could help you out there, huh?”
 
“Because while I know of or could be connected with many prostitutes,” Leo says
tersely, “and I know a few people with connections in the Sandlands, few if any
of them are one and the same. In other words...I would only trust about seven
people in the world with a task like this, and you’re the only one that could
blend in to the Sandlands. So, fuck me, but do you want to save a hundred
children from a life of slavery or not?”
 
“Mika, amaka, don’t curse at the king, it’s not good for the future, please.”
 
“I’ll talk t’him however I like, ain’t like he listens to a word I’m sayin’
anyway,” Mika moodily snaps, unfolding his legs.
 
Izumi rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Mika.”
 
Mika’s lips purse. “I already said I’d help—with these rich kids that got
snatched up. I can’t go to small villages and expect to fit in, though. You’ve
gotta put me in one of the main brothels in the city, and let me work. There’s
no other way. It might trickle down to help those smaller towns, eventually—but
you need kids to spy for you there. You don’t wanna hear that, but that’s how
it is. You’ll never crack any of this unless you have whores directly reporting
back to you while they’re working. If you’re worried about loyalty, pay them.”
 
Leo slams his hands down on the desk, standing out of his chair. “You’re not
listening,” he growls. “It isn’t that these small towns have been captured.
It’s that every single inhabitant--every man, woman, child, old person, and
cripple--has been vanished into the slavery pipeline. They. Are. Missing. And I
am trying to find them, but no one will talk to my agents, so I’m turning to
the only damn people I can trust. Do I make myself fucking clear?”
 
“Yeah. Because what you’re describing is the same shit that happens all the
time.” Mika stares back at him. “They’re jus’ makin’ it obvious to you now,
‘cause they think it’s funny to piss you off and show you how good they are at
avoidin’ everythin’ you try to do to fix it.”
 
Leo throws up his hands, then turns to Izumi. “Fix this,” he snaps irritably.
 
“Up,” Izumi orders, waving a hand at Mika as he pushes away from Leo’s desk.
“We’re going back to my room to discuss this further. Arashi, you as well, come
on.”
 
Mika’s tongue sticks out grumpily, and he holds out his arms. “Kara, carry me,”
he complains.
 
Arashi lifts Mika with one arm, scooping him up, and immediately steers them
back towards Izumi’s room. “This is handled very poorly,” he mutters, boots
clicking on the stone floor. “I mean, I can’t exactly blame him for the whole
last-minute aspect of it when it’s just been sprung on him, but...”
 
“It literally hit his desk fifteen minutes ago,” Izumi tiredly says. “He
wouldn’t have brought it up if not for a dozen veiled threats hadn’t been
shoved underneath his nose as well. I know, before you say it, I know, he’s not
always the best at explaining what he wants, but it sounded to me like the two
of you were more or less on the same page.”
 
“Pisses me off,” Mika bluntly says, arms laced around Arashi’s neck. “I don’t
like it when he does that guilt trippy thing.”
 
“He’s not trying to make you feel guilty. He’s—never mind, in you go, both of
you.”
 
Izumi shuts and bolts his bedroom door behind the three of them, wiping a hand
down his face. “If you’re seriously willing to head down South and infiltrate a
brothel, that’s something the two of you need to discuss at length—but I, for
whatever it’s worth, don’t feel exactly comfortable with the idea.”
 
“I’m not here for it,” Arashi agrees. “Because Mika...it sounds like you think
you’re going to be infiltrating as a prostitute, and that’s just not happening.
We’ll go as merchants or something, you speak the Sand tongue, it’ll be fine.”
 
“Slavers don’t talk to merchants, they talk to high-class whores.” Mika flops
his way out of Arashi’s arms and onto the bed, loosening his robe again and
sprawling out. “It’d be a waste of time to do it your way. If the king wants
help, there ain’t really other options.”
 
“Wait, why did you say he should talk to Rei?” Arashi asks, suddenly
remembering that little nugget of information. “What does Rei have to do with
you infiltrating? Which, by the way, you’ve never done before, we should get a
real prostitute to do it.”
 
Mika’s head slowly turns, and he stares at Arashi through his bangs. “Didn’t
know I wasn’t a real one, kara.”
 
Izumi exhales a slow breath, and strides over to a cabinet that he opens and
quickly pulls a bottle of wine from within. “Right, about Rei.”
 
“He knows people. Sand Lords, for one. But he also has brothels down there.”
 
“First, what I meant about you not being a real one--” Arashi explains,
brushing hair out of his eyes, “I meant you’re not a current one. And you’ve
never, like...” He fumbles for words, then shrugs. “You’ve never been one with
agency, you know? You were what, six? When you bloomed?”
 
Mika’s brow furrows. “Eh? No, I was just past ten. Also, I dunno what agency
means, but I know how to be a whore, thanks.”
 
Izumi uncorks the wine bottle and drops down into a chair, not bothering with a
glass as he takes along drink straight from the bottle. “Wait, wait—Arashi,
didn’t you tell me you were seven or something when you saw him the first
time?”
 
“I was,” Arashi says, brow furrowed as he stares at Mika. “You--you were so
little, you must be remembering wrong because of all the trauma. That was
thirteen years ago, amaka, you couldn’t have been eleven.”
 
“Uhh…yeah, I know how old I am, thanks.” Mika rolls his eyes, turning over to
present both of them with his back. “‘So little’—I barely speak common tongue
and even I know the word you’re lookin’ for is ‘stunted.’”
 
“Holy shit,” Izumi says, looking over at Arashi. “You’ve been fucking an older
man all this time.”
 
Arashi blinks slowly, staring at Mika. “You’re...you’re older than me?” he
asks, stunned. “Even now?”
 
“Wow,” Izumi remarks, throwing back another gulp of wine, “it’s so good that
you’re gorgeous.”
 
“Yeah,kara,” Mika drawls. “Even now. Anyway, I was a whore for about seven
years. I think I know how to do it.”
 
Arashi sinks down to his chair, mind whirling with facts that still don’t feel
quite right to him. “I...shit. I’m going to need to process this for a while.
Also, ew, seven years? ...The Sandlands are really disgusting, aren’t they? I
thought you’d been there for a year, tops.”
 
“More wine,” Izumi suggests, leaning over and shoving the bottle into his
hands. “Trust me. Well, now I’m even more against the idea, to be honest.”
 
“Then tell your king that. He’s got no one else. Anyone north of the Sandlands
can’t fake being in the brothels. Being a slave, sure, but…” Mika flaps a hand.
“Anyway, it’s not like I gotta fuck everyone. At the really high profile
brothels, there are ways around that.”
 
Arashi takes a few swigs from the bottle, then blinks and looks down at the
label. “How dare you give me good wine when I’m drinking for drunk?” he asks
sadly. “I’ll be sorry about this later. What ways around it, amaka? I don’t
want you fucking anyone but us.”
 
“Wealthy patrons that pay for their favorites to stay exclusive.” Mika flops
around, ending up on his stomach again, but facing the two of them. “I
guarantee even Tsukasa does it. Wealthy folks pick out their favorite, and pay
a huge lump sum monthly to make sure they aren’t fucking anyone else but them.
Like a mistress, basically, but still a whore, so you’ve got a lot less to
worry about. Downside…or upside in this case, I guess? They attract slavers.
The kinda money whores like that can sell for on the market…sometimes, their
patrons are desperate enough to buy their contracts themselves, if they find
out in time about it.”
 
Arashi exhales deeply, eyes clenched shut as he takes another deep swig. “Okay.
Explain to me what you think we’re going to be doing. But honestly, if it
doesn’t sound like you can do any good, or like you’ll be able to do it safely,
I’m going to tell Leo to get another undercover agent, you’re too precious to
risk.”
 
“There isn’t anyone else,” Izumi wearily reminds him. “Unless Rei’s got the
time to slap a glamour on himself and run around in the South again, and I
doubt he does.”
 
“Yeah, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. He and Master get real flinchy and
weird about other people touching them in sexy ways these days.” Mika sighs,
plopping his chin into his hands as his feet kicks lowly behind him. “But what
he can do is trade me into a brothel, one of the ones that’s connected to the
Sand Lords, maybe, and say I’m from one of his. I’m pretty enough and I’m good
enough that I look like someone he’d have. Then I can be right in the middle of
it all and see, maybe, how people are being moved and where, which could lead
us to who has those nobles the king’s so worried about.”
 
“And...” Arashi frowns, following along, realizing how much sense it makes and
how much he hates it. “Right, so if I’m going to be your Patron, why would he
trade you if I’m already being your Patron? That should be enough to keep you
where you are, if I’m understanding it right? Or am I supposed to track you
down and become your Patron when you get where you’re going?”
 
“I’ll ask him what he thinks is best…I dunno, I’ve been out of it for awhile so
I am gonna need a refresher on how they’re doin’ stuff these days,” Mika points
out with a little shrug. “Either way, it’s kinda convenient that you’ve got
this whole…marriage scandal thing goin’ on. No one’s gonna look twice if you’re
paying for a high class whore in the South with that in mind.” Mika sticks his
tongue out and rolls over onto his back again with a sigh. “I should get my
nipples pierced again, I guess.”
 
Izumi chokes, nearly spitting out a mouthful of very good wine. “Fuck. I wanna
be your Patron, too, let me in on this.”
 
“You’re too famous, it would start to get suspicious. Besides, you can’t leave
the Kingsguard.” The words are wistful--Arashi would dearly love to bring Izumi
along, and he reaches out, brushing his fingertips over Izumi’s cheek. “I wish.
I’ll miss you.”
 
“I’m not leashed here,” Izumi grumbles, leaning into the touch and pressing a
kiss to the inside of Arashi’s palm. “If you end up needing help down there,
I’ll be the first to come,” he insists. “Like hell if I’m letting either of you
get hurt.”
 
“Just drop in and check on me at some point, then you can see me all prettied
up and Arashi can let you borrow me for a day or something,” Mika dismissively
says. “That’s convincing enough, maybe. Nnnn, I really wanted time off, though,
this suuucks…”
 
“We’ll make it fun,” Arashi assures him. “You’ll have plenty of fun downtime,
right? I mean, you can’t be expected to be on demand all the time, especially
not with a patron, right? And I’ll be expected to come take you on dates and
things, right?”
 
“Ehh…not…exactly…you’re literally just paying for sex, kara. Dates and things,
that’s for contracted slaves, more than anything…”
 
“How the hell’s that a date?” Izumi grouses.
 
“And uh, if by fun downtime y’mean giving handjobs because those still cost
money but don’t apply to the exclusivity stuff, that’s…yeah.”
 
“...Fuck this,” Arashi growls. “We’ll find someone else, I’m not letting you go
behind closed doors with horny maniac patrons just because...” Because it’s our
only chance to save hundreds of innocent people.
 
Arashi wishes his brain hadn’t reminded him of that, and grinds his teeth. “I
hate this,” he whispers.
 
Izumi opens his mouth to say something, then thinks against it, grabs his
bottle of wine, and climbs to his feet, “I’m going to let you two finish
talking this out, and I’ll keep dealing with Leo’s side of things.” He gives
Arashi’s shoulder a firm squeeze. “I’m not going to think less of you if you
change your mind about it. So. Do as you will.”
 
With that, he takes his leave, the bedroom door clicking shut behind him. Mika
huffs out a sigh, and reaches back over his head, making grabbing motions
towards Arashi. “Come to bed,” he pleads. “I don’t wanna talk about this
anymore.”
 
Arashi stands, loosening the laces of his shirt, tossing the garment off as he
climbs into the bed, laying his head in Mika’s lap. “You’ll be safe,” he says
softly. “You have to. This...I’ve never hated anything as much as the idea of
you in danger, and me unable to help.”
 
“I know it sounds bad to normal people no matter what,” Mika quietly says,
petting his fingers through Arashi’s hair and sliding them down his back.
“But…I dunno, it still sounds normal to me, kinda like going home.” He
grimaces. “Which is gross, probably, and weird, but…I dunno. I don’t think
it’ll be that bad. And I really do wanna help.” 
 
“I just...” Arashi curls up onto his side, closing his eyes, burying his face
in Mika’s abdomen. “I can’t stop thinking of the night I found you. I know that
was the worst day, but...maybe if you told me how it was, back then, on a good
day, or even a normal day, I’d be able to understand?”
 
“A lot of sitting and waiting for someone to choose you to be the one they fool
around with,” Mika wryly says, finger combing out Arashi’s hair before he
absently starts to braid it. “Honestly…most of the time is spent lookin’
pretty, and in the brothel I was in, takin’ care of a lot of the younger kids.
I didn’t have a patron or anything like that, but I was expensive, because I
was pretty enough to be, and I was in a little town, where I really stood out.
Like…yeah, there are bad people that come through. It can be really gross, and
it can hurt, but I’m older now. Some ugly guy’s dick is a lot less scary
nowadays, seriously.”
 
“Are you...going to be able to fake it?” Arashi asks, as delicately as he can.
“You’re not...exactly...good at faking it when you don’t like someone. I guess
I assumed that since you were so young, the fantasy from most people who’d
purchase someone like that would be...well. Wouldn’t require a lot of, um,
theatrical acting? Does that make sense?”
 
“Kara,” Mika begins, as delicately as he can, “did it ever occur to you that
I’m like this now ‘cause I wasn’t able to be before?”
 
“...No? Explain?”
 
“When you work in a brothel, you smile and you flirt and you’re as sweet as
they want you to be, or as scared as they want you to be. You keep your fucking
mouth shut. I don’t have to do any of that now; I can swear at the king and
tell someone I don’t like them and walk off in the middle of a conversation if
I’m real annoyed. The only thing I wish I could’ve kept is being naked all the
time, ‘cause apparently that’s not acceptable.”
 
Arashi walks his fingers up Mika’s belly, looking up at him as he circles a
finger around one clothed nipple. “And you had these pierced, huh? Mm, I don’t
want you to do it, but...I understand that it’s something that could help.
And...just so you know, my darling, I won’t judge you if you do find something
sort of fun about it.”
 
Mika pokes his tongue out, amused. “They were cute. They made me take them out
at the Academy. Ears, too, but I pierced those again with one of Master’s
sewing needles later on. I dunno, like—yeah, it was bad. I hated it a lot of
the time. But…that was when I was real little, and I was just scared all the
time. When I started gettin’ older…I was really pretty, for a one-eyed whore,
and the attention wasn’t as scary. Ahh, I’ll have to get Master to spell one of
them, so they match,” he frets, lifting a hand self-consciously to his gold
eye, “or it’ll be too obvious…”
 
“Wouldn’t it be more obvious if you didn’t have any parts missing?” Arashi
asks, mildly confused, but set more at his ease than he had been before,
reaching up to thread his fingers through Mika’s. “Oh, that reminds me. How
many people do you think would recognize you? Is that something we’re going to
have to deal with?”
 
“There are plenty of brothels that aren’t full of whores that aren’t missin’
parts. Not everyone’s into that, and a lot of nobles from the capital are
especially squeamish,” Mika says with a snort, squeezing his fingers slowly
around Arashi’s. “No one’s gonna recognize me. I was in a town way out in the
desert, not in the cities. It’s real different there. I just…wanna make sure no
nobles come through and recognize me as your wizard. That’s why Master’s gotta
hide how weird my eyes are. I can pretty myself up and look different, but the
eyes kinda ruin it.”
 
“Do you hate prettying yourself up with makeup and jewelry?” Arashi asks. His
thumb rubs in slow, reassuring circles over the back of Mika’s hand, though
Arashi thinks it’s to soothe himself just as much as it is to do anything for
Mika. “I ask, because...hmm, you’ve never done it for me, and I’d dearly love
to see you like that someday. But I wouldn’t take any pleasure in it if I knew
it’s something you hate to do.”
 
“No, it’s not that I hate it.” Mika tilts his head to the side, shrugging. “I
jus’…nnn…I’m not that good at it, myself,” he admits with a little laugh.
“Other people used to do it for me, and then Master did a little, but the
Academy had strict rules and stuff, and nowadays, I just wanna be naked and not
have anyone stare at me but you. But don’t worry, kara,” he teases, leaning
down, his hair tumbling over to fall into Arashi’s face, “I’ll make sure you
get to see me look reeeal pretty.”
 
“You’ll have to learn, right?” Arashi asks. “I mean, you won’t have anyone that
does it for you now, since you’re grown, right? Ahh, I really don’t know
anything about this whole world. You’ll have to teach me everything. Which I
think is fine, since you’re older than I am!”
 
“Nah, the fancier and prettier you are, the more useless you typically are at
gettin’ yourself that way,” Mika cheerfully says, “and if I come from one of
Rei’s brothels, theoretically, that’s really gonna be the case. Seriously, I
dunno how all of y’all are so surprised about that, he looks like he’s got
brothels.”
 
“Eh? How does someone look like they have brothels? Do I look like I have
brothels?”
 
Mika bats his eyelashes. “Nope, you look like someone that buys expensive
whores.”
 
Arashi sits up, and huffs. “That’s not fair. I’ve never had to pay for it once
in my whole life.”
 
“But there’s a stigma. Young, up and comin’ nobles like to squander their
fortunes on whores.” Mika beams at him. “I don’t make the rules, kara.”
 
“No, that’s fine--who else--what does Izumi look like?” Arashi asks eagerly.
 
“…A whore. A really expensive one, like the kind that never gets to wear
clothes because his patron buys him a lot of diamonds and wants them on his
cock or something, that kinda thing.”
 
“Wait,” Arashi says, frowning. “He wants diamonds on his cock? Wouldn’t that,
like, hurt? I have a lot to learn, I guess...”
 
“You’re really readin’ into this way too much, kara. Nnn, why are we still
talkin’ about this, I don’t wanna,” Mika complains, flopping forward against
Arashi. “Can we go back to what we were doin’ before we got interrupted by the
squirrel king? That was good.”
 
“It’s pretty far from being hard,” Arashi admits apologetically, “but if I keep
smelling you and you stick your hand in my pants, that could change. Mm, you’re
the only one that could possibly make me interested after this many hours of
horseback.”
 
“I’ve been on a horse forever, too, but I missedyou,” Mika complains, giving
Arashi’s chest a shove, as if that’s going to get him any closer to flopping
onto his back. “Nnnh, lie down, let me climb all over you again. I don’t care
if it takes awhile, I jus’ wanna kiss you and I want you to pet me.”
 
Arashi flops happily down onto his back, grabbing at Mika to pull him close.
“Mm, this is the best,” he murmurs, burying his face in Mika’s neck, inhaling
deeply through his nose. “Ah...I don’t love the smell of men like you do, but I
sure do love the smell of you.”
 
“Clean men,” Mika corrects him, happily shrugging his robes down to let them
pool around his waist as he straddles Arashi’s hips. “Like you. And Izumin. And
my master, that kinda thing.” His fingers splay over Arashi’s chest, and he
sighs at the chipped paint on his nails before he leans up to catch Arashi’s
mouth in a slow, easy kiss. “Mmn. Izumin’s the one with good wine now, huh?”
 
Arashi sucks gently on Mika’s lower lip, then smiles, letting his hands come up
to pet Mika’s hair, sliding down to gently pet every part of him that Arashi
can reach. “Mine’s still better. He’s got the cash and connections now, but he
still doesn’t have the palate. Hmm, you’re not going to be mad if I don’t go
get him, are you? I’d really like you to myself, just for one night.”
 
“If you went and got him, I’d be sooo mad at you,” Mika honestly says,
breathing out a pleased sigh through his nose as Arashi’s hands pet down his
back. “I don’t wanna share right now. I don’t ever really wanna share,” he
grouses, nuzzling into Arashi’s neck, planting a kiss there, then another, then
tilting his head up to let his teeth graze gently against the lobe of his ear.
“You’re mine.”
 
“I’ve missed you so much.”
 
The words come out more raw and honest than Arashi had intended, and he grabs
at Mika, pulling him close, burying his face in Mika’s wild hair. He breathes
in deeply, taking in the scent, feeling like he’s finally come home at the end
of a deployment abroad. “I’ll go to the end of the world if I’m with you,” he
murmurs. “Just don’t expect me to stand by if I ever see you hurt or scared.”
 
“Kara…”Mika exhales a long, shaky breath, his fingers dragging down through
Arashi’s hair as he mouths a kiss to the side of his neck again. “It wouldn’t
be you if you turned a blind eye,” he murmurs. “If the king wants a perfect
spy, he ain’t gonna find one. I’m as good as it gets and I can’t wait for you
to beat someone up if they scare me.”
 
That sets Arashi a little further at ease, and he tugs a thick duvet over both
of them, tangling his legs around Mika to grab him even closer. “Don’t forget
that you’re not a spy,” he says softly. “And you don’t owe him your life. I’m
real sorry for those kids that got taken, and I’ll gladly fight and die to get
them back home safe and sound, but it’s not worth your life, to me. Nothing
is.”
 
Mika huffs at him, and promptly wiggles the rest of the way out of his clothes,
preferring being naked and squished up against Arashi underneath blankets to
anything else in the world. “I ain’t gonna die,” he bluntly says. “Neither are
you. But I wanna help, if I can. I wish someone had tried to do the same for
me. Nnn, you’re a furnace,” he mutters happily, and idly yanks open the laces
to Arashi’s pants to stick his hands down them. “Nice.”
 
Arashi yelps, but Mika has pulled the same trick too many times to get him to
flail so hard he falls out of the bed. Not again. “Rude, amaka! Hmm, that
brings up a point, though.” He rubs his face, noting with distaste that he
badly needs to shave. It probably wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else, but he
can feel it. “I know this is embarrassingly squeamish of me, but do you think
we could make sure that you get traded to one of the places that
doesn’t...ah...have...children? I don’t know...that I could see something like
that and keep from betraying our mission.”
 
“If I’m technically one of Rei’s, then there ain’t gonna be really little
kids,” Mika reassures him, sliding his hands around to grab Arashi’s ass and
try to squeeze it. Easier said than done, when Arashi is basically nothing but
hard, solid muscle. “He wouldn’t deal in somethin’ like that. I mean, there
will probably be teenagers and stuff around, but that’s kinda…whatever. They’ll
pass me off as a teenager, too.”
 
“Not like that’ll be hard,” Arashi says with a sigh. “I still can’t believe
you’re older than I am. Ah, but I didn’t really ask...is there anyone that you
want to help, while you’re down there?”
 
Mika shakes his head. “That’s a whole other can of worms,” he admits. “And they
ain’t gonna be where I am, anyway. If the king has his way with the laws he’s
passin’…then eventually, they’ll get help, if they’re even still alive. They
probably ain’t, though.”
 
Arashi runs a hand through Mika’s hair, then extricates his fingers from the
snarls, kissing his temple. Once, Mika had frankly informed him, “Whores don’t
live long, kara,” as if it were common knowledge. Unbidden, he says, “I’m glad
you bloomed. I’m glad you got out of there. I wish I’d found you sooner and
done something about it.”
 
Mika sticks his tongue out. “You were soyoung,” he bluntly says. “What would
you’ve done? What could you’ve done? And you’re here now, so that’s all I
really care about, y’know? And hey, now I get to go down south again and not
freeze all the time.”
 
Arashi laughs. “Are you that badly off without your warming stone?” he teases.
“No thought for your poor husband, who will be sweating to death?”
 
“I like it when you’re sweaty. It’s sexy.”
 
“I’m always sweaty, I’m physically active. Why do I have to be hot?”
 
“I dunno. I don’t think it’s that hot. I think it’s comfy.”
 
“Big soft beds are comfy. Heat is sticky.”
 
“Nnh, but they have big soft beds in the south, too. And the pricey brothels
pay for wizards to come down and cool the rooms so that fickle patrons like you
aren’t so cranky.” Mika’s lips twitch, and he props his chin into one hand,
running his other fingertips down Arashi’s chest. “When you talk like that,
y’know, you really sound like a spoiled lord.”
 
“Let me be,” Arashi complains, stretching out under Mika, letting his fingers
work over his skin. “I’m under a death sentence, I guess, so might as well make
use of the little time I have left to be a brat. Spoil me.”
 
“Mm, all right.”
 
Mika ducks swiftly underneath the heavy blankets, mouthing kisses down Arashi’s
chest and stomach. “You’re so tense, kara,” he murmurs, feeling the skin
tremble underneath his lips as he presses a kiss to the jut of one hipbone.
“Just let me take care of you and you’ll feel better soon.”
 
Arashi’s breath hitches, and he shifts, letting his legs part slightly, eyes
lidding. “You okay with that being what we do tonight?” he breathes, eyes
alight. “I’ll take care of you, I promise...”
 
“Hush.” Mika’s fingers unravel Arashi’s laces the rest of the way, tugging his
breeches down. It’s dark underneath several layers of blankets, but it isn’t as
if he can ever see worth a damn anyway, so it makes little difference to him.
Better is what he can feel—the straining muscles in Arashi’s thighs, the way
his stomach hollows in with each breath or touch of Mika’s fingers, and the
twitch of his cock, slowly hardening when he lets the palm of his hand drag up
against it, warm and soft. “You don’t gotta do anything,” he sighs, his thumb
stroking slowly over the tip. “Just lie back and relax.”
 
Arashi’s head hits the pillow, and he hisses out a breath. One of his hands
grabs the sheet, the other twining in Mika’s hair, encouraging his head down.
It’s more appreciation and affection than actual direction, since Mika is far
better at this kind of thing than Arashi could ever hope to influence. “Ahhh,
that’s so good, my love...”
 
“You’re s~o wound up,” Mika teases, following the guidance of Arashi’s hand to
slither further down. “I don’t even have my mouth on it yet…mmn, well, gonna
fix that.”
 
His fingers curl around Arashi’s cock, stroking up from the base of it as his
tongue drags over the head, rubbing flat over the slit before sucking it into
his mouth with a soft, rumbling sound of approval. Arashi always tastes good to
him—masculine, but clean, even after a hard day of riding, which is more than
enough to make Mika squirm as he sucks on Arashi’s cock.
 
All Arashi can think, for a long moment, is that he’s disgusting from the ride,
that he hasn’t bathed since yesterday, that Mika must get bored of the taste of
him eventually, that he must get bored of the act eventually. He feels exposed,
foolish, and his cock twitches at the contact, then almost softens at the
sudden anxiety.
 
But the blankets are thick and soft, and Mika’s mouth is warm and wet and
welcoming, and Arashi slowly sighs, letting Mika work his magic. All of his
worries melt away, as if Mika is licking them slowly out of him, and he lets
out a soft, urgent moan. “So...good...ah, no one does this like you, your
tongue is so soft...”
 
Mika exhales a pleased noise through his nose and rewards the praise by letting
Arashi’s cock slide further into his mouth, dragging over his tongue as he
sucks on him, coaxing him gradually to full hardness. He only pulls back when
he feels Arashi twitch against his tongue, and closes his lips just around the
tip of it, sucking off the little bead of precome. “You taste so good, kara,”
he sighs, his lashes fluttering.
 
Arashi swears he feels the words more than hears them, breathed against his
cock. “You’re so beautiful,” he says softly, even if he can’t see Mika, even if
all he wants is to lie back and simply luxuriate in the feeling. Mika’s mouth
is gorgeously talented, making his thighs tense, feeling his abdomen shiver.
He’d never prefer this to being able to hold Mika in his arms and make love to
him, but there is an almost relaxing appeal to letting himself be spoiled,
loved, taken care of.
 
Mika plants a last kiss to the tip of Arashi’s cock before swallowing it again,
this time wasting little time in taking as much of it into his mouth as he can
in one bob of his head. A low, rumbling groan in the back of his throat
follows, and he scoots up closer, easing the head of Arashi’s cock down his
throat as he swallows hard, eventually nuzzling down into the curls at the base
of Arashi’s cock. He sucks slowly, his tongue dragging against him as he milks
every shiver, his hand dragging up to cup and gently stroke Arashi’s balls.
 
A shudder, low and warm, starts deep in Arashi’s abdomen and works its way
through his whole body, cresting in his nipples, his lips, his toes, his ears,
everywhere sensitive. He exhales a moan, squirming as he stretches out, mouth
parted. “Gods,” he groans, fingernails dragging against Mika’s scalp. “Nnh,
you--I swear no one does this like you--can you even hear me under there? If
you can, I love you...not just because you’re the best cocksucker I’ve ever
bedded.”
 
A little, amused snort of breath escapes against Arashi’s belly, and Mika pulls
off for a brief second, just to catch a swift breath and offer up, “Yeah, I
know” before swallowing Arashi down again, this time in one long bob of his
head that lets the head of Arashi’s cock bump and rub against his tongue, then
against the back of his throat before sliding down.
 
Arashi curses under his breath, hips lifting from the bed in an urgent twitch,
feeling himself start to drip over Mika’s tongue. His jaw aches in sympathy,
and he tries to breathe harder, tries to forcibly bring himself closer to the
edge. It never really works, and he contents himself with just thrusting
shallowly against Mika’s lips, reveling in the sweet friction. “You can use
your hand for a while, if you want,” he whispers, eyes closed. “I don’t mind.”I
would.
 
Nope. That’s the response that is as clear as day when Mika purrs around
Arashi’s cock, rubbing his nose against Arashi’s stomach and simply letting
Arashi thrust into his mouth for a moment, taking each thrust down his throat
with ease. His hair refuses to stay out of the way, sticking to and tickling
Arashi’s thighs when he moves with the rocking of Arashi’s hips, only using his
hand, if anything, to squeeze around the base of Arashi’s cock when his mouth
pulls up for a scarce moment, drawing out that aching throb, those twitchy
little shivers that he feels against his tongue.
 
Arashi hisses again, then groans, squeezing his eyes shut as Mika works him
expertly. No, he hates that, works him passionately--Mika obviously loves this,
if the little noises, the hungry little breaths and sucks, are any indication.
 
He obviously doesn’t mind the thrusting either, from the way he moves with it,
so Arashi doesn’t hold back, rutting up shamelessly against Mika’s face, though
he keeps his hands at his sides. “Please,” he moans, not even knowing what he’s
pleading for. “Please, gods, Mika--”
 
Mika whimpers in the back of his throat, and grabs blindly for one of Arashi’s
hands. He drags it to his hair, insistently holding it there as he swallows
Arashi down on his own, holding himself in place as he sucks and licks at
Arashi’s cock as much as he can when he lets his mouth be fucked. The taste
makes it to his tongue, off and on, when Arashi’s cock pulls back enough to rub
against it—heady and masculine and bitter, and he shudders, shifting where he
kneels, his own cock throbbing between his legs.
 
Heartbeats tick by, and finally, Arashi shudders hard, turning his face to bite
into the pillow’s case, spilling hot and thick over Mika’s tongue in long
spurts, dragging out the first orgasm he’s had in--
 
“Fuck,” he breathes, lying in what feels like a pool of his own sweat, chest
heaving. “That was the first time I’ve come in over a month. Sorry, I know
there must be a lot.”
 
Mika swallows long and hard, taking his time with it to make sure he doesn’t
miss a drop. Even with Arashi’s cock buried down his throat, it’s still a lot,
and he draws back after a long moment, only when Arashi’s cock has started to
go soft, licking his lips and panting out a hot breath. “There’s always a
lot…b-but…that was definitely a lot,” Mika says with a breathless laugh, slowly
crawling his way up to flop down against Arashi’s chest. “Mmn, thanks for the
meal…”
 
Arashi lets out a noise that’s more like a whimper than anything, and curls
onto his side, dragging Mika close. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, and
reaches down to palm Mika’s cock, taking his mouth in a deep kiss, ignoring the
taste for once.
 
Mika arches with a ragged gasp, the sound trailing off into a low, rumbling
groan as his hips automatically rub down, his cock dripping over Arashi’s
fingers. “C…close,” he whispers, reaching up to grip at whatever handfuls of
Arashi he can reach, which end up being both his hair and back. “C-can
you…nhhh, just talk to me, I’ll be done so fast, I p-promise, kara—ahh…”
 
Arashi kisses Mika again, stealing his lips as long as he can, then moving to
let his lips brush over Mika’s ear. “You’re so beautiful, darling, there’s no
one in the world who can make me come like that. Ahh, I wish everyone could see
how much you love that. Think I can do that, when we’re down in the Sandlands?”
His hand drags down the length of Mika’s cock, thumb rubbing over the slick
head. “Show you off, all pretty and glittery and mine?”
 
Mika buries his face into Arashi’s neck, panting out sharp, ragged breaths,
rocking forward and trembling hard as Arashi’s fingers close around him,
stroking him perfectly—but it’s the words, those damned words in Arashi’s
sweet, husky rasp against his ear that makes him spill in no time, clinging to
Arashi as his hips jerk forward and his toes curl so hard that he feels his
calves cramp and twitch. “F…fuck,” he groans, dissolving, tasting sweat when it
drips down. “K…kara…you…nhh…fuck,” he settles upon again, giving up.
 
Arashi presses a hard kiss to Mika’s temple, then folds him into his arms,
tucking Mika’s head under his chin. “There you go, darling. That’s my amaka.”
 
Mika makes a soft, grumbly noise, pleased and content, and he butts his head
underneath Arashi’s chin, content to be stuck to him, sweaty and
overstimulated. “Nhh. I quit. Everything. ‘Cept this.”
 
“Me too. This is my new job. Cuddles and handjobs, that’s all anyone gets out
of me for a while.”
 
“Okay, but you gotta put it in me at some point, or I’ll die.”
 
“You’re gonna need to wait at least an hour.”
 
“Not tonight.” Mika nuzzles at his neck. “Too sleepy. Pet me ‘till I fall
asleep.”
 
“Then you’d better fall asleep fast,” Arashi murmurs drowsily, petting. “Or
I’ll beat you to it.”
***** Chapter 2 *****
Rei and Shu arrive in the capital the next day, and Mika immediately gloms onto
the chance to be near Shu after months.
 
Training a young wizard for months has been exhausting, but being away from
Arashi and Shu takes its toll. The second Shu is within his sights—and not
having a formal conversation with anyone—Mika latches onto him, clinging to
Shu’s waist, face buried firmly into his shoulder. “Master, Master—it’s been
too long, I got things t’tell you, you gotta do maintenance on me,” he insists.
On an afterthought, he lightly adds, “Hi, Rei.”
 
“Good afternoon, little bird,” Rei fondly greets, stifling a yawn behind a
gloved hand. Human hours are, as always, so troublesome.
 
“What in the heavens is wrong with your hair?” Shu asks immediately, though his
arms are tight, face immediately buried into Mika’s hair. His arms are so tight
that he lifts Mika off the ground, just breathing, and mutters, “Obviously I
knew you’d be fine, I wasn’t worried at all, Rei is a liar if he says
otherwise.”
 
“He wouldn’t stop fretting,” Rei provides without batting an eye. “I think he
knitted five different sweaters. For cats.”
 
“Nice,” Mika says, looping his arms about Shu’s neck to happily dangle there,
his legs swaying back and forth. “Master, you gotta fix my hair and make me
look pretty.”
 
“How am I supposed to do such a thing when you’re clinging to me so?” Shu’s
voice doesn’t contain much irritation, however, and he sits with a huff,
encouraging Mika to sit on the floor in front of him. “Rei, make yourself
useful and bring my hair tools. Oils, picks, and combs, as well as a ribbon. Do
you have a theme in mind, or shall I make it up myself?”
 
Mika plops down, legs splaying out underneath him as he stares up at Shu
through his thoroughly mussed bangs. “Yeah. Like I’m the most expensive whore
you’ve ever met.”
 
Rei chokes on a breath, nearly dropping the caddy in question. “You know,” he
says conversationally, “there’s been a bit too much talk of that sort of thing
lately. The king, then—“
 
“Yeah. He probably talked to you about those kids, huh?” Mika sticks out his
tongue. “I gotta go down to the South and help.”
 
“Then fetch my jeweled hair sticks as well,” Shu says with a sigh, plucking oil
and picks out of the caddy, starting to work on the long tangles spilling down
Mika’s back. “I’ve been hearing rumors. I assume you’ve got a plan to throw
yourself in an absurd amount of danger? I must really teach you both the
benefits of scholarship that keeps you out of the public view.”
 
“Nnn…I felt bad about the kids,” Mika softly admits, tilting his head forward
and staying still to let Shu work. “And it ain’t like the king’s got anyone
else that’s trustworthy, y’know? I dunno, I dunno.”
 
“The king certainly did contact me,” Rei slowly says, rummaging through Shu’s
stashes of jewelry and accessories. “Though I am rather annoyed that he would
contact you about this as well.”
 
“It ain’t like it’s a secret about where I’m from.”
 
“That’s not my issue. My issue is that he now expects you to be put into a very
dangerous situation. Ah, well, more for me to discuss with him today and scold
him about.”
 
“Rei, please don’t act as though you think I trained someone incapable of
taking care of himself in a dangerous situation,” Shu says, blinking down as
his hands work. “It will do no one any good to lecture him about something he
obviously must do, you fool. Instead, I expect you to expend your energy in the
procurement of companions for him. Mika, do you want to be sealed now, or
later?”
 
Mika grimaces at the thought. “Better to get it over with, I guess, so I get
used to it,” he settles upon, fiddling with the ends of his robes. “And…you
gotta make my eyes match. If you don’t, it’s too obvious.”
 
“Companions? Honestly,” Rei sighs, setting down the hair sticks in question for
Shu and then dropping down into a chair, chin in hand. “I suppose I know of a
few that might be helpful. Ah, but I still worry, the Sandlands aren’t as calm
as they used to be.”
 
Shu’s hands still, and he bites his bottom lip. “I can put a glamor on it,” he
says hesitantly, “but a powerful enough wizard might be able to tell, or even
dispel it. But changing the color of it...that will hurt, you know. Even with a
touch as deft as mine.”
 
“Yeah, but you gotta.” Mika tilts his head back, expression wry. “You could do
the clonin’ spell, so it temporarily copies over one or the other? Do the blue
one, then I’ll be like, pretty close to blind, that’s a good gimmick.”
 
Shu clicks his teeth, then nods. “Rei, be a darling and tell Izumi I’ll need
one of his fingers, will you? That will ease the pressure on you considerably--
it might even be somewhat comfortable, after a while. And at least you’ll be
able to see some in the daytime that way. Just promise me you won’t go out at
night without help.”
 
Rei heaves himself to his feet with another, stifled yawn, patting the top of
Mika’s head as he passes and leaves the room, and Mika wrinkles his nose. “I
mean, I think I’m gonna be pretty busy at night,” he says with a snort. “Well,
theoretically. Arashi’s not exactly on board with any of this. I told ‘im he
needs to pay to be my patron. I figured Rei can help set that all up so it
looks legit.”
 
“That...might work.” Shu works his way to the top of a tangle, starting at the
end of another and working his way up. “Though I can’t imagine that’ll do his
woman-hating reputation any good, and might well hurt his chances of making a
good marriage if anyone of consequence were to discover him. Doubtless he
hasn’t put much thought into it. He must be quite good in bed, I thought I
brought you up to be more attracted to brains than brawn, but we all make
mistakes. At least, you do.”
 
“Yeah, Master likes the overthinkers, huh?” Mika gently teases, barely swaying
with the brushing of his hair, doing his best to stay still. “I never thought
I’d end up with someone like Arashi,” he admits. “I mean…with anyone at all,
honestly, but not someone like him for sure. But…I dunno, he’s different. Maybe
he hasn’t thought this kinda thing through at all, but that’s what I like about
him. He wants me to be safe no matter what.”
 
“I,” Shu says frankly, “never thought that you’d end up with someone who likes
to top so much.”
 
“Yeah, basically. I ain’t never put it in him. I dunno why I’m like this, I
jus’ want him to break me in half.” Mika shrugs. “Izumin’s funny about it,
‘cuz, y’know, obviously, if you’re a prostitute, you’re a bottom.” The sarcasm
is rampant. “He tries to come onto me all toppy and I kinda just have to punch
him sometimes.”
 
“Which I’m certain he enjoys to some extent. Ah, I’d warn you not to bruise up
his beautiful face, but at least he can heal from it instantly.” Shu plucks a
couple of jeweled sticks from his caddy, then starts trussing up Mika’s hair in
long gently-falling curls, giving the illusion of being tousled without leaving
a single fall to chance. “I’m sure I don’t have to lecture you about being
safe. I will in any case. Don’t you dare take foolish chances, don’t go
anywhere alone, don’t make me worry.”
 
“Nnh, I’m not gonna make you worry, Master, I got this.” Mika’s tongue sticks
out as he thinks, wetting his lower lip. “I do know how to do this, and handle
the kinda guys that show up in the Sandlands trying to buy a whore. It’s not
usually the guys that wanna have sex with you that are that bad. But tryin’
t’explain that to Arashi sometimes…”
 
“Oh? Ah, is it those, ah, amputors? That are the real ones to watch out for?”
Shu guesses, settling his hands onto Mika’s head, closing his eyes and invoking
his magic, taking his time and crafting the finest seal he’s ever made.
 
“Not even. It’s the slavers themselves.”
 
Mika isn’t any stranger to having his magic sealed, but it’s still itchy and
uncomfortable to him, no matter how it’s done. Shu does it more comfortably
than anyone else has ever managed, however, and he fights down the urge to
shift and wriggle, grumbling underneath his breath. “Bleck. No ghosties for me,
huh.”
 
“Which is a shame.” Shu plucks fondly at a few errant strands of hair. “I’ve
heard only extensive compliments from the Academy about how well behaved your
ghosties are lately. After all, the best way to master something is to teach
it.”
 
“Maybe it’s ‘cuz I’m not constantly stressed out and livin’ in fear that
someone’s gonna kill my kara.” Mika tilts his head back again to peer up at
Shu. “Did you know, Arashi and Izumi both thought I was like, really young.
Like, still a teenager, heh.”
 
Shu blinks. “Wait. Really? Doesn’t he call you amaka? Isn’t that only used to
address an older lover?”
 
“Yeah, but he don’t listen to what I tell him half the time.”
 
“That’s how you know he’s a soldier. Honestly, you don’t have a resonant bond
with him,” Shu lectures, mentally trimming the edges of Mika’s seal, making it
as absolutely perfect as possible. “You could shop around a bit while you’re
down there, see if there’s anyone more suited to your temperament. I can’t
imagine that he truly comprehends your melancholia.”
 
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m gonna find someone good in the Sandlands,” Mika scoffs,
shaking his head. “I love him. I think we’re suited well enough. Maybe it’s
better that he doesn’t really get me sometimes, my head gets scary. ‘Sides, the
only person that really gets it is you, and you’re taken, sooo…”
 
Shu leans forward, pressing a kiss to the top of Mika’s pinned-up curls. “Not
for lack of, well, finding you compatible. You know that. Such things, like I
have with Rei, are...unavoidable.”
 
“Mm, I know,” Mika cheerfully says. “But that’s why I’m glad I don’t have a
bond, y’know? Like, if for some reason Arashi got weird and terrible—he won’t,
but who knows?—I ain’t stuck. At least Rei’s real handsome, huh?”
 
“What have I done now to be reduced to merely handsome?” Rei bemoans as he
strides back in, withdrawing a bloody handkerchief from the inside of his
cloak. “One finger for you, love. Mika, you’re looking especially beautiful.”
 
Shu huffs, patting Mika’s shoulders and standing, pulling out his small
portable cauldron and setting it up. It only takes a moment for his fires to
heat it to searing, and a flurry of ingredients from his shelf quickly start
hissing and bubbling. “Throw it in, my lord. Mika, are you sure you want the
clone spell? You’ll see better if I merely dye it.”
 
“Gotta be convincin’,” Mika says with a shake of his head, blowing a curl of
his hair out of his face when it tries to flop its way back over. “And I’ll be
even less threatenin’ to everyone if I try to sit around and listen in on
things.”
 
Rei shakes his head, unwrapping the finger and tossing it into the cauldron.
The liquid hisses, popping threatening. “Perhaps don’t tell your lover that
you’ve gone so far,” he carefully advises. “He’s already been expressing his
disapproval.”
 
“Again? Ehh…” Mika sighs, leaning back. “He’ll figure it out even if I say
nothin’, he’s good at that kinda thing.”
 
“You’re giving quite a lot of credit to someone with no clue what age his lover
is,” Shu says dryly, pulling a stirring stick from the wall, wafting the fumes
away with a wrinkle of his nose.
 
“But with body stuff he’s real smart! To be fair, I look a lot younger than I
am,” Mika insistently says.
 
“Your lover is a fantastic soldier,” Rei says sweetly, settling down onto the
floor next to Mika and tilting his chin up, turning his face side to side
before pulling over Shu’s kit of makeup over. “Look up.”
 
Mika obediently does as he’s told, though it’s with a roll of his eyes all the
same as Rei deliberately paints his eyes with kohl. “Y’all are so mean about
him.”
 
Shu ignores that, stirring his potion, scraping the sides as the chemicals
break down the muscles, then the bones into tiny splinters, then liquefies them
into a faint gelatinous substance, melding with the rest of his ingredients.
“Rei, did you have a chance to select Mika any companions? I don’t want him
doing any of this alone. I’ll go with him myself if I must.”
 
“How adorable that you think that’s a possibility,” Rei snorts, continuing his
painting with a steady hand. “I contacted a boy that I brought to High Harbor
from one of my brothels. He should be able to work with Mika directly as his
attendant; his experience is perfect for such a thing.”
 
“Oh, is it the little one from the stables?” Mika absently asks, shutting his
eyes when Rei gives him the go-ahead. “He was real cute.”
 
“Yes, Hajime. He’ll be here within a day or two.” Mika’s lashes are as long and
thick as his hair with a bit of attention paid to him, and Rei pauses, looking
at him before he shakes his head, amused. “The fact that you choose to look
like the little cats that scrounge in the trash most of the time is such a
shame,” he mutters, dipping another brush into a pot of red to tint Mika’s
lips.
 
“Yeah, well, you can find some neat stuff in the trash sometimes.”
 
“Shu, this child is missing the point.”
 
“And the point is a good one, no less.” Shu sniffs at the mixture, then fetches
the ewer, splashing in a few careful drops of water, which immediately coalesce
into white ice, then melt into the powders, making them swell and crackle. “Why
are you doing his makeup if they aren’t leaving for a few days? We’ll just have
to reapply it.”
 
“I wanted to see exactly how pretty he is,” Rei hums, undeterred. “It’s
integral that I can speak exactly of his assets when I contact other owners in
the South. There are a few in the capital that I’ll try touching base with
first.”
 
“Gross.” Mika’s tongue pokes out again, and he regrets it, because makeup
tastes gross. “Are you gonna have to like, actually sell me? I never got traded
to other brothels before.”
 
“Mm, basically. You need to stop putting your tongue out like that, or put some
jewelry in it.”
 
“Ooh, that one.”
 
Rei looks over at Shu, exasperated. “Do you ever remember how perverted he
really is? He puts me to shame, I swear. Why do you like this sort of company
so much?”
 
“It’s the contrast, of course.” Shu leaves his cauldron to bubble for a few
moments, moving to one of his cabinets, pulling out a drawer and sifting
through. “To my absolute purity, obviously. You’re both perfect examples. Here,
I’m thinking rubies, and I’m correct. This should work in any tongue jewelry.
Do you already have a hole, or shall I?”
 
Rei looks over at Shu skeptically. “Purity. You. Shall I remind you of—ah, no,
I suppose I shouldn’t, you’re busy brewing.“
 
Mika perks up. “You can’t stop, I want this story.” He pauses to stick his
tongue out again, and idly run a finger down it before putting it up again. “I
think the hole’s still there on this one, but I know the ones in my nipples are
all gone. Stupid Academy.”
 
“Are you certain you want to be quite so alluring?” Shu asks, raising an
eyebrow as he advances with the jewelry. “What if someone finds himself simply
unable to resist you? You know that Rei will have to sell you for real,
essentially. If your brothel manager knows you aren’t to be a real prostitute,
your cover will be in danger.”
 
“Slavers aren’t gonna come around unless there’s someone worth it,” Mika points
out. “So if I don’t look like someone they wanna snatch up and actually
sell…it’s kinda defeatin’ the purpose, ain’t it?”
 
“Eavesdropping on their activities is one thing,” Rei softly says, sitting
back. “But actually being kidnapped and sold by them is another, especially if
you’re sealed and defenseless.”
 
“Yeah, but…I dunno. I think the quickest, best way to get this all resolved is
for the biggest names to actually come out and come for someone like me. And,”
Mika idly says, “if you put a lot of magic trackin’ into all this jewelry, if I
do get snatched up, it ain’t like they’re gonna rip it out of me, that’s
damagin’ the goods—so you’ll be able to find me, and follow me. And hopefully,
all those kids and the whole operation with ‘em.” His expression shifts to
something vaguely impassive. “I ain’t stupid, I know bad things could happen to
me—probably will happen to me, but if that’s what I gotta do to hopefully put a
stop to this kinda thing for good, then fine.”
 
“Jewelry is a bad idea,” Shu murmurs to himself, clicking his tongue as he
thinks. “They wouldn’t rip it off of you, but everything I’ve ever heard of
those people makes me think they would absolutely remove your jewelry to sell
it. I certainly wouldn’t trust them to leave you your possessions. Perhaps if
you had a plain stud in your tongue?”
 
“Nhh, maybe? But I want it to be pretty,” Mika complains, pouting up at him.
“And fancy. Master, you’ve gotta make me fancy.”
 
“You’re already fancy,” Rei reassures him, patting his cheek. “Even just right
now, you look like someone that would sell for quite a bit of money.”
 
“Y’know, when you say it like that, it makes me kinda wanna scream?”
 
“I’ll give you mostly gold and precious gems,” Shu decides, “and spell one of
them to look like tin and glass. Precious stones and metal hold spellwork for
far longer, anyway. Rei, don’t be creepy, he’s going to be dealing with enough
of that soon.” His fingers twitch as he adjusts a hair stick, making it shine
more brilliantly,  drawing attention on purpose. “Ahh, perhaps I really should
go with you...just as a visiting merchant, I can at least keep an eye on you?”
 
“You are not going,” Rei firmly says. “Not unless I’m with you, and one of us
has to stay behind for the Academy.”
 
“I’ll be fine, Master,” Mika huffs, tilting his head back to peer at him. “I
mean, I ain’t gonna hate it if you visit, a chance to climb all over you sounds
fun…”
 
Not for the first time, Shu mentally laments the fact that his bond with Rei
makes him essentially unable to enjoy climbing over anyone else. It isn’t much
of a trade-off, but sometimes Mika makes such charming comments... “I’ll see
what I can do. And if I can slip my jailer, here. Rei, if you tell me it isn’t
safe, that you can’t keep my Mika safe, I won’t allow him to go.”
 
“I can keep him safe. He’s my top priority, obviously,” Rei snorts, leaning
back where he sits. “And I’ll also educate Lord Arashi on exactly how to
conduct himself to make sure no one else lays a hand upon his little favorite
here. Between myself, his lover, and a proper attendant, he’ll be just fine.”
 
“Even without magic,” Mika absently notes, reaching out to prod at Rei’s chest,
where his hourglass normally would be, too strange for him to look at straight
on at any given point. “It’s better that I ain’t leaving today…I have to get
used to this. And probably being mostly blind.”
 
“I just cannot understand why you’d want to be blind,” Shu says with a sigh,
and fetches a ceramic cup, scooping his simmering mixture into its depth before
handing it over. “Look up.”
 
“I told you, it’s a gimmick. Also, I ain’t gotta look at anyone ugly while I’m
down there,” Mika hums, obediently looking upward.
 
“Clever. Little minx.” Shu winces at the necessity, but takes a color sample
from Mika’s blue eye, which hopefully doesn’t feel any worse than a pinch, then
stirs the color itself into the mixture. “Drink. It won’t feel good.”
 
Mika blinks a few times to keep his eyes from watering, and takes the cup with
a sigh. “Here’s to looking normal for a few weeks!” he cheerfully says, and
downs it all in one gulp.
 
More than the shockingly bitter taste, it burns, almost instantly, and Mika
hisses through his teeth, shutting his eyes with a sharp inhale. “Ow, ow, ow.
Ahh, it’s all stingy, I don’t like it, ow.”
 
“It certainly will make you harder to recognize,” Rei apologetically says,
leaning forward to dab at the corner of Mika’s eye with the end of his sleeve
as a hot tear streaks down his face. “Easy there, love, it shouldn’t hurt for
long.”
 
“Nnhhh, I wanna rub it but I know that’ll make it hurt more,” Mika bemoans,
flapping a hand in irritation as he forces himself to blink a few times, trying
to make the stinging fade, and the world shifts from watery and bright to
foggy, distorted, and oddly dark at the edges. “Yep, that’s about what I
expected,” he mutters, blinking a few more times. 
 
“For what it’s worth…you’re very alluring with big, crystal blue eyes,” Rei
says. “Look at this creature, Shu, he’s so lovely.”
 
Shu purses his lips. The reality starts to truly sink down on him, and he turns
away, heart in knots, stomach twisting. It’s too easy to imagine Mika, his
precious apprentice, the one closer to his heart even than Rei, alone and
surrounded by predators in his homeland. Shu has heard story after story of how
awful Mika’s childhood had been, and had only avoided nightmares by reminding
himself over and over that all of that is behind, it’s all in the past. Mika
might be putting on a brave front, but Shu can see the way his hands are
twisting in his lap, the way his shoulders are tensed, the way he retreats into
crude humor when he’s terrified. “No,” he says abruptly, standing and turning
away. “I’ve changed my mind, I refuse to allow this. You won’t go. If the king
wants these people saved, he should have spies and agents for such a thing.”
 
“There ain’t no one else, Master,” Mika protests, hauling himself to his feet
with a little sway. Ah, this is strange, not the sort of poor sight he normally
has when he pulls his hair over his good eye, but something so much worse.
That’s unnerving, but he bites his lip, forcing himself to ignore it. This part
was completely his idea, and it’s a good one. “Anyone else he got, he couldn’t
trust. If…if I go, maybe somethin’ll get done this time, y’know?”
 
“Of course there’s someone else,” Shu snaps. “Rei’s sending someone with you,
isn’t he? He can go by himself. You don’t need to be in this sort of danger. I
won’t let you.”
 
“Hajime,” Rei patiently interjects, “won’t be able to do the work Mika can. His
involvement within brothels was much more…minimal, because he was in one of
mine.”
 
“Which are basically just nice warm houses for kids to work in, yeah? So he
don’t know nothin’ like I do,” Mika says, grabbing at Shu’s sleeve and staring
up at him imploringly to see as much of him as he can. “You gotta let me,” he
quietly says. “Shu—if I don’t, no one’s ever gonna do nothin’ to fix it. The
king can’t.”
 
“But what if something happens to you?” Shu whispers, letting his hands come to
rest on Mika’s cheeks. Mika hadn’t seen him as broken, foolish, past his prime
when Eichi had humiliated him. The idea of sending him back into the nightmare
of his childhood is unconscionable. “I’ll die without you.”
 
“Nothin’s gonna happen,” Mika firmly says, lifting his hands to rest them over
Shu’s. He wishes he felt as confident as he tries to sound. More accurately,
more realistically, he should have said nothing’s going to happen that hasn’t
before.“I’m good at this kinda thing, remember? You ain’t gonna die. Those kids
might, though, if I don’t help.”
 
Shu wavers, looking into those oddly matched eyes--he hates it that they match-
-and then over to Rei. “If anything happens,” he says quietly, “this is partly
your fault. Is this Hajime child trained in combat, at least?”
 
Rei hesitates at that. “Well—he’s certainly stronger than he looks. Shu, do you
really think I would send someone useless?” 
 
“Even if y’did, I don’t even need ‘im, honestly,” Mika insists, squeezing Shu’s
hands. “He’s jus’ gonna be there to make sure I don’t trip over myself all the
time. I can do this, I mean it.”
 
“Explain it to me, then,” Shu implores, blinking rapidly, squeezing Mika’s
hands just as tightly. “Explain why only you can do this, what you’re going to
do, and how fast you’ll come home.”
 
“I…I don’t know what I’m gonna do, exactly,” Mika admits, reversing his grip to
pull Shu’s hands from his face and pull them to his chest instead, clutching
them there tightly. “Whatever I gotta do, I guess. It’s not like the king gave
me a ton of info, he just…I could tell he needed someone to go down there, and
I’m the only one that can fit in, and talk to these people, and figure out
things, so I…” His lower lip wobbles, and he blinks hard, glancing down.
“You’re makin’ it sound scary again, stop it.”
 
“I’m making it scary?” Shu demands, voice rising on the edge of hysteria.
“After you spring this not-plan on me? Rei, talk me out of forbidding this, I’m
on the verge.”
 
“Enough, enough, both of you.” Rei sweeps to his feet again, prying them apart
and placing a firm hand on Shu’s shoulder. This lasts for all but a second when
Mika lurches forward again, latching firmly onto Shu’s waist, face buried into
his chest, and Rei heaves a sigh. “I’ll personally check on him while he’s down
there, to make sure everything is going well. If at any point this mission
causes him more harm than it does good, I’ll remove him, and that’ll be the end
of it. Then our king can find his own spies—which he should have either way, I
agree, but time is of the essence in this and Mika’s right to be concerned.”
 
“I jus’ wanna prove it can be fixed,” comes Mika’s muffled response from Shu’s
chest, his voice wet and miserable. “It ain’t fair that it’s still the way it
is, I gotta do something t’help, no one else is gonna.”
 
Shu bites his lip, but nods, resting his chin on Mika’s head. “I’ll send you
with every protection,” he says fiercely. “Nothing will ever hurt you if I have
something to say about it. I promise you this.”
 
Mika nods, rubbing his face into Shu’s chest before he looks up, makeup
streaking down his face. “…I don’t wanna go,” he finally admits, sniffling. “I
wanna go back North, even if it’s cold.”
 
Rei exhales a slow breath, and releases Shu’s shoulder with a squeeze. “I’m
going to go talk to the king,” he says, and he briskly steps away, the door
shutting hard behind him.
 
Shu presses a hard kiss to Mika’s forehead, then settles in front of the fire,
pulling Mika onto his lap. “I’ll keep you safe. I’m a Nightcloak, aren’t I? If
I’m not able to keep even one precious person safe, then what use is all that
power? I will absolutely manage to keep you safe, so you can go back North as
quickly as possible.”
 
Mika curls up into Shu’s lap, nestling his way into his chest and rubbing his
face back into his shoulder. “But I’ll be all the way South,” he unhappily
says. “And Rei ain’t gonna let you go. And he’s right not to.” He shivers,
huddling up closer. “I shouldn’t’ve agreed, but Leo made me so mad, that way he
does, and now I…I’ve made such a big deal about it bein’ fine, so I…” Mika
shrugs, clutching at one of Shu’s sleeves. “He really doesn’t have anyone
else.”
 
“You won’t be alone, though,” Shu murmurs, pressing another kiss to Mika’s
temple, holding him closer. “You’ll have Rei’s connections, and his boy as an
ally. You...it won’t be the same. You won’t be alone, and you’ll have weapons.
And I’ll show you how to destroy the seal for any emergencies, so you can
defend yourself. Don’t forget, you’re a powerful, and very adorable and
terrifying wizard, not a helpless child.”
 
“I k-know. But I still don’t wanna. I’m gonna, but I don’t wanna.” Mika
sniffles, lifting his other hand to wipe at his eyes. “Even if Arashi is my
patron, I’m still gonna have to touch gross men that I don’t wanna touch,” he
miserably says. “I’m kinda scared to tell him about that. Nnh, maybe you should
be the one that fakes being my patron instead…”
 
Shu blinks. “You think I could pull that off? I thought I’d perhaps go as a
rival proprietor who wanted to employ you. Do I look like the sort of man who
would be a patron?”
 
“I mean…you look like the kinda guy that likes pretty boys, so close enough?”
 
Shu sniffs. “Very well, then. Perhaps under those circumstances Rei will let me
go. Honestly, I believe in you vastly more than I believe that big slab of meat
will be able to hold character if anyone moves against you. Do you think he’ll
be able to stand there calmly if you have a black eye?”
 
“…No,” Mika admits, glancing down at the corner of his sleeve, down streaked
black from kohl. “He’ll freak out. He’ll be so mad at me if I don’t let him go,
though…I thought…maybe him freaking out would be good and convincing or
somethin’, but…I’ve been thinkin’, nobles don’t really give that much of a shit
about whores.” He deflates, his shoulders sagging. “And it’ll just make it
harder, if I gotta touch other people, if I think he’ll be comin’ around…”
 
“I’ll talk to Rei,” Shu promises. “Perhaps I’ll ask him to give Arashi the
wrong information about where you’ve been sold. Hmm, but if he goes looking for
you, that could be troubling for his reputation, currently damaged as it
is....”
 
Mika shakes his head. “Instead of wrong information, maybe if I just leave for
the South when he’s asleep or somethin’…maybe Izumin would make him stay put,”
he wearily says. “I don’t want him to get in more trouble ‘cause of me.”
 
“...As much as I like the idea of you having a soldier next to you in theory,”
Shu says softly, “that’s...probably the best plan. Having him around would only
distract you. Be honest. You’d be worried about him seeing you like that, and
what he’d think of you after.”
 
“Y’mean the reason I never even comb my damned hair around him?” Mika manages
with a wet laugh, his lower lip trembling again. “I d-don’t want him to think
I’m gross or…or that I enjoy it, I…I’m jus’ good at makin’ the best of things
and…”
 
“Mika.”
 
Shu takes Mika’s face in his hands, looking at him very seriously. “You don’t
have to put on a theater of suffering about your past,” he says quietly. “I
know. It was a bad situation. And I know that in any bad situation, there are
the worst days of all, and there are some days with light, and you feel as
though you can’t speak of the little joys, or someone will think you’d rather
be back there. If you hadn’t bloomed, you’d still be there--and I like to
believe that you could have managed to be happy, at least three days out of
ten. You’re resourceful, and clever, and excellent at managing the expectations
of you that other people have. And if you ever repeat any of this, I’ll deny
it.”
 
Mika trembles for a moment longer before he launches into Shu’s chest, clinging
to his neck with a shaky sob. “You gotta come with me, you gotta,” he whispers,
his fingers curling tightly into the back of Shu’s shirt. “Y-you get it, I love
him so much but you get it, I don’t even gotta explain it, you…” His breath
hiccups. “You already know how fucked up this all is, how fucked up I am.
I…just because I’ve told him things…it doesn’t mean he gets it.”
 
“Shh, you’re being foolish,” Shu whispers, tone devoid of chastisement as he
holds Mika close. “I’ll--I’ll figure something out. Not that I think I’ll find
it much more tolerable than your brute of a lover, if I were to see someone
beautiful being tormented, but...” He shrugs. “I am a better actor.”
 
“You’re the best actor,” Mika huffs, his face stuffed into Shu’s neck. “I’ll
cry until Rei lets you come with me. He’s bad with cryin’.”
 
Shu snorts. “If you think he could honestly say no to me on a position I feel
firmly about, you haven’t truly seen how he crumbles in the face of my logic.
Yes, I’ve decided now, I’m going South with you. We can work on exactly how and
who our cover stories are on the way. You’ll need me anyway; if you must break
your seal, you’ll need someone to reapply it.”
 
Mika nods, sniffling as he sits back a bit, and scrubs numbly at his watering
eyes. It’s still unnerving for his sight to be so obscured, but he shuts his
eyes, takes a deep breath, and focuses on ignoring it. It’s not like it’s
permanent. “Are you gonna be okay with…y’know…touching me if you gotta?” he
quietly asks. “You get flinchy even if I kiss you.”
 
“I get flinchy,” Shu says, very quietly as he reaches up, stroking Mika’s hair,
“because my soul and my body are in conflict. Because I love you dearly, and
never wish to obscure the way I feel about you, or about the limits of my soul-
bond. If it were just for acting--yes, I very certainly could.”
 
“…Okay. So long as it doesn’t…like…hurt you or somethin’.” Mika flops his head
against Shu’s hand. “Be my patron that makes me pretty things to wear.”
 
“What if I went as a high-class procurer?” Shu asks, pondering the idea. “A
patron, to be sure, but the sort that come looking for the most beautiful ones
to sell to nobility. It would explain not only an interest in you, but also a
proprietary stake. It would give me a reason to be urgent and firm about your
welfare, don’t you think?”
 
“Yeah…and you look and talk like a noble, so everyone would believe that. Nnh,
and it’d give you a reason to perform maintenance and stuff~” Talking this
through with Shu is so much more calming, and doable, and Mika starts to feel
like he can catch his breath again. “Am I pretty enough for that kinda thing,
though? Like, I know I’m too pretty to be in small town brothels now, but to
attract that kinda eye, I dunno…”
 
“You have talents,” Shu reminds him. “Courtesan-level at singing, I’d say,
though your dancing needs some work. I can improve that on our way South. If
you can sing and dance, as well as possess the courtly manners you’ve been
learning, yes. I think you’d fetch a very high price, even from...hmm. Not the
high nobility, of course, but wealthy, titled men who need not conform to the
expectations of their family in everything? Yes, I think so.”
 
“If anyone can make me bring a lot of money, it’s Master,” Mika sighs, and he
toys with the ends of his sleeves, fidgeting. “I hope this all works to fix it.
I know the king means well, but he’s…nnhh…I don’t think he knows how much of a
problem it really is. And the other people that could tell him, they’re scared
to talk to him after all the stuff his father did.”
 
“It isn’t just that,” Shu says quietly. “There are other things...that you
don’t need to be worrying about, but...suffice to say the king is dealing with
quite a lot right now. Cleaning up after his unlamented father is proving to be
a task for the ages. He’s doing remarkably well, for everything that’s going
on.”
 
“I know, I know. I just wanna go back up North with my babies—er, Izumin’s
babies and curl up on a warmin’ stone and never leave,” Mika bemoans. “I don’t
care about politics, I just want good things to happen.”
 
Shu gently pushes Mika off of his lap, lips pursing. “That’s quite enough
negativity from you, child. No more whining, you’ll get wrinkles.”
 
“I ain’t ever gonna get wrinkles,” Mika huffs, flopping back down to the floor
in a puddle of his cloak. “I’m magic. Nnnn, I dunno who told you I’ve got
proper courtly manners now, they were lyin’.”
 
“Good. They shouldn’t be too perfect, that would be suspicious. You can’t make
it obvious that you’ve been spending most of your time with the King, two
Nightcloaks, and a Lord.” Shu reaches down, plucking at one of Mika’s sleeves,
smoothing his stitching. He’d made the garment himself, of course, as he had
all of Mika’s clothing. “And you’ll have to pretend to be ignorant of
everything magical.”
 
“That part’s easy, if I can barely see shit,” Mika bluntly says. “But, y’know,
this does make my hearin’ better. I think you’d go insane. Also, you smell even
better than usual, that’s gotta be part of being mostly blind. Freaks me out a
little not to see hourglasses, but I’ll get used to it.”
 
The door clicks open again, and Rei steps inside, looking as annoyed and
ruffled as he always does after a conversation with Leo. “I’m glad you look
more settled now, because the entirety of this affair seems unavoidable after
all,” he wearily says.
 
“Yeah. Shu’s comin’ with me.”
 
Rei shuts his eyes. “You know, half an hour ago, you were agreeing with me,
Mika, on that subject.”
 
“Yes, but then we thought, really thought, about how dear Captain Arashi would
react to seeing him in typical situations,” Shu says wryly. “And I remembered
what an incredible actor I am. I’m good at everything, Rei.”'
 
“Yes, of course you are, but that doesn’t change the fact that brothels are no
place for you—eitherof you, but—“
 
“We got a plan,” Mika insists, turning wide eyes up at Rei. “Arashi’ll get all
crazy if he sees anyone hurt me, and it’s bound to happen, but Master’s smart
and he can handle it without punching anyone.”
 
Rei stares at them both, then drops down into a chair across from Shu.
“Explain, thoroughly, or I will make sure this doesn’t happen. For either of
you, honestly.”
 
Shu sighs, and leans forward, plucking a candy off the table’s bowl and tossing
it to Mika. “I’ll play a high-class procurer,” he explains. “Mika will be
transferred, and I’ll set eyes upon him, courting him to join my boutique,
high-class brothel of just a few courtesans, up nearer the Capital. We must
keep our operation small, of course, so as not to attract attention, which is
why my goods are picked so stringently. Mika has caught my eye, so it’s not
unusual that I’ll pay for his services on a contracted basis before purchase.
The proprietor will want to feel me out and see how much I’ll pay--this may
take weeks, and I’ll obviously need a reason to stay around. A Lord come to
visit his favorite, by contrast, would be expected to come and go, only
spending time on occasional weekends. By claiming it is my profession, I’m
allowed to remain close at all times. I’ll likely interview boys in other
brothels as well, perhaps also women, for suitability, ensuring that I’m able
to move with ease between groups.”
 
He smiles, and folds his hands. “You may praise my planning now.”
 
“Master’s the best,” Mika automatically says, popping the candy into his mouth.
 
Rei briefly shuts his eyes, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately,
I have no complaints about this plan,” he admits, glancing back up to catch
Shu’s gaze. “Except that it puts you directly in the crossfire if you are
discovered to not be who you say you are. That’s what I’m trying to avoid. I
know exactly how capable you both are, but that doesn’t mean slip-ups can’t
happen, and…well, Shu, you do know you’re famous, right? You’ll need to keep up
a thorough disguise at all times.”
 
Shu’s mouth twists bitterly. “Hair dye,” he spits out, as if the words taste
like unripe lemons. “Fine. That, combined with an accent, plus the sealing of
my power, should be enough, don’t you think? I think so.”
 
“I refuse to see your magic completely sealed down there—one of you has to be
capable of using it, if the situation demands it. That means keeping a very
firm grip on your emotions, no matter the occasion, and no matter how much I
enjoy your little purple flames, they won’t do in a brothel.” Rei sighs,
reaching over to gently tug on a strand of Shu’s hair. “Maybe a very temporary
hair dye, also.”
 
Shu thinks, tapping a finger against his chin, blinking slowly. “Could I go as
a wizard? A shiftless Dawncloak, perhaps, dealing on the side in the confusion
of the Academy changing hands?”
 
“Ooh, that makes you sound delightfully grungy and terrible,” Rei says with an
amused snort. “And it makes my administration sound so questionable, which I
find sort of entertaining. Mm, I think that might work. You’re so smart, love.”
 
Shu preens. “Yes, you may praise me a bit more, if you like. It will also
explain why any nobles wouldn’t know my titles to hear of them. It certainly
does solve everything--I truly am a genius, it seems.” He hesitates, face
falling into a scowl. “That means that as your right hand, you’ll only have
that cut-rate garbage Keito.”
 
Rei beams, flapping a hand. “It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine! He’s very good at
his job, you know, even if the two of you just cannot stand one another. He’s
just so efficient, and—“
 
“You know you’re makin’ Master mad. I’m blind and even I can see how you’re
wincin’ ‘cause of your bond,” Mika deadpans.
 
“Yes, well, obviously Shu is the best right hand I could have, but Keito works
well in a pinch, and I can appreciate both of their talents for what they are.
Don’t glare at me like that, love, it hurts.”
 
Shu stands, smoothing his hair down, shooting another glare at Rei as he starts
rummaging through his belongings. “Compare me to that...you’ll be starved and
burning for me after a few weeks,” he mutters, conveniently ignoring the fact
that he, also, will be longing for Rei desperately during their separation.
 
“I’ll be starving myself every day that you’re gone, yes.” Rei rises, reaching
for Shu’s hands and drawing one to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “It’s been
some time since we’ve been apart,” he softly says. “I’d rather not let you out
of my sight, but if you are posing as a low-level wizard, at least I have the
power of oversight if something happens. I hate this situation, but I don’t
hate your plan.”
 
The idea of being apart from Rei starts to sink in, and Shu turns, blinking
stinging eyes. “Mika...we’ll finish later. Go surprise your lover or something,
I’m having a melancholia.”
 
Mika nods, hopping up to his feet. “I ain’t gonna let us stay down there for
long,” he insistently says. “We’ll get to the bottom of it and leave.
Otherwise, I’m gonna go crazy, too.”
 
“That’s the spirit,” Rei exhales, and then reaches for Shu again, pulling him
towards him. “We’ll still be able to feel each other through our bond. I won’t
let that part be sealed down.”
 
Shu snorts. “As if you have the talent and pinpoint accuracy necessary to do
something so delicate. I’ll be sealing myself, thank you, and I’ve never had an
issue feeling you through my seal. Just...” He lays a hand on Rei’s chest.
“We’ll do it as quickly as possible, and I’ll come home to you. Soon.”
 
“If anything happens to either of you,” Rei begins, very seriously, “I will
probably give into the urge to simply level the Sandlands to dust, like it most
likely deserves.”
 
“Yes, yes, you’re a very frightening wizard,” Shu assures him, patting Rei’s
head.
 
“You’re so mean to me. Let me kiss you, then I’ll be even scarier.”
 
“Ah, I was petrified, but now I’m just mortified.”
 
“No, you aren’t. You think I’m charming.” Rei bats his eyelashes, draping
himself forward against Shu. “Come, my love, I’ll feast on you before you run
off on this horrendous adventure.”
 
Shu sighs, though his cheeks color, and he looks up at Mika. “Save yourself,
it’s too late for your master.”
 
Mika hesitates near the door. “I mean—I could, buuut…”
 
“Wouldn’t it be nice if I could enjoy both of you?” Rei bemoans, sliding his
fingers back through Shu’s hair to pull him in for a soft kiss. “Maybe we
should try it again, as practice, considering you’ll have him all over you…”
 
Shu sucks in a breath, his skin suddenly prickling with fire, sending a shiver
through him. His eyes dart between his lover and his apprentice, pupils slowly
dilating at the thought. “I...I suppose I do hate doing anything without
practice...”
 
“Maybe if you go ahead and seal yourself…” Rei wheedles, tilting his head to
press a kiss to Shu’s jaw, then his neck, tugging down his collar a bit to let
his tongue drag against the thud of Shu’s pulse. “Mmn…you won’t be as bothered
by it. And if you aren’t, I won’t be as much, either.”
 
Mika slowly pads his way back over, grabbing for Shu’s hand and nuzzling into
his side, peering up at him with—for once—enormous matching eyes. “Mm, mm, then
it won’t be so scary if we gotta do it down in the south,” he breathes.
 
“There won’t...be too many people around...will there?” Shu asks, feeling his
knees weaken, wobbling back and forth. He lets his head droop to the side,
feeling Rei’s mouth brushing over him so sweetly. “Mika...would it be...ahh,
shouldn’t I be, I mean...will it be thought of as something strange if what I
come to you for is...ah...”
 
“It wouldn’t be unusual for you to have to…mm, ‘test the goods’, so to speak,”
Rei hums, slinging an arm around Shu’s waist to steady him as he lightly nips
at the base of Shu’s neck. “So I suppose Mika’s right—practice makes perfect.”
 
“It would be fuuun,” Mika gleefully says, grabbing at the laces of Shu’s
trousers as he presses closer, stretching up on tiptoe to nuzzle his own face
into the other side of Shu’s neck, breathing in deep. “Maaaster~…I wanna make
you feel good…”
 
Shu breathes in hard, eyes dilating as he slumps back against Rei, feeling the
warmth of him as a steady, stabilizing presence. His hands come up to Mika’s
hair, surprised by its unfamiliar texture even when he’s the one who styled it.
“Th-this isn’t much of a rehearsal,” he stammers. “I should--I should try
leaving the room and coming in again, looking....looking for a, ah,
companion...”
 
“You don’t need to go anywhere, love,” Rei murmurs, his teeth catching the lobe
of Shu’s ear, tugging on it gently as he squeezes Shu around the waist to keep
him on his feet. It’s distracting for Mika to be touching his lover—it always
is, which is why they never get past this point—but hunger, at least, is
overriding some of that right now, and the fact that they have to try… “He’s
lovely, isn’t he?”
 
“Master’s not allowed to leave,” Mika agrees on a sigh, his eyes fluttering as
Shu’s fingers thread through his hair. He butts his head against the touch,
turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of Shu’s wrist, and his fingers
make swift work of the laces of Shu’s trousers. “You look like y’need some
takin’ care of…if you leave, I can’t.”
 
Some odd pangs tug at Shu. They always do, when someone who isn’t Rei touches
him, and he shudders, reminding himself to feel it as a good thing, to feel it
as pleasurable rather than simply wrong. He breathes into it, closing his eyes,
trying to feel Mika’s touch as purely pleasurable rather than confusing and
distracting. Rei’s touch helps, and he leans into that, mouth parted, face
tilted back, letting a soft moan escape from his mouth. “You...ahhh, be gentle,
I’m--Rei, I’m--” Already overstimulated, please feel it, I don’t have the
words--
 
“Shh, love, shh…” You’re fine, you’re fine, I’m here. Shu’s mouth is too
enticing to ignore, and Rei bends to claim it, seizing those lips as he grasps
Shu’s chin between his fingers. He’s gentle, but that doesn’t stop him from
being thorough, his tongue immediately shoving between those parted lips to
taste, sucking on Shu’s own when Rei coaxes it to move.
 
Mika hums underneath his breath, pleased that he’s even gotten this far without
being pushed away again, and he drops swiftly to his knees, painted nails
grazing over the jut of Shu’s hipbones before hooking into his trousers. He
leans forward, nuzzling at the inside of one of Shu’s thighs, and tilts his
head up to lightly nip at the skin just above that when he tugs clothing down,
quickly exposing more soft, pale skin. “You’re all trembly already,” he
breathes, his eyes fluttering as he lets Shu’s pants drop to the floor, and
noses at his thigh again, his hair tickling over the bare skin. “You’re so
beautiful, Master…”
 
A part of Shu still feels, and may always feel, as if he’s far too exposed
without the specially constructed underwear he’d worn for a decade, without
fail. It’s just so easy for someone to get at his most private areas, something
that makes his cheeks flush hot as he meets Rei’s lips. One of his hands fists
in Rei’s shirt for stability, the other dropping down to touch Mika’s hair,
fingers gently tracing the jeweled sticks holding up the curling mass. His cock
twitches, hardening at just a puff of Mika’s breath, and his knees abruptly
buckle, making him sit down hard on the edge of their enormous bed. Mika
touching him doesn’t feel bad--it’s like hunger, which feels good sometimes
even as he knows it’s not the natural state of things. He enjoys that
sometimes, and lets himself lean into this as well, breathing, “If you want to
be...worth what I paid for you...you’ll do a good job, won’t you?”
 
Mika’s breath hitches, his tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip as he
scoots closer on his knees, his fingers splaying over the insides of Shu’s
thighs. “I’ll be worth every penny,” he murmurs, his breath hot against Shu’s
cock before he curls a hand around the base of it. “I swear.”
 
Rei’s hand abruptly slides down, grabbing a handful of Mika’s hair to jerk his
head back, making his head fall back with a ragged gasp. “Thank him for the
pleasure,” he lowly says, pulling on one of Mika’s curls. “Prettily.”
 
Mika swallows, his chest heaving a little as he looks up at Shu, his fingers
trembling slightly. He can’t decide if it’s good or bad that his cock is
suddenly so much harder—good, it’s good, there’s no point in being ashamed
about that!—and he squirms where he sits, cheeks flushing hot. “T…thank you,
Milord,” he whispers, lowering his eyes. “For allowing me a taste of you.”
 
Shu’s eyes flicker with concern, and he looks between Rei and Mika for a long
moment before noting the flushed cheeks, the blown pupils. “You like this,” he
whispers, stroking Mika’s cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “You love this,
don’t you? I can see it in your eyes, you love to serve your betters, child.”
 
Mika bites his lip before they part again, and he grabs helplessly for Shu’s
wrist, lurching up against the hold in his hair to kiss his palm, then the tip
of his thumb before he sucks it into his mouth. “Can’t help it,” he
breathlessly admits. “I just…I wanna make you feel good, I…”
 
“Give him a taste then, love,” Rei murmurs against Shu’s ear, his teeth
catching against the rim of it as he releases Mika’s hair, and instead, lets
his fingers skim down Shu’s stomach, dragging down to his cock. “Keep his
pretty mouth open, I’ll help you feed it to him.”
 
It still, on some level, feels perverted and filthy to even have anyone touch
his cock even now. Shu sucks in a breath through his teeth, thighs parting. He
reaches down and whispers, “Just like this, yes? Just like this. Take care of
me like I want you to.”
 
Then he grabs Mika’s chin in his hands, reminding himself that he doesn’t have
to be clinical and detached on purpose (like he had been so many times before
meeting Rei, longing to touch this lovely young thing but knowing how wrong it
is), but can grab him with passion, pulling his mouth open, thumb on his bottom
lip.
 
A whimper escapes from the back of Mika’s throat when he’s pulled forward and
Shu’s cock is guided into his mouth, dragging hard and sticky against his lower
lip before he eagerly parts his lips further to aid in swallowing it down. The
taste makes him inhale sharply, his eyes fluttering closed with a groan as his
tongue drags over the head of Shu’s cock, then along the underside of it, a
noisy, hungry sound leaving his throat.
 
“Look how much he likes the taste of you.” Rei’s voice is low as his grip
slides away from Shu’s cock to grip his thigh possessively instead. “Can you
blame him? You’re delicious,” he breathes, nipping at Shu’s neck again, the
tiny drop of blood that he draws quickly lapped up with a flick of his tongue.
“He’s just so pleased to have you in his mouth.”
 
“Be good,” Shu groans, clutching at Rei, eyes fluttering shut until he squeezes
them closed, toes flexing, sucking in breath. “If you--if you start drinking,
I’ll--I can’t pay attention you know it--”
 
Mika’s mouth is sweet and hot, unlike Rei’s in ways Shu couldn’t begin to
describe. He’s seductive, sinful, and Shu rocks up into his mouth, biting his
own lip. “Mika...ah, no, boy--do your best, serve me the way that would make
your master proud.”
 
Mika wriggles closer, eagerly licking, sucking slowly—until Rei’s hand drags
down to his hair again, and promptly shoves him forward, forcing him to swallow
every bit of Shu’s cock in one long bob of his head. He doesn’t choke, but he
does suck in a sharp breath though his nose, his eyes watering and his cheeks
flushing to a ruddy, blotchy red as he nuzzles into Shu’s belly, a long, hard
swallow making his throat tighten around the cock making his jaw ache.
 
“Good boy,” Rei breathes, petting Mika’s hair as he sucks on Shu’s neck,
leaving a dark, prominent bruise instead of drinking—for now, at least. “Make
sure to use that pretty mouth well, love. You paid good money for him,
remember?”
 
A low, muffled whimper escapes around Shu’s cock, and Mika’s fingers curl
against Shu’s thighs as he tries not to squirm, tries desperately not to reach
down and touch himself when what leaves Rei’s mouth goes straight to his own
cock.
 
“I think he’d have done it for free,” Shu breathes, eyes alight as he looks
down at Mika. The odd twanging in his mind becomes a thumping, still more
strange than terrible, like an odd non-foodlike smell in food, just enough to
usually turn him away. This time, though, with Rei holding him, it just drives
him to higher passion, as if the thrill of doing something forbidden is
enflaming his desires. He ruts up, feeling the head of his cock bump against
the back of Mika’s mouth, dripping over his tongue. “He seems like...that kind
of person...doesn’t he, my lord? Will you...be sharing him with me this
evening?”
 
The noise that leaves Mika’s throat is easily interpreted as an eager little
plead. Rei’s own breath hitches, the natural need to grab someone that pretty
and give them exactly what they want warring obnoxiously with his bond to Shu.
He growls underneath his breath, forcing himself up, his blood thudding in his
ears as he bends to give Mika’s ass a slap. “Up. No, don’t stop what you’re
doing, just get off your knees and bend over.”
 
Mika wobbles, pulling off of Shu’s cock just long enough to do as he’s told. He
climbs to his feet, trembling as he plants his hands on the side of the bed,
his face hot and hair falling over his shoulders as he bends forward over Shu’s
cock, his tongue dragging long and wet over the head before he sucks it back
down, eager, sloppy noises leaving his throat when Shu’s hips rut upwards.
 
“That’s a good boy,” Rei sighs, hiking up Mika’s robe—and immediately exhales
an amused breath. “Nothing underneath? You’re making this too easy.” He plucks
at the laces on his trousers, tugging them down enough to free his own cock,
already achingly hard, precome beading at the tip. He drags his thumb over the
head until it comes away slick, and that’s just long enough for him to find the
oil tucked into his pocket. “You’ll be just as good for me as you are for Shu,
won’t you?” he murmurs, petting a hand down Mika’s lower back as he pours the
oil over his cock, and guides it to that tight, twitching hole.
 
Rei shoves in with one long, unrelenting thrust, and Mika arches up onto his
toes, gripping at the side of the bed, a wet, muffled squeal caught up in his
throat. He chokes for the first time, swallowing hard around Shu’s cock to keep
from gagging, and he breathes hard through his nose, his back arched and legs
trembling as Rei bends forward over him to grab Shu’s chin and drag him into a
long, filthy kiss.
 
The bond retreats, thudding gently, buzzing in the back of Shu’s mind as he
groans hard, thrusting into Mika’s mouth, eyes going white with pleasure as he
comes hard. Violet fire explodes around him, tamped at the last second before
it reaches anything, and Shu gasps, flopping back onto the bed as he squirms,
feeling utterly drained between Mika’s beautiful lips.
 
He reaches out, grabbing Rei’s hands, dragging one of them to his mouth and
pressing his lips to that pale skin, watching his lover and his student
rutting, fire burning behind his eyes as he tries to contain it. “Make this
worth it,” he hisses to Rei, his body burning with passion.
 
Mika swallows noisily, trying not to spill a drop, but it’s impossible when Shu
comes so hard, and Rei shoves and pulls on him, leaving him to pull off of
Shu’s cock with a ragged, panting gasp, a trickle of come escaping down his
chin. His head thunks down against Shu’s thigh, his face flushed and eyes
glazed as he rocks with each thrust of Rei’s hips, trembling as his own cock
throbs between his legs.
 
Rei grabs Shu’s face, his thumb dragging over that plush lower lip before
shoving past them to rub against his tongue. Shu’s bond retreats, a dull,
mollified thud, and Rei’s echoes that, content enough with this arrangement
that fucking Mika feels good, and he can actually enjoy the way Mika clenches
and squirms around his cock, shivering with every rut forward. “It’s worth it,”
he breathes, glancing down to watch his cock sink into Mika’s body, another,
long thrust sheathing himself inside so entirely that Mika moans and writhes,
clawing at the bed. “Between the two of you, I…gods, love, look at him.”
 
The buzzing turns pleasant now that Shu’s cock falls from Mika’s mouth, and he
drags his fingers through Rei’s hair, nails raking against his scalp. “Take
care of him,” he groans, shifting to the side to let Mika drape over his
thighs. “You look so beautiful together, I--”
 
He watches Rei’s aura start to bleed over, and gently lays down a thin,
permeable shield over him, just to keep his room from sprouting into flowers.
“Go on, child, tell the nice man how much you’re enjoying this.”
 
The noise Mika makes is way less words, far more broken, breathless little
whimpers and moans. “I—y…youu…g-god, it’s…”
 
Rei’s hands slide up to squeeze around his waist, and Mika squeaks, whining as
he wriggles back, grinding back against Rei’s cock with a hiccuping little
moan. “I c-caaan’t…”
 
“Yet you are, and you’re doing it so well,” Rei gasps, a bead of sweat
splattering down from his hairline onto Mika’s back when he shoves forward,
hard enough to make Mika’s knees nearly buckle. Just a bit of Shu’s touch is
enough to make that thrumming, thudding bond of his relax, to let him enjoy,
and thank the gods for that, and that thin layer of magic that stops his own
from spreading needlessly when there’s someone so lovely squirming on his cock.
 
He barely lasts another pair of thrusts. Mika arches back against him,
trembling where he sprawls across Shu’s lap, and Rei bends forward as he comes,
spilling inside with a panting, ragged gasp, his nails biting into those lean
hips and leaving deep half-moons in Mika’s skin. A long, shivery breath leaves
Mika, and Rei feels his knees completely buckle. “Don’t fall,” he dazedly
breathes, sliding an arm around Mika’s waist to keep him from slithering to the
ground. It’s only the fear of doing the same that keeps him on his feet,
especially when his magic is gently trying to burst the seams of Shu’s shield.
“Ahh, you’re a mess, aren’t you…”
 
“Toooo much,” Mika breathes, his eyes fluttering. He feels the aftershocks of
his orgasm far more than the orgasm itself, and he flops limply, pawing blindly
at Shu.
 
Guilt stings Shu like salt in wounds. He looks away, cheeks pink, unable to
meet Mika’s eyes. “Ah. I...I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. I wasn’t
thinking about your relationship, that was careless and thoughtless of me.”
 
Rei uses the very last bit of finesse he has to gently pull out, grab Mika and
toss him into Shu’s lap before he simply flops down to the floor, vibrating
slowly. Mika exhales a long, low purr, butting his head firmly into Shu’s
chest. “No,” he firmly says. “In a good way. Too much in a good way. Nhhh,
Master, let me put it in you next tiiime…”
 
“Drawing a line there,” Rei dazedly chimes in from the floor. “Behave.” 
 
Shu smiles, though the worry doesn’t leave his eyes. He strokes Mika’s hair
gently, letting the hair curl around his fingers, kissing his temple as he
adjusts them into a more comfortable position. “Just don’t let your two
powerful lovers murder me.”
***** Chapter 3 *****
Finding any of the Mika-Arashi-Izumi trio alone isn’t usually easy. Today, it
is at least doable, and Shu corners Izumi in the practice salle, shutting the
door behind him in the predawn light. “When Arashi wakes up,” he says quietly,
chin held firmly up, “you may need to restrain him. I’m taking Mika down to the
Sandlands myself.”
 
Izumi stares at him for a long moment, processing that statement and its many
annoying parts. “That,” he finally says, sheathing his sword, “is probably one
of the more sensible things I’ve heard about this whole mess. Your idea, I’m
assuming?”
 
“Yes.” Shu smoothes his hair back, a smug little smile on his face when he sees
that Izumi thinks he’s smart. “There isn’t a single way that Arashi would be
able to endure watching other men touch and assess Mika. His acting is simply
not good enough. In addition...you can’t tell me you think his reputation in
the West could survive a tryst like this.”
 
“It certainly wouldn’t help it,” Izumi admits, raking a hand back through his
bangs with a weary exhale. “And he…absolutely can’t stand when anyone else
touches Mika, yeah. I’m amazed Rei is letting you go into the thick of it,
though.”
 
Shu sniffs. “He knows I’m capable. I came up with a very good idea, and he
couldn’t find a better one. Therefore, he can’t stop me, ha!”
 
“Sounds about right.” Izumi worries at his lower lip. “Fair warning—I can’t
guarantee he won’t take off to the South himself regardless,” he says.
“Arashi’s a fucking idiot. Even if I tell him every reason why it’s a bad idea,
he’ll come up with a few reasons why it’s a good one.”
 
“Yes, that’s why I’m talking to you,” Shu says, folding his arms. “Stop him.
Distract him. Derail him. Let him know that if he comes bumbling in without
knowing the plan, he’ll get Mika killed.”
 
“I’m going to do all of that, and tell him that—but I know him, and it’s only
going to work for so long before he gets antsy.” Izumi sighs. “If he does try
to take off to the south, I’ll come with him personally to keep his head on
straight, all right? But try to get this shit taken care of quickly so I don’t
have to. There’s too much going on here.”
 
“Make something up if you have to,” Shu says with an answering sigh. “He’ll
just ruin everything. I know you adore him, but honestly. He’s about as bright
as a sack of hair, isn’t he? I’ll never understand Mika’s taste, let alone the
fact that he wound up with two men who...well.”
 
Izumi’s fingers drum against the hilt of his sword. “No, go on, finish that.”
 
Shu raises an eyebrow. “Who prefer him on his back rather than on top.”
 
“Oh. That’s just Arashi, you know, not me.”
 
“Really? How often have you been on your back for him, then?”
 
“…A few times? Listen, you can’t expect me to keep track of this when he climbs
me like a tree so often.”
 
Shu closes his eyes, pressing his fingertips to his forehead. “Mika,” he says,
quietly and with as much calm as he can muster, “primarily acts in a way that
he thinks will force the people he loves to keep him around. Do try to remember
that in the future.”
 
Izumi opens his mouth to point out any number of examples that backs up his own
experiences—but what’s the use, when Shu knows Mika infinitely better than he
probably ever will. Mika might be attached to him, Mika might like him
(possibly love him, on any given day), but Mika still is casually closed off to
him—and even to Arashi—in a number of ways. “He doesn’t have to do that shit
with me, but noted,” Izumi mutters. “I’ll do my best to keep Arashi away. He
makes it difficult, sex only works one time out of ten.” 
 
Shu nods curtly. “And I’ll do my part and try to complete this quickly.
Speaking of which, we’re leaving immediately, rather than tomorrow as planned.
I understand that Mika put something rather strong in Arashi’s drink last
night.”
 
“Little shit. Fine, that’ll fell him for another hour, maybe.” Izumi flutters a
hand. “Get out of here, consider it taken care of.”
 
Shu hesitates, then presses a chaste kiss to Izumi’s cheek. “Keep safe. I
expect to return and find you just as beautiful as I left you.”
 
Izumi’s expression is wry, and he gently pokes one of the few hickeys daring to
peek out above Shu’s collar. “Likewise. Take care of yourself. There’s nothing
good about the South and you’re going into the worst part of it.”
 
“Delightful. But I dislike most places, so this one will be little different.”
 
Despite the words, Shu feels anxiety creeping in as he finishes packing,
condensing his clothing down to a single case only because of the spectre of
Arashi waking up. Finally he loads his carriage, bids Rei an absolutely-not-
tearful farewell, and shuts the door, looking down at his knees as the carriage
rolls him and Mika away from the Capital. “Well. Are you quite prepared?”
 
Mika, wrapped up firmly within a cloak that’s at least three sizes too big for
him, exhales a short little sigh. “As much as I’m gonna be,” he says, forcing a
smile. “Is Izumin takin’ care of the Arashi stuff? I feel bad not even sayin’
good bye, but I dunno what else to do…”
 
Shu looks up, then pats the bench next to him, raising an arm. “Come sit with
me, we’ll be warmer. Yes, Izumi is taking care of it, it’ll be fine.” It likely
won’t, but Mika doesn’t need that to worry about on top of everything else.
 
Mika immediately scuttles over, snuggling right up against Shu and against his
side. “At least it’s not as bad bein’ mostly blind as I thought,” he murmurs.
“Turns out, I don’t like seein’ most things anyway.”
 
“Very little in this world is worthy of your gaze,” Shu says with a shrug,
tucking Mika under his arm. “I do wish we had more time to plan. I don’t feel
good enough to do this, but I will ensure that we’re successful. It’s the least
I can do.”
 
“If you’re with me, it’ll be fine,” Mika quietly says, butting his face into
Shu’s chest. “I’m sorry you gotta leave Rei, but I’m glad you’re with me.”
 
“We’ve been apart for longer,” Shu assures him, stroking Mika’s hair. “I just
hope that your big lug of a lover doesn’t make too much trouble. I think we’ll
be able to carry out our mission before anything terrible happens, as long as
he stays out of it.”
 
Mika groans, stuffing his face harder against Shu’s chest. “If anyone can make
him stay back here, it’s Izumin,” he miserably says. “But even that’s got a
time limit. He’s gonna be so mad at me, I hope he doesn’t hate me after this…”
 
“If he hates you for trying to keep him safe while you rescue hundreds of
children from slavery,” Shu says dryly, “I’ll have the king string him up.”
 
“Nooo. No. You can’t, I love him.” Mika sniffs hard, trying to make sure he
doesn’t cry off his makeup for the fifteenth time. “He won’t hate me for that,
he’ll hate me for lyin’ to him and leavin’ without saying a word.”
 
“You two made it several years without even being able to kiss,” Shu reminds
him. “And you were usually apart in that time. I hope this won’t last nearly so
long.”
 
“Still different.” Mika huffs. “Jus’ pet me, I don’t wanna think about it
anymore.”
 
Hoofbeats sound outside, and Shu frowns, opening the window and looking out. He
blinks, looking back, then nods. “It looks like your assistant is here. I
suppose Rei does keep most of his promises, in the end, even if he is a bit
late.”
 
“I don’t even want an assistant, I just want you,” Mika bemoans, pulling his
cloak on over his head. “Can you deal with it? I don’t wanna.”
 
Shu’s mouth turns in sudden, anxious distaste. His hands wring on his lap, and
he sucks in a deep breath before muttering to himself, “It’s fine. I can talk
to people. I haven’t met him, but that doesn’t matter. I can talk to anyone,
I’m the best at it.”
 
Mika lingers for a moment longer before heaving a sigh, unfolding himself from
Shu’s side, and scooting over to the window. He pats around it for a second to
find the latch before pulling it open, and sticks his head out, hoping he
doesn’t look as tired as he feels already. “Hey, um…Hajime, was it?” 
 
Hajime, perched atop a slender little horse, starts a bit at being suddenly
greeted. “Um! Yes, hello, my apologies—I rode all night to get here, I know
we’re running behind, but I…”
 
“Master, you’ll like him, he’s your type,” Mika says without batting an eye,
slinking back into the carriage. “Make ‘em stop so he can climb in here with us
and we can talk.”
 
Shu raps firmly on the front of the carriage, which slows to a stop. He looks
askance at the boy entering, then nods decisively, face softening as he scoots
over, leaving a space. “Yes, he’s just exactly my type, isn’t he? Ah, you’re
incredibly beautiful, hello.”
 
Hajime situates himself into the tiniest ball possible, folding his hands into
his lap as he ducks his head polite. “Thank you, Excellency,” he softly says,
glancing down with flushed cheeks. “Um, I hope I can be of some use to you
both.”
 
“So little,” Mika murmurs, reaching over to pat Hajime’s head. “Geez, I hope
you carry a dagger or something, you’re the kind that people get real weird
about…”
 
“Oh, um, yes. I have several knives.”
 
Shu’s eyes light up at that, and he folds his hands, though they itch to start
taking measurements. “Ah, Mika was right, you truly are my favorite sort. What
will be your part to play in our charade, little one? I doubt he’s sending you
down to play at being a patron.”
 
Hajime shakes his head, the blush firmly remaining on his cheeks. “Lord Rei…he,
ah, he took me in, when I was quite young,” he softly says. “And he sent me
south, so that I could work and send money back to my family. I’m…I’m certainly
not as experienced, or beautiful, or talented as you,” he says, glancing
briefly up at Mika, then away again, “but in this case, I’m…meant to be your,
um, servant, or sorts? I’m good with dressing others, and…and with my own
experience, if a patron hassles you, I know how to step in and help, s-so…”
 
“That’ll be good, ‘specially ‘cause I can barely see anythin’,” Mika says with
a sigh, flopping back against the wall of the carriage. “Good, I’m glad he’s
sendin’ someone that knows how to work in this kinda place. I know Master can’t
be with me all the time.”
 
“You’ll have to make certain that you use all of your skills to keep him
looking beautiful,” Shu lectures immediately, hands moving to touch the boy’s
hair, then his face, clinically evaluating him. “You’re lovely, but his beauty
must be the main focus, or you’ll take the attention away from him. This is for
your safety as much as anything. Now, I can likely take you both as parties I’m
interested in, but I likely won’t be able to finance keeping both of you from
servicing customers at all, are you prepared for this?”
 
Hajime shifts a little bit underneath the touch, unsure, but his expression
doesn’t change as he hesitantly lifts his eyes to meet Shu’s gaze. “This isn’t
my first time in a brothel, Excellency,” he quietly says. “It doesn’t bother
me, either. Lord Rei asked me to come because he knew I didn’t mind—and he said
I could keep part of my earnings,” he adds a bit more brightly. “So that’s
helpful!”
 
Shu snorts. “Absurd, you’ll be keeping all of your earnings during this little
endeavor. Rei certainly doesn’t need them. I assume you have family that you’re
supporting? You have the look of such a thing.”
 
“Y-yes? But it’s…it’s not Lord Rei that wants them,” Hajime carefully says.
“He’s not sending us to one of his brothels directly, unless I’m mistaken? He
couldn’t, it would be too obvious…”
 
“Probably one of his associates, then?” Mika wearily says, his head thumping
back against the carriage window. “Nnn, Master, you ever remember how bad your
man is?”
 
“Horrific,” Shu agrees with a little smile. “Absolutely the worst. Boy--and
remind me your name--do you know much about the local culture and language, if
you’ve worked down there before?”
 
“H-Hajime, Excellency,” Hajime answers, his fingers twisting in his lap.
“Um—I’m a little rusty, but—“ He bites his lip, then adds, in stilted, but
still quite passable sand tongue—“I can speak it, a little.”
 
“Oooh, you’re not bad at all!” Mika brightly says. “Nice, nice, this won’t be
so bad at all, then. I don’t have t’translate all the time, heh. See, Master,
this’ll work.”
 
“Indeed.” Shu raises an eyebrow, mentally glaring back at the Academy. “Indeed,
it almost makes one wonder why they thought it was so necessary to send you,
Mika, when this lovely, capable child was available.”
 
“Because I can’t fetch the price that someone like Lord Mika could,” Hajime
says, shaking his head. “Or..or attract actual slavers, I think. I can deal
with patrons, but I’m not…impressive, or um, all that good at actually
approaching them on my own, unless I absolutely have to…”
 
“Nice, I have the reputation as the superior whore,” Mika dryly says underneath
his breath.
 
“I can’t deny that I think you’re the most beautiful one,” Shu says with a
sigh, then pats the seat in front of him, gesturing to Hajime. “Your hair is a
disaster. Mika, my hair tools.”
 
Hajime blinks, then shuffles to sit as he’s directed. “U-um, thank you very
much! I don’t mean to trouble you…”
 
“You ain’t troublin’ him, he likes it,” Mika says, passing the case over before
nestling back up into his cloak. “Lucky you, Master, you’ve got your kinda
types everywhere.”
 
“And also lucky me, we have several days of time, during which I’ll be able to
properly craft this child’s hair to my specifications. Honestly,” Shu says
crossly, gentle fingers tugging and threading through the long straight sheet
of hair, inexpertly cut, “did you do this yourself with a blunt knife? And no
mirror?”
 
“Um…yes?”
 
Shu opens his mouth, then closes it again, and scowls. “Well, don’t do that
again. How is everyone supposed to see how lovely you are when you’re hiding
behind something so hideous?”
 
“I…I don’t know, Excellency?” Hajime squeaks. “I never really thought about it.
If it were up to me, I’d probably just cut it all off…”
 
“That was a rhetorical question,” Shu says with a sigh, “and now that you’ve
responded, I’ll have to pretend that you didn’t. Cut it off, when it’s so
beautiful? Hold still, this won’t hurt.”
 
“Just let him make you pretty,” Mika reassures Hajime with a pat on the
shoulder. “He likes it and then you’ll look so good.”
 
Hajime bites his lip, but does as he’s told, holding still for his haircut.
“Thank you,” he quietly says. “I’ll make sure to do my best to keep you both
safe.”
 
“He’s the one who’ll be in danger,” Shu says firmly, setting his fingers to
start intricate braids in that fine straight hair. His fingers work quickly and
efficiently, flying through the braiding, and to distract Hajime, he extends a
flare of magic.
 
A tiny glass figure, who stays hidden most times these days, flits out of Shu’s
travel bag, landing on Hajime’s knee with a polite curtsy. “That’s Milady.
She’ll help you keep watch.”
 
Hajime blinks a few times, and he almost reaches out to touch the figure before
he drops his hand. “Ah—she’s beautiful. Any help is wonderful, I’m not a
wizard, and I’m not enhanced, so…I’m afraid my talents really are limited…”
 
“During his stay, Mika will be just as limited,” Shu says, finishing one braid
and moving on to another. “He’ll be sealed magically, and he’s nearly blind, as
well.”
 
“Really? Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, with the way you move…”
 
“I’ve been half-blind for years, this is jus’ a lil step above,” Mika dismisses
with a wave of a hand. He yawns, pulling his cloak up and over his head again.
“Nn, Master, I’m goin’ t’bed, I didn’t sleep last night ‘cause I was so
anxious.”
 
“You may be going to sleep, but I highly doubt you’re going to bed,” Shu says
with a long-suffering sigh. “As we are currently quite far from any beds. Mm,
leave me alone, I have work to do on this beautiful child.”
 
“Master’s my bed,” Mika sleepily declares, and promptly flops over to pass out
across Shu’s lap while he works.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Two days into the trip South, with warmer weather quickly approaching, the
sound of approaching footsteps rouses Mika from his drowsing.
 
“Captain—Captain, you can’t just—“
 
Captain? That sends a bolt of panic quickly through Mika, and he sucks in a
sharp breath, scrambling to sit up, huddled back into his cloak. Arashi is
going to be mad at me, Arashi is going to take me back, Arashi is going to
argue and fight with Shu and that’s no good—nerves make tears abruptly spring
to his eyes, and he frantically looks to Shu, grabbing for his arm. “I’m
sorry—I really thought Izumin would be able to keep him back!”
 
Shu grits his teeth, moving Mika behind him, placing himself between Mika and
the door. He readies his magic, just on the off-chance that Arashi is that
angry, hearing the sounds of the guard being tossed aside as easily as if he
weighed nothing.
 
Then the door of the inn slams open, and the figure of a tall, broad-shouldered
man stands there, arms akimbo. “There you are!” he cries triumphantly, bounding
into the room and stopping just in front of Hajime. “Shinonon!! You left
without me, you promised you wouldn’t go back down there!”
 
Shu melts, then quietly grabs a blanket and pulls it over his head before he
starts shaking.
 
Mika blinks rapidly, certainly not recognizing the voice as a familiar one, and
he hurriedly squishes himself up against Shu, clinging to him tightly—for all
the good that does when he’s trembling, too.
 
For his part, Hajime blinks rapidly, staring up at the face of a man he knows
very well—Captain Subaru, the head of Rei’s personal guard in High Harbor. He
opens his mouth, then shuts it again, twisting his hands nervously in front of
himself. “Lord Rei needed me,” he blurts out, unable to think of anything
better to say. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you…”
 
“But last time...”
 
Subaru’s face is a mess, stressed and ragged, and he sinks down to his knees in
front of Hajime, reaching up to cup his cheeks. Even in the low light, the
gentle blue of Hajime’s eyes is enough to make his heart lurch. “Last time I
almost lost you. If it was getting that bad at home, you should have told me, I
found a lot of coins on the beach last month!”
 
“I-it’s not like that!” Hajime quickly protests, reaching up to grasp at
Subaru’s hands, his face burning. “I…ahh…h-he…he asked me to come. It’s…not
like it was before, I swear,” he tries to explain, licking at his lips
nervously, sparing a glance back to Shu and Mika. “I’m…on a mission for the
king. I can’t say much, I’m really sorry!”
 
Subaru’s shoulders slump. “Ahhh, that’s so much worse! If it’s not about money,
I can’t stop you, right? But I want to! You’re gonna get hurt again--I’ll come
with you!”
 
No, you will not, Shu wants to say, but his throat is still locked up, and he
squeezes his eyes shut, resting his chin on Mika’s head.
 
“You can’t,” Mika blurts out, nervously squeezing his arms around Shu. “I-it’ll
blow our cover, Hajime could get hurt.”
 
“He’s right, Captain,” Hajime whispers, squeezing Subaru’s hands. “I’m sorry,
I’m really sorry, but you can’t come. We have to go into a brothel undercover,
and…and if someone like you is there, that could make it a lot more dangerous.”
 
“But Rei promised!” Subaru almost snarls the words, bringing Hajime’s hands to
his chest, holding them protectively. “He said you wouldn’t have to do that
anymore! Hey, wizard boy, you wouldn’t want this sweet guy to get hurt, right?
I’m gonna marry him, you know? As soon as I get my commission, and I’m allowed
to support a wife!”
 
“E-eh? C…captain, you know, e-even though I look like this, I’m still a man—“
Hajime flounders, his cheeks flushing a brilliant red.
 
“He probably won’t have to do anythin’,” Mika manages, swallowing hard as he
tries to steady himself. He sucks in a deep breath, unwrapping himself from Shu
to stand in front of him instead, his fingers twisting up into his long
sleeves. “He’s…he’s just goin’ as my servant. It’s all an act, if all goes
accordin’ t’plan, he’ll be fine.”
 
Hajime nods vigorously, his hair swishing forward. “Listen to him,” he pleads.
“Lord Rei isn’t making me do anything, I…I’m not going back to that kind of
thing again, I just—this is for the king, and to help other people.”
 
Subaru looks suspiciously between Hajime and Mika, then beams. “Well! If you’re
really gonna be safe with these guys, then I guess it’s okay! I’ll miss you,
though. Hurry home when you’re done!”
 
“…Are you really going to go back up north and let us go to the south?” Hajime
skeptically says. “You can’t follow us. I know you want to help, but you
can’t.”
 
Subaru’s face falls. “Ahh, Shinonon is too smart, you saw through my plan,” he
complains. “What am I supposed to do while you’re in danger?”
 
“I’m not in danger,” Hajime patiently says. “Not really. You should go back to
the capital, it would be really easy to check in on me there! I’m sure we’ll be
reporting progress there.”
 
Subaru scowls, but nods. “Okay. I’ll come down and check on you if the reports
stop, though! Even one day without and I’ll be in the Sandlands in an hour!”
 
“Um—I don’t think it’s going to happen daily? That seems like a lot and it’s a
lot further than an hour from the capital—“
 
“Half an hour!”
 
“I think it’s like five days, actually?”
 
“Five minutes! Time can’t keep us apart!”
 
Hajime’s lower lip wobbles. “Saying things like that—I’m sorry for worrying
you, I’m really sorry, you s-shouldn’t have had to come down here…”
 
Subaru beams, and lets go of Hajime’s hands, giving him a hug instead. “I’d
have ridden a lot farther to see you, though! Ahh, I’d start at High Harbor and
go to the Shadowlands to smell your hair!”
 
Hajime sniffles, burying his face into Subaru’s chest when he can’t stop
himself any longer. “D-don’t say things like that, it’s so embarrassing! I told
you before, I’m not a girl…”
 
Mika exhales a slow breath, gradually calming down himself as he turns around
to gently pull up the edge of Shu’s blanket and shuffle underneath it himself.
“It should be fine,” he whispers. “I think he’s actually gonna listen.”
 
“I don’t like any of this,” Shu whispers, laying his head on Mika’s shoulder.
The loud noises, the surprises, the frightening nature of a man that throws
around his weight like that--it’s too easy to remember, for the first time in a
long time, people he doesn’t like remembering.
 
“Ahhh, but you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” Subaru teases. Then he
squeezes Hajime’s shoulders, and stands. “I’ll wait for the reports. Be safe!”
 
Hajime sniffles again, but nods, scrubbing at his burning cheeks. “O-okay,” he
whispers. “Thank you for coming to check on me, but—but I promise I’ll be
safe.”
 
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Mika quietly says, stroking his fingers through Shu’s
hair to pet him gently. “He’s not coming with us, see? He’s already going.
Nnnn, what’s up with us girly lil’ prostitutes liking soldiers so much, huh?
We’re dumb.”
 
A moment later, the door shuts again, Subaru’s booted feet clunking away from
the door. Shu slowly removes the blanket, staring after him. “He could at least
have kissed you goodbye,” he sniffs. “We weren’t looking.”
 
Hajime blinks over at him, wiping gingerly at his eyes. “Eh? Why would he do
that?”
 
Mika stares over at him, and even if he’s mostly unseeing, the effect is still
there. “‘Cause…you two are lovers?”
 
“What?” Hajime’s blush returns, and he covers his mouth with both hands. “N-no!
No, no no no, no! We couldn’t be, he’s so important, I’m just a stable boy,
that’s—no!”
 
“Doesn’t he want to marry you?” Shu asks, a little more amused than shaken and
depressed now. “Clearly he doesn’t mind you being rather...hmm, unimportant, in
your own words.”
 
Hajime shakes his head rapidly, the flush on his cheeks somehow deepening. “H-
he just says things like that, it’s…it’s a joke! T-the captain’s always been
like that, it’s not the same!”
 
Mika’s eyes roll so hard that he wonders if they’ll fall out already. “Yeah,
that sounds real.”
 
“Do you love him?” Shu asks, eyebrow raised as he shifts closer to Hajime,
letting Milady flit out to sit on his lap again, as the child had enjoyed it
so. “I don’t think your young man cares about status much.”
 
“H-he’s not my young man,” Hajime stammers, slinking back and huddling up to
watch Milady. “I…he…w-what I think isn’t important, we’re both men, that
doesn’t…I mean, I know both of you…but it’s different, you’re both important,
it’s…”
 
“Well, there’s your incentive to do well as Mika’s servant,” Shu says abruptly,
sending Milady into a tinkling little spin. “If you do well, Lord Rei will
reward you, and you too will be important.”
 
“I feel like it’s a lot easier to roll around with other men if you’re a
commoner that’s got nothin’ else to do,” Mika complains, flopping back down
into his cloak with a yawn. “But maybe that’s jus’ me.”
 
“I don’t want to be a burden to him,” Hajime softly says, glancing down at his
hands. “He’s…he’s such a good person. He came all this way to make sure I was
safe…I’m not sure I deserve that…”
 
“Why?” Shu demands. “You’re more beautiful than he is. As long as you believe
it, he’ll believe it, too. Lift your chin, if you like him, he’d be lucky to
have you.”
 
“Captain Subaru is very handsome,” Hajime defensively mumbles. “Next to him,
I’m not even close.”
 
“Ahh, there it is,” Mika drowsily says. “Jus’ climb him. Boys’ll fuck you,
y’know—“
 
“E-excellency!”
 
“What? They will.”
 
“Given what he’s here to do,” Shu says dryly, “I rather doubt that he doesn’t
know that. Are you trying to tell me that he hasn’t even tried, though? Are
either of you sworn to chastity or something?”
 
“H…he’s just been like this, always,” Hajime mumbles. “I just don’t think…it
wouldn’t be right, trying to drag him into something he doesn’t want…”
 
“Oh my god, he wants to plow you.”
 
“Excellency!”
 
“He does, geez. Anyone can see that. And you’re pretty, who could blame him?”
 
“Child,” Shu says wearily, “in two days, you’ll both be masquerading as
Sandlands prostitutes. Start practicing not calling him Excellency and blushing
every time he mentions sex, or you’ll get both of you killed.”
 
“Maybe that’s part of his charm,” Mika says with a roll of his eyes. “Suuuper
cute and innocent. Whatever, I’m gonna go back to bed, that was too much for
one day. I only like soldiers that wanna plow me.”
 
“Crass, but likely appropriate,” Shu mutters, and snuggles into his blankets
again. “If someone else blunders in, just smother me.”
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Arashi has seen red many times in the past. Usually, it happens in battle. He
prefers that--then he can take out his anger on the enemy, slicing through
them, leaving them in tatters.
 
But when the ‘enemy’ is one of his lovers, when the betrayal happens in the
place where he usually feels safe and loved, all he can do is try not to cry.
The anger still burns in him, but his lip quivers, and he turns his face away
from Izumi, voice thick and choked as he manages, “H-he...really thinks I’m
useless and brutish, doesn’t he?”
 
Izumi wonders how he ended up here, as the buffer between every other person
and their problems.
 
“No, no, you know that’s not it,” Izumi sighs all the same, placing a hand
against Arashi’s back, gently rubbing. “More than anything, you know he has to
be afraid of damaging your reputation.  With this whole marriage thing going
on, you chasing after a prostitute in the Sandlands…you know that’s going to
cause a stir.”
 
“That’s what I mean.” Arashi wouldn’t let anyone else, even Mika, hear him
sound so forlorn. “I should have taken care of all that ages ago. Now he’s
going to be in danger, he’s going to be afraid and alone and needing
me.....because I was, what, squeamish? Ugh, I hate this, I need cake.”
 
“He has Shu with him, lest you forget—and I think you’re very aware how well
they work together,” Izumi says, firming his touch and giving Arashi’s back a
thump. “He’ll be safe. He won’t be safe if you go riding in without warning,
however, so you’re going to have to stay away, no matter how much you hate it.
Believe me, I don’t like it, either.”
 
“I’m useless,” Arashi says glumly. “And fat. And if your lover keeps being good
at democracy, useless as a soldier, too.”
 
“You’re not fat, you idiot,” Izumi exasperatedly says, grabbing Arashi by the
shoulder to spin him around. “Stop crying, it makes your skin blotchy. You’re
not useless, there’s always going to be a need for soldiers, and if you’re
smart, you take this time to settle everything about your marriage before Mika
gets back so neither of you even have to think about it again.”
 
“Get a girl.” Arashi opens the cupboard against the wall, grabbing a couple of
bottles of wine. “I’m serious. Get one right now and watch how useless I am,
teach me to get better. Get my mind off of what he’s doing right now.”
 
Izumi opens his mouth to protest, then thinks the better of it and just stares
back at him. “Are you sure you don’t…want me to warm you up first? And, uh,
don’t drink too much, that’s a recipe for disaster, you’re already fickle…”
 
“You’re not going to be around to warm me up before my wedding,” Arashi
mutters, but he sets the wine aside, folding his arms. “Get a girl, you can
warm me up when she’s here. We’ll pay her enough to be quiet after.”
 
“I’m absolutely going to be around to warm you up before your wedding, are you
insane?” Izumi grouses as he heads towards the door. “You’ll need it. I’ll be
right back, I think Kasa’s already got a girl he’d be willing to loan us, and
she’s already paid to keep her mouth shut, so it’s a win-win.”
 
He shuts the door behind himself with a long, heavy sigh, wiping a hand down
his face. He’d expected Arashi to be angry, but this upset is far more
stressful. He tries to shove it from his mind as he starts off down the hall,
making a beeline for Tsukasa’s suite. He raps his knuckles against it once,
hears the pause of a few telltale activities, and opens it without another
moment’s warning. What the hell does a prostitute care, anyway?
 
Except that absolutely isn’t a prostitute, and judging by how Tsukasa scrambles
to flip a few blankets over the head of the person instead, this is supposed to
be a firmly kept secret.
 
“Are you shitting me,” Izumi deadpans, staring at the pink tufts of hair
peeking out from the blankets no matter Tsukasa’s desperate attempts to hide
it. “I thought you two hated each other.”
 
“Now is really not a good time, Lord Izumi,” Tsukasa hastily says, yanking up
his trousers. “If you would be so kind as to walk out and forget this ever
happened, that would be greatly appreciated!”
 
“Get out of here!” a shrill voice orders in a panic, and Tori of the Himemiya
household starts grabbing discarded items of clothing, hurling them at Izumi
instead of trying to cover himself. “You can’t just barge in--I’ll have you
murdered, I’m a powerful wizard and my father could buy you!!”
 
“Why would he ever want to do that?” Izumi dryly asks, stepping out of the way
and letting Tori’s cloak fly past him into the hallway. “Anyway, I was hoping
you had a prostitute with you, but I suppose that’s too much to ask right now…”
 
“I’ll recommend a number of brothels to you if you please leave,” Tsukasa
moans, raking a hand back through his hair before he whips around to snarl at
Tori, “Stop throwing things, you’re just making this more difficult!”
 
“Shut up! You’re the worst! I can’t believe I let you even look at me!” Tori
shrieks, shoving Tsukasa off the bed, face as red as a tomato.
 
Tsukasa stumbles up to his feet and looks back to Izumi, desperation on his
face. “Please don’t—“
 
“Tell the king? Oh,” Izumi says, backing out of the room slowly, “yeah. I’m
going to do that.”
 
“No, you can’t—Izumi, please, I—“
 
Izumi quickly slams the door, exhales, and makes a beeline back to Arashi.
 
“So,” he says, poking his head back into the room. “You’re going to need to
wait, because Kasa doesn’t have a woman right now, I’m not grabbing the first
one I see, and I have to report something to the king. We can go to a brothel
tonight, how does that sound?”
 
“Fine,” Arashi says with a sigh, grabbing his boots and yanking them on. “You
look like you’ve seen a hilarious ghost, by the way. What on earth did you walk
in on Tsukasa doing?”
 
“Fucking Tori of the Himemiya household.”
 
“What about hi--wait.”
 
The gloom vanishes from Arashi’s eyes, and he clasps his hands in front of
himself a couple of times with glee. “Really? Like, fucking?”
 
Izumi can’t stop himself any longer, and he steps back into the room entirely,
shutting the door behind himself. “Yes, like fucking,” he gleefully says,
trying not to burst out laughing. “The little brat started throwing his shit at
me like a lady, even—and Kasa just kept saying please don’t tell, please don’t
say anything—can you believe it, I knew they hated each other, but—“
 
“We’ve got to tell the king,” Arashi crows. “He’ll be so happy, honestly, he’s
been so down lately, Mik--”
 
He’s already half-turned by the time he remembers that Mika is gone, and his
face falls again. No, I can’t do this until he gets home.He forces his smile
back, which is easy when he tries to picture--
 
“Who was on top?”
 
“Kasa,” Izumi says with a snort, grabbing Arashi by the arm to pull him towards
the door. “Come with me, this will be entertainment for both of us. I also
might need you to help me restrain the king in the event he wants to go gut the
two scions of the richest families in the realm.”
 
“Eh? Wouldn’t he just want to tease and blackmail them in turn?” Arashi cocks
his head, following Izumi out the door. “Why would he want to gut them?”
 
“Because,” Izumi says, “Kasa is still betrothed to his little sister. This
shouldn’t matter, I know, I know, but this is Leo we’re talking about…”
 
“Gods. You’re right. You really do know him the best, eh?” Arashi sighs,
setting a brisk pace through the halls. “Well, if you want to marry the
Princess, I have a feeling you’re about to get the chance.”
 
“Oh, he’d kill me, too,” Izumi says with a laugh. “If the king had his way,
she’d never be wed. Or he’d marry her himself and lock her in a tower so no one
could ever touch her, that sort of thing.”
 
Outside of Leo’s offices, Izumi pauses and releases Arashi’s arm prior to
nodding at the guards posted there, and knocking once on the door. “Your
Majesty? If you aren’t preoccupied, I’d like a moment of your time.”
 
There’s no response from behind the door. After a moment, leaning close, Arashi
hears a faint scratching sound. He sighs, and looks at one of the guards. “How
long has that sound been coming from there?”
 
“A few hours, sir,” the guard says, trying not to look resigned.
 
“Great. The cleaning staff already hates us,” Arashi says with a sigh. “I hope
he’s stuck to the stone, if he’s ruined another tapestry...”
 
“For the love of…” Izumi grumbles, abandoning all attempts to look professional
as he irritably shoves open the door and glowers upward. “Leo. What the fuck
are you doing.”
 
Leo doesn’t even look up, humming to himself as he sketches notes on the stone
floor, eyes dilated, entirely focused. His quill leaves splatters where it
moves, and Leo’s hands and (for some reason) his cheeks are covered in dark
inky splotches.
 
“Uh...should we try knocking again?”
 
“No, just give me a second.”
 
Izumi strides swiftly over to Leo’s desk, scooping up an entire roll of blank
parchment paper, and promptly rolls it out across the floor before he grabs Leo
by the shoulders and turns him towards it. “There. Keep it up, just do it
there. Ahh, gods, no matter how many times I try to catch him in time, this
just happens still.”
 
“Awww, Izumi is such a good wife after all,” Arashi hums, shutting the door
securely behind him. “I’ll never understand why he doesn’t just start out on
the paper, he’ll never be able to move it.”
 
“Because he doesn’t think in the slightest when he’s in one of these fugue
states,” Izumi exasperatedly says, plucking up another sheaf of paper with the
thought of copying down Leo’s previous scrawl in mind, but one look at it makes
him sigh and give up. Only Leo can decipher that sort of mess, more or less.
“At least it’s just on stone this time—a month ago, it was the wall, then a
painting, then another painting, and I swear the castle historians were going
to eat him alive…”
 
“Aaaaahhhh!”
 
Leo finally notices that there are people in the room with him, and he falls
over backwards, eyes wide and startled. “You! Who are--oh, Izumi! And, um, the
other one!”
 
“Wow, really?”
 
“He does this,” Izumi sighs, crouching down next to Leo. “Welcome back, Your
Majesty. Are you focused, or should I wait until you’ve truly come back to this
world?”
 
Leo’s heart thuds against his ribcage, everything swimming strangely before his
eyes before it slowly fades back into focus. He breathes, then shakes his head,
growling a little. “I’m here, I’m here, nnn. Sorry. Is it urgent?”
 
Izumi’s heart twists, which is a stark, annoying contrast to the irritation
that flares up at the same time. Broken bonds can cause any number of issues,
Rei had told him when this first started happening. His behavior is probably
the result of that.
 
Knowing that didn’t make it easier, especially when there’s nothing he can do
about it. Izumi’s lips purse, and he decides to just be blunt. Sometimes,
that’s enough to help snap Leo back to reality. “I found Tsukasa rutting with
the Himemiya heir.”
 
The last of the haze vanishes from Leo’s eyes, and he bristles like a tiny,
angry squirrel, shooting up to his feet. “What? Where is he? I’ll kill him!
Where’s my sword? No, I need at least three swords!”
 
“Maybe not just yet with the swords,” Arashi says, hand covering his mouth in
amusement. “After all, you’re the one who made it legal, Majesty.”
 
“Nonsense! Izumi, get me five swords!”
 
This is much better. “Arashi’s right,” Izumi says, trying not to laugh as he
straightens up to his feet again. “He’s not doing anything illegal. I just, ah,
heh, thought you might like to know. You can’t kill him, though.”
 
Leo scowls with all the ferocity of a man who’d caught someone smearing feces
over his prized possessions. “Exile, then. To somewhere really nasty.”
 
“It’s not illegal,” Izumi mildly repeats, already in the process of attempting
to tidy up Leo’s office—which is, as per usual, in a remarkable state of
disarray after one of his states. “You can’t exile him. If you did that, you’re
giving a number of people leverage to do the same to me.”
 
Leo visibly deflates. “Being a king is no fun at all, don’t recommend it,” he
groans, flopping facedown onto the stone floor. “Can I at least, I don’t know,
send him an angry reprimand letter? Or pull his pants off in public?”
 
“You can send him an angry letter,” Izumi relents, setting piles and piles of
papers back up onto Leo’s desk. “But please don’t pull his pants off in public.
You’re a king, not a five year old.”
 
“Fine, fine. No fun, but fine.” Leo picks up his quill and one of the pieces of
paper, then hands them both to Izumi. “Make it really scary-sounding. Like,
imply exile.”
 
Izumi raises his eyebrows and takes a step back. “Uh uh. You want a letter, you
write the letter. I don’t think he did anything wrong, you’re the one that’s
ready to rip his balls off.”
 
Leo brandishes the paper and pen again, insistent. “Izumi! Write it for me!
Your king, it’s me, I’m ordering, grr! I’ll tell you what to write!”
 
“Listen to him growling at me,” Izumi says over Leo’s head to Arashi, entirely
unfazed. “Is that what squirrels sound like when they’re angry? Ah, this is
your chance, Arashi. You should marry the princess instead.”
 
“No!” Leo snaps, glaring up at Arashi. “My precious perfect little sister is
going to marry someone that is a virgin and is going to love her forever
without any lovers on the side!!!!”
 
“We fought a revolution to put him in power,” Arashi says with a sigh.
 
“Leo,” Izumi sweetly begins, dropping a stack of paperwork down to spin Leo
around to face him, hands squeezing his shoulders. “No nobleman is ever a
virgin when they marry. Do you know why? Because noblemen have money, and want
to put their dicks in soft, warm things.”
 
“Right, I’m sending my sister to a nunnery. Awwww, she’ll be such a cute nun!”
 
“I’m advising—no, I’m telling you not to do that. Tsukasa or Arashi, those are
your marriage options for her, and Arashi is honestly the kinder one at this
rate, because he’ll barely touch her and doesn’t that sound more along the
lines of what you want?”
 
“But he’s in love with someone else,” Leo says, voice suddenly soft. “And I
want her to have the chance to know love. No, none of them will do--I’ll have a
challenge of old, an archery contest for her hand! That’s nice and romantic,
right?”
 
“I mean...it is awfully romantic,” Arashi says carefully.
 
Izumi stares down at him, and after a moment, finally says, “You’re not allowed
to enter.”
 
“BUT--”
 
Leo cuts himself off, then smiles to himself, a sly look in his eyes. “All
right. Deal.” Time to find a fake mustache and big hat.
 
“Or allowed to enter in disguise.”
 
Leo throws up his hands. “What am I allowed to do, then?? Write my letter
already!”
 
“You write your letter,” Izumi firmly says, folding his arms across his chest.
“Kasa is a fine match, even if he is fucking that little gremlin for whatever
reason. Arashi is a fine enough match, too, so pick your poison. Better either
of them than anyone else and no, before you try to ask me again like you do
when you’re drunk, I will not marry her and keep her pure.”
 
“But you’re my poison-eater,” Leo says miserably. “I don’t want to pick a
poison, I want to pick something awesome. Know what? Yeah, I am going to hold a
contest. Then they’ll know that the king is really a man of the people!
Ah...I’m going to ask her opinion, first. That sounds good.”
 
“Yes, ask her first, because if some terrible brute enters and wins, that would
be very bad,” Izumi says with a long sigh. He stares around at the floor, at
the ink splattered and smeared everywhere, and wearily asks, “Do you want to
copy down any of this mess onto parchment before I bring the cleaning staff
in?”
 
“I’ll get to it. You can have them clean it, it’s the act of writing that
helps,” Leo murmurs vaguely, eyes starting to glaze again. He stops them,
shaking his head, and stands with a bounce, rocking on the balls of his feet.
“I’m going to see my wonderful little sister, you want to come?”
 
“As per usual,” Izumi says, and reaches out to lightly pat Arashi’s shoulder.
“I’ll meet up with you tonight, all right? Don’t run off and do anything you’ll
regret, or I’ll personally chase your ass down.”
 
Arashi sighs, then nods. “Bring what we talked about, would you? When you show
up? I can’t be seen arranging it myself. Enjoy yourself, though.”
 
Leo grabs Izumi’s hand and takes off with him down the hallways, nimbly darting
towards Ruka’s room, leaving his guards behind. “I’ve got you,” he says,
laughing as he squeezes. “I should have made you catch me!”
 
“Please never do that, it stresses me,” Izumi bemoans, gripping Leo’s hand in a
vice-tight grip so that he can’t escape. “You know, Majesty, walking in a calm
and dignified manner might be a bit more fitting of a king in this day and
age.” It’s moot to even suggest it, but he has to try.
 
“Know who was calm and dignified? My dad. Bad king, though. I’ve gotta keep
being the opposite, you know?”
 
“You certainly are the opposite,” Izumi sighs, though it’s hard to keep back
even the tiniest of smiles at that. “Unpredictable is probably a better word.
Which brings me to my next point, Leo—the idea of a bunch of men fighting over
your sister’s hand…you know you’d have to explain to the Suou family why you’re
suddenly turning him away, right?”
 
“Nah, I’ll be nice enough to let him explain it,” Leo says with a wink. “Come
on, Izumi, don’t you see? He’s good at archery, it gives him a chance to win
her back if he really wants to, and then she can see there’s someone out there
that would do anything for her.”
 
“I also see his performance anxiety at any given point, especially if you’re
there and watching.”
 
“Exactly! That’s when I sweep in with a mustache, and--”
 
“No. Try again.”
 
“Grrrrr!”
 
“It’s very adorable when you growl at me like that, but only constructive if
you want me to touch you in a way that’s inappropriate for our current
surroundings.”
 
“I always want you to touch me all gross-like,” Leo says frankly, reaching over
to pinch Izumi’s arse as he pulls up to Ruka’s room. “My god, behave! Ahh,
Rukaaaaa, darling!! Your awesome big brother’s heeeeere!”
 
Just as Ruka’s door swings open, Izumi slaps a hand against Leo’s backside, and
greets her with a smile. “Hello, Milady.”
 
The squeak and blush that he’s greeted with is tell-tale, and the door slams
shut again. “I-I’m not ready! You’re the worst, brother!”
 
“Whoops,” Izumi casually says, glancing down at Leo. “I suppose you should have
warned her.”
 
“You just slammed your door shut on your king!” Leo yells through the door,
pressing his whole body against the wood. “Let me iiiiiin, you’re gonna want to
hear this! You’re so cute, you’re even cuter when you’re shy!”
 
“Lord Izumi is there, he can’t see me when I’m not properly dressed!” comes
Ruka’s hurried, muffled retort. “Go away!”
 
Izumi’s expression shifts to one that’s greatly amused. “Kings probably
regularly don’t plaster themselves against their little sister’s door and beg
to be let inside, you know.”
 
“Izumi,” Leo says tiredly, sliding down the door, “every time you tell me about
what’s normal for kings, I remember that you’ve only known one other, and he
was bad! You should have met my great-grandfather, that was definitely not what
you’d call normal. Ruuuuuukaaaaaaaa......it’s about your M-word!”
 
“No!”
 
“Now she’s never going to let you inside, O Not-Normal-Majesty,” Izumi mildly
says. “Would you like me to try?”
 
Leo waves his hands in utter defeat. “Do your best, but when she gets like
this...”
 
“Ruka, your brother is considering new marriage arrangements for you that might
involve me.”
 
There’s a long silence, and slowly, the door creeks open, a mix of worry and
hope written as clear as day across Ruka’s face. “R…really?”
 
“No,” Izumi apologetically says, stepping out of the way. “But there’s your
chance, Your Majesty.”
 
Leo sneaks in through the door in that split-second of hope, snaking his hands
over Ruka’s eyes. “Wahaha, guess who it is!”
 
“That’s a mean trick! You’re both so mean!” Ruka sniffs, wriggling away—or at
least, attempting to. Once Leo gloms on, he’s fairly difficult to dislodge.
“You can’t just say things like that, Lord Izumi!”
 
“Yes, it was very improper of me,” Izumi dismissively says, letting himself in
after Leo and dropping down to sit cross-legged in the nearest chair. “But you
wouldn’t hear your brother out otherwise, so here we are. Leo, please, she’s
not a child anymore.”
 
Leo drops his hands, but squeezes Ruka from behind, kissing her cheek. “I
promise, you don’t really want to marry Izumi,” he tells her earnestly. “But if
you want, you don’t have to marry Tsukasa either. I thought--wouldn’t it be
romantic if I held a tournament to celebrate my coronation, and the winner got
to marry you? It’s like in all the great love stories!”
 
Ruka huffs, smoothing down her dress as she looks down at the floor, not
entirely able to meet her brother’s—or Izumi’s—eyes. “I mean, that’s romantic,
but—but what if someone scary wins?” she hedges. “Or someone you don’t like? Or
that I don’t like? Lord Tsukasa is fine, in his own way, but…”
 
“Sorry, I’m still stuck on the fact that you think she doesn’t really want to
marry me. Who wouldn’t want to marry me?”
 
“Izumi, you have three children with three different women, at least,” Leo says
with a sigh. “If you think I’d let my precious little sister marry someone like
that, you’re an imbecile! Ahhh, if someone scary wins, I have a plan.” Leo
winks. “See, I’ll just put on a very cool hat and mustache--”
 
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to let him do that,” Izumi hastens to interrupt.
 
Ruka’s lower lip wobbles, her eyes tearing up now matter how much she tries to
fight down the reflexive reaction. “W-w-why can’t I just marry Lord Tsukasa?
He’s nice, he’s not scary, I don’t want someone scary to win—“
 
“He’s not good enough for you,” Leo growls. “You need someone nice and pure,
who loves you, not some arrogant little lordling that, uh, has a lot
of...plants to tend,” he finishes lamely, realizing he’d started the sentence
without figuring out how he was going to finish it.
 
“P…plants?”
 
“You’re making her far more upset than Kasa’s going to make her, you know.”
 
Leo scowls, glaring at Izumi as if this is his fault. “Do you think he’s good
enough for her?” he demands. “Do you think he’ll treat her the way she
deserves?”
 
Izumi sighs, spreading his hands. “I think, that as a princess with limited
options and needingto marry a good family, that he’s respectable, with a great
name, and with an excellent reputation. He certainly wouldn’t be abusive, if
that’s what you’re so worried about.”
 
“He’s always a gentleman,” Ruka sniffles, dabbling carefully at her eyes.
“Brother, why are you s-suddenly not wanting me to marry him?”
 
Leo huffs, then grabs Ruka in a hug, tucking her head into his chest. “You can
still marry him,” he grumbles. “It...it was coming up too soon for me. You know
I’m not exactly enthusiastic about letting you go!”
 
Immediately, Ruka throws her arms around Leo, squeezing him tightly around the
waist. “It’s not that soon,” she points out with another sniffle. “Broootherrr,
you’re so weird sometimes, doing stuff like this makes it seem like you’re
really anti-marriage!”
 
“It’s true,” Izumi chimes in. “She’s not allowed to get married, I’m not
allowed to get married, you’re not married…”
 
“Yep, I’m very anti-marriage,” Leo says with a cheerful sigh. “Maybe if Ruka-
tan married me, that would be the best.”
 
“That’s gross, brother.”
 
“I dunno, I still think you should let Arashi have a chance,” Izumi idly
suggests. “Don’t you think he’s handsome, princess?”
 
Ruka’s mouth flaps a couple of times, and she blushes before hiding her face
into Leo’s chest again. “T-that’s not important!”
 
“You have low standards,” Leo mutters, though the idea of Ruka winding up with
someone who will likely leave her virginity intact forever does have its own
appeal. “Hey, do you really want to marry that idiot rich boy? You can have him
if you want, but I really think he’s not good enough for you.”
 
Ruka hesitates, fiddling with the lacy ends of her sleeves, not entirely able
to meet her brother’s gaze. “Lord Tsukasa has always been nice to me,” she
softly says. “And he’s kind, and always a gentleman…”
 
“So he’s the best of the lot you’ve been offered,” Izumi dismisses with a sigh.
“Well, then, if you had your way, who would you marry?”
 
The noise that leaves Ruka’s throat is a nervous little squeaking sound, which
is all she offers up.
 
“Nnn, yeah, I want to hear this, too!”
 
Leo grabs Ruka by the shoulders, staring into her eyes, looking for truth.
“Your big brother would give you anything in the world,” he says seriously.
“And we don’t need money, and we don’t need an alliance. I just want you to be
happy and cared for. So, who would you marry? He might be king one day, if I
die childless, wahaha! And you can’t choose me!”
 
“You’re not going to die childless, Leo,” Izumi wearily reminds him. “Your
consort is pregnant.”
 
Ruka shakes a little, resembling a mouse as much as her brother often resembles
a squirrel. Strange, fluffy rodents, both of you, Izumi crossly thinks. “I…I
really can’t say.”
 
“It’s okay if it’s really me,” Leo whispers, though loud enough for Izumi to
hear. “Your awesome big brother won’t tell anyone.”
 
“It’s…it’s not you, brother…” Ruka stares up at him, her eyes enormous and
threatening to spill over again at any moment. “If I had to marry a man…it…it
would be Lord Izumi.”
 
“Ooh, I’m so surprised. I mean, thank you, princess, I’m flattered.”
 
“But I don’t want to! I—I’m—I—“ One solid blink, and the tears start up again.
“I’m in love with another girl!”
 
Izumi pauses, then snorts, rolling his eyes. “Everyone in this family is the
same, then.”
 
Leo beams. “That’s wonderful! Ahh, then no man ever gets to touch you, I’m so
happy! Izumi, isn’t that wonderful news?”
 
“Sure, if she was actually allowed to marry whatever girl she’s interested in.”
 
Leo’s face falls, but he perks up again soon. “No, this is better, because now
you can marry her, Izumi. Because you’ve both got other lovers, it’s good! The
thing I was most worried about is that her husband wouldn’t love her back, but
now I don’t have to worry about that. It’s perfect!”
 
Ruka lets out a distressed squeak, and Izumi straightens up where he sits.
“Leo,” he slowly begins, “you realize that if I marry her, that is the sort of
arrangement the entire realm has either wanted or tried to avoid for years,
depending on how much they like the North. It also means we would absolutely
have to have a child together.”
 
Leo opens his mouth, closes his mouth, then throws up his hands, striding from
the room. “I’m sick of this conversation,” he snaps. “Ruka, do whatever you
want, Izumi, stop her. I’m going to ride my horse.”
 
Izumi bites down on another sigh as he hurriedly climbs to his feet, following
after Leo when Ruka swiftly throws herself down onto her bed into a heap.
“Arranged marriages are meant to be simplistic, you know,” he starts with. “How
about let’s keep it that way—you reap the benefits of the Suou family’s money,
Ruka has a man that only occasionally fucks wizards…”
 
“I expect your letter to be very cutting,” Leo says moodily, shutting the door
gently behind him. “Make sure he at least thinks he’s going to be exiled. Not
so much that he tells his father, though, that’s a whole other issue. See, I
can think about politics.”
 
Resigned to the idea of letter writing at this point, Izumi just gives up and
nods, reaching out to ruffle Leo’s hair. “Cut the kid a little bit of slack.
He’s honestly terrified of you as much as he wants to be you.”
 
“Not scared enough not to betray my little sister before they’re even married,”
Leo grumbles. “Honestly, why can’t everyone just be honest? I don’t love women,
so I’m not going to marry one, and then no one gets hurt. Ruka should be able
to live with a pretty lady and hold each others’ hands forever, and she’ll die
a virgin, which is great.”
 
“…That’s very idealistic of you, and charming, in its own way, but knowing that
she likes ladies makes a lot of things about her make more sense now, so first
ofall—I doubt she’s a virgin.”
 
Leo snorts. “She doesn’t like men, Izumi! I doubt she’s taken one to her bed!”
 
Izumi stares at him, and lightly swats the back of Leo’s head. “Dumbass. Even
if she doesn’t like men, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want a lady to fuck
her.”
 
Leo doesn’t flinch with the blow, but blinks in confusion. “Can you
maybe...back up and say what you said, but again, and with words that are going
to work in my head?”
 
Izumi leans closer to him, put out. “You know how you like my fingers in you?
Girls, too, have fingers, and can put them in other girls. And that’s just if
they aren’t being creative.”
 
Leo’s eyelids close slowly, and then open wide. “Girls....do that? But--but if
they like something in them, doesn’t that mean they like men? You’re good at
explaining, explain that!”
 
“I’ve met plenty of women that want to put something in a man,” Izumi wryly
says. “And plenty of men that only like men that also don’t want something in
them. So with that in mind, I don’t think that kind of preference determines
whether someone likes men or women. I think people just do what feels good.”
 
“Oh.” Leo wrinkles his nose for a moment, then shrugs, expression clearing to a
beatific smile. “Girls are soft and gentle, so she’ll be safe with them,
though. Don’t...don’t you think?” His eyes are suddenly worried, and he links
his fingers through Izumi’s. “Like I’m safe with you?”
 
“I think,” Izumi says, squeezing Leo’s hand within his own, “that you need to
worry less about your little sister, when she clearly has figured out what she
wants and how to make it happen. But to answer your question—yes, girls are
soft and gentler than men, who are disgusting pigs at best. She’ll be fine.”
 
“So I have to...do something? Or leave her alone? I feel like I always do way
too much of one and not enough of the other,” Leo says with a sigh, wiping his
face with his free hand.
 
“Leave her be unless it turns into a bad situation.” Izumi pulls Leo’s hand to
his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Leo. She’s fine. With Tsukasa,
without him, she’s fine. Leave her be, let Kasa dangle for a bit, and call it a
day. We’ve got enough to worry about without stressing over your little sister
who is doing okay.”
 
“Yes,” Leo whispers, “but if I let this go, I have to think about sending two
of my dear friends into danger, and a thousand children I’m responsible for in
slavery.”
 
“Yes, well…” Izumi exhales, his shoulders heaving in a shrug. “Welcome to being
king. At least I’m here thinking about it with you.”
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Arashi of the Sharps sticks out his chest, gleaming with a shiny new chain,
conveying his new status. There’s a swagger in his step, though it fades as
soon as he gets out of eyeshot of the fancy, important nobles who had been
singing his praises.
 
Certainly at the time, it had sounded more than exciting to be chauffeured to
the Capital, to be honored by the King himself, and to be awarded a Lordship of
his own. In the moment, however, it mostly feels terrifying. All of these
people are far older than his fourteen years, and most are not shy about making
their feelings towards his new status known.
 
A relaxing ride--that’s what he needs. He ducks out of the festivities, pulse
pounding, heading for the stables. His horse, a gorgeous, golden creature
called Lightfall, doesn’t give her usual whicker and paw of the ground at his
presence, which makes Arashi frown. “Lightfall?” he calls, walking forward, his
instincts stinging him that he’s not alone. He reaches the stall, then peers
down, blinking at the sight of a young girl, curled up in the corner, rocking
herself back and forth, dark hair falling all around her. “Ah...are you a
stablehand?” he asks softly, trying not to spook the child.
 
The head full of long, dark hair jerks up, and in the dim light of the stall, a
single golden eye peers out from the messy drape of his bangs. The boy
trembles, clutching at his own ankles where he’s curled up, painted fingers
shaking before he retreats further underneath his hair, underneath the heavy
fall of his cloak, barely uttering a squeak in response.
 
Arashi’s breath catches at the sight of that single, golden eye that says magic
as clearly as if the girl had screamed it. He frowns, then jumps the door,
landing softly on booted feet. They’re a lot less wet than he’s used to, now
that one of the king’s clothiers had been instructed to outfit him properly, so
he could be presented properly in court. He hadn’t even realized how wet his
feet have always felt until proper leather seals out every puddle. If this is
how nobility walk all the time, no wonder they walk so tall, without any sores
or blisters.
 
He crouches down, but doesn’t reach out a hand, not yet, as if he’s approaching
a nervous baby animal. “Are you running away from someone?” he asks, not
entirely sure why, except that he sort of recognizes the posture from long ago.
 
Hesitantly, that head lifts again, recognition almost immediately dawns across
the boy’s face—along with anxiety, and no small amount of wariness. “I…” The
boy swallows, licking at his lips, shifting nervously. The fluffy fall of his
hair shifts when he trembles hard, revealing the stark, brilliant blue of his
other eye, shockingly mismatched and mostly unseeing. “I…I want to,” he
whispers, his voice soft, and heavily accented. “But I can’t.”
 
Arashi rocks back, suddenly doubting his first assessment of girl.
“You’re...from the Sandlands,” he says softly, in what he hopes is a gentle
tone. “If you escaped a master, I won’t turn you in, I...”
 
Memory stirs.
 
For the first time in long years, Arashi remembers the look of that little boy,
the one that had haunted his dreams half a lifetime ago, the skinny child in
gaudy silks with blood gushing from an empty socket, standing at the center of
the worst destruction that city had ever seen.
 
The boy’s lower lip trembles. “N…not a master, not th’ way you’re thinkin’, I…”
 
It’s not like I can ever really run away, not now, not from the Academy. He
shakes, grabbing at the long hems of his cloak to pull it more tightly around
himself. “J-jus’ ignore me, I ain’t gonna get in your way.”
 
Arashi refrains from saying that the child is already in the way, since he’s
nervous about his horse stepping on him, but bites that back. “Ah, I couldn’t
walk away when you look so sad. Do you need any help? Food? Tell big sister
what’s wrong, huh?”
 
Too late, he hears himself, and remembers that he’s supposed to be a nobleman
now, and that noblemen don’t get to let their guards down and say things like
that. “I, ah,” he says, clearing his throat, “mean...”
 
That mismatched gaze flickers up again, looking over Arashi from top to bottom.
Arashi definitely looks like a man, and a fancy noble one at that, but he’s
still not quite as scary as the ones he’s been having to deal with. “You’re a
noble, aren’t you?” he whispers, wriggling back into his corner a bit more. “I
can’t tell you nothin’ or you’ll get in trouble for even talkin’ to me.”
 
“I’m not a real noble,” Arashi says quietly, looking up at the space above the
stable door, hoping no one comes in looking for either of them. “I was a
carpenter’s son this morning. I’m Arashi, by the way. What’s your name?”
 
“…Mika.” The boy fiddles with his cloak again. “Y’don’t look like a carpenter’s
son,” he softly says. “But maybe that’s why you’re not as scary as everyone
else here.”
 
“I’m not scary,” Arashi assures him, and drops down to sit on the stable floor,
regardless of the filth. “Ah, but I bet my enemies wouldn’t think so--I’ll
definitely protect you from anyone bad, okay?”
 
Mika’s toes—also painted, and entirely bare, which he’s unconcerned about even
in the stall—wiggle slowly. “Y’can’t really protect me,” he says, not
accusatory, but very much like he’s stating a well-known fact. “Not from the
Academy. I’m…” He hesitates, glancing aside, towards the stall door as if
someone could come find him at any moment. “I’m hidin’ from my keeper. The
capital’s scary, the nobles here are mean, I…I don’t wanna do stuff for them.”
 
The Academy.
 
That changes things a little. Arashi reaches out for the first time, resting a
gentle hand on Mika’s head. “You look too small and cute to be a wizard,” he
says frankly. “Sorry, I just really love cute things, I have an instinct to
protect them.”
 
Mika squeaks, flinching back on instinct, though he can’t get far with the
walls behind him. He shakes, staring up wide-eyed through his bangs at Arashi,
a hesitant hand half-lifted to grab Arashi’s wrist before he rethinks, too
scared to touch. “Y…you think I’m cute?”
 
Arashi pulls back his hand guiltily. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m
not...I’m not trying to do anything? I just really thought you looked cute. And
sad, and I wanted to make you happy!”
 
Mika looks back at him nervously, but he doesn’t shrink back again. “…no one
tells me I’m cute,” he eventually says, glancing down. “Jus’ creepy. I mean,
that’s okay, too, but…mm…”
 
“Eh? What’s creepy about you?” Arashi shifts slightly forward, face concerned.
“I don’t think you’re creepy at all. You’re one of the cutest, ah, kids I’ve
ever met!”
 
Kids? Aren’t you a kid? Mika blinks back at him. “Everyone says I’m creepy,” he
says. “Not cute. It’s prolly ‘cause of my eyes. Maybe the ghosties, but mostly
my eyes. Um, it’s weird for someone as pretty as you t’tell me I’m cute.”
 
Twin spots of color appear on Arashi’s cheeks, and he looks away, hands clasped
in his lap. “Oh...you think I’m pretty? I think you’re very cute, I’d put you
in my pocket and squeeze you until your eyes popped out, you’re so cute. Now,
how do I protect you from your keeper?”
 
“Mm…you’re like, th’ prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” Mika honestly says.
“‘Specially this close.” He unfolds himself a bit more, starting to relax in
spite of himself when Arashi does normal human things that nobles usually don’t
do, like blush. “I wish y’could make my eyes pop out and go away. Mmn, y’can’t
keep me safe from my keeper, but I wish y’could. I…I wanted to run away, but
they’ll find me, and if they don’t, they’ll send someone who can, and that’s
the scariest.”
 
That sends a shiver down Arashi’s spine. The dread, the certainty with which
Mika says it makes him grimace. “Hey, but if you’re at the Academy, I’m going
to be around the Capital a lot, it looks like, so maybe I can keep you safe
when I’m around? I promise, no one will ever hurt you while I’m around.”
 
“You ain’t got no say in it, though.” Mika’s toes wiggle again. “The Academy
sold me to th’ capital. I mean…they don’t call it that, but that’s what they
did. I gotta stay here and do what they say. They want me to do a lot of bad
stuff, I don’t wanna.”
 
Arashi’s brow furrows, and he leans forward, head cocked. “They can
just...force you to do stuff? I thought wizards were really powerful, and you
could just...make people like that go away?”
 
Mika shakes his head slowly. “Uh uh. Not when the Emperor himself’s the one
that hates me.”
 
“I don’t know how anyone could hate you,” Arashi says honestly, and he can’t
help himself, and reaches out to pat Mika’s head again. “Well, if you’ve got to
go back no matter what...do you want to go for a ride first? Better than
sitting in a horse stall, eh?”
 
Mika trembles a little, but it’s less than before when Arashi touches him.
“…Is…is that okay? I don’t mind th’ stall, I’ve been in a lot worse places and
your horse is pretty.”
 
Again, Arashi flashes back to that fateful day seven years ago, and he’s more
certain than ever that this sad young wizard is that terrified little boy he’d
seen. “I think your eyes are really cute,” he blurts out, standing and
extending a hand. “Come ride with me, either in front or in back. Have you
ridden before?”
 
“…A little.” Mika worries at his lower lip with his teeth before he finally
reaches out, taking Arashi’s hand less in a way that helps him pull himself to
his feet, more in a way that involves actually twining their fingers together.
It’s been weeks since he’s seen his master, and even this little bit of
intimacy makes tears spring to his eyes, which he covers up by swiftly
blinking, and pulling his bangs back over his blue eye. “Everyone says my eyes
are weird,” he softly says. “Except my master. And now you.”
 
“I mean, what’s weird but different? And they’re definitely different, you
know?” Arashi smiles, then saddles his horse, swinging up and extending a hand
down. “We’ll be quick. I just, mm! Want you to smile a little, all right?”
 
Mika takes Arashi’s hand again, letting himself be pulled up behind him. The
horse shifts underneath him, and Mika clings to Arashi’s waist, burying his
face into his shoulder. “Warm,” he mutters. “And y’smell nice.”
 
Arashi’s heart thuds. Despite what Mika says, it’s he that feels warm, that he
smells good, and Arashi relaxes back into that sweet, comforting warmth. He
reaches down, unlatching the the door and nudging Lightfall out, hooves making
a suddenly different sound on the cobblestones. “You’ve got a cute accent,” he
offers, wanting to know if he’s right. “Have you been up here long?”
 
Mika’s hold tightens. Horses aren’t exactly his specialty, but Arashi is steady
(and as aforementioned, very warm and smells very good), so this isn’t so bad.
“T…thanks,” he murmurs self-consciously. “I’ve been outta the south for years.
My common tongue’s still kinda bad, though.”
 
“Either someone is telling you lies,” Arashi says, hands tightening on the
reins, “or you’re telling yourself lies. Your tongue...I mean, you speak the
language very well.”
 
“Nnn, but words are hard, I forget ‘em a lot,” Mika sighs, stuffing his face
into the trailing ends of Arashi’s hair at the back of his neck. “You’ve been
south before, haven’t you.”
 
“When I was little,” Arashi admits. “I spent a year fostering there, learning
to be a courier. They start training early for that kinda thing, where I’m
from. It was...interesting, for sure.”
 
“I thought so.” Mika slinks forward a bit more, hooking his chin over Arashi’s
shoulder. “Not a lot of people have an hourglass that looks like yours…nn, but
you were real little then, now y’look like a prince.”
 
Arashi turns his head, looking over his shoulder. “Hourglass?” he asks, pulse
pounding as he leans back against Mika’s warmth. “What does that mean? Is it a
wizard thing?”
 
“Kinda. It’s a me wizard thing, I see stuff weird.” Mika’s fingers lace
together as he squeezes Arashi’s waist, snuggling up against his back. Weeks
without human contact make him clingy, he knows, and Arashi doesn’t seem to
find it annoying, so… “Not important. Where are you from?”
 
Arashi tenses slightly when Mika squeezes him, but the fear that usually takes
him when someone touches him doesn’t manifest. Instead, he actually feels
himself relax. “Canveras, in the West. Mm, see those steep mountains over
there?” he asks, pointing. “Ah, it’s kinda hard to see now, but when it’s clear
you can see the tops. I grew up just on the other side of those.”
 
“Nnn, sounds cold,” Mika complains, rubbing his face against Arashi’s shoulder.
“Mountains are scary. Never been, don’t wanna. I’d fall off the side.”
 
“We don’t live on the peaks,” Arashi says, smiling. “They’re too steep. We live
all around the bases. And we put up very slanted roofs, so if anything falls
off the tops, it doesn’t cave the roofs in. The kids in my village, we’d make a
game of it, stick spikes into our worst boots and see who could make the
highest mark on the sides. I got up to a hundred meters, once. That was the
highest in our group.”
 
“Scary,” Mika repeats, but he snuggles against Arashi’s back more all the same.
“You’re real strong, aren’t you? Are you a knight? You look like y’could be a
knight.”
 
“You have to be a noble to be a knight,” Arashi scoffs. “Even if the king and
the nobles like me right now, I grew up in a house with a mud floor, you know?
I mean, I’m not poor now or anything,” he says hurriedly, nervous that Mika is
going to think he’s base, disgusting, and why had he said that, anyway? “And
all these clothes are new, don’t worry, it’s all clean.”
 
“I grew up in a brothel, everyone here’s fancier than me,” Mika dismissively
says. “Aren’t you gonna be a noble now, though? Then you can be a knight, or
somethin’ jus’ as cool. I mean, don’t tell anyone, but I met the prince for
like, five minutes th’ other day, and I think you’re prettier.”
 
Arashi’s cheeks flush, and he ducks his head. “Ahh, you think I’m pretty?
Really? I’ve never met anyone like you, you know. I’d...I’d rather someone like
you think I was pretty than that whole room full of nobles think I was
handsome,” he admits quietly, as if someone is going to overhear him. “Eh, I
know I shouldn’t say something like that, but you...you won’t tell, will you?”
 
“I don’t wanna talk to any of ‘em, so I ain’t gonna tell,” Mika cheerfully
says. “I think you’re handsome, too, but in a different way. Best of both
words, y’know? Ahh, sorry, I’m ramblin’, jus’, mm, nice pretty people usually
don’t talk t’me.”
 
“That’s a shame,” Arashi says bluntly. “You’re better to talk to than anyone I
met in the Capital, and anyone at home, too.” He laughs, a little embarrassed.
“Are you sure you’re a wizard, and not an angel?”
 
“Nnnh, don’t ask that, it’s embarrassin’!” Mika complains, stuffing his face
back down into Arashi’s hair. “I’m a creepy wizard, that’s why I got sold
t’th’capital. I don’t wanna be here. Take me west or, or wherever it is that
you wanna go.”
 
“All right!”
 
It’s probably a measurement of that madness he’s been accused of that Arashi
doesn’t even hesitate. He turns his horse, and grins, heading towards the
mountains. “My ceremony’s over anyway. I’m important now, I can take care of
you. I’m supposed to get a huge present from the king, I bet I could use it to
buy your freedom if they ever find us.”
 
“E…eh?” Mika blinks, clutching tighter to Arashi’s waist suddenly.
“Wait—really? Ah, I mean, n-no, you can’t,” he quickly backtracks, though the
way he clings to Arashi directly contradicts his protests. “We can’t, we’ll get
in trouble, y’could get killed—y’can’t buy my freedom or anythin’, I belong to
the Academy and I gotta do what they say.”
 
“Mm, but you asked me to,” Arashi says with a shrug. “I’m not scared of the
Academy, aren’t they just a bunch of scholars? I used to run messages for them,
they’re all pretty weak-looking.”
 
Mika shakes his head. “The wizards are th’ scary ones,” he softly says. “The
ones that track us down if we don’t behave. Even right now, I could get in
trouble. They don’t like it when we even touch regular humans, it’s real
stupid.”
 
“That’s crazy,” Arashi mutters. “You can’t even ride around with someone like
me? I’m not gonna hurt you. And I’m a noble now, the king said so.”
 
“They think wizards havin’ friends or any kinda relationship is bad. If it were
up to them, we’d never even get to take our clothes off, y’know? Which’s real
dumb, if it were up to me, I’d jus’ be naked all the time.”
 
Whatever else Arashi was about to say, it dies in his throat, and his hands
twitch nervously on the reins. The blunt words coming from that innocent-
looking face, behind those sweet eyes, make him feel kind of gross, with how
young this kid must be. “They’re awful if you’re not allowed to have friends.
Friends are important, right? I...I’ll be your friend. I’ll keep it a secret if
we have to.”
 
“We’re already bad at keepin’ it a secret,” Mika idly points out, but he
nuzzles his face into the back of Arashi’s neck all the same. “Mmm…why’d you
get promoted to be a noble? I bet it was a war thing, you look like you can
swing a sword real good. If you get an army, ask for wizards, I’ll come and be
your wizard. Then it’s like we’re runnin’ away without the scariest bits.”
 
“Oh.” Arashi considers for a moment, then nods slowly. “Yeah, it was a war
thing. I...do you want to hear about it, or is that too scary for a delicate
kid like you?”
 
“I’m not a kiiiid,” Mika huffs, his pout audible. “You can tell me, did people
die?”
 
“Yeah.”
 
The words comes out soft, and Arashi looks out over the road, across the
Sharps. “I talked my way in to squiring for Lord Korlet. He was the Lord I grew
up under, but it’s not like I knew him, I just kept asking and his fancy squire
was late to show up. The King sent us into Ingling territory--they’re the
creatures who live on the other side, they’re awful--and it was...bloody. Bad.
My whole squad got slaughtered by snogs, they’re these awful--they’re
poisonous, snake-dog kinda things, they’re huge and scary. Lord Korlet got shot
in the neck, then the eye. I almost lost my arm, but I endured it, and managed
to get the lines reformed.”
 
He breaks off, laughing at himself. “Sorry, too much war talk?”
 
“Mm, no.” Mika shakes his head from where his face is still pressed into
Arashi’s hair. “You’re awfully brave. But wrong about one thing. Snogs are
cute.”
 
“Eh? When did you see a snog?”
 
“In books about creatures ’n’ stuff. People draw ‘em and they look real cute. I
made a stuffed toy of one once, my master made it a dress.”
 
Arashi tries to imagine a snog in a dress. It doesn’t work out too well, and he
snorts. “That’s really weird, but adorable that you think like that. You don’t
want to meet one in real life, you know. They’re really scary, and super fast.”
 
“I’d jus’ blow it up if it was mean,” Mika dismissively says. “But I bet they’d
still be cute.” Against his better judgement, he keeps going. It’s a bad idea,
a really stupid, bad idea, but he’s been cooped up for too long, without Shu
for too long, and the longer he keeps inhaling how nice Arashi’s hair smells…
“Mm, and even if they aren’t, you’d still rescue me. I bet you’re reeeal
dashin’ when you’re actin’ like a soldier~…”
 
Arashi feels his face heat up, and he looks up towards the Sharps, slowly
fading in and out of view in the fog. “I’ll always rescue you,” he vows. “No
matter what. I’ll keep you safe, even if it costs my life. I almost died last
month, I’m not scared of dying anymore.”
 
Mika’s heart thumps fast and hard, and his thoughts start getting stupider.
“You’re not allowed to die, though,” he mumbles. “You’re too nice. And pretty.
Not allowed.”
 
“Everyone dies, though. I just...” Arashi smiles, an oddly contemplative, faded
expression. “I just want--can I tell you a secret?”
 
“If I was your wizard, I wouldn’t let y’die,” Mika murmurs. “Tell me stuff, I
ain’t gonna tell no one.”
 
“I believe you.” Arashi breathes in, then exhales slowly. “I just want to live
without lying first, just for a little while. I feel like everyone who knows me
just sees what they want to see, not who I really am.”
 
“Mmm…that’s no good.” Mika leans back, just a little, enough to look at and
contemplate the nice shape of Arashi’s back. “You gotta have someone you can be
honest with.”
 
“You should be my friend, then.” That sounds good, and Arashi nods to himself.
It’s easier when he can’t see the other boy. “One that I can always tell the
truth to. And you can do the same for me.”
 
“In the Sandlands,” Mika conversationally says, “we’d kiss, if we were
friends.”
 
In the West, we’d die if anyone saw that.
 
Arashi doesn’t say that, though, because he thinks Mika is hinting that they
could possibly...kiss? “I mean, I don’t want to say that we’re not friends,” he
says cheerfully, and turns in the saddle.
 
“There you are.”
 
The words sound exhausted and ragged, but imperious nonetheless. A tall man in
flowing, inky-black robes, with soft pink hair pinned up and back around his
face, stands in the middle of the road, with no sign of how he’d arrived. He
folds his arms over his chest, eyes locked on Mika, ignoring Arashi. “I won’t
reprimand you if you come back now.”
 
Mika squeaks, clinging harder to Arashi as if that’ll make it easier to hide
behind him more than he already is. “Master! What are you—um! I wasn’t goin’
anywhere! I jus’, um, I, I made a friend, it’s fine!” Even though it’s better
that you’re here, I was about to do something really stupid. His heart thumps
raggedly at the mere thought.
 
Shu waves a weary hand. “Come down from there, Mika. I don’t want to go back
either, don’t make this more difficult than it is. I’ll cleanse you before they
can pick up your new...friend’s signature on your aura. Were you going to leave
me all alone there? You know I’m not well enough for this kind of thing right
now!”
 
“I wasn’t gonna leave you! We just…he jus’ wanted to take me for a ride, I got
scared and was hidin’ with his horse!” Mika’s lower lip wobbles, and he shoves
his hands underneath Arashi’s shirt, all but trying to climb into it with him.
“He’s good, we didn’t do nothin’, I swear!”
 
“Hey, calm down,” Arashi says, suddenly alarmed, shifting to put himself
between Mika and the mysterious man. “Is this the guy that’s been telling you
what you can and can’t do?” The guy doesn’t look so scary, he thinks, and his
hand twitches towards the belt where he’s just recently started wearing a
sword.
 
Shu stares, unimpressed. “Who is this imbecile? Honestly, Mika, if you make me
waste any more energy on this today, I’ll blame you, you know.”
 
“Don’t threaten him,” Arashi warns, then flinches suddenly back as violet
flames burst into life around the man. His horse rears, and he instinctively
grabs for Mika, making sure he’s safe, before calming the stupid beast.
 
Mika clings hard to Arashi, trembling when the horse’s hooves hit the ground
again. His breath hiccups, and it takes effort to keep his own magic from
flying off of him in sparks, to the point that his head aches and his vision
blurs. “H-he’s my master, n-n-not any of the mean people from the Academy,” he
whispers. “I…I should go, I d-don’t wanna get you in trouble, I’m sorry, I’m
really sorry.”
 
“Shh, shh, you’re fine.” Arashi turns, petting Mika’s hair gently. “It’s fine--
I said I’d make sure no one hurts you, right? I hate seeing you scared, please
don’t cry.”
 
Shu moves closer, extending a hand, face grim. “You don’t want to get him in
trouble,” he says, not as harshly as he probably should. “You know how many
sensitives there are around here, not to mention the Watchers.”
 
Mika’s gaze nervously flicks around, as if just by looking for them, he can see
all the people that might be potentially spying on them. “I…I know,” he
mumbles, still shaking as he clings to Arashi for a moment longer before he
forces himself to loosen his hold, ducking out from underneath the touch to his
hair before he slides off of Arashi’s horse and back onto his feet. “It’s not
fair,” he quietly says, taking Shu’s hand. “’s not like what we were doin’ was
bad.”
 
“I know.” Shu leans over, pressing his lips to Mika’s hair--not a kiss, not to
his scalp, but just a fleeting brush, not enough to set off any Watcher. He’s
careful, now. He must be. His mind quivers still with just the thought of being
caught for a single infraction, no matter how minor. “I need you to get me back
to the Capital, I used all my energy to find you.”
 
Arashi looks unhappily between the two of them, then takes a deep breath. “I’m
going to get my own army,” he says quietly. “And then I’m going to request you
to help me. So be ready to leave soon, all right?”
 
Mika clings tightly to Shu’s hand, even as he turns his head to look back at
Arashi, a strange mix of wariness and intense need flickering in his mismatched
gaze. “Okay,” he finally, softly says, then drapes the deep red of his own
cloak around Shu, pulling him closer before they’re both gone without a trace.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Getting an Army sounds good, sounds easy, and sounds like the way Arashi wants
to achieve something with his life. However, it isn’t quite as easy as it
sounds, so for the past eight months, he’s lived in the Capital, running
messages between the Capital and the Academy, making contacts, building the
strength in his legs, and courting the best military minds around.
 
Of course, that leaves many of his evenings free. And by now, he knows the
Academy as well as anyone, and that makes it easy to sneak into the hallway
where Mika lives, hood up, cloak closed, knocking softly on the door with one
hand, other hand clutching a large leather satchel. “Mika?” he calls, very
softly. “It’s me.”
 
They may not get to meet often, between his duties and Mika’s lessons, but it’s
certainly often enough that Mika should recognize his voice.
 
The door opens almost immediately, with Mika’s wide-eyed stare and happily
flushed cheeks greeting Arashi. He only pokes his head out, still wary of
grabbing Arashi openly, but that doesn’t stop him from nearly vibrating in
place. “Kara,” he breathes, then hesitates, slinking back a bit from the door,
the rustling, crinkly sound of unfamiliar fabric following him. “Um—ah—you can
come in, but don’t be weirded out, okay? I was helpin’ Master fit some of his
dresses earlier and it was so cute I didn’t wanna take it off, so, uh…”
 
“Sure,” Arashi says easily, then blinks, startled, looking down at Mika and
his...dress?
 
He steps inside, shutting the door behind himself, looking Mika up and down.
“Oh,” he breathes, eyes alight. “You’re...so pretty, gods, what--why are
you...?”
 
Mika preens, smoothing down the heavy red silk and ruffles that make the dress
look fit for a princess. “I’m the only one here real close to the sizes Master
likes to make, so! I help him sometimes. Isn’t it pretty? He’s soo good, I wish
I could sew like Master does but I always mess up and stab myself and stuff,
heh.” He stretches up onto his tiptoes, peering up at Arashi. “You got taller
since I last saw you. Nn, now y’really look like a prince.”
 
Arashi raises his hand to his newly-short hair, grimacing. “I let some little
girl in the Capital play with my hair while I was delivering a letter for her
father, and she managed to take out a big chunk. I had it evened out, but...”
He shrugs, then looks back at the dress, feeling an odd thudding in his chest.
“Even if I grow it out again, I’ll never be as pretty as you, you look like a
pretty princess. Prettier than any of the ladies at court and twice as unique!”
 
Mika lifts a hand, unable to stop himself from touching Arashi’s hair. “Kara’s
so pretty, though, even with short hair…your hair’s so gold,” he says,
mystified. “‘Cause you’re out in th’ sun all the time, right? Ah, I bet you’d
get all tan in the south, you’d be…” Really sexy, he wants to say, but the
words stick to his tongue, and he fumbles for a moment. “Um, will you help me
out of this?” he manages instead, turning around and lifting his own hair out
of the way. “You gotta unlace it in the back. I don’t want Master to yell at
me, I’ve already worn it too long.”
 
Arashi reaches up, but hesitates, an idea occurring to him. “Have you worn this
out anywhere yet?”
 
“Eh?” Mika blinks, turning his head back to blink up at him. “No, no way. If I
wore somethin’ like this out and about in the Academy, I’d get in soo much
trouble.”
 
“Maybe not. If no one recognized you...” Arashi nibbles his bottom lip. “If I
put one on too, and no one saw who we were? We could go on a real date, you
know?”
 
“R…really?” Mika spins back around, his eyes wide. It’s a stupid idea, a bad
idea, but it’s an idea he desperately wants to see happen. “Ahh, you’d be so
pretty! Master made a blue one the other day—nnn, and he has hair extensions
and stuff for his dolls, I bet I could borrow them and he wouldn’t mind, then
you could have long hair again~…”
 
“Really? Ah, I’ve had so many compliments on the short hair, I was starting to
think that the long hair wasn’t as nice as what I thought,” Arashi frets,
reaching down and taking Mika’s hands in his. “I’m really scared that I’ll look
ugly, though, so I hope you have a good mirror, I brought my cosmetics...”
 
“You look good with long and short hair, but if you’re gonna dress like a girl,
it’s gotta be long,” Mika says, squeezing Arashi’s hands tightly. “You’ll be so
pretty—hold on, hold on, I’ll get the dress!”
 
He releases Arashi to scurry as quickly as his own dress will allow over to the
deep closet within the room, stuffed full of Shu’s various projects. After
rummaging for a bit, he pulls out a sapphire blue gown, dripping in heavy,
embroidered beading, lace, and long, fluttering sleeves. “It’s too big on me,
so I bet it’ll fit you perfectly. C’mon, strip, strip, I’ll help you into it,
Master’s got a floor length mirror over there so y’can see how you look.”
 
Arashi peels off his clothes, more grateful than ever that he’d cleaned
thoroughly before leaving the Capital and deliberately gone slowly to avoid
sweating too much. “Don’t be disappointed if I look bad,” he warns, laughing at
himself as he steps into the gorgeous thing. “I’ve always wanted to be able to
wear something like this, super cute and gorgeous, but I know where my appeal
lies, you know?”
 
“Master makes lots of dresses for men,” Mika dismissively says, pulling the
dress up and helping Arashi’s arms into the sleeves. “And you’re real pretty,
kara, so you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.”
 
So help him, he moves a bit more slowly than he normally would to appreciate
Arashi’s bare back for as long as he can, and it takes effort not to run a hand
down his spine. He licks his lips, trying to shove the distraction away, and
his fingers fumble with the lacings on the back of the corset. “Also,” he
casually says, “you’ve got a great ass.”
 
Arashi flushes bright pink, and buries his face in his hands. “M-Mika, you’re
making me all flustered! Why does your master make dresses for men, anyway?
Isn’t that a pretty unusual thing to do?”
 
“Nah. He likes men and he likes it when men look pretty. What’s the problem
with that? Here, breathe in—“ A swift yank on the laces, and Mika expertly
draws them up tight, and finishes tying them off. “His lover’s the ooonly one
that he didn’t put in dresses, but he’s real sexy, so I get that. Ahh, it fits
you so well, kara, look, look!”
 
Arashi has heard about this mythical lover of Mika’s master before, and can
only think that the guy must be awfully tolerant of nonsense, which is all he’s
ever seen from Mika’s crazy master. The laces steal his breath, and he grabs
the back of a chair, adjusting as he breathes shallowly. “Ah...if you’re sure,
I--”
 
He turns, catching sight of himself in the mirror. His brow furrows, and he
looks down at himself, smoothing his hands (they suddenly feel too big, too
rough, too clumsy) down the front of the skirts. “I definitely don’t look like
myself,” he says softly. If he were smaller, more shapely, if his cheekbones
were higher, eyes larger, chin more rounded, waist smaller, chest larger, hips
more curved...
 
“Y’look perfect,” Mika cheerfully says, circling around to help adjust the
dress a bit more, helping it lie correctly. “So pretty, like a princess now.
Ah, where’s your makeup, I’ll help. I’m not as good as Master is, but…”
 
Arashi pulls out his bag of pots and brushes, handing them over. “You’ve done
this before, right? On someone else?”
 
“Yeah. And on myself, when I was younger.”
 
Mika sits Arashi down and drags up a chair of his own, plopping down into it
before he leans in close, gently taking Arashi’s chin between his fingers. “If
we dressed up as girls all the time, maybe I really could run away,” he
wistfully says. “I hate it here.”
 
“I’m really close to having an army,” Arashi assures him. “It’s gonna happen.
I’m just making sure I have enough command that everyone listens to me when I
do. Then you can be with me all the time, right?”
 
“Mm. You gotta put in an application to snatch me up sooner rather than later,
though,” Mika softly says, lining Arashi’s eyes with a surprisingly steady
hand. “They’ll probably let you have me, ‘cause I can’t do nothin’ but blow
stuff up.”
 
“Really? I thought you could summon those--I mean, that’s what I heard,” Arashi
covers up hastily, “that you can summon these big old monsters.”
 
Mika pauses, but then he nods slowly. “Yeah, but…I can’t control ‘em, so I’m
not supposed to do that. No one at the Academy can do the stuff I can do, but
that’s not really a good thing. That’s why they’ll sell me off real cheap, I
think.”
 
“I hate hearing about you being sold,” Arashi says softly. “Like you’re a
bushel of wheat. This isn’t the Sandlands, people aren’t supposed to be for
sale.”
 
“I don’t mind it, if it means you’re the one I get sold off to,” Mika says with
a little shrug, finishing off Arashi’s eyes with a last flick of the brush. “I
mean…I dunno, I think it’s kinda romantic.” Too much, too much! His cheeks
flush, and his fingers shake a little, making him fumble with the makeup
brushes. “Sorry, that’s prolly weird…”
 
Arashi opens his mouth, then shuts it again. Then, very, very quietly, he asks,
“If I bought you...could I keep you safe?”
 
Mika hesitates, nibbling at his lower lip. “If you bought my wizard’s
contract…yeah. I’d have to do everything you said, go everywhere with you. I’d
be yours until you got sick of me, heh.”
 
“And what about...the rules?” Arashi licks his lips, looking up into Mika’s
glittering eyes. “About touching?”
 
“I…I think they still apply? Which seems dumb, if y’ask me, ‘cause if you’re
gonna buy someone, at least be able to do whatever y’want to them,” Mika
grumbles, nervously reaching over to fiddle with some of the ruffles on
Arashi’s dress. It’s unfortunate that he can still feel lean muscle even
through layers of silk, because that just makes him want to touch more, and he
exhales a breath through his nose. “I want you to do whatever you want to me.”
 
Arashi’s breath stutters, then stops in his chest. His hands move almost on his
own, coming to rest on Mika’s (too-narrow) hips. “I have a lot of ideas,” he
admits, eyes dark with the hunger he tries to keep inside. “Maybe we
could...find somewhere there aren’t any Watchers. If you’re mine. I’ll--I’ll
take you to the top of the Sharps with you on my back if I have to, it’d be
worth it.”
 
This just isn’t fair. People shouldn’t be forced to resist stuff like
this—especially people like him, who are pretty damn sure being naked is the
best way to be, and finally have attractive, nice-smelling people to touch (and
that want to touch him). The noise that escapes Mika’s throat is a whine. “I’m
gonna die if you stop touchin’ me,” he bemoans, dragging his hands back through
Arashi’s hair. “I want you so bad, you gotta…” Shu got caught, they didn’t kill
him, they just punished him, I can get punished, I get punished anyway, at
least it would be for something like this…
 
Arashi’s eyes flick to the doors, but they’re shut tightly. “Maybe,” he
whispers, stepping slightly closer, until they’re a hairsbreadth from touching,
“if we’re really quiet, no one will hear.”
 
“Kiss me.” Mika’s voice is low, but demanding. “Jus’—please? Kara, I’ll do
anythin’, I just…”
 
Arashi squeezes Mika’s hips. “You don’t have to do anything at all,” he
whispers, and closes his eyes, taking Mika’s lips for his own.
 
It feels so much better than any kiss he’s ever had, emotions crashing over
him. Mika’s lips are soft and supple, and his skin is trembling, making Arashi
draw him in closer as if he can share his warmth, his stability, the love that
burns in him and has for months.
 
As far as Mika’s concerned, it’s the first real kiss he’s ever had—and it makes
him cling to Arashi’s shoulders, the scrape of silk on silk loud in his ears as
he presses close, heart pounding. His breath hiccups and he surges up onto his
toes, kissing Arashi back eagerly, greedily, wanting more by the second.
 
Then the lock in the door turns, and Mika bolts backwards, tripping over his
own skirts in his hurry to separate them.
 
“Excellency,” comes the chiding, exasperated voice that follows as the door
cracks open, revealing a tousled, barely pin-backed head of red hair, and the
starched, pressed white robes of the Academy. The door clicks shut, and Mao,
the current Keeper on duty, takes in the scene—Mika, wide-eyed and trembling,
and Arashi, flushed and on edge. It’s Shu’s room, so the dresses are sort of
par for the course, and he doesn’t even bat an eye at that. “After seeing how
His Excellency Shu was punished, you should know better,” he says, his gaze
swiveling directly to Arashi. “And you—you have a responsibility to not indulge
him, no matter his lack of self-control.”
 
“Please don’t hurt ‘im,” Mika frantically interrupts, lurching forward to grab
at Mao’s arm. “Please, please—I promise, we won’t do it again, I…it was my
fault, I made him!”
 
“Sit down,” Mao sighs, patting Mika’s hand, but brushing him off all the same
as he remains fixated on Arashi. “You—give me your name and title.”
 
Arashi shifts, putting himself between Mika and the intruder, heart in his
throat. This could easily get him stripped of said title, but at the moment,
that doesn’t bother him nearly as much of the idea of Mika being ‘punished.’
“Lord Arashi,” he says, summoning all the confidence he can muster. “I’m
developing my estate now.”
 
He puts on a smile, going for charming, disarming. “Besides, nothing happened.
We’re just talking as friends. I’m looking for wizards to work in my war camp.”
 
Mika trembles, Mao sighs. “Get changed,” he orders Arashi. “And meet me in the
hallway. Excellency, please get changed as well, but I’d like for you to stay
in here.”
 
“…Please—“
 
“This isn’t up for negotiation.”
 
Mika’s fingers shake, twisting up into the long lace of his sleeves, and Mao
gives Arashi one last, curt nod before stepping back out of the room, the door
clicking shut behind him. “I’m sorry,” Mika whispers, the shaking in his hands
traveling to his voice. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry, this is my fault, I’m sorry.”
 
Arashi’s eyes widen, then sharpen, and he takes Mika protectively in his arms.
There’s a sick, tense feeling in his chest, and his mouth is dry. “Don’t
worry,” he says, faking cheer. “Help me with these laces, hmm? I’ll be back
before you know it.”
 
Mika sits for a moment, unable to even move courtesy of the anxiety that makes
every single part of him feel numb. It’s not fair! every part of his mind
screams, but that doesn’t matter, because nothing about the Academy is fair—it
never has been, as long as he’s been here. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again.
“He’s…I dunno what he’s gonna do, but you can’t lie to him, you can’t, he
already knows, that’s why he’s here…”
 
Mika doesn’t seem to be inclined to move, so Arashi yanks at the laces himself,
finally shucking the restrictive thing, letting it drape over the back of a
chair. He yanks on his breeches, shirt, vest, and coat, and buckles on his
sword belt, faking more confidence than he feels when his stomach lurches.
“I’ve got my sword,” he assures Mika. “And that guy doesn’t look so tough.
Don’t worry so much, yeah?”
 
“He’s Enhanced.” Mika swallows hard, trembling where he sits. “And one of the
hands of the Emperor. You…you gotta do what he says. Please don’t try to fight
him, please.”
 
“Not unless I don’t have a choice,” Arashi says, squeezing Mika’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry, seriously. I always pull off the impossible.”
 
He wants to give Mika’s cheek a kiss, but thinks better of it, and Mika would
probably be able to feel him trembling, anyway. He gives him a little nod
instead, hoping it looks more firm than it feels, and heads into the hallway.
His pulse settles, the way it does before battle, and his head clears. He looks
around, finding that redhead, and strides over, trying to put confidence in his
step. “Right, what now?” he asks briskly.
 
“You be grateful that I’m the one here, and not someone else.”
 
Mao’s lips purse, frustration furrowing his brow as he stares at Arashi, arms
crossed over his chest. “There isn’t another Keeper here that would let this
slide,” he lowly says. “And the only reason I’m allowing it is because of
Mika’s status within the Academy. Did he explain any part of our rules to you?
Obviously not, if you’re so willing to touch him without hesitation.”
 
Arashi’s brow furrows. “He said it wasn’t allowed,” he admits, though his
instincts tell him to lie. But the guy is already talking about letting this
slide, so how much trouble could he really be in? “And that there were people
who watched to make sure, but that’s about it. We were really quiet--honestly,
it was only a kiss, nothing even happened.”
 
“That child in there is one of the most dangerous wizards this world has ever
seen.” Mao’s voice is low as he steps closer. “Dangerous enough that he’s not
allowed to be granted a Nightcloak, courtesy of the privileges it brings.
Kissing him leads to sex, leads to his emotional investment in you—and keeping
him level, and calm, and not destroying this place from the ground up is what
we are trying to accomplish. Do you want to be responsible for the deaths of
hundreds of people if you upset him, Lord Arashi?”
 
Arashi stares at Mao, confused. “Wait, what? You’re the one upsetting him, he
was happy when I was in there.”
 
“No, he’s upset because he knows he broke the rules. And because, typically,
the lovers of wizards that break said rules are executed.”
 
Arashi steps back, eyes wide. “E-executed? Seriously? For having sex?”
 
“It’s the Emperor’s belief that sexual relationships have absolutely no benefit
to the wizards in his care,” Mao says, sounding rather like he’s reciting from
a rulebook. “Extensive studies have show that allowing those sorts of relations
offer no additional value to his subjects and only bring about emotional
instability that brings in additional expense to the Academy through
destruction or death. This obviously impedes their further education. Consider
this your one warning, because you’re young and were obviously not fully
informed about the consequences. If you let it happen again, I will be
reporting you directly to my superior.”
 
Arashi’s face darkens, and he only barely refrains from grabbing the guy by the
collar. “Are you seriously telling me that you’ll report him for a kiss? That
he’s never allowed to kiss anyone ever again? Come on, you’ve got to have a
sliding scale, here. Like a tap on the wrist for a kiss, I’ll pay a fine.”
 
“I’m not reporting him, not this time,” Mao flatly reminds him. “If you care
about him, then you’ll be kind and not put him in a situation where he tries to
pursue a relationship with you. The last person that tried such a thing was
publicly executed, in front of the wizard they were involved with. Do you want
him to see that?”
 
Arashi can’t help but think of Mika’s mismatched eyes, full of tears. “No,” he
grumbles, setting his arms to his sides, forcing himself not to draw his sword.
“How did you hear, anyway? We were really quiet.”
 
“Gods, he really told you nothing, didn’t he…” Mao heaves a sigh, shaking his
head. “Every single wizard here is monitored in shifts, with chains of magic
connecting their current Keeper to them. I can hear every single thing that
every single wizard is doing right now because of that. You two were very loud
in comparison to everyone else here.”
 
Arashi’s mouth goes dry. He purses his lips, then nods once, feeling incredibly
stupid. “If there is anything to happen from this, please let it fall on my
head, not his. I should have asked more questions, I’m very new in this area,
you see. He’s the first wizard I ever met, he probably didn’t know how ignorant
I am.”
 
“I’ve been monitoring the two of you for some time. That’s why I’m being so
lenient now.” Mao reaches out, placing a hand atop Arashi’s shoulder. “Nothing
is going to happen this time, but consider it as stern a warning as you’ll ever
hear. He’s a very delicate creature. His master recently ran into similar
trouble; please don’t make him suffer through the same.”
 
“Is that the one who was executed?” Arashi asks, voice hushed. “How, um, far is
it, before it sets something off? Can I touch his hair or something? Or is
it...” Doomed before we even begin?
 
“Yes, that’s the one who was executed—and Mika’s master was severely punished
as well, for not providing details about his lover’s whereabouts,” Mao quietly
says, shaking his head. “Nothing sexual. Don’t kiss him. I wouldn’t recommend
hugging him, but if you must, that’s acceptable with proper restraint. My
recommendation to anyone is to keep their distance, but you seem like a very
touchy person anyway, so I can tell you’ll have trouble with that.”
 
Arashi drags a hand down his face, then nods. “All right. All right. Hey, out
of curiosity, how many of you are there? The Watchers?”
 
“Your stableboy could be a Watcher, which I hope answers your question.”
 
Arashi grunts, and nods again. “Fine. Thanks for the warning, I guess. Can I
just...go back in there and say goodbye?”
 
Mao’s eyebrows raise. “If you keep your hands to yourself, yes.”
 
Arashi raises his hands, trying not to look sarcastic. “Fine, fine.” He turns,
striding back to the room and opening the door, bringing that false cheer back
to his face. “Mika? See, I told you I’d be fine.”
 
Mika, now curled up on his bed, wrapped up in nothing but his cloak, jerks
upright, sniffling and wiping at his red, watery eyes. “Y..you…” He hiccups,
hardly believing it. “They aren’t gonna do anythin’ t’you?”
 
“Told you,” Arashi says, beaming from ear to ear, even as his heart twists. He
wants to run to Mika, take him in his arms, and comfort him until he stops
shaking, but...
 
He swings the chair around, sitting backwards on it. “Just a warning, because
I’m so cute. And he was nice enough to explain some stuff for me, heh. All
good, like I promised.”
 
Mika sniffs, staring back at him, hardly believing it. It’s hard to, after he’d
seen what had happened with Shu, with Rei—how Rei had to flee, how Shu had been
tortured for weeks, months, for no good reason at all…
 
His fingers twist up into his cloak, and he huddles back into it. “It…it was
stupid of me, to even talk about that kind of stuff,” he whispers, unable to
meet Arashi’s eyes. “I’m really sorry. I won’t do that kinda thing again. If
somethin’ happened t’you…I…I’d die, I’d jus’ die.”
 
“It’s fine.” Arashi keeps the friendly smile on his face, scooting the chair
closer. “I’m only not touching you to keep you safe, all right? Not because I
don’t want to. So, hey, we got a free kiss, isn’t that nice?”
 
He swallows down the lump in his throat, telling him that something is ending.
“And we’ll still dress up and go on dates, yeah? Just...with a different ending
than I thought, heh.”
 
“I wish I wasn’t a wizard.” It’s not something that Mika voices often—or ever,
really—but this is Arashi. He has to. The words won’t stop. “I wish…I wish I
was still in th’ Sandlands, still in a brothel, then you could buy me for real
and I c-could be yours.”
 
“If we’re wishing,” Arashi says wistfully, “I wish I were a lady, and you my
lord. Or vice versa.”
 
“Both are good.” Mika sniffles again, forcing himself to lift his head and
actually look at Arashi. “You’re…you’re still gonna try to get me as your
wizard, right?”
 
“Of course.” Arashi’s heart aches at that look on Mika’s face. “Even if I can
never touch you again, you’ll always be my precious friend.”
 
“You can still pet my head. My master does that, we don’t get in trouble.”
 
Arashi shifts closer, and runs a hand through Mika’s wild hair as far as his
fingers can get, tousling it gently. “See? As long as I can do that, it’s fine,
isn’t it?”
 
Mika sniffs, but he nods, butting his head up against Arashi’s hand, too afraid
to reach out and touch him himself now. “Y-yeah. Yeah, that’s…that’s fine.”
Tears prick into his eyes again, and he squeezes them shut, trying to stop
himself from crying more. “Sorry,” he huffs again. “Sorry, I jus’…I thought
about you leavin’. I miss y’so much when you aren’t here, it hurts…”
 
“Well, I’m not going to stop coming around,” Arashi assures him. “Just gives me
more incentive to get my army, so at least we can talk and stuff. Right? Hey,
just so you know, that’s what I like most about you. Not the kissing and
whatever, I can live without that.”
 
Mika forces himself to nod, even though he doesn’t completely agree. “I’d kiss
you all day if I could,” he mumbles. “Hurry up and get your army. I’m gonna be
real upset if you take too long, okay?”
 
“Got it.” Arashi hesitates, then presses a kiss to his hand, and presses it
gently to Mika’s cheek. “Then I’ve got a lot of work to do. I’ll see you soon,
all right?”
 
Mika nods again. He finally reaches up, grabbing for Arashi’s wrist to hold his
hand close for a moment, butting his head against that touch before he releases
him with a hot exhale of breath. “Okay,” he softly says. “Be safe, kara.”
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
More or less living on the battlefield is a lifestyle that Mika doesn’t mind,
but days like this set his nerves entirely on edge.
 
He’s watched quietly as the steady, sturdy hourglass that only he can see upon
Arashi’s chest has slowed before, but this is different. This is a radical
shift, less about how that sand trickles, more about how there’s so much less
of it, suddenly, as Arashi prepares to ride out into battle.
 
Up until now, if a wizard has been needed, it’s Shu that goes. It’s not his
preference, not something either of them want, but Shu won’t hear his own
offers to go, and Arashi has flat-out refused him. Now, though—this is
terrifying, this shakes him, and Mika grabs at the hem of Shu’s sleeve, tugging
on it frantically. “Let me go today,” he whispers, slipping into sand tongue so
only Shu can understand him. “Please? I’ve got to, he won’t let me if I ask
him, but if I just show up, he can’t say no…”
 
“Absolutely not,” Shu says flatly. He speaks his own tongue, but does so very
quietly, so as not to attract attention, and because his own Sandtongue is
embarrassing, at best. “You’re too irregular in battle conditions. You’re as
likely to hurt yourself as your enemies. Don’t worry, I’ll protect him.”
 
It isn’t as if he approves of Mika’s choice of partners, especially since he’s
living proof that choosing any partner is a stupid, irresponsible choice, but
at least Mika has chosen one that doesn’t expect anything the boy isn’t able to
provide.
 
“I have to go!” Trying not to become shrill over this is almost impossible, and
hot, panicked tears prick into Mika’s eyes. “The fact I’m unpredictable is the
point—if I don’t go, he might die, I can see it!”
 
Shu pauses, then puts an arm around Mika’s shoulders, squeezing him once before
releasing him quickly. “Law says only one of us on the field,” he warns. “I
can’t come with you. But I suppose if you don’t want to be smart and let me
take care of this, I won’t stop you.”
 
Mika’s expression immediately dissolves into one of relief, and he sniffs,
nodding quickly and grabbing Shu once more for a tight hug. “T-thank you,” he
whispers. “I can do it, I swear.” I have to.
 
His heart jumps into his throat when he leaves their shared tent, however, and
he huddles down into his cloak. He already receives a handful of strange looks
when he’s the one that climbs up onto Shu’s horse, but he ignores them, even
when his hands tremble as he grabs tight to the reins. Riding out to catch up
to Arashi makes this that much more real, and setting eyes on that hourglass
again—still dripping away sand far too fast—makes him sick. Just me coming
wasn’t enough to change it, damn it.“Hi,” Mika nervously greets, forcing a
smile. “You get me today.”
 
Arashi brightens, and leans close, ruffling Mika’s hair. It hasn’t gotten them
in trouble yet, so he’ll keep doing it as long as he can. “Yay, I’ve got a Mika
at my side! Just stick close to me, all right? And--Shu taught you how to find
a Berserker, right?”
 
“Mm.” Mika tries not to shake, or grab at Arashi’s hand and hold onto it
desperately. “Yeah, he taught me. Um, it should be even easier for me,
actually, ‘cause I see things in different ways…” He hesitates, then pushes his
hair out of the way of his blue eye, no matter how much it hurts to look at
Arashi directly right now. “Can I ask you t’do somethin’ for me, though?”
 
“As long as it keeps you safe,” Arashi says cheerfully, nodding to his
sergeant, moving the company out through the narrow, twisting roads. “Ahhh, I
love riding with you, it reminds me of the first time we met for real...”
 
“If there’s a Berserker, don’t run at it headlong like y’always talk about
doin’. Let someone else take it out.”
 
Mika glances down at his hands, twisting the reins up into his hands. “It’s
jus’ a feeling I have.”
 
Arashi’s smile is only the tiniest bit patronizing. “But I’m the only one who’s
good at taking them out like that,” he explains, giving Mika’s plodding horse a
slap on the ass. “I promise I’ll let the archers do their job first, but I’m
not going to cost my men’s lives.”
 
Mika’s lips purse. “I’ll kill it myself then, if the archers don’t take it
out.”
 
Arashi’s carefully plucked eyebrows shoot up. “Can you do that? Ahh, that would
be wonderful! I’ll let you try, for sure.”
 
I’m way better at killing shit than Shu is, and way more unfazed by it, Mika
wants to say, but it’s probably not good for Arashi to know. “Yeah. I’ll try.”
He spares a glance at Arashi’s chest, and if he’s not going crazy, he’s pretty
sure the hourglass slows down a tick. That sends a flutter of relief down his
spine. “Maybe there will be a snog, too.”
 
“My men have standing orders to stop you from petting snogs, Mika.”
 
Mika immediately pouts. “But they’re so cute! And they only bite a little, I
bet it would be fine to pet one, just once.”
 
Arashi rolls his eyes, nudging his new mare forward. “I’m gonna ask you to
apologize to Lightfall’s ghost,” he says, mouth crooked. “Think about your
horse, if not yourself. Those things are so nasty. Cute from afar, maybe, but
if you get close, I’m never letting you on a battlefield again.”
 
“Nnnn, fine, fine, I’ll jus’ make another stuffed one,” Mika grumbles, kicking
his own horse forward to keep up. “Y’should kill a snog and let me pet it that
way sometime. I gotta examine it for accuracy.”
 
“You know that all the snog corpses are either sent back to the Academy for
study or hurled off the cliffs,” Arashi says with a sigh. They crest the hill,
and Arashi firms his expression.
 
This is going to be a bad one.
 
He can feel it in his bones at the first sight at the way the Inglings surge
forward, bending and sometimes buckling Arashi’s ranks. Arashi grabs his helmet
and unsheathes his sword, raising it into the sky, jerking his head forward
towards Mika. “If you want to stay by my side, keep up,” he warns, eyes
glittering. “And find that berserker before it changes, or they’re all going to
die.”
 
Mika’s heart thuds, and he spares a brief glance towards Arashi’s chest again.
The hourglass might be slowed, but it’s still not normal, and he chews at his
lower lip, steeling himself with a quick breath. “Got it,” he murmurs, raking
his bangs out of his face again when a gust of wind tries to whip them forward
over his eyes again. “I’ll be fast.”
 
The ranks of Inglings are far thicker than even some of Arashi’s stories would
belie. It hurts his eyes to scan the masses of them, but Mika forces himself to
look through them, spurring his horse forward to stay at Arashi’s side. Every
single Ingling starts to blend together, but then—
 
There.
 
He flinches, blinking hard when his vision spins. Shu had warned him; it’s one
of the main reasons why he never goes to the battlefield, overprotectiveness
aside. This creature is strange, from the simmering energy inside of it, to the
horrific way that its own hourglass—one that only he can see, as always—seems
relentlessly slow and strong. “Ow,” he manages, shielding his eyes briefly.
“There’s one—ah—two, they’re travelin’ together, left flank. I can mark them,
jus’, ah, let me know when.”
 
“Archers!” Arashi bellows, riding up to the first line of archers. “Ready for
berserkers!”
 
He starts tingling, skin tight, muscles engaged. Every part of his body wants
to charge in, to fight, to let his new mare Ladyfoot prove her mettle, to slash
and hack until the berserker is on the ground. He can do it. He knows. He can
break the Ingling charge, this is a good day for a test of his quality. “Now,
Mika!”
 
Maybe they’ll miss. Maybe Mika won’t be able to bring one down, and they’ll
need me.
 
He probably shouldn’t be hoping for that.
 
Marking them is easy. Pinpoint tracking magic, that’s all it takes, a glowing
mote that slaps painlessly into the side of each berserker—anything else alerts
them too much to being targeted, Shu’s warned him about that, too. Some horses
in the mixture of the field are unused to magic—which is so frustrating when
they bolt into the lines of archers, and just as many arrows hit their mark as
don’t, felling only one of the berserkers-to-be.
 
The other, now, is too aware.
 
The hourglass on Arashi’s chest doesn’t flip—it’s faster again, and Mika’s
heart leaps into his throat, bringing him to spur his horse forward. “I’m
going, call everyone back,” he insistently says, pulling up along Arashi for
only a second. “Trust me, I—it’s a feeling I have, this one’s different!” It’s
not like he can tell Arashi you’re going to die if you go.
 
“You’ve got ten seconds,” Arashi calls, sword unsheathed, hand strong and sure
on the hilt. “People start dying in fifteen!”
 
Ladyfoot dances in place, the cursed creature, and Arashi grits his teeth,
trying to control her with his legs. Just then, he feels the slightest bit of
give in his saddle, as if the girth is stretching, then--
 
The girth snaps, saddle suddenly pitching to the side. Arashi leaps free of
Ladyfoot as the saddle hits the ground, and he rolls, feeling the impact all
along his side. Through slitted eyes, he sees the berserker roar, then swell to
many times his original size, feet shaking the ground as Arashi struggles to
his feet. “Take him down!” he shouts, suddenly feeling far too short, far too
battered, a trickle of blood dripping into his left eye.
 
Mika doesn’t think, he just moves.
 
Shu has told him too many terrifying stories of the battlefield, when he
returns, shaking, muddy and miserable. In a way, Mika, no matter how scary it
all sounds, wishes he had been able to be here all along—isn’t it far better if
he’s the one risking his life for Arashi? It’s far more romantic, isn’t it, and
if he dies, somehow, then—at least it’s for something I want for a change.
 
“Move!” The snarl from a normally quiet, retreating wizard spooks soldiers when
combined with thundering hooves, and soon to follow, sparking magic. The
barrier that swiftly erupts at his command is enough to separate berserker and
Mika from army, but most importantly, berserker from Arashi, with only a pair
of soldiers trapped within it as well.
 
There’s nothing to be done about that. One of them is dead already, his neck
broken with the swipe of the berserker’s enormous hand as Mika yanks his horse
to a stop, and the second—well, this is probably a kinder death than by a
berserker’s hand, and if the casualty is only two, that’s better than the
dozens Arashi has quietly told him about before.
 
He draws a breath in, and his vision goes monochrome. The barrier sparks,
almost as if it’s off-shooting little flutters of flame underneath the sudden
strain of the power it has to contain, and Mika’s horse collapses out from
underneath him, breathing its last breath. The other soldier drops as well,
touched by a creature grey and wisping, its long, bony fingers barely ghosting
his cheek, and the berserker roars, a terrible, earth-shaking sound before it
crumples, the force of its weight hitting the ground nearly toppling Mika back
onto his dead horse. Dead, it’s dead, they’re all dead, but it’s fine, Arashi
can’t be.
 
The dust takes a horribly long, agonizing time to settle. Arashi looks this way
and that, frantically scanning the horizon for anyone he recognizes.Not Mika,
not Mika, not Mika, don’t let me find him,his voice repeats over and over,
grabbing each corpse he finds, turning it over to see the face. Every body he
finds isn’t Mika, something that makes his heart pound each time, until the
dust finally settles, and he looks around, tearing off his helm. “Mika?” he
yells, voice hoarse with dust and panic, seeing the berserker shrinking into
the figure of a regular-sized Ingling yet again.
 
The barrier sizzles, sparks again before finally flickering out of existence,
and the last wisping, fluttering specter brushes a hand through his hair before
disappearing. Mika slowly hauls himself to his feet, rocking back onto his
heels, and he turns, his eyes finally refocusing, the world sliding back to
color again. “Kara,” he calls back, trying not to sway where he stands. “I’m
here!” Come closer, let me make sure you’re fine.
 
At that voice, Arashi turns, then runs.
 
He’d been four years old when he first understood that running for him isn’t
like running for other people. When he runs, the world slips away, the horizon
sliding up to him almost as fast as it does when he rides his horse. He leaps
over a corpse, landing at Mika’s side in a heartbeat. He falls to his knees,
running his hands over Mika’s legs, his arms, his hips, his waist, tears
streaming down his dusty, bloody face. “Thank the gods,” he whispers. “You’re
safe, thank all the gods.”
 
The hourglass is there, unbroken, unscathed, flipped over and dripping that
sand slowly, normally. Mika crumples then, throwing his arms around Arashi’s
neck, clinging to him, burying his face right into his shoulder. “Told you I
wouldn’t let anyone hurt you,” he breathes. “You’re mine no matter what, okay?”
 
Arashi nods, feeling shattered, but held together, like a glass pane that’s
been cracked, but not pushed. “I thought I lost you,” he whispers, and squeezes
harder than he probably should. “Now stay close behind me, all right? I’ve got
to lead my men. You did brilliantly, I’m so proud of you, I--”
 
I’m never not going to be in love with you.
 
The thought is crystal-clear and cold in Arashi’s mind, and all he can do is
smile sadly. It had been a nice thought, that he could someday move on, that he
could find someone else, give his heart away, even if he could never marry that
other man.
 
Shaking his head at himself, he stands, raising his sword into the air. “Re-
form the line!” he bellows, running forward. “Squad leaders, form up! Spearmen,
to the front! Archers, fall back, infantry, support the spearmen!”
 
Mika sways, barely able to even see for a moment before he stumbles after
Arashi, staying as close as he can when Arashi is so fast. But it’s fine, it’s
fine, Arashi is safe, I can keep him safe, I can do this.
 
Time on the battlefield passes slowly, and adrenaline keeps Mika from
collapsing until the very, very end. His legs feel as if they’re about to melt
out from underneath him, and he finally has to give up, grabbing at Arashi’s
back, trembling from overstimulation, from the overuse of magic. “Kara,” he
breathes, “you gotta carry me back, be my prince already.” 
 
Arashi’s blood still sings from the combat, but he ducks his head, ensuring
that the battle is truly won as he sweeps Mika off his feet into a princess-
style carry. “Your prince is here,” he assures his lovely wizard, clutching him
close to his chest. “You did so well. I’m pouring very expensive wine tonight,
hmm?”
 
Mika flops his arms right around Arashi’s neck, stuffing his face back into it.
“Pour me wine and pet my hair,” he sighs, wiping at some of the blood on
Arashi’s face with the edge of his sleeve. “And lemme patch you up and
everything, that’s what your lover would do.”
 
Arashi nods, head sagging a little as he makes his way back to camp. “Need to
find a new horse,” he grunts. “And I guess a new saddle, that one was obviously
no good. I’ll send someone to do that, though, I don’t think anyone would
begrudge me some time with you. Was that your ghosts? I could hardly see...”
 
“Mmn, yeah. I tried to trap ‘em as much as possible, but I can’t cut ‘em off
completely…” Mika’s eyes lid, his head flopping to rest against Arashi’s
shoulder. “I don’t care, though. As long as you’re safe, nothin’ matters.”
 
“My men’s lives matter,” Arashi reminds Mika with a little squeeze. Mika is a
good person, but sometimes he has to be reminded of it. “And you saved a lot of
them today. Gods, I thought we’d lost, today. And two berserkers on top of
that...that could have been a massacre.”
 
“Nope,” Mika proudly says, kicking his feet slowly. “No massacres. Nnh, I told
you, I’m good at killin’ stuff, I jus’ gotta be monitored. And I get tired,
like right now, I can’t feel my toes or fingers.”
 
“Eh? Is that normal?” Arashi asks, nervous as he picks their way through the
field, until they get past all of the corpses. His arms, fortunately, don’t
feel tired at all, even after the stress of battle. “I didn’t even get to kill
anyone this time, but there are still so many corpses. Guess I’m obsolete when
you’re around, huh?”
 
“I haven’t used this much magic in a loooong time…I think it’s normal. I feel
normal, just kinda…wiggly.” Mika sighs, letting his head fall back. “If we were
lovers,” he wistfully says, “we could like, have victory sex. That’d be fun.”
 
“Don’t say that when I’m worked up after battle,” Arashi groans, pace
quickening. “I’m already hard as hell, you’re not helping.”
 
“Sorry,” Mika says, not sounding apologetic in the least when he’s still riding
the high of Arashi not being dead. “That’s sexy, though. You’re so strong, I
bet y’could break me in half.”
 
“Eh? I’d never hurt you!”
 
“Noo, I mean in a sexy way! I want you to toss me on th’ ground and ravish me!”
 
“Stop iiiiit,” Arashi whines, picking up the pace again, outpacing the rest of
his weary army. “You’re gonna make me misbehave and die. And I’ll die so happy.
Sounds kinda sexy, dying for making love.”
 
Mika squirms a bit, tugging on the ends of Arashi’s hair that he can get his
hands on. “We could hide in your tent for a little while,” he sweetly wheedles.
“And I’ll patch you up, and y’can tell me allll about what you’d do to me if
y’could. Ain’t nothin’ bad about that, you’re not touchin’ meee…”
 
“You know,” Arashi says, hushed and quiet, saying stupid things because he’s
hot, he’s tired, and he’s feeling desperate, “it wouldn’t break the rules if I
sort of...took care of myself, and you did the same. We could watch.”
 
The thought is a very enticing one. Mika licks his lips, considering, and then
quickly says, “Tie one of my hands to a tent stake or somethin, and I’m in. I
ain’t got no self-control and I really wanna touch you.”
 
“Oh gods. Deal.”
 
Arashi gives up on walking, and just dashes towards his tent, tossing Mika down
onto his pretty, one-of-a-kind coverlets. "You can take a look at my hurts if
you like, but I doubt I’ll deed a real healing. It’s mostly just scratches and
bruises under all the dirt and sweat.”
 
“Yeah, I gotta take a look at your hurts, that’s what I’m doin’,” Mika mutters,
lurching up off the coverlet to grab at Arashi’s blood-stained shirt, all but
yanking the laces open. If he keeps saying it’s to look Arashi’s injuries over,
anyone Listening can’t do anything, right? Right. “I know y’don’t like it,” he
breathes, his eyes lidding, “but you’re so…so sexy when you’re all sweaty and
dirty like this.”
 
A shudder runs through Arashi, and he shucks his clothing, all of it, despite
how rarely he enjoys being fully nude when he’s not bathing. “I hate thinking
of myself as sweaty and dirty,” he allows, “but...mm, if you like it, who am I
to say otherwise, hmm?”
 
Mika licks his lips, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch everywhere.
It’s one thing to be claiming to examine Arashi’s injuries, another to
immediately grab for his dick, and so Mika forces himself to drop his hands,
ripping at the fastenings of his own robes instead. “You look so good when
you’ve come right off the battlefield,” he murmurs, shrugging the layers of
clothing off to reveal nothing but the mess of straps underneath, which he
unravels with a deft hand. Being Shu’s apprentice does make his life easier in
a number of ways.
 
Naked, finally, Mika collapses back onto the coverlet again with a grateful
sigh, and stretches out with an arch of his back. “Tie me up or I’m gonna be
bad,” he cheerfully says. “That’s how it is.”
 
“What do you think you’re doing?”
 
Shu’s voice is shrill and anxious as he whips aside the tent flap, tying it
back into place hurriedly. “Can I not leave you alone for even five minutes? Do
you want to get him killed, do you want to get both of you executed?”
 
“We weren’t doing anything,” Arashi growls, frustrated and grabbing at his
cloak. “Mind your own business, Excellency.”
 
“We weren’t doin’ nothin’,” Mika insistently growls, twisting onto his side and
snatching up his own cloak to huddle back up into it. “We were jus’ gonna talk
about stuff, no touchin’, that’s not breakin’ the rules, you said so!”
 
“And you know,” Shu hisses, “that even taking those off is enough to get you
sent to re-education if a Watcher sniffs you out, much less in the presence of
a naked person! And you,” he continues, rounding on Arashi, “I thought you
already had your warning. Are you going to throw away your life so easily? Do
you know what that would do to him? That’s selfish, not to mention stupid!”
 
Arashi glares, sitting heavily on his chair. The mood is gone, and he stares at
his feet, sullen. “I wouldn’t put him in danger,” he mutters, despite knowing
how hot his blood had been, how close he’d been to doing exactly that.
 
“You’re the one that taught me how t’take ‘em off,” Mika moodily says, grabbing
one of Arashi’s pillows and yanking it over his head. “I was gonna behave, kara
was gonna make sure I behaved, this isn’t fair, I jus’ wanted him to talk at me
so I could get off for the first time in years!”
 
“Prove it.”
 
Shu grabs a wooden stool, then sits on it, arms folded. “If that’s all, you can
do it, but I’m going to supervise.”
 
Mika pauses, lifting the pillow off of his head warily. His gaze flicks over to
Arashi, hesitant but still eager. He can’t help it, not when the chance is
right there in front of him. “Is…is that okay?” he asks. “If you’re not in the
mood now, I get it, but…”
 
Arashi gives him a crooked grin. “Bear with me if I’m a little shy,” he says
softly, “but I’ll do anything if it means I can look at you like this.”
 
He turns to look at Shu, and adds, “It would help if you didn’t glare quite so
much, Excellency.”
 
“I’m not glaring. This is my face.”
 
Arashi laughs, and shrugs, letting the cloak slide off of him, running his hand
down his chest, then his belly. “If you’re going to be here,” he murmurs,
though his eyes are only on Mika, “you might as well enjoy yourself.”
 
“That’s definitely jus’ his face,” Mika says distractedly, mouth parting as he
watches the path of Arashi’s hand. He squirms, tossing his own cloak aside
again, and makes one grabbing motion towards Arashi. “Gimme your shirt,” he
demands. “I’m gonna smell you one way or another.”
 
“There’s blood on it,” Arashi warns, but he tosses the shirt over anyway. The
idea of Mika smelling him... “You smelling that is hot,” he breathes, eyes
glinting as he wraps his hand around his cock, stroking it back to full
hardness. His pulse thuds, and despite his occasional modesty, he finds he
doesn’t care much at all if Shu is watching him as long as Mika is. “You have
such pretty hands, I bet they’d feel so good around me...”
 
Mika stuffs his face down into Arashi’s shirt, inhaling deeply. The blood
doesn’t bother him. It’s the smell of Arashi that matters, sweat and pheromones
and the scent of battle that makes his toes curl. His cock aches between his
legs, and he whimpers underneath his breath. “Y’jus’ want my hands on you?” he
breathes, his eyes fluttering. “I’d get on my knees and put my mouth on you
right now.”
 
A whimper escapes Arashi’s mouth, and he bites his lip, squeezing his cock,
thumb tracing around the tip. “That sounds incredible,” he breathes, letting
his thighs splay apart, shifting to better display himself in what he hopes is
a sexy pose. “You’d look so good like that, I bet that would feel, so good, I’d
love to be in your mouth...”
 
A soft gasp comes from Shu, who looks away suddenly, cheeks flushed pink.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “Don’t mind me.”
 
See, you can’t help it either, Mika smugly thinks. “I bet you’d taste as good
as you smell,” he sighs, dragging a hand down his chest, his fingers lingering
to pinch and slowly twist a nipple. He jumps with the touch, his breath
hiccuping. It’s easy to imagine that touch as Arashi’s—but his hands are
larger, his fingers more calloused in the best of ways, and the more Mika’s
mind focuses on that, the harder he gets. His lips part, his tongue wetting his
lower lip as his eyes drag up the length of Arashi’s cock. “It’s big…nnn, but I
can take it, I wanna taste you so bad…”
 
Hunger washes over Arashi in a sudden, fierce wave, and he grips himself tight,
starting to stroke faster. “I can imagine it. I can see you on your knees in
front of me, you know? I bet you’d look so pretty, with your mouth open,
stretched around it...then I’d, god, I want to be inside you, I want to put my
hands all over you.”
 
Mika groans, biting down into Arashi’s shirt when his hand abruptly drags down,
grabbing his own cock when he can’t help it. “You could jus’—ahh—t-toss me back
on your bed, I want you in me so bad.” Every muscle in his body tenses, his
legs trembling as his thumb drags up over the head of his cock. “I…I bet it
would feel even bigger inside me,” he whispers, his eyes fluttering. “Kara…I
want y’to fuck me, take care of me~…”
 
“I’d take such good care of you,” Arashi groans, stifling a louder sound into
his hand. His actual experience doesn’t matter now--Mika’s face is flushed, his
body trembling, and the look of that makes Arashi so much harder, aching and
straining against his fingers. “I’d make you come over and over, I’d--you’d be
so full, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t that feel good?”
 
Mika nods desperately, his chest heaving. “Y…you’d feel perfect,” he pants out,
and he can’t help himself, not anymore, not when the idea of Arashi’s cock in
him is quickly driving him mad. Mika drags a hand to his mouth, sucking on a
pair of fingers and leaving them slick before he reaches back, barely able to
even sink them inside of himself without trembling, twisting on the bed and
panting into that shirt that smells like nothing but Arashi as he aches from
the inside out. “You…ah…k-kara, I w-want you to come inside me, I wanna feel
you in me for days, g-gods, please…”
 
The sight of Mika’s fingers disappearing between his legs makes Arashi curse,
pitching forward as he comes over his hand with a soft cry. For once, he can’t
even be annoyed at the stupid way his voice spikes low when he hits his climax,
something that usually leaves him feeling embarrassed. All he can think about
is Mika, Mika, Mika, as hot liquid seeps out between his fingers, dripping to
the floor of the tent.
 
Arashi’s voice, low and throaty and broken with arousal, goes straight to
Mika’s cock. He shoves his face down into that shirt, working himself with his
fingers sinking as deep inside of himself as they can, his back arched with
every stroke. One, ragged, too-sharp inhale, and he’s lost, sobbing out a
breath, spilling into Arashi’s coverlet, milking himself even as his hand
shakes.
 
“Karaa…”Mika’s voice hiccups, and he shakily drags his other hand through the
mess, dazedly bringing it to his own lips to lick it clean. “Y’should’ve come
in somethin’ I could lick it up from,” he sighs. “That’s probably not against
the rules…”
 
“Gods,” Arashi says weakly, slumping back against the chair. “Mika...was that,
was it good? Was it what you wanted? Is it...enough?”
 
Won’t be enough until you can actually do me, Mika wants to say, but he bites
his tongue, stretching out with a long exhale. “Mmnn…yeah, but you gotta do
that more often now or I’ll die. See, Master, told you I’d behave.”
 
“Y-yes. Well done, I suppose, though it’s the least you should be able to do.”
Shu’s face is a bright, flaming pink, and he looks considerably flustered.
“Captain, get out, I need to tend to my apprentice.”
 
Arashi nearly snaps that this is his tent, but the last time he’d snapped at
Shu, he’d lost his tent to a gout of violet fire. So instead, he tugs on his
clothes, then moves over and presses a kiss to Mika’s head. “I need to do a
casualty report, anyway. Take good care of him, please.”
 
“I’ll be here when you come back,” Mika calls after him, watching Arashi leave
with a fluttery little sigh before he rolls facedown, burying his face happily
into Arashi’s shirt (which he’s probably never giving back). “He’s perfect,
sooo perfect, I’m gonna diiie…”
 
Shu closes his eyes, taking deep breaths to will down the turmoil in his
abdomen, the arousal that makes him choked up, every part of him tense. “This
isn’t the worst thing you could be doing,” he says softly, “but you need to
think carefully. If you keep going like this, he’ll never be able to leave
you.”
 
“Isn’t that th’ point of havin’ a lover?” Mika murmurs, scooting over to avoid
his own wet spot as he kicks his feet up behind him. “I never want him to
leave. He’s mine.”
 
“He isn’t your lover.” Shu’s words are harsh, but his tone is gentle, and he
bundles up Mika’s wet cloth, then brings over a blanket, tucking it around him.
“He’s your beloved. But he’s not a wizard. If you want him to be loyal to you
forever, you’re condemning him to a life without touch.”
 
Mika grumbles, thrashing a little underneath the blanket. “He’s gonna be my
lover,” he moodily says. “Eventually. When the Demon King comes back and fixes
things. It ain’t gonna be like this forever, it can’t be.”
 
“Don’t say his name,” Shu warns. He closes his eyes, and the rest of the
arousal is gone, washed away in a heartbeat next to the vastly more powerful
longing he feels whenever he thinks of his lord. “It might be twenty years,
though. Or fifty. You and I will still be young then, you know.”
 
“He won’t leave y’that long.” Mika has absolutely nothing to support those
words, but he believes it, all the same. He huddles up into the blanket, and
peers up at Shu through the messy fall of his bangs, nibbling anxiously on his
lower lip. “No one’s ever treated me like he has,” he finally, quietly says.
“Arashi, he…he’s special. That makes it worse. Barely bein’ able t’touch
someone, um, fuck, what’s the word…in a friend-way, that’s hard enough, but I’m
not like you, Master. I think about sex a lot,and Arashi’s real handsome, and
so kind to me, so I just…wish I could make him feel good.”
 
Shu sighs, tucking the blanket more firmly around Mika, then settling behind
him, cuddling him close through the thick fabric. “You think you’re the only
one to be unable to touch someone you love? Don’t assume I don’t want it just
as much as you, just because I talk about it less. At least you get to see him.
But I...” He starts to tremble. “Thinking about what happened to me--if it
happened to you--I couldn’t handle that.”
 
“It’s not gonna happen to me,” Mika mumbles, snuggling back against Shu. “If
all we’re doin’ is this for now…that’s okay, right? Nnnn, I know I’m not the
only one that can’t touch someone I love, but…” He huffs, then twists in Shu’s
arms to face him, butting his head into his chest. “Master. He’s gonna come
back for you. He’s gonna fix everything. He said so, didn’t he?”
 
“He said so.” Shu closes his eyes. The longing is so intense that it feels as
though it must be causing him physical damage for a moment, and he gasps,
feeling that bond resonate so strongly that tears sting his eyes. “Ah...he’s
thinking of me. Don’t mind me.”
 
“Y’should let me talk you off to get the edge off or somethin’,” Mika grumps
sympathetically, freeing a hand from his blanket prison to pet Shu’s hair. “Or
he could do it, all telepathically. You’re gonna go crazy.”
 
“Won’t help. Not right now. It’s not...” Shu turns his face, wiping his eyes.
“Where’s Milady? Milady, come to me.”
 
A tinkling glass figure rises from the corner of the tent, doing a pirouette
before settling near Shu. He relaxes marginally. “I’ll let you talk me off
later, all right? I’m just wound too tightly right now.” It isn’t as if they
haven’t done this a hundred times, though usually in the dead of night, in
their separated beds.
 
“Hi, Milady,” Mika softly greets, though his hand doesn’t still from petting
Shu’s hair. “Havin’ a bond sounds…really hard. I don’t think I want one, ever.”
 
“You’re absolutely sure that you don’t have one with the brute?” Shu presses.
“The way you’re so devoted to him, even when you know it’s a bad idea, I have
to wonder.”
 
“I don’t think so,” Mika hedges, twirling a strand of Shu’s hair around one
finger. “I think…I woulda felt it by now, don’t you? At least a little. I
dunno, I jus’ really like him. And the way he swings his sword, so I can see
all his back muscles, heh.”
 
“He’s a brute,” Shu says flatly. “Intelligent people don’t need to solve all of
their problems by swinging swords at them.” He pauses, then adds, “Don’t tell
him this, but it’s quite impressive, the way he’s managed to go from being a
common child to being a Lord in just a year.”
 
“I tell him that all th’ time, sorry,” Mika sheepishly says. “I gotta. I think
it’s real sexy that he works so hard. I think he’s real smart, jus’ not in the
same way as you, and that’s okay. I ain’t that smart so it works out.”
 
“Don’t be absurd. As if I’d choose an apprentice who wasn’t smart. Don’t insult
me, you failure.” Shu tucks his face into Mika’s hair, arms wrapped tight.
 
Mika lets out a pleased little sound and burrows closer, stuffing his face back
into Shu’s chest. “Nnn. Sorry. You’re the smartest person I know, though, so
it’s different.”
 
“That’s right. Don’t forget it.” Shu goes quiet for a moment, then says softly,
“I heard you took down a berserker today. How are your toes?”
 
“Tingly,” Mika cheerfully says. “Real weird. Ah, I tried the barrier trick, it
kinda worked. Only a couple of ghosties leaked out this time, maybe I’m gettin’
better at it…”
 
“That’s no reason to start using it more often,” Shu warns. “Not until you’re
absolutely certain. I don’t want to be scraping any part of you off of a
battlefield, tricks or no.”
 
“I’m not gonna die,” Mika grouses. “It’s not me that they wanna eat. Or
explode. Or gore. Hey, have you ever petted a snog? Are they slimy, or…”
 
“Snog?” Shu blinks. Then, his eyes track over to the misshapen stuffed toy Mika
had attempted to sew together a few days earlier, left within Arashi’s tent on
a whim. “Oh. The Academy would certainly prefer you to call them by their
proper names, serpecaniforms.”
 
“Not cute. Snog is much cuter. So? Have you petted one? Arashi won’t let me.”
 
“No, I don’t like animals.”
 
Mika’s eyebrows raise. “Uh huh. So that’s why you made all those dog
figurines.”
 
Shu sniffs. “Dogs are different. Well-behaved dogs can be trained and
accomplish tasks, which is more than I can say for useless apprentices.”
 
“Yeah, I’m useless,” Mika hums happily, butting his head firmly into Shu’s
chest. “But I still am gonna pet a snog one day.”
 
“Not if I have anything to say about it. And I do. My opinion is the one that
matters the most. Don’t forget it.”
 
“I won’t forget, Master.” Mika snuggles firmly up against him. “But I might
still pet a dead one, anyway.”
 
“Mika.” Shu’s voice is stern. “What did I tell you? At least mutter it so low I
can pretend not to hear you.”
 
“…But what if I like it when y’scold me?”
 
“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all day.”
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Somehow, the king expects miracles.
 
Arashi has heard that phrase muttered among soldiers before, but it had never
concerned him much. Now, though, with the king’s newest orders burning a hole
in his pocket, a sinking feeling in his stomach, he truly understands.
 
Before he can figure out how to go back to his men and explain what’s next, a
hand claps his shoulder in friendly familiarity, and he starts, looking wildly
around until he meets a pair of red, faintly-glowing eyes the likes of which
he’s never seen before.
 
“Hello,” the owner of the eyes says, sounding sleepy. “That looked rough in
there. Let me buy you a drink.”
 
And because almost anything sounds preferable to going back to his men right
now, Arashi agrees, not knowing what he’s getting himself into.
 
Five beers later, the world is spinning sloppily around him, and he pulls the
incriminating scroll out of his pocket, slamming it down on the table in front
of his new companion, and another young man that he’d dragged over at some
point. “You see, see this shit?” he demands, the words only slurred a little.
“Attack the main flank. In winter. With, with no requisitions filled, from
th’South. So that’s....that’s two weeks extra march. With no extra rations, an’
no more horses. Which’s...bad. We’re gon’ have to eat ‘em soon. Th’ horses, I
mean.”
 
“Surely not,” the young stranger says, aghast. He’s clearly no more than
Arashi’s age, with fine fastenings on his lovely deep blue surcoat, and combed-
back red hair.
 
“It’s true,” his companion, who’d introduced himself as Sir Ritsu of his own
lands, agrees. “I heard it. The king says he’s not granting any more army
requisitions until there’s signs of progress.”
 
Arashi slams his tankard down on the thick plank of table, sending the other
cups jumping slightly. “Progress,” he snorts. “On a war tha’s been goin’ on
since...since my grandpa’s time. The damn creatures aren’t killin’ us all, isn’
that progress ‘nough?”
 
The youngest of the three hesitates, thumbing the side of his own tankard
distractedly. “I don’t know you,” he carefully begins, “but…I’ve heard word of
your feats. If…if you’re willing to speak of your needs and implore to one last
audience, it’s very possible I could procure the funds you need.”
 
The words take a long minute to sink in. Arashi blinks slowly, but before he
can say anything, Ritsu leans forward. “Isn’t it awful,” he murmurs, eyes
glittering, “that our fine fighting men, keeping us safe, have to resort to
private funding? A real king shouldn’t force his armies to do that kind of
thing, that’s what I think.”
 
“It’s why my family has become rather…selective, with how we back the king’s
own purchases these days. Ah, Lord Tsukasa of the Suou family, at your
service,” the redhead properly introduces. “Ritsu—forgive me, but perhaps we
shouldn’t be so bold as to speak like this in public.”
 
“Good thing I rented us a private room, eh?” Ritsu says, with a sly smile. “And
I got us a couple girls to keep us warm in there.” He gestures at a small door
in the back of the tavern. “Help me bring the good Captain, eh? He looks
heavy....too much work.”
 
“Come with me, Captain,” Tsukasa sighs, climbing up from his chair and urging
Arashi to his feet, an arm slung around him to support him. “He’s not as heavy
as he looks, Ritsu—but if you leave this all to me, I’m not paying for the
drinks or women!”
 
“I can stand,” Arashi protests. “I, where are we goin’?” The world is spinning
a bit, and he struggles to find his footing at first, then manages it. “I just
wanna keep my men safe, y’know...I have wizards, but they can’t make food, does
he think they can make food? I, oh--”
 
“Watch the carpet,” Ritsu murmurs, sliding the door open, then scooting into a
plush booth. The table is stacked with booze, and a voluptuous lady rouses from
a half-slumber, curling her arms around him from behind.
 
“Welcome, milords,” another lady murmurs, cleavage nearly bursting from her
bodice, ties falling loosely open. “Come sit with us, it’s ever so cold
outside.”
 
Tsukasa’s eyes immediately slide down from the woman’s face, and stay there. He
quickly slides into the booth, dragging Arashi down next to him, and offers the
lady a beaming smile. “Good evening, Milady. A glass of wine, please? Captain,
shall we call another lady for you? I’m afraid I’m not terribly good at
sharing, and Ritsu, well…” 
 
The room snaps into focus. Unfortunately, that’s the end of his pleasant buzz,
as sobriety usually returns quickly to Arashi once he first comes back to
himself. He shakes his head, waving the stranger towards the woman. “By all
means, Milord, enjoy yourself. I’ve a lover at home who won’t want to smell
another lady’s perfume, but please, don’t blush on my account.”
 
“Suit yourself,” Ritsu murmurs, pulling his lady into his lap, her dark curls
spilling over bare shoulders as she lets out an appreciative murmur. “Mm, you
don’t mind if I have a little nibble, do you, lovely?”
 
“Keep drinking with us, then,” Tsukasa insists, pushing a glass in Arashi’s
direction as he settles down, hooking a finger into the lacings of the woman’s
bodice to neatly unravel them. “If you wouldn’t mind, Milady. Ah, what were we
talking about, right, finances. I won’t see your men starve, especially by the
king’s hand.”
 
Arashi takes a long breath, and clinks his glass cheerfully against Tsukasa’s.
“It’s my pleasure to be your companion for the night, then,” he declares, and
takes a large swig. “What’s your pleasure, Milord? A contingent of my best men
for a private guard for you? Is there an enemy of yours in the West you want me
to vacation at?”
 
Ritsu perks up, looking up from where he’s currently kissing, or possibly
sucking, at the lady’s neck, one hand on her inner thigh, scooting up her
skirts. He licks his lips, flecks of blood dotting his lips. “What’s that last
one?”
 
Arashi laughs. “Old soldier trick, from what I’ve heard. You make sure your
command is close to your political rival’s estates around eventide, then invoke
King’s Right of Harbor, and make yourself his lawful guest for a few nights,
drinking his ale and eating his food, leaving the place in disarray when you
leave, and every lady with a swelling belly. It’s a huge strain on his
resources.”
 
“Oh, I don’t need any of that,” Tsukasa says with a shake of his head, sipping
his own wine as his hand remains firmly attached to one of his woman’s breasts,
gently kneading and stroking as she sighs into his shoulder. “Though that is
funny. No, there’s only thing I want from you, and it’s the eventual support of
the prince. You know,” he adds nonchalantly, “Should an uprising occur, for one
reason or another.”
 
Arashi’s tankard stops halfway to his mouth, and he carefully sets it down
again. The sense that something important has happened occurs, and he pauses.
 
“Mm, that’s fair,” Ritsu murmurs, scooting his lady into his lap, one hand
disappearing completely beneath her skirts as she starts to squirm. “I’ve met
that prince several times--he’s quite fond of the army, you know, especially
them being well-fed. Heh, Tsukasaaa, that’s what you like, isn’t it? You just
like it when people are well-fed, like your pretty friend there, eh?”
 
“I appreciate a woman that treats herself generously,” Tsukasa says without
batting an eye. “Honestly, Ritsu, you’re going to embarrass that poor girl.” He
downs another mouthful of wine, and looks back to Arashi, huffing out a breath.
“The prince is a far better man than his father ever could be. He’s talented,
brilliant, kind-hearted, a man that truly cares about his people—and that’s who
I stand behind. My family is one of the two wealthiest families in the land,
and I can finance anything you need so long as you agree to support the prince
as well.”
 
“What would such...support entail?” Arashi asks carefully, tracing his finger
around the rim of his tankard. He watches the movement of Tsukasa’s hand on the
lady’s breast, finding himself almost mesmerized. Tsukasa has lovely hands, his
mind offers, and he looks back at the table, face flushing. It’s been several
weeks since he’d dared to talk to Mika across his tent, hand wrapped around
himself. In the past week, he’s awakened every morning sweaty and aching, stiff
under his sticky sheets, hungry and desperate to pin someone to the ground.
Watching two gorgeous men enjoying themselves with women isn’t how he usually
enjoys himself, but at this point, with Mika locked safely away in the Academy
for the week, it’s as much as he can get.
 
He clears his throat, and looks back down at his ale. “I won’t associate my
company with agitators.”
 
“Mm, nothing like that,” Ritsu says slyly, making Arashi realize he’s been well
and truly sucked into a plot. The beautiful young man’s teeth glint in the low
lantern light. “Just keep a weather eye out. And if it ever does come to
conflict, you’ll be with us. Have you met the prince? He’s a fine young man,
strong and kind and honorable.”
 
“Let me be clear that I’m not reaching for a rebellion,” Tsukasa dismissively
says, and he downs the rest of his glass before simply giving into the urge to
pull his own lady into his lap, yanking her bodice open the rest of the way,
and firmly splaying his hands across her generous breasts. He sighs, pleased,
and lets his head knock back into the high, plush back of the booth. “I just
want to make sure that I’m not giving my money away to someone that is only
going to turn their back on the right cause later. You seem like a good man,
Captain Arashi, and I understand that you’re rather, ah, inexperienced, in the
ways of nobles, but kissing up to the king isn’t the only way to get where you
want to be. Forgive me if that comes off as rude, I’m a bit drunk and you are
so soft, Milady.”
 
“I don’t mind, Milord,” the lady murmurs with a little gasp, splaying her
thighs over Tsukasa’s, arching back against him. “And your hands are so soft
and, ahh...”
 
“You would like the noisy ones,” Ritsu laughs lowly, his own lady squirming
more insistently now, hand still invisible under her skirts. “Mm, Lord Tsukasa
is right, Captain. I know you by reputation, I’ve lived in Ostran for ten
years. They say your name a lot there--that you’re a fine, upstanding man with
a good head for battle and a strong sense of loyalty. I just want to introduce
you to a few other men like you, and the prince.”
 
Arashi nods slowly, eyes drifting back to Tsukasa’s hands no matter how he
tries to keep them behaving properly. “Your prince...would he be, ah, friendly,
to my interests? Assuming there is an agitation--”
 
“We’re honestly just hoping the king dies soon,” Ritsu says bluntly. “Of
natural causes--here, arch up a bit, sweetheart, I’ll give you a surprise.” A
moment later, after the sound of buttons loosening, the girl in his lap gasps,
low and throaty, and Ritsu’s eyes lid.
 
Tsukasa licks his lips, his hands hands cupping and squeezing, thumbs dragging
upward to brush over his woman’s nipples, gently, distractedly twisting them.
“The prince has no idea of the support he has at this point, I’d wager. He’s as
young as you and I, Captain—we’re speaking in terms of a far future, but if
there’s something in particular you need him to show an interest in, it’s not
like I can’t start putting it in his ear…”
 
Tsukasa has a nice voice, especially right now when Arashi is a little tipsy,
watching him skillfully work his lady into a panting, writhing frenzy. He looks
over, eyes flicking over the way that Tsukasa licks his lips, and he feels heat
pool deep in his belly. Damn, he thinks, hand curling hungrily around the
handle of his tankard. “I...yes, of course,” he says softly, trying to stay in
his correct state of mind. “I’m just...I want my men taken care of. And
perhaps, maybe, if he could look into the breast interests of the war’s future-
-”
 
“Breast interests,” Ritsu snickers, interrupting.
 
Arashi blinks. “What?”
 
“My god, is your lover so possessive that she can’t understand a nobleman’s
needs?” Tsukasa grumbles, and he releases one of the nipples he keeps toying
with to reach over and grab Arashi’s hand. “I like you, you’re good—I’ll share,
as a gesture of good will. Doesn’t that sound fun, Milady?” he breathes,
turning his face into his woman’s neck, nuzzling her hair aside as he twists a
nipple between his fingertips. “The Captain’s very handsome, isn’t he? Not
entirely to my taste, but…”
 
A bucket of cold water would have been less effective. The arousal flares in
Arashi when Tsukasa grabs his hand, then wilts and fades the second Tsukasa
brings it to that soft, plump breast. He squares his jaw, turning his hand to
cup the softness there, a little smile all he can muster. If I was ever unsure
about my own proclivities, he thinks dourly, uncomfortably aware of Ritsu’s
sharp, glowing eyes on him. This would clear it right up for certain.“I’m
grateful, Milord, to be sure,” he says softly, as the girl bites her bottom
lip, obviously enjoying the touch of his hand. “But I wouldn’t dream of
intruding. Please, have your fun, don’t worry about me.”
 
“Are you a monk?” Ritsu asks bluntly. “I like to seal deals by seeing my
friends find pleasure when we’re talking about something so...delicate.”
 
“I’m no monk,” Arashi protests. “My lover--”
 
“Must have solid gold between her legs,” Ritsu teases. “Or does it not work?”
 
Tsukasa pauses, turning his own head to stare at Arashi for a moment before
heaving a sigh. “You know it works, Ritsu, you’ve been paying more attention
than I can,” he complains, even as he drops Arashi’s hand and curls his grasp
around Arashi’s thigh instead. “Like I said, you’re not entirely to my taste,
but I’m apparently to yours, and it’s not like I’m unwilling…this is the
capital, you just have to be smart about who you let know about this kind of
thing…”
 
Arashi’s breath stops.
 
His heart thuds to life, as loud as a hammer striking in an empty room, and his
mouth goes dry. The beer goes to his head, and the hand on his thigh is warm,
promising, with words that he’s hungry to hear, driving away the cold spike of
loneliness in his chest. He licks his lips, trying to think of something to say
that doesn’t sound brokenly eager.
 
But the next second, Ritsu slides over, a hand on his other thigh, and he gives
up. “I suppose it’s no more dangerous than being associated with agitators like
you two,” he grunts, and lurches to the side, leaning in to kiss Tsukasa’s
neck.
 
Ritsu’s chuckle is rich and dark, and his hand shifts, moving properly into
Arashi’s lap to stroke and cup at the hardness swelling to life. “You want to
give up your arse for this, Tsukasa?” he breathes, bouncing his girl, who lets
out a squeal as he starts to weave a spell. “We can keep the girls...”
 
“Why don’t you give yours up?” Tsukasa grumbles, even as he obliges Arashi’s
advances, tilting his head to the side with a little, hitching sigh. He drags a
hand down from his lady’s breasts to hike up her skirts, his hand sliding
between those soft, thick thighs. “Or—no, better idea. I’ll let you do whatever
you want,” he begins, giving Arashi’s thigh a squeeze. “But Ritsu, I get your
mouth. For a week.”
 
“Wait,” Arashi murmurs, starting to realize something.
 
“Deal,” Ritsu overrides with a lazy grin, giving his lady’s neck another bite
in pleasure. When he’s done, he reaches a hand up, looking sated and cloudy
with pleasure, long fingernails curling through Arashi’s hair at the base of
his neck. “You taste good, anyway, must be all the milk you drink.”
 
Arashi’s head spins. He starts to get the feeling that he’s been had, that
these two have planned on this for longer than he’d expected, but he’s too far
gone to think clearly. He moves, letting his hand drag down Tsukasa’s back,
feeling the lean strength there. “You’ve got a lovely body,” he says softly,
voice nearly shaking from how hard he is against Ritsu’s hand, how much he
needs this right now. “Take your shirt off, please...”
 
Tsukasa shuts his eyes briefly, presses a kiss to the side of his lady’s neck,
then neatly deposits her to the side. “I’ll be back for you,” he firmly says,
one-handedly working open the fastenings of his jacket to shrug it off as he
turns toward Arashi. Well—even if Arashi isn’t precisely his type, he’s still
beautiful, in his own way. “Do you even have a lover?” he demands. “Or was that
a lie? They’re a man, I’m assuming.”
 
“If you have one,” Ritsu murmurs, squeezing gently, “it’s a very...gentle
relationship, I think, or you wouldn’t be so...mm.”
 
Arashi sucks in a breath, and lets his hands wander, trembling slightly as he
lays them on Tsukasa’s chest. Feeling that broad, flat plane instead of the
softness of breasts makes his mouth water, heart thudding as his fingertips
spread out, thumbs brushing over the gentle swell of muscles, then hardening
nipples. “I have a...beloved,” he says softly. “But we aren’t allowed to touch.
That’s all I’ll--”
 
“A wizard,” Ritsu says, but his tone is so knowing, so compassionate, that
Arashi can’t even be afraid. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s none the wiser.
Just enjoy yourself tonight, Captain.”
 
“Have you ever…been with a man, then?” Tsukasa asks, all sorts of mystified
that a soldier/nobleman hasn’t been sleeping his way through the ranks. He
shifts his way closer, shrugging off his coat the rest of the way, and
hesitates only a second more before slinging a leg over Arashi’s thighs to
climb properly into his lap. “Honestly, it’s a good thing you ran into us
tonight, and not someone else that would truly eat you alive,” he sniffs, his
fingers dragging down the front of Arashi’s chest, unfastening his coat as he
goes. “The capital isn’t kind to men like you, Captain.”
 
“Nowhere is kind to men like me,” Arashi says with a grunt, yanking his
breeches open. “I’m from the West, the Capital is a piece of cake. And
you...are very sweet yourself.”
 
He reaches up, only the smallest sliver of guilt niggling at him as he cups
Tsukasa’s face. “I hope you like this a little bit,” he whispers. “I know you
don’t like--”
 
“He likes it just fine,” Ritsu murmurs, leaning over to nibble Arashi’s ear,
setting his own lovely lady to the side. “Spread your legs, Tsukasa, I’ll get
you ready. Just like old times, mm?” His spell sparks to life, settling around
them, even as it works to make the magic invisible around Arashi. No use being
obvious to his secret magic lover, after all.
 
Tsukasa exhales a low, grumbling noise, but it’s far less a complaint about the
situation, more annoyed that his own body seems so content to respond. “Fine,”
he murmurs, squirming his way out of his breeches. “Don’t misunderstand,
Captain,” he quietly says, his eyes lidded as he drags his fingers over
Arashi’s bare skin, tracing the line of his collarbone, his thumbs rubbing over
Arashi’s nipples. “Like Ritsu says, I like this just fine. Just, mm, I have
high standards.”
 
Arashi groans, cock hard against Tsukasa’s thigh, urgent and eager even to rub
against that soft skin. He feels Ritsu’s hand moving, and watches those fingers
disappear into Tsukasa, something that makes his hands clench on Tsukasa’s
thighs. “You look so lovely like this,” he whispers, hardly able to believe
this is happening right now, that he’s about to make love to a man for the
first time and it’s two men, of all things. “I want to watch you sink down on
me, do his fingers feel good?”
 
“Using the best lubricant there is,” Ritsu murmurs with a smirk, curling his
fingers. “Straight from between her thighs. Thought you’d like that.”
 
Tsukasa’s mouth falls open, his back arching with a shudder raking sharply down
his spine. “T…that’s…very lewd, you know,” he gasps, his hands dragging up to
grip at Arashi’s shoulders, perfectly manicured nails biting into his skin.
This might not be his first preference for a fun evening, but Ritsu’s fingers
make it that way, and a low, rumbling groan escapes Tsukasa’s throat before he
can bite it back. His thighs tremble underneath Arashi’s grip as he rocks back
down against Ritsu’s hand, biting his lip to keep back another sound.
“C…captain, you…ah…I…”
 
Arashi’s hands are clumsier than he ever remembers them being, closing around
Tsukasa’s waist, dragging him closer. Ritsu’s fingers work in thoroughly, and
Arashi watches Tsukasa’s face change, leaning in to press his lips against the
young man’s neck, nibbling at the soft skin, making that sweet pale skin bloom
red under his teeth. “Let me know when you’re ready,” he urges, hands dipping
down, curling around Tsukasa’s thighs and squeezing. “I’ve got to be inside
you, please, I won’t last much longer--”
 
“He likes to complain,” Ritsu says softly, twisting his fingers. “But he can
take plenty in here, and he loves it, once you get him started.”
 
The twist of Ritsu’s hand makes Tsukasa arch and shudder, clenching down hard.
His cock twitches between his legs, and he squirms forward to rub it against
the flat, hard plane of Arashi’s stomach. “Y-you can put it in,” he pants, a
droplet of sweat running down from his hairline as he reaches a fumbling hand
down for Arashi’s cock. His vision blurs, the heady mix of arousal and
tipsiness making his head swim. “Ah…Ritsu, help, I’m drunk and things feel too
good…”
 
“You don’t need help,” Ritsu says, very seriously, as he pulls out his hand. He
reaches down, grabbing Arashi’s extremely hard cock, guiding it to that slick
hole. “You need a thick cock up your arse, don’t you?”
 
All of the rest of Arashi’s sense leaves him in a moment, when he lurches up,
burying himself inside Tsukasa’s sweet hole. “You’re so--oh, gods, oh, gods--”
 
Tsukasa bites into Arashi’s shoulder, muffling the noises that want to escape
his throat when Arashi’s suddenly in him, hard and thick and inside so far that
it takes his breath away. He hiccups, slumping forward against Arashi’s chest
when he finally stops biting down, and instead pants open-mouthed, his thighs
trembling as he grinds down slowly, savoring that aching stretch and the tense
heat that pools in his belly. “Make it good, Captain,” he breathes, butting his
face into Arashi’s neck. “I don’t do this for just anyone…”
 
“That’s--a lot of pressure,” Arashi grunts, hips canting up, slamming into the
sweet heat above him, grinding in deep, mindlessly seeking more of that
beautiful tightness. He leans up, catching Tsukasa’s lips in a hard kiss as he
squeezes the man’s thighs, fingerprints sinking into the soft skin there. His
strength is as much a liability here as an asset, with how careful he has to be
to avoid hurting his partner.
 
Ritsu isn’t making it any better, hovering nearby smelling of cardamum and
black silk, murmuring erotic words in both of their ears, urging him on as he
lurches. “Is that good?” he asks, eyes searching. “Is it--do you like it?”
 
“It really is your first time, isn’t it?” Ritsu murmurs, stroking Arashi’s
hair.
 
The noise that escapes Tsukasa’s throat is a yelp turned to a groan, and he
bites at Arashi’s lower lip, sucking on his tongue as he shifts and arches up
onto his knees, his toes curling with a breathy little grunt leaving his lips
when Arashi pulls him down. “Y-you have a nice cock,” Tsukasa breathes, his
eyes fluttering as his head thunks down into Arashi’s shoulder, and he pants
shallowly with every roll of his hips down, squeezing tight around the thick
cock inside of him. “F-feels good…when you’re in deep…”
 
“Yeah?” Arashi listens hungrily, soaking up every word Tsukasa gives him,
trying to learn on his feet while he thrusts in. He keeps himself in deep,
rocking shallowly, driving into Tsukasa’s ass with every slow grind. “You look-
-so beautiful, I just want you--”
 
Ritsu leans in quick, nipping at Tsukasa’s neck, asking sweetly, “Can I have a
little nibble, please? You smell so good, I can’t wait to have my mouth on you
all week, just give me a drop...”
 
Arashi is already a lot, and his cock is more than what Tsukasa wants to deal
with on any given day—or so he’d say any other time, but right now, it’s good
to be this full, with Arashi’s sword-calloused hands on his flesh, sweat
sticking them together. Ritsu is bordering on overstimulating and he hasn’t
even bitten yet, and Tsukasa shudders, squirming down just with the nip of
Ritsu’s teeth. His chest heaves, his nails raking up against Arashi’s back as
his head lolls to the side. “G-go ahead,” he whispers, licking at his lips.
“But not too much, I…”
 
Ritsu’s mouth descends just as Arashi cries out, hips snapping up hard over and
over. He can’t remember ever coming this hard, flooding into Tsukasa’s hole,
filling him thoroughly until the mess is dripping out around his cock.
 
Ritsu drinks greedily, then pulls his mouth away, swallowing and fetching a
last lick to the abused, punctured skin. “Mmm, so tasty, this is why I love
having you around, you know...”
 
Tsukasa feels himself melt with a rasping, ragged sound, clinging to Arashi’s
neck as his cock twitches and throbs, coming in a steady stream over Arashi’s
stomach and his own thighs. His neck tingles, the lingering sensation of that
bite trickling through his veins, and Tsukasa slumps forward with a groan.
“Commoners…always come so much,” he grumpily mutters against Arashi’s skin.
“Ahh, what a mess…Ritsu…Ritsuuu, the pact took, right?”
 
“Sure did,” Ritsu says dreamily, leaning back and folding his hands behind his
head. “Just so you know, Captain, that’s what a blood pact feels like. The fun
kind.” He winks sleepily. “Just means that no one here can talk about our
little...agitations, as you call them, apart from the rest of us. Don’t worry
about it, it won’t hurt you.”
 
Arashi’s head feels fuzzy, but he doubts it’s magic. It feels more like
delicious pleasurable aftershocks, combined with the aftereffects of all that
beer, his mind spinning from everything with the king, with his army, with the
fact that he’s just betrayed the love of his very young life, all at once. He
blinks, then squeezes Tsukasa’s ass, nuzzling into his hair. “As long as I
don’t have to do anything, good.”
 
“Don’t squeeze me, I’m sore,” Tsukasa complains, though he doesn’t exactly make
an attempt to move other than to half-heartedly shift, reaching back to grab
someone’s half-empty glass of ale. “Is anyone hungry?” he grumbles. “I’m
hungry. I hate that I’m always hungry afterwards.”
 
Ritsu plants a firm kiss on his lady’s cheek. “Fetch us a platter of meat and
chips, love, will you?”
 
She giggles and tucks her skirts down, bustling out of the little room.
 
Arashi gently sets Tsukasa down on the bench, stroking his hair, showing as
much tenderness as he can after feeling like he’s definitely been hoodwinked.
“You both had this plan ready for a while, hmm?” he asks, trying not to sound
accusatory.
 
“Yep,” Ritsu says, totally unrepentant. “Had my eye on you for a couple years.
Don’t worry, it’s not a big plot, we’re just collecting like-minded people.”
 
Tsukasa sprawls back across his own woman, content to shove his face into her
breasts and be petted. Yes, that’s an excellentreward. “You should be happy
about this, Captain. Not only do we have a good cause, but your only other
source of funding is from the Himemiya family, and if you ever talk to them,
I’m immediately taking away every single dollar I’ve ever given you.”
 
“Himemiya?” Arashi cocks his head, searching his memory. “I swear I’ve heard
that name before.”
 
“In the Academy,” Ritsu suggests. “I’m guessing, because I don’t see you at
court much. The brat is a wizard in training.”
 
“He used to be the only son and scion of the closest family to the crown, but
now look at him,” Tsukasa smugly says. “Not that there’s anything wrong with
being a wizard,” he hastily adds, sparing a glance to Ritsu. “But—well, it
certainly ruins every normal life opportunity, and his family is now furious.
Serves them right.”
 
“Are you a wizard?” Arashi asks, noting the look with surprise. Cold fear
seizes him, and he sits bolt upright, eyes wide. “Wait, are--”
 
“You’re safe,” Ritsu assures him immediately.
 
Arashi doesn’t relax. “How?”
 
Seeing that he won’t be dissuaded, Ritsu leans forward, whispering in his ear,
“Because Watchers can only see humans.”
 
“Honestly, what kind of normal person would have a taste for blood?” Tsukasa
huffs with a roll of his eyes, lifting a hand to idly rub at the bite mark on
his neck. “Captain, if your beloved is truly a wizard, you need to make friends
with people like us. What’s his name, by the way?”
 
Seeing Arashi hesitate, Ritsu laughs. “You already know enough about us to get
us executed for treason,” he reminds him, poking his side. “Blood pact or no.
Tell us his name, maybe I can protect him if anything goes sideways.”
 
Arashi’s face heats up, and he turns to the side. “Mika,” he says softly.
 
Ritsu’s eyes go as wide as saucers. “The necromancer? Heh, no wonder you like
me...”
 
Tsukasa stares for a long moment, then leans over to snatch up his filled glass
of wine. “Things really do happen for a reason, don’t they,” he mutters. “If
all goes well, Captain, I can’t imagine you won’t get what you want out of this
situation. There’s…quite a bit of special interest surrounding the
necromancer’s master.”
 
“That’s enough talking about him,” Ritsu warns, grabbing his own cup. “Ahh,
booze never tastes as good after a sweet girl’s neck. Sorry for your ill luck,
Captain, I can’t imagine how obnoxious it must be to have a preference for one
sex over another.”
 
“That sounds very troublesome,” Tsukasa agrees, quick to switch topics when one
is much safer than the other, and he’s likely to run his mouth when he’s had
too much alcohol. “Beautiful women with large breasts and beautiful men
that—well, it’s better if they look like women, like—I mean, have you seen the
prince? I have. Often.”
 
“Having any taste like that is a pain,” Ritsu says, stretching out his arms
with a sigh. “Everyone who smells good is good to me. And no one is as good as
my Mao, so it doesn’t matter much.”
 
Arashi blinks, taking another drink. “How beautiful and perfect is this prince,
anyway?”
 
“Words can’t describe—I need to drag you to court to see, just being seen with
me would do wonders for you, anyway. He’s as lovely and delicate as a girl, but
I’ve never met a better archer…he wins every tournament, damn him,” Tsukasa
sighs, his eyes glazing a bit. “Getting close to him is almost impossible,
though. I daresay he barely remembers my name, he has his own interest and I
can’t even blame him…”
 
“There’s a tournament tomorrow,” Ritsu points out. “Mm, we should go. Being
seen with me will give both of us some credence in the West, with you as a new
noble and me as...well, me.”
 
Arashi turns to look at him. “What is your title, exactly?”
 
“Uh...Lord? Sure, Lord,” Ritsu says, uncaring. “I’ve been a lot of things, but
I married a wealthy lady in the West a few years ago, before her sad death.”
 
“Um, she--”
 
“Plague,” Ritsu clarifies quickly. “I didn’t do anything. Didn’t want to, she
was pretty and tasty.”
 
Arashi grimaces. “Sorry for your loss, I remember that plague. Four of my
cousins died.”
 
“That sounds terrible, but we should absolutely go to the tournament.”
Tsukasa’s eyes are all but sparkling with the idea now, and he sits up,
grabbing for Arashi’s hand. “Then you can see exactly how lovely he is—I mean,
yes, I think he’ll be a great king as well, but isn’t it important for someone
to be nice to look at? I think so.”
 
“He’s embarrassingly shallow, isn’t he?” Ritsu asks fondly.
 
“I don’t know, Lord Ritsu,” Arashi admits. “I think it’s important to be very
beautiful, yes!”
 
“See? We can be friends,” Tsukasa firmly says, patting Arashi’s hand. “One
thing, though—I would greatly appreciate it if we don’t ever speak of this
night again. The sex part of it, I mean. I have a reputation, you have a
beloved, let’s just not.”
 
“Of course,” Arashi says hastily. “We don’t need to talk about it. Ah...but
just so you know...” He takes Tsukasa’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “I really
enjoyed it. It was wonderful, thank you.”
 
“You’re very nice, Captain. It’s a shame you aren’t more my type.”
 
“You know,” Arashi says with a sigh, “you’re cuter when you’re not saying that
twenty times a night.”
 
“My apologies, I just prefer to be honest.” Unfazed, Tsukasa turns back to his
woman. “Now, if neither of you mind, I’m going to have an enjoyable night, and
I’ll see you at the tournament tomorrow.”
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Between war campaigns, expanding research facilities, and rapidly expanding
posts all over the country, the Academy seems empty.
 
That bodes well for Mao and the missive in his hand when he arrives at the
shared quarters of one Nightcloak Shu and his Nooncloak tag-along, and he
knocks briskly. Their stay-over couldn’t be better timed; with Captain Arashi
temporarily tucked away within the capital, with most other Academy officials
preoccupied elsewhere, there is little that can get in the way. “Excellency,”
he softly calls. “A word.”
 
There’s a long minute before the door finally swings open, revealing Shu
standing looking weary, wearing his full uniform, a paper packet of needles in
his hand. “You are interrupting,” he says sternly. “Ask Mika for permission to
enter, you frighten him.”
 
The only sign of Mika, in fact, is the tail end of his robes sticking out from
underneath one of the beds—both of which have obviously been pushed together,
but for now, hastily tugged apart a few centimeters. Mao sighs. “Excellency,
it’s not my intention to frighten you.”
 
Silence follows. Mao looks back to Shu, his eyebrows raised. “This is
important, or I wouldn’t disturb the two of you.”
 
“Make it good,” Shu warns, and turns to the dressform in the corner, currently
displaying a bodice and the beginnings of a skirt. “You’re interrupting my
private time, and I’ve already completed my research for the day. You should
know by now how little tolerance I have for the nonsense from your masters.”
 
Mao pulls the door shut behind him, and immediately, the silence that drops
over the room is startling. It’s enough that Mika shifts underneath the bed,
warily poking his head out, a single eye peering out from underneath the heavy
fall of his bangs. “Forgive me, Excellency,” Mao begins, and drops to one knee
in front of Shu. He pulls free a wax-sealed letter from the inside pocket of
his own robes, and offers it up with a bow of his head. “My master—your
lord—insisted this be delivered to you safely.”
 
Shu’s breath stutters in his throat, then dies.
 
He reaches out, eyes fixed on the seal, as familiar to him as the script of his
own name, imbued with the subtle strength of magic that even Rei’s best seal
can’t completely hide.
 
A part of him insists that it must be a trick. The Academy has tricked him
before, lured him in before just to mock and punish him, but...
 
In the end, it’s Rei, and he has to trust. With a surprisingly steady hand, he
reaches out and cracks the seal, reading the words in that achingly familiar
hand.
 
My love,
 
Even if you find yourself lost, believe in me and reach out your hand. We will
be brought together. Be patient and keep your eyes towards me alone.
 
“When?” he asks, voice hoarse and hollow. “When did you see him?”
 
“This time last week, Excellency.” Mao lifts his head, hesitating for a moment.
“That’s as much as I’m allowed to tell you, I’m afraid—for your safety and
his.”
 
Mika slowly slithers out from underneath the bed, obviously wary as he hauls
himself to his feet and attaches himself to Shu’s sleeve. He peers over to read
the letter, his brow furrowing. “Are you sure it’s from him?” he lowly presses.
“What if it’s a trick? This guy’s a watcher, this could be a test, it ain’t
like it’s a secret about you an’ Rei…”
 
“This isn’t a test,” Mao patiently says. “Excellency, I know that you can sense
my master’s magic within that seal. I can’t duplicate something like that; I’m
enhanced, but I’m still only human.”
 
“It’s genuine,” Shu says softly, blinking as Milady flutters down off of her
shelf chair, coming to rest in a kneel next to Shu’s thigh, providing silent
comfort. “If it is a trap...”
 
He laughs, bitter and low. “I can’t say that I care any longer. Well, Watcher.
What do you want? He wouldn’t have sent me that if he didn’t have something in
the works.”
 
“He does, but I don’t know what it is,” Mao admits, just barely keeping a hefty
amount of irritation from his voice. “He’s terribly scattered, and you know
this better than most. What I can tell you is that he’s on the move again, and
I believe his end goal is to eliminate the Emperor entirely take take the
Academy as his own again. Until then…consider me at your service in his stead.
I can’t guaranteed perfectly specialized treatment, but I hope you’ve already
found your life to be somewhat easier. His Excellency Mika’s, as well—my master
says you two come as a set.”
 
“Indeed.” Shu rests his hand on the back of Mika’s neck, proprietary and
protective. “Can you get him messages, from time to time? Don’t think me
ungrateful, it’s more than I expected.”
 
“Yes,” Mao answers immediately, glancing up to hold Shu’s gaze. “But the timing
of such things has to be carefully arranged. Fortunately, I have a reason to
frequent your contract holder’s war camps now. That will make it much easier.”
 
Mika frowns, tightening his hold upon Shu’s sleeve. “You yelled at me before,”
he lowly accuses. “I dunno ‘bout this, Master.”
 
“That’s because you were being unnecessarily reckless,” Mao exasperatedly says.
“And because I didn’t want someone else to come across you doing anything
stupid. Better me than someone else, I assure you.”
 
“Don’t be ungrateful,” Shu warns, hand tightening on Mika’s neck. “You broke
the rules willfully and you know it, putting your Captain’s life at risk. And
you’re both still alive.”
 
His eyes narrow, and he steps closer, eyes glittering. “To whom is your
ultimate loyalty? A difficult question for a spy, I suppose, but an important
one to me.”
 
Mika growls, much like a scruffed cat, but he doesn’t utter another protest
beyond that as he flops his head forward against Shu’s shoulder and glowers.
 
Mao, unfazed, doesn’t move from where he kneels except to tilt his head back to
better look up at Shu. “I’m bound to my master’s command,” he softly answers.
“And I hate the Emperor, and what he’s made the Academy stand for. I hope that
suffices as an answer, Excellency.”
 
Shu nods stiffly. “It does. Very well. You’ve delivered your message. When I
have need of your services, I’ll send for you. You may go.” And then I can
slump down and shake for a while.
 
Mao nods, climbing to his feet with a last bow. “Take care,” he says, and the
door clicks shut behind him, the room’s silence crushed with every humming
strand of magic returning.
 
Mika exhales a short breath, tugging on Shu’s arm. “This is good, right?” he
carefully presses. “It…it means the Emperor ain’t gonna be able to do stuff to
us so easily, right? I told you Rei was gonna look out for you.”
 
Shu slides down, letting his head hit the thin pillow on his bare bed, the
tremors taking him. Just the threat of being reported to the Emperor’s
torturers would be enough to send him into a spiral. The idea of his Lord
watching over him, keeping him safe, sending him aid, is enough to make him
nearly comatose. “Hold me,” he manages through chattering teeth, eyes squeezed
tightly shut, one tiny glass hand touching his fingertip.
 
Mika immediately tumbles after him, wrapping all four limbs around Shu and
dragging his own cloak over both of them. “See, see, it’s gonna be fine,” he
whispers, snuggling against him and pressing his lips to the top of Shu’s head.
“I told you it was gonna be okay. He loves y’so much, he sent someone t’take
care of you—it ain’t even someone useless like me, y’know? It’s one of the
Emperor’s highest aides, so you’re real safe now.”
 
“How d-dare you,” Shu sniffs, burying his face into the threadbare pillow. “I’d
never have someone useless as an apprentice. T-take it back.”
 
“B-but I’m pretty useless in this kinda thing.” Mika squeezes him, stuffing his
face into Shu’s shoulder. “If it were jus’ the Emperor, I’d kill him all day.
I’d never let him hurt you again. But it ain’t, so I can’t do much.”
 
“Stop talking yourself down,” Shu orders, hands clutching at fabric. “I won’t
have it. It isn’t your duty to care for me--are you calling me useless? M-maybe
I am a failure after all...”
 
“No—no, you’re the best, you’re my master so of course you’re the best,” Mika
insistently says. “I—I know it ain’t my duty to take care of you, but I wanna,
‘cause you take care of me so much, so it’s only fair, y’know?” He bites his
lip, worriedly plucking at his own cloak. “Do you…do you really think Rei can
take over? The Academy would be a lot different with him in charge, I bet…”
 
“He can do anything.”
 
The words are quiet, but fervent, with a hitch on the end of the words. “Don’t
doubt him, not ever. The longer he’s away, the harder he’s working, the more
dramatic this will be. I’m--I’m a fool, I doubted him.”
 
“Y’didn’t doubt him, you were jus’…” Scared, alone. Saying that out loud though
won’t make Shu feel better, so Mika just trails off, cuddling closer, burying
himself up against Shu’s side. “It feels like he can do anythin’,” he softly
agrees. “If he’s got someone like that watcher here and takin’ care of
you…that’s real good. I wonder who else is a spy, heh. That’s kinda great,
right? Master, you’ll be runnin’ the Academy next to him, that’s what you’ve
always wanted.”
 
“I do like being in charge.” With that thought, some of the trembling fades,
and Shu takes a ragged breath, relaxing back against Mika’s slender warmth. “I
have a lot of ideas for how to fix this place, you know. For one thing, the
color scheme.”
 
“Yeah, ’s too much white,” Mika agrees, stroking a hand slowly through Shu’s
hair. “Nnn, does that mean you’d be the Emperor? Though if Rei is, then you’d
be, uh…his…Em…press….?”
 
“That’s very unnecessarily gendered of you,” Shu says critically. “I’ll be his
Consort, obviously.”
 
“It ain’t me genderin’ on purpose, I jus’ didn’t know a word for it,” Mika
complains. “Consort, then. Whatever, you’d still be in charge, it’d be good.
Lemme have extra blankets when you’re in charge, it’s always cold in here.”
 
“They’ll be much finer.” Shu’s eyes mist over, and he descends into his
imagination. “Tapestries will be important, of course, and the moulding on the
windows, that will have to go. The carpets, gone, replaced with glossy
hardwoods and the most beautiful runners. Plush mattresses, obviously, and
coverlets, and furs in the winter. We’ll update the furnaces, and the roof as
well. Ah, there’s no end to what I want to fix here, even beyond...the
personal.”
 
“That sounds so much nicer,” Mika sighs wistfully, nuzzling his face into Shu’s
neck. “Like a place people’ll actually wanna be. Much less scary. I wanna be
able to give all my plushies a good place to live, too. They get upset on the
battlefield.”
 
“Indeed. They deserve better.” Shu reaches down, stroking his thumb over the
back of Mika’s hand, the only skin he dares to touch. “And so do you. I plucked
you out of that charnel house so you could be a great wizard, you know. You
weren’t meant to be shuttled around on battlefields, used up at some Lord’s
whim. You are art.”
 
Mika flushes at that, and he hides his face into Shu’s chest. “I dunno ‘bout
that,” he softly says. “It’s…it’s not like I hate the way my magic is or
anythin’. I mean, I’m real glad you became my master, don’t get me wrong, I
jus’…I dunno what else I’m good for, ‘cept killin’ things, or bein’ a weapon. I
can’t do magic the same, pretty-perfect way you do.”
 
“And I’d probably kill you if you tried,” Shu says flatly. “Why would I want an
apprentice who did the same thing that I did? I’d never stop feeling like I
wanted to crush you. As it is, I want you to take over the world, if that’s
what you want.”
 
“I mean…I think I could make the world explode ’n stuff, but that’s a little
different.”
 
“Yes. It is. I’d prefer if you don’t make anything as large as the world
explode, especially before I reunite with my Lord.”
 
“I ain’t gonna explode nothin’ unless kara wants me to,” Mika hums, rubbing his
cheek against Shu’s chest. “Or unless someone’s mean to you. I’ll kill ‘em.
Then bring ‘em back to life and make ‘em do everythin’ I say, ‘cause that’s all
they deserve. See, between me and Rei, ain’t no one gonna bother you again.”
 
Shu moves swiftly, clapping his hand over Mika’s mouth. “Do you think I avoid
saying his name because the sound displeases me?” he hisses, eyes so wide the
whites are visible all around each disc of violet. “Never, never forget that
people could be listening, and certain things draw eyes and ears.”
 
Mika pouts against Shu’s hand. “Sooorry,” he mumbles, and absently licks Shu’s
hand. “I dunno how t’call him otherwise, maybe I should give him a name in sand
tongue or somethin’…”
 
“Names work as invocations,” Shu says softly. “No matter what name you give
him. That’s why I refer to him as I do. Just call him...‘your friend from the
Northeast.’”
 
“Too many words,” Mika complains moodily. “He’s jus’ an old man. I’m gonna call
him that, he’s your old man friend.”
 
“He’ll hate that. I love it.”
***** Chapter 11 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
“Before you think I’m scolding you,” Keito declares, striding into Mao’s
bedroom, shutting the door behind him, “understand that I’m blaming myself for
your shortcomings. I realized last night that I’ve unintentionally left gaps in
your education that need to be addressed, so get your notebooks.”
 
Last night. Mao pauses, trying to parse through what Keito could have possibly
found out about the night before, even as he does as he’s told and reaches for
his paper and quill. Wasn’t I thorough enough? I’ve delivered missives like
that before, there’s nothing he could have sensed.“Of course, sir,” he
neutrally says instead. “But, ah, can you tell me what it is I’ve fallen short
in first?”
 
Keito sighs. “You didn’t sense anything at all? Damn, I thought you’d advanced
to at least the third level of ascension by now. If I’m wrong about that, I’ll
need to strip you of your provisional titles and take you back to training.”
 
“My apologies, but I was busy handling an incident with the Nightcloak Shu and
his, ah, attachment—you know how all-encompassing dealing with those two can be
when they’re in a mood, it’s been such a relief that they’ve been contracted
away from here, hasn’t it?” Mao says with a weary laugh. Last night, last
night—his mind races, thinking of what Keito could possibly be referring to,
and just based on what he has to tackle today, Mao takes a wild guess and a
hell of a chance. “I…was it perhaps the magic of a half-blood? I’m not entirely
accustomed to dealing with such things, but I thought I felt such a thing, but
being unsure and distracted, I felt mentioning it was amiss…”
 
Keito exhales in relief. “Good, good. I wasn’t looking forward to six months of
re-education in the wilds. Still, we need to practice. It was quite visible
last night, if you know how to look, so we’ll practice with one of the half-
blood criminals in the prison. I don’t like this way of doing it, but obviously
you need more practice.”
 
Mao tries not to breath his own, identical sigh of relief. Fortunately, he’s
gotten very good at reading what Keito wants to hear over the years, but right
now…well, it’s not like he can tell Keito he doesn’t have time to go and
practice on half-blood criminals when he already can, simply put, sense a half-
blood better than anyone else in the damned Academy. “There’s a huge event in
the capital today, though,” he mildly points out. “If there’s half-blood
activity about, I’d rather learn hands on, and I still have the scent from last
night—so if the half-blood is there, I bet I can find them.”
 
“Oh, my apologies.” Keito’s eyes flash, though his voice is carefully neutral,
almost comically so. “I forgot, you are the teacher, and I the student.
Amusing, how I thought my twenty-five years of experience could possibly lend
itself towards your education. Clearly, we should do as you say. Go on, teach
me something. I’m sure I have much to learn. Here, give me your notebook, so I
can take notes on your wisdom.”
 
“Ahh…I don’t mean it like that, sir, you know I don’t,” Mao protests, and he
turns towards Keito, hands clasped together. “I know you’re far more
experienced than I’ll ever be, but I just learn better in the field, that’s how
it’s always been, you know that! Not to mention…” Mao bites his lip, glancing
away. It’s a feint he doesn’t use often—playing Keito too hard or too much
simply doesn’t work, but if he pushes just right, sometimes… “Ah…no, never
mind, you’re right. It’s not important, I suppose, I’ll do as you say.”
 
Keito’s eyes narrow. He folds his arms over his chest, skeptical. “You have one
chance to impress me with what you’re about to say,” he warns. “I already have
a headache from dealing with Eichi all morning, so make it good.” And damn him
for being so weak to Mao’s stressed, guileless face.
 
“I just…ahh…I feel bad practicing anything on captives, even if they’re
criminals.” That’s mostly true, but more than anything, with some of them being
from the Shadowlands, their constant leering at him for having Rei’s scent all
over him is…troublesome. “I know that’s probably silly, but the other excuse I
have is worse,” Mao admits, rubbing at the back of his neck. “A friend of mine
I met in the West is going to be at the tournament today, and I never get a
chance to see him. I was hoping to be able to go for both that and work, but I
understand if you need me here. So—I’ll just reschedule. I don’t want you to
have to deal with everything by yourself.”
 
Keito sighs, rubbing his temples. “Tell me about this friend. I want to make
sure he’s someone you should be associating with. I’m responsible for your
welfare, why haven’t I heard about him?”
 
“You’ve heard of him! I went to his wife’s funeral some time ago, remember?
It’s the same friend,” Mao presses, taking a step closer to more pointedly
direct a large-eyed stare up at Keito. “He’s a lord from the West. A good man,
but very lonely these days, which is why I wanted to see him—he’s in town
visiting with the Suou family for a trade deal. See, all good names, I
promise.”
 
Keito’s temples thud, and he rubs them, lifting the arms of his spectacles off
for a moment. “Very well. I’ll make you a deal. We’ll go to the festival and
skip the prison, on the condition that you can prove to me that you can sniff
out half-blood magic in a crowd. And then, yes, you can go drink with your
friend...Ritsu, was it? But if you mess up, you’re missing evening meal for
five days and practicing in the prison until I’m satisfied.”
 
“Deal.” It’s not exactly the deal he wanted, but backing out now will make
Keito more annoyed, more suspicious, and Mao can figure this out. If he can’t,
he’d be a piss-poor spy and enhanced, now wouldn’t he? “It’ll be fun—sometimes
it’s good to combine work with pleasure, don’t you think, sir?” he teases. “If
you’re not careful, all of your hair’s going to turn grey from the stress, and
you’re too young for that.”
 
A pang of longing tugs at Keito’s heart. It’s too easy to remember Rei, before
that blasted bond had formed and his heart had locked onto someone else,
someone that wasn’t him, without a backwards glance. He’d forced himself to
watch what Eichi had done, feeling that somehow, it would help him atone. The
years since haven’t helped that feeling fade much, and that had been the last
time he’d heard anyone flirt like that, teasing him, offering to mix business
with pleasure. His face falls, mouth pursing as his eyes tighten at the edges
in pain. “It’s your own pleasure we’re doing this for, not mine. Don’t make a
fool of me.”
 
“Have I ever made a fool out of you? I’m not like His Excellency Himemiya, I’m
the good one, heh.” Eichi isn’t here, so he can say that without fear of
reprimand. Mao turns away to shuck the long, white cloak of the Academy over
the back of his chair, and instead, snatches up the emerald green cloak he uses
for traveling. “We’re going to go and we’re going to enjoy ourselves,” he hums,
reaching over to unfasten Keito’s cloak and the official badge of the Emperor’s
aides from his chest in kind. “And if we look like we came straight from the
Academy, no one’s going to want to be near us, never mind how fast word’ll
travel to whatever half-blood is floating around. See? Work and pleasure, it’s
good for you once in awhile.”
 
Much to Keito’s surprise, his headache lessens slightly. His mouth curls in a
wry half-smile, and he nods, defeated. “Fine. I’ll have fun. But I won’t enjoy
it.”
 
Which is how, two hours later, Mao leaves Keito quibbling with the director of
games and gambling regarding his own inevitable investment in the archery
tournament, and slips away to the Suou family’s private box.
 
A mix of stress and irritation makes him nearly snatch Ritsu clear out of his
seat when he sees just the back of his head. Even amidst the throngs of people,
the magical trail from the night prior is still there—vague, thin and broken in
places, but to Mao, someone so used to the strange magic of half-bloods, it’s
obvious and plainly in sight. He sucks in a breath as he strides forward,
draping an arm around Ritsu’s shoulders from behind as he leans forward, close
to Ritsu’s ear. “Hi.” The greeting is ground out, a little sharper than he’d
usually be. “Pick a person you don’t like and redirect your magical trail
there,” he lowly orders. “You have maybe ten minutes before Keito comes to his
senses and stops having fun.”
 
A smile spreads instantly over Ritsu’s face, and he tugs Mao onto his lap,
nuzzling into his neck. “Ya~ay, you’re here! Mm, c’mere, my favorite snack,
I’ll just have a little taste--”
 
Mao squawks, immediately pushing a hand into Ritsu’s face and trying to climb
out of his lap. “Listen to me, Ritsu! I’m not playing around,” he hisses, and
quickly does a double-take at the company Ritsu is keeping before he groans.
“You again. Why am I not surprised?”
 
Tsukasa blinks as he follows Mao’s stare, and looks over to Arashi, eyebrows
raising. “Ah…you two have already met?”
 
“Yes, unfortunately. Ritsu, let me go, I’m absolutely blaming you for
everything.”
 
Arashi looks over at Ritsu and Mao, frowning. “I thought you said no one was
watching or tracking you,” he says lowly.
 
Ritsu turns Mao around, then yanks him down onto his lap with strength like
iron. “He’s not my Watcher,” he hums. “He’s my friend. And favorite snack. And
fine, fine, how’s this?”
 
The trace of Ritsu’s magic vanishes suddenly, reappearing a moment later around
an old man with one eye, hands currently wandering towards an unsuspecting
young woman’s thighs.
 
Mao’s lips purse, but it is exactly what he told Ritsu to do, so—“Fine,” he
crossly says, still looking decidedly ruffled and put out all the same.
“That’ll do. You were sloppy last night, what on earth were you doing? Do not
try and bite me right now,” he quickly warns, placing a finger against Ritsu’s
lips before he tries again. “We’re in public. I can also tell you’ve fed, stop
it.”
 
Tsukasa scoots closer to Arashi. “He’s a Watcher, but he’s working against the
Academy,” he lowly says. “God knows for who, but that’s not important right
now—the important thing is that he makes it a lot easier to work around
whatever the Academy is doing with the crown.”
 
At that, Arashi perks up a little. Looking over at Mao, attempting to evade
Ritsu’s teasing, pinching fingers, he whispers, “Maybe I could use that. For me
and Mika, it’s so hard not to touch him...”
 
“You could…maybe…ask,” Tsukasa carefully whispers back. “But he’s not usually
in support of that sort of thing. He’s not just a watcher, he’s a
transporter—meaning he helps relocate wizards to their assignments, so he’s one
of the ones closest to them at all times. I’m not sure he’d endanger that post
of his, but…of course you can ask?”
 
Arashi hesitates. He nearly does, but it’s too easy to remember Mao’s urgent
warning--Your stableboy could be a Watcher. “Even if I somehow did convince
him,” he says softly, “Mika would just take that as permission to misbehave.
And he’s far from the only Watcher, and not usually around us. It’s too
dangerous.”
 
“If you’re very serious about it, you could always schedule it,” Tsukasa mildly
suggests. “But that sort of takes the romance out of it, if you ask me.”
 
“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, stop that right
now,” Mao warns, clawing himself out of Ritsu’s clutches, no matter his
intense, bone-crushing clinging. “You at least should know better, Milord.”
 
“Me?” Tsukasa echoes, affronted. “I’ve never touched a wizard in my life.” He
pauses, and looks at Ritsu, catching onto the falsehood quickly. “This doesn’t
count, he’s—well.“
 
“You know, just because I’m very good at silencing and blocking doesn’t mean
you can continue to run your mouths,” Mao hums irritably. “You’re making my
life so difficult—”
 
Tsukasa’s attention is sharply and abruptly diverted, and he grabs Arashi by
the arm to haul him forward, close to the wooden railing. “Look, look—that’s
the prince—isn’t he just…ugh, he makes me so angry, he never remembers my name,
why is he like that when he looks like that!”
 
Mao slumps back with a sigh, shutting his eyes. Maybe I should go back to
gambling with Keito.
 
“He~ey,” Ritsu whines, poking Mao’s ribs. “Isn’t that your boring spectacles
guy? He’s not wearing his robes...wow, his arms are really skinny, huh?”
 
The tall man is apparently engaged in a spirited talk with a short, slender
redhead, holding a longbow taller than he is. The redhead then turns his back,
peering around until he sees another man, a stunning beauty with silver hair,
lounging in the shade. “That’s the prince?” Arashi asks skeptically. “He looks
like he’s twenty pounds of energy in a ten pound body.”
 
“Ideal,” Tsukasa says without batting an eye, though he’s still scowling. “But
so annoying, I just want to—“
 
“Yes, I made him change so he’d look like a normal human for a change,” Mao
says with a roll of his eyes, swatting Ritsu’s hand away half-heartedly and
patting his head instead to placate him. “And yes, his arms are very skinny.
It’s sort of endearing.”
 
“—grab him by the neck and shake him. That’s not treason, don’t quote me,”
Tsukasa hastily adds, then huffs as the prince bounds his way back to the
silver-haired teenager, grabbing at his hands. Tsukasa sighs heavily. “You’ll
also see him around,” he says with a flutter of a hand. “That’s Lord Izumi of
the Sena house, or as most of the court calls him behind his back, the Prince
in the North. He and Prince Leo are attached at the hip.”
 
“Oh, he’s lovely,” Arashi sighs, leaning back in his chair. “They both are,
honestly. Mm, my further opinions will follow later when we’re in private. Look
forward to an evaluation.”
 
Ritsu subsides under the patting, hands folding politely in his lap at last.
“The sun is real bright,” he mutters, butting his head gently against Mao’s
hand. “Gimme an umbrella.”
 
“They should kiss,” Tsukasa bluntly mutters underneath his breath. “But you
didn’t hear that from me.”
 
Mao ruffles Ritsu’s hair fondly, and unclasps his own cloak to drape it over
Ritsu’s head, tucking it around him. “No umbrella right now, but this should
do, hmm? I’ll go see what I can scrounge up. You’ll behave, won’t you?”
 
“I,” Ritsu says very seriously, huddling into the cloak, “will sleep.”
 
“Oi,” Arashi butts in, waving his fingers. “Looks like your boss is trying to
get your attention.”
 
He waves at Keito, standing and squinting at the stands, one foot tapping
against the ground.
 
“Right, I’ll be back later, maybe,” Mao exhales, patting Ritsu’s head once more
and offering a brisk bow to both Arashi and Tsukasa. “Have a nice day, Lord
Tsukasa, Lord Arashi.”
 
He takes off back down the stairs, circling around the front of the stands and
doing a remarkable job of looking somewhat ruffled (especially after Ritsu’s
molestations). “Sir,” he breathes, grabbing for Keito’s arm. “I found him,
there’s a magical trail that directly leads to the half-blood. Also…” He
hesitates, licking his lips nervously. His gaze discretely flickers to the
side—following the prince, briefly—before he glances away again. “There’s
another thing, but I think that needs to be handled more delicately.”
 
Keito gives Mao a tight little smile. “You’re going to make fun of me, but I
was just looking to see where you were because my turn is up next. We’ll deal
with your instruction in a moment. If you...I mean, you don’t have to watch. It
doesn’t matter.”
 
“You…you’re actually going to compete this time?” Mao blinks a few times, then
beams, clasping both of Keito’s hands in his own. “Ahh, good, good! Of course
I’m going to watch! Good luck, I hope you crush the prince, he’s always the
favorite.”
 
Twin spots of color suddenly appear in Keito’s cheeks. He fights down a little
smile, clearing his throat as he turns away. “Yes, well. Choose a spot in the
stands, then. Make sure you have a good view, I’m going to crush that impudent
little gremlin. Ah, I mean, his royal and most respected Highness.”
 
“You better,” Mao matter-of-factly says, releasing Keito’s hands with a last
squeeze as he turns away. “I’ll be cheering for you, sir, I know your skill
with a bow is unmatched.”
 
Keito squeezes his own bow more tightly than he intends, embarrassed at Mao’s
wholehearted support. “Get into the stands,” he mutters, though he stands
straighter, thin chest puffing out slightly.
 
A herald strikes his bell, summoning him to the aiming line. His turn is a
thing of little fanfare; most of the people in the stands are just waiting to
watch the prince shoot. Keito spares the stands a single look, seeing most of
the eyes turned away--all but his foolish, redheaded apprentice, who for
whatever reason, looks excited to watch his teacher shoot a bow in front of an
audience.
 
“Idiot,” he mutters under his breath, and pulls the drawstring back to his ear,
stilling his breath. He breathes in deeply, letting his heartbeat slow, and
lets fly. The arrow’s head strikes just left of the target’s center, and he
nods in satisfaction. Of his three shots, only the final one strikes dead
center, but it’s such a clean hit that he can’t help but be proud of himself.
 
He turns, bowing to the tourney judge, then bowing to the king in his box
before striding to the readying circle, stripping off his gloves.
 
Mao, for his part, is already out of the stands, all but leaping down the
stairs to meet Keito with a smile. “You’re amazing, sir! I’d like to see the
prince beat that, even as talented as he is, there’s no match for your skill.
Ahaha, this is why I never try to run away from you, I’m certain you’ll just
shoot me down if I try~…”
 
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Keito feels himself flush with the praise, and allows
his mouth to quirk, a cocky little smile playing there. “I wouldn’t shoot you.
You aren’t Eichi. Hmm, and even if he is a decent archer, I doubt even the
prince--”
 
“Perfect shot!” the tourney judge calls, and Keito whips his head around,
watching Prince Leo pull another arrow casually, uncaringly from his quiver.
The Prince turns to wave to someone in the stands, and barely pauses to aim
before he shoots again, burrowing the head in less than a centimeter apart from
the first one. The third, released less than a second later, splits the first
arrow cleanly down the shaft.
 
Keito visibly deflates, face contorting in a scowl. “I’m going to have a
drink,” he grumbles. He moves to unstring his bow, but his arm muscles strain,
annoyed with him, and it takes two tries.
 
Mao heaves a sigh, shaking his head as he turns away from the scene. “Well,
some people just aren’t normal,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “Here,
sir, I’ll carry all of that for you. You solidly made second place, you know,
that’s really impressive! Gods know I can’t shoot worth a damn.”
 
“Stop licking my boots, they’re plenty clean,” Keito says with a huff, but
Mao’s protestations do soften the blow a bit. He shoves all of his gear into
the young man’s arms, feeling his shoulders starting to throb. “It’s my own
fault, I’ve been neglecting practice. I’ll start my efforts again. And you, you
should start your music again, it’s good discipline for the mind.”
 
Mao slings what he can over his shoulder, and balances the rest without
complaint. “I dunno, sir, your boots have gotten a bit dusty in this dry
weather,” he wryly quips back. “I don’t have the time for music, and that’s
fine. Ah, I still have a trace on the half-blood, did you want me to summon a
catcher, or…”
 
He stumbles from a brisk push from behind, and sharply suppresses the shudder
that rakes down his spine when every sense in his body starts tingling in
warning. Speaking of half-bloods. “Ah, sorry,” Izumi of the Sena house
dismissively says, already striding away without looking back at him. “Get out
of the way, though. Nice job, Milord! You’ve got half a dozen girls wanting to
give you flowers, I’ll help you pick the prettiest one!”
 
“Some nobles are just so rude,” Mao mutters, huffing out a breath as he quickly
steps after Keito again. “Or it is most nobles…ugh, the capital’s so
stressful.”
 
“Where’s Ruka?” Keito hears, as the prince attempts to climb his apparent
companion. “I want to give her all the flowers that the others give me!
Wahaha!”
 
“I want to go back to the Academy,” Keito says dryly. “Just...point out the
half-blood so I know you’re paying attention. Mark him for later, then we’ll
make a tracking test out of it in a few days. Unless you think he’s immediately
dangerous?”
 
“The Academy’s no good either, because that Nightcloak is there right now and
in a foul mood because the necromancer is in a foul mood,” Mao wearily says. “I
can’t wait until they leave with Captain Arashi. And no, sir, I don’t think
he’s immediately dangerous. He’s old and hobbling, I think he’s mostly
interested in feeling up girls…”
 
“It’s an absolute travesty that we’re playing host to a necromancer in an area
so full of people, live people,” Keito mutters. “When I was young, in the old
king’s time, necromancers were put in a bear cart and sent up to the
Shadowlands.”
 
“I’m sure they were much less tame…” Mao carefully hedges. “Mika is well-
behaved, you know, in the skittish feral cat sort of way. His worst behavior is
just being moody from time to time. It’s Shu that I find much more difficult to
deal with, honestly…”
 
“I try not to dislike anyone just because they dislike me,” Keito says wearily,
“but for Shu, I will make an exception. He’s quite rude, and not nearly as
talented as he thinks he is.” He pauses, then adds, “I mean, obviously, he’s
more magically talented than I am, but what is that to boast about?”
 
Oh, goodness, you’re very wrong about his talent, sir, Mao thinks nervously,
but he smiles all the same, shrugging a bit. “He certainly is quite arrogant,
isn’t he? Again, it’s much more pleasant when they’re out with that captain.
Did you know he’s only fifteen? He looks like he’s at least nineteen, twenty,
something like that, I could hardly believe it.”
 
“Fifteen?” Keito asks, startled. He turns his head, but the Captain isn’t easy
to see at the moment, so he gives it up, walking briskly for a few steps, then
fading back to a more sedate pace as his knee starts twinging. “I swear, I’m
getting worse and worse at telling what age people are. How old are you now?”
 
“T…twenty three, sir,” Mao manages with a little laugh, shaking his hair out of
his face. “Old enough to buy you several drinks with my decent-enough salary,
if you like.”
 
“...I suppose that somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that,” Keito
mutters, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his spectacles. “My god. You’re
like, a real man, aren’t you?”
 
Now that he looks, he’s surprised to see that when he wasn’t looking, Mao had
indeed filled out quite a bit. His jawline is stronger, cheeks better defined,
shoulders broader, the awkward lines of his body settling into a mature
strength that Keito hadn’t really noticed.
 
His frown deepens, and he shakes his head. “Did I forget your birthday this
year? I swear I can’t remember twenty-three, so you see, my own age is
showing.”
 
Mao’s lips twitch into a wry smile. “I don’t really mind, birthdays aren’t
important.” They frustrate him, and remind him that he’s working for the
Academy that he hates so much, and so it’s better not to be reminded that he’s
another year older, another year bowing to the Emperor. “I think most of the
grey in your hair is from stress, sir, not your age.”
 
“Remind me to teach you how to lick boots properly,” Keito says dryly. “The
proper way would be to tell me that it was just a trick of the light in my
shaving mirror, and my hair is as dark as it’s ever been.”
 
“But honesty is the best policy, and I think you look very distinguished with
grey hair,” Mao says without skipping a beat. “It’s that sort of handsome-sexy
that people talk about professors and scholars having, you know?”
 
Keito snorts. “Yes, yes, I’ve been a starry-eyed lad that thought my professors
were the most distinguished creatures I’d ever seen. A word to the wise,
they’re rarely good in bed. You’d do better with someone who cares deeply about
you.”
 
“The assumption I have any time at all for romance, sir, is hilarious,” Mao
cheerfully replies. “But for the record, I’ve heard all the rumors about your
exploits, and it’s hard to believe you’re anything but capable.”
 
“I--rumors?” Keito flushes suddenly, and gives Mao a sidelong glance. As usual,
it’s difficult to tell when the boy is being charmingly guileless, and when
he’s making a careful, gentle mockery of his teacher. “Seriously? There are few
enough substances behind anything you’ve heard, unless--I mean, what have--it’s
absurd to think that anyone would even care about that sort of thing.”
 
“Hmm? Oh, everyone at the Academy loves to talk, you know that. Don’t worry, I
don’t spread any rumors, everyone just likes to come to me to gossip, though I
wonder why. With how much you talk about me licking your boots, though—that
gives some credence to the gossip, I have to admit…”
 
Keito’s eyes narrow. “Wait. I thought the gossip was about who I’d tumbled, not
about....my boots? I--”
 
His eyes widen suddenly, and he leans in, hissing, “If this is about last
Midwinter, the feet were his idea, I’d just planned on a massage, he’s a filthy
liar if he says anything else--”
 
Mao blinks back at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I see. That’s a rumor that I
don’t exactly remember, but thanks for clarifying all the same.”
 
“I knew it, you are playing with me,” Keito mutters, flicking Mao in the
forehead. “I knew no one cared anymore, that’s all a long time ago.”
 
Mao offers up an easy smile, unfazed by the familiar flick to his head. “I was
referring to the rumors about you and sex wizards, before that was all
illegal,” he brightly says, “but some of it just sounded s~o farfetched…heh,
guess I’ll never know, huh?”
 
“You’re an incorrigible brat,” Keito huffs, starting up the hill towards the
Academy, feeling his lungs start to tighten. “Just ask, you clearly want to.”
 
“Did you have a torrid love affair with sex wizards?” Mao pauses, and catches
Keito by the arm to still him. “Here,” he says, pushing the armful of equipment
into Keito’s arms as he better shrugs the rest onto one shoulder, and abruptly
bends to scoop Keito up and off of his feet into a rather neat princess carry.
“Your knee was bothering you earlier,” he lightly says, starting back up the
hill. Keito is not heavy, just sort of long, but he’s nothing compared to
Ritsu’s usual deadweight. “So let’s not strain it more than necessary.”
 
“Put me down!” Keito snaps, nearly kicking Mao in the face as he squirms out of
his arms, getting his feet firmly on the ground again. “I’m neither your lady
nor an invalid, yet. I’m not that old, dammit!”
 
He straightens his robes, sniffing. “And it wasn’t sex wizards. Just one.”
 
Mao rolls his eyes before he can stop himself, holding up his hands. “All
right, sir, if that’s what you prefer,” he says. “I was going to put you down
before we reached the Academy proper and give you a chance to tell me all of
your stories about Rei unhindered, but all right.”
 
“I’m not hindered,” Keito growls. “I’m just not...I’ve been focused on things
other than calisthenics lately, is all. Do you want to hear stories, or not?”
 
“By all means, sir, tell away.” As if I haven’t heard them before, regularly,
whenever Rei is feeling obnoxiously lonely. “If your knee starts bothering you
again, let me know.”
 
“I most certainly will not, if your reaction is to carry me like a maiden,”
Keito scoffs. “And I’m not telling to hear myself talk, you can ask if there’s
something you want to know about. I...” A thought occurs to him, and he flushes
slightly. “If you’re curious, I do have a few sketches in my rooms for
illustrations.”
 
“…The High Magistrate Keito sharing his own erotic artwork with me…how lewd.”
 
“I’ve changed my mind, you get no stories and you don’t get to see my room,
ungrateful wretch.”
 
“That’s not fair, I’m just teasing you!” Mao protests, rearranging all of
Keito’s equipment in his arms. Best not to mention how many times he’s
absolutely been in Keito’s private quarters in the Academy without Keito
knowing. “Is it true that you and Rei were…you know…lovers? In the actual
sense, not in the sex wizard sense where they can’t help it.”
 
Keito’s lips purse, but he’s weak to Mao’s pleading tone. “Fine, fine, you may
see a few. And...well. For what it’s worth.”
 
Suddenly a bit self-conscious, Keito looks away, up towards the Academy. “I
thought of it like that,” he says, voice soft. “I thought he did, too. But in
the end, I’ll never know what his true feelings were.”
 
“Do you believe in resonant bonds?” It’s a question to avoid asking within the
Academy itself, considering it can spark either a fiery debate amongst any
number of wizards, or encourage Eichi’s outright insistence of their existence
(and the ability to create them). “Because…if you do…well, maybe that explains
a few things, don’t you think?”
 
“I do. And it does. But...well. That won’t make it any easier if you ever
develop feelings for a wizard,” Keito warns quietly, “and they develop a bond
with someone else. They exist, though I do believe that many people simply
trick themselves into believing that they have one and acting accordingly. But
I don’t accept the nonsense about being unable to stop yourself from certain
behaviors just because you have a resonant bond.”
 
“I can’t imagine developing feelings for a wizard, sir, not after the amount of
time I spend with them and see all of their underlying issues,” Mao hastily
says. “Especially with resonant bonds. Ah…take Shu, for example; I think he
handles his situation quite well, all things considered, so I agree, certain
behaviors shouldn’t be simply accepted because of a bond’s existence. Though I
suppose it manifests differently amongst different pairs…for example, I dread
the day, if it ever comes, when Mika has that sort of attachment—when he
doesn’t want to do something, he bites, and I really don’t like the idea of
having to remove him from a bonded’s presence.”
 
“I’m just saying. Bear cart, Shadowlands,” Keito says darkly. They finally
crest the hill, and he wrenches the door to the tower open, leading Mao up the
stairs to his study. His own room is at the back, a small, unassuming door
connecting the two rooms. He unlocks it both with silver key and a muttered
spell, letting both of them inside.
 
“It isn’t much, but we’re not supposed to have much,” he says, looking around
at the rather barren room. A cot-style bed, a brazier against the cold, a basin
for washing, a wardrobe for his robes, and a desk for writing and drawing is
all the furniture he owns. “Have a seat, bed or floor. Sorry it’s boring in
here.” At least he’d made the bed this morning.
 
Yep, hasn’t changed since the last time I snuck in here to pull out a page from
your scheduling.Mao carefully deposits all of Keito’s archery equipment into a
corner before he drops down neatly onto the edge of Keito’s bed. “Sometimes I
forget how little time we actually spent up North, and how quickly you ushered
me down to the Academy proper—you were awfully keen on having an apprentice, no
matter how much you complained to Rei about it, huh?”
 
The little smile is back, but it’s less satirical this time, more warm. “I’ve
always...not minded children,” Keito admits. “He was always good at exploiting
my weaknesses and soft spots. And it did help that he brought me a sharp-
minded, talented, good-hearted child.”
 
“Not an ungrateful wretch?” Mao lightly teases in return, folding his hands
into his lap. He might tease, but the words do make guilt stab briefly into his
heart, making him glance away. Sometimes, it’s very easy to be irritated with
Rei, and now is one of those times. “I don’t think I’m all of those things,
sir, but thank you all the same. I just try to do my job and make yours
easier.”
 
“Don’t pick up my habit of self-deprecation,” Keito warns. “It won’t make you
happy in life. You can feel proud of the things you’ve done. I’m proud of you.
Ah, here.”
 
He unearths a battered old sketchbook, and rifles quickly through it before
handing it over. His palms are damp, face too hot. “There isn’t anything
terribly inappropriate in there, so you can look through. There--wait, there
might be some naked women towards the end.”
 
“Is it self-deprecation or modesty?” Mao archly replies, taking the sketchbook
with a wry smile. “Thank you, though. I’m glad you’re proud, I just…ah, never
mind, it’s not important.”
 
He flips open the sketchbook and sighs immediately. “Why did you come to work
for the Academy when you have talent like this? Not that working here isn’t
rewarding, but…”
 
“...Do you want the official story? Or the real story?”
 
“Both would be good so I can better lie to new recruits and threaten them about
how terrifying you are, I suppose.”
 
“Heh. Always good to frighten them.”
 
Keito leans back against his desk, and lets his eyes flick out the window. “My
family has always been priests. I was training to take over the temple when I
met Eichi. There are...things you don’t know about him, of course. He used to
be quite ill. When we met, the finest physicians in all the land couldn’t do
anything for him, and they were quite convinced he was on his way to the other
side of the black river. I was...oh, no older than you were when I first
apprenticed you. We hit it off, and he asked me to consider coming to work for
him. I didn’t just then, but eventually gave in, if only to keep him from
overextending himself.”
 
Unfortunately, I know far too much about him, Mao wearily thinks, and he slowly
flops to the side, making himself comfortable on Keito’s bed. “That sounds like
you. The Emperor is awfully fond of you.”
 
“I’d appreciate it if that supposed fondness manifested in not making my life
difficult,” Keito says dryly. “Rei...I met him...much later.”
 
He looks down at his hands, surprised with himself. “I’ve never told anyone
about this,” he says softly, realizing it as he speaks.
 
“You don’t have to,” Mao quietly says, his eyes lidding as he flips slowly
through Keito’s sketchbook. The drawings of Eichi are one thing, but the ones
of Rei quickly become more and more numerous, and, well—telling of Keito’s
interest. “But, mm, it’s not like I’ll go about repeating it.”
 
“It isn’t like it’s a great secret,” Keito says with a shrug, although it is.
Maybe if he can act casual about it, Mao won’t think it’s such a big deal.
“When I was fifteen, I was training to be a Watcher, but I...well, I hated it.
I thought it was a waste of time, not to mention an obnoxious career. I had it
in my head that I might leave the Academy completely and be a scribe, or even
an artist--foolish, I know, you don’t need to tell me. Eichi told me to watch
out for Rei, though, and...”
 
He shrugs helplessly. “I was intrigued. Wary, of course, but there was
something...different, about him. But I was careful. And in him, I saw...ah, it
doesn’t matter. But I suppose I could say...I never understood what magic was
supposed to be used for, before I met him, or how it could and should change
the world. I suppose that doesn’t make much sense, but that’s how I felt at the
time.”
 
“Sounds like the sort of thing the Emperor would have your head for these
days,” Mao softly points out, pausing on a full page illustration of Rei
sprawled across a bed much like this one, during one of his long hair phases,
apparently. Mao’s lips purse, and he turns the page, uninterested in seeing his
master look pleased with himself. “The magic he has is very different. It’s
still true that no wizard has ever bloomed like him, so I think what you’re
saying makes sense even just on that alone.”
 
“It’s not about that.” The words are a little sad, and Keito shakes his head at
himself. “It’s about the way he wants to use it. I bought in to the myth, I’ll
be honest. I let him bend my ear with his grand ideas, the way foolish young
men will, sometimes. But...well. I’ve made my choices, I suppose, and it’s too
late for talk like that. Anyway, I let him convince me that...how to put
this...”
 
He steeples his fingers in front of his mouth, thinking. “I told him about the
parts of the Academy that made me want to leave. He convinced me that it would
be better to be a part of it, even if I didn’t agree with all of their
policies, because I could improve it by being there. Nonsense, of course,
there’s little or nothing I could do. Well, except train you. I don’t doubt
that training you has been the most effective thing I’ve done, for the future.”
 
“Ahh…while I’m flattered, sir, I’m not really sure I’m the most effective
thing…” Mao carefully replies, glancing back over to Keito for a moment. “I
just try to do my job, and I don’t think that’s particularly special. There’s
some things I disagree with as well, of course, but…as you said, there’s not
much we can do to change it, if the Emperor wills it.”
 
Keito shrugs one shoulder. “Call me sentimental,” he says, waving a hand. “But
I think that your heart--bringing something like that into this space, with
your good soul, that’s the best thing I can do to change things right now. Ah,
keep turning, there are some of you in there, if you care.”
 
“I mean, I try to be as kind as I can to the wizards under my care, so I
suppose that counts for something,” Mao mutters, flipping past half a dozen
more doodles of Rei (that’s enough of him, thanks) before landing on the next
couple of pages which are, apparently, nothing but him. He blinks, tilting his
head. “Huh. You must really think I’m cute, sir. I don’t think I’m that cute.”
 
“Children are cute,” Keito says with a frown. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
 
“Uh huh. I’m definitely older here, though,” Mao says, holding up the
sketchbook, “so you must still think I’m cute.”
 
Silently, Keito grabs a piece of paper off the desk, crumples it into a ball,
and throws it at Mao’s face.
 
Mao lifts the sketchbook, and the paper bounces weakly off of the back of it.
“Violence is never the answer, sir. Wow, you’re good at drawing women, too.”
 
“Mm, thank you. I quite like the look of women,” Keito admits. He folds his
hands, then asks, “Have you ever been with one? You’re twenty-three, I assume
you must have by now.”
 
“A couple of times, when I was dragged out with Lord Ritsu and his friends and
it was sort of…compulsory,” Mao wryly says, shutting the sketchbook. “But I’ve
decided I’m too busy for courting and prostitutes alike. Women, especially
older women, like to touch me at inopportune times and that’s stressful.”
 
“A word of advice. Women aren’t worth it.”
 
“…Noted. I could have figured that out, though, when all they’re interested in
doing is grabbing my arse.”
 
“I do believe that the more magic flows through our veins, the less we find
intriguing about their curves,” Keito speculates. “I could be wrong, of course,
but between that and the natural sterility of wizards, it does seem as though
we’re bred to avoid the fairer sex. They’re lovely to draw, though. I used to
sketch them making love together whenever Eichi was ill, he does enjoy seeing
that.”
 
“Somehow, I’m not surprised at all,” Mao wryly says, shaking his head as he
sits up, pushing his hair out of his face. “If I’m being honest, I feel like
I’m becoming as invested in celibacy as the wizards are as time goes on…it’s
probably the overwork talking, heh. Men are fine to look at, but when you’re
spending all of your time around men that aren’t allowed to really interact
with you in that sort of fashion, I feel like something sort of shuts down.”
 
Keito’s smile is grim. “Well. We both know that public opinions on the
Emperor’s ban are not welcomed. Even in private, even those as highly-ranked as
we should be careful about commentary.”
 
“No commentary here~ just a remark about my own lack of interest as a result~”
Mao hums, though his mind drifts distractedly to Ritsu’s grabbing hands,
frustratingly soft lips whenever they press to his neck, and the sharpness of
those teeth. No, no, no, absolutely not. Rei had been terrifyingly firm about
how he felt about that sort of involvement with Ritsu. On the other side of the
spectrum, women—stressful and more aggressive than even Ritsu and typically
reeking in perfume that gives him headaches—or other men (older men)—
 
No, he needs to stop right there. “Anyway,” Mao exhales, re-pinning his hair
back from his face. “Workaholics anonymous here—we can go and do our rounds
together, if you like.”
 
Some of the stress lines that had faded from Keito’s face reappear, but less
deeply than before. “Sounds like a plan. Come on, then, I’ll treat you to a
sweet tea at the base shop when we’re done.”
 
“Careful, sir. You’re going to really spoil me at this rate.”
***** Chapter 12 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Holding an enormous bag of gold, the size of his own head, had been delightful.
It had been the first time Arashi had even seen so much gold in one place, but
even more fun than that had been spending it, finding sturdy armor and enormous
bags of grain, finding sleek horses and well-oiled carts to transport all of
his shiny new equipment. Seeing the looks of relief on his men’s face, though--
that had been worth far more than the enormous bag of gold royals, though he
does mourn slightly at the weight of the bag’s deflated feeling right now.
 
He finds his tent, which somehow feels like home after so long traveling, and
tosses his bag into the corner. Then he blinks, looking at the pile of poorly-
stitched plush toys taking over the real estate of his tent floor, and the
small figure curled up on his bed.
 
Quietly, he pulls out flint and steel, striking a spark in the oil lamp in the
corner before he kneels, touching messy black curls. “Mika, darling,” he
whispers. “Are you allowed to be here right now?”
 
Stirring slowly, Mika’s eyes crack open, taking a moment to focus and dilate in
the dim light. “This is where I told th’ transporter t’take me, and he left me,
so it must be fine,” he dreamily sighs, stretching out. “Plus, I couldn’t leave
my plushies alone, they’d be sad.” He pushes himself upright, throwing thin
arms around Arashi’s neck. “Nnn, kara…I missed you a lot.”
 
Guilt gnaws at Arashi’s chest. The last person in his arms hadn’t been Mika,
but Tsukasa, and he’d walked out of that with a fat sack of gold, something
that now makes him feel disconcertingly like a prostitute. “I have to tell you
something,” he whispers, voice quavering a little.
 
“Mmn? Okay.” Mika draws back to blink up at him, his brow furrowing. “Y’look
stressed,” he says. “Do I gotta hurt someone?”
 
“Maybe me?” Arashi says quietly, trying and failing for levity. “I...I did
something...I made love to someone.” He twists his hands in his lap, stomach
churning. “Someone else.”
 
Mika blinks back at him, his head tilting slowly. “O…kay,” he carefully
replies, not entirely understanding why Arashi looks so upset. “Um. Was it real
bad or somethin’?”
 
“No! I mean, it’s bad now, because I’m sad to have to tell you about it,”
Arashi admits.
 
Mika pauses again, trying to wrap his mind around this entire concept, and
admittedly failing. “Wait. Are you like…in love with him?”
 
“Absolutely not!” Arashi protests, scandalized. “I’m in love with you, I’ve
always been in love with you!”
 
“Then, um, why are you even mentionin’ it?” Mika asks, confusion making his
head tilt, rather birdlike, to the other side. “Kara…men wanna put their dick
in things. You can’t put it in me, so it ain’t like I expect y’to never fuck
anyone else. But you should at least do it in front of me next time, so I can
get off, too.”
 
Arashi sits back, stunned. “You...you don’t mind? I--I don’t love him, I don’t
care about him, I was just weak, you’re the one I adore, you know that, right?”
 
“Kara.” Mika leans forward, clapping his hands to Arashi’s cheeks. “If you
don’t love him, I don’t care. Got it? You’re like, a soldier and stuff, it’d be
weird if you never went out and fucked anyone, isn’t that kinda what soldiers
do? It’s all they do in the Sandlands, lemme tell you.”
 
“Seriously?” Arashi demands, mystified. “But......I’ve never...I mean, I’ve
never done anything like that before.”
 
“Eh? Really?” Mika blinks back at him. “You mean…you were a virgin? Seriously?”
 
“I mean...” No, a dark part of his mind whispers, but he shoves that back under
lock and key, where it belongs. “Yeah,” he lies, mentally reciting three names
that will die by his blade one day.
 
Mika’s head cocks, studying Arashi’s face for a moment. Lying, he’s lying. It’s
not worth mentioning—if Arashi doesn’t want to talk about it, it must be no
good—so Mika just sighs, rocking back after poking Arashi’s nose with the tip
of a freshly painted nail. “Well, now you ain’t. Seriously, I ain’t got a
problem with y’goin’ out and havin’ fun, that’s what men do. Jus’ don’t fall in
love with anyone else.”
 
Arashi grabs Mika’s face in turn now, all false emotions banished from his
face, leaving nothing behind but deadly, cold truth. “You will always be the
first thing in my heart,” he whispers, with the air of an oath.
 
Mika’s breath hitches, and he feels himself shake, the intense urge to lurch
forward and grab Arashi and kiss him making it feel as if he’s being torn in
two. He bites down onto his trembling lower lip, dropping his gaze.
“You…y’can’t say things like that and expect me to behave,” he manages with a
ragged laugh, reaching up to grab at Arashi’s wrists, clinging to them.
 
Arashi’s heart skips a beat, then another, and he forces Mika down to the bed
again, then throws a blanket over him, including his head. “Sorry. Just...stay
there for a moment, until I can...control myself, please.” After making love to
someone else, it’s so much more vivid in his mind, how he could bear Mika down,
how it would feel to kiss and stroke and touch, how it would feel to be inside
him.
 
A huffy little whimper escapes from underneath the blanket, and Mika kicks and
squirms, the top of his head poking out, followed by his stare shortly after.
“Now that you’ve done it, y’can tell me better how you’d do it to me,” he
hopefully suggests, fidgeting a little. “‘Cause…now y’know what it feels like
inside of someone, right?”
 
“Absolutely,” Arashi assures him, reaching up fondly to tousle his hair. “Now I
can tell you all about how I’d grab your hips and pull you down, and how sweet
it would feel when my fingertips sank into the skin...I mean, you’ve got a lot
less, um, I mean, my fingers wouldn’t sink in as far--not that he’s fat, but--”
 
“A squishy noble, then.” Mika’s head pokes out the rest of the way, butting
against Arashi’s hand, and his tongue sticks out. “Did he give you all that
gold ‘cause he thought you were sexy? Nnn, this isn’t fair, now I’m horny,” he
complains, twisting over onto his stomach with a huff. “Master’s been all riled
up the past few weeks so he’s been no fun, either. I’m dyin’.”
 
Arashi’s hand trembles with the temptation to run his thumb over that peeking-
out tongue, but he forces it to just keep stroking through Mika’s hair. “He’s
the one who gave me the gold, but it wasn’t for the sex, or anything,” he
assures him. “It’s...”
 
His tongue stops.
 
He frowns, and tries again. “He did it--”
 
It happens again, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. For a moment, he
can’t breathe, and he sits back, eyes wide and panicking before it unsticks. He
gasps in a breath, coughing a little, pulse pounding in his ears.
 
Mika pauses, twisting his head around to watch Arashi for a long moment while
he catches his breath, and his eyes narrow. “…You did a blood pact,” he
breathes, and bolts upright, crawling over, suddenly far too close with his
hands on Arashi’s thighs. “You can give his name, right? The noble? If he was a
regular human, he couldn’t’ve done this, so, another wizard, then…”
 
Arashi’s eyes dart around the tent, breath still quick. “Can I? I’m scared to
say it, what if he doesn’t let me breathe at all next time?”
 
“Umm…I don’t think blood pacts work like that? You ain’t gonna die, you jus’
can’t give away what he won’t let you give away,” Mike reassures him. “I won’t
ask about what y’all talked about, I jus’ wanna know who it was with.”
 
“The Suou family,” Arashi says carefully, but when his tongue doesn’t stick, he
relaxes a little. “The son, Tsukasa. I...guess I won’t tell you what for, but I
honestly don’t think it’s anything bad, I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”
 
“Ooooh. Wow, no wonder you came back with a lot of money,” Mika says, blinking
as he sits back, his hands sliding to rest on Arashi’s knees. “We’ve both been
busy while we’ve been apart, huh? Somethin’ weird happened with Master and I,
too.” He hesitates, tilting his head to the side, listening for a moment. “Nnh,
I wish that watcher was around, then I could tell you.”
 
Arashi cocks his head to the side. “You actually want him around? Ah, can you
tell me...sort of carefully? Like in code, or maybe write it down?”
 
“I’m not good at talkin’ in code,” Mika complains, worrying at his lower lip
for a moment. “Yeah, gimme paper, I’ll write it down. It’s important, and I
don’t wanna wait until he’s lurkin’ around to tell you.”
 
Arashi rolls to the side, grabbing for a scroll of parchment with some
uninteresting text on the front, and grabs a pen and ink, passing them over.
“Take your time, I’m going to get into my comfortable clothes,” he assures
Mika, standing up to start undressing.
 
Mika watches him distractedly, because suddenly, explaining their run-in with
Mao is less important. “Turn around when y’do it,” he says, waving his borrowed
quill. “I wanna see your back muscles. And ass. Thanks.”
 
“I’m turning,” Arashi says with a laugh, “but only because I don’t want you
staring at my cock, or I’m going to get us both killed.”
 
He turns, stripping, then quickly puts on a nightshirt, plopping down onto the
ground next to Mika. “There. Now behave and write me an explanation.”
 
Mika rolls his eyes, and out comes the tongue again, poking out as he writes
out, in surprisingly neat, floating script (absolutely reeking of Shu’s
teaching and nitpicking), a brief, but necessary explanation:
 
The watcher Mao is a spy. He even delivered a message from Master’s lover to
him. His lover is really anti-Emperor and anti-Academy. There might be a war,
eventually.
 
“See why I couldn’t say it out loud?” he softly says, turning the paper around
to hold it up for Arashi. “You gotta burn this when we’re done, or Master could
get in a lot of trouble.”
 
Arashi nods slowly, then picks up the pen, writing in a far slower, less-
educated script, with odd angles and blotches dotting the page:
 
Had a feling. Tsukasa said smthing about it. Still cant bee trusted too protect
us thou.
 
Mika pauses for a moment, wondering if he should bring this up at all, then
gives up and tugs the paper back.
 
What do you know about the Demon King?
 
“Probably better if you don’t answer that, actually,” he murmurs, exhaling a
sigh. “But…that’s who Master is…y’know. With. Don’t say th’ name out loud, I
just call him the old man friend.”
 
“If it helps, I’ve never heard the name,” Arashi admits, grabbing the paper and
tossing it into the fire. “I’ll keep it in mind if I ever do, though. I think
my new friends, by the way? Could be really good friends in the future, and not
just with gold.”
 
Mika rocks back, tilting his head. “There was more than one? Eh, I guess there
had to be, the Suou family doesn’t have wizards…who was the other one? If
they’re a wizard, they’re really in hidin’…nnnh, I wish they’d teach me how to
do that…”
 
“I...don’t think I can really say,” Arashi warns. “But yes, there were two,
though I only...took liberties with one of them.”
 
“Kara, y’know I was a whore, right? Like. You can be pretty blunt and I ain’t
gonna be bothered. Unless you say they were better than I’d be, or prettier,
stuff like that, then I’ll get mad.”
 
“Every single part of you is better, lovelier, and more desirable than him,”
Arashi says flatly. “Come on, love, you know how I feel, don’t you? You don’t
have to keep asking, I promise.”
 
“I jus’ like hearin’ you say it.” Mika flops forward, draping half off of
Arashi’s bed and over his shoulders. “You gotta fuck someone in front of me at
some point, though,” he breathes. “I wanna watch.”
 
“You pick them,” Arashi suggests, nuzzling into Mika’s hair. “Then you’ll know
they aren’t more beautiful than you, and that I’m not choosing anyone because I
want them. Um, but don’t pick anyone really ugly, I’ll go soft.”
 
“Mm, I’ve got good taste, don’t worry. I don’t wanna watch you fuck someone
ugly, anyway.” Mika buries his face into Arashi’s hair, inhaling deeply, and
his painted nails dig briefly into Arashi’s shoulders before he forces himself
to let go through sheer will alone. “I gotta go before I start doing stupid
things,” he whispers, wiping a hand down his face. “You smell good and I wanna
lick you.”
 
“Get out of my tent,” Arashi groans, rolling over until he’s facedown, face
pressed against the tent’s canvas floor. “I’ll die if you don’t.”
 
“You’ll die? I’m gonna die,” Mika bemoans before he hauls himself to his feet
and scoops up Arashi’s discarded coat. “Taking this,” he pointedly says. “Take
care of my plushies ‘till I come back.”
 
“Yes, sir,” Arashi grunts, not trusting himself to roll back over until Mika is
completely gone.
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
“Captain, you can’t leave yet.”
 
Tsukasa doesn’t like being directly involved in this sort of thing. There’s a
great deal at stake for him; if anyone were to find out about any of the plots
he has even touched in the past two and a half years, his entire family’s
livelihood would likely be forfeit. That being said, it’s easier for him to
maneuver his way through society than both Arashi and Ritsu combined, and that
means now, standing in the doorway of Arashi’s visiting suite within the
palace, he has to be the one to do something and explain a touchy situation.
 
Arashi is on a schedule. Tsukasa knows this. He has to get back to his men
sooner, rather than later, but that doesn’t mean that he can leave just yet—not
with everything so finely balanced and at a tipping point. He sucks in a quick
breath, and steps inside, pulling the door shut behind himself. “I realize
you’re packing literally right now and set to leave within the hour,” he
carefully says, “but I need you to attend a hearing at court. And no, you can’t
say no.”   
 
Arashi starts to pull a face, but he’s gotten far, far better at reminding
himself that Men Don’t Do That, not in public, not where people can see him.
It’s taken years for him to get a good handle on what’s allowed and not allowed
in public, but his reputation is solid these days, all of his ‘mannerisms’
explained away by the folly of his youth. It makes him sick inside, but he can
live through it. He has to, for himself, for his future, for his men. For Mika.
 
Instead, he sighs, leaning back against a wood-paneled wall. “A hearing at
court? Sounds boring. What do I get out of this?”
 
“The one man closest to the prince in your army.”
 
Tsukasa steps closer, violet eyes bright. “I understand the timing isn’t as
convenient as it could be, but we saw a chance, and we had to take it. Lord
Izumi—he played right into our hand, and set up this situation perfectly. He’s
slated to be sent back to the North and removed from his position in the
capital today if no one steps in and speaks on his behalf, and, well, he’s
already alienated every possible high-ranking noble in the capital by refusing
to be their squire. You need to speak for him and have him join your ranks.”
 
“What’s he being tried in court for?” Arashi asks, trying not to immediately
refuse. “I don’t like the idea of insubordination in my ranks.” It’s the kind
of thing that would never have occurred to the green Captain of fifteen years
old, but he’s seen things now, he’s heard his men dying too often, he’s had to
execute some of them himself, and doesn’t care to do so again.
 
“He, hmm. He punched a full-blooded knight in the face. But,” Tsukasa hastily
continues before Arashi can immediately refuse, “the whole situation was
deliberately arranged so that he would, so that this could happen, you see. Not
that he’s aware of that, or needs to be made aware, but the important thing is
that he starts working for you—with you.”
 
Arashi’s eyes narrow. “Will he follow orders? My orders? You know what sort of
commander I am. Will he chafe under that, or can I rely on him? If he’s a scion
of the North, I understand that sort of person to be quite...hard-headed. And
if he’s that important, he’s going to want a leadership position, and I’d be
offering his home province an insult by not giving him one.”
 
“Arashi,” Tsukasa wearily begins, “the most interaction I’ve had with him is
once, he met me at a ball, deliberately forgot my name five minutes after I
told it to him, and stole my dancing partner for the night. I know he’s one of
the best duelists in the capital and very, um, opinionated, but none of this
matters and I’m sorry, but none of what you just saidmatters either because if
you don’t snatch him up, our plans are ruined.” He grabs Arashi by the
shoulders, glaring up at him. “He’s going to be the next Captain of the
Kingsguard. Get him, I swear to god.”
 
Arashi’s jaw sets. “You owe me,” he says with a glare, shaking Tsukasa off of
his shoulders. “I’ll send a message when I want to collect on it. Don’t
forget.”
 
Then he turns on his heel and strides into the courtroom, settling into the
uncomfortable seats prepared for the nobility. A few of the other nobles in
attendance nod at him; that’s a good sign, something he hadn’t even noticed he
wasn’t getting years ago. Now, of course, he’s One Of Them, something he hadn’t
even known he’d needed to be.
 
The man Tsukasa had talked about is easy to spot, and Arashi mentally grimaces.
He looks like he’ll be a handful, with a sour expression and the permanent look
of someone who doesn’t know why everyone is so mad at him when he obviously
hadn’t meant any harm.I might have to beat that out of him, he thinks wearily,
and stands for the young man’s sentencing. “I’ll take custody of the brat,” he
calls, making the magistrate turn. “I need more bodies to throw at the
Inglings.”
 
Izumi’s head jerks up, his too-blue stare red-rimmed and sharp as it fixes upon
Arashi for a hot moment. Far from being his usual, put-together self, his hair
is unbound and mussed, and he has a permanent sulk on his face, as well as a
handkerchief stuffed to his running nose as he tries not to sniff and sneeze
publicly. The magistrate, for his part, looks Arashi up and down, skeptical.
“Lord Arashi—of the Sharps, was it? This isn’t precisely a case that can be
relegated to army service…”
 
“Perhaps it would do the wretch good,” pipes up one Lord Henessey dryly, an
older, finely dressed gentleman a few rows in front of Arashi. “And he’d learn
a thing or two about taking orders.”
 
“Shove off,” Izumi mutters underneath his breath.
 
“What was that, boy?”
 
“I take orders just fine if it’s from someone with half a brain. Which wasn’t
the case this morning—“
 
“Yes, you’ve already had your opportunity to speak, that’s enough,” the
magistrate snaps, and Izumi settles back, shifting in obviously ill-contained
frustration before he sneezes, and then growls underneath his breath like a
furious cat.
 
“What’s better in this case?” Arashi counters, leaping over the balcony
bannister and landing lightly on his feet, hearing a ripple of startled
surprise run through the finely dressed men and women of the audience. He walks
a fine line--just audacious enough to keep them off balance about his origins
and behavior, just proper enough to be dismissed as someone who’ll play by the
rules. As if he hadn’t just jumped down three meters to land in the aisle, he
asks conversationally, “To send him back to the North in exile to his mother’s
skirts? Or to do some use for his country. He’s always boasting about that
skill of his with a blade, let him prove it.”
 
He hears the expected dark chuckles from a few Lords and Ladies, with a few
exceptions--the men that Arashi knows well are hotheaded, the ones that love
dueling. From what he’s heard about Izumi, he’s probably beaten those already.
 
The magistrate’s stare is an unimpressed one, but he sighs all the same after a
moment’s consideration, and stamps down his mon onto the parchment in front of
him before rolling it, and sealing it. “There’s no need for you to put on such
a show, Lord Arashi,” he says, leaning over to hand the scroll to Arashi.
“You’ve spoken for him, consider him in your custody. One step out of line,
however, and it’s your head as much as his.” He glances over to Izumi. “Well,
up with you, boy. And thank him, while you’re at it.”
 
Izumi climbs to his feet, but he doesn’t as much as bow his head, his nose
turned up instead. “Thank you, Lord Arashi, for your generosity,” he
sarcastically says, and promptly stalks down the aisle towards the door.
 
Damn. Can’t have that. There are already a few knowing smirks from the
assembled nobles, some of whom clearly think that Arashi won’t be able to keep
him in line. Arashi’s hand shoots out faster than most humans could manage,
grabbing Izumi by the back of the collar in an iron grip, then forces him to
turn around and bow to the magistrate. He’s stronger than he used to be, and
brings some of that to bear now, forcing Izumi’s head down. “Don’t worry, boy,”
he says cheerfully, nodding his own head towards the magistrate. “I’ll make a
proper soldier of you yet. Now come saddle my horse.”
 
The hiss that escapes from between Izumi’s teeth is less effective when trying
to shove away from Arashi is about as effective as shoving a brick wall. He
bites back a growl, but he doesn’t bother fighting back again, no matter the
low, simmering anger behind his stiffly held bow.
 
A noblewoman, apropos of nothing, throws herself towards the bannister. “Lord
Izumi! Lord Izumi, please take care!”
 
…which starts a whole lady’s congregation of sorts, including some women that
were otherwise attached to their husband’s sides now calling for him. “Let me
go so I can leave,” Izumi mutters underneath his breath, trying to shrug his
way out from underneath Arashi’s hand as he straightens. “Before they literally
kill you for doing this.”
 
Arashi throws a calculated wink over his shoulder at one of the women, which is
hopefully all he’ll have to do this week to make people think he wants to bed
one. He leaves his hand on the base of Izumi’s neck, and says aloud, loud
enough to be heard, “Wave goodbye to your ladies, now. Let them know I’ll
return the boy as a man.”
 
“They already know I’m a man, thanks.”
 
Izumi shoves away, now seething to the point that he can’t contain the scarcely
suppressed rage. He barely manages to step outside of the courtroom before
whirling on Arashi, his watery eyes and running nose not exactly making the
most effective glare in the world. “I’m not your boy, and I’m not your damned
squire,” he snaps. “The hell was that—I’d rather have been exiled!”
 
Arashi looks around, but it’s impossible to tell whether they’re still being
overheard, so he holds the charade in place, striding towards the stables.
“That’s because you’re spoiled and ungrateful,” he informs Izumi, voice loud.
“But I’ll toughen you up, or you’ll fall to the Inglings. Now do as you’re told
and saddle my horse.”
 
“Saddle it yourself, I have a date with the prince.” Izumi blows his nose as he
pointedly turns in the opposite direction, not sparing a single glance back to
Arashi. “I’ll meet up with you when you’re about to leave and not before.”
 
Arashi steps fast, face to face with Izumi, eyes challenging as he mentally
eviscerates Tsukasa. “Take one more step,” he says quietly, settling into a
fighting stance, “and you’ll have to go through me. Go. Saddle. My. Horse.”
 
Izumi stares up at him, his jaw set in a hard, firm line. It takes effort not
to reach down for his sword—not there, not at the moment, but he might be able
to rip Arashi’s off his damn hip if he’s fast enough. “…Fine,” he eventually
grinds out, “but then I’m going to meet with him, or I’m asking him here, and
he’ll tell you to leave us alone so we can talk before you drag me off to
something I didn’t fucking want.”
 
“Go saddle my horse,” Arashi repeats, eyes flashing, “and then you have half an
hour to be on your own, at my side.”
 
Izumi’s lips purse and he turns away, yanking out a hair tie from his pocket to
pull the mess back from his face as he stalks back towards the stables. “You
think highly of yourself for a noble I’ve barely fucking heard of,” he mutters,
and he sneezes again, grabbing a stableboy on his way in before Arashi can stop
him. “Go chase the prince down from his ride, will you?” he casually asks, and
with a brisk shove forward, the boy is gone.
 
Arashi shakes his head, stalking off to find Tsukasa and bully him a little
before he leaves.
 
Just a moment later, Leo dashes up, eyes full and upset, coming to a skidding
halt in front of Izumi. “Is it true?” he demands, voice hoarse. “Did those
bastards trick you into doing something that got you sent away? I’ll kill them,
I swear--”
 
“Shh, shh, keep your voice down.” Izumi yanks Leo into his own horse’s stall,
pulling the door shut firmly behind them. “I don’t know anything about them
tricking me, but they probably did, knowing their opinions,” he admits, turning
his head aside to wipe his nose again. If this is the reward he gets for being
up all night for four nights running on foal watch, catching a cold, and then
punching a so-called knight for trying to abuse his horse, then honestly, fuck
the entire capital. “I wish I had just gotten exiled,” he manages with a sour
laugh. “Instead, some high and mighty military commander spoke up for me. I
don’t even know the asshole, what the hell.”
 
“Military?” Leo frowns, thinking. “If it’s Captain Arashi--I know he’s in the
Capital, I’ve heard of him. He’s got quite a reputation...” He worries at his
bottom lip, then pitches forward, thunking his head against Izumi’s chest. “But
that’s in the West. It’s dangerous out there.”
 
“Yeah, that’s the guy,” Izumi mutters, wrapping his arms tightly around Leo to
drag him in closer. “Complain and demote me to stableboy or something,” he
exhales into Leo’s hair. “Then I won’t have to go.”
 
Leo sniffs, feeling shaky, overwhelmed. “I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs,
hands going around Izumi’s waist. “But you’d be such a bad stableboy.”
 
“If it was just the horses I had to deal with, I’d be fantastic,” Izumi huffs.
He squeezes Leo so hard it lifts him off of his feet, and he abruptly shoves
Leo back into the wall of the stall to kiss him soundly. “Let’s run away,” he
murmurs, his eyes glittering. “Right now. I’ve had enough of this, fuck the
capital, fuck your father, fuck everything.”
 
“Mm,” Leo says with a sigh, wrapping his arms around Izumi’s neck. “Sounds
nice, doesn’t it? We can go up North and be terribly scandalous--oooh, or we
can change our names! And become pirates, and go to the moon!”
 
“No. The only thing—“ Izumi turns his head aside, stifling a sneeze into his
hand. “Ugh. Sorry. The only thing I agree with there is going North. No pirates
especially. I…” He trails off, biting his lip, suddenly overwhelmed by the idea
of leaving Leo, more than anything else. His eyes water, and he sniffs,
glancing away. “This isn’t fucking fair,” he miserably says. “Who’s going to
take care of your sorry arse if I’m gone? Look at you, you’re…”
 
“Hey.” Leo pokes Izumi’s chest, pulling back slightly to look up into his face.
“I’m totally good at being a human, you know. I’m in charge, I’m the prince, I
have plenty of people to watch my arse whether I want them or not. I...but
you’re...you’re going to a war.” His voice quavers, and he swallows hard. “Your
magic blood or whatever had better keep you safe, you hear? I’d...I don’t know
what I’d do if you.....”
 
“I’m not going to die.” Izumi sniffs again, wiping at his nose. “I’m too good
for that. And I know you say you’re fine, but you don’t deserve to be here all
alone, and you are, no one else…no one else takes care of you and it pisses me
off.”
 
Leo darts a speculative look around, then grabs Izumi by the collar, yanking
him down for a long, searching kiss. He slides his hands down, then drags them
up under Izumi’s shirt, cold fingers dragging over Izumi’s stomach. “I’ll be
fine,” he says firmly, nuzzling his nose against Izumi’s. “Go become famous,
yeah? If you’re a war hero, no one will care about the rest of it.”
 
“You’re the worst,” Izumi mumbles, grabbing Leo’s face again to kiss him again
firmly. He sucks in a slow, shaky breath, shutting his eyes as he rests his
forehead against Leo’s. “I have to go deal with this asshole’s horse, and then
pack—gods, I hate this. I’ll write you when I can.”
 
Leo’s mouth tightens into a tight, unhappy line. “I’m gonna come visit, if I
can. I’m about to start my tour of every dominance, but...I’ll find time.”
 
“If you visit me in a war zone, I’ll punt your cute arse all the way back to
the capital,” Izumi growls, reaching around to pinch Leo. “Wait for me where
it’s safe, I’ll find you.”
 
Leo pouts. “Now you’re just being rude. I didn’t become the prince just to get
pinched and left behind!”
 
Izumi pauses, glancing out over the stall door, and idly shoves Leo up against
it with a hand against his chest. “I wonder—do I have time to do more than just
pinch you? We can find out. Sorry if I sneeze on you, but I’m not really
sorry.”
 
Leo’s breath hitches, and he reaches down, loosening his laces and kicking his
trousers off in less than a second. He wraps his thighs around Izumi’s waist,
and drags his face close. “Spit on your cock and put it in now,” he growls,
squirming around to try to yank at Izumi’s laces. “I’ll be real fast, I
promise.”
 
“You’re always fast,” Izumi manages with a breathless laugh, hoisting Leo up
and pressing closer as he helps loosen his own laces. “Be sweet, though,” he
murmurs against Leo’s ear, tilting his head to suck on the side of his neck as
he pulls his cock free, his eyes fluttering as he drags his hand down it. “Let
your bastard page enjoy you properly.”
 
“You’re--already hard,” Leo groans, nails starting to dig into Izumi’s scalp,
then turning his fingers, gently dragging just the finger pads over his head.
“Feels good, feels--like you really want to be in me, right? My bastard page,
you want to make your prince feel good, don’t you?”
 
“You’re the worst,” Izumi huffs, his breath hot against Leo’s throat before he
pulls back for just a second, spitting into his palm and dragging that down the
length of his cock. Precome beads just at the tip, and Izumi’s breath hitches
as he shifts, the slick head of his cock nudging against Leo’s hole. “I guess I
have just enough time to enjoy you, huh?” he breathes, his hands dragging down
to squeeze Leo’s ass, holding him tightly in place as he thrusts up, gritting
his teeth against the sudden tight squeeze and the groan that threatens to
leave his throat.
 
Whatever Leo was going to say dies in his mouth, transmuted to a rough,
shuddering groan. His legs feel weak, but he wraps them around Izumi’s waist
anyway, pulling him in tighter even as it’s far, far too much. He’s hardly
ready, he’s not slick enough, Izumi feels too big, and all of that makes him
whine desperately, trying not to squeal. “You’re--you feel so good,” he groans.
“This is a perfect--going away, eh? Maybe you’ll--get a surprise when you come
h-home...”
 
Izumi muffles a curse into Leo’s hair, burying his face there as his grip
tightens and he yanks Leo down as he shoves up, burying his cock inside until
there’s nowhere else for it to go. “Then we’ll really have a reason to run away
together, huh?” he pants out, his nails biting into Leo’s skin as he rocks up,
grinding in more slowly now that Leo’s wrapped around him and his cock is
throbbing, aching when surrounded by how hot Leo is inside. “Gods—you’re so
tight, no matter how many times we do this.”
 
“Got to be tight for you,” Leo groans. He tries to talk more, but just manages
to pant, tongue hanging out a little, drool dripping down his mouth and onto
Izumi’s shoulder. “So you don’t--get bored of me, yeah? Got to stay your--
favorite--broodmare--”
 
Izumi sucks hard on the side of Leo’s neck, too absorbed in fucking up into him
for a moment to even talk. When he finally does, he’s breathless, his voice
catching up in his throat with every other word, and he manages to slide a hand
up to Leo’s nipples, twisting one of them between his fingers. “If you’re not
knocked up when I get back,” he rasps, “I’m going to keep you locked up and
fuck you until you are. Being a good little mare—t-that’s what you’re made for,
right?”
 
With a gasp and a squeal, Leo comes over his belly between them, Izumi’s words
thundering in his ears. His head thunks back against the wood of the stable
door, and his fingernails dig in deep, drawing blood from the back of Izumi’s
neck. “Come in me,” he whines, eyes fluttering madly.
 
It isn’t like he needs any encouragement—not when Leo is clinging to him, his
nails raking against his skin, his voice in his ear all squeaky and
breathless—and Izumi shoves up hard, gasping against Leo’s hair when he comes,
slick and messy and buried inside as far as he can go.
 
“Fuck,” he groans, slumping forward, his legs wobbling for a moment before he
steadies himself with a hand shoved agains the stall door. “Gods…Leo, fuck,
you’re perfect…”
 
“You got the best part of me,” Leo murmurs, leaning up to kiss Izumi’s hair,
trembling. “Take it with you. My heart, I mean, not my arse.”
 
“Both are good,” Izumi lowly teases as he catches Leo’s mouth with his own.
“But…mmn, the heart’s the one I’m taking with me, you’re right.”
 
Leo’s eyes sting, and he kisses back, letting his legs droop down to rest on
the floor. “Keep it next to yours. They’d better both be safe the next time I
see you.”
 
“That’s the plan,” Izumi softly says, rubbing a thumb slowly across one of the
hickeys he left on Leo’s neck, making it vanish with only a vague, throbbing
ache of a headache to follow. The scratches on his back sting, but he refuses
to let them heal, no matter the focus that takes. “I’ll come back to you. I
promise.”
***** Chapter 14 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Mika has not stopped sulking for a solid week.
 
But finally, finally, Izumi isn’t lurking around the tent he shares with Shu
first thing in the morning. Why Shu wanted Izumi around in the first place
never made sense, but it’s been worse and worse as Izumi has gradually taken
over every single activity Shu used to only do with him—but with more gusto,
because pretty silver hair and long legs and full lips and a brilliant smile
apparentlymeans that even Shu, paranoid, nervous Shu, will strip down and—
 
Mika snuffs out the irritated, violet-colored flames that threaten to destroy
his newest sewing project, and tries not to think about that anymore.
 
He has bigger concerns. Namely, Arashi seems to like Izumi too much as well,
and that’s…stressful. If he thinks about it for too long, it’s enough to make
his magic hard to control in the ways it hasn’t been since his first years of
training in the Academy, and that frightens him. The threat of being shipped
back to the Academy courtesy of jealousy makes him anxious to the point of
disfunction, and today, he huddles up in a pillow fort that he never wants to
leave, sewing quickly enough that he pricks the same finger twice, and glowers
at Shu from across the tent.
 
“If you have something to say, and holding it inside is making your work as
sloppy as it looks,” Shu says, not looking up from his own sewing project, a
replacement Nightcloak for Wataru (who had worn out the wing-holes in his
current model), “then please vent it. Outside, if possible, but to me if you
must. The constant sighing is giving me indigestion.”
 
Never mind. This is his current, biggest concern, Mika is certain of that, and
his lower lip wobbles immediately at the thought. He opens his mouth, then
shuts it again, offering an unhappy little noise instead before diving
underneath his pile of blankets, a huddled, miserable little lump.
 
“If you make me guess what you’re upset about,” Shu says, dipping his needle
swiftly into his cloak, “you will not enjoy it. I’ve just looked over your
body, I know you aren’t injured or ill.”
 
Another, displeased little noise escapes from Mika’s pile. He shifts again,
restless. “…Why d’you like him so much?” he finally asks, forcing his tongue to
move when it feels like lead in his mouth.
 
“Who? I don’t like anyone. Except sometimes you.”
 
“Nn. Not true. You keep invitin’ that snake around here.”
 
“Snake? Lord Izumi?” Shu rolls his eyes. “Yes, heaven forfend that I might
enjoy the company of a beautiful man, this is very off-the-mark for me,
obviously.”
 
“Not the same,” Mika mumbles, slumping down. He stabs his needle directly
between the eyes of his newest snog project. “You like him a lot. It’s
different.”
 
Shu sets his needle aside, pursing his lips in exasperation. “He’s not my
apprentice, nor my lover, nor my comrade. Do you hate it so much that I have a
friend?”
 
“Yeah, when…when he apparently makes y’feel good enough that y’don’t even think
twice ‘bout doin’ the stuff you never wanna do with me.” Mika sinks down into
his blankets. “He ain’t that special.”
 
Shu’s first instinct is to say something soothing, but he ignores it. “I don’t
like this side of you, Mika. Jealousy is not your best look. I do hope you get
over this soon. Milady is disappointed in you.”
 
“B-both you and Arashi like him, I ain’t gonna get over it.” Mika pulls a
pillow over his head with a huffy little sound that sounds very close to a sob
that he’s just barely biting back. “I don’t get it, he’s jus’ mean, and scary,
and h-he hurts my eyes and if..if y’jus’ wanted someone pretty, I can do that…”
 
Shu sighs heavily, setting his sewing aside, moving to the bed to firmly take
Mika into his arms. “You’re utterly ridiculous,” he says firmly. “He isn’t my
lover. I can make use of him because I don’t care about him like I do you.”
 
Immediately, Mika latches onto him, burying his wet face into Shu’s neck and
pressing himself as close as possible. “B-b-but y’still like him a lot a-and…”
Mika’s fingers fist into the back of Shu’s cloak. “Someone like h-him…I can’t
compete, y’know? I dunno how to be like that, and I’ve n-never seen you act
like that with anyone else…”
 
“Mika.” Shu tucks Mika’s head into his neck, arms strong, voice rumbling in his
chest. “I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else, though I’d prefer if you don’t
repeat that. You are...the work of my life, you little fool. You being jealous
of him is like Milady being jealous of my boot. Certainly a boot is more
useful, but do you ever think I could prefer it over something beloved?”
 
Mika sucks in a hiccuping breath, and he swallows hard, shutting his eyes as he
just tries to focus on listening to Shu’s voice for a moment so he can calm
down. It’s easier said than done, and he blinks hard, hot tears streaking down
his cheeks. “I…it’d be one thing…if he was just someone you liked,” he
whispers. “That’s scary enough. He’s so pretty, a-and smart, and…and he’s
obviously somethin’ magic, but…but he ain’t a wizard, so Arashi can do whatever
he wants. And he really likes ‘im. It ain’t hard to tell. So it’s…it’s both of
you, and I ain’t got nothin’ else, y’know? S-sorry, sorry, it’s dumb, I’m dumb,
but I can’t stop thinkin’ about it…”
 
“There,” Shu says quietly, pulling back to grab Mika’s face, holding it still,
“is no one better than you are. You are clever, and lovely, and intriguing, and
honestly, this is the best thing you can hope for.”
 
His eyes burn violet, and little fires start all over the room. “If the Captain
deserves you, he will stay loyal to you. And if he can be tempted away, he will
be by Izumi, who is beautiful and talented as well. You don’t have a resonant
bond, and you’re both young. You will have to deal with this sooner or later.”
 
Mika’s eyes well up with fresh tears, and his own power flutters wildly,
setting his newest, half-finished snog plush afire. He ignores it, letting it
burn. There’s probably some truth to the shit that the Emperor says about
relationships just not being a safe choice for wizards when things like this
can affect him so easily. “H-he says he loves me—you d-don’t need a bond for
that,” he whispers, looking down, his fingers twisting up into his own sleeves.
“There…there shouldn’t be nothin’ to deal with. This isn’t fair.”
 
“And with a bond, I can rarely eat or sleep when my lord isn’t near me, and I
had no choice in the matter,” Shu says softly. “Love is awful. If the Emperor
could ban it, I wouldn’t hate him so much. It makes us all stupid.”
 
“Why can’t we jus’ be together, that’d be easier.” He’s upset enough to say it
out loud when he normally wouldn’t, and Mika lurches forward to bury his face
back into Shu’s neck. “Arashi thinks he’s fun,” he miserably says. “I can be
fun. I jus’ don’t know swords, but I’m still fun.”
 
Shu twines his arms around Mika’s waist, dragging him in closer, as close as he
dares, though all of their clothes are still on. “It would be easier,” he
allows, though it costs him something, a confused, fuzzy pain inside of him.
“But you love the boy, unworthy though he is of it. You prefer to talk to me
about magic, don’t you? Don’t begrudge him someone to talk to about his special
interest. Or dump him now and get rid of the issue.”
 
Mika bites his lip as he flops his arms over Shu’s shoulders, huddling up
against him. He stares blearily into the pale skin of Shu’s neck, and sniffles.
“If it were jus’ that…it…it wouldn’t bother me,” he softly says. “I snuck out
t’go to his tent, like I always do, and th’ snake was in his bed. I know—I know
I’ve told him it’s fine t’sleep with other people, but he’s never—he’s never
been interested in them!”
 
“Should we kill him?” Shu asks, a bit casually. “You’re worth a hundred of him,
and if he’s breaking your heart, I won’t hate seeing him die.”
 
“N-no! No, I don’t want him to die, I…” Mika huffs out a wet breath, lifting
his head to stare up at Shu, his face flushed and tear-streaked. “It ain’t
fair. I know we aren’t bonded or nothin’, but t-that doesn’t mean I don’t love
him a lot. I dunno what to do. M-maybe if I begged that watcher t’stick around
for a few hours, I could show Arashi that I’m way better than that stupid snake
and he wouldn’t wanna do anythin’ with him anymore…”
 
“Now you’re just being a brat,” Shu says, as gently as he can manage when he’s
reaching his limit of compassion, just wanting to fix everything with harsh
words and magic. “He isn’t preferring Izumi’s arse to yours. He can’t touch
you. I warned you about this, didn’t I?”
 
Despite his words, he strokes a gentle hand over Mika’s face, soothing away his
tears. “Human men are designed to rut like beasts. I told you that staying with
him would hurt both of you.”
 
“No, he’s jus’ preferring something he can have to something he can’t,” Mika
mumbles, butting his face into Shu’s touch. “I only like two people, why’s
someone like Izumi gotta like both of them, too?”
 
Shu shrugs. “I don’t think he likes me that much. But I doubt you need to
worry, honestly. He’s desperately in love with his prince, he doesn’t want your
Captain.”
 
Mika exhales a low, grumbling noise. “Ain’t what it looks like to me,” he
mutters, and he shoves his face back into Shu’s neck. “I dunno how much longer
I can stand this. What if I blow everything up and we go?”
 
“How is that different from my plan of murdering him?” Shu asks,
disapprovingly. “I had a perfectly decent plan with lots of fire. This is
irony, of course, I’m lying low until my lord returns.”
 
“I ain’t gonna blow Arashi up, I’m gonna blow everything else up and take him
and we go.” Mika’s tongue pokes out, annoyed. “Your old man friend is takin’
toooo long.”
 
“I know. He’ll be hearing from me.” It’s fine to talk big, though Shu can’t
imagine him doing anything other then kneeling at Rei’s feet when he finally
does return. The temptation is strong, to extend a thought towards that space
in his mind, but even that could set a Watcher off.
 
Mika shifts unhappily. “How long are we supposed t’wait for him?” he quietly
asks. Normally, he doesn’t voice this kind of thing. Shu is already stressed,
already worried, already on the edge all the time, but on a day like this, it’s
harder to keep his mouth shut. Everything feels like too much right now, and
Mika rolls the hems of his sleeves up into his hands to pick at them. “It’s
been a long time since you got a letter, Master.”
 
“Stop it.” Shu releases Mika immediately, harsh lines of pain crossing his face
as he stands. Milady flutters in agitation, and he stalks to the edge of the
tent, chest heaving as he clutches at the fabric. “Stop it right now. I have to
have faith in him.”
 
“Why do we have to wait for him to do anything, though?” Mika presses, hauling
himself to his feet and trailing after Shu, unable to bite his tongue now that
he’s started. “Between the two of us—we’re just as strong, aren’t we? I…I know
the Emperor’s hurt you, but I can take him, if you can take the Faerie, between
the two of us we gotta be able to do something—“
 
Shu jerks his hand to the side, and a strange, flat silence descends on the
tent, walling the sound inside off from the rest of the world. It’s not a
perfect system, and they likely only have a few seconds before a Watcher comes
running to see what’s wrong, but his eyes are blazing, furious. “Talk like that
one more time and we’re both dead,” he hisses. “And my lord is at risk. There
aren’t just two fearsome creatures in the Academy! There are hundreds of
wizards who would rise against us! How am I supposed to keep you safe like
that?”
 
Mika flinches back automatically, but then sucks in a quick breath, squaring
his shoulders and steeling himself no matter how scary Shu can get when he’s
angry. “S-so we’re just supposed to wait until he comes and takes them all on
himself?” he pushes back, switching quickly to sand tongue. Even if Shu can’t
speak it, he understands well enough, and it muddles anyone’s understanding of
the conversation enough that overhearing them is at least partially useless.
“Master—it’s been years! Maybe we’re supposed to be doing something, maybe we
should be working with that Watcher more, m-maybe…I don’t know, there has to be
something.”
 
“Do you trust me?” Shu demands. The lines of pain around his eyes make him look
older than his years, and the back light of violet fire makes him look taller,
more imposing. “I told you years ago that this might be decades. You still
wanted to be my apprentice. You’ve learned from me, you’re a fully-fledged
wizard, go work for someone else if you think you can do better!”
 
“Of course I trust you! That’s…that’s not what I’m saying, you’re not listening
to me!” Tears well back up into Mika’s eyes, his hands balling into fists at
his sides. “I trust you, but how am I supposed to trust someone else that just
left you behind?!”
 
Footsteps pound at the ground outside, a slight magical signature following,
and Shu disbands the spell with a wave of his hand, looking haggard with grief
and loneliness. Slowly, he sinks down to his knees on the ground, shoulders
sagging. “I can’t talk about this anymore,” he whispers, looking down at his
hands. “I can’t--I’m not ready. He’s probably...waiting for me to be less...to
be stronger...”
 
Mika trembles for a moment, frustrated, unsure, terrified, before he wavers,
giving up and dropping down next to Shu, grabbing for his hands. “It isn’t your
fault, I know it isn’t your fault,” Mika whispers. “I’m sorry, Master, I…I
won’t mention it again, all right?”
 
“You’re wrong, it is my fault,” Shu insists, tears dropping from his chin. He
starts to shake, eyes wide, frightened, as if he’s seeing something that isn’t
there. “They’re--if they heard, I’m going to--I can’t, I can’t, not again, I--”
 
With that, he slumps over, eyes rolling up, in a dead faint.
 
Mika bites his lip and drags Shu closer, ripping a blanket off of the side of
their bed to drape over him when a Watcher finally tugs open the side of the
tent—not Mao, which is the worst. Mika refuses to even look at the white-
cloaked man, his hands trembling as they fist into Shu’s clothes.
 
“One of these days,” the Watcher says after taking the scene in, “we’re going
to get someone from the Sandlands in to decipher the mess that comes out of
your mouth. Let him go, you know the rules. Do you want to be sent back in for
reeducation because you can’t keep your hands—“
 
The Watcher’s scolding is abruptly cut off by a whack to the back of his head,
and it’s Izumi that strides in, annoyed. “Leave it be, the Nightcloak’s a
special case and you know it,” he flatly says. “He was probably having one of
his damned panic attacks, be glad the camp isn’t in flames right now.”
 
“With all due respect—“
 
“I don’t need your respect, I need you to get out. I stress them out and I’m
their bodyguard, I can’t imagine what you’re doing.”
 
The Watcher’s mouth thins, and he whirls on his heel, muttering something about
needing to file a report before he leaves, the tent flap fluttering behind him.
Izumi rolls his eyes, unfazed, and he grabs Shu away before Mika can protest,
hauling him up onto the bed. “That’s enough out of you, Excellency,” he
grumbles, grabbing a mug of water off of a table and promptly tips it out onto
Shu’s face.
 
Sputtering, coughing, Shu’s eyes fly open. Tiny violet birds flutter around him
for a moment before he banishes them, flinching away from the sounds, the
lights, the horrible wet feeling sinking into him. “What--no, please, I didn’t
mean to, please don’t--”
 
He catches his breath, seeing Izumi above him, and just grabs for his cloak,
pulling it up over his head.
 
“There, see, you’re fine. I sent your Academy friend away.” Izumi rocks back,
frowning. “Do they just…do that? Barge in whenever they feel like it?”
 
Mika makes a low, hissing noise and promptly crawls up onto the bed next to
Shu, diving underneath Shu’s cloak to join him in shaking uselessly.
 
“My fault.” The words are almost too quiet to hear, raspy and broken, and Shu
turns over onto his side. “I...I lost control. I’m.....sorry, Mika.”
 
“N-no, it was my fault, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“ Mika’s speech is a broken mix of
common and sand tongue, and he clings helplessly to Shu. “I w-won’t say
anything like that again, I’m sorry…”
 
Izumi stares for a moment before shaking his head and moving back to the front
flap of the tent. “No one’s going to bother you two, just go back to whatever
you were doing,” he mutters, pulling it shut behind him as he steps outside to
personally stand guard.
 
“You can’t,” Shu whispers, dragging the fabric over his face. Milady makes a
tinkling, nervous little glass noise, fluttering above him. “If they hurt you--
it’s one thing if it’s me, but you can’t give him the excuse, you can’t.”
 
Mika shakes his head firmly, trembling as he clutches at the front of Shu’s
shirt. “I a-already know what they’ll do to me, I’m not scared,” he whispers,
his eyes a little too-wide, unhinged. “Master…if they tried to do anything to
you again…I dunno what I’d do, but I know I won’t let them touch you.”
 
“It would be different. I’ve heard them talk about it. If it’s you...they’re
too afraid of what you’d do in re-education,” Shu says, still hardly above his
breath. “They’ll just get rid of you. Don’t you dare make me live through
that.”
 
“They can’t get rid of me, I’ll kill ‘em all first.” Mika’s grasp is white-
knuckled now, and he shoves his face firmly into Shu’s neck. “And then bring
‘em back and make them kill the rest. They can’t stop me.”
 
“Please, stop,” Shu begs, eyes and throat raw and sore. “You said you would,
I’ll send you away if you don’t, I’ll send you to the islands--”
 
“S-sorry, sorry, I just…I hate all of this so much.” Mika shivers, and pulls
his own cloak over the two of them as well. “He’s…he’s gotta contact you soon,
right?” he whispers. “He won’t make you wait much longer.”
 
“If you ask me one more time,” Shu says wearily, eyes squeezed shut, “I really
will just die. And it would serve you right. I--ah, this is--I’m--”
 
He bolts up, running to the edge of the tent and falling to his knees, retching
up everything he’s eaten in the last few days, the world going dark around the
edges of his eyes.
 
There’s not much that can be done with Shu when he’s like this, but Mika does
try, considering the guilt that eats at him in knowing he’s aggravated the
entire situation.
 
The stress that comes with taking care of Shu when he’s in this kind of
condition only grows in knowing that Watchers are lurking about—and even
Izumi’s rudeness only does so much to keep them away, especially when he’s
drawn off to his duties that have nothing to do with being a bodyguard.
 
At least the Watcher that drops by in the middle of the night, just before
dawn, is the only preferable one.
 
Mika jumps nearly out of his skin at the rustle of the tent’s flap, and huddles
up against Shu’s side protectively. It’s Mao that steps inside, however,
setting his lantern down once he enters the dimly lit tent, his red hair stark
in the light as he lowers the hood of his cloak with a sigh. Silence
immediately, sharply reigns, and it’s unsettling to the point that Mika visibly
shakes. “The two of you are already a magnet for reports,” he softly says.
“Please, I implore you, try not to stir up more Watchers in your direction than
necessary. Excellency, you look very unwell.”
 
“I wouldn’t be unwell if I weren’t being watched all the blasted time,” Shu
snaps, smoothing his hair back behind his ears. “I despise being monitored like
this. Say what you need to say, the sight of your face makes my stomach churn.
It reminds me of people I hate, very unpleasant.”
 
“I’m doing what I can to become the sole monitor of Captain Arashi’s army, but
it’s difficult when the two of you bring in incident reports almost weekly,”
Mao wearily says, and he pulls free a sealed letter from the pocket of his
coat. “Perhaps this will make you feel better, Excellency.”
 
A tremor runs through Shu. He feels the last hints of clinging magic around the
letter, and he grabs for it, ripping it open, fighting the urge to rub the
paper on his face. As roughly as he’d treated the envelope, he treats the
letter like spun glass, opening it as carefully as possible, eyes scanning the
words.
 
My love,
 
There’s no such thing as a dream we can’t envision when you’re held in my arms.
But do me an enormous favor and calm yourself and the little bird, or I’m going
to be inclined to show myself far too early out of sheer worry for you. Make
use of this messenger of mine, he’s here for you to use as you like; there’s no
reason for you to suffer unnecessarily. If you have a request, don’t hold back.
 
“That maddening fool,” Shu says quietly, feeling his heart thud against his
ribcage. “Mika, find me paper and pen at once, and my best writing desk. You
can take one back to him, I assume?”
 
Mao hesitates, but he nods in spite of that, even as he turns away to pull a
glittering red stone from the pouch hanging at his belt. “I don’t recommend it,
but if you will it, then I’ll do it,” he wryly answers, kneeling down to shove
the stone down into the earth right next to the entrance of the tent.
“Honestly, if you two weren’t so nervous all of the time, it would be so much
easier to get things accomplished around here…”
 
Mika sticks his tongue out at Mao’s back as he does as he’s told, bringing over
Shu’s writing table and essentials. “Tell him to hurry up,” he grumpily says,
flopping down at Shu’s feet.
 
“Perhaps if you want to accomplish things with my aid,” Shu snaps, “you should
give us some hint of what must be done.” Sitting at his desk, he quickly inks
his pen, and his quill darts swiftly across the page.
 
My lord,
 
I await your pleasure until the ends of the earth. My good humor, however,
evaporates by the day. The more fool you, you bonded your star to a man of
incredible talent and an unbearable sickness of the mind. And my little bird
sickens in the heart by the day, and I haven’t the ability to care for him
properly under the current regime.
 
And there are too many eyes
 
I will prevail onwards. Make haste, but do so within your means. I will survive
as long as I can.
 
“Take this to him before I rethink,” Shu says, handing over the letter. “And
don’t offer to do me any task if you’ll balk at such a small thing in the
future, idiot.”
 
Mao stares back at him, taking the letter, and with his touch, the trace of
magic that Shu’s mere presence brings silences to nothing. “You misunderstand.
Your lord offers that to you, Excellency,” he says unflinchingly. “Not me. I
merely am doing as he bids, as per our contract. I’m your servant, nothing
more.”
 
“Excellent, I’ve always wanted a servant that offers no value, talks back, and
can’t even follow basic commands,” Shu snaps, and throws the blanket back over
his head, clutching the letter close to his heart. “You can go.”
 
Mao’s lips part, but he bites his tongue as quickly as a quip comes to it. He
bows instead, and swiftly turns, disappearing from the tent and into the night.
 
“Suspicious,” Mika grumbles, crawling back to Shu’s side, burying his face into
his shoulder. “Even jus’ his letter feels nice, huh? It’s so quiet still, even
though the Watcher’s gone…”
 
“I hate everyone except you and my lord,” Shu says bluntly, laying his cheek on
Rei’s letter. “Izumi I will tolerate. But as for everyone else, I just can’t
wait until my lord destroys them.”
 
At that, Mika preens, and pulls another blanket up and over them, creating a
cozy nest for the two of them. “That’ll be good,” he softly agrees. “I can’t
wait to watch.”
***** Chapter 15 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Three years of training, in a place where Natsume can use his magic freely, is
one thing. Three months of traveling, exploring every nook and cranny of their
realm, ferreting out secrets relevant to the King, is something else, and
something that Wataru considers far more applicable.
 
So it is that after training Natsume as well as he can while staying in one
place, he’s dragged him from sea to mountains, from city to plains,
investigating magical oddities and discovering intriguing solutions. Watching
Natsume’s talents flower and bloom, faster than he’d ever thought possible,
helps Wataru’s heart heal a little more, day by day.
 
Still, a fifty-year hurt won’t evaporate in a few months, but with every day,
his smile is a little more genuine, a little less forced. And every day he
manages to get a smile from Natsume, particularly one that isn’t smug or
secretive, feels like a triumph.
 
Just now, they’re on a mission from Rei, a directive to infiltrate the
mysterious Hinterlands, a chilly area East of the North that sprawls through
the Hintervalley. “So,” Wataru begins their daily lesson, settling the reins of
their horses across his lap, turning to Natsume in the seat of the cart, “tell
me everything you remember about the Hinterlands. Who runs them, their primary
export, and most importantly, why on earth our beloved Emperor thought it was
important to send us up here in the dead of winter.”
 
Natsume’s teeth chatter no matter how he tries to make them stop,and he huddles
up grumpily into his cloak. Even with an extra one underneath it, lined in
heavy fur, he’s still chilled, and he blames his own islander blood for the
inconvenience. “The Kanzaki run this place for some reason,” he sniffs, lifting
a gloved hand to push a strand of his hair out of his face, no matter how it’s
blown right back there by the wind. He’s lopped it shorter now, and instead of
tumbling in long waves to his hips, it falls in a simple, pin-straight tail
just past his mid-back, tied there neatly with a leather thong. Prolonged,
extreme use of magic has bleached even more of it to bright, stark white,
marking him unmistakably as a wizard (if the cloak wasn’t enough of a sign) no
matter where he goes. “The whole place is dedicated to nothing but mining, and
why we’re here…so we suffer and die,apparently.” He huffs, and the breath turns
to thick white fog in front of him. “Lord Rei is invested in the slave trade
more and more.”
 
Wataru frowns. “Before we continue, would you like to cast a warming spell over
yourself? Or shall I hold you in my arms? Or perhaps call many birds to settle
over you and shelter you from the elements?”
 
“Hold me,” Natsume immediately demands, taking that as an invitation to
immediately claw his way into Wataru’s lap. Bare legs underneath pinned and
rucked up skirts are not helpful in this sort of weather. “Crush me beneath
your warmth, birds are fine, too.”
 
Wataru flicks at the fastenings of his cloak, then twirls it around Natsume,
dragging him in close. “I’d have thought you’d be warmer with all those
skirts,” he says merrily. “So, then. Extrapolate further--why does our beloved
Emperor care so much about the slave trade? Thoughts?”
 
Natsume buries his way down, pleased now that he’s underneath three cloaks and
Wataru’s embrace. “Nn. Mm. Uh. Makes the Shadowlands look bad. Hinterlands
border it. Also, bird pet. What’s his name, the necromancer. Pet me,” he adds
demandingly, butting his head against Wataru’s shoulder.
 
“His name is Mika,” Wataru says with a laugh. “Now, should you not be confused?
Why should we focus our energies up here, when everyone knows the slave trade
is in the land of perfumes and silks?”
 
“You aren’t petting me so I can’t answer that.”
 
Wataru trills out a laugh, then unfastens the tail in Natsume’s hair, stroking
his fingers through the long red-and-white strands. “Hmm, I wonder why you’re
physically changing so much. That islander blood, I’ll wager. It does make you
look ever so striking, little kitten.”
 
Natsume exhales a long, hot breath, and lurches up into the touch, as helpless
as a moth to a flame. “Maybe it’s because my magic won’t stop,” he breathes,
his golden-eyed stare glittering as he looks up at Wataru. “And I can’t make
itstop. It’s leaky. Hey, let’s go back to the isles, warmer is better.”
 
“But in the isles, we’re no use to the crown.” Wataru pauses. “It sounds
delightful, doesn’t it? I adore being useless. Ah, you’re squirming quite a
lot, aren’t you?”
 
“You’re petting me, I can’t help it. Mommy would looove you.” Natsume reaches
up, clutching at Wataru’s arm to make sure he doesn’t pull too far away. As per
usual, Wataru is distractedly warm, and any particular part of him that Natsume
clings to is solid and (even more distractingly) strong. “I don’t care about
the crown,” he cheerfully says. “I care about doing what I want.”
 
“Mm, I feel the same in a very deep way.” Wataru presses a kiss to Natsume’s
hair, then smiles, to cover the rather unwelcome surge of feelings that wells
up in him. No time for that, not now.“I daresay I don’t mind, if you truly want
to leave. I’ll likely continue on here, because I have nothing else to do with
my life.”
 
“I don’t want to leave, not unless you’re coming with me,” Natsume growls,
seconds from turning his head and sinking his teeth into Wataru’s shoulder to
make a point. He huffs, settling himself with a full-body shiver, and plasters
himself against Wataru’s side again. “What were we talking about. Right.
Slaves.”
 
It takes Wataru quite a bit longer to find his words than usual, with the way
Natsume is shuddering on his lap. “Ah...yes. Yes! Tell me about why we’re up
here in the Hinterlands instead of where it’s toasty and smells nice?”
 
“Because there are slaves up here, too, for some reason.” Natsume shifts on
Wataru’s lap, lacing his arms around his neck to tangle his hands up into
Wataru’s hair. “And Lord Rei doesn’t like that.”
 
“And why does he hate that? Besides a general distaste of humans being used as
chattel, of course.”
 
“Because of personal investment with his necromancer, the only reason Lord Rei
ever deals with things he finds distasteful?” Natsume sweetly says, fluttering
his lashes. “Is that rude? It’s probably rude.”
 
“Ah, delightful! It’s time for a lesson in economics.” Wataru tightens his arms
around Natsume’s chest, tucking him in closer. “Imagine you’re on your mother’s
estate on your island. She owns the entire island, does she not?”
 
Natsume burrows in, the sound exhaled from his lips much like a purring little
sigh. “Mm, mm, the entire island. You’re very warm, Master…”
 
“It’s my inner fires,” Wataru assures him. “So, what if one of the villages on
the far end of your mother’s island suddenly found an enormous cache of gold,
say, that washed up on shore? And they started building a palace, larger than
your mother’s, and thick tall walls around the whole city?”
 
“Kill them.”
 
“Because they’re suddenly a wealthy threat that cut into your mother’s profits
and defenses, yes?” Wataru flutters a hand. “Just the same with Rei and the
Sandlands. If it were only them, that would be dangerous--they’re quite
wealthy. But if they were able to recruit the Hinterlands? And you know what
the mines produce, mainly?”
 
“Diamonds? Ah, so, Lord Rei wants us to cut this down before it gets too big,
then.” Natsume slides his hands underneath Wataru’s shirt, content to enjoy the
warmth of his back underneath his fingers. “This hardly seems like a wizard
task, but I suppose all normal humans are idiots.”
 
“The Hinterland mines,” Wataru corrects, “produce ninety percent of the weapons
used in this country, kitten. And it’s quite difficult to defeat a probable
uprising when your sword dealer is facing you on the field.”
 
“Diamonds sound more fun,” Natsume mutters, sinking his nails in slowly. “Does
everyone out here find the crown so distasteful that they’d uprise already?”
 
“Far from it!” A dove flutters down from a nearby tree to say hello, then flaps
off again, with Wataru’s silent blessing. “No, my sweet, it isn’t that they
dislike our King. It’s that they see profit in secession--if they were to be
different countries, they could increase tariffs and taxes, as the crown is the
largest consumer of both steel weapons and, well, gentlemen and ladies of
negotiable virtue, as my mentor used to say.”
 
“Mmm. So we have to go and poke around and…what?” Wataru’s back is very solid.
Natsume wriggles one hand out of a glove, and lets those nails sink directly
into the skin, because he can. “I don’t particularly care, but if that’s what
Lord Rei wants, fine.”
 
Wataru looks down, blinking. “Are you trying to draw blood?” he asks, genuinely
curious. “If so, you’ll have better luck with biting. Ah, no, you are here to
poke around and see where commoner sentiment is prevailing. I am leaving you
behind for a week or so.”
 
Natsume’s head jerks up, his stare immediately sharp and accusing. “Why?” he
suspiciously asks, and his nails now bite in with the intent to draw blood, if
possible. “Where are you going? Why can’t I come?”
 
The skin around Wataru’s eyes tightens slightly with the prick of Natsume’s
nails. “I’m going to the Shadowlands. And you’re welcome to come with me, but
no one up there speaks Common, and they mistrust anyone who doesn’t know
Shadowtongue. I’d spend most of my time defending and protecting you, or
cleaning up your murders.”
 
Natsume’s mouth immediately turns down, and he arches up, releasing Wataru’s
back in favor of pulling on his hair again. “You waited until now to tell me
about this so I couldn’t say no,” he flatly accuses. “Why do you have to go to
the Shadowlands? What does Lord Rei have you doing? I don’t like this, if he
does something that gets you hurt, I’ll eat him.”
 
Wataru looks down at Natsume, but his smile, bright and cheerful, doesn’t reach
the sudden grim sadness in his eyes. “Nothing of interest, my sweet. Just a
developing situation that I’d honestly rather keep you out of, but Rei cannot
let go uninvestigated.”
 
“I will eat him.” Natsume’s stare is intense, and not allowing a second of
Wataru’s displeasure go unnoticed. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’ll go,
I’ll kill people, they probably deserve it.”
 
“Do your job in the Hinterlands, and I’ll tell you everything when I come
back,” Wataru promises, cupping Natsume’s chin in his hand, pressing a kiss to
his forehead. “Everything you want to know, I promise.”
 
Natsume’s mouth twists a bit more, and he lurches up against the hold, his
hands fisting into Wataru’s hair. He pulls Wataru within a centimeter of his
lips, his own breath catching up in his throat, his own cheeks flushing hot as
his fingers tremble, and he stares, long and hard before slowly sinking back
down, frustrated with the situation as much as himself. “Eventually, you’ll
take me everywhere,” he moodily says. “I’m strong enough.”
 
Electricity crackles through the air. Wataru feels it, hears it, feels the
flutter of ghostly wings on his back, and he whispers, “What do you see in me?”
The words come out far more honest than he’d prefer, but he just can’t stop
them. “Why do you think it’s so important to follow me, Natsume? I haven’t been
any better for you than any other teacher would have been.”
 
“Wrong.” The answer is immediate and abrupt, much like most of Natsume in his
day to day life, but that much more sharp when he refuses to break eye contact.
“You’re the only teacher I want. You’re the only one who understands. You’re…”
He falters, struggling for a moment, and his gaze finally flickers sideways.
“Asking a stupid question. Honestly.”
 
Warmth blooms in Wataru’s chest. He breathes in deeply, then nods, looking away
as color appears in his cheeks. He clears his throat, but doesn’t bother
adjusting Natsume in his lap. He has enough control over his own body to avoid
such a thing. “Well, I am a foolish jester, am I not? So. I believe in your
ability to ferret out the discontent here. And I’ll be back before you know it,
and tell you everything you could wish to hear, and likely quite more.”
 
“You better.” Natsume exhales a slow breath, watching it escape white in the
cold air, and he turns his head, burying his face down into Wataru’s shoulder.
“The only thing I want anymore is you,” he murmurs, twisting a few strands of
Wataru’s hair around his shaking fingers. “So I hate it when you leave. Don’t
take that lightly or I will draw blood.”
 
“Duly noted.” Wataru strokes Natsume’s hair, and drinks in the scent of him for
a long moment, soaking it in, storing it up for the land of dusky shadows he’s
about to enter. “If you’re tired of waiting for me, do fly. I’ll find you, no
matter where you go.”
 
“I’m not tired of waiting.” Natsume slowly starts to braid the captured strands
of Wataru’s hair, his eyes lidding. “But I want you around all the time, even
if I’m waiting. I don’t think I like anyone else anymore, and the people I do
like—they can’t go where I go. So. Mm.”
 
“Indeed.” Wataru flicks an eye to the side, and points. “Ah, that should be
Setsurian, last city before we enter the Hinterlands. Shall we stop at an Inn
for the night? Or does Milady prefer another night in the cart under our
cloaks?”
 
“Inn,” Natsume immediately demands, all but climbing up Wataru to get a better
look at the city in the distance. “Inn, where it’s warm and maybe we can drink,
and I can get warmer. Kitties need a good, warm place to sleep or they’ll die.”
 
“True, of course.”
 
It’s the nicest inn in all Setsurian that Wataru chooses, splurging a bit with
a line of credit right to the Academy to secure them a private room, complete
with two steaming bowls of stew served with hunks of incredibly fresh bread and
trenchers of milk. Another wink to the innkeeper gives him an extra provision,
a set of extra coverlets and a lute, stuffed into the bedroom just as Wataru
leads Natsume upstairs. “I told him we’re newlyweds,” he sing-songs, beaming as
he swings the door open. “After you, Milady.”
 
Natsume flounces in, collapsing down into the warm, soft bed immediately. It’s
a delight after days and weeks of traveling, and he groans, stretching out onto
his stomach, arms forward, booted feet kicking slowly into the air. “Being a
pretty girl still has it’s advantages, huh?” he sighs, kneading his fingers
into one of the very squishy down pillows. “Even if I don’t dress like a lady
of a fine house anymore…mm, this is nice.”
 
“Fortunately, there are people now who will adore you no matter what’s under
your skirts,” Wataru points out, flopping back onto the bed. Then, cheerfully,
he picks up one of the down pillows and tosses it into the air, making it land
down on Natsume’s face. “Happy Honeymoon, beloved!”
 
Natsume punts the pillow back over, and rolls, flopping atop Wataru instead. He
plops his chin into his hands, peering down at Wataru. “Are you being cute
because you’re going to leave me for weeks? I’ll bite you for real.”
 
“You’re right, of course. I’ll be horrible because I’m going to leave you. Is
that better?” Wataru beams innocently up at Natsume, fluttering his long
lashes. Sternly, he sends his body another reminder that it is entirely under
his mind’s control, and that reactions to a lovely young man straddling him are
unwanted.
 
Natsume huffs. “No.” He sits up, hiking his skirts up a bit more to settle more
comfortably over Wataru. “I don’t want you to leave,” he adds suddenly. “And I
don’t want to listen to Lord Rei. We’ll do something else, or you’ll take me
with you, that’s how it is.”
 
“Very well, I’ll stay with you.” Wataru lets his hands move then, tugging
Natsume’s skirts down, unsure exactly how much longer he can keep his body
entirely under control. “We’ll do it together, then, if this is what you want.”
 
It’s a lie, a complete one. He’ll leave as soon as Natsume falls asleep, but if
this is the only way he can put a smile on Nastume’s face, it’s what he’ll do.
 
“Don’t lie to me.”
 
Natsume slaps Wataru’s hands away as he lurches forward, planting his own hands
to either side of Wataru’s head. “I’m not some child that you can just say
things to,” he lowly says. “I won’t just believe you for the hell of it. I know
you’re going to leave me, no matter what I say, and I hate that.”
 
Wataru spreads his hands, helplessly looking up. “What can I say? I just want
you to smile, kitten. Seeing you unhappy is enough to make me spin all sorts of
tall tales.”
 
“You can make me smile.” Natsume glowers down at him all the same, the loosened
tail of his hair tumbling forward to fall around both his face and Wataru’s.
“You could say things like, ‘I’ll come back for you, and we’ll keep traveling
the world’, or…or ‘before I leave, I’ll make sure y-you…’…” He falters, voice
wavering, and he huffs, glancing aside when his cheeks flush. “My point is,
you’re bad at this.”
 
“Too right.” Wataru laughs, self-deprecation heavy in the sound. “I suppose I
still can’t quite fathom my presence being used as a reward or an incentive.
Usually, my absence is the reward that people crave.”
 
His hand moves without his approval, reaching up to cup Natsume’s face. His
mind’s iron control weakens a bit and he tries to get it back, chest rising and
falling faster now. “You should send me away,” he whispers. “Before you decide
I’m too much to deal with.”
 
“No, you’re wrong.” Natsume lifts his hand, splaying it over Wataru’s, his
fingers curling to dig his nails in. “The opposite. There’s not enoughof you,”
he murmurs, tightening his grasp, refusing to let Wataru drag his hand away.
“If there was ten times as much, that would be better. You keep…you keep
running.”
 
“Of course. If I hold still long enough, my mind might catch up.” Wataru blinks
rapidly, mildly appalled at himself for being so transparent. “And then I’d
have to deal with all my thoughts, and who wants such a thing? I...”
 
Another crack appears in his control, not just over his body, but his mind as
well. Otherwise, why would he be moving? Why would he be rolling them, his hair
spilling down around them, his mouth moving to brush lightly, hesitantly
against Natsume’s. His pulse flutters weakly in protest, but something else is
taking over him, making him act the way his emotions urge.
 
Natsume blinks rapidly, and his chest heaves within the confines of his corset
before he can stop it. His mind immediately goes, thinking back to the flashes
of what he’s Seen before—Wataru’s mouth, his hands, his fingers sinking into
flesh, his hair sticking to sweat-slick skin—
 
He thinks less, acts more, and fists his hands into Wataru’s hair as he surges
up, his mouth pressing hot to Wataru’s before he can utter one more protest.
 
The hot, wet lash of Natsume’s tongue along his lip makes Wataru melt. He
nibbles on Natsume’s bottom lip, helplessly allowing himself to indulge.
“Kitten,” he breathes, knees planting into the mattress, straddling Natsume’s
voluminous skirts, pinning him down to the bed. There are so many things he
wants to say, so many things he would say--I’m fire, don’t get burned, everyone
who loves me dies, I’d rather eat glass than see any harm happen to you--but
none of those words can compare to the taste of Natsume on his tongue.
 
Natsume shivers hard, the nickname alone more than enough to spread warmth
through his limbs. His legs kick a little underneath Wataru’s weight, pleased,
and he arches his back, his long nails dragging through Wataru’s hair, into the
back of his neck and his shoulders as he licks his way into Wataru’s mouth,
sucking on his tongue. “I’ll be your kitten,” he whispers, breaking away from
Wataru’s mouth with a hot, wet gasp. “Master…don’t leave me, not tonight.”
 
“Don’t believe anything I say,” Wataru whispers, unable to lie right now, even
if he wanted to. He moves his head, nipping at Natsume’s ear, fixing his mouth
to that long, pale neck. “But let me take care of you tonight. Tell me what you
want, kitten, I’ll give you all of it until the light comes up.”
 
Are you sure? Is this all right? If you’re thinking of someone else, if you
give me a chance to think about Him, I’ll—
 
Natsume’s eyes flutter shut, and he licks at his lips, forcing his own
troublesome mind to shut up. “I w-want…I want to feel like you’ve eaten me
alive, like there’s no way I can be without you again,” he groans, managing to
untangle one hand from Wataru’s hair and paw at whatever lacing and fastening
he can reach on Wataru’s clothing. “L-like there’s finally enough of you.”
 
Enough? As if there isn’t always too much?
 
“I’m grateful for the lie,” Wataru says, a corner of his mouth quirking. His
hands dart down, and he unravels Natsume’s corset in a blink, his skill at
slight of hand making it faster than any human ever could. “Ah...stop me at any
time,” he breathes, not trusting himself but needing to promise it all the
same, because the boy under him is nothing like anything he’s ever touched.
 
His own hands have always been something hard and cold, glass and stone, as apt
to destroy as to cause pleasure. The only men he’s ever been with have been--
 
--unbreakable--
 
--inhuman--
 
A tiny twitch echoes down Wataru’s brow, but Natsume is unlike that man in
every way, warm and clutching and so fragile it makes Wataru’s heart ache. One
of his hands steals down to Natsume’s thigh, squeezing and stroking. “I want
you...” He wants to say more, but what else matters?
 
“It’s not a liiiie,” Natsume groans, his lashes fluttering wildly when the
stupid, troublesome vision that’s been plaguing him for years on end finally
rears its head. Wataru’s hand on his thigh makes his breath hiccup, his cock
suddenly, achingly hard, and he whines, squirming to splay his legs apart more,
reaching his hands down to grab for the hems of his skirts and pull them up
further. Even with his corset strings loosened, he still can’t entirely catch
his breath, and he stares up at Wataru with ruddy cheeks. “I’ve…seen this for
almost three years,” he whispers, licking at his parted lips. “B-but it’s so
much more like this…”
 
Wataru blinks, taking that in. For years? Natsume has seen this, has known that
they’d wind up here, and has been anticipating it?
 
Wataru lets his hands slide down, gripping Natsume’s waist, fingers gripping
deep. “Is that why?” he asks softly, kissing Natsume again. “Do you think we
must, because you’ve seen it? I don’t know how your visions work, kitten, but
I’m happy to play any role.”
 
“That’s not how it works,” Natsume mumbles, lurching up to kiss Wataru back,
his mouth wet and hungry as his teeth catch against Wataru’s lower lip. He
shivers, squirming underneath the hold to his waist, his toes curling, and his
fingers drag down, yanking at Wataru’s laces. “I just—mnn, I don’t have control
over what I see, or what happens, but I…I wanted this, I can’t help it…”
 
“You can’t help it?”
 
Wataru pauses, bringing one hand up to Natsume’s cheek, gently stroking the
skin there. “Neither can I,” he admits, voice hushed. “I’ve been...” Trying not
to want this for weeks. “You’re very beautiful, you know. And your talent
shines so brightly.”
 
Natsume sags down with a whimper, butting his flushed face into Wataru’s hand.
“Then you can’t not do this,” he groans, mouthing a kiss to the inside of
Wataru’s wrist. “Master…nnn, Wataru, I’m an indulgence, so indulge in me.”
 
“I’ve never done this with anyone so small,” Wataru says, voice hushed,
carefully turning Natsume onto his side, all to better strip the voluminous
skirts and corset off of him, tossing them to the floor. He nuzzles into the
soft, sensitive skin at the back of Natsume’s neck, feeling the supple young
strength in him, the hard planes, his hand running over him from hip to
shoulder to chest. “Just blast me away if I do anything you don’t like, I’d
prefer it.”
 
“Impossible,” Natsume grumbles, shivering down to his toes and pulling his hair
forward, out of the way of Wataru’s mouth. “It’s fun because I’m small, I’m
bendy, I’m…nnn…I’m your kitty, right?” He twists, reaching back to latch onto a
handful of Wataru’s hair, his fingers trembling. “Make me feel good.”
 
“Of course you’re my kitty,” Wataru rumbles, pitching his voice low, husky,
spooning up behind Natsume and grabbing his hips, dragging them back against
Wataru’s. He understands the role a little more the farther he goes on,
improvising, basing his actions on Natsume’s reactions, hand curling around to
stroke Natsume’s cock. “A kitty in heat, perhaps? Come here, let me stroke your
tail.”
 
Natsume melts with a long, lingering shudder. He wriggles back, his breath
catching up in his throat when he can really feel the warmth, the solidness of
Wataru behind him, the strength and breadth of his chest, and exactly how hard
Wataru’s cock is, pressed into the curve of his ass when he squirms. “Y-you’ve
been…been neglecting me,” he exhales, trembling when just the touch of Wataru’s
hand makes his cock twitch. “That’s not faiiir.”
 
“Neglecting? No, no, just...”
 
Wataru nips at Natsume’s neck, rocking up to grind against the sweet curve of
Natsume’s ass. His other hand rubs across Natsume’s stomach, up to his chest,
plucking and rolling one nipple. “Everyone knows you don’t let a kitten breed
on her first heat,” he murmurs, low in Natsume’s ear. “And you squirm so
deliciously. I want to take a bite.” He does, out of Natsume’s shoulder, teeth
rasping against the soft skin.
 
“Nnnhhh…” The noise is barely bitten back, broken and throaty as Natsume turns
his face into a pillow. The cool fabric makes his face feel even hotter,
somehow, and his nipples immediately harden underneath the pull of Wataru’s
fingers, achingly hard as he arches forward into the touch. “K-keep doing that,
and I’ll make a mess,” Natsume whimpers, reaching a desperate hand back to grab
for whatever part of Wataru he can sink his fingers into, trying to keep him
closer, get him closer, anything.
 
“You like being nibbled?” Wataru’s teeth flash, nipping at Natsume’s ear, his
neck, his collarbone, his shoulder, varying the strength of the nips from
gentle to an intense bite, though he still doesn’t break the skin. “Just from
that, kitten?” he teases, rubbing his thumb over the tip of Natsume’s cock,
relishing the feel of it in the palm of his hand. “I’d love to see how many
times I can make you come before the sun rises.”
 
Natsume bites into his own hand, barely in time to shut himself up as he spills
with a grateful jerk of his cock against Wataru’s hand. His mewl is a ragged
one, his eyes wildly fluttering as he drips over Wataru’s fingers, his chest
heaving, and his entire body trembling, far from interested in stopping.
 
“T-the…the way you call me kitten…makes me so hard,” he rasps, flopping back
against Wataru, pointedly wriggling back, his breath hiccuping as he rubs back
against Wataru’s cock. “Please…don’t stop…”
 
“I’m not stopping,” Wataru assures him, sucking on the lobe of Natsume’s ear,
feeling it smooth beneath his teeth. His hands splay out on Natsume’s hips,
long fingers digging into the skin. At the same time, his hips rock, rubbing
his cock over the curve of Natsume’s ass, the head dragging against the small
of his back with every long thrust. “Tell me about what you love, kitten. Show
me how to make you squirm.”
 
Natsume groans out through his teeth, and he twists, rolling partially forward
as he grabs back, trying to grab for Wataru’s hair as pull him with him, on top
of him. His blood thrums fast, his cock aching and sensitive as it rubs down
into his own wet spot on the bed. “In me,” he demands shakily. “Put it in me.
You said I’m a cat in heat, r-right? So take care of me…”
 
Wataru feels a qualm of misgiving. Natsume is so young, their age difference
far more than it appears. He’s also so fragile, so trusting, but...
 
Well, then I’ll just have to strive not to hurt him.
 
Wataru has never been very good at gentleness in the past, delighting in his
devilments, enjoying hearing people complain and struggle against him, but
Natsume is pliable, Natsume is urging him on, Natsume is demanding.
 
He plants his knees on the bed, and yanks Natsume’s hips up off the bed,
leaving his chest and face pressed against the mattress. Reaching around, he
slides his fingers into Natsume’s mouth, delving against his tongue. “Make them
nice and wet, kitten. I haven’t any oil.”
 
Natsume shudders visibly, all the way down to his toes, and a wet groan escapes
out around Wataru’s fingers as he sucks them into his mouth, his tongue lapping
at those long fingers, messily slicking them with every slide. His cock is
already achingly hard again, and every twitch makes him squirm, oversensitive
and overstimulated just with the idea of Wataru in him. His chest heaves, and
his fingers knead into the bed before one comes up to grab Wataru’s wrist as he
tilts his head up, sucking greedily, the overeager scrape of his teeth almost
bringing him to bite.
 
“Are you going to come twice before I even get in you?” Wataru rumbles, amused.
He licks the edge of Natsume’s ear, tongue flicking out a bit longer than
normal for a human before he catches it. When his fingers are properly wet, he
pulls them out, shifting to dip them inside of Natsume’s hot, tight hole, two
at first. His fingers are nice and long, sliding in deep, and he murmurs, “Will
this be enough? How much can you take, I wonder...”
 
Natsume’s back arches with a ragged breath, his burning face buried back into
the bed as he wriggles back against Wataru’s hand. It’s tense, achy, a slick
stretch that makes him pant shallowly, and he bites his lip to stifle another,
breathy noise as he clenches down. “I-it’s…it’s been so loooong…” he groans,
his legs trembling, even as he tries to squirm and splay his legs further
apart. “I can’t…I can’t make it feel good w-when I do it myself, even if I’m t-
thinking…about you…ahhh..all the time…”
 
Why? Wataru wants to ask, but no, this isn’t the time for that. Fortunately for
his mental state, Natsume is so completely unlike Eichi that the comparison
hardly exists, and he nuzzles into Natsume’s hair, kissing each strand, as
tenderly as he’s ever done anything.
 
He wants this tonight, he thinks, letting his body be consumed with lust even
as there’s a melancholy in his mind. His fingers dip and twist, curling and
stroking inside the beautiful young man. At least I can give him tonight.“And
so far, kitten, is it everything you dreamed of?”
 
A hissing breath escapes from Natsume’s clenched teeth when Wataru’s fingers
stroke inside and make his hips jerk, his fingers fisting into the coverlet.
“M-maybe,” he huffs, lifting a trembling hand to shove his hair back from his
flushed face. “It will be when you start feeling good with me. Put it in, you
can do whatever you want to me, I want you to—“
 
“Shhh, patience, patience.” Wataru’s fingers spread apart, but it’s still
tight, enough to make him wish he had some of his favorite aromatic oils.
“Truly a kitten in heat, I think...”
 
He nips at Natsume’s neck again, working a third finger in. “I love to play
with you, indulge me a bit. I’ve waited quite a while, you know, so let me
enjoy you at my own pace.”
 
Natsume’s breath hiccups, and his head thumps back down. “You’ve…you’ve w-
wanted this too, right?” Wataru’s fingers spreading apart takes his breath
away, and he swallows noisily, feeling the sweat drip down his spine. “Nnn…t-
that’s…that’s a lot…you…ah…I’m…”
 
Balancing carefully, Wataru grabs Natsume’s other hand, dragging it back to
wrap those slender fingers around the thickness of his cock. “I can change my
voice, kitten, but I can’t change my size,” he murmurs, turning his hand to
drag over something hidden and lovely deep inside. “I don’t want to hurt you
when I’ve wanted to have you like this for so long.”
 
Natsume’s mouth goes dry. Wataru is so hard and heavy in his hand, and his
fingers squeeze down shakily against his will. He hears a low, whimpering,
breathless whine, and realizes that’s probably him, especially when he can’t
helpbut grind back against those searching fingers that feel so damned good.
“It’s…you…y-you won’t hurt me, ah, g-gods, pleeease…”
 
It’s not as big as him, his mind feels the need to remind him, and Natsume’s
chest heaves. “I’ll die if you’re not in me,” he whimpers, twisting his head
back to stare up at Wataru through the sweaty fall of his bangs. “You’re mine
now, because I said so.”
 
“Shh.”
 
Wataru pulls his fingers out, turning Natsume’s head to kiss him deeply,
holding him close. “Calm, my sweet. I’ll give you everything you want, just
breathe.”
 
He aligns himself, guiding the head of his cock to Natsume’s hole, pausing to
kiss him again. “In and out. Your chest is so lovely,” he murmurs, fingers
creeping in to stroke, then pinch at one pink nipple. “Let it rise and fall as
I slide into you.”
 
Natsume melts down with a whimpering little huff, his eyes fluttering when he’s
kissed. Just the heat of Wataru’s cock pressing against him makes him shiver,
and it’s hard to relax when he’s so wound up, when he wants it so badly. His
vision swims, daring to try and shift to things only seen by him, now, of all
times, and he grabs for handfuls of the silvery-blue hair tumbling over him to
ground himself. “Please,” he groans again, rasping and throaty, the faked,
girlish pitch to his voice entirely gone in his need. “Wataru, I…”
 
That last invocation of his name steals the last of Wataru’s self-control. He
tries to move gently, but he can’t stop himself from pressing inside, face
buried in Natsume’s hair, breathing him in with a low, panting groan.
“Natsume,” he breathes, mind forgetting nicknames, forgetting what role he’s
supposed to be playing. Magic swirls around them, and he doesn’t bother to
care, only caring about Natsume in his arms, about how long it’s been, about
how he makes Natsume writhe.
 
Wataru fits inside of him. It aches, it’s tense and it could be slicker, but he
fits, long and thick and filling him up entirely, until he swears he can taste
Wataru on his tongue. Natsume sags into the bed, his knees spreading further
apart on the bed as he rocks back with a trembling moan, his cock dripping
between his legs. “Wataru,” he whispers, still clutching at Wataru’s hair. “Y-
you’re…that’s so good…”
 
The sweet plea from Natsume’s lips bolsters Wataru’s confidence, his
determination. He rocks in deeply, working himself in a little more each time,
feeling the heat of their bodies melt and change, something alchemical between
them. I should have known,Wataru thinks, laughing at himself a little as he
kisses, strokes, rocks deeply, touching Natsume as intimately as he can. I
should have--
 
Even Eichi hadn’t really understood what Wataru is at the end of the day.
Wataru is certain that Natsume doesn’t either, even as their magic trickles
into each other, raising both of them to new, dizzying heights. “Feel that,
kitten?” he rumbles, feeling Natsume’s tight, sweet stretch around him.
 
“Uh…huh,” Natsume breathlessly manages, rubbing his face down into the bed,
biting his lip when the vice-tight grip he always tries to keep on his own
magic starts to falter more and more. It’s always too slippery, too much for
him to cling to, but now it’s even worse, and he shudders, his vision glazing
over. He wriggles his way back mindlessly, panting open-mouthed when he hears
skin slap together as much as feels it. Wataru’s cock rubs inside of him so
far, so deep that he can barely breathe, and somehow, it’s still almost
secondary to the way Wataru just feels pressing down against him, both
physically and magically.
 
The gentle rocking of their bodies together can’t, doesn’t last. Wataru shifts
his weight, bearing Natsume down to the bed, his weight pinning Natsume down.
It’s still too-tight, but he’s so hard he’s aching, and the urgent dripping of
his cock makes it slicker and sweeter with every thrust. “I--”
 
Want to eat you.
 
He won’t. He’s better than that now. But he still indulges himself, lets
himself not just nibble, but bite, stopping just short of breaking the skin.
He’s careful with every inhale, ever-conscious that he has the ability to
breathe in Natsume’s magic with the air, resisting his natural impulses with
every motion. “We’re making something beautiful,” he whispers. “Open your eyes,
look at the colors.”
 
Opening his eyes is easier said than done, when even focusing on words is hard.
His cock jumps, the arch of his spine and the splay of his legs making him
tremble, making his toes curl as he struggles for some sort of purchase to arch
back, but now, the way Wataru pins him just makes him take it, and that’s
so…sosatisfying.
 
Dimly, Natsume thinks Wataru’s teeth feel too-sharp, but his shoulder rolls
underneath the bite all the same, a hiccuping groan leaving his lips as he
yanks on Wataru’s hair. The mix of blue and red and violet and white swims in
front of his vision, clouding everything else he could be Seeing, and that’s a
relief right now, when all he wants to think about is how good everything
feels. Not human, his mind feels the need to point out, but that just makes his
cock twitch again, dripping steadily now. “You’re mine,” he pants out, writhing
against the bed, feeling the rasp of the sheets against his nipples, the way
his cock won’t stop aching no matter how it feels like he’s come ten times over
now, “so you…nhh…should turn me…into your feast.”
 
“Don’t say that.”
 
Wataru’s voice is a suddenly hoarse, urgent croak, as the words, the
permission, starts to drag his nature out. He grits his teeth, his whole body
stilling for a moment as he forces it still, heart no longer thudding, every
bit of him that pretends to be human freezing.
 
A tense, strange moment passes, and magic lashes out of him, binding with
Natsume’s, blending into something alive. Expelling that magic is a relief,
letting Wataru’s human form take over once more, though it leaves him
trembling, shaken, holding Natsume as closely as possible, bodies still
entwined. “Are you--did I hurt you?”
 
Natsume hears his own pulse thudding, his own breath rattling in his throat,
and he shakes his head slowly, clinging still to Wataru’s hair and refusing to
let him go. “N…no,” he whispers, his eyes wide, dilated as he partially twists
underneath Wataru to look back at him. The edges of his own magic feel somewhat
raw, overstimulated as much as his own physical body, and he exhales a
shuddering breath. “That kind of…felt good.”
 
Wataru hesitantly strokes Natsume’s hair, brushing the damp strands back from
his face, kissing his cheek with all the kindness he can muster. “To me, also,”
he confesses, eyes too-bright, still achingly hard inside Natsume. “Here, climb
with me, I’ll bring us both home safe.”
 
With that, he starts to rock again, though his kisses are lips-only now, not
trusting himself to think about consuming right now.
 
Natsume slinks down with a breathy sigh, trying to focus on the way Wataru
feels inside of him, the heat and strength and—
 
No, more, more.
 
He growls, shifting, twisting again as his body thrums, restless, overeager.
“Roll me over,” he orders breathlessly. “Wataru…I’m gonna eat you if you can’t
eat me.”
 
Wataru moves fast, but not to roll over, pinning Natsume’s shoulders down to
the bed with iron strength. “Not tonight, kitten. Just enjoy this, I won’t risk
you, and I’m not strong enough to stop myself if something goes wrong.”
 
Natsume’s squeak is muffled into the mattress, and he struggles against that
hold for a moment, just to test it. It’s useless, of course, and that just
makes him ache. “T-then just fuck me,” he groans, his nails like claws as he
rakes them into the coverlet. “I want you to, please…”
 
Wataru’s laugh is a rich, dark chuckle as he thrusts in hard, as hard as he can
trust himself to safely do, working Natsume sweetly over with every movement.
“I have to watch myself around you,” he murmurs, feeling his skin tighten, heat
pooling, swelling inside him as he approaches the edge, determined to bring
Natsume with him. His hand steals down, stroking over Natsume’s cock as they
rock together, riling him into a frenzy. “If I lose control for even a second,
you’ll make a meal of me, won’t you?”
 
Natsume clings to the only thing he can—those strands of Wataru’s hair tumbling
down over him, sticking to his sweaty skin, tangled around his fingers as he
twists and arches. Inside, Wataru is definitely too much—too big, too hard,
leaking now and making Natsume gasp for breath when he shoves in deep. Outside,
even his hand is too much, and Natsume’s cock throbs, dripping over those long
fingers.
 
If he could sink his teeth into any part of Wataru right now, he would.
 
His eyes crack open, and just the sight of his own magic trying to spill over
and cling to Wataru’s again makes him twitch, shudder, and lose himself with a
broken noise, coming over Wataru’s hand and onto the bed. This is different,
this is so different, a vision couldn’t have shown me any of this, I—those
words stick in his throat, and he sags, shuddering, biting into the coverlet.
 
If it all goes wrong, Wataru thinks dimly, spilling deep into Natsume’s pliant
body, filling him with spurt after spurt, holding him tightly,at least he’s had
an amazing night.
 
Shuddering, damp with sweat and languid with pleasure, he curls around
Natsume’s prone form, rolling onto his side to hold him close without crushing
him. “You survive all of that, kitten?” he rumbles, lashes fluttering closed
against Natsume’s cheek.
 
For a moment, Natsume breathes heavily, his head lolling back against Wataru’s
shoulder. Then—“Do it again,” he says, turning his head to sink his teeth into
Wataru’s shoulder.
 
That startles a laugh out of Wataru, and he nips playfully at Natsume’s ear,
tucking his hair behind his ear on the other side. “Mm, and what are you under
the skin, with stamina like that?”
 
“I’m a cat. Maybe a cat demon, what if I was?” Natsume’s eyes glitter, and he
nuzzles up underneath Wataru’s chin. “What are you?” he breathes. “I always
knew you were something, but—tell me, tell me, look at how our magic reacts…”
 
Wataru lifts a hand, then twines his fingers around Natsume’s. Carefully, he
breathes out, letting his magic swirl around Natsume’s, the residual magic that
bleeds off of a wizard as powerful as a Nightcloak like fumes. Everywhere they
touch, the magic sparks, twines, and morphs into something amorphous, something
shimmering and oddly visible. “That’s your homework while I’m gone,” he
decides. “Discover what I am, and I’ll come back to you.”
 
“That’s not fair,” Natsume growls, even as he squeezes Wataru’s hand tightly,
his eyes tracing and tracking the magic with intense interest. “You should just
tell me and then you can come back and chew on me.”
 
Wataru presses a kiss to Natsume’s temple. “If you want a master who will
simply tell you things instead of letting you investigate on your own, I have
many to recommend,” he says cheerfully. “But none of them are in this bed right
now.”
 
Natsume’s lips purse, and he lurches up, snapping his teeth gently against the
line of Wataru’s jaw. “Fine,” he grouses, but he doesn’t sound entirely
displeased about it. “At least that’ll be something interesting to look into
while you’re gone. But I want you to know, I’m very displeased that you’re
leaving when I’m finally satisfied for the first time in years. Take more
responsibility.”
 
“Of course. As soon as I return.” Wataru snakes an arm around Natsume’s waist,
and squeezes tightly. “And you’ve had enough time to rethink your foolish
decision to share my bed.”
 
“Not foolish,” Natsume mumbles, snuggling back, refusing to let even a
centimeter form between them. “The best. Perfect.”
 
Wataru tugs the heavy furs over both of them, weighting them both down. “Well,
kitten, you know my one rule. As long as you aren’t tired of me, I’ll stay.”
***** Chapter 16 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
“Ma~o.”
 
Even given the chance to leave the Academy, Mao still didn’t take it. He
regrets that often, especially when their very own Emperor smiles at him now,
obvious stress marring the edges of that intense, red-eyed stare.
 
Being Ritsu’s bonded should mean a bit of freedom from obligation to others,
but if anything, being Ritsu’s bonded makes Rei feel more entitled to his time,
and that much more proprietary as well. ‘Annoying’ doesn’t quite begin to cover
it, and Mao feels his mouth twist, the stacks of parchment he had been
previously filing now ignored.
 
“I have a job for you.” And before Mao can open his mouth to protest, Rei
raises a finger with another smile. “And Ritsu has already approved it, so you
can’t say no.”
 
And that’s how Mao discovers that the Sandlands’ winters are still,
unfortunately, intensely warm.
 
Rei claims to be friends with the brothel’s madam, but being ‘friends’ with
Rei, Mao knows, is a very loose term. The woman doesn’t seem concerned that the
Emperor of the Academy himself delivers him, but she does seem concerned with
him, or rather, overly excited. “He really is from the Northeast?” she asks,
grasping Mao’s chin, turning his head side to side. Her skin is old, wrinkled,
and deeply tanned, but she, just like the establishment, is surprisingly clean,
except for the lingering scent of her own hair oils on her painted fingernails.
 
“He looks it, doesn’t he?” Rei mildly says. He’s dressed for the weather and
the setting with pale linen nearly trying to fall off of him, and his hair tied
back from his face. “Especially with those eyes.”
 
She grunts, and tosses a bag of gold into Rei’s chest. “Good. Competition is
growing.”
 
“Milord—“
 
“Uh uh,” Rei says with a sweet smile, silencing Mao with a wave of his hand as
he turns his back, purse full. “You answer to her now.”
 
Sometimes, the startling resemblance between the two brothers—Rei’s
deliberately flippant attitude about this, Ritsu’s eagerness to see him dressed
up, in his words, ‘like a slut’—is grating.
 
All dealings aside, the woman does seem to know that he’s there less to work
and make money as a prostitute (thank the gods) and far more to investigate and
be Rei’s eyes (as per usual, as if nothing changed after his damned takeover of
the Academy). “Three doors down,” Rei had told him on the ride to the
Sandlands, “there will be another brothel. And in that brothel is my little
bird, and occasionally, my consort, who insists on being a part of this.”
 
The words had been more than enough to make Mao go entirely still. “I see.”
 
“If I tell you to move to help them, you do it.”
 
Once a spy, always a spy, Mao wearily thinks, and at the end of day three,
scribbling away his findings for the day in a piece of parchment, a knock comes
at his door before it swings open. “Good,” the madam sniffs, “you’re dressed.
Come downstairs.”
 
Dressed is a hilarious word for being draped in silk definitely too see-thru,
and with clinking, shimmery little bits and pieces of chain and beadwork that’s
more a nuisance than anything. Mao had attempted to argue that he’s honestly
not the person for this job, why not just let Mika do it, he’s obviously, ah,
skilled, but trying to argue that without causing offense had turned ugly, very
quickly, and risking Rei’s already on-edge temper had been ill-advised. He
spares a glance into a mirror, sighing as he unpins his hair and begrudgingly
stashes his notes before making his way out of the room and down the stairs.
 
“You wanted Northern boys? I have them, here.”
 
Mao turns the corner, lifts his head, and tries not to react. Surely, this is a
new level that no other spy should ever have to deal with—keeping his face
impassive, keeping himself entirely calm and collected when it isn’t just some
customer he has to fumble his way through, but Keito, in the flesh, right in
front of him.
 
Honestly, fuck you, Rei.
 
It takes more training, more skill, and more determination than Keito has ever
needed in his life to keep his face neutral.
 
Fuck you, Rei, he thinks wearily. He feels the fuzzy prickling at the back of
his eyes that usually means that he’s about to pass out, but he needs to stay
clear, stay focused, stay alert.
 
His mind races, and he feels like an old, doddering fool. Surely, there’s a way
to get out of this nonsense. This is Rei’s fault.
 
Then again, Rei hadn’t told him which brothel to go to, just to start working
his way through. It is possible, however unlikely, that he hadn’t known this
would happen. Still, though...
 
He turns his nose up, refusing to let his eyes sweep down over elegant limbs,
taut skin, exposed--
 
“I don’t like red hair,” he says, floundering for anything, anything that will
get the boy sent away.
 
It would be too much to expect to be sent away at that. His madam rolls her
eyes and looks over to Mao expectantly, who takes a solid few seconds to react.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
 
“If you blow your cover,”Rei had not-so-nicely warned him, “you’re killing
what’s mine. Keep that in mind.”
 
Honestly, Rei could have just threatened him that people will die. Knowing that
it’s Mika and Shu just makes Mao nervous all over again, bringing him sharply
back to the days of following at their heels at every single turn, enduring
Shu’s snarls and demands atop whatever Rei had already requested of him.
Nerves, however, make Mao stop thinking, and start acting instead, because
that’s the only reason why he’s survived this long.
 
“You won’t mind it in the dark, Milord,” he murmurs, bowing his head as he
steps forward and reaches for Keito’s hand. “I promise you.”
 
“New patrons try out our wares here,” the madam says, and drags up a chair for
Keito. “Payment afterward.”
 
Seriously?Mao wearily thinks, and he bites down a sigh, pulling Keito to the
chair. “If you would, Milord…”
 
The buzzing doesn’t go away. Keito feels panic rising. Mao is more than his
subordinate--Mao has been his ward since he was a child, Mao is the closest
thing he has to a son, there’s no way, even when he’s under orders, no way that
he can possibly--
 
No way to break cover.
 
He’s spent over a decade putting this cover together. He has contacts, he has
an entire private life down here. There are thousands of lives on the line, and
just the Madam’s insistence that there are plenty of Northern boys around here
these days lets him know that the problem is here.
 
He sits heavily, looking into Mao’s eyes, trying to find some clue from him,
some way to get them both out of this. He opens his mouth to protest that this
boy is too old, but the idea that she’ll bring him someone younger is
distasteful in the extreme, so he simply looks down, mind caught in the gears,
not working at all as he stares dumbly.
 
Mao sucks in a quick little breath, glancing up to meet Keito’s gaze for a
moment before he simply drops to his knees in front of him, because, well. What
else is there to do?
 
Now isn’t the time to focus on the obvious issues with all of this, or how Rei
will absolutely skin him alive if he screws this up. “My apologies if I’m not
to your taste, Milord,” Mao murmurs, pleased that his hands aren’t shaking when
he reaches for Keito’s laces. It isn’t as if he’s never given a blowjob
before…even if this is a blowjob for his teacher, his mentor… “But I promise
I’ll make you rethink that. Just…relax, if you would?”
 
There’s definitely something in the perfume of this place. Keito faintly
recognizes opiates hanging thick and heavy in the air, making him feel
deliciously slow and sinful. If Mao had hesitated, looked nervous, Keito
probably would have turned and fled.
 
But Mao’s hands are steady, his eyes unflinching, and Keito’s mind swims.
Something dark flares at the back of his eyes, a part of him that has wanted
this for years. Not forever, certainly not, but since Mao was--
 
Twenty-three, he privately admits to himself. It turns his stomach with guilt
even as his cock flushes harder than it’s ever been, even before Mao’s hands
get his laces open. It’s painful, and he likes it, though he stops himself from
reaching for Mao’s hair, letting his hands curl on the arms of his chair
instead. “Go on, then,” he says hoarsely.
 
Mao’s fingers drag between Keito’s legs before curling into his laces, and his
eyebrows tick upwards. Hard as a rock, sir? Really? His eyes flick upwards
briefly, but he thinks the better of meeting Keito’s gaze. He doesn’t quite
have the nerve for that, especially when there’s half a dozen reasons for
this—the situation itself just being outright odd, the drugs, the need to fake
their way through this…
 
Part of being such a good spy, however, means that this has to be a lot less
fake than it really should be, so it’s time for his mind to shut up.
 
With those laces unraveled, Mao’s fingers immediately wrap around Keito’s cock,
and he  shifts forward onto his knees, dragging the head of it to his mouth.
His tongue flicks out, swiping long and wet over the tip, and that first taste
makes him shiver. He pushes his hair back behind his ears as he sucks the head
into his mouth, and his cheeks flush as he grabs for one of Keito’s hands,
urging it into his hair.
 
Ah.
 
Within a moment, Keito can tell that this is going to be over embarrassingly
quickly.
 
He isn’t usually hair-trigger, but with how worked up he is and how hot and wet
Mao’s mouth is around him, it’s all he can do to curl the fingers of one hand
around the chair’s arm, breathing deeply. Even his fingernails dig into the
wood. But for his other hand, twisting in the deep crimson strands of Mao’s
hair, he lets them drag down, stroking gently, fondly through the strands. He
nearly slips, nearly says the boy’s name, but catches himself just in time,
transmuting it into a deep groan. His cock leaks hard over Mao’s lips, and just
the thought of it makes him shudder wordlessly.
 
It’s not like Mao doesn’t enjoy this, and that’s…somewhat troublesome. His cock
twitches between his legs, and he shifts, ignoring it as he sucks Keito down,
letting his cock rub further down along his tongue. Keito’s fingers distract
him, dragging along his scalp, and Mao swallows too much of him too fast, his
throat giving a spasm of protest when the head of Keito’s cock bumps against
the back of it.
 
“Heehh, you’re really cute when you gag like that, Maa~o.”
 
Mao shudders, blinking hard when his eyes water and he swallows, looking up
through his wet lashes with Keito’s cock buried between his lips. It’s not
Ritsu, it’s not…anyone else that he sees, but Keito—and the fact that the sight
of his mentor is what makes his cock ache makes his face hot.
 
Keito would already be close to the edge, just from the dark, repressed fact
that he’s wanted this and hated himself for wanting this. He’s already on edge
from the idea of what he’s doing, and the sweet wet heat of Mao’s mouth. But
when Mao looks up at him like that, with wide, familiar eyes, and ruddy cheeks-
-
 
Keito claps a hand over his mouth as he groans, flooding Mao’s mouth so full
that a bit of it spills over his lips, and that sight makes Keito’s cock twitch
again, a last spurt onto Mao’s tongue. Sorry, he wants to say, even as his hand
strokes over the boy’s cheek, feeling every bit the disgusting old man he’s
pretending to be.
 
The Madam shifts, and Keito scrambles to remember his cover, breaking eye
contact at last to nod at her. “The first one of this hair color I’ve ever
found satisfactory,” he manages, though it sounds embarrassingly weak to his
ears.
 
Mao pulls back, trying not to swallow too noisily, and ultimately failing. That
shouldn’t make him quite as aroused as it does, but he can blame a great deal
of that by being in-character, right? Right, he weakly decides, gingerly wiping
at his mouth. “I’m…glad that was to your taste, Milord,” he whispers, and he
licks at his lips again—a mistake, because the taste is still there, and he
squirms where he kneels. “Perhaps—perhaps we should continue upstairs?”
 
“Payment first,” the Madam sweetly cuts in, rising from her chair. “House
rules, you see. Three gold nobles, to start.”
 
Nice, I’m pricey—I think? Is that something to be pleased about? Fuck you, Rei.
Mao painstakingly pulls himself to his feet, glancing carefully to Keito.
 
For a moment, a much too long moment, Keito considers accepting the offer as-
is, dragging Mao upstairs, and having him over and over until dawn. The sudden
lust is enough to make his cock stay hard, and hell, at least that’s in
character.
 
He grasps after the ragged ends of his mind, and thankfully catches them. He
stands, tucking himself into his trousers, and pulls out his purse. “Madam,” he
says, carefully counting out coins, “If this is the quality of your goods, my
appetite is whetted more thoroughly than I thought. I’ll go upstairs.” He
counts out three gold nobles into her hand without haggling, then jingles his
remaining coins, as if completely casual about it. “Procure me additional
company from the same stock, and send him up after. Oh, and younger.” He says
it off-hand, but his chances of getting another spy are lower if he makes such
a casual stipulation.
 
The Madam nods, her eyes fixed on Keito’s coin pouch. “As you wish, Milord,”
she says, tucking the coins away. “And no more redheads, I presume.”
 
“I’ll sate his need of redheads,” Mao softly says, reaching out to take Keito’s
hand and draw him towards the stairs. “Come with me, Milord. It seems as though
you’re not yet satisfied with me.”
 
His legs wobble as he draws Keito up the stairs, but he holds it together until
they’re in his room and he shuts the door firmly behind them. Mao shudders,
sagging back against it, shutting his eyes. If he doesn’t look, maybe he can
get himself together and not think about Keito being hard, again, and how he’s
hard still. “Of course you’d be sent down here, too,” he manages. “Of course.”
 
“I’m going to kill him,” Keito says, because that sounds more constructive than
falling to his knees to apologize. He turns away, taking a deep breath, and
sets his jaw. “He didn’t give me any hint, if you want to know. I’m probably
actually going to kill him.”
 
Beneath the sheer film of anger, Keito’s chest is tangled in distress, anxious
that Mao will hate him, be disgusted with him.
 
“I guessed, judging by your reaction,” Mao says with a ragged little laugh, and
he forces himself away from the door, bending down to rip off one, jangling
anklet that he’s already pre-forged into a silencing charm. Pulling it off
activates it, and he hangs it on the lock, relaxing slightly. “It’s fine—it’s
fine, everything’s fine, sir,” he says, turning back towards Keito and grabbing
hesitantly for his hands again. “Honestly. Ah, are you all right? The smoke
here’s awfully strong. It doesn’t bother me, but if you’re not used to it…”
 
Keito swallows hard, looking down at their joined hands. “You must think I’m an
awful pervert,” he says quietly. “Please understand this is just me doing my
job.”
 
Lies, his mind whispers, but he stuffs that down. Mao isn’t just twenty years
his junior, he’s bonded to Rei’s little brother, and Keito knows full well that
he must be sickened by what they’d just done.
 
“I know. We’re both here for a job. I’m not going to destroy our cover just
because…well. Besides, I’d rather it have been you, than some stranger, that’s
never enjoyable,” Mao dismisses with a shake of his head, giving Keito’s hands
a squeeze. “Here, sit down on the bed, in case she comes in to check on us.
Then at least I can climb on you in a split second and that’s convincing
enough.”
 
Keito wavers for a moment, then drags his hands down his face. “Just...do me a
favor and blame the smoke if I get hard, please,” he mutters, sitting on the
bed. “And the fact that it’s been quite a while. What on earth do they have you
wearing?”
 
“Whatever’s typical, or so I’m told,” Mao sighs, dropping down to the edge of
the bed next to Keito and smoothing down the gauzy layers of silk. There’s
little on him from the waist up, unless one counts dangling earrings and the
delicate gold choker about his neck, leaving the years-old, faint discoloration
of a magical scar on his chest revealed to anyone who wants to see. The rest is
just layers of green and blue silk draped about his waist, everything (except
for one, thin panel) being entirely see-thru. “Apparently, I’m fairly standard
fare for a ‘middle-class’ prostitute, can you believe it? I had a career
waiting for me and I didn’t even know it.” He rolls his eyes, glancing aside.
“Even Ritsu was on board with this. I think my real calling was being sold out
by those two repeatedly.”
 
“As your former guardian, I’m appalled,” Keito says, trying to remind himself
what he should be focusing on. “Tell me the truth. Has Rei sent you out to be
used like this before?”
 
“Does that really matter?” Mao mildly returns, leaning forward and setting his
hands on his knees, drumming his fingers there slowly. “More importantly, why
did he send you down here? I’m serving as next-door reinforcements to the
people Rei actually cares about, though they don’t know I’m here.”
 
“I have a reputation down here,” Keito admits, not meeting Mao’s eyes. “I’ve
worked down here as a procurer for years, keeping an eye on the trade. I’ll
admit, when I was younger, it was a...hobby, of sorts, to find the worst
offenders, then track them down in the desert and shoot them. That’s how I
reconnected with Rei, actually, and the prince--er, the King, I suppose, as
well.”
 
“Oh, I knew about that,” Mao says, fluttering a hand. “Is he making you pick
that back up specifically for this mess now? I can’t say I’m surprised, but I
am annoyed that he didn’t warn either of us. Ahh…this is so frustrating, but I
suppose it could be worse—at least now I can touch base with you and follow
through with leads far more easily…”
 
“It’s ill luck, I believe,” Keito says with a sigh. “He gave me a list of three
hundred brothels to check out, looking for a new influx of northerners. This is
the second one I looked at.” Fate, his mind says, and he puts that thought
under a boot and squashes it.
 
“…Lucky you?” Mao can’t help but say, biting back a laugh. It’s hard not to be
amused at this point. “Sorry, sorry, I know it must be awkward as hell, sorry.
I can tell you that there haven’t been that many northerners here—just me, and
one or two younger kids. Do you know they bill me as being nineteen? I’m nearly
thirty, do I really look that young?”
 
“Brothels sell youth,” Keito says, waving a hand. “And you have all of your
parts, and your skin is better than it would be for a thirty-year-old
prostitute, so they can sell you as ‘young and whole,’ which means ‘nineteen,
but definitely older’ down here.” His mouth quirks. “If you have done work for
him, it’s clear it hasn’t been in the Sandlands.”
 
“Obviously. I stand out too much down here, so what’s the point in using me
here until I need to stand out?” Mao cheerfully points out. “Rei’s had ears and
eyes in the Sandlands far better than what I could ever offer up. Even now, I’m
an accessory. The problem is the Otogari house; he used to have so much more
there, but now…mm, closed off, quiet, and I think the source of every problem.
So he’s trying to sell Mika into it.”
 
“And, doubtless,” Keito says with a laugh, “he sent you down here to keep an
eye on Mika and Shu. You’re here to watch, as usual, Mika is here to infiltrate
the demand end, Shu is here so he doesn’t panic about Mika, and I’m here to
infiltrate the supply end.”
 
He pushes his spectacles up on his nose, amused. “So we’re all chasing our own
tails, instead of being effective spies, because Rei is terrified to send his
Consort down here, but unwilling to tell him no.”
 
Mao smiles and spreads his hands. “There it is. Yes, I am absolutely only here
to stare out the window and make sure no one too-disgusting is touching what’s
his, even though Rei specifically sent yet another tagalong to follow directly
at Mika’s heels and distract anyone especially grubby…as if that really works
down here.”
 
“If he were smart,” Keito grumbles, “he’d have sent us down here as an
effective team, rather than just a loosely colluded bunch of spies fumbling in
the dark and bumping into each other.”
 
“But he’s never smart when His Excellency Shu is concerned,” Mao wearily
agrees. “And ultimately, he’s right about one thing—I can’t speak sand tongue,
and I don’t blend in enough to get as far as Mika can. If it was the two of us
and Mika, though…this would have been so much easier. Shu is just…”
 
“Trust me when I say,” Keito says wryly, “after several years of working with
them, Mika is far less valuable if he doesn’t have Shu’s support. Near useless,
in fact, I’d say. Well, I suppose there is strength in numbers.”
 
He hesitates for a moment, then asks, “Are you all right? I know you have a
resonant bond, and for some that will be...”
 
“I suppose Shu was a better choice in the end; the other option, I’ve heard,
was Captain Arashi, and that idea gives me hives.” Mao rakes a hand back
through his hair, pulling a pin from the side of it to clip it out of his eyes
for at least a moment. “Thank you, but I’m fine. I’ve always struggled with
feeling my bond, so…I suppose that’s for the best, in this case?” he says with
a little laugh, shrugging his shoulders. “Ahh, I feel bad about it, honestly.
Of course, this is the one thing I struggle with as an enhanced.”
 
“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Keito reaches over on instinct, and tucks a strand
of hair behind Mao’s ear. That brings the sudden, opium-laden memory of the
last time he’d touched Mao’s hair, and he pulls back, cheeks burning.
 
Mao’s mouth parts as he starts to reply, then he swallows, his own face hot.
Honestly, in the moment, it had been fine and entirely necessary, but now, he’s
starkly reminded of the taste of Keito still on his tongue, and that’s…
“Anyway,” he quickly transitions, shifting and folding his hands over his lap.
“I suppose we should, ah, better discuss how to work together, while we’re both
here.”
 
Keito swallows hard, looking down at his lap. His hand pulls back, his arm
cold, fingers feeling hot and tingling. Disgusting, he reminds himself firmly.
“I won’t be purchasing you, I think that’s quite foolish. If she offers me
someone else, however, I’ll ask you to evaluate him, and take him back with me
for interrogation and rescue. Apart from that...”
 
He shrugs. “I suppose we continue working together loosely. I’ll do my job, you
do yours, and if we need to meet...there are worse places, if you can stomach
it.”
 
“Believe it or not, sir,” Mao wryly says, glancing down at his hands, “I don’t
find you disgusting, and in a way, even though I’m sure it must be awkward for
you, it’s a relief. You’re handsome and clean and, well, I appreciate how easy
you are.”
 
“I’m not usually that fast,” Keito says quickly, before he can stop himself.
 
Mao’s eyebrows raise. “Probably the opium,” he mildly says, offering Keito a
way out. “It does that.”
 
“Makes sense, that way...” Keito clears his throat. “That must be easier on the
workers, eh? And a quicker, ah, turnaround time?”
 
“Probably. And this is the light stuff, you should breathe in the smoke at some
of the really fancy brothels where they honestly don’t want you there for more
than a minute…”
 
Mao pauses, and the approaching footsteps up the stairs makes him move,
abruptly shoving Keito back to the bed and yanking open his collar as he
straddles his hips. “Time to look busy,” he mutters, pushing Keito’s glasses up
and off as he bends down, sucking on the side of his neck.
 
The motion takes Keito by surprise, and all he can do is squeak, letting Mao
kiss his neck. His hand drops, grabbing Mao by the hip, yanking him close just
before the door opens. He indulges for another long moment, just like a true
nobleman buyer would, before pulling back and blinking dazedly up at the Madam.
“Ah, excellent. Is this my delivery? We could certainly use another pair of
hands at this point.”
 
“Sorry, Milord,” the Madam says, hip cocked against the doorframe as she takes
in the scene. “Turns out we’re sold out for the evenin’.”
 
“More for me, then,” Mao murmurs, catching the lobe of Keito’s ear between his
teeth and tugging as his fingers drag back through Keito’s hair. Sold out?
There were barely any patrons in before, something changed, maybe someone
picked them up.“Right, Milord?”
 
The Madam looks entirely unfazed. “Two nobles every thirty minutes, that’s the
rate for the first two hours. After that, we’ll talk.”
 
The door clicks shut again, but Mao doesn’t sit back yet, too wary of her
lingering and listening. So, the sound of rustling fabric has to prevail, with
his fingers swiftly undoing Keito’s buttons. “Grab my arse next time,” he
suggests underneath his breath. “It looks more possessive.”
 
Keito thinks quickly, or as quickly as he can when his mind is so fuzzy. He
moves, shoving Mao down to the bed, and slides down, avoiding his grasping
hands. “I get to do what I like with you,” he declares, flicking his eyes to
show that he understands that someone could be listening. And this is the least
invasive thing I can think of, and the most likely to let us still be friends
later.“I wouldn’t do this with just anyone.”
 
Deliberately, he pulls one of Mao’s feet onto his lap, breath catching as he
does, running a finger whisper-light up the sole.
 
Mao falls back with a squeak, and his mouth opens, a protest on his tongue. It
dies, of course, because what else can it do when he has to keep his mouth
shut, and he tries not to jerk back, his toes curling unbidden. “S-sir—“ Milord
his mind reminds him, but whatever, nobles can be into being called that, too.
“That—I—“
 
“You’re here to please me,” Keito reminds him loudly, trying to be heard at the
same time he’s trying to speak over the pounding of his own heart. He’s pretty
sure it isn’t in his chest anymore, but somewhere around the base of his cock,
thudding dully. He drags his finger down the sole of Mao’s foot again, letting
the nail rasp lightly against the skin. “It’s a shame they make you go around
barefoot here. Before I come see you next time, have these washed and oiled.”
 
Mao sucks in a sharp breath and squirms, not entirely able to help it. What the
fuck, he cheerfully asks of his own body’s reactions, which is to apparently,
immediately be riled to the point of uncomfortably hard again. “I—y-yes, sir,
whatever you—“ He shifts when he squirms, and his foot slips within Keito’s
grasp, pressing further into his lap and subsequently against the veryhard line
of Keito’s cock. His breath hiccups, and Mao hears, vaguely, the sound of
footsteps striding away from his door. “…want,” he breathlessly finishes, his
head flopping back with a groan.
 
Keito’s hand pauses. When the footsteps finally recede, he draws back, wiping a
hand over the sweat beading at the base of his neck. “Gods above, boy. Are you
trying to kill me with those reactions?”
 
“I-I’m…a good actor?” Mao manages with a nervous little laugh, still not
entirely trusting himself to move. “Sorry.”
 
“It’s a good thing, I suppose.” Keito looks down at his own lap, and grimaces.
“I suppose it would be quite telling were I to walk out of here like
this...perhaps I could pretend this is a fetish of mine?”
 
“I mean, it is the Sandlands…” Mao pushes himself up onto his elbows. “But that
sort of sets a precedent that’s uncomfortable,” he hedges. “Are you sure you
don’t want to just…finish? It’s not like I dislike the feet thing…”
 
Keito swallows so hard it’s audible. With a shrug, he unlaces his trousers and
pulls himself out, stroking swiftly as he moves his other hand to Mao’s foot.
“You’re learning all kinds of terrible things about your mentor today,” he says
dryly, “but given what we’ve been through before, I’ll assume we’ll survive.”
 
“Shouldn’t I just be happy that you’re so virile at your age, sir?” Mao says
with a breathless laugh. He flops back again, curling his toes and trying to
ignore how hard he is. That can be taken care of later. “Are you sure you don’t
want me to…I don’t know, step on it or something? Though I always assumed you
were the kind of person that wanted to step on people, heh…”
 
“It’s nothing like that.” Keito’s cheeks flush deeply, rubbing his thumb along
the arch of Mao’s foot. “It’s not...a power thing, I just think they’re...”
 
He licks his lips, then turns, holding Mao’s foot still, then rubbing the head
of his cock along the sole. The sheer wrongness of it goes to his cock, and he
drags a slick trail over the bottom of Mao’s foot, until the head catches on
the toes, and he grunts out a curse, biting his bottom lip.
 
Maybe, Mao dimly thinks, his face flushing anew, it’s time to shut up.
 
Justifying this with the idea that Madam could come back at any point is good
enough, though, and Mao shifts carefully, drawing his other foot up and letting
it press into Keito’s thigh, his toes flexing slowly in. “Do you…want me to
hold them together while you…” He trails off, licking his lips as he looks
aside. “Sorry, you definitely know what you like.”
 
Keito’s breath catches, then comes out in a breathy whine for a moment. He
nods, biting his lip nearly hard enough to bleed, trying not to act like a
green teenager at his first sight of a breast as he guides Mao’s other foot
into position. “I’ve never done this in real life,” he mutters, eyes down,
pupils blown wide with pleasure and sheer lust as he grinds against that tight
flex of Mao’s feet, wondering when his life went so horribly right.
 
“W-well, this is the Sandlands,” Mao breathes, his eyes sliding shut as he
shifts for his own comfort as much as Keito’s and presses his feet together,
letting one rub along the side of Keito’s cock as he thrusts forward. “You’re
so hard, sir,” he murmurs, and almost against his will, he has to tease, “Are
you sure it’s just the opium?”
 
Keito’s eyes flash, a sudden quirk of good humor as he thrusts forward,
reaching up to pinch one nipple, giving himself in to the spirit of the moment.
“Quiet, or I’ll silence your mouth some other way,” he breathes, knowing he’ll
regret it later and not caring.
 
Mao stifles a noise by clamping a swift hand over his own mouth, and he glowers
briefly up at the ceiling. “I think you already did that, sir,” he mutters,
annoyed by the way his own cock just refuses to ignore his pleas to calm down
already, especially when Keito’s twitches against his feet. “Unless you’d like
to do that again.”
 
“No, thank you,” Keito grunts, yanking Mao’s feet down in an urgent rhythm,
chagrined at how close he is for the second time that day. “I’m good here.”
 
A dozen more thrusts, and he shifts, taking himself in hand and stroking
himself to completion, painting the bottom of one foot in sticky white. He sags
back afterwards, chest heaving. “Ahh. That was...quite a bit better than I
intended.”
 
“No one would ever think you were in your fifties, sir,” Mao huffs out, and he
swings an arm out to his bedside, grabbing up a cloth as he draws his foot up,
wiping it clean. This is just lewd,honestly, and his blood won’t stop thrumming
hot through his veins, distracting him. “I’m starting to think you like the
Sandlands more than you let on.”
 
“If I hated it, I’d tell Rei to send me somewhere else,” Keito drawls. It’s
easier to be relaxed now, when he feels as if most of his life essence has
already been drained out of him. “I don’t have a resonant bond with anyone, nor
a lover. If he’s going to send someone down where the weather is lovely and I
have to pay for beautiful companionship, it might as well be someone who won’t
leave anyone behind.” His mouth quirks. “And if I don’t feel like taking
advantage of the wares, I just bring my sketchbook. It sounds lewd enough that
most whores don’t even blink if I just want to draw them naked.”
 
“Everything makes more sense, suddenly.” Mao’s lips twitch, vaguely amused, and
he tosses the cloth aside as he flops back onto the bed. “Well. Isn’t it
fortunate that we can work together, even in these circumstances? And with a
much more level head about this sort of thing than any wizard, I wager.”
 
“Oh, yes. At least I don’t have to worry about you falling in love with me.”
Keito’s laugh sounds a little hollow to his own ears, but hopefully not to
Mao’s. “Or at least, faking that you’re enamored with me, assuming I can buy
your way out of this life of bondage.”
 
“Please buy me eventually, Rei absolutely did sell me and I’m fairly convinced
he’s going to forget about me for a year if someone looks at Shu for more than
two seconds, because he’s that way.”
 
Keito finishes tidying up, then leans down, close to Mao’s ear. “It’s unusual
that she didn’t send someone up, isn’t it?” he whispers.
 
Mao nods, sparing a glance towards the door again out of habit before he
replies. “There were others here that fit the bill less than a day go—this
morning, even,” he softly says. “Maybe buyers are moving through here faster
than we thought.”
 
“Damn,” Keito breathes, as quietly as he can without betraying even the
slightest sound. “She didn’t even try to pass someone off. And I was offering
large coins. That means there’s someone buying big, and probably in bulk...”
 
“At this rate, I’ll be the next one sold and this place will be empty,” Mao
says with a snort. He shifts, smoothing down the silk around his hips. “I
haven’t even seen anyone that remotely acts like a buyer here, either…other
than you, of course.”
 
“Your Madam doesn’t trust you, you know,” Keito adds. He reaches down, then
adjusts the silks around Mao’s hips, doing what he can to cover him decently.
“If anything, she’s sabotaging you, sending you to someone who said he dislikes
you and then listening in.”
 
“I know.” Mao rolls his eyes, glancing aside. “That’s Rei’s fault. He sold me
to her directly and for a low price, so between his presence and the fact I
can’t hide the fact that I’m absolutely not used to the Sandlands…well,
whatever. I’m good enough that she’ll relax eventually.”
 
“I don’t know very much about the whore end,” Keito admits. “Would it be more
suspicious, or less, if I left a tip? Perhaps if I left you one and you acted
like you were trying to hide it from her, like a regular whore?”
 
“Uhh…I mean, I was going to go for more well-behaved, but sure, I can get
behind hiding my tips like a real prostitute might. Heh, so,” Mao says with a
bat of his eyelashes, “how much of a tip am I worth, sir?”
 
Keito’s traitorous cock gives an unfortunate twitch, and with the way he’s
lying close to impart his information, it’s likely that Mao felt it. He turns
around, grabbing his purse, and pulls out a gold noble, feeling bold, feeling
salacious, and drags the coin down the thin gauze over Mao’s chest. “Think you
deserve this much, boy?” he asks softly.
 
Not nice, sir, Mao darkly thinks, but he arches up, grasping for Keito’s hand
and dragging it up to his mouth. “You’ll be back for more, sir. I’m sure of
it,” he softly says, plucking the coin from Keito’s grasp and dragging his
tongue against the tip of one long finger.
 
Keito swallows hard. “I will,” he whispers, and catches himself just as he
starts to lean in for a kiss.
 
Idiot, he curses himself, rolling over to stand up, straightening his clothes
and putting his spectacles back into place. He’s not your toy to use, he’s
yourresponsibility, you ridiculous, pathetic old pervert.“I’ll be back to check
on you--I mean, check for updates. Do you have access to a window, or to the
outside? Any way to leave a message or a signal?”
 
Mao sucks in a sharp breath, steadying himself, and he nods, forcing himself to
sit up and yank aside the heavy drape of curtains on one side of the room. It’s
a tiny window behind them, but it’s still a window. “And you know my magical
signature well enough, I hope,” he quips. “So I’ll be sure to get in touch, if
needed.”
 
Keito nods. “All right. And just in case you can’t use your magic for any
reason, put something red in your window, between the glass and the curtain.
I’ll set a street child to watch for the sign, just in case.”
 
He hesitates, then adds, a little awkwardly, “It doesn’t have to be mortal
danger. If you cannot...bear it anymore. Feel free to do the same, I’ll answer
to Rei for it.”
 
“I think we both know how intolerant Rei will be if I decide to bail on a
mission explicitly focused on keeping an eye on what’s his,” Mao lightly says,
his expression wry. “Though I do appreciate it, sir.”
 
“I honestly don’t care,” Keito says flatly. “He can be as intolerant as he
wants, he didn’t warn me that I might encounter you like this, and I am going
to hit him in the face when I see him next.” He nods, then stalks out of the
room, lingering smoke and perfume clinging to him like loving arms.
***** Chapter 17 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Falling back into old, familiar habits is startlingly easy.
 
Mika is grateful every single day that Arashi isn’t in the midst of this. The
idea of being seen seamlessly integrating with old, familiar brothel life is
stressful, even if this particular brothel is…much higher end than the one he
grew up in. The customers are all wealthy, well-dressed, with soldiers being
few and far between—nothing like the sandy, dusty brothel full of vagrants that
he was a stand-out in as a child.
 
Apparently, though, he still stands out here.
 
Less than a week passes before the brothel’s owner—a man that Mika does not
like after being around him for only five minutes, and it’s more than a little
scary to think about Rei knowing him—and a buyer (a buyer, not a customer,
there’s a difference) get into a violent argument about…pricing? Cutting a
deal? Who even knows; the smell of blood is still thick in the air, and that,
apparently, is something that reigns supreme no matter the class and location
of the brothel in question.
 
It doesn’t matter either way, because the buyer pays Shu his finder’s fee, and
the brothel itself is left behind without Mika having to touch a single
person—somehow.
 
The reason for that becomes extremely clear when it’s the echo of an unfamiliar
palace that rings in Mika’s ears. It seems too fast, almost—but isn’t that the
point? Being sold to the palace, in the midst of where everyone is so sure many
of these dealings are taking place? But minus Shu, is Mika’s frantic first
thought, even as he tries to not panic, to hold himself together while Hajime
lines his eyes underneath the watchful stares of several of the
buyer’s…associates.
 
“It’s ridiculous,” one of them mutters. Everyone here, apparently, speaks sand
tongue and nothing but that. “A birthday present for His Highness needs to be
testedfirst.”
 
“Doesn’t he like it when they’re, y’know, fresh?”
 
“Not so fresh they aren’t useful. Come here, pretty,” one of them says,
grabbing Mika’s face with a rough, tanned hand. “Let’s warm you up for the
prince—“
 
Hajime moves before Mika can even open his mouth to protest, kohl brush in one
hand and knife in the other. “Release him,” he firmly says. “Please.”
 
The man laughs, and Hajime moves without hesitation, the dagger slicing in a
swift line up the man’s arm. It’s shallow, not enough to kill, but certainly
enough to bleed and scare, and the man lets go then, cursing and spitting
insults as his companion laughs: “Serves you right, don’t touch the prince’s
things!”
 
“My apologies, Excellency,” Hajime murmurs, wiping off the blade and stowing it
again against his lower back. “I dislike having to do things like that. Are you
all right?”
 
“I’m…fine,” Mika manages, blinking a few times. Rei wasn’t kidding about this
one, apparently.“T…thank you.”
 
Talk of the prince is fine and all, but when he doesn’t bother to accept his
birthday gift, Mika starts to get worried that he’s reached a dead end. Days
pass—days without movement or usefulness or Shu—and worry and dread start to
sink in. There’s not much he can do from this position—sit and wait and watch,
certainly, but apparently being an untouchable commodity that can’t even seek
out men to manipulate is his new job, and that’s the exact opposite of what he
anticipated.
 
To soothe some of the panic setting in and in an attempt to be useful, sneaking
around is Mika’s outlet, in spite of Hajime’s protestations. “I’m a blind
concubine, what are they going to say?” Mika hisses, waving away his concerns.
“I’ll just tell them I got lost.”
 
…which is how he ends up stumbling upon a meeting with an unfortunately
familiar name involved
 
“The new toymaker should be arriving any minute—an excellent talent,” one of
the Otogari advisors says, his voice wheedling. “You should think of bringing
him into your guild, Milord.”
 
“I’m not sure we’re looking for anyone in that trade at this time, but thank
you.”
 
Just the voice alone is familiar, and it makes Mika freeze where he plasters
himself against the door outside of the meeting, breath caught in his throat.
 
“At least entertain him—Lord Nazuna, look here, we also developed a list of
suppliers for you, the labor is much cheaper in the South—“
 
“Are you lost?”
 
The voice is deep, coming from behind and above Mika. The Prince of the
Sandlands, Adonis, stands tall in the corridor, outfitted in silks and gold
jewelry, dark smooth skin warm in the setting sunlight. His face is impassive
as he looks down, arms crossed over a powerful chest. “Your rooms are far from
here,” he says, the fourth sentence he’s ever voiced to his ostensible
‘birthday present.’
 
‘Blind’ isn’t entirely accurate. It’s useful to have that as an excuse when
most of his sight is compromised, but Mika can still recognize most people if
he’s at least had a proper glimpse of them once—or by voice, which is
absolutely the case here. He swallows as he turns to face Adonis, and
immediately slides down to his knees, head to the marble floor in the single
most subservient bow one can offer in the Sandlands. “My deepest apologies,
Highness, I—I lost track of my attendant, and it seems I ended up here…”
 
Adonis looks down, face betraying nothing at all as he looks at Mika down on
the floor. “You can get up,” he says, and extends a hand. Too late, he
remembers that this ‘gift’ had been introduced as mostly blind, and adds, “I’m
extending my hand.”
 
“Thank you,” Mika whispers, lifting his head and still politely not meeting
Adonis’s gaze as he slowly climbs to his feet, gingerly accepting his hand. His
mind is going a million miles a minute, shifting from you’re friends with Rei,
I need to be able to talk to you, you need to stop ignoring me!,directly to
Nazuna is here, Shu can’t come here, Shu can’t be anywhere near here,
everything will be ruined and it’s going to be terrible—
 
The meeting room door swings open, and just a flash of golden hair is all Mika
needs to see before he moves, throwing himself at Adonis, burying his face into
his chest and clinging to his neck. Nazuna, fortunately, doesn’t spare them a
glance aside from a brisk bow of his head to Adonis before he strides off,
leaving a cursing, grumbling advisor in his wake. “Highness—please, a moment of
your time?” Mika hastily begs. “I—I’ve longed for a chance to properly meet
with you—“
 
Adonis blinks, and lifts Mika off of the ground, almost without thinking about
it. He carries the young man down the hallway toward his room suite, nodding at
a servant to close the door behind him. Gently, he lowers Mika down onto a
reclining couch, standing over him. Then, he turns and walks away, reappearing
a moment later with a tray of cold cut meats. “Eat. You’re small.”
 
Mika blinks a few times. He’s not sure what he expected from one of Rei’s
friends, but beyond that, he does know what he expected from a Sandlands
prince—and it isn’t this. “Um—thank you,” he manages, quickly trying to pick up
from his faltering and not entirely panic. Shu isn’t here, even Hajime isn’t
here, and this isn’t something he’s good at. I’m not hungry isn’t something one
says to a prince either way, so Mika leans forward, touching the edge of the
tray with trembling fingers before gingerly selecting a piece of meat. “I, um…I
was wondering, if there was something I had done to displease you? Because
you’ve…not seem interested…” At least it’s a lot easier to fake properly
trained for court in any capacity when he can speak in his native tongue.
 
“Oh. Yes.” Adonis nods slowly, as if thinking about this, and admits, “I’m not
interested in sleeping with anyone who can’t fight me off if they want to.”
 
“T-that’s…a very interesting requirement, Your Highness.”
 
Adonis shrugs, but doesn’t offer any other explanation.
 
“I mean, it’s, it’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Mika hastily says, unable to
stomach a second bite of meat, but whatever, he tried. He shifts, trying not to
fidget and fiddle with the sheer silk that drapes over his hands. “I’m
not…entirely sure why I would want to fight you off, though? I belong to you.”
 
“Do you want to sleep with me?” Adonis asks bluntly, head tilting slightly to
the side, eyes scrutinizing.
 
“Who wouldn’t be honored?” If this was really my lot now, I’d be set for life.A
part of his past self is jealous of the entire situation, honestly. “I’m sorry
if I’m not to your taste—um, forgive me for asking, do you…do you have a lover?
I promise, it wouldn’t be an insult to them if you occasionally found comfort
in someone like me…”
 
Adonis sits on the edge of the couch, and picks up another piece of meat,
putting it firmly into Mika’s hand. “You aren’t any different than anyone
else,” he says quietly. “You aren’t worth less.”
 
“T…thank you?” This is less of the sort of thing Mika ever thought he would
have to deal with, and thinking on his feet is not his strong suite when magic
isn’t involved. He bites his lip nervously, glancing aside. “I know you have
probably seen…far too many people just like me come through your palace.”
 
“Not through my chambers.” Adonis looks down, and frowns. “Eat your meat.
You’re too small. You have to become big and strong so you can protect
yourself.”
 
“I can protect myself,” Mika mumbles before he can stop himself, but he
obediently takes a bite anyway, even though his stomach flops in protest. “I
think I’m beyond the point of growing, Highness, but thank you.
It’s…surprising, if you don’t see many people like me through your
chambers—have your parents never given you a gift like me before? Would you
prefer someone that isn’t from the Sandlands, maybe?”
 
“I always refuse such gifts. I apologize if that gives you offense.” Adonis
looks down at his hands, keeping them by his sides as a proper man of the
Sandlands does. “I accepted you because it was polite.”
 
He looks around, then takes a small blank book and the stub of a charcoal pen
out of his pocket, carefully writing in a clean script before handing it over.
 
Preparations had not been made yet. Now they have. If you wish to be free I
will liberate you from this city.
 
Mika swallows the rest of the meat in a hurry, and snatches the book away
faster than is entirely necessary.
 
He’s Rei’s friend, of course he’s doing things like this—but at the same time
as relief runs through him, there’s wariness. Rei has some very questionable
friends in the Sandlands, and ‘liberation’ could mean a number of things. Mika
hesitates, his gaze flicking up to look at Adonis—as much as he can—for a
moment before he writes, in his own, neat script: I can’t leave. I’m here on
Rei’s behalf.
 
Because that’s as safe a response as he can think of, honestly. It still makes
Mika’s heart thud too-fast in his chest, and he nudges the book back over,
folding his hands back up into his lap. “I appreciate you being polite,
Highness,” he quietly says. “But at some point, to not, ah, make light of your
parents’ gift, it might be wise to…move forward. With an arrangement.”
 
Adonis looks down at the book. Then his eyes widen, and he rips out the page,
then eats it without flinching. “Would it make you happy to be a pretty
ornament?” he asks, as if he hadn’t just eaten a leaf of paper. “You may feel
free to pursue any relationships you want. If you like women, my sisters might
be to your taste. But I wouldn’t recommend it. They’re terrifying.”
 
“They certainly have…a personality,” Mika manages to squeak out, his heart
still thudding very, very fast. Right, I’m not immediately dead or threatened,
so maybe it’s good that he ate it?! “I, um, I’m happy to be whatever you like
me to be, Highness, but women aren’t exactly…my specialty, I should say? It’s
fine if you don’t want to touch me,” he hastily adds, slowly bunching the ends
of his sleeves into his hands without noticing. “But, speaking from experience,
if you would prefer your parents not to be aware of that, I should still
occasionally stay within your quarters…”
 
“My parents don’t pay that much attention,” Adonis says, and takes Mika’s hand,
then puts a piece of meat into it. “You aren’t eating. Eat.”
 
Mika’s lips purse, and he leans forward, frustration finally making him bolder.
“Highness,” he flatly says, pressing the meat back into Adonis’s hand, “if you
don’t act possessive in some fashion—and you should be, because you hold my
contract—I can’t do my job here.”
 
Adonis stares, brow furrowing. “If your job is to fit in,” he says carefully,
“this will not help you. Because it would be unusual for me to act like that.”
 
“But I’m very good at my job. It wouldn’t be unusual for you to be
uncharacteristically interested with that in mind.”
 
Adonis’s mouth turns slightly. “But I don’t want to sleep with you.”
 
“You don’t have to. I’ll help you fake it.”
 
“All right.” Adonis looks down, and then presses the meat back into Mika’s
hand. “I’ll do that if you eat when I ask you to. You’re all little bones.”
 
Mika exhales a frustrated little sound, but he begrudgingly takes another bite
to appease Adonis. “I eat as much as I need,” he mumbles. “You won’t like it if
you force me, I’m not good at it. Hand me that again, please?” he asks,
grabbing for Adonis’s notebook.
 
Adonis hands over the notebook, unhappy with Mika’s rejection of his meat. What
kind of person doesn’t mind being forced into sex, but objects to being urged
to eat?
 
Treading carefully is still necessary here, but Mika is at least somewhat
certain that Adonis isn’t part of the problem. He pauses, chewing on his lower
lip as he thinks before writing. When you have a chance, you need to tell me
everything you know about the trade that comes through here, he writes. Do you
have any names of the traders? Is it your family that’s directly involved?
 
Adonis reads and rereads the note, then taps the charcoal against the page,
thinking.
 
I have told Rei all of this information.
 
Nothing has changed, then. Mika exhales a long sigh and flops back, thinking.
 
I don’t think a single slaver would ever trust you as being on their side, so
if you work with any of them, point them out to me. I need to be more involved
if we want to help more people. If it looks like I’m trying to get a cut off of
the pipeline of slaves moving through, that’s much easier for a lot of slavers
to trust than a prince…and that means we can eventually cut them off entirely.
 
A quiet knock comes from the door, and Mika flutters like a startled bird,
shoving the notebook back into Adonis’s hands. “My deepest apologies for the
interruption,” comes Hajime’s soft, tiny voice. “I was told my charge found his
way to you. Do you require anything, Your Highness?”
 
“Yes.” Adonis stands, and nods down at Mika. “Help him find his way back to his
room. And this evening, lead him to me by the tallest fountain in the
courtyard. We will take a moonlight walk. Sometimes you can see red foxes.”
 
“That sounds lovely, Highness, thank you,” Mika manages, hastily climbing to
his feet with a deep bow.
 
Hajime hurries in, bowing as well and taking Mika’s arm. “As you wish, Your
Highness,” he softly says, bowing once more before guiding Mika from the room.
“Excellency—you can’t go wandering off like that.“
 
“If I hadn’t, nothin’ would’ve come of today, either,” Mika hisses back,
clinging to Hajime’s arm all the same as his nerves just won’t settle. “There’s
people here that’ll really mess things up—nnh, I don’t know what t’do, I
wish….”
 
“His Excellency Shu is apparently here,” Hajime quietly interrupts. “I wanted
to take you to him.”
 
Mika nearly trips over his own feet. That bit of information doesn’t help his
anxiety—it only makes it grow, no matter how he finds himself tugging
immediately on Hajime’s arm. “Please,” he begs. “Right now.”
 
“Actually—I’ll bring him to you instead, maybe?” Hajime quickly says, tugging
Mika along down the halls to his chambers. “That might be safer, you’re a bit
wound up.”
 
A bit wound up is an understatement, and Mika nearly vibrates out of his skin
in the confines of his room as Hajime disappears and he’s left alone, plucking
at the hems of fine silk until it starts to fray. Do I tell him? Does he
already know? How do I bring it up without him fixating again, did I make a
mistake trying to talk to Adonis like that?
 
A few minutes later, Shu enters. There’s an odd light in his eyes, which don’t
quite focus as he looks at Mika, then around the room. “Well,” he says at last,
“you’ve carved out a space for yourself.”
 
Stormclouds roil in his mind, distracting, dizzying, and he finds a chair,
sitting down carefully, schooling his face into a familiar mask. He hasn’t had
to wear this particular one for decades, but it shutters down easily now, mind
whirring. Milady uncharacteristically ignores Shu, fluttering across the room
to perch on Mika’s knee, resting a tiny glass hand against one of his fingers.
 
Mika lurches up, grabbing at Milady and clutching her to his chest. “Master—“
And then he bites his tongue, because who knows who’s listening, what if I mess
that up, too? He trembles, but he can’t stop himself from moving forward and
falling at Shu’s feet, clinging to his leg and burying his face against his
knee.
 
“No one is listening. I can still...I can still ensure that much, at least.”
The words sound flat and strange, in a combination of the magic saturating the
room and Shu’s emotions being held so tightly, unnaturally in check. “What have
you accomplished? Make your report.”
 
“I have a meeting with th’ prince tonight—apparently, he’s already workin’ on
movin’ slaves out of the South to safety.” Mika hesitantly lifts his head,
resting his chin on Shu’s knee. He hadn’t expected it to be so bad. Don’t
mention Nazuna—everyone has always told him that, and driven that into his
brain, but to make Shu shut down like this… “I…he’s been ignorin’ me for the
past few days, so I haven’t been able to do much ‘till now, I’m sorry.”
 
“Then you’ll have to work harder. You weren’t sent here to fail.”
 
Shu sits for another moment, then stands, agitated, hands wringing in the air
as if attempting to run over something that isn’t there. “I’ll be here now. So
you don’t need to be worried. I’m the Toymaker for the entire palace, now.
Quite right, too--I’m the best one there is, you know.” Odd, how easy it is for
his tongue to fall into old patterns of speech.
 
Mika’s fingers tremble where they curl around Milady, holding her tightly to
his chest as he warily climbs back to his feet, trailing at Shu’s heels. “I…I
know, I’m not gonna fail, I promise,” he quietly says. “Master—I don’t think
he’s gonna be around here long, I overheard a meetin’ today and he was turnin’
everything down.” Saying the name almost seems like it would be a summon.
 
“You’re talking unnecessarily,” Shu snaps. He looks back, and his eyes are
shuttered, with something wild and terrified behind them, and unbearably sad.
“I don’t want to hear that again. Go to your chamber, you look like you haven’t
slept in a week. I’m going to bed.”
 
“But—“ I haven’t seen you in a week, that’s why I haven’t slept.Mika sucks in a
sharp breath, glancing to the ground as tears well up in his eyes. “You could
come with me—the prince, he—he already gave me permission to be with whoever I
wanted, so I bet it would be fine—“ Please, I was so worried and I missed you
and you could at least pet my head, I don’t know what to do and I’ve never seen
you like this.
 
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shu’s voice is cold, and he leaves the room without a
second look, letting the curtained door swish shut behind him.
 
It ripples again after a moment, but it isn’t Shu that reappears, but an
enormous red-headed man, clad as a guardsman in rough leathers. The man looks
around, then sees Mika, and walks forward. “You’re Mika, yeah? You remember me?
You was just a lil’ thing back then...”
 
There’s probably little more terrifying than someone huge, not entirely
familiar, and definitely not Shu at a time like this. The voice is familiar
enough, but compromised sight doesn’t make it easier, and Mika scuttles back,
clutching Milady tightly. “K…Kuro, r-right?” he whispers, his eyes large and
dilated as he tries to focus on him and not vibrate entirely out of his skin.
“Why are you here?”
 
“Lookin’ after that guy, of course.” Kuro snorts, and squats down in front of
Mika, rubbing a hand over his hair. “Gods, you’re so small! I thought you’d’ve
grown a bit since th’last time I saw ya. Anyway, that guy’s not the only one
who cares about ya down here.”
 
He lowers his voice, and opens his hand, dropping a tiny carved metal snake
into Mika’s palm with a wink. “My Captain, ya hear?”
 
Mika’s lower lip wobbles, and he immediately closes his hand around the piece
of metal before stumbling forward and helplessly throwing his arms around
Kuro’s shoulders, clinging to him. “I d-d-don’t know what I did wrong,” he
whimpers. “M-Master h-hates me, I swear I’m tryin’, I—I j-jus’ don’t know what
else t’do and I know I’m not t-that good at this but he said he’d be here to
help me and now h-he hates me and I jus’ wanna go home—“
 
“Nazuna’s here.”
 
Kuro squeezes Mika like he would his little sister, stroking his hair and back.
“There, there, you’re alright. I got ya, don’t worry. It’ll be fine, he’s just
havin’ one of his Nazuna fits. You...you never seen one?”
 
Mika shakes his head firmly, sniffling as he buries his face into Kuro’s
shoulder, dripping makeup and not giving a single damn. “I k-know who he is,
and n-not to mention him, b…but it’s never…Master’s never…” he flutters a hand,
struggling to find the words. “Been like…like that.”
 
“Yeah, but ya never saw Shu right when he’s bumped into him in the hallway a
minute before,” Kuro says with a sigh, sitting on the sturdiest-looking chair
in the room, plopping Mika down on his knee. “What do ya know?”
 
Mika curls up into a tiny ball, Milady and the tiny metal snake held close to
his chest as he tries not to shake, fails, and huddles up even smaller. Kuro
isn’t Shu, but he’s warm, not implying he’s a failure, and not the reason he’s
crying (yet). “N..not much,” he softly answers, trying to catch his breath.
“Jus’…jus’ that they used to work together, or somethin’ like that? And they
had a bad fallin’ out…”
 
Kuro sucks in a breath. “If ya don’t mind,” he offers gently, “I’d like to tell
ya the story. But only if ya wanna hear it. Shu said y’might not wanna spend
time with me, somethin’ ‘bout an hourglass makin’ ya blink too much?”
 
“I can’t see that kinda thing right now.” Mika’s head thunks into Kuro’s
shoulder. “And I wanna know so I can make sure Master really doesn’t hate me
now.”
 
“All right. Then get comfy, kiddo. This is gonna be a long tale. You need some
o’that honey water they drink down here?”
 
“No, and I’m not a kid,” Mika mumbles, fidgeting and pulling a handful of his
hair over his shoulder to braid the little snake up into it. “Start tellin’ or
l’m quittin’.”
 
 
“Alright, alright. This story starts a long time ago, when me and Shu were just
rugrats.”
***** Chapter 18 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
The Itsuki house is not a noble one. Technically, it shouldn’t even have a
family house name. Only nobles are allowed crests, but the Itsuki house has
always been a little...special. They don’t live exactly inside the Capital, but
on the outskirts, keeping the eyes of those who would care slightly off of
them. Anyone higher can’t be bothered to look down at a merchant house, no
matter how wealthy they had once been, and no one below them dares to anger
them. 

At least, that’s how it had been years ago. Shu doesn’t know anything about
that, since it had been over by the time he was born, and subsequently raised
in a drafty old house by his formidable grandfather and occasional visits from
his parents. 

The current dilapidation of the house is currently Shu’s first concern. He
bustles around the drafty old building, cleaning whatever he can reach,
snapping at the one elderly maid that still remains with his family after their
fortunes had turned. He buffs out every metal surface to shining, feeds the
fires and turns up the lights, beats the carpets, and even scrubs a few floors
before changing into his finest suit, tying an immense cravat far too large for
his eleven years under his chin. 

“Young Master, you should be outside playing with the other children,” the maid
says with a sigh. “It ain’t natural, a boy of your age bein’ stuck inside with
this lot.”

“I hate the other children,” Shu says with a sniff, bustling over to his
family’s display fabric, pulling out a brush and attending to every vibrant
inch. 

“But y’want to spend time with the Coin-eater’s son?” she asks, baffled. “That
lil slip of a thing--Young Master, he don’t even talk none.”

“He’s far more intelligent than you are,” Shu snaps. Even if she just chuckles
at him, he still feels guilty for saying it. “I just want everything to be nice
when they arrive. It’ll help Father to make a better deal.”

A whistle echoes through the heavy front door, and Shu runs as fast as he can,
throwing it open to see Kuro. The son of his father’s blacksmith, Kuro is
already a head taller than he and twice as broad, sitting astride an enormous
horse. “Yo! The lil master’s comin’!”

Shu turns white, and dashes up to his oubliette, powdering his hair, then
painting the corners of his eyes with liquid kohl. He carefully checks
underneath each fingernail, then checks his cravat again, fluffing it as far as
he can. He dons his fanciest coat, fastening his cufflinks as he runs back down
the stairs, violet eyes alight as he opens the heavy front door again, just in
time to bow to the Master of Coin. 

He’s a small, blond man with a wispy mustache, but Shu doesn’t care about that.
He cares about the small blond boy behind the man, still looking like a
perfect, lovely doll. “Welcome, Coinmaster,” he says, sweeping an elegant, low
bow. “The bolts are ready for your perusal, but may I offer you a beverage--”

“Where is your grandfather?” the Master of Coin responds airily, and Shu
stiffens. His family far outranks this man, but his natural instinct to be
gracious to Nazuna’s father stays his tongue. 

“On his way,” he manages, though his blood pulses hot in his cheeks. “But I--”

“You two go play,” the man interrupts again, giving his son a shove to his
back. “I’ll wait for the adults.”

Bitter annoyance rises in Shu’s mouth like bile, but the opportunity to run off
with Nazuna is far more exciting, and he hesitantly reaches for the boy’s hand,
tugging him up the long staircase to his chambers. “I got two new dolls,” he
says quietly, excitedly. “Do you want to see? I gave one of them hair like
yours, she’s the prettiest one.”
 
Nazuna, even tinier than Shu for his age, trails a step behind, even as he
holds onto Shu’s hand without protest. The hair in question makes him look far
more like a little girl than any boy, trailing long and sleek past his
shoulders, with pieces of it pulled back into tiny braids. “…You can show me,”
comes the eventual, skeptical response. Nazuna’s voice also doesn’t make it
easy to determine male or female, especially with the soft, lisping addition
that comes with certain letters. Shu, at least, doesn’t chide him for that,
which is why occasionally talking around him isn’t the worst.
 
Shu blinks tears out of his eyes. “You’re so cute,” he nearly whimpers, fingers
stroking over the boy’s soft hands. He tugs him into the room, immaculately
kept, and pulls his new favorite doll off of the shelf. “I made all of her
clothes, of course, by candlelight in the last few days. Do you like her shoes?
They’re real kidskin, you know!”
 
It’s one thing when older people—usually, older adult men that think he’s a
little girl and find out that he’s a little boy and are strangely more excited
by this fact—are like Shu. It’s another thing when it’s another eleven year-old
who he should be able to play with without this sort of thing…but whatever,
it’s easy enough to ignore when Shu is nice to him, even with the strangeness
attached. “That’s…very impressth—“ Nazuna’s lips purse in annoyance as his
tongue catches up on the word. “You’re good at that,” he settles upon instead,
huffing a little. “My father…he hates dolls.”
 
“I know. He wouldn’t even come up and look at my finest dolls--as though he’s
in a position to refuse someone of my standing, ha!”
 
Shu smoothes the doll’s dresses down, and assures Nazuna, “You can talk and
I’ll wait, or I’ll just do all the talking, and I’ll never get tired of it. I
think you’re the most wonderful in all the world, you know? Oh, I made you a
present.”
 
He shifts forward, grabbing a crate from beneath his bed, pulling out a round
floppy hat of the finest wool, emblazoned with a silver wrought brooch, set
with a few garnets. “I wanted rubies, but Grandfather won’t give me any until
I’m thirteen,” he says with a huff. “Garnets compliment your eyes well enough,
I suppose, for now.”
 
Someone of your standing—Nazuna decides it’s not nice to tell Shu about how his
father laughs about the Itsuki house with his friends and business partners,
and instead, he eyes the gift with wariness that he can’t help. Gifts, his
father has taught him, are to be accepted only if the receiver doesn’t mind in
being some sort of debt. “…Why?” he carefully asks, his eyes flickering up to
meet Shu’s gaze. “You’re always like this…why?”
 
Shu flushes, dropping the hat into his lap. “If you don’t like it, you don’t
have to take it. It’s just--it’s nothing, it’s stupid, obviously it isn’t...”
 
He breathes in deeply, biting his bottom lip. “The children around here think
I’m strange,” he finally says. “Everyone around here is a rough peasant’s
child, they think I’m too good to play with them. They’re right, I am too good
to play with them,” he adds, with the air of someone who has told himself that
a hundred times, usually while crying at being left out of something.
 
Nazuna quietly drops down onto the edge of Shu’s bed, smoothing the long,
ruffled ends of his coat down over his lap. You are strange, he wants to say,
but he doesn’t, and instead kicks his feet slowly, thinking. After another
moment, instead of replying, he reaches over, pulls the hat out of Shu’s lap,
turning it around in his hands. “You’re…a fine tailor,” he softly says. “But my
father…” He doesn’t care about anything like that, he just cares about money.
 
“I don’t care about your father,” Shu says, though he keeps his voice low, just
in case Nazuna’s father is passing close. “Keep it. If you can’t wear it now,
put it in your coat, save it for some time you need to look your best. Ah, but
I think you always look your best, you know.”
 
At that, Nazuna’s head tilts, but he does just that, stashing the hat into his
coat. “I’m a boy,” he softly says. “You know that. Right?”
 
Shu blinks. “That’s a boy’s hat. I’d give you a girl’s hat if you were a girl,
you know.”
 
“…But you act like…a boy does with a girl. With me.”
 
“Don’t think about that,” Shu says, a bit irritable now. “Saying things like
that is so unpleasant. I like you for who you are, you know, and for how
beautiful you are. Most boys aren’t, you know.”
 
Nazuna opens his mouth, then decides against his next reply, and instead
glances back down at his lap. “Looking like this…is annoying,” he eventually,
softly says instead. “Other children think I’m strange, too.”
 
Shu’s heart feels like it’s going to burst. He picks up Nazuna’s hand again,
gently rubbing it, and says fiercely, “We’re both better than they are. You
should come and work for me, when I take over the business. I’ll dress you all
the time, and we’ll revitalize the entire mercantile industry on this whole
continent, and no one will ever call you strange again.”
 
“Father won’t let that happen.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but admitting
things around Shu…that just happens sometimes, and it’s stressful, when he
normally doesn’t see a reason to talk at all. “He…he wants to buy your family
out. I think.”
 
That makes a strange fear curl in Shu’s insides, coiling around his lungs.
“That, that won’t happen,” he manages. His vision sparks oddly at the side, a
little fizzle of light, and he turns his head, but nothing is there. He blinks,
and shakes his head. “Running our clothier isn’t just about owning the
machinery, you know. As soon as I take over, I’m going to make big changes.
Fashions are going to change because I say so.”
 
“…I’ve heard them talk about it.” Nazuna bites his lip as he looks down at
where Shu holds his hand. “Father says…your family needs the money. So he’s
going to do it, because they can’t say no.”
 
Shu’s heart thuds. He can’t tell if it’s because of the horrible news, or
because Nazuna is holding his hand, because Nazuna isn’t pushing him away. “Our
name is worth more than money,” he says, but his voice is uncertain. Violet
fire flickers again, and he frowns. Is someone playing a trick on him? Kuro
sometimes shines a light into his room with a mirror when the light is right
and he wants to play.
 
Nazuna blinks, glancing over to where Shu keeps looking, but seeing nothing, he
looks back at Shu, unsure. “Maybe I’m wrong,” he quietly says. “But…I
thought…you might want to know. What would you do, if not…this?”
 
“Oh, I could do anything,” Shu assures him, a little frown creasing between his
brows. The light doesn’t come again, so he relaxes. “If Father is stupid enough
to sell the business, I’ll become famous on my own and buy it back. It’s my
father’s fault, you know. My grandfather’s designs are fine, but mine are still
better. I’m going to try to take over sooner, so that will definitely save it
all. Ah, you’re so sweet for worrying about me, though.”
 
Shu reaches out, almost touching Nazuna’s face, but pulling his hand back at
the last moment.
 
“You definitely think I’m a girl, don’t you.”
 
“Nazuna, I gave you a boy’s hat,” Shu reminds, shaking his head in disapproval.
“I’m going to need you to keep up with the conversation.”
 
“But I bet you would dressth me—“ Always that longer s—his tongue likes to
catch on it, and that’s frustrating. “…like a girl.”
 
“The reason my fashion is better than any of the others,” Shu says with a
sniff, “is that I can find the true, timeless beauty in any clothing, without
saying whether it belongs to men or women. Ah, here, I have an example.”
 
This probably isn’t what anyone had in mind when they told Shu to take Nazuna
upstairs and play, but he throws open his wardrobe, pulling out a full set of
clothing. “I designed this for me,” he explains, laying out the clothes on the
bed. “Look at the accents--no one in the world does them like I do, and I’m
eleven. Ah, don’t look at the hems, I’m--I’m not really done yet, I’m going to
clean those up.”
 
Unable to help himself, Nazuna reaches out, absently touching the fine
material. He doesn’t really understand it, honestly; his father has always made
sure that he’s dressed nicely and in fine clothing, but if Shu says it’s
something special, it probably is. You should make me something like this, then
he almost says, but bites his tongue. That’s probably too strange. “But it’s
annoying, when people can’t tell,” he says instead. “At least, for me.”
 
“What do you want to do, once I take over?” Shu presses, straightening the
cuffs and tails when his suit is all laid out. “I wouldn’t mind supporting you
for your whole life, you know.”
 
“…that sounds like marriage.”
 
Shu flushes. “Well, if you want to marry me, that’s...”
 
Light flashes. Pain shoots through Shu’s head with his next heartbeat, and he
winces, hand to his temple.
 
Nazuna frowns, and he shifts, watching Shu with enormous, worried eyes. “Two
boys can’t get married,” he reminds him patiently. “Are you all right?”
 
“H-headache,” Shu grinds out through clenched teeth. It doesn’t subside,
growing behind his eyes, such a suddenly sharp pain that he sits heavily on the
bed, vision swimming violet. “P-please, ignore me, I’m--I’ll be fine in a
moment.”Why now? he wonders frantically, hand pressed to his head. This has
happened before, but never this strongly. Why when he’s here, after so long?
 
“Should I…should I go get your grandfather?” Shu looks like he’s in enough pain
that Nazuna reaches out, hesitantly, gingerly laying a hand on Shu’s shoulder.
Normal headaches don’t look like that…right?
 
That soft hand clutching at him is like a lifeline. Shu clings to it, sucking
in air, trying not to grip too hard when Nazuna is so delicate he looks like
he’d bruise like a ripe peach if anyone even looked at him a moment too long.
Slowly, the pain recedes, and he smiles shakily. “I’m fine, I just--”

Power wells suddenly from his core, about to erupt. He feels it a second before
it explodes, and knows with horrifying certainty exactly what is about to
happen. He’s heard of wizards blooming before, about all the loved ones left in
their bloody first wake, and sees Nazuna, looking at him with concern. Time
slows to a halt, his mind racing, given a supernatural clarity he’s never had
before. He feels his own time ticking, knows it’s about to happen, can sense
everything around him, including--

Including his only hope.

With a speed that his father never would have imagined from his youngest, least
athletic son, Shu sprints the three steps to the window and hurls himself out,
plummeting to the ground below. Just before he hits the ground headfirst,
putting an end to this before it happens, two big arms catch him, and Kuro’s
voice says, startled, “Yo, what the hell are--”

Shu screams, trying to get away from his oldest friend, knowing with horrible,
bloody certainty that he’s doomed him, cursed him to death as the violet fire
rips out of him.

Then all he knows is pain, and the scent of blood fresh in his nose, and the
world tearing itself apart.

~

“Shu.”

 Not yet, it hurts, I can’t--

“I can see ya fluttering your eyes, ya know.”

That voice is so familiar that Shu’s eyes flash open, fixing on Kuro’s broad,
solid form. “H-how?” he whispers, voice cracked and raw.

Kuro shrugs, and Shu notices that he’s naked. The world swims more into view,
and he recognizes Kuro’s hovel, on the edge of his family’s lands. He’s in
Kuro’s bed, with a threadbare blanket over him, as naked as Kuro. 

Kuro shrugs massive shoulders, always looking too-big in his own small house.
“You went kinda......melty. Everythin’ blew up.”

“But you...”

He shrugs again. “Guess that’s a thing.”

What he leaves out is what they all know, but don’t speak about--the fact that
Kuro and his sister have different fathers, that his mother had come to town
with a swollen belly and the blacksmith had fallen in love with her
nonetheless. He and Shu have had lots of starry-eyed conversations of
speculation about it, wondering if perhaps Kuro’s real father was a god, or a
demon. Looks like we were right.Before he says anything else, he asks,
“Nazuna?”

“Gone. Not dead,” Kuro assures him, after Shu’s face changes. “Him an’ his dad-
-”

But then there’s a pounding on the door, and Shu sees his first wizard, and
everything changes.
***** Chapter 19 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Life at the Academy is exactly what Shu anticipated. Kuro had offered that
perhaps it would be better, that Shu would be happier surrounded by people more
like him.

 Fool. There is no one like me.

That becomes readily apparent. No one takes to the magic like he does. Shu
finds himself immediately fascinated by the magic his teachers show him, but
almost immediately after bored by their reluctance to show him anything
advanced. He spends his time studying every night, until he runs out of books
that he hasn’t read. His classmates fear him, which makes him feel sick. It’s
easier than being despised, though, so he takes it, turns his nose up at them,
and sets himself further apart.

Frustrated and eager for something else to do, Shu finds himself in the
tailor’s quarters, offering his services. Within a month, he’s taking a stack
of tattered robes to his rooms every night, returning them the next day. And
distressingly, it’s with an armload of ragged fabric that he first runs into
the infamous Emperor of the Academy, headfirst.

Fabric goes flying everywhere, and Shu curses, dropping to his knees to gather
all of the robes. “I do hope you watch where you’re going,” he snaps, not
meeting the stranger’s eyes. “Now all of these are going to need to be cleaned,
you know!”
 
The Emperor in question watches, sort of vaguely amused, before he slowly
kneels to scoop up the now thoroughly mixed up stack of papers he himself had
been carrying, tucked underneath one arm. Keito can deal with that later. “I
had heard you were touchy, but that’s apparently an understatement,” he lightly
says, straightening up and continuing to watch Shu collect and fold robes. His
own robes are pristine, perfect white, trimmed in gold that’s a few shades
darker than his own platinum hair, tied back into a neat little tail at the
back of his neck—but otherwise, there is admittedly little to denote him as the
Emperor, and Eichi thinks it’s funny that way. “How cute.”
 
Shu sniffs. “You must be a visiting wizard. Well, pay attention, because the
next time you visit, you’ll see me running this entire place.”
 
“Oh?” Eichi’s head cocks, his eyebrows raising. “Are you usurping the Emperor,
even?”
 
“Ha!” Shu gathers all of the cloaks into a pile, mind already whipping into
what he’ll be doing that night, which mainly entails courting a few old
contacts in the business, trying to get better fabric delivered. “Once that old
man sees how talented I am, he’ll be begging me to run things.”
 
“Eh? You think he’s old?” Eichi tries not to pout at that. “Maybe you’re too
young to think about running things, but the Emperor is certainly not old.”
 
“He’s been running the Academy for sixty years,” Shu says, waving his hand.
“And everyone knows that he was already an established wizard when he took
over. So he must be on the verge of death. Mark my words, I’ll be running this
place in a decade.”
 
“Or maybe, you aren’t so sure about how magic truly works to preserve the
strongest, little boy.” Eichi leans forward to better be eye level with this
haughty little brat, his head tilting to the side. “You’re very sure of
yourself, aren’t you? You’re lucky I think that’s cute.”
 
Something in the stranger’s voice makes Shu hesitate. He freezes, and looks up
with all the gravity of a thirteen-year-old, a bit of dread uncurling in his
belly. He swallows hard, and lifts his chin. “So. You’re the Emperor. You--you
think it’s funny to go around in disguise?”
 
“You think this is a disguise? Even cuter. I’m not in disguise, this is just
how I look.” Eichi smiles as he straightens up, amused at how adorably small
this little upstart is. “Still think I’m an old man?”
 
Shu bristles, but just barely refrains from lashing out with his tongue. He
lifts all of the cloaks, and huffs. “Well, maybe you don’t look so old. But you
should still make certain that your ideas are good. Because I’m going to
graduate early and become the most powerful wizard in the world.”
 
“Ahh, are you? Charming. You’ve some competition, you know.” Eichi’s eyes lid
as he watches Shu. “Especially if you’re spending all your time sewing as well,
but who am I to stop you? You have a talent for that, at least.”
 
“You should open up the library,” Shu says, before he can stop himself. “I’ve
read everything I’m allowed to, and my teachers won’t let me skip ahead. What’s
the point of keeping me in year one when I can do this?”
 
He waves a hand, irritated, and a nearby statue of a suit of armor moves,
clicking his fingers against his stone shield, head swiveling to look at Eichi.
“That’s year six magic at least, but they won’t give me anything else to do.
That’s why I’m sewing. Also, I’m better than all of your tailors.”
 
“All right.”
 
Unconcerned, Eichi unhooks one of the various keys jangling from his belt, and
holds it out with a smile. “If you want to study ahead, by all means. But
you’ll be expected to pass testing at the same time as second years, third
years—and on up, at their pace, on your own time. Also, you are better than all
of my tailors, aren’t you? What would you do if I allocated a bit of a budget
towards you remaking every cloak and uniform for this place, hmm?”
 
Shu perks up, and snatches the key immediately. “Excellent. My family has
connections with the best clothiers in the world, you know. I can get us far
more cloth and far better than you’d ever imagine, and at better prices, too.”
 
“Why don’t you draw up a plan for me to review, then? Have it to me by the end
of the week—and because you’re so advanced, I’ll give you two weeks before your
year two final, how’s that sound?” Eichi pats Shu’s head. “Let’s see what you
can really do.”
 
Shu’s eyes go wide, and he feels the first misgivings of nerves. His year two
exams, in two weeks? Is he being mocked? He swallows hard, and nods, because
he’s learned that. He cannot step back--it shows weakness. So he steps forward,
and squares his jaw. “I’m going to come in first place,” he says, runaway
tongue getting away from him.
 
“I’m sure you will,” Eichi sweetly says, stepping around Shu with a little
flutter of his hand. “Make sure to get that plan drawn up for me, or we’ll just
be stuck looking ugly forever, won’t we?”
 
“I always look beautiful,” Shu can’t stop himself from saying at Eichi’s
retreating back. “But I’ll get you into shape soon.”
 
~
 
Becoming a Nightcloak is all Shu has dreamed of for years. Once he has that
cloak, he’s always believed, he’ll be free to take assignments, to explore, to
use his powers at his own discretion.
 
It doesn’t exactly work like that.
 
In fact, not five minutes after he dons his Nightcloak for the first time,
Eichi’s smiling face hovers near him, informing him that he’s now too valuable
to lose in any unfortunate ‘accidents,’ effectively imprisoning him in the
Academy for the foreseeable future. That’s frustrating, but not horrible,
except for the fact that Eichi refuses to let Nazuna visit.
 
(He doesn’t visit often, but it happens sometimes, and every time is the
highlight of Shu’s year.)
 
He tries everything--but Eichi always seems one frustrating step ahead of him,
and he grinds his teeth, turning over the problem again and again. He spends a
hundred sleepless nights in a row, staring at his wall, trying to figure out a
solution. His mind ticks, and stops, and ticks, and stops. His exams were
nothing, his sewing a distraction, but clearly, what he needs is--
 
--is--
 
Simple.
 
It hits him in late August.
 
His real problem is that Nazuna, of course, as wonderful as he is, is not a
wizard.
 
Shu can fix that.
 
Blooming is usually a violent thing, but he’s smart enough, clever enough, to
ensure that it won’t be that way this time. He layers the spells carefully, one
over the other, embedding spells that most people have never heard of, let
alone would be capable of. The second Nazuna puts on the hat he’s sent (the
idea is brilliant, it’s brilliant, no one has ever been as smart as he is, no
one could possibly find fault with this, Nazuna will see how much Shu loves
him), he’ll ‘bloom,’ radiating power in a minor, earthquake-style way. No one
should get hurt, but it’ll feel like a wizard blooming to any Watchers nearby,
Shu is sure of it.
 
He sends off his package, and waits.
 
 
~
 
 
Keito picks through the wreckage of what used to be a counting-house, and looks
up at his young protege. “Well, Mao? What would you say happened here? I don’t
want your calculated guesses, I want your magical opinion. Use your senses,
you’re second-rank now.”
 
Second-rank. That rings in Mao’s mind as not good enough yet, but it’s good
enough for this as he looks up from his notebook and his surveying. “Something
enchanted was inappropriately used,” he says, tapping his pen against his
notebook as his gaze flicks about, a frown on his lips. “You can tell by the
kind of burn damage. I’d have to find exactly what it was first and foremost,
but I think it’s obvious something was…tampered with.”
 
“We’re here to ensure that the object, whatever it is, can be safely contained,
and hopefully to dispose of it.” Keito pushes his spectacles up onto his nose,
and inspects a piece of wood, inhaling deeply. The magical signature is obvious
to him, but this is a teaching exercise, after all. “Discovering who is behind
such a thing is a tertiary concern.”
 
Agree to disagree, sir, Mao wearily thinks. Keito, of course, hasn’t been
directly involved with handling wizards for a number of years. But he tugs his
cloak over his shoulders more securely all the same, and exhales a breath,
forcing himself to ignore the swirl of magic tracing back to an
individual—something he’s always been trained to focus on, ugh—and instead, on
the mess of convoluted, tainted magic at the scene of the explosion.
 
“There,” he softly says, striding forward and hopping over a fallen wooden beam
that once held up the house’s roof. “Can you help me lift—actually, never mind,
silly question.”
 
Mao sets his notebook down and instead heaves the beam aside himself, shoving
it a solid few centimeters to reveal a shockingly pristine hat underneath it.
“This thing,” he grunts, wiping the soot off of his hands. “Because of course
that’s what it is.”
 
Keito looks down at the hat, then closes his book, stashing it in his pocket.
“Well. That pretty much closes the investigation, don’t you think?”
 
“Apparently,” Mao murmurs, heaving a sigh. “If it was tainted—no, even just
enchanted…it’s amazing it even made it out of the Academy. The spellwork
required to make it not trip half a dozen sensors on the way out…”
 
“You’re going to do something about this, right?”
 
Standing at the edge of the wreckage, arms folded, foot tapping irritably, is
one Nazuna of the Nito household, looking as furious as one tiny teenager can
look. While he’s finely dressed, it’s obvious part of his hair has been
recently, and hastily cut—presumably, because of the explosion—leaving it
asymmetrical and quickly pinned to make him look as professional as possible,
even under stress. “Is the Academy going to reimburse me? This was your fault,
letting s-something like this happen!”
 
“Any actions committed by an individual affiliated with the Academy, but
without express direction or permission, is no responsibility of the Academy,”
Keito recites, almost bored. “While the Academy exists in perpetual affiliation
with the country of Yumenosaki, they are not an identical entity, and therefore
no reimbursement is possible. If there has been any loss of life, please inform
my assistant, who has authorization to offer minor compensation.”
 
“Ah, yes, hello, I—“
 
“He’s been harassthing me for years and you’ve all allowed it!”
 
Here we go, Mao wearily thinks, deciding not to move when Nazuna storms
forward, jabbing a finger directly into his chest. “If direction and—and
perm…per…ugh! To hell with this, you let him keep in contact with me and he
kept sending me things and making everything awkward and—“ Tears well up
abruptly in Nazuna’s gaze. “And now—now my rabbit’s dead!”
 
Mao honestly did expect more of a fight about the whole my entire business has
been destroyed, but this—this is unexpected. He finds himself at a loss of
words, and peers over to Keito, eyebrows raising. How do I reimburse for a
rabbit?!
 
Keito shrugs. “That counts as loss of life, I suppose. Good, that’s far less
destructive than a spell of this caliber should have been. Ah...my assistant
will compensate you for the cost of the meat.”
 
“He wasn’t meat! He was my p-pet!”
 
“You…have a pet rabbit?” Mao echoes, his brow furrowing.
 
“Had!” Nazuna is just shy of stomping his foot, and his teeth grit before he
shoves Mao’s chest. “Ugh, forget it, get out, this is still my property. Don’t
you ever let that wizard contact me again!”
 
“Excellent.” Keito grabs Mao’s arm, dragging him away from the smoldering hunk
of wreckage. “You’ve got the hat, right? How would you recommend disposing of
it? And, ah, containing this story?”
 
Mao firms his hold on the hat in question, stuffed underneath his arm.
“Perhaps,” he carefully says, “instead of disposing of it, we should hand it
over to a team of our researchers, allow them to pick apart some of the more
unusual spells on it to better understand how they work and to better prevent
them from being so common place, and blame the whole thing on a rogue wizard
that we will be capturing and dealing with accordingly.”
 
Keito frowns. “Hmm. Perhaps...” Perhaps you’ll find too much about the spells
and see who tampered with them.“No, best to dispose of something like that. And
the rogue wizard theory isn’t comforting to anyone who will wonder if another 
wizard will go rogue. Perhaps something escaped from the Shadowlands.”
 
“You’re right, of course. It’s smarter to say that it’s something from the
Shadowlands, especially with all the strange activity from there recently. As
for disposal…I believe only a Nightcloak can dispose of something this
powerful, or the Emperor himself, but troubling him with that…”
 
“If they’re the only ones that can do it, then they’ll have to do it, whether
they’re troubled or not.” Keito looks at the unassuming-looking hat with
distaste. “Perhaps, hmm...” He gives Mao a sidelong glance. “Perhaps we should
send for another Nightcloak than the ones currently at the Academy. Perhaps
someone with more experience in the Shadowlands.”
 
“But isn’t His Excellency Wataru perfectly well-versed in the Shadowlands,
sir?” Mao innocently replies. “I’m sure he’d be able to take care of this in no
time.”
 
“Right. Of course. You go on and take it to him, then. I cannot stand him,
personally.”
 
“I’ll do that, sir.” Mao offers him a beaming smile. “Don’t worry, I’m good at
handling the troublesome wizards. You stick to the Emperor, he likes you the
most.”
 
“Yes, I’m very grateful,” Keito says dryly. “Come on, I want to make it to
civilization before it’s dark.”
 
***** Chapter 20 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Mao, eldest, only, and decidedly disowned son of the Isara household, has no
time to help a little old man in the middle of the night, but here he is.
 
The late-night ride back to the Academy is frustrating, but necessary when
there’s simply no one else to deliver wizards to their posts in the capital.
That’s how he stumbles upon the old man, all wrinkled, tanned skin of a farmer
and jutting bones and with a permanently hunched back, accompanied by his
skinny, scruffy little dog.
 
“You’re such a good boy, helping me like this,” the old man gratefully says
behind his thick, matted beard as Mao helps him to his horse. The dog nips at
his heels, but Mao ignores that, courtesy of newly purchased leather boots.
 
“It’s really no problem—“ It’s a problem, a tiring one, but turning back and
riding the hour back to the capital could be worse. “Here, sir—let me just help
you up and I’ll climb up behind you, I’ll have you home in no time.”
 
A sliver of moonlight shines down over them, and suddenly, the old man’s skin
is much too pale.
 
Oh, gods be damned.
 
His horse startles, spooking entirely sideways, and Mao feels his back hit a
tree as he’s shoved back with a casual, effortless hand. He doesn’t see the
change, the way the old man shifts from hunched-back to strikingly tall, from
white haired and bearded to all sharp cheekbones and short, curling black hair
that shines almost blue in the night, and it’s a clawed hand that digs into his
chest, one long, curved nail tapping at his throat. “That took you much too
long,” Rei ‘greets’, a smile on his lips as he bends down to meet Mao’s gaze,
his barely laced shirt falling open. “Being tired isn’t an excuse, before you
offer it.”
 
Mao scowls up at him, but he doesn’t try to shove Rei away. Instead, he leans
back into the tree trunk and heaves a sigh. “What can I do for you tonight,
Master?”
 
The dog, previously nipping at his heels, circles around behind Rei, growling
low in his throat. The animal isn’t a scrawny little thing anymore, but instead
something that resembles a wolf, albeit still young and long-limbed, not
entirely filled out. His mouth full of sharp teeth, however, makes Mao nervous
when the creature fixes his golden stare upon him. “The Academy is bringing in
a necromancer,” Rei says, ignoring the probably-wolf. “Next week. I want it.”
 
It.Mao does hate when Rei calls things it. “All right. Tell me what to do,
then.”
 
“I can feel its power from here—there’s nothing you can do, not as you are.”
Rei’s nails tap against Mao’s throat again. “So we’ll have to do something
about that. You’ve reached a plateau, and I need that to change.”
 
Mao swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing underneath Rei’s fingertips. “I’ve
studied as hard as I can—“
 
“This isn’t something studying can fix. You need my help.”
 
Mao opens his mouth to let him know, very plainly, that more details are
necessary, but the words won’t leave his throat when Rei lunges, and the
sharpness of those fangs is all Mao can focus on. His limbs go slack, his
fingers curling uselessly into the bark of the tree behind him, and the slow
drain of blood leaving his body makes his vision swim, casting a more true-to-
life picture of the Demon King than anything even the moonlight can offer.
 
When Rei drinks his fill, Mao blinks dazedly up at him, and Rei thumbs away a
drop of blood from the side of Mao’s throat, licking his lips. “Sometimes,” he
quietly says, “properly handling things that come from the shadows require
knowing those shadows very intimately.”
 
He pets Mao’s hair once, light and fond, and tosses him back into the woods,
directly into the writhing, hissing mass of darkness that lurked there
previously without a sound.
 
~
 
The necromancer in question acts like a terrified little bird, and highly
resembles one, besides.
 
Even the strongest containment rooms within the Academy strain at the edges
with his presence. Mao can hear that now. It’s disconcerting what he can hear
now, and the sounds of the magical walls bending, trying to break, is something
he can’t quite forget.
 
As small as the necromancer is—no one has been able to get his name, and Mao
has tried, in spite of being discouraged from speaking to him—the sheer amount
of magic that pours from him would dwarf most blooming. Sometimes, the magic
comes to a stop, when the necromancer is so exhausted that he collapses, but
even then, there’s something…lingering in that room with him. Something not
alive, but something there all the same, ghostly and weird and unlike anything
Mao has ever read about in any book.
 
“There’s not much to be done,” the Emperor himself says, exasperated as he
stands outside of the room. He looks anxious, his face drawn and tight, and he
watches the window on the door warily, as if expecting the necromancer to come
explicitly for him.Mao has never seen Eichi like this, and that’s disturbing in
and of itself. “No seal holds him. He can’t be trained like that—he certainly
can never be in the general population, or be of service like this. I’m already
dealing with the largest death toll for a blooming on record; keeping around a
wizard like this is considered an affront on the crown, so it’s both a matter
of practicality and politics.”
 
He spreads his hands. “With that in mind—Keito, Mao, Wataru. I’d like your
opinions on this matter. Honestly, look at him. Killing him at this point
almost seems kinder, don’t you think?”
 
“I do so dislike waste,” Wataru says with a sigh, hopping up to lounge on
Eichi’s windowsill. His legs kick slowly as he weighs options, then he shakes
his head. “I can defeat his little beasties, but only once he’s already called
them. I do so hate being reactionary.”
 
Keito folds his arms, already on edge from Wataru’s presence, much more from
the antsy way that Eichi shifts and glares. “I can’t control him,” he says
bluntly. “And I don’t know of anything or anyone that can. An uncontrollable
weapon isn’t something I want around my people, quite frankly.”
 
“If Keito can’t control him, then I certainly know I can’t,” Mao offers softly,
his fingers lightly drumming against the notebook in his grasp. Meeting Eichi’s
gaze during this conversation is much more difficult than he had expected, when
his little sister’s body going limp repeats over and over and over in his mind.
“The lives of too many others are at stake. I don’t even think it’s safe to
dispose of him here.”
 
“You’re right, unfortunately.” Eichi scowls, tapping his foot. “Fortunately,
the expense of taking him to the Shadowlands for culling pales in comparison to
the expense of keeping a creature like that around. Wataru, do you think you
can handle him for the duration of that trip, at least? My own seals
are…remarkably ineffective.”
 
“I will make it safe,” Wataru promises, though his face is creased with
displeasure. “I...do not like this, Eichi. I want you to know that.”
 
“Displeasure noted,” Keito says, standing and heading for the door. “I don’t
want to put this off, if we’re going to do it. No use making the...” He
swallows. “The necromancer suffer.” That’s easier than saying the boy orthe
child.
 
“I wouldn’t ask it of you if I thought there was another way,” Eichi softly
says, stepping over to Wataru and gently lifting one of his braids, twining it
about his fingers. “It’s for the greater good of the Academy—for any human’s
safety as well. He’s not controllable,let alone trainable.”
 
“Shall I go prepare a traveling box suitable, then?” Mao shifts when Keito
does, turning towards the door after him. Rei should at least be satisfied with
this; if he’s there to meet and snatch up the child when Wataru arrives…
 
The containment seals on the holding room creak again, and Mao tries not to
flinch. He does, however, step further away, and instinctively closer to Keito.
Recently more powerful or not, it’s hard to remember that when he’s very used
to being decently above-average.
 
The second a ghost breaks free, Wataru launches himself at it in a blur,
grabbing it by the neck and snapping it, then landing hard on the ground. Keito
grabs Mao, yanking him under Eichi’s desk as the ground trembles, an
otherworldly wail echoing through the Academy, the walls shaking. He sees a
blue blur as Wataru leaps and twists, but even he can’t reach the creatures
that fly. One gets loose, ripping its ghostly way into the world with a
deafening cry, launching itself at the tower.
 
Then, abruptly, it vanishes. So does the shaking.
 
Cautiously, Keito stands, making his way to the window, then looking out at the
boy. “Eichi,” he warns. “He’s not alone.”
 
“What?!” Eichi lurches to the window again, and he curses underneath his breath
at the sight of that pink hair and heavy black cloak. “Fuck him and whatever
stunt he’s trying to pull this time,” he hisses, whirling away from the window.
“I hope he dies, I’ve had enough of this!”
 
“That…that feels very unlikely, Excellency,” Mao manages, slowly crawling out
from underneath Eichi’s desk. “I…correct me if I’m missing something, but I
can’t feel a single thing now.”
 
A muscle in Eichi’s jaw twitches. “Come with me,” he orders Wataru. “I’ll
settle this now if I have to. I don’t know what Itsuki is doing, but I can’t
condone it.”
 
Wataru, breathless and rumpled but looking vibrant and alive, falls into step
at Eichi’s side. “What a marvelous young man he is,” he trills. “I do hope he’s
as excellent as he seems, so clever!”
 
“Don’t you dare tell him that,” Eichi lowly snaps. “Not right now.”
 
Eichi can’t quite stop himself from being wary in his approach, however. The
magic might feel still, contained, but that’s fooled wizards far less
experienced, and Eichi does not like it. On top of that, he doesn’t trust Shu,
who he sort of wants to strangle right now. “What are you trying to do,
Itsuki?” he flatly calls, keeping a fair distance when he can remember the bite
of those damned creatures, and how just one of them had thrown them into a
bloody coughing fit for the first time in years. “I don’t recall authorizing
you to be around that thing.”
 
Shu doesn’t lower his hand, resting with one finger lightly on the child’s
temple. He looks up, something pained and glittering in his eyes, but his voice
is firm, resounding through the courtyard. “He’s under my protection now. My
apprentice. No one is taking him anywhere.”
 
Wataru steps forward, eyes wide. “Is he truly sealed? Shu, did you really do
it?”
 
A tiny hint of Shu’s old arrogance reappears for the first time since he’d
received Nazuna’s last letter, and he lifts his chin. “Of course. I am the
youngest Nightcloak in history, after all. Come, child,” he says, voice soft
again. “I’m taking you to my room. You’ll be safe there.”
 
The child—a trembling slip of a thing with long, tangled black hair and only
one tear-clouded, blue eye peeking out from it—is attached so firmly to Shu’s
cloak that his nails nearly bite through the fabric. Eichi’s lips purse,
unimpressed. “Is he sealed when you stop touching him?” he asks, folding his
arms across his chest. “Or are you going to have to have your hands on him the
rest of his pathetic little life? Your magic has been more than faulty in the
past; you don’t deserve an apprentice.”
 
“Eichi,” Wataru warns, shifting nervously in case either Shu or the little
necromancer explodes.
 
Shu doesn’t move, except to remove his hand, holding Eichi’s eyes without
flinching. No monsters erupt. “It isn’t faulty and you know it,” he says, low
and dangerous, and lays a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m taking care of him
now. Get out of my way.”
 
The boy lurches forward, clinging to Shu’s waist, his fingers bunched up in the
fabric of his coat. Eichi holds Shu’s gaze for a moment longer before he
exhales a low, aggravated sound, and steps back, but not without grabbing Shu’s
shoulder, his grip vicetight. “If a single thing is ever out of place because
of him, it’s your head,” Eichi lowly warns. “I don’t want to see him in any
class until you’ve personally proven that he can control himself like a normal
wizard can.”
 
“Don’t listen to that arrogant ass,” Shu tells the boy, nose held high, leading
the boy directly past Eichi. “You’ll never be a normal wizard. I can’t think of
a thing worse than that to be.”
***** Chapter 21 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
“And....well. Ya know the rest, I guess,” Kuro finishes, still petting Mika’s
hair. “Some of it make a bit more sense now, do ya think?”
 
“Some.”
 
It’s hard to feel anything but numb after having all of that told to him,
especially when the previously, neatly repressed memories of being scooped up
and saved by Shu are not what he needs to think about right now. Mika trembles,
his nails bending, not breaking when he digs them into Kuro’s skin. “I don’t
wanna talk about it anymore,” he whispers, shutting his eyes against the
uncomfortable, unsettled feeling in his stomach that won’t go away now. “I jus’
wanted him to pet me. And he won’t, so I wanna go home. Nazuna’s dumb.”
 
“Give ‘im time,” Kuro advises, patting Mika’s head. “It’s that guy, so give him
about an hour. I’ll go rough him up then and send him back to ya.”
 
A disapproving, grumbling little noise leaves Mika’s throat. “Didn’t seem like
an hour kinda thing,” he mutters. Shu hates me, he hates me, I’m too much
trouble after all.The annoying thought, no matter how illogical, won’t go away,
lurking at the back of his mind, whispering along with other noisy things, like
scratching nails and creaky bones. “I’m goin’ t’bed,” Mika murmurs, forcing
himself to let go of Kuro, his fingers running along the shape of the tiny
metal snake now braided into his hair as he climbs to his feet. “If he doesn’t
wanna be bothered…don’t bother him.”
 
“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” Kuro assures him. “I’m his oldest friend, it’s my job to
bother ‘im. You need help gettin’ where you gotta be?”
 
“No. I can do it myself.” Scary, but doable, and Mika bows his head, orienting
himself back onto his feet and turning towards the door. He pauses at the last
second, hesitating. “Did…did Izumi say anything? Arashi’s not comin’, is he?”
 
“Captain Arashi of the Sharps,” Kuro says, reciting, “is unable to attend, as
he’s in the middle of the preparations for his...”
 
He frowns, and grabs for the bottom of his jacket, and the words he’d scratched
on the inside of the lining. “Nuptials. Knew it was something about marriage,
but with an N. He’s gettin’ hitched, is what it means.”
 
The scratching rises to a dull roar, and it feels as if his heart drops into
his stomach. “I…I see. Thank you.”
 
The door slams behind him, and Mika hurries down the hall, barely even stopping
when Hajime catches his arm, trying to pull him to a more reasonable pace.
“Excellency—Excellency, what’s—“
 
“Leave me alone.”
 
“I—at least let me take you to—“
 
“Fine, do that, then leave me alone.”
 
Mika is grateful he can’t see the worried way that Hajime looks at him, and
he’s even more grateful for the chance to shut the door in Hajime’s face,
locking him out. Stuck in the Sandlands with Shu unable to even speak to him
normally, sealed and blind with scarcely a single lead, dealing with a prince
that’s honestly no help at all, no Izumi, neither of Izumi’s daughters, no
Arashi and Arashi getting married—
 
Mika throws himself onto his bed and pulls a pillow over his head, trying to
silence the screeching of every wisping ghost that’s at least a dozen times
more terrified than him.
 
~
 
To hell with Hintervalley and the Hinterlands and every single part of them,
actually.
 
Natsume has a hard time investigating much of anything when he’s so cold he
can’t function. When he wakes and Wataru is gone, his motivation to do much of
anything is far below normal, especially when he can’t shake off the fog of
vision yet conceived. That makes his life much harder, his ability to function
like a normal human much, much less possible, and so he mostly lurks about,
sulking, not exactly inviting a lot of helpful conversation.
 
The ruling family is who he needs to talk to, of course. Investigating them,
however, isn’t entirely feasible when he can’t even wheedle his way past their
gates, and so Natsume fumes, annoyed that a Nightcloak and the word of the
Academy isn’t enough up here. If I were Rei, he bitterly thinks, I bet they’d
let me in.
 
And so, as he lingers, moodily considering and gnawing his way through a meat
bun (the only warm thing he can get his hands on), he watches someone literally
scale down the side of the palace walls.
 
Is that…a thing in the Hinterlands? Do people just do that? Unlikely. Natsume
stares, watching this feat. Are palaces honestly so tolerant of that here? Also
unlikely. Maybe he should have just considered blasting open a hole in the wall
and letting himself in.
 
Souma of the Kanzaki house hits the ground feetfirst, rolling a little, which
is a lot more painful than it would be if he’d dropped his sword. As it is, he
picks up several new bruises, but comes up dusty and determined, even if he’s
limping a bit.
 
No one is sounding the alarm yet, which is a good sign. This hadn’t exactly
been an advance plan. If it were, he wouldn’t be wearing a ladies’ dress,
something that he tries to ignore as he takes to the side of the road, eyes
sharp as he looks behind him, trying to make sure he isn’t being watched.
 
Then a figure rises out of the darkness, and he stops, facing the small figure,
right hand going to the hilt of his sword. “Who are you?” he calls, voice clear
and demanding. “Show yourself, this is the Duke’s road!”
 
Natsume finishes his meat bun, entirely unfazed. Sword-wielding idiots don’t
faze him, and they don’t interest him, and they certainly aren’t worth his
time, but this one is kind of hilarious if only for the fact he just dropped
down the side of a palace…wearing a dress. “Who are you?” Natsume shoots back,
dusting his hands off. “No maiden, obviously.”
 
“I am...no one.” A shadow crosses Souma’s face. “I have no name any longer. I
am now only a wanderer, with no home.”
 
“Whatever. You look like some weirdly pure sword-swinger for sure.” Natsume
holds out a hand, brilliant green flame leaping to the tips of his fingertips
to offer them both more light in the dark. “Are you running away from the
palace? Why? And why are you wearing that dress, you look nothing like a
woman.”
 
Souma opens his mouth, then pauses, staring at the person confronting him.
“Aren’t you wearing a dress, stranger? You don’t sound like a woman. Ah! Are
you also running away from your noble parents, who are forcing you into
marriage as a woman to satisfy the agreement made with foreign dignitaries
after the death of your older sister?”
 
“Uh…no, but thanks for that exposition. You’re suddenly useful.” Natsume steps
forward, his eyes glittering. “You’re part of this noble house? You’re a
Kanzaki?”
 
“I...yes.” Souma’s eyes flicker back to the house, and asks hurriedly, “Perhaps
if we are talking, we could do so away from here? And perhaps you could stop
ending your sentences so forcefully? It feels intimidating somehow.”
 
“One more question—is your family involved in the trading of slaves? I’ll set
the palace on fire right now.”
 
Souma’s face twists in horror. “Slaves? Never! Such a thing would be the
ultimate dishonor! My family is an old, ancient one of ascetic warriors. If
such word is being spread, I will end my life right now.” He unsheathes his
sword, and extends his arms as far as they’ll go, attempting to get the point
at his chest.
 
“You’ve got to stop.” Natsume snuffs out the flame on his hand and strides
forward, smacking Souma’s sword. “Drop that thing and walk with me. I’m from
the Academy, investigating this stupid place.”
 
Sulkily, Souma sheathes his sword. “Is it the mines you’re investigating,
stranger? I can take you there. Or perhaps it’s information you require?”
 
“Both. But first, I want information, because you already brought up the mines.
What do you know about the trade there? What’s your name, o virgin ascetic
warrior?”
 
“Souma, of the Kanzaki house, second son of the Duke.” Souma bows, then
hesitates. “Ah, it makes me slightly uncomfortable that you keep referring to
me as a virgin?”
 
“What else could you be, look at you,” Natsume dismisses with a wave of his
hand. “Well, Souma of the Kanzaki house, you’re in the presence of the youngest
Nightcloak wizard, Natsume of the Sakasaki house. Like I said, I’m here on
behalf of the Academy—and you’re going to tell me whatever I need to know to
get to the bottom of the slave trade that’s been directly traced here,
underneath your family’s nose.”
 
Souma bows again, deeply. “Your titles sound very impressive! I’ve never heard
of you, however! What is your interest in my family’s lands, friend wizard? Are
you friend, or foe?”
 
“I’m going to set this entire city on fire to be warm if you don’t start
listening to me and tell me about the slave trade that I can literally trace to
your mines.”
 
Souma’s face changes, suddenly ferocious as he draws his sword again, lunging
forward with a yell, striking at Natsume.
 
Natsume takes a quick step back, and the ground where he once stood collapses,
dropping Souma abruptly down into the suddenly formed hole. “Don’t do that,” he
calmly orders, peering down at Souma. “Just answer my questions. Or I’ll assume
you’re part of it, and I’ll set you on fire, too.”
 
“My family is one of honor!” Souma yells, apparently unfazed by being dropped
into a hole where there wasn’t one before. He clutches his sword, looking up at
Natsume. “I’ll take you to the mines. You’ll see, I’m sure everything there is
perfectly legitimate!”
 
“So honorable they put you in a dress, huh?” Natsume mildly says, his head
tilting slowly to the side as he watches Souma. “While you’re down there,
answer me this: who’re you supposed to be getting married to, anyway?”
 
“I...don’t know.” Souma’s face clouds, and he scowls down at the ground, then
kicks at the side of the hole. “I was the youngest. I was to be a soldier, the
Captain of my family’s forces. My sister was offered in a trade marriage, but
I...” He flushes. “I never cared much for such things, I admit.”
 
“Mmm.” Natsume flicks a rock down into the hole, watching it bounce off the
side. “But it’s someone foreign, you said? Down South, maybe?”
 
“I don’t know,” Souma admits. “My family has some connections with the
Sandlands, but my valet says that there’s a Lord in the West who’s recently
announced a marriage as well. And I’d rather die than bring my family
dishonor,” he finishes fiercely, kicking at the rock. “So I had no choice but
to run away.”
 
Natsume exhales an aggravated breath as he straightens with a wave of his hand,
and the ground rises again abruptly, dumping Souma forward and flat on his face
at Natsume’s feet. “If you draw that sword on me again, I’ll cut your arm off,”
he threatens. “You said your sister died. How?” 
 
“Plague.” The word is soft, hollow. “Two days ago. She’d been out hunting in
the Northeast of our lands. Her whole group--two of them recovered, but the
rest...”
 
Natsume gnaws on his lower lip. That’s not the answer he expected, and he
doesn’t like it. “If you were anywhere near her and you’ve got plague and you
give it to me, I’ll haunt you,” he flatly says. “Get up. Take me to those mines
of yours that you say are so clean and slave-free.”
 
“I have no idea where the mines are,” Souma admits. “I’ve never been. But our
supplies come from...ah, this way!” He points, then dashes off down the road,
obviously expecting Natsume to follow.
 
Natsumehates wild goose chases, which is exactly what this seems like, but
fine—fine, this is fine.
 
‘The mines don’t have slaves’ and ‘I’ve never been to the mines’ are two very
separate responses, and it immediately makes Natsume suspicious and annoyed.
“You’re obnoxiously loud and fast,” he breathes when he catches up, grabbing
Souma by his long ponytail and yanking him back. “Aren’t you supposed to be
running away, you weird pure boy? Subtlety, that’s key.”
 
Souma kicks a little, confused at first at the way he’s being pulled back. “Ah.
Subtlety. Right! Surely, then, we should change into men’s clothes. Did you
bring any?”
 
“This is how I dress, and you’re insulting me and my family by suggesting
otherwise.” Not true, but it’s kind of hilarious to poke at Souma like that
now.
 
Souma’s eyes bulge, and he drops down to his knees in the mud, further soiling
his ruined dress. “I apologize! I will immediately commit suicide to atone for
my sins.”
 
“Yeah, don’t? I’d rather kill you myself but I’m busy. You are a mess, though,
what were your parents thinking trying to dress someone like you up as a
woman?”
 
Souma drops his eyes guiltily. “I’m...if I were good at pretending to be a
woman, I would have stayed and played my part,” he says quietly. “There was no
one else. All of my other siblings are married already. And my family breeds
true, there’s no mistaking someone of the Kanzaki line.”
 
“Get up,” Natsume exasperatedly says, honestly unable to keep watching Souma
ruin what was a perfectly fine dress. Shu must be rubbing off on him. “So
you’ve got an important enough marriage that your parents are willing to pass
you off as a girl, but you don’t know who it’s to. You’ve got mines that you
say don’t have slaves, but you’ve never even been to them. And your house has
nothing to do with slaves, but I ended up being led directly to it when I was
asking around. You’re clueless.” He scowls. “I guess I have no choice but to
helpyou, ugh.”
 
A wave of his hand, and the dirty, tattered dress swiftly melts into something
resembling the Hinterland’s typical male fashions. It’s an illusion more than a
permanent fix, but Souma can’t tell the damned difference, and if it makes him
stop looking so crazed, all the better. “There. Feel better?”
 
Souma looks down at himself, and relaxes. “Thank you. I will remember this
until my dying day. Should you ever request anything of me, you have only to--”
 
“Stop, you’ve got to stop.”
 
“Very well!”
 
Souma moves quickly now that he’s less encumbered, taking Natsume’s hand and
leading him down the road. “I’ve heard all my life about the glory of our
mines. Surely, you will be impressed.”
 
“Sounds like lies fed to sheltered nobles, but okay,” Natsume deadpans, not
protesting his hand being taken because at least Souma is acting more like a
human and not a frantic bug. “I’m not here to be impressed. I’m just making
sure they’re as slave-free as you insist upon.”
 
“If I may ask, why is the Academy investigating the Kanzaki lands?” Souma asks.
For the first time, he feels a qualm of misgiving about whether he should be
leading this wizard to his family’s stronghold.
 
“Suspicious activity. Don’t you want to get to the bottom of something that
could be harming countless people?”
 
“Yes!” Souma’s face clears, and his step becomes more sure, turning down a side
road. “Of course! My honor would never permit me to overlook such a thing!”
 
You’re honestly so easy, I almost feel bad, Natsume wearily thinks, trying not
to roll his eyes. The operating word is ‘almost’, however, and Natsume follows,
turning his nose up at the tell-tale smell of dust and ore and tampered earth.
“It definitely smells like mines around here,” he mutters, sticking out his
tongue.
 
“Indeed. You get used to the smell after quite a while. It’s sort of a nice
smell, I think! Lots of deep earth, and water, and good smelting.” Souma
regains his cheer with every step, knowing that he’s doing somethinginstead of
just running away from something. “Here, just beyond that rise. This far, I’ve
been before, though I was very small.”
 
Beyond the rise in question are the mines indeed—busy with smoke and dim
lantern light even at this time of night. The creaking wheels of carts,
dragging away raw ore, are grating to Natsume’s ears, and he frowns, stilling
on the rise with the best view, resisting the urge to use magic for a better
view on the off-chance there’s anyone enhanced involved with this whole mess.
Far more free wizards might be, but that doesn’t mean that everyone is their
friend.
 
What catches his eye isn’t the process of mining, however, but instead, the
occasional activity that seems to be coming from further North. His eyes
narrow, and he grabs at Souma’s arm, pulling him closer. “Over there, in that
direction—that’s the Shadowlands, right?” he presses, jabbing a finger in the
direction of darkly spiking mountains, only visible on the horizon courtesy of
the miners’ lights. “Have you ever been?”
 
“Yes, of course.” Souma’s eyes widen at the realization of what he’s said, and
he says hastily, “Only to the borders, of course! We go hunting up there
sometimes, the animals are...different. They have quite a bit of delicious meat
on them, but we always wait until they wander into our territory.” That might
not be precisely true, but it’s mostly true, and who can really tell exactly
where one territory begins and another ends, up there in the mountains?
 
Natsume regards him skeptically for a moment before his sharp gaze turns back
out over the mountains. “It looks like there’s another mine out there, over the
border,” he softly points out. “Judging by the smoke, and the lights.”
 
Souma shrugs. “That’s none of my family’s concern. Doubtless there are many
things over those evil mountains.”
 
“It’s your concern if your people are working over there. Or your slaves. Or
any combination of that.” Natsume grabs Souma’s chin, firmly turning his chin
to make him look at the winding paths that go through the hills, up towards the
Shadowlands. “That looks pretty well-used, don’t you think? Carts going up and
down those hills taking people and ore doesn’t sound too farfetched to me.”
 
Souma immediately pushes back against that hold, but...
 
His eyes narrow as he peers at the track, adjusting to the dim light.
“That’s...very strange. There aren’t supposed to be any roads up there, they’re
not on any maps.”
 
“Well, the roads are there, obviously.” Natsume releases Souma’s face with a
huff. “What kind of noble doesn’t know his lands like the back of his hand? A
useless one. You don’t want to be useless, right?”
 
“No! I do not want to be useless!” Souma grabs Natusme’s hand, guileless and
eager. “Let us investigate with all haste, and discover what cretin is making
use of my family’s honorable lands!”
 
“Excellent, good boy.” Souma might be easy, but that just makes him that much
more useful. Natsume would be a fool not to use that, and he’s not a fool—and
he’s certainly not going to disappoint Wataru or Rei. “Then let’s get to work.”
***** Chapter 22 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Night takes a long time to fall in the Sandlands. It happens slowly, the sun
sinking at glacial pace, the moon and stars already shining brightly,
mitigating the slide into darkness. Activity continues much later into the
night than it does up North, with parties and fetes lasting long after
darkness, brightly colored lanterns bobbing in the fountains, hanging from the
fragrant fruit trees.
 
People are still dancing and laughing when the curtain to Mika’s chamber opens,
and Shu enters. His eyes flicker in the low light as he approaches the bed,
gently settling onto the edge, then curling up behind him, his whole body
trembling. “Are you awake?” he whispers, voice pitched so low it’s almost
silent.
 
Mika, buried underneath as many linens and pillows as he can pile into a
makeshift nest device, shifts, albeit warily.
 
Shu visiting him should be a relief, but right now, it makes him nervous. His
thoughts, full of worry and doubt, won’t shut up, and nothing can make the
hissing, rasping whispers of things long-dead from churning around in his mind.
It makes Mika hyper-aware of everything living and breathing even though his
magic is so tightly sealed, and its with a wide-eyed, still mostly unseeing
stare that he eventually allows himself to move, turning over to face Shu.
“Sort of,” he offers in a whisper of his own, feeling himself start to tremble
in kind. “Master…I’m sorry.”
 
“Shh. The fault is...not yours.” Shu’s fingers shake, and he twists them into
his blanket, eyes squeezed shut. “I wasn’t strong enough, I wasn’t....prepared.
To see...something so...unpleasant.”
 
“I wanted to warn you.” Mika slowly shifts closer, less afraid of Shu’s
disapproval now that he’s not quite so…closed off. “B-but I didn’t know you
would be here like this,” he softly says, tugging one of his blankets over and
around Shu as well. “If…if I can do somethin’ to help, I will.”
 
“It doesn’t matter. I just--I wasn’t good enough.” There’s an odd light in
Shu’s eyes for a moment, but he shoves it away, brutally crushing it. “I
thought I was over it, I thought...that what I had done was enough. I was a
fool. And now I just want...to make certain I’ve done something right. With
you.”
 
“O…of course you’ve done somethin’ right, Master,” Mika mumbles, pulling the
blanket up and over their heads. “You’re th’ one that saved me. I…I don’t know
why, but you did, s-so I wanna keep tryin’ really hard to n-not disappoint
you.”
 
“It was selfish.” Shu’s never spoken of it before, never wanted to, and the
words are bitter on his tongue. “You’re so grateful to me, but it was just...I
wanted to show those bastards that I could still be useful. And when I saw you,
and you were so...”
 
He clenches his fist, breath going ragged. “You were so beautiful, and
talented, and they were just going to throw a person away because they didn’t
understand him, and...so, you see, it was just selfish.”
 
Mika shakes his head, and scoots closer, trembling fingers reaching out to grab
at the hem of one of Shu’s sleeves. “Y…y’weren’t selfish,” he whispers. “You
saved me. I…I wouldn’t’ve blamed ‘em if they had killed me. I’m…I can still
barely do magic like a normal wizard, I still can’t think like one, I…I’m
not…I’m not good for much if I’m not gonna kill things. Y-you could’ve rescued
someone a lot easier and smarter and better at everything t’show you were still
useful, like Rei did with Natsume, y’know?”
 
“But I...” Shu swallows hard, searching for words. “I’d only drag someone like
that down. That blasted Emperor hated me, tried to find any excuse to kill me.
I thought that anyone I touched would be dragged down with me. You probably
would have been better off without me, in the end.”
 
“Nuh uh.” Mika tugs on Shu’s sleeve. “If y’hadn’t saved me…if they didn’t kill
me, I would’ve wanted to die,” he whispers. “Without you sealin’ me…without you
helpin’ me, I c-can’t…you know I can’t even look at people, even regular
people, I can’t even listen t’someone talk w-without it hurtin’, with maybe
hurtin’ someone, you…you make that go away. Otherwise, they were right, I
should’ve been killed.”
 
“But now it’s different.” Shu’s voice is a whisper, and he lifts a hand,
brushing the hair out of Mika’s eyes. “You can seal yourself now, you can
control yourself. You’re a valuable, trained asset on the battlefield.
You...you don’t need me anymore. And I’m still--”
 
Broken.
 
Mika’s head shakes again, and he butts his face against Shu’s hand. “I need
you,” he quietly says. “I c-can’t control anything without you. Even if it’s
jus’ because you’re there, that’s…that’s enough, I dunno why, that’s jus’ what
I need. I’d blow up this whole stupid place if you weren’t here.” He lifts his
hand, curling it over Shu’s. “You’re so good, Master. I’m the one even Rei
won’t give a Nightcloak to, even if I can pass all the tests.”
 
“You don’t want to be a Nightcloak,” Shu says softly. “It means people expect
things from you. Things that are not always...Well. It’s not so much like that
anymore. I’ll happily give you my Nightcloak if you want it, you’re strong
enough.”
 
“If I was a Nightcloak, maybe people would take me more seriously and let me
take care of things that they only let you do. So then you don’t gotta work as
hard.” Mika huffs out a soft breath. “That’s…the only reason I’d want one. I
don’t wanna disappoint you. I…I don’t care if I mess up with anyone else, b-but
when you look at me like I’m a failure, I…”
 
Shu’s lips purse. “I thought, of all people, you understood the words behind my
words. I should be more clear, but...”
 
Gently, he ruffles Mika’s hair, then tugs him close. “Come here, let me tune
you up.”
 
Mika’s lower lip wobbles and he lurches forward immediately, burying his face
down into Shu’s neck. “I-I’m usually good at speakin’ Shu, but i-i-it was bad
t…timin’,” he whispers shakily, trembling as he fists his hands into the back
of Shu’s shirt. “Master, I hate this.”
 
Shu strokes him in silence for a moment, holding him close, hands
surreptitiously checking for any injuries he might have missed. “Has it been
worse than you imagined?” he asks softly. “I cannot think this would be a fun
time, but you did a very good job of making me believe it would be all right.”
 
“I…it’s not even that, I…” Mika sniffles, drawing back to wipe his nose before
it starts running on Shu. “I d-don’t even hate what I’m doin’,” he admits with
a ragged laugh. “Younger me…younger me would’ve killed for this, y’know? So
it’s not that. I jus’…I felt s-so lonely, and useless, then you snapped at me
and I kinda wanted to die. And then Kuro, he…he told me that Arashi is gettin’
married and—and I know he’s gotta, but it just made it suddenly sound so much
more real, you know?”
 
“Silly little crow,” Shu murmurs, continuing to run his hands carefully up and
down Mika’s arms, his back, his legs. “You should know better than to listen to
me when I’m speaking nonsense. And I’ll boil Kuro for telling you about that
when you’re working, you weren’t supposed to hear until after you returned.”
 
“I hate that,” Mika mutters, lifting a hand up to slowly unbraid the little
metal snake from his hair. “Izumin sent him, huh?” he sighs, running his thumb
along the snake’s back. “You’re right, I didn’t wanna know any of that when I’m
workin’, but I was freaking out pretty badly, so it’s not Kuro’s fault. Now I
can’t stop thinking about it…or about Izumi, and if our—his kids are okay, and
if Arashi’s okay, ‘cause he really can’t do it with girls at all…”
 
Shu raises his hands, resting his fingertips at Mika’s temples. “Need me to
take it away so you can sleep?” he asks. “I haven’t done that for you for
years, but I daresay I’d be even better at it now.”
 
“No. I slept all afternoon, I’m supposed to go meet up with the prince, but…”
Mika huffs, shoving his head into Shu’s hands. “He’s as bright as a sack of
bricks, y’know? Master, why’s everyone gotta be like that.”
 
“I think everyone is an imbecile, so how should I know?” Shu asks bluntly. His
hands pet more firmly, which Mika seems to enjoy. “I shouldn’t have snapped at
you, if you already have a meeting with him. Though that seems a little formal,
weren’t you given to him as a present?”
 
“He does not wanna do me,” Mika bluntly says, stilling once he’s being petted
to his specifications. “And he definitely tried to set me free, before I let
him know that I’m not all about that. He’s smugglin’ slaves out to safety, as
far as I can tell, but he’s not real forthcomin’ about it.”
 
Shu snorts. “Would you be? If your family owned the biggest slave empire in the
entire world? Maybe he isn’t a fool like you think he is. Have you given him
any proof that you’re working for Rei, other than just your word?”
 
“I don’t know what kinda proof I can give him, other than my word,” Mika
admits, blinking slowly back at Shu. “Maybe he’s not a fool with this kinda
thing, but he’s definitely not as smart as you, so I consider that dumb.”
 
“Don’t let that be your guideline,” Shu says with a sigh. “No one is as smart
as I am. You’ll go through your entire life believing that everyone around you
is a dullard.” He pauses. “And you’d be right. Continue thinking that.”
 
“Yeah, I already do,” Mika lightly says. “Aaanyway, he’s real frustratin’ to
talk to and is mostly concerned that I’m little and thinks I need to eat more
and I warned him I’m gonna puke on him if he doesn’t stop that.”
 
“If I meet him and he does that to me, I’ll probably light him on fire,” Shu
says frankly. “It’s a good thing I have you locked up tight.”
 
“It’s starting to hurt, though.” It’s not what Mika wants to tell Shu about,
but needs must. He huffs, flopping forward into Shu’s chest. “They’re mad.
Spirits don’t like being locked up. It hurts when they start callin’…probably
‘cause it’s been so long since I’ve had to be sealed like this, but, nnn…”
 
Shu frowns, and sends a bit of power down his hands to Mika’s head, venting a
bit of the built-up magical pressure into himself. It hurts, certainly, and the
skin around his eyes tightens. “Ah. Is that any better? You shouldn’t be so
tense, you’re far more attractive when you’re floppy.”
 
Mika breathes out a long sigh of relief, and nuzzles languidly back up into
Shu’s hand, his fingers kneading slowly into his back. “Yeah…yeah, that’s
better. Nnh, sorry, I know that can’t feel good for you.” His eyes lid, and his
fingers stroke down Shu’s spine as he finally relaxes, feeling very much like a
load of rocks has been lifted from his head. “I wonder if I could’ve gotten
this far if I hadn’t bloomed,” he wistfully thinks. “I know that’s prob’ly
gross for you to think about, but, I dunno, it’s about as romantic as a
prostitute gets t’be down here.”
 
Shu says nothing for a moment, just petting and being petted, listening to the
wind moan in the distance. Someone breaks a glass in a courtyard below, a tiny
sound among the laughing, the singing. “Sometimes,” he says carefully, “and
perhaps this is because my mind is ill, I will wake up in the morning and
carefully plan all of the clothing I need to make. I’ll throw back my coverlet,
get out of bed, move to the mirror and shave, and put on the same clothes my
father wore every day of his life, the versions that I always wanted to create.
Then I’ll head out the door, ready to put the day’s tasks into place...before
waking up again. So, no, I don’t think it’s odd to wonder about such a thing. I
planned for that life for eleven years. I can’t make that go away, just because
the road changed course.”
 
He shifts, and cuddles Mika even closer, bleeding a bit more of the pain away
as he talks, weaving it into the words to disperse into the air. “And perhaps
that man didn’t simply never come to be. Perhaps he exists somewhere, and so
does a version of you with two blue eyes and a princess’s dowry, and a version
of me who’d never met Rei. If there are any other versions of me out there...I
know they love you, too.”
 
“…Master, you’ve got a real way with words, you know?” When he blinks, his
lashes come up wet, but they aren’t panicked, anxious tears now, so that’s a
plus. “It’s selfish, maybe,” Mika softly says, his eyes lidding. “But I like to
think about…mm, maybe if Rei hadn’t come to the Academy for you…I dunno. We
could’ve really been somethin’.” He heaves a little sigh. “I like thinkin’
about never meetin’ Arashi a lot. Because I feel like…I made everything so much
harder for him. He and Izumin would’ve been better.”
 
“Know something?” Shu presses a kiss to Mika’s temple. “I wish you’d never met
him, too. Not that he isn’t good for you, but he just seems to cause you so
much stress. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure both he and Izumi would be far less
happy and put together without you, but...”
 
He huffs. “We would have made something very beautiful.”
 
Mika thinks less, acts more. It’s not helpful most of the time, but right now,
it lands his mouth against Shu’s—even if that’s stupid, and probably a terrible
idea, it feels nice all the same, because Shu is so warm and sweet-smelling and
good…
 
His fingers shake a little as they slide up into the ends of Shu’s hair, his
nails scraping against his scalp. “Sorry,” he says with a wet little laugh.
“I…sorry. Y’know, I thought…we’d be stuck in that brothel a lot longer, and I
kinda got my hopes up…thinkin’ we’d get to do that.”
 
“When you imagine it,” Shu asks softly, petting Mika’s hair without pulling
away at all, “how is it, in your mind? You and me?” Sorry, my lord, he thinks,
chagrined. It isn’t a real thought that he sends to Rei, but merely a stray
musing.
 
He hadn’t told Mika of what he and Rei had done, assuming he’d have to make
love to Mika in a brothel, how they’d found a clever way to throttle and block
the bond until it doesn’t make him sick. What he hadn’t expected was how little
it would bother him, in the moment.
 
Expecting a far more disgusted response, Mika can only blink back at Shu for a
moment, his lips parting. “I…mm.” His tongue flicks out, wetting his lower lip
as his gaze slides away. “I’ve always just thought about making y’feel good,”
he quietly answers, then adds, a little sheepishly, “though I honestly think
about it a lot more with you on your back—like, uh. All of the time, whoops.”
 
Shu’s face flushes dark red. “That isn’t the kind of thing that a good little
Sandlands courtesan should be imagining, is it?” The idea that it’s all the
time, not just since they started on this mission, makes him warm in other
ways, ways that make him feel vaguely ashamed of himself.
 
“Definitely not,” Mika blithely says, an amused little smile tugging at his
lips in spite of himself. “But, eh…jus’ because I’m good at bein’ on my back
doesn’t mean that’s the way I prefer it. So. I like thinkin’ about it.”
 
“That’s what I always suspected,” Shu admits, laughing even as his cheeks
flush. “Ah...perhaps we should continue this later. Don’t you have to meet with
the Prince?”
 
“Nnn…but now I’m horny,” Mika crossly grumbles, scooting closer against all
good sense to press against Shu, his fingers delicately tip-toeing along the
jut of Shu’s hip. “And the prince is a turn-off. Big, muscle-y guys aren’t any
good.”
 
Shu grabs Mika’s hand, raising an eyebrow even as he feels a twitch down south.
“What time were you supposed to meet him?” he asks sternly. “You’ve gone well
over a decade without having me on my back, a few hours isn’t going to break
you.”
 
“When the moon’s properly out.” Mika pouts, deliberately poking his tongue out.
“I look like a mess, though. You gotta fix my hair, I scared the bunny off
earlier when I felt gross.”
 
Shu rolls his eyes, then sighs. “It was properly out before I came to you.
You’re supposed to be doing your job, Mika. Get up, I’ll fix you.”
 
“Well, I didn’t know that, I can’t see nothin’,” Mika grumpily complains,
hauling himself up in spite of the vibrating little urge to pounce on Shu. He’s
not saying I can’t, what’s stopping me?“Bein’ blind is sooo stupid, but at
least everyone really does think I’m helpless.”
 
Shu stands, immediately fixing up Mika’s hair to his own specifications,
brushing his hands through that long batch of curls. “Yes,” he says dryly. “We
were so cruel to send you without an assistant.”
 
“I told you, I scared him. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t think he’d be so…that
way. He stabbed a guy the other day but if I snap at him, he skitters off like
a real bunny rabbit.”
 
Shu shrugs, and sets a few jewel sticks in Mika’s hair. “There aren’t too many
people who fit all of Rei’s criteria--totally loyal, and would fit in in such
places, not minding whatever they’d have to do. Also, he’s very, very lovely.”
 
“He is real pretty,” Mika admits, hiking up the layers of chiffon around his
shoulders with a sigh. “I’ll apologize to him later, I feel bad. But, mm, I
guess I better go, uh…flirt with a prince or something? I dunno. Thoughts on
how to convince him I’m really Rei’s? I mean, I know where Rei’s got seven
moles but I guess that’s probably not the kinda proof he wants.”
 
“Probably not,” Shu agrees. “Well, that’s the kind of thing that a spy should
figure out, don’t you think? Tell him who you are, how you bloomed. I hear it’s
something of a legend down here.”
 
Mika winces at that as he hops to his feet. “That’ll be convincin’, at least.”
He pauses, shifting where he stands for a moment before stretching up onto his
tiptoes, grabbing Shu’s face in his hands and tugging him down for a slow, wet
kiss. “I wanna make you feel good later,” he exhales as he rocks back down onto
his heels. “If you’ll let me.”
 
Shu swallows hard. Jaw clenched tightly shut, he nods, just once. “But let us
not speak of it now. I...mm. Yes. Not now. Or I won’t be able to send you
away.”
 
Mika nods, releasing Shu after another moment of hesitation. “Later,” he
promises, and pulls aside the curtain to make his way out into the courtyard.
 
“Excellency?”
 
Mika nearly jumps out of his skin before he reaches the pair of stairs that
lead out of his room onto white stone. “It’s just you,” he exhales, trying to
make his heart still. Now who’s the rabbit?“Sorry, I—“
 
“It’s fine, Excellency,” Hajime reassures him, taking his arm to lead him down
the stairs carefully. “I know you didn’t want to be interrupted. Um, please
allow me to escort you to the prince, however, I don’t want you to get lost.”
 
Hajime does just that, bringing Mika to the fountain that Adonis had asked for
him to meet at, and fortunately, he’s not too late. Mika bows, the gesture an
extremely apologetic one. “My apologies for my lateness, Your Highness—I, ah. I
was nervous, about meeting you.” That’s not entirely wrong.
 
Adonis stands at his entrance, as if he’s a noble lady, bowing over his hand
before sitting back down. “You look very beautiful tonight,” he offers,
gesturing to the bench next to him. There’s a plush cushion on the warm stone,
something Adonis has clearly brought with him, and a few bananas. “You didn’t
seem to like the meat. So I brought bananas.”
 
Hajime bows deeply before scurrying off to…wherever he lurks, which is a
mystery to Mika, quite honestly. Rei has a lot of those types, apparently. Mika
hesitantly steps over, testing distance with a touch of his hand to the bench
before he takes a seat, surprisingly graceful for all of his usual awkwardness.
Needs must, of course. “Thank you, Highness. I’m afraid you’re spoiling me.” He
glances around, for what good that does—the nightlife has died down somewhat,
but there still seem to be blurry shapes of humans out and about, and that’s
troublesome. “Did you, ah, want to take a walk? We can sit and talk if you
want, but…”
 
“I would feel remiss in forcing you to exercise before you eat,” Adonis says
staunchly, peeling a banana and handing it to Mika. “Go on. We can walk
afterwards. There is time, and the evening cool has just begun.”
 
“Do you…do you really think I’m that small?” Mika wearily asks, but takes the
banana all the same. Yep, Shu would hate every part of this, and would
absolutely set Adonis on fire. He obediently takes a bite. “Did you ever
consider that you’re large instead? No offense intended, Highness.”
 
“Yes. It’s better to be large.” Adonis says it without a hint of doubt. “I’ve
been small. My sisters used to terrorize me. Do you have any sisters? If so, I
hope they’re small.”
 
“I don’t know,” Mika answers honestly, and takes another bite. At least bananas
are easier to stomach than meat any day. “If I do, I never met them. Your
sisters are very frightening and extremely tall, which was, ah, unexpected.”
 
“Yes. They used to bully me relentlessly.” Adonis watches Mika eat with
satisfaction, nodding as he observes. “I’m larger now, so it isn’t as drastic.
Hopefully I can protect tiny people like you.”
 
“I think I’m fairly average for someone from the Sandlands, though?” Mika pouts
a little, but forces himself to finish the damned banana. “There, Highness, a
start towards my growing strength underneath your care. Can we go for a walk
now? I’ve been languishing for hours.”
 
“All right. I’m sorry. I was waiting for you,” Adonis reminds him, but stands,
offering his arm.
 
You’re far too kind with your slaves and whores,Mika wants to tell him, but he
bites his tongue, and instead reaches out to gingerly lay his hand on Adonis’s
arm and climb to his feet. “The moon’s so bright here that it hurts even my
eyes,” he quietly says. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been in the
Sandlands, but that’s still the same.”
 
“Your Sandtongue is very good. Your hand is cold, though, so please warm it on
my arm.” Adonis sets a slow pace, taking the winding garden path. “I hope you
haven’t been unhappy here. Please tell me if anyone is bothering you.”
 
“I grew up here, so it’s nothing new. It’s just…been awhile.” Adonis is a
furnace, which isn’t a bad thing, especially when the night starts turning
cold. Mika fights down a shiver, and pulls some of his hair over his shoulders.
“This palace is honestly a dream come true,” he absently says. “When I was
little, I never thought I’d see a place like this. To be a gift for a
prince…ahh, I’m really not worthy. If His Majesty knew I was raised in one of
the Kincardine villages, he never would’ve bought me.”
 
That gets a reaction. Adonis’s eyes widen, and he looks over at Mika, nodding
to himself. “You do have that look about you, I suppose. But I don’t see many
people like you come from places like that.”
 
“For two reasons, hmm? No one gets out, and…well, most of it went up in smoke
awhile ago, huh?” Mika idly says, blinking up at Adonis. “Everyone knows that
story.”
 
Adonis shrugs. “I was too young to hear much of the news back then. I’ve heard
of it, though.”
 
Oh, god, I’m so old.“How…how old are you, Highness?”
 
“Probably about the same age as you, sixteen.”
 
“Oh…ah…not to correct you, but I’m…a bit older than that, I’m afraid?”
 
“Oh. I’m sixteen. How old are you?” Adonis asks, genuinely curious.
 
“About…t…twenty-four?”
 
Adonis blinks. “I’ve heard from many people that dancers always lie about their
age to make themselves seem younger. Does that mean you’re really in your
forties?”
 
“I’d look good for forty, I think,” Mika idly notes, his head tilting. “But no.
I think my broker told your family that I was in my teens, but honesty is the
best policy. I think it just means I sound more experienced.”
 
Adonis nods approvingly. “I believe in honesty. I think it’s good. I also
believe in...” He looks around, trying to peer into the shadows. “Freedom.”
 
Mika breathes in slowly, and forces himself to stay relaxed, his fingers only
briefly curling against Adonis’s arm. “It’s a nice word,” he carefully, quietly
says. “I found my own way to such a thing years ago. Do you know how?”
 
“No. I don’t think you’ve told me yet. And I haven’t spoken to anyone else
about you.”
 
“I destroyed all of the Kincardine villages within a three league radius.” Mika
lifts his gaze, slowing his step. “Do you speak common tongue?”
 
“No.” Adonis thinks for a moment, then slowly frowns. “I’ve heard about that
event. The person that did it was a child. A wizard blooming.” He looks at Mika
again, and takes in a breath. “That was...?”
 
Mika smiles up at him wryly, tilting his head. “I told you, I’m Rei’s,” he
softly says. “Nooncloak Mika, at your service. I wish you spoke common tongue,
we could be a lot sneakier.”
 
“I can start learning it tonight,” Adonis offers. “It might take a while,
though.”
 
“No…um, no, that’s fine, really, honestly. You’re just going to need to get
more forward about taking me to bed so no one bothers us and my cover of being
your helpless little slave stays in place.”
 
Adonis shakes his head. “I appreciate the thought, but such a thing will not
work. My bedchamber is the easiest place to watch. If you wish more privacy, I
can start taking you out on rides in the evenings. Do you ride?”
 
“If I have to,” Mika grouses, chewing on his lower lip as he thinks. “That’s
fine, so long as we aren’t followed. Either way,” he says, instinct making him
glance around even though that’s so useless now, ugh, “I’m here to help. Your
family…you know how involved they are in the trade, yes?”
 
“Of course. It’s a point of pride for them.” That careful impassiveness of
Adonis’s face comes in handy now, as he tries not to look disappointed in his
family. “I’ve always thought it was wrong. I can take you anywhere you want if
we go riding. Do you want to see the auction houses?”
 
“…Not tonight.” That’s something he’s going to have to prepare for, definitely.
“Do you know the names of any people particularly…involved? Don’t tell me now,
just think about it,” Mika quickly adds. “I want to be able to report back to
Rei and help him intercept at least some of this. Apparently, the capital is
involved and…not happy.”
 
Adonis shrugs. “Some I’ve heard. But I’ve always paid more attention to the
people in bondage than the ones keeping them there. I can take you to them, if
you have plans.”
 
“It’s not just a matter of freeing them, it’s a matter of stopping it
completely.” Mika’s head cocks, and he backs up. “Wait. You think the
capital…no, I was sent down here because the someone in the south took children
from the capital—that’s why the crown wants to capture the traders and free
everyone, they aren’t part of this.”
 
Adonis grimaces, leading Mika around a fruit tree. “Please don’t think I am
weak for what I’m about to tell you.”
 
You’re sixteen, how much can I really judge you? “…O…kay,” Mika warily replies.
“Go on, then?”
 
The duck of Adonis’s head is shame, couldn’t be anyone else. “I...avoid the
places that deal in children,” he admits. “I couldn’t see such things and not
do something. I know it’s not as much as I could be doing. I’m sorry.”
 
Thought retracted. Mika forces himself not to even blink, however, and he
shrugs. “Then it’s good I’m here,” he says instead, glancing down to his hands,
where he picks at fine gauzy silk. “I’ve lived that life. I don’t mind
involving myself directly if I have to. Rei sent me for that reason, so perhaps
between the two of us, we can accomplish something.”
 
Adonis’s smile is grateful, and he takes Mika’s hand, squeezing it very gently.
“I’ll do whatever helps,” he promises. “But if you make me see a child in
distress, I won’t promise not to help it however I can.”
 
“If you compromise all of this by being a big idiot, I’ll be very annoyed,”
Mika lightly replies in turn, patting the back of Adonis’s hand. “You have to
live to kick your family out of this place and take over for a far better rule.
The Sandlands can’t handle another generation of leadership that not only
allows this kind of trade, but likes it.”
 
“Yes, I know. I had a plan in place,” Adonis points out, disappointment
coloring his tone. “But then this aggressive move took us by surprise.”
 
Something stirs in a nearby bush, and he stops talking. Nothing comes again,
but the panic is real, and Adonis leads Mika away, saying loudly, “We will go
for a pleasant ride tomorrow evening. I’ll send you a servant to help you into
riding clothes.”
 
Mika nods, clinging back to Adonis’s arm and deliberately nuzzling up to his
shoulder. Adonis is warm and the night is already chilly, so why not? “I look
forward to it, Highness,” he softly says, squeezing Adonis’s arm. “You really
are spoiling me. Let me actually spoil you for a change, too—tomorrow, after
our ride, perhaps?”
 
“I don’t want to sleep with you,” Adonis says bluntly. “Good night.” Then he
walks off, leaving Mika next to Hajime.
 
“He makes me wanna scream,” Mika deadpans in common tongue. “Can’t he even play
along?”
 
“The prince is, um, very…particular, isn’t he?” Hajime manages, taking Mika’s
hands. “Maybe you just aren’t…”
 
“To his taste? I think that bit’s obvious,” Mika huffs, letting Hajime guide
him back inside, where it’s still chilly in the night, but at least somewhat
safer. His heart still won’t stop thudding hard in his chest, but hopefully
that will pass. “Master? You didn’t leave, did you?”
 
“Where would I go?”
 
Shu’s voice is quiet from the darkness, as if he hasn’t spent the last hour
watching Mika through the courtyard window, making sure that nothing awful
happens to him. “Surely, I knew you could do this much.”
 
“Debatable,” Mika bemoans, even if there’s relief in his voice. Hajime lights
an oil lamp in the corner, offering dim light cast across the room, and Mika
moodily grabs for the sticks and pins in his hair, tugging them free. “He’s
drivin’ me nuts. I came back to the Sandlands to be a whore, why won’t anyone
just let me be a whore?”
 
“Hajime, if that’s your name? Run a bath, an extremely hot one,” Shu orders,
taking the pins from Mika and setting them gently aside in his jewel box. “You
should know better. Didn’t you once tell me that being good at being a whore
was only a little bit between the sheets, and the rest was about how you
influence people? Something in your quaint, charming way. Surely you’re using
those skills.”
 
“I mean, yeah, but…ugh. It’s still frustratin’. Maybe I’m out of practice,”
Mika glumly says, raking a hand back through his hair to better shake it out
with a heaving sigh. “He’s sixteen. Sixteen, Master, and really acts like it.
It’s also real hard to influence someone that doesn’t find you attractive at
all.”
 
The sound of splashing water makes Mika jump even if he expects it, and he
huffs, rubbing at his chilled arms. “It ain’t fair that it gets cold here at
night, I wanna melt, not freeze.”
 
“I’d think you’d be used to it by now,” Shu says with a sigh, wrapping his arms
around Mika, pulling him close. “Honestly, you should be grateful this prince
isn’t trying to crawl between your thighs all the time. Wouldn’t that be more
distracting, and stop you from doing what you came here to do?”
 
“Nah, it helps me focus,” Mika confesses happily as he snuggles his way into
Shu’s arms, burying his face into his neck. “And I’m pretty good at makin’
people do whatever I want once I fuck them a few times, jus’ look at Arashi and
Izumin.”
 
Shu snorts. “They are foolish and easily-led, ha! Ah, be gentle, my shoulder
aches horribly.” And his fingers are full of splinters and holes, and his knee
feels as if it’s been frozen in place.
 
“You mean they’re men. That’s what you’re tryin’ t’say,” Mika teases, his
fingers sliding down Shu’s arms to gingerly take his hands. “If it’s too hard
on you t’be here, it’s…it’s not like you have to stay. I mean—physically
and…yeah.” Because of the name I’m literally just not going to say.
 
One of the curtains rustle, and Hajime pokes his head out. “The bath’s ready,
Excellency,” he calls, and Mika gives Shu’s hands a light tug.
 
“If you’re achy, bathe with me. C’mon, you can’t say no, you’ll feel better.”
 
“I suppose.” Shu carefully shucks his robes and folds them, then his
undergarments as well. Not for the first time, he feels incredibly self-
conscious when totally nude, and he quickly moves to the bathtub, hopping into
the water as quickly as he can without splashing. He hisses out a breath as the
water seeps into the splinters in his fingers, fingernails attempting to pick
out each tiny sliver. “It’s very, very hot,” he calls. “You’ll love it.”
 
Mika slinks into the water only a few seconds later, layers of silk discarded
carelessly on the floor in his wake. “You’re right,” he breathes, sliding all
the way into the water opposite Shu, propping his feet up onto the side of the
tub next to Shu’s shoulders. “I’m gonna die here.”
 
“If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call me,” Hajime softly says,
bowing once and leaving a small pile of towels behind before he pulls the
curtain shut behind himself.
 
“D’you have a needle? I can help get those out. I know, why let the blind whore
do it, but I swear I can feel things like that even more when I can’t see worth
a damn,” Mika says with a little shrug, wriggling his painted toes as he sticks
his feet out of the water once more. “Nn, Master, the Sandlands aren’t so bad,
right? I’d live down here all the time if it weren’t so…y’know.”
 
“I know.” Shu relaxes back against the edge of the tub, letting the hot water
ease his aches. “It’s very lovely,” he says, in careful, slow Sandtongue. The
language is very pretty, and he likes throwing in the occasional word now and
then, along with his occasional word or two of Shadowtongue. But the sentence
structure is difficult, and he will only attempt that when alone with Mika.
“There are few parts that I find distasteful. Your company is not one.”
 
He beams, and switches back to Common. “Ha! I’m getting very good at the
inflection.”
 
“You really are!” Mika excitedly praises, trying not to splash in his
enthusiasm, though it’s difficult, when Shu actually does things like this. “It
sounds real pretty when you speak it, Master. See, you could fit in down here
just fine, though you gotta be careful in the sun, you’d burn.”
 
“Yes, it isn’t my first time seeing the outdoors,” Shu says dryly. “I am
familiar with the concept of the sun in a general sense. Mm, I still strive to
attain your level of grace with the tongue, of course. The way you sing in it
is particularly delightful.”
 
“The sun here’s a million times worse if you go out in the middle of the day,
that’s why I’m warnin’ you—you get distracted and don’t think about it, I know
how y’are.” Mika pokes him with one foot, wiggling his toes again. “Master’s
being real sweet, complimentin’ me like that, but…I always used to think common
tongue was way prettier,” he admits. “I guess that’s a good thing, ‘cause I
could speak it okay by the time I got taken to the Academy. I used to make my
favorite customers talk to me in it, I must’ve been the most annoying whore,
heh.”
 
“It is a decently intelligent language, of course. And it’s the most suitable
for writing, whereas Sandtongue is far more melodical, and therefore tonal.”
Shu brushes a hand lightly against the bottom of Mika’s foot, tickling him.
“But you’ve heard me talk about that plenty. How’s the food, being back?”
 
Mika bites down on a squeal, withdrawing his foot in a hurry (and with a little
slosh of water over the side of the tub). “I like it when you talk about that
kinda stuff, though. Nnn, if it were up to me, I’d jus’ eat the cheap sweets
and stuff they sell on the street all the time here…the meat’s no good and too
heavy in the heat, besides. I jus’ want sweet things.”
 
“You really are always the same, aren’t you?” Shu asks fondly. He cups water in
his hand, then dumps it onto Mika’s head. “Work the soap all the way in, Mika.
It wouldn’t do to be greasy.”
 
“Do it for me,” Mika complains, launching himself forward to flop into Shu’s
chest—mindful of his shoulder, but plastering himself against Shu all the same.
“Master always does it best, I got too much hair.”
 
Shu winces, but starts to work the special oiled soap through Mika’s hair,
starting at the scalp. “Don’t be too worried about me, I’m just doing a bit of
work. I’m unaccustomed to certain motions, and the wood down here is quite
different than what I usually use. Toymaking isn’t so easy as everyone thinks.”
 
“You need a minty-fresh Izumin right about now,” Mika murmurs, his eyes lidding
as Shu’s fingers drag against his scalp. He slumps forward, burying his face
firmly into Shu’s neck. “But he ain’t here, so if you need a massage or
something, I can do it. I bet everything you’ve been makin’ is real pretty.
Master’s the best at everything he does, so…”
 
“Of course I am. But this isn’t exactly...my expertise.” Shu offers a pained
smile, working the soap through Mika’s hair, swirling the water around the
ends. “How goes it with the prince, by the way? I know you said he won’t take
you to bed, but what does he know?”
 
“He’s going to show me the auction houses tomorrow. Said he would tonight if I
wanted, but honestly, I gotta have at least a day to get my mind on track for
seein’ somethin’ like that.” Mika exhales, shutting his eyes. “He won’t go in
and deal with the stuff with kids. Too afraid of blowin’ cover and stuff, he
says. But I think he knows at least a few people involved, so that’s a start,
right?”
 
“Honestly, I have no idea,” Shu admits. “Rei didn’t send us with the most
complete guidelines for what to do. I think that should help, but honestly,
that’s the sort of information he can get many ways. I’m sure he expects you to
do something a bit special.”
 
“…My real plan was to try and get in an act as a broker myself,” Mika admits,
though the though makes his stomach flip. “Slaves within high ranks are usually
the best ones, ‘cause they can’t really get paid except in privileges, and
they’re usually the most desperate, besides. But I can’t do that kinda thing
unless the prince, y’know, helps me fake that I wanna get into tradin’…” He
sighs, slinking slowly back down into the water. “Maybe I really am useless.”
 
Shu shrugs. “It’s possible,” he admits. “Don’t take that the wrong way. It’s
entirely possible that our task is simply too difficult, or outside our skill
set. It’s possible Rei’s information was wrong, and the Sandlands weren’t even
behind the raids. No one expects you to be able to work miracles, Mika.”
 
“I expect it,” Mika mumbles, his tongue poking out as he flops into Shu’s
chest, staring up at him. “Even if the Sandlands ain’t behind these raids,
there’s still a lot of tradin’ and they’re ignoring the king’s laws and stuff.
Someone’s gotta do somethin’ about it.”
 
“And we will. We’re doing valuable work, even if it doesn’t seem like it yet.”
Shu pauses as something occurs to him. “By the way, I think your Sandtongue
might be a bit outdated. I believe I used an old expression today that made the
court laugh, and some of the slang has passed you by.”
 
Mika blinks up at him, and his brow furrows. “Eh? I don’t think so…the prince
ain’t said nothin’ to me about me speaking wrong, and he would.Or at least,
someone around him would.”
 
“No, I’m quite sure,” Shu says firmly. “For example, for the sort of sanding
technique I use, I was using sakkon, but the person I talked to referred to it
as sakkendon. I dislike being giggled at, so please discover the source of this
shift.”
 
Mika pauses, stares at Shu for a moment longer, and then, something obviously
dawns on him. “Oooooh. Oh. Hmm. I see.”
 
Shu cocks his head. “Yes?”
 
“Soo…you know how…Sandtongue,” Mika slowly begins, leaning back slightly. “Has
like. A bunch of different forms, dependin’ on who you talk to and how polite
you wanna be?”
 
“No,” Shu says, what he thinks of as very patiently. “I did not know that,
because you never told me that.”
 
“Oh…I thought…I thought Rei would’ve told you, ‘cause he’s fluent
and…uh…doesn’t speak the kinda Sandtongue I do.”
 
Very deliberately, Shu reaches into the water, cups his hands together, then
releases it on top of Mika’s head. “Explain.”
 
Mika laughs nervously, blinking water from his eyes. “So the thing about whores
in the Sandlands—we’ve got our own way of speakin’. Courtesan’s tongue, y’know?
And, uh, if you don’t wanna die, you never learn the other ways of talkin’.
Like, you don’t teach your kids the ‘normal’ way if those kids are gonna be in
this kinda work the rest of their life. And even courtesan’s tongue has got
different types…and…uhh…I try real hard to speak like a fancy one, ‘cause,
well, I’ll probably get my head chopped off otherwise here.”
 
“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” Shu says, as calmly as he can manage. “I,
infiltrating as a King’s toymaker, blending with the elite...have been using
slang that will mark me irrevocably as a prostitute? The entire time? And no
one told me?”
 
“I didn’t even think about it!” Mika protests, sitting back with a little huff.
“Why would I? I can’tspeak th’ other way, I don’t even know how. Rei shoulda
told you, he’s…y’know, now that I say it, I ain’t even surprised.”
 
Shu huffs so loudly that the water splashes around him, some of the embarrassed
heat leaching off his skin and warming the tub back to its hottest. If his
seals hadn’t been in place, he’d likely have set something on fire. “I’ll be
saying something to him,” he snarls. “How is anyone supposed to take me
seriously like this?”
 
“It ain’t like it’s rude!” Mika hastily says, grabbing for Shu’s hands and
squeezing them. “Honestly. They…they might think that you were a whore back in
th’ day or somethin’, but seriously, Master, it ain’t that bad…um, if anything
it’s…ah…it’s real, what’s the word, submissive?” He knows the word, but if he
bats his eyelashes and looks pathetic, maybe Shu will think he’s cute and stop
snarling. “So that’s even more respectful to the royal family and stuff.”
 
That calms Shu before he can start to hyperventilate, thinking about the
humiliation he’d been suffering without even realizing it. “...Very well. I
suppose Rei doesn’t need to die today. He will still die by my hand, of
course.”
 
“H…he probably thought it was sexy,” Mika manages with a little giggle. “I
mean, it is kinda, hearin’ something like that come out of someone like you’s
mouth…”
 
Shu cocks his head. “Is it? Explain. I want to know exactly what kind of
impression I’m giving off. Spare no details.”
 
“Mmnnn…prob’ly the best way to describe it is like…okay, you know th’ phrase ‘I
look forward to being of service to you’?” Mika seamlessly switches from common
to sand tongue, then back again: “I’m sure you’ve said it a few times to
whoever you’re answerin’ to, right? Well…uhh…the way they’re hearin’ it, if
you’re using courtesan’s tongue, it’s more like…’servicing you is the only
thing I can think about’, soo you literally sound like you wanna…y’know.”
 
“....Oh. Ah.”
 
Shu’s face flushes, and he has to turn away, imagining so many times he’s said
those words, and the light in the eyes of those he’s said them to. There’s a
stirring of heat elsewhere in his body, but he doesn’t want to think about that
too hard. “Am I running the risk of anyone...taking me up on that offer?”
 
“I mean, it’s the Sandlands…but you’re not a whore, you can still refuse ‘em,”
Mika lightly says, unable to stop from being amused now. He scoots forward
again, the water sloshing a bit over the edges of the tub. “If you said that
kinda thing to Rei, I bet he fell down a little,” he teases. “No wonder he
didn’t wanna tell you the normal way of talkin’, it’s lewd.”
 
“By my hand, he will die,” Shu vows again, sinking down until the water comes
up around his chin, face still burning. “I’m really very embarrassed, you know!
How am I supposed to let my usual bravado affect those around me now?”
 
“At least y’talk like an expensive whore,” Mika laughs, flopping forward
against Shu and nuzzling his face into his hair. “So they prob’ly think you’ve
got enough drive t’get the fuck out of whatever you were doin’ before…that’s
intimidatin’ in its own right, most whores don’t do that.”
 
As flushed and sensitive as he is, Mika’s nuzzling is enough to send him into
an embarrassed shiver. “Stop,” he protests, pushing ineffectually at Mika’s
shoulder. “You’re too much...”
 
“I’m barely doin’ anything,” Mika huffs, and instead of pulling away, his arms
snake around Shu’s shoulders as he settles down against him. “The water’s
gettin’ cold, Master,” he sighs, deliberately squirming between Shu’s thighs.
“Maaaybe we should move to bed, hmm? I can teach you more lewd things to say to
Rei~…”
 
Shu’s mouth goes dry even when the rest of him is soaking wet. Without hardly
meaning to, he rises from the bath, swallowing hard as he towels off. His heart
thuds, and he says, before he can think better of it, “I’ve only ever slept
with him, you know. I might do something wrong. You might not like it.”
 
“Yeah, doubt that,” Mika hums, eagerly scrambling out of the tub after him and
snatching up a towel. His hair’s a lost cause, and going to stay wet for hours,
but the rest of him is easily bundled in a towel before he grabs for Shu’s
hand. “Even jus’ kissin’ you is enough,” he seriously says. “But if you let me,
I’ll do other things. I just wanna make you feel good.”
 
Shu lets his fingers curl around Mika’s hand, and he breathes in deeply, then
out again. The nausea doesn’t come, and that bolsters his confidence, letting
him pull Mika close. It’s not the all-consuming desire of his resonant bond,
but it’s somehow more delightful, easier to handle. It’s the difference between
a warm spring breeze and standing next to a blazing fire. The fire is warmer,
certainly, but this is highly relaxing, blowing exotic scents to his nose.
Slowly, he nods, and steps in close, lowering his lips to Mika’s.
 
Mika exhales a soft breath as he stretches up onto his toes, his mouth pressing
against Shu’s with a pleased little sound. His towel drops back to the ground,
entirely unnecessary when he laces his fingers together with Shu’s and lets his
teeth gently scrape against Shu’s lower lip, his tongue soon to follow in a
playful little swipe. “Good?” he breathes, his eyes lidding. “If it gets to be
too much…you’ll tell me, right?”
 
Shu moves suddenly, grabbing Mika’s face, cupping it in both hands. “Don’t
listen to me if I say it’s too much,” he warns, eyes flashing. “I won’t say
this again. Do you understand me?”
 
Mika’s lips part, protests dying on his tongue as he nods, quickly backing up
and dragging Shu with him towards the bed. “Got it,” he eagerly says, his
breath hitching excitedly. It’s wrong of him, probably, to want this so much,
especially when Shu is bonded, when Arashi is off getting married, when he’s
supposed to be here working—but he’s wanted to climb into Shu’s bed since the
moment Shu saved him, and none of that was true at the time…so how wrong can it
really be?
 
A little shove, and Mika dumps Shu down into his bed and quickly pounces
afterward, crawling up between Shu’s legs to kiss him again, his fingers
dragging down along Shu’s sides, tracing over his ribs. “Master,” he breathes,
his eyes fluttering. The chill in the air is easily ignored when mixed with the
scent of oils and incense and Shu’s damp skin, and it makes his mouth that much
more eager to kiss the breath right out of Shu’s lungs.
 
“T-too fast,” Shu gasps, though he doesn’t push Mika away. If anything, he lets
his thighs part faster, so far that each knee touches the bed. His breath
catches in his throat, and it feels as if his heart is pounding in his cock. He
reaches up, letting his hands rest on Mika’s back. “You really are far too
thin,” he whispers, fingertips dragging over Mika’s spine, his ribs. But it’s
hard to remember what he should be focused on when Mika’s lips taste so sweet,
and Shu nips at them, tongue dragging over them. “I want you...to do the things
you promised.”
 
Mika exhales a pleased, rumbling little noise into Shu’s mouth before he shoves
his tongue past those soft lips, dragging the tip of his tongue against the
roof of Shu’s mouth before he sucks on Shu’s tongue. He wriggles down, his
fingers splaying against the insides of Shu’s thighs to keep them apart, and
his breath catches in his chest, his pulse pounding in his ears, making his
cock twitch and ache between his legs. “I’m all yours tonight,” he murmurs,
switching seamlessly to Sandtongue, unable to help it when he had promised to
whisper lewd things into Shu’s ear. “Mnn…and Master, you’re all mine, aren’t
you?” His mouth slides from Shu’s, dragging to his neck inside with hot, wet
kisses before he bites gently, then sucks, intent on leaving a mark in spite of
any protests.
 
A gasping whimper escapes Shu’s throat. Usually around this time Rei would be
throwing him into a wall, or into the bed, likely already sliding into him. He
loves it, he does, but this...
 
This is nice, too.
 
That thought feels traitorous, but he can’t stop himself, and he drags the pads
of his fingertips gently down Mika’s back, soft little pants echoing in the
quiet room. “I-if there’s anything...you’ve ever wanted to do,” he whispers,
forgetting to pretend like they usually do that he hasn’t wanted this for
years. “Take what you want tonight, please...”
 
Mika shudders, his toes curling when his forehead briefly knocks against Shu’s
shoulder. It’s hard to think about what specifically he’s ever wanted to
do—pinpointing one thing is impossible, honestly, and even harder to figure out
when Shu’s touching him, and making noises like that—but one thing is certain:
Shu’s hands feel so nice, and Mika can feel his skin twitch underneath that
touch, a little rumbling, content noise. “Everything,” he murmurs, nuzzling up
underneath Shu’s chin, his hair tumbling forward over his shoulders as he rubs
up against him, fingers gently squeezing against Shu’s thighs. “I want…to do
everything. Master, you’re so beautiful, I’m glad I finally look beautiful when
we get to do this.”
 
That brings a small snort of amusement to Shu’s lips, and he grabs Mika gently
by the hair, tugging him into a slow, heated kiss. “You look very lovely,” he
whispers, petting the long, flyaway strands, removing each jeweled hairstick in
turn, setting them on the table. “But if I thought you were less beautiful in
your everyday appearance, I would change it.”
 
He flushes, and looks down, away from Mika’s searching eyes. “The Mika I see
every day is my favorite one, of course.”
 
Mika’s lower lip wobbles, and he fights back the sudden shock of tears to his
eyes. “You’re gonna make me cry, that’s not sexy,” he bemoans, quickly grabbing
for Shu’s face to kiss him again, sucking Shu’s tongue into his mouth and
letting his teeth gently scrape over it before releasing him. “I wanted to kiss
you since the first week I met you,” he eagerly whispers, his fingers dragging
back through Shu’s hair, nails scraping gently against his scalp. “And…and
everything else, but mostly, I really wanted to kiss you, and feel your hands
on me, I’ve always liked the way you touch me…”
 
“I love touching you.”
 
The words feel dragged out of him, and Shu groans, lurching up to press
fluttering butterfly kisses all over Mika’s face, his neck, his shoulder.
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever done in my life,” he whispers, touching Mika’s
hair as gently as he’s ever touched his glass figures, feeling the same awe of
delicate creation. “Look at you. You’re ridiculous, aren’t you? We must be
doing this in any other world, ever since we met.”
 
“I’m pretty ridiculous, yeah,” Mika breathlessly agrees, a wry smile on his
lips when he pulls back, forcing his eyes to focus on Shu’s face. It’s fuzzy at
the edges, but still Shu, and Mika licks at his own lips before he butts his
head up into the touch on his hair. “That’s a nice thought,” he wistfully says,
wriggling up a bit to paw blindly (literally) at his bedside table, plucking up
a bottle of oil by simply feeling the weight of it alone. “That we’re doing
this in some other world. Nn, it’s selfish, but…I wouldn’t mind having you all
to myself…”
 
“Natsume...showed me, once,” Shu breathes. He closes his eyes, unable to look
at Mika’s hands when they’re doing something so lewd, though he’s certain that
he’s done a thousand lewder things before this. But before that, it’s always
been with Rei, who knows him better than he knows himself, who knows what he’ll
love by sheer telepathy, who knows how to touch him as if he’s been born with
the knowledge. With Mika, every touch is a surprise, dragging startled noises
out of him, and it makes him shudder down to his toes. “One of the other
worlds. Where I get to touch you as much as I like.”
 
“I mean…you can, now. All you want.” That has to be true if they’re even doing
this much. Before Rei, Mika had been clingy, but unable to do much (no matter
how he’d wanted to), for fear of punishment. And after Rei…it had been even
more frustrating, but at least Arashi had been a distraction. Arashi isn’t here
right now, though; Shu is. Shu is, and Shu is letting him do whatever he wants,
which is almost overwhelming in how much Mika wants that.
 
His fingers shake when he forces himself to sit back, shoving his hair back
over his shoulders before he uncorks the oil bottle and tips it over his
fingers. “You like this kinda thing a lot, right?” he murmurs, reaching back
between Shu’s legs, pinning one of his thighs to the bed with one hand as the
other drags a pair of slick fingers against Shu’s hole. “Rei probably doesn’t
get to take his time and watch you squirm when he does this. I can, though.”
 
“I feel like.....I’ve never really done it before.”
 
Shu lets his lips fall open, head rolling as his back arches of the bed. His
legs shiver as he tries to spread them further. His hips start to ache from how
wide his thighs are parted, but he ignores that pain, hoping his squirming is
something that Mika doesn’t hate. “I...I’m getting to the point that...”
 
Mika’s fingers feel good, sinfully hot inside of him, stretching his hole so
widely that it steals his breath, tears pricking at his eyes. “Mika...how long
are you going to--I’ve never for...”
 
“Long enough for you to feel good,” Mika hums distractedly, his tongue poking
out between his lips as he loses focus on anything but how hot Shu feels inside
when he wriggles his fingers inside to the second knuckle. He curls them back
towards himself, stroking slowly. “It’s no good if you don’t come like this at
least once.” He lurches up again, mouthing at Shu’s neck, his teeth grazing
skin this time as he twists his fingers inside with a little shiver raking down
his own spine. “Ahh, you’re also really tight, Master, so there’s no way…”
 
Shu’s whole body feels like it’s flushed pink, and he struggles to turn over,
grabbing a pillow and burying his face in it when he can’t move that far. “I--
it’s good to be--don’t be a little fool, you know how much I can...”
 
Rei is bigger than Mika, he’d be an idiot not to notice, but...but Mika’s
fingers are so clever and strong, so talented as they play him like an
instrument, and he squirms pathetically, pressing himself down. “Just--a little
further in,” he pleads in a hoarse whisper. “I’ll--if you do, I will--”
 
“Just ‘cause you can take a lot doesn’t mean you should until it feels good,”
Mika murmurs, his eyes lidded as he obliges all the same, gripping Shu’s hip to
hold him in place as he shoves his fingers deeper. The tips of his fingers drag
against something firm, textured, and he grins, stroking over that same spot
again, slow and deliberate. “Like that, Master? Listen to you, you sound like
you’re really enjoying yourself now~…”
 
Shu’s cheeks flush dark red in a heartbeat, and his back arches so far that he
comes clean off the bed, rocking up in a spasm that makes his vision white out,
his entire body convulsing in startled pleasure. Only Rei has ever touched him
there--it had felt too cheap and paltry to do it himself after meeting Rei, and
before that he’d never felt the hunger strongly enough to break prohibitions.
 
When he comes to his senses, heart thudding against his chest, hair limp with
sweat, Mika is a blurry figure in his vision, one he reaches out for. His belly
is wet with his release, and he flops back onto the bed, hands clenching and
unclenching pathetically. He isn’t here to complain about Rei--the man is half
of his heart and soul, and doesn’t deserve that. But at the same time... “I
didn’t know it could feel like that,” he whispers, and shoves his face back
into the pillow.
 
Mika sucks in a slow, ragged breath, and reaches down between his own legs,
giving his cock a squeeze to calm himself down for a hot damned minute. He’s
waited this long, he can wait a bit longer, but Shu is a real test of patience
when he looks like—like this, all disheveled and sweaty and satisfied, sprawled
over his bed. “Y-yeah,” Mika manages with a breathless little laugh, swallowing
hard. “Rei probably…probably never gets to take his time because you look like
this, Master. Can’t even blame him.”
 
He plants a hand next to Shu’s head as he lurches forward, refusing to pull his
hand out just yet, and his fingers gently twist inside again, petting Shu from
the inside out as he sucks on the lobe of his ear, then bites down. “You
just…you look like you need to be ravished,” Mika breathes, trembling from his
own overstimulation now, his cock achingly hard as it rubs against the sticky
mess on Shu’s own belly. “And the way you move—you’re begging for it.”
 
“All right.” Another tear squeezes out of Shu’s clenched eyes, and he lets his
nails dig into the pillow. “Go on. I’m ready.”
 
His body is already twitching and trembling, and Rei’s never been able to last
longer than a few seconds when Shu gives him the final nod. There’s a soft
indolence to the way his muscles feel, and he sags down to the bed. “Just move
me where you want me,” he mumbles.
 
“Mmm…right here’s good, for now.” Mika’s voice is breathy and overeager, but he
reins himself in, enough to pull his trembling fingers free and grab for the
oil again. “Sorry,” he apologizes, dripping oil into his palm and then over his
cock, trying not to let his touch linger for too long when he’s already aching.
“I know it doesn’t feel good when you’re empty after all that…but I’ll take
good care of you, I promise.”
 
Mika slides up closer between Shu’s long legs, easing them around his waist as
he stretches up to nuzzle underneath Shu’s chin. The head of his cock rubs
against that slick hole, and for as tight and tense as Shu had been earlier,
it’s much easier to press inside now, slowly sinking inside bit by bit,
everything hot and slick and easy. Mika muffles a groan into Shu’s chest, his
hands dropping down to the bed for leverage, painted nails curling into the
fabric as that sound turns to a breathy whine when he shifts between Shu’s
thighs, scooting his knees up closer, sinking in deeper. “Master—Shu, you feel
soo good, you’re perfect…”
 
When’s the last time you got to do this? Shu wonders, with the tiny sliver of
his brain dedicated to anything other than accommodating that stretch. Mika
isn’t as large as Rei, not even close, but for the moment, that feels even
better with how overstimulated and shivery he is. His legs feel like they ache
from how wide they’re spread, and he clenches down, savoring the slow push
inside of him, how Mika seems to drag out every delicious feeling with the soft
pulses of his cock. “I want you in me forever,” he mumbles, dropping a hand to
palm his own soft cock, coaxing it back to hardness.
 
“T-then I’ll stay in you forever.” It’s easy to say in the moment, but the
prospect of not coming too soon is a looming fear, and Mika sucks in a ragged
breath, burying his face briefly down into Shu’s shoulder as he stills, trying
to get his bearings. “Sorry,” he whispers in apology again, his breath
hiccuping up in his chest. “Wanted to do this for—ah—a really long time,
you’re…you’re so perfect, Master…”
 
Just thinking about it is too much and makes his cock throb, dripping inside of
Shu, and Mika hastily pushes Shu’s hand away, pinning it down to the bed as his
own takes over, his thumb dragging from the tip to root of Shu’s cock. “You
deserve to feel good,” he breathes, lurching up to suck on the side of Shu’s
neck as he rocks in slowly. “L-let me do everything, please…”
 
A whimper forces its way out of Shu’s throat, and he bites his lip, throwing
the pillow to the side off the bed. “You’ve got to,” he groans, letting Mika
pin him down, feeling his skin prickle and flush every time he squirms, feeling
Mika’s hand on his wrist. “I can’t--I can’t do anything, you have to,” he
groans, fingers clenching in futile desperation.
 
If he’s being honest with himself, in a lot of ways, being surrounded by Mika’s
perfume-scented embrace is more enjoyable than any other experience he’s ever
had. He can actually feel every move, instead of being entirely overwhelmed by
the sensations radiating along his bond. “Kiss me,” he pleads quietly, blinking
tear-frosted eyelashes up at Mika.
 
Mika immediately lunges up to do as he’s told, catching up Shu’s mouth with his
own. It’s sloppy, far from precise when he sucks on Shu’s tongue, his own
dragging along the roof of Shu’s mouth when he tastes him thoroughly, and it
muffles his own ragged, breathy groans when he thrusts in, harder now when he
feels Shu harden in his hand. His fingers abandon Shu’s cock, letting it be
trapped between them instead, rubbing against Mika’s skin when he presses down
against Shu. “That’s good, right?” he pants out between kisses, lapsing
helplessly into his native tongue, unable to process anything else when Shu
feels so good. His fingers tremble as they curl around Shu’s wrists, holding
him down to make him feel every single long, deep thrust. “L…let me hear your
voice, Master…”
 
“C-can’t,” Shu sobs, kicking his legs pathetically, feeling himself spasm
around the thick intrusion, wriggling pathetically under Mika’s touch with
every passing second. “It’s--embarrassing, someone could hear, this is already-
-at least turn me over, I want to--”
 
Mika’s cock rubs against something so beautiful deep inside him that his voice
spikes into a high squeak, then falls into a guttural groan that sounds nothing
like his usual self. “Ahhh, Mika, please, I’m--almost going to--”
 
“Good, let them hear,” Mika pants against Shu’s mouth, his fingers squeezing
tight around Shu’s wrists when he grinds in again, deliberately angled to
thrust and rub against that same spot, holding himself there in spite of how he
aches. “Maybe I’ll turn you over and do this again after we’re done,” he
whispers, nipping at Shu’s trembling lower lip as he pulls back for air, sweat
trickling down his spine as he thrusts in again and again, relentless when he
can feel Shu clench and shudder around him. “No one would expect someone like
you to like that so much, but—but I know, really, you want to call someone
‘master’, don’t you? Because then you can really be taken care of—“
 
A cry twists up out of Shu, and his toes curl so hard they pop, his entire body
spasming in ecstasy. Every touch of Mika’s lips is a sinful pleasure, sparking
a chain reaction in his body and mind that makes his face scrunch into a rictus
of pleasure. There’s little that spurts out, and this orgasm leaves him shaky
and raw, a messy puddle of human-shaped goo on the bed. He shifts weakly, hips
rocking, hole tightening and spasming so hard it stings, making his eyes leak.
“Come in me,” he breathes, though just saying the words makes his nipples
tingle. “You’ve been saving it for me, haven’t you?”
 
Come in me—hearing those words from Shu’s mouth makes Mika swallow hard, his
breath catching, his cock throbbing, and there’s nothing to stop him when he
shoves in hard, burying his cock inside until their skin slaps together,
sticking together with sweat and sweetly perfumed oil.
 
Mika bites his lip when he comes, muffling the noises from his own throat as he
spills long and hard, every pulse filling Shu more and more, until he slowly
slumps down, trembling as he lies against Shu, his fingers finally unclenching
from where they grip Shu’s wrists tightly. “You…feel so good,” he whispers, his
eyes fluttering shut. “Really, I never wanna pull out, Master…”
 
Shu sniffs, turning to butt his face into Mika’s chest, mouthing softly over
the sweaty skin of his chest. “Stings,” he whispers. With Rei, he always feels
the compulsion to act tough, to pretend that he can take as much as Rei wants
to give, even when he feels battered and broken, as if his bones are glass and
his joints are wax. With Mika... “Hold me, please...”
 
Saying he never wants to pull out means pretty much nothing when Shu acts even
slightly uncomfortable, and so Mika immediately shifts, forcing himself to
move. He eases out with a hiss of breath and wriggles up alongside Shu instead,
tugging Shu’s back to his chest as he nuzzles his face into his hair. “Better?”
he murmurs, curling his arms around Shu’s waist to gently squeeze him. “I’ll
clean you up in a minute, okay?”
 
“You can have me again in a minute,” Shu murmurs, reaching up to pet Mika’s
hair. “It’s just.....nicer...to have a little break between.”
 
“Mmnn? We don’t gotta go again, I’m good.” Mika nuzzles further into Shu’s
hair. “Unless you wanna. But you seem pretty done, so you can just relax now.”
 
A shudder of relief goes through Shu, and he stuffs his face further into
Mika’s chest. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be useless, I’ll get you off again before
sleep.”
 
Mika blinks a few times, then reaches for Shu’s face, lifting it out of his
chest for a moment. “Master. I, uh. I’m not like Rei. I know you’ve never been
with anyone else,” he hastily adds. “So you probably think he’s normal. But he
ain’t.”
 
“I had some idea that he wasn’t normal,” Shu admits softly. “The whole...sex
wizard thing. But I still...want to be what he wants.”
 
“Between being a sex wizard and a half-blood, it’s kinda…” Mika trails off with
a flutter of one hand, and shifts, rolling away enough to fish out a clean
cloth from his bedside table. “Turn over,” he instructs, gently easing Shu onto
his stomach. “He gets like, super focused on it, right? Like he literally can’t
stop himself.”
 
Shu rolls easily, flopping down on his stomach. His body tenses slightly,
convinced through muscle memory that he’ll feel something hard and thick
nudging at his hole in a second. “He can’t. Not his fault.”
 
“Mm, yeah.” Mika throws a leg over the back of Shu’s thighs, perching there as
he drags the cloth down Shu’s back, mopping up sweat before delving gently
between his legs to clean up the mess of oil and semen. “Izumin gets like that,
too. Sometimes it’s nice, but other times, it’s waaay too much. He’s easier to
hold down and smack around, though…”
 
“Rei likes that kind of--”
 
Shu’s voice breaks into a squeak when Mika touches him so intimately, but in
such a gentle, businesslike manner that he isn’t sure how to move. His thighs
tremble, and his forehead presses into the bed, leaving a spot of sweat behind.
“L-likes that kind of thing,” he finishes on a gasp. “Just another way...he
needs someone else, too.”
 
“You gotta relax, Master,” Mika gently teases, but he finishes up as quickly as
he can, tossing the cloth aside and picking up another clean one to finish
wiping up Shu’s thighs. “It’s not like…healthy for them to not to be able to be
with other people,” he quietly notes. “I’ve seen Izumin try. It’s bad.”
 
“He thought I’d hate the idea,” Shu sighs. “It’s like he doesn’t understand how
much I enjoy the concept of solitude and rest. I’ve been working for years on a
way to get around our bond.”
 
“…Seems like it finally worked?” Mika hopefully says, tossing that cloth aside
too before he flops back down against Shu’s back, nuzzling his face up into his
hair. “It’s gotta be better for everyone,” he sighs. “So you can relax…so Rei
can…y’know…not be so wound up all the time…his magic’s so big, having no chance
to spread that around properly’s kinda scary…”
 
“The birth rate in the capital is out of control,” Shu mutters, rubbing back
fondly against Mika, dropping his hand to stroke over Mika’s palm. “The farmers
were thrilled for a year, but now the surplus is rotting. It’s about a lot more
than one Nightcloak’s overworked thighs, you know.”
 
“You’ve got nice thighs, though,” Mika cheerfully says, slowly lacing their
fingers together and giving Shu’s hand a light squeeze. “Mmn…I know there’s
been a lot more wizards blooming lately, too. The timing seems about right for
Rei to be affecting it. Scary.” He nuzzles his face down into Shu’s neck. “Kara
thinks I’m crazy and gotta do it all the time, but that’s just compared to him.
I’m pretty normal, I think, so we can just do it when we feel like it only.”
 
“You’re silly,” Shu murmurs. He nuzzles back against Mika, tugging the thin
sheets over both of them. “Once this mission is over, and you have your men
back, you won’t have need of me any longer.”
 
“Nnnn, not true,” Mika mumbles, snuggling himself firmly against Shu’s back. “I
love you lots, Master. And I’ve wanted to do things like this for awhile, and
even just kiss, if not stuff like this, so now I can.” His eyes lid.
“Sometimes, they’re better together when I’m not around. And that’s fine,
but…it’s nice if I’ve got someone else, too.”
 
“I used to believe in true love.”
 
Shu squeezes his eyes tight, glad that he can’t see Mika’s face when he’s
saying such embarrassing things. “When I was a child. I thought I’d meet
someone and...we’d solve all of each other’s problems, and never want anything
but each other. I don’t even know anyone who’s satisfied with their beloved
anymore.”
 
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with loving a few different people.” Mika
plants a kiss to the back of Shu’s shoulder, exhaling a soft, slow breath. “So
long as they all keep loving you back. What’s ‘true love’ mean, anyway? I don’t
think there’s any one person that could be you and kara and Izumin all in one
place, and that sounds stressful, besides.”
 
“You’re so charmingly simple, Mika. The point is that...oh, never mind,” Shu
finally grumbles, sinking contentedly back. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, as
long as no one gets jealous.”
 
“Yeah, that’s the point,” Mika cheerfully says, snuggling firmly up against
him, content on being plastered there for as long as possible. “Don’t worry,
Master. I’m pretty sure Rei thinks we’re one big wizard blob at this point, so
I’m counted as a part of you, and that’s good.”
 
Shu’s smile is soft, and a little sad. “As much as I love this...I can’t help
but wonder what he’s doing right now.”
 
“Probably fucking his way across the country,” Mika says with a yawn against
Shu’s hair. “Or plottin’ more ways to take over the world, that way he does.
Either way, good on him.”
 
“Mm, yes, I like that.” Shu strokes Mika’s hand for a moment, eyes flicking
over the blank wall. “Don’t let me talk to Nazuna while we’re down here.”
 
Mika pauses for a moment at that, then nods, switching his grasp to pet Shu’s
hand in turn. “I won’t,” he softly says. “Do you…do you even know why he’s
here? Kuro, too…that was surprisin’…”
 
“Where there is opportunity for profit, so goes the Master of Coin,” Shu quotes
quietly. “He’s a different man now, he’ll go anywhere that he can turn one coin
into three. And now that Kuro isn’t the Captain of the Kingsguard anymore, he
rents himself to the highest bidder. The Master of Coin needs quite a bit of
protecting on the road.”
 
“Mmm. Sounds about right, I guess.” Mika chews slowly on his lower lip before
he shifts, fishing back through the now much wilder mess of his hair to find
the little metal snake he’d braided back up into it. “I think Izumin might’ve
also sent Kuro this way, ‘cause…killing two birds with one stone and all that…”
he muses, pulling the snake carving free and closing his fingers around it.
“It’s nice knowin’ he’s looking out for us.”
 
“Don’t rely on him too much.” Shu’s hand clenches suddenly, and he carefully
unclenches it. “Not that he isn’t reliable. He is. But it’s better not to rely
on anyone to get you out of trouble but yourself.”
 
“I know.” Mika butts his head against Shu’s back. “I’m not relying on him. It’s
just nice to think about having a knight in shining armor that could sweep in
at any minute, y’know?”
 
“Spoken as if you haven’t had enough of knights sweeping you off your feet,”
Shu says dryly. “Next thing, you’ll be wanting a wizard to wave a magic wand
and fix all of your problems. Those are dreams for the common.”
 
“I mean, it is the kinda stuff I used to dream about as a kid,” Mika wistfully
says. “Maybe it’s common, but it still sounds romantic, don’t y’think?”
 
“They’re dreams that can never be.” Shu’s voice sounds hollow, and he curls in
on himself. “This is a subject that hurts me. Hm, I suppose I should
probably...tell you...some of these things.”
 
“You don’t gotta.” Mika plasters himself against Shu, flopping forward until
he’s almost pressing Shu back down to the bed. “You’re not allowed to be sad
right now, I jus’ got done makin’ y’feel good.”
 
“Yes, yes,” Shu says, muffled into the pillow. “But--if you’re going to be
talking to them, I don’t want you saying something that will...look, I just
want you to know my side of the story. Not his."
 
“You can tell me,” Mika softly says. “And I’ll believe you. Over him, any day.
I’m never not gonna be on your side, Master.”
 
Shu hisses out a breath, then turns suddenly, taking Mika in his arms. “Just--
don’t believe him,” he whispers fiercely. “He’ll tell you things. Maybe true
things. But that--that doesn’t mean you should believe them.”
 
Mika blinks up at him, his eyes wide, but unwavering. “I don’t even wanna talk
to him,” he honestly says. “So if he’s got somethin’ to say to me, too bad,
first of all. But if he does say things t’me, I won’t listen. He doesn’t know
what it’s like, bein’ a wizard, so nothin’ he says matters, anyway.”
 
“But he--”
 
Shu bites down what he wants to say--Nazuna knows him, knows him better in some
ways than Mika does, has certainly known him longer. And if someone like that
hates him so much, finds him so despicable, then maybe that’s the one that’s
really right about him.
 
He shrinks in on himself, biting his lips. “Just avoid him, if you can without
raising suspicion. I doubt he’d recognize you.”
 
“He hasn’t yet,” Mika softly says, petting a hand slowly down Shu’s back.
“Master…don’t worry about it, okay? I’m not gonna talk to him. I don’t care
about him, I jus’ care about you and hopefully fixin’ this mess down here.
Okay?”
 
“I just want to bring you home. But you’re...” Shu flaps a hand weakly. “You’re
thriving, anyone can see that. I’d feel guilty to take you out of here.”
 
“Don’t say that, I feel soguilty,” Mika groans, clinging to Shu’s waist.
“Arashi would think it’s so gross and Izumin thinks I’m gonna get raped, I
don’t want them to think I like this kinda stuff when I really just like bein’
somewhere warm all the time with food I like to eat. I mean, I’m a better whore
than I am a wizard any day, but still…”
 
“Only because you don’t love your work as a wizard,” Shu says softly. “I don’t
know that you ever could, when you’ve seen your magic do such things. It’s my
dearest hope that someday, you will.”
 
“…Yeah.” Mika stuffs his face back down into Shu’s hair. “I’d rather be only
good for fucking than only good for killing. So I dunno about that.”
 
Shu somehow finds a bit of energy, and turns a hand over, letting violet fire
coalesce in his palm. After a moment, it firms into a glass shape, and tumbles
out of his fingers, little antlers sharp enough to prick the bedsheet, long
tail curled around its sinuous body in repose. “I wish your magic could bring
you pleasure,” he murmurs, now much sleepier.
 
Immediately, Mika snatches the little snog figurine out of Shu’s grasp, and
sets it safely on his bedside after admiring it thoroughly. “I wish it could,
too,” he murmurs, flopping back down and curling around Shu protectively. “But
yours does enough for both of us. Sleep well, Master.”
***** Chapter 23 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
The Master of Coin is a demanding boss. Kuro knows, but there’s still something
endearing about the way he stomps his feet, barking orders like a tiny drill
sergeant, forcing Kuro to leave his warm bed and do things for which he’s
really not suited.
 
He really wishes he could grab Shu and drag him into this mess, but that would
be a violation of pretty much every oath he’s sworn recently. And even if he
decided he didn’t really care about that (and honestly, he doesn’t really care
about that), Shu probably wouldn’t help him. Not with this.
 
So Kuro does as he’s told for once, and sneaks into the softly-scented
bedchambers of Shu’s favorite little pet, bypassing the two of them on the bed
(with a raised eyebrow) and stepping incredibly carefully, until he gets to the
alcove with a tiny, blue-haired child curled up on the floor.
 
Sorry I’m no good at this,he thinks at the poor kid, and snatches him, hand
firmly over his mouth, ignoring the way the kid kicks and bites and--ow--stabs
him, keeping his hand firmly over the kid’s mouth as he leaves the room. He
moves quickly through the halls, cloak tossed over the viciously squirming
bundle, unable to stop to explain anything for fear that the kid will scream,
and someone will hear them.
 
In no time at all, he’s in Nazuna’s outer rooms, and with a dangle of his keys,
in the inner rooms as well, all of the doors locked tightly behind him. “Damn
doors,” he grunts. “That’s not easy with one hand busy.”
 
Then he dumps out the boy Hajime onto the foot of Nazuna’s richly-appointed
borrowed bed, the guest quarters provided by the Otogari family far superior
for the Master of Coin than for what he’d seen in Shu’s room, or his own.
“There you are, Sir. As requested. Careful, he’s stabby.”
 
Hajime falls to the ground, gasping, trembling, his eyes wide and his dagger
still clutched in his hands (albeit now a bit bent). “I-I-I’ll kill you!” he
squeaks out, scuttling to the side—away from Kuro, and away from the bed.
“Whatever you want from me, I—“
 
Nazuna, wrapped up in nothing but his nightclothes and scowling, cuts him off
with a single look. Hajime’s squeaks turn to strangled, embarrassed noises, and
his face goes red, his hands shaking around his dagger. “I…I…”
 
“Why are you here?” Nazuna hisses, jumping off the bed and stalking close to
him. “I thought you were safe now—who took you back here? I’ll kill them
myself!”
 
“No, Milord, it’s nothing like that, I swear—“
 
“Nonsense, look at you, you’re playing attendant to a whore—“
 
“Playing, Milord, playing, t-that’s the key word, I promise, I swear, I—“
Hajime’s eyes well with tears. “I-I’ve been assigned to help, that’s all, I’m
n-not doing that sort of thing anymore!”
 
Nazuna’s stern expression wavers, and he huffs, just shy of stomping his foot
as he whirls on Kuro. “I want you to take him back north.”
 
“No!” Hajime throws himself at Nazuna’s feet. “No, you can’t, I can’t leave,
I’ve got a mission here, I have to help!”
 
Nazuna’s scowl darkens. “What kind of damned mission?” he mutters crossly,
hands on his hips. “I don’t like this. Kuro, Lord Izumi didn’t mention Hajime
being here, did he?”
 
He squats, head now on a level with Hajime’s, looking searchingly into his
eyes. “Master Nazuna says he helped you out of a pretty tight spot, whiles
back. It’s no good t’repay someone like that with lies, y’know?”
 
“I-I’m not lying,” Hajime whispers frantically, his eyes growing even larger.
Kuro is huge, and terrifying because of it, and his dagger obviously was
completely useless, which is even more terrifying. “I swear.”
 
“Who are you helping here, then?” Nazuna demands, hopping back up onto the foot
of the bed and crossing his legs at the ankle. His feet come nowhere close to
touching the floor. “Who’s your master?”
 
Hajime opens his mouth, then shuts it again, looking away nervously. “I…I can’t
say.”
 
Nazuna exhales a long, frustrated sigh. “Well, that tells me who it is, then, I
guess,” he sniffs. “I don’t like this. I thought he was out of the brothel
business!”
 
“I’m not a prostitute a-anymore!”
 
“No, you’re just the attendant of one.” Nazuna’s lips purse. “I’m still having
you sent back north—immediately. The second I leave.”
 
Hajime doesn’t bother arguing, but he doesn’t agree, either, and sits there,
trembling for a moment before he hefts himself back to his feet. “I…I have to
go, Mika might need me.”
 
“You can try t’get out,” Kuro says quietly, not budging from where he’s
crouching. “But without my key, that door ain’t budgin’. An’ it’s a big door.
So you’re gon’ stay there, until my Master here sees fit t’let ya go.”
 
Hajime shakes harder. Nazuna heaves a sigh, rubbing at the bridge of his nose
in obvious irritation. “Just go,” he snaps, waving a hand. “Let him out, Kuro,
before he has a heart attack. But if I catch wind of you doing anything stupid,
I’ll find out and I’ll have to kill people!”
 
Kuro stands, lumbering to the door to let Hajime out, giving him a little bow.
“He means it,” he adds quietly. “He’ll send me after anyone that hurts ya. They
don’t get up after that. Be careful.”
 
Hajime nods nervously, sparing a last, worried glance back to Nazuna before
bolting out of the room as if he’s a rabbit with a hound on his trail. Nazuna
huffs, his fingers drumming against the edge of the mattress. “I dislike this
with every fiber of my being,” he announces.
 
Kuro looks after the kid, then shuts and locks the door, doing his thorough job
as a security guard. “I can send a messenger to Izumi, see what he says about
this. Meantime, ya gotta be careful. There’s more goin’ on down here than ya
know.”
 
“Like?” Nazuna snippily demands. “Don’t send a messenger. If I want to know, I
can pick the brain of the whore Hajime’s glommed onto, and you can tell me the
rest.”
 
“I don’t know any rest,” Kuro says with a shrug. “I know a couple guys sniffing
around down here, but I dunno who they work for or what they’re about. An’ ya
know I can’t tell ya anythin’ Izumi’s into, he’s my Commander.” He reaches out
a fond hand, tousling Nazuna’s fine hair, his hand easily covering Nazuna’s
entire head.
 
“You work for me, you’ll tell me what I want you to tell me,” Nazuna crossly
growls, sinking down underneath Kuro’s hand slightly. “Especially after the
nonsense your ‘commander’ pulled. Shu’s here, don’t think I didn’t see him. You
know something about it.”
 
“Maybe.” Kuro stretches, and stands up, testing the bed with one foot, seeing
if it’ll take his weight. It seems quite sturdy, but he stops to remove his
boots first anyway. “But ya know I can’t tell ya anythin’ I know from my work
with the Kingsguard. That’s treason.”
 
“This doesn’t seem like Kingsguard work,” Nazuna suspiciously says, scooting
back further into bed. He draws his knees up to his chest, watching Kuro with
narrowed red eyes. “If Hajime is working with who I think he is, and I know he
is, then that has little to do with the king directly.”
 
“Ain’t up t’you what seems like Kingsguard work,” Kuro says with a shrug, not
budging an inch. “It’s up t’me, an’ my Commander. Permission to get in bed,
Sir?” He’s not allowed to call Nazuna Milord, no matter how much Nazuna’s
family has always lusted after that title. The Master of Coin is powerful and
important, but can never be a nobleman.
 
“You’re being an ass this evening,” Nazuna moodily says, nose in the air as he
looks aside, his shoulders heaving with another huff of breath. “Get in bed
already, it’s creaking and annoying me.”
 
“Better when I stretch out,” Kuro agrees, shucking his weapons belt to the
ground, then carefully getting on the bed. It barely creaks, and he arches an
eyebrow. “Hey, they make ‘em strong down here. Not surprising--ya seen their
women? The one they want ya t’marry?”
 
Nazuna’s jaw immediately clenches. It doesn’t do much to harden the cherubic,
too-young, too-soft looking lines of his face, but he tries to look pissed off
all the same. “Pass.” Even if she’s a princess, and could quickly give him the
title his family has always longed for—in this case, it’s a very big no, thank
you. “She’s awful.”
 
“She’s built for a man like me,” Kuro rumbles, reaching a gentle hand over to
chuck Nazuna under the chin. “Not a pretty thing like you.”
 
“I don’t care about that, I don’t like her on at least twenty levels that have
nothing to do with her appearance,” Nazuna growls, swatting Kuro’s hand away.
“But I can’t think of a single woman I like, anyway, so to hell with it, I’ll
be unmarried forever.”
 
Kuro doesn’t even flinch in the slightest with the slap. If anything, his grin
deepens, and he drops his hand to Nazuna’s chest, fiddling with his buttons.
“Ahh, unmarried with such fine work like this? You’re the second most eligible
bachelor in the country, ya know.”
 
“If you were trying to be charming, you’d tell me I was the most eligible
bachelor,” Nazuna sourly points out, but he doesn’t slap Kuro’s hand away this
time. “You know, your fine work is the reason we’re in this mess. I blame
everything on you.”
 
“An’ here ya thought I was jus’ makin’ ya pretty things for my own fun?” Kuro
beams, and tugs Nazuna up on top of him. “I know I don’ make the fanciest
stuff, but y’always look good in what I make, so that’s good enough for a guy
with fingers as big’s mine.”
 
Nazuna offers a disgruntled little huff as a response at first, but he settles
atop Kuro’s thighs all the same, dropping his hands onto Kuro’s shoulders. Just
straddling Kuro’s stupidly massive thighs makes Nazuna’s own ache, and his
hands look very much like doll hands when placed upon Kuro’s stupid breadth.
Idiot, Nazuna thinks, because he can, and that’s easier than enjoying this.
“I’m trying to insult you, at least follow along,” he grumbles without much
bite to the words. “What good are you, anyway. You’re the reason we nearly got
caught, you’re the one that won’t tell me anything useful…”
 
“Mm, I’m the worst,” Kuro agrees cheerfully, reaching down to stroke his hands
up under Nazuna’s shirt, rubbing his supple thighs through the fabric of his
trousers. “You got to admit, I’ve kept you alive this long, though. So I’m
doin’ somethin’ right.”
 
“I’ve stabbed enough people, you’re just an accessory,” Nazuna grumpily says,
though he’s obviously mollified by the way he gradually slumps forward into
Kuro’s chest, not hating the way Kuro’s hands feel when they’re petting him.
Eventually, his face comes to bury into Kuro’s neck, and very quietly, Nazuna
finally says, “Does this mean you’re done sulking over Izumi finally?”
 
“I’m still gonna put him in a bag and toss him in the ocean,” Kuro grumbles,
rubbing up and down Nazuna’s back. “Boss or no. Ya gotta get better at keepin’
a straight face. Izumi’s my Commander, but he’s as bad at keepin’ his mouth
shut as his legs. Nn, you smell good, who’s been rubbin’ ya with oils?”
 
“Who hasn’t? I hate it here, everyone keeps touching me and talking about how
pale I am,” Nazuna complains, a whine starting to creep into his voice as he
starts to relax. He flops a bit more into Kuro’s chest, hooking his chin over
his shoulder. “I’m good at keeping a straight face, Izumi just caught me off-
guard, and I was kind of tipsy, and it’s not my fault he remembers everything
everyone ever told him.”
 
“Also, he likes ya,” Kuro points out, amused even through his annoyance. “He’s
always wanted to give y’a ride.”
 
“You say that now, after you know that’s what happened,” Nazuna accuses half-
heartedly. “Don’t act like you knew the whole time. I wish they’d make him come
down here and suffer for a bit and drink that insanely sweet tea they all love,
he’d puke, he’d deserve it.”
 
“Hey, that stuff ain’t bad.” Kuro rests his hands on Nazuna’s ass, squeezing
gently, nowhere near the full power of his hands. “Th’ thing that’s puttin’ an
itch in my boots is how they don’t drink booze down here. I hear y’gotta go to
a special brothel and pay out the tit just t’get a sip.”
 
Nazuna scoffs, his hands slowly sliding back to lace around the back of Kuro’s
neck. “You can get booze here if they want you to marry their daughters,” he
slyly says. “I might have a few bottles of wine in here. It’s weak, compared to
the capital’s, but…”
 
Kuro’s face turns from scowling to pleading, looking up with large, sad eyes.
“Ya wouldn’t deny me, would ya? I’ll take real good care of ya, just a lil’
sip...”
 
Nazuna heaves a sigh, and painstakingly peels himself out of Kuro’s lap.
“You’re gonna chug it straight from the bottle like a brute,” he grouses,
hopping out of bed to trot across the room and throw open one of the chests
tucked away into a corner. He pulls out a bottle of wine all the same and
brings it over. “You better be sweet to me.”
 
“A bottle’s not much more than a sip for me,” Kuro points out woefully,
reaching for the bottle with something like relief in his eyes. “Ahhh, I’ll be
able to sleep tonight, you’re the kindest, cutest, sweetest thing I ever did
lay eyes on, ya know? C’mere, I’ll give you a sip too...”
 
“I have a second bottle if you keep at it,” Nazuna sweetly says, holding the
bottle just out of Kuro’s reach as he climbs back into his lap. “But you
already fucked up. Call me cute again and I’ll break this over your head.”
 
“And ruin all the nice blankets?” Kuro asks, pretending to be scandalized. He
sighs, then shifts up onto his knees, lowering his head to press it to the bed.
“O Great Master, please allow me to serve thee in private once again, in
exchange for thou...uh, thy...thee? sweet nectar of the gods....”
 
“You’re the worst at that, just stop already,” Nazuna complains, sinking his
teeth into the cork and ripping it out in short order. “Sit up, take this wine
and enjoy it, it’s stupid marriage wine, anyway.”
 
“They’re pretty quick on jumpin’ the gun, then, huh?” Kuro asks, amused as he
straightens up and takes the wine. He doesn’t exactly swallow it in one gulp,
but he does swallow about half of it in two gulps before taking a pause.
“Sweet,” he mutters, mouth twisting in a grimace. “Everything down here is so
damn sweet. Except you, I guess.”
 
“I’m not from here, thank the gods,” Nazuna sniffs, forwardly crawling his way
back into Kuro’s lap. “It’s all too sweet, I hate it. I could never marry a
woman from here because then I’d be expected to spend any amount of time here
and there’snot enough money in that for me to care.”
 
“It’s your money they want,” Kuro points out dryly, tugging Nazuna into his
lap. “Ahh, there, that’s where ya belong. If you squirm around real nice I’ll
let ya drink from my lips, doesn’t that sound good?”
 
“I know they want my money, but I’m fine with that if there’s more money to be
made from that—and here, there isn’t, so forget it,” Nazuna mutters. He humors
Kuro with a pointed little squirm, even though he has absolutely zero interest
in too-sweet wine. “What happened to taking care of me? Now I have to work for
it? Traitor.”
 
Kuro sucks in a breath through his teeth, and sets the wine aside, curling an
arm around Nazuna’s waist. “Well, now, that’s sweet of ya, innit? No more
politics an’ prostitutes today, or you’ll get sick from stress.” He nuzzles up
behind Nazuna’s ear, gentle as only he can be, brushing his lips over the
curve. “I gotta protect ya from danger like that.”
 
“You’re right, that’s the last thing I need,” Nazuna exhales, sinking back into
Kuro’s chest a bit more. His fingers curl over Kuro’s arm (not even close to
being able to wrap around it) and squeeze slowly. “I hate this place. Take my
mind off of it, would you?”
 
Despite the hardness of his skin when under pressure, Kuro can still feel every
tiny press of Nazuna’s little fingers. The ogre blood only comes out when
someone tries to break the skin; otherwise, he’s as sensitive and pliable as
anyone. It’s him that has to be careful, palming Nazuna’s chest, big fingers as
nimble as anyone’s, plucking at the fine fabric and pushing the wrought golden
buttons through the holes. “The only place you are is with me,” he rumbles,
catching Nazuna’s chin between two fingers, turning his face up. “That’s all ya
gotta think about.”
 
Nazuna’s breath hitches up in his chest, and he ducks his head, taking a
playful snap at Kuro’s fingers. He knows better than to bite down—that had
resulted in a chipped tooth, and he isn’t interested in that again—but his
teeth graze over skin all the same, and better, his tongue follows, flicking
over the tip of Kuro’s thumb. “That’s all I’m thinking about,” he murmurs. It’s
a lot easier to do just that when Kuro is so big and warm and close to him,
thank the gods.
 
A shiver goes through Kuro, and he tightens his hands, feeling himself get
closer and closer to losing control. “One more touch,” he breathes warningly,
easing the shirt off of Nazuna’s shoulders. Nazuna knows him well enough to
process the warning by now. His cock twitches in his trousers, hardening
against the sweet, full curve of Nazuna’s ass. “Or you get off and I go slow.”
 
A little growl wells up in Nazuna’s throat, and he resists the urge to bite
again as he shifts in Kuro’s lap, wriggling down against the hardening line of
his cock. “You’ll do no such thing,” he mutters, tilting his head back to stare
up at Kuro, his eyes narrowing. “Going slow down here means we’ll get
interrupted.”
 
“Then I hope you’ve got plenty of oil,” Kuro rumbles, and shifts Nazuna up just
long enough to pull himself out of his breeches, sliding his cock up between
Nazuna’s cloth-covered buttocks. “Mmm...maybe I’ll just do this,” he teases.
“Like old times, eh?” It had been five years before Nazuna had convinced him to
actually try penetrative intercourse, five years where Nazuna had always been
less than a hairsbreadth away from slapping, kicking, or choking him
ineffectually every time he refused.
 
“I’ll kill you,” is Nazuna’s reflexive threat, but it’s rather out of breath,
and decidedly unthreatening when his hands clench uselessly against Kuro’s arm,
his fingers kneading in slowly. His breath escapes as a shaky sigh, his head
thunking back against Kuro’s shoulder as he arches his back, letting his ass
rub slowly back against Kuro’s cock. “I’ve been suffering,” he groans, turning
his head to nuzzle into Kuro’s neck, much more affectionate when he has a
figurative carrot dangled in front of his face. “You have to spoil me.”
 
“Mm, with ya bein’ so sweet,” Kuro says softly, “don’t see as I’ve got any
choice. No worries, I’ll give ya what y’want.”
 
Nazuna is a demanding lover, but a very charming one when he’s getting what he
wants. When they’ve been having each other over and over for days, he never
bothers with long, careful preparation, knowing how it annoys his much smaller
lover. But with their close quarters and spies everywhere, it’s been something
of a dry spell...
 
Kuro reaches for the bedside table, and the drawer containing a little pitcher
of oil. “Ya been keepin’ in practice?” he asks archly, slicking himself
liberally, easing Nazuna’s trousers down over the curve of his ass with the
other hand. Neither of them have ever been terribly fond of foreplay.
 
“With what time?” Nazuna crossly grumbles, arching forward onto his knees to
help ease his clothes down further. His thighs tremble, already strained and
aching just from being spread open across Kuro’s lap, but he ignores it,
savoring the ache instead. The shivery anticipation that comes with thinking of
Kuro in him—even if he’ll undoubtedly regret this later, at least
somewhat—cancels out any worry about aches and pains. “It’s fine if it takes a
few tries,” he breathes, glancing back over his shoulder. “Just—I’ll tell you
if it’s too much, you know that.”
 
Kuro hesitates, then shrugs. He’s never met anyone as desperate for him as
Nazuna, something he loves more than he wants to admit. Gently, he holds his
hips, then rocks forward, dragging the slick head against that deceptively
small hole a few times before starting to press. “Don’t worry,” he breathes,
holding Nazuna close to his chest, whispering directly into his ear. His entire
body tells him to move, the fierce ogre blood coursing through his veins urging
him to take what he wants, to ravage and take, and he only manages to fight
most of it down, feeling the blunt head of his cock catch on that hole, start
to force it open. “Your body’ll remember, soon enough...ahhh, there ya go...”
 
Any little quips on Nazuna’s tongue die out completely. This, after so long
without, is always far more than too much, and that first, aching push takes
his breath away entirely. A whine wells up from his chest, his fingers
scrabbling for purchase at Kuro’s arm as reflex makes him want to arch away,
but even just the head of that huge, thick cock spreading him open makes his
legs weak and his body floppy and pliant. Nazuna’s breath catches on a whimper,
and his legs give a last, weak tremble before giving out underneath him,
forcing him to give into gravity instead of struggling away.
 
“It’s s-so…” More than anything, Nazuna hates the way he sounds in moments like
this, his voice higher and rasping and with the stuttering lisp he’s fought so
hard to get rid of over the years. There’s got to be a wire crossed in his
brain somewhere for something like this to feel good—Kuro’s far too big,
there’s no way he’ll fit, but Nazuna can’t find it in himself to fight or
squirm away. He slumps back, chest heaving raggedly, his face flushed red as
sweat trickles down the back of his neck. “You…ah…m-more oil, p-please, before
you try to…”
 
“Yeah,” Kuro grunts, and bites his own lip, feeling his teeth sink in deep. The
one thing he’s never been impervious to is his own body. He grabs for the oil,
vision flaring red at the sides when he doesn’t immediately give in to the
sweet tight heat around him, doesn’t grab Nazuna and rut himself stupid,
spending himself in the fae little body writhing on his cock. But he’s had
years of practice holding back the monster inside of him, and it doesn’t win
now.
 
He tips the rest of the oil out onto the skin where they’re joined, making it
even slicker when he grinds in a bit more, tipping them both forward to get
Nazuna on his hands and knees, one huge arm wrapped around his waist. The
noises that come out of his mouth aren’t speech, just grunts, less and less
human with each second that passes, the red creeping back into his vision as
the skin of his belly drags over Nazuna’s back.
 
Nazuna’s arms wobble before they slide out from underneath him entirely,
slumping him facedown into the fine sheets. He pants open-mouthed, his nails
clawing into the bed weakly. The oil helps—thank the gods, because Kuro is so
much, so long and thick that it feels like he’s dying, and no amount of letting
his legs splay apart, no amount of telling himself to relax, to just take his
time and focus makes it easier.
 
Which means it’s time to stop thinking and enjoy already.
 
Nazuna buries his burning face into the sheets, a broken, whimpering groan
leaving his throat when he feels his body just give in, letting Kuro’s cock
sink into him further and further with every little thrust. He feels himself
drooling, and his hands knead helplessly down into the bed, his body limp and
useless when he’s being fucked so thoroughly. It doesn’t make sense, but his
cock still aches between his legs, twitching whenever Kuro manages to get
another centimeter inside, the impossible length of him making it feel like he
can feel Kuro’s cock in his throat.
 
No one else has ever enjoyed being with him the way Nazuna does. Something in
the little Master of Coin craves the size of him, enough that it would be
unbearable for anyone else, and just because Kuro has no idea why doesn’t mean
he’d ever pass up the opportunity to take what he needs so badly.
 
It’s a lot less embarrassing to act like a rutting bull when there’s someone
receptive and pliant keening under him, every motion making it clear that he’s
begging for more. It’s just as well--Kuro wasn’t joking about losing his self-
control, and it’s nearly gone now, the last remnants ensuring that he works
himself in with quick little thrusts, a little more each movement, rather than
one big thrust that would probably seriously hurt his lover. His mouth works,
trying to make words, but it comes out in bestial growls and snarls as he fucks
in deep, the squeeze around his cock driving him towards bliss.
 
Hearing the sounds Kuro makes beyond the thudding of his own pulse makes it
better, somehow. He sounds like he’s losing control, and something about that
makes Nazuna groan and squirm, helplessly caught underneath Kuro’s weight and
every unrelenting thrust that buries him deeper and deeper, making it feel like
he could be so easily split in two.
 
There’s no avoiding the way Kuro’s cock rubs over every single overstimulated,
oversensitive nerve inside of him, and when one short, aching thrust finally
makes him bottom out inside of Nazuna, that’s more than enough. Or at least,
that’s the start of it—the first spurt of his release almost feels like a
punishment that makes Nazuna sob from relief all the same, face pressed down
into the sheets when his cock throbs hard, barely getting soft. Keep it in me
like that, he wants to beg, but the words won’t come, and he just whines
instead, the long shudder that rakes down his spine making him clench down
hard.
 
Kuro’s vision goes entirely red.
 
He has just enough thought left to hope he isn’t hurting Nazuna when he moves,
planting both of his hands on the bed on either side of Nazuna’s head. With
that leverage, it’s easy, delightfully easy to slam in over and over, little
grunts ripped out of him in time with the slap of his hips against Nazuna’s. He
gives up what’s left of his mind, giving himself over to The Beast, powerful
thighs flexing as he lets his basest instincts take control. He feels Nazuna
rocking forward with each thrust, and growls, one big hand moving to hold him
down by his upper back, pinning him down to the bed with all the strength of
ten men, keeping him in place so he can fuck into him harder, faster, without
the slightest bit of consciousness, driving mercilessly towards his own climax.
 
A startled little squeak is all that Nazuna can manage before he’s shoved down,
held there, and fucked in the exact way he’s wanted for weeks.
 
It’s so much more than too much. Kuro isn’t careful with him, Kuro can’t be,
not like this, and Nazuna gives into that gratefully with the only noises
leaving his throat breathy, rasping little sounds. It doesn’t hurt—it aches,
with every thrust making groans choke up in his throat at how far he’s spread
open by Kuro’s cock, his body entirely overwhelmed by how far inside Kuro is,
by how easily he sinks in each time now. Dimly, Nazuna feels himself coming
again—a long, slow, tingling orgasm that makes his nipples harden and his toes
curl and his fingers go numb—but that’s so secondary to the way the rest of him
feels, when he’s so full that he doesn’t have to think.
 
Kuro’s orgasms always take him by surprise. This one is no exception, slamming
through him during one brutal thrust, spurt after spurt of hot liquid flooding
into the little body below him for what feels like several minutes as his body
contorts, seizing in a rictus of pleasure.
 
For a moment, Kuro isn’t sure who he is. The spasms are intense, leaving him
wrecked and exhausted, but feeling clean inside. The Beast builds up in him
slowly, when it’s not allowed to get out, and fnding an outlet always helps.
He’s never found one as perfect as Nazuna, though, and he clings to the other
man through the last of the convulsions, letting the red recede from his
vision. “You all right?” he finally manages to whisper, not daring to move yet.
 
Nazuna manages a little squeak, and not much else for a long moment. He slowly
sinks down, content to keep his face flat into the bed as he breathes heavily,
feeling sweat cool, feeling his body start to complain. “Y-yeah,” he eventually
whispers, grimacing as he shifts, all-too-full and less happy about it by the
moment. It’s starting to feel less lewd, and more…unpleasantly squishy. “You
have…a minute left. Maybe. Before I get mad.”
 
“Yeah...but ya get mad if I pull out too fast,” Kuro reminds him, still
breathless, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. Then he reaches to the
side and grabs an old shirt, dragging it beneath where they’re joined before he
slowly, carefully pulls out. It’s no use reminding Nazuna afterwards that he’d
asked, begged for this. He’ll be angry for a little while, but it won’t stop
him from begging for it the next time they have a private moment. “How’s that?”
 
Cursing like a sailor, Nazuna twists to the side, kicking back at Kuro with an
unhappy squeal. “Ow, ow, ow—ahhh, that feels no good, everything’s dripping,
why do you come so much…” he bemoans, shivering and curling up into a grumpy
little ball. As much as he complains, however, it’s obvious he doesn’t hate it
to much, judging by how red his face is and how he doesn’t pull any further
away. “This is your fault.”
 
“Yep,” Kuro says with a shrug. “All my fault, blame me. It’s the ogre blood, I
just can’t control myself.”
 
He stretches out his arms over his head, shucking the rest of his clothing with
a grunt. “You want a drink?”
 
“Yeah. Like, a lot of it.” Nazuna gingerly stretches out, blowing a sweaty
strand of hair out of his face. “Then I want you to be a pillow.”
 
“I’ll be a pretty big pillow,” Kuro says with a grin, grabbing the rest of the
wine bottle and passing it over, flopping gingerly down onto the bed, now fully
naked to avoid soiling his clothes. “Ya got all clean down there?”
 
Nazuna just growls at him, and curls up around the bottle of wine, making no
attempt to move (or even drink). “If I drip on you, it’s your fault and you’ll
deal with it.”
 
One big hand comes up to pat Nazuna’s back. Kuro reclines, sated down to the
bone. “I never feel so good as when I’m in ya,” he rumbles, pulling the smaller
man close to rest on top of him. “Like flyin’. Like seein’ heaven.”
 
Less grumpy and more exhausted to the bone, Nazuna allows himself to be pulled
over and petted, sprawled over Kuro’s chest and fitting there rather nicely.
“Good,” he mutters, clutching his wine bottle and butting his head underneath
Kuro’s chin. “That kinda praise gets you places.”
 
Kuro grins, and traces little patterns on Nazuna’s back. “Sounds good, but
th’only place I wanna be is here. Well. Not here. Pref’rably back up North,
where there’s stronger wine.”
 
Nazuna stifles a yawn into Kuro’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut. “The
stronger the wine, the better,” he murmurs. “For you, at least. You’re the
worst, a real brute. Do it again later.”
 
“You know how to take it,” Kuro rumbles. He doesn’t bother to tug on a blanket;
he never gets cold down in these blasted Sandlands, and Nazuna is more than
warm enough snuggled up to him. “I’m always at your service, Sir.”
***** Chapter 24 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Rei is a wizard and nearly invulnerable. For that reason, Keito doesn’t bother
with a warning shot, and instead slams open the door of Rei’s inner study, then
immediately fires an arrow directly at the man he works for, expecting it will
be magically stopped. “Before you ask, you should know what you did,” he snaps,
eyes dark with anger.
 
Rei, for his part, doesn’t bring out the magical arsenal yet. Instead, he
simply ducks underneath his desk, far more enamored with the idea of hiding
than actually engaging Keito when he has a bow and arrow in hand. “For once,
I’m at a loss,” he sing-songs, fluttering a hand up over the edge of his desk.
“Please don’t shoot me, I’m feeling very feeble today.”
 
Keito rolls his eyes, and nocks another arrow. “You sent me,” he reminds Rei,
in what he thinks is a very patient tone, despite the loaded weapon in his
hand, “to pose as a client in every Sandlands brothel I could find--and then,
what else did you do without telling me, Rei? Don’t answer, I’ll tell you.”
 
His eyes blaze, and his hand quivers slightly on the string. “You also sent my
assistant--the boy you gave me to raise when he was five--to act as a
prostitute in one of said brothels--without telling him or me or letting me
know where he’d be! Guess what happened and maybe I won’t shoot you.”
 
“Oh, did you have a bit of a tryst? You do smell like him, now that I sit and
think about it.”
 
It isn’t really Keito’s fault that he fires an arrow at that.
 
It grazes Rei’s hand before he can jerk it down and into hiding, and Rei yelps,
curling up into a tinier ball underneath his desk. His legs still stick out
quite a bit, but it’s close enough. “For the record,” he carefully attempts,
“it wasn’t my intention for the two of you to become…intertwined. But if I had
mentioned the situation, it could have easily endangered everything.”
 
“It would have been worth it! You ass!” Furious, Keito kicks the desk, gritting
his teeth when that hurts his foot. “Are you so far removed from humanity that
you don’t see what you’ve done? I should kill you just for what you’ve done to
that boy! Get out from behind there and let me shoot you!”
 
“What I’ve done to that boy? You’re going to have to be very specific, but I
assure you, I haven’t done anything that he didn’t agree to.” Rei slowly peeks
his head out over the edge of the desk, raising a hand up for mercy. “Shoot me
and you’ll never get an explanation.”
 
Keito scowls. “I don’t need an explanation, I need some kind of indication that
you’re not truly a monster, and you are the man I thought you were! What kind
of shithead sends a friend--fuck, you were my lover--to fuck his adopted son?”
 
“I didn’t send you to fuck him, first of all—I didn’t send you to do anything
with him, but the fact something happened proves what I’ve thought for years
now, that he’s quite enamored with you, and vice versa.”
 
Rei pulls himself to his feet, dropping his hands to the edge of his desk as he
frowns across it at Keito. “He’s not your son,” he flatly points out. “For
whatever that’s worth. He’s your student and he’s been underneath your care,
but he’s not your son. He certainly doesn’t think of you as a father, or he
wouldn’t’ve lied to your face since meeting you.”
 
Some of that, admittedly, dovetails with what Keito has quietly suspected for a
while, but hadn’t wanted to say. “You made him do that, too,” he accuses,
through he relaxes the hands on his bow, and doesn’t draw another arrow. “You
should take responsibility. You never let him be a child, he was always
fulfilling your designs.”
 
Heaving a sigh, Rei spreads his hands helplessly. “I enlisted his help because
that’s what he wanted. You can paint me as the villain all you like, but he
begged me for the chance. If you dislike that, you can scold him and his
motivations.”
 
“He was five! And I will scold him, that’s what I do, because you told me to
raise him and then you arranged things so I might have to sleep with him,
which, in case my voice is making it unclear, I am upset about.”
 
“You’ve thought he was lovely since he was twenty-three, stop lying to
yourself,” Rei snaps, finally letting a flutter of irritation to show. “I
didn’t arrange you to sleep with him, for the last time. I’m sorry if it wasn’t
an ideal situation, but it wasn’t intentional on my part, no matter what he
might have told you. That boy has a good head on his shoulders; he’s known
since he was five that he wanted to take down the Academy’s Emperor, don’t tell
me I’ve influenced him so much.”
 
Keito lets out a huff, and flops down onto the edge of Rei’s desk, stashing his
bow to the side. “That’s my shame,” he says quietly. “I never wanted him to
know. I know he’s an adult now, but--I never, ever would have touched him. I
have some morals.”
 
Rei stares at him, then heaves a sigh, and reaches forward to pat the top of
Keito’s head. “Honestly. Do you really think he didn’t know?”
 
Keito’s face burns, and he stares down at his knees. “I hoped he didn’t. How
the hell did you know that it was when he was twenty-three?”
 
“It’s adorable that you think I wasn’t lurking about and watching you when I
had the chance.”
 
“You could have made yourself known.” Keito reaches over, giving Rei’s shoulder
a gentle shove. “I missed you. Ass.”
 
“And have you capture me and toss me to the previous Emperor? I think not,” Rei
sweetly says, catching Keito’s hand in his own and bringing it to his lips for
a brisk kiss. “Your taste had changed by then. You decided adorable, wholesome
redheads were to your liking.”
 
“You don’t think that may have had something to do with you?” Keito asks
tartly, trying not to look mollified by the kiss. “My lover of over a decade
suddenly formed a soul-bond to someone who thinks I’m garbage, then got himself
declared an enemy of my Emperor, then vanished.” His lips tighten. “It was like
you forgot me completely. Like it meant nothing. Not to be all sentimental, I
don’t care what you do or with whom, but...”
 
“I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, Keito.” Rei lowers Keito’s hand,
but doesn’t release it. “No one has a choice in that sort of thing. It wasn’t
exactly what I would call convenient for me, either—or pleasant. Sex wizards
were not exactly created to be bound to one person.”
 
“I heard you cried for five days.” One corner of Keito’s mouth twitches. Rei’s
hand on his still draws a reaction, damn him, even though he knows it must be
making Rei ill. That’s hardly flattering.
 
“Who told you that? They’re a liar.” Rei’s lips purse, and he gives Keito’s
hand a slow squeeze. “Keito. It really wasn’t my intention to put you or Mao in
an uncomfortable situation. I’m sorry it happened, but…”
 
“You should apologize to him.” Keito turns away, mouth set in a bitter line.
“Even if he did have an idea of how I...that my thoughts had strayed into
inappropriate territory. He shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”
 
Rei rolls his eyes, finally releasing Keito’s hand. “Or, he had an idea, and he
also has his own desires to play around with. Give him some credit.”
 
“He didn’t have a choice, Rei.” That much, at least, is clear to Keito. “He’s
young and attractive, and athletic, and intelligent. Having to get on his knees
for someone like me--he didn’t have any choice in it.”
 
“Stop that, on about five levels.” Rei frowns and drops back into his desk
chair. “First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re handsome and smart
and talented. Second of all, consider for one moment the boy’s agency in all of
this. He agreed to the job, he knew something like this could very well happen,
and he still went. If anything, it must be something of a relief that he gets
to do as he likes and he’s not being…” He trails off, fluttering a hand.
“Unimportant. Either way, I’m sure he had fun.”
 
“Even--even if I thought you were right, and for some reason he didn’t hate
being forced to suck off a fifty-year-old man who gets winded walking up the
stairs,” Keito snaps, folding his arms over his chest, “I doubt I was at my
best being watched by a woman and soaked through with opium! If...if anything
were ever to...well, it shouldn’t have been like that!”
 
“Instead of scolding me about it, perhaps you should ask him how he felt about
it,” Rei mildly says, leaning his head back against his chair. “And I don’t
know, I thought blowing you was always an enjoyable task.”
 
Twin spots of color rise in Keito’s cheeks. “B-be that as it may. He doesn’t
have your...experience. And that’s another thing--how long have you had him
doing this kind of thing?”
 
“What kind of thing might that be? Sucking you off?”
 
“Yes--well, not me,” Keito clarifies hastily. “Using his body to gather
information. He said it isn’t the first time you’ve put him in a situation like
this. How fucking old was he?”
 
Rei blinks back at Keito. “I honestly can’t recall any other time I’ve asked
him to act as a prostitute to get information,” he says. “I know that he’s
bedded a handful of women in his day to find out certain things, but…”
 
“So you never threw him to a bunch of monstrous creatures from the Shadowlands
to ravage?”
 
“That’s not prostitution.”
 
“It’s still really creepy, Rei. And honestly, as his guardian, I should kill
you.”
 
“It’s not creepy, he wanted the kind of power only something like that could
bring.” Rei heaves a sigh. “Keito, he’s very good at getting your sympathy.
It’s sort of been his job for awhile now.”
 
Keito opens his mouth to object, then closes it. “If he were that good at it,”
he argues, “he surely would have done it back when everything...happened. He
didn’t even try to escape torture. Gods, he’s got such a strong will.”
 
“He didn’t try to escape because he’s still loyal to me, obviously.” Rei tilts
his head to one side. “You think he could never be interested in you because of
what you had to do, don’t you.”
 
“I--”
 
The statement brings Keito up short. He hadn’t thought of that part of it. The
second Rei said it, though, the words turn over in his head, resonating with
his feelings, making a horrible sense. “He shouldn’t be,” he says softly. “I
failed him in every way I ever could. And I’ve never atoned for it.”
 
“He turned back to come and make sure I didn’t execute you. I think it’s safe
to say he understood there were extenuating circumstances, and that he isn’t
upset with you. But you don’t have to believe me, bring it up with him.”
 
“Oh, great idea. I’ll just send him a gift basket or something. I wonder if the
florist has a recommendation for ‘sorry that I, your mentor and guardian, had
you tortured and also came on your feet.’”
 
“On his feet? Goodness, you should have at least saved that one for your fourth
or fifth go.”
 
“It was the second time,” Keito mutters. “The first was in his mouth. But there
was so much opium in the air, and a fat woman was watching, so I hardly count
that one.”
 
“Keito,” Rei exasperatedly says, leaning forward. “He’s long since forgiven
you, or he wouldn’t’ve come back for you in the first place—nor would he let
you come on his feet, I’m assuming. But he’s an odd bird, so who even knows
about that one.”
 
Keito snorts. “I suppose you’re right, in your colorful way. But still...if
this were something he were doing with someone else, then as his guardian I’d
tell him it was a bad idea. I just...how could anyone truly forgive someone for
that kind of betrayal?”
 
“You have a good head on your shoulders, and remember that everyone was doing
their job and nothing more than that. Or at least, that’s how he thinks,” Rei
wryly muses. “You should really be discussing this with him, though.”
 
“Oh, I will. But I had to kill you first,” Keito explains. “You deserve it, you
see.”
 
“Ah. But I’m helping, you can’t kill me.”
 
“You’re only helping because of an awful situation that you caused! You don’t
get praise for that!”
 
“That’s okay, that’s okay, you can punish me,” Rei hums, plopping his chin down
into one hand as he beams at Keito. “I’m a free agent right now, you see. If
you want to strike me, now’s the time. Soon, my Demon Queen will return and
we’ll be joined at the hip once more, but for now…”
 
“I’m not going to strike you, you’d just enjoy it,” Keito grumbles. “You’re far
too much...that way. And I suppose I need to save all of my virility for all
the thousands of brothels I still have to check--I’m not finding them, you
know. All the Northerners are disappearing before I can investigate. I have a
feeling they won’t show someone like me the real goods. I think we’ll have to
place our trust in the natives. Mao says they don’t tell him much, either.”
 
“That’s what I was afraid of, unfortunately.” Rei’s expression darkens
immediately, and he frowns, drumming his fingers against his own cheek. “I
dislike that so much of this burden cannot be further distributed, especially
when my other, previous sources of information have been so quiet lately.
Relying on Mika alone…well.”
 
“As an intelligence-gatherer,” Keito says dryly, “I’d rather not rely on him at
all. He isn’t the sort of person that I would want to place all of my hopes on.
Through no fault of his own, he’s just...hmm. Or is it politically incorrect to
talk about his failings these days?”
 
“It irritates me so much, but I’ll hear your complai—ah, concerns, because
that’s what an Emperor does—listen to people compl…be concerned. All day.”
 
Keito stares at him for a moment, then slides off the desk. “If Mao asks, I got
you with an arrow. Somewhere painful. Goodbye, Emperor.”
 
“He can’t feel it, you know,” Rei lightly tosses after him. “His bond. You
needn’t worry about him being caused any sort of pain because of that. He’s
probably having a grand time, all things considered.”
 
At that, Keito pauses, turning slowly around. “All things considered?” he
echoes. “What does that mean?”
 
“I’m not there to monitor him, Ritsu’s not there to monitor him, you’re not
there to monitor him, so he’s left entirely to his own devices in a whore
house—it’s probably a lot of fun, in a strange sort of way. Believe it or not,
I’ve never given him a mission like this.”
 
Keito cocks his head. “What kind of fun, exactly, is there to be had working in
a brothel?”
 
“Casual sex with men that tell him he’s beautiful? I don’t know, it sounds fun
to me.”
 
“Constant sex with men who can’t get willing partners any other way?” Keito
counters. “It isn’t like men who patronize brothels are the most exquisite
specimens. There’s a reason you sent me.”
 
“He’s in a good area of town, I didn’t stick him just anywhere,” Rei dismisses.
“And I sent you because you are an exquisite specimen that stands out, yes, so
you must be even more of a treat for him.”
 
“Rei. I’m old.” Keito pushes up his spectacles on his nose, suddenly feeling
very tired. “And I may be Enhanced, but I’m no true wizard or bloodbred to live
for centuries and look youthful while I do it.”
 
“What does that have to do with anything? You’re handsome and you look
expensive, roll with it and let him come next time.”
 
Keito blinks, so hard he needs to push his spectacles up again. “What--I--how
did you--”
 
Rei smiles back at him, his eyes glittering. “It’s very cute that after all
this time, you still forget what I am.”
 
“Listen. I was flustered.”
 
“It’s common courtesy, help the kid out.”
 
“You’re making things up, there’s no such thing as common courtesy in extremely
uncommon situations!”
 
“Disagree. Shouldn’t you want to spoil him, to make it up to him~?”
 
“But--he’s got a resonant bond,” Keito points out, hands flapping awkwardly.
“Me touching him should have made him feel awful, so I abstained!”
 
“I just told you, he can’t exactly feel it,” Rei drawls. “You also put your
dick in his mouth. That’s plenty of touching.”
 
“I had to! It--ugh, i’m not going to justify this again,” Keito grumbles,
grabbing his bow from the desk. “I’ll talk to him. Maybe. Though I don’t know
what there is to say.”
 
“If there’s nothing to say, then don’t say anything,” Rei says, fluttering a
hand. “Just kiss him instead. Let the boy have fun on a mission for once in his
life, I’ve worked him to the bone up until now.”
 
“...Fine.” Keito hitches his bow over his shoulder, buttoning his coat. “But
you’re pouring me wine after I fall in love with another beautiful man with a
resonant bond.”
 
Rei opens his mouth with a sharp reply on his tongue, then thinks the better of
it. “I have very good wine,” he says instead. “Good luck, and report back to me
the second you hear anything.”
 
“Of course, Rei. We’re all at your service, aren’t you?”
 
And with that, Keito leaves, heart only aching a little for something that was
never really his.
***** Chapter 25 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
It’s less because anything is happening (sort of), more because he’s simply
lonely that Mao decides to tuck a bundle of red fabric between the curtain and
his window, signaling the need for Keito’s presence.
 
It isn’t as if he doesn’t have anything to relay. There’s plenty, about
Northerners and Southerners alike, and perhaps most importantly, the lack of
contact he’s been able to have with the palace where Mika is stashed away.
Sooner rather than later, he’s going to need to sneak his way out of here, but
for tonight, huddling up around a bottle of wine that’s not even beginning to
get him drunk is ideal. Not a single message from Ritsu, not even a single
message from Rei—that’s isolating, and frustrating, or is it sort of freeing?
Time will tell.
 
Mao is a capable, intelligent person, who has been on his own for more missions
than Keito has ever heard of. Logically, Keito knows, he doesn’t need to be
checked on often. Once a week, perhaps.
 
Which is why he takes lodging across the street, and checks Mao’s window at
least three times a day.
 
It’s not fussing, he tells himself. It’s just being thorough. And that
thoroughness is bourn out when he sees the telltale flash of red in the window,
galvanizing him into action even as his knees ache, body exhausted after a long
day.
 
He can’t tell if the Madam remembers him or not. She gives no indication either
way, though the hint of derision in the set of her mouth when he requests ‘the
redhead with the Northern accent’ makes him think she does remember him after
all. He requests privacy, and passes over a few extra coins, and in return she
leads him to a room he hasn’t seen before, draped in wine-purple cushions and
blankets, with a huge soft bed, a selection of accoutrements, an entire wall of
toys, oils, and ropes.
 
“Premium suite’s available,” she tells him with a yawn. “If you give him the
pox, you pay the funeral bill, that’s the law.”
 
With that delightfully inspiring image, she leaves, and Keito starts to pace,
trying not to imagine any number of awful things that could have happened to
Mao in the last few weeks.
 
Barely two minutes pass before the door creaks open, and Mao, carting a second
bottle of wine, hair down, and a mostly sheer robe barely tied in places,
slinks inside. Relief immediately dawns upon his face at the sight of Keito,
and he quickly turns the lock on the door, heaving a long sigh. “Ahh, it’s good
to see you again, sir. This place gets pretty stifling after awhile…um, though
you look pretty stressed, are you all right?”
 
Keito exhales slowly, gripping the edge of his chair. “You’re well. At least,
it looks as if you’re well. Are you all right? Fuck, I need wine, pour some of
that.”
 
“It’s very strong,” Mao warns him in advance, and sets down a cup, filling it
half-way instead of to the brim before passing it over. “I’m well, more or
less? This whole situation, though…”
 
“It’s stupid,” Keito says flatly, “and unfair to you. Here, sit, tell me what’s
been going on.” He doesn’t cough when he drinks, but only because Mao had
warned him.
 
Mao pauses, a quick glance about the room making it obvious there aren’t any
other chairs, just the one Keito is in, plus a bed, and so he flops down to the
floor at Keito’s feet instead. “A few men that I’m certain are slavers came
through this place, the other day,” he says, glancing up through his bangs.
“Well—a few men, and a woman. I was dealing with a client at the time, so I
couldn’t get a thorough look at them, but…”
 
The fact that Keito’s first reaction is to want to ask about the other client
instead of the slavers is enough to tell him to get himself in order, quite
sternly. He drops a hand, patting Mao’s shoulder. It’s warm against his hand,
and he squeezes slightly. “I heard about that gang at another brothel. Was it
four men and a woman? Could you tell anything about their accents?”
 
“Mm, that’s them. The woman was definitely native. The men…maybe one of them
was, but the rest were foreign. They couldn’t find anyone they liked here, so
there was a pretty length argument with the Madam…all in sandtongue,
unfortunately,” Mao grumbles, rolling his eyes. “And what I know isn’t good
enough to follow along. Did you know prostitutes have their own version of it?
It’s too much, all of this is.”
 
Keito’s hand moves hesitantly up to Mao’s hair, stroking it gently. He hadn’t
done this, when Mao was a child. Back then, Mao hadn’t been a terribly
affectionate apprentice, preferring verbal praise for his intellectual
pursuits, and Keito has never been a very physical person. But in the last ten
years, Keito has found himself wondering whether Mao’s hair would be soft, or
stiff, and seeks out an answer. “You shouldn’t have to be here much longer,” he
assures Mao. “I talked to...our boss. He knows the main task will be on his
lover’s pet.”
 
Mao purses his lips, dissatisfied with that answer, but distracted by the touch
to his hair. It’s unusual that Keito touches him so forwardly, but Mao supposes
he has put himself into prime petting zone, so it’s only fair. He tilts his
head forward obediently, letting himself be touched. “That sounds bad,” he
bluntly says. “He’s not equipped to deal with people like this. He’ll shut
down.”
 
“We’ll have to hope that he doesn’t.” Keito shrugs, and when Mao doesn’t stop
him, keeps petting. It feels startlingly intimate, and he feels rather like a
pervert, almost more than he had when he’d had his cock in Mao’s mouth.
 
Of course, that image doesn’t exactly help him calm down. “Either way, it isn’t
your failure or responsibility. Our boss sent him a bodyguard, so it’s out of
our hands.”
 
“A bodyguard?” Mao skeptically replies. “That’s not going to change the
situation, or make it easier, especially if it’s who I think it is. Ahh…he’s so
difficult to deal with,” he bemoans, slumping forward until his head rests
against Keito’s knee. “Both of our boss’s special interests. They’ve always
been like that, why isn’t it different now…”
 
“Because now he’s in power, so he doesn’t have to do what anyone says,” Keito
says with a snort, inwardly thrilled at the way Mao slumps against him. It
certainly doesn’t feel like Mao is still holding some kind of grudge against
him, no matter what he secretly fears. If anything, this is more affectionate
than Mao usually is, which leads him to wonder... “And have you been...having
fun on this mission?”
 
The question takes Mao off-guard, and he fights down the urge to tense. “It’s
certainly different,” he diplomatically settles upon, shifting carefully
underneath Keito’s touch before switching the subject again. “I need to
eventually sneak out of here, though. Not being able to check in at the
palace—it’s making me nervous.”
 
“I’ll get you out when you want to leave,” Keito assures him, moving his hand
down to brush at the base of Mao’s neck. “I was just thinking...that perhaps it
isn’t all bad here, now that you’re not supervised for the first time? Discover
anything...fun?”
 
Mao tilts his head to stare up at Keito, expression impassive. “Sir, you sound
like a pervert.”
 
“Be polite,” Keito murmurs, mouth twitching slightly at the corners. “I paid
for your time, didn’t I? So entertain me with stories.”
 
“That’s definitely something a pervert would say.” Mao sighs a little, his gaze
flicking away again. “Well, I certainly haven’t had anyone else show up with a
foot fetish.”
 
The fleeting confidence Rei had instilled in Keito dies, and he withdraws his
hand, looking away. “Sorry. I overstepped. Obviously you wouldn’t want to say
that kind of thing to someone like me.”
 
“I’m teasing you, sir.” Mao bats his eyelashes up at him. “It’s no surprise to
me that you’re a pervert, you know. I’ve seen your sketchbooks.”
 
The memory of that day is warm in Keito’s mind. There had been no deceit
between them, then, or none that he’d known about. That had been the fateful
day when he’d let Mao see a bit of him, and had started noticing...
 
“Then you shouldn’t act so surprised. Do you act so virginal with your
other...clients?”
 
“Usually.” Mao smiles up at him innocently. “Would you prefer I didn’t with
you? I suppose you know I’m not, so perhaps the effect isn’t really there.”
 
Keito snorts. “Are you not? R--our boss, told me that you’ve never done work
for him like this before, only teased information out of women through their
tits.”
 
Mao’s expression shifts to one that’s decidedly unimpressed. “Why were you
talking to him about that? If you wanted to know more about my sex life, sir,
you could’ve asked outright.”
 
“I...” Keito clears his throat, pushing up his spectacles. “I wanted to make
certain he hadn’t been using you like this for longer than I could tolerate. I
was responsible for your welfare, you know.”
 
Mao’s eyebrows raise. “Our boss is really obnoxious, but he doesn’t do stuff
like that,” he bluntly says. “Or at least, not unless I’m willing, I guess.
Girls are one thing, but doing something like this…”
 
“Do you hate it?”
 
Keito nearly reaches out, then thinks the better of it, curling his hand in on
itself. “You’re like me, you default to complaining. Maybe that’s my fault. But
if you really hate this, I’ll get you out now.”
 
Mao opens his mouth, then thinks the better of his initial response. It’s only
years of keeping his face very impassive that allow him to keep color back from
his cheeks, though he does look away again. “It’s not as if I hate it. It’s
just…ahh…I guess in a way, I feel guilty, somehow…”
 
“For not hating it?” Keito’s voice is almost eager before he realizes what he’s
been ignoring, and forces a smile. Fortunately, he’s quite good at making them
seem genuine. “Or about your bonded?”
 
At that, Mao can’t keep back a wince, and he shifts restlessly where he sits,
his fingers curling against his knees. “I mean—like I’ve said before, I’ve
never been great at feeling my bond,” he admits. “So…it’s less about that,
and—yeah, it’s more about not hating it. I guess it’s not…terrible, being out
of reach of everyone that can tell me what to do, heh.”
 
Keito takes a risk, and lets his hand move back to Mao’s neck. “There’s nothing
wrong with enjoying yourself,” he says softly. “You’ve had precious little time
for that, in your life.”
 
“It’s just…nice, to be able to do what I want for once.”
 
As soon as he says that, Mao regrets it, but now the floodgates are open. “It’s
so frustrating,” he continues, huffing, irritably twisting to butt his head
into Keito’s hand, “to not have any freedom. Those two brothers—they’re the
worst. If one of them isn’t on my case, the other one is, and trying to catch a
break within 100 leagues of them is impossible.”
 
“I know the feeling,” Keito says with a sigh, petting Mao’s hair more, then
shifts to start rubbing Mao’s shoulders. “Take your chance, then. Explore
yourself a bit, learn some things about yourself...about what you like. While
neither of them can bother you.”
 
Finally, Mao scoots closer, grumpily setting his chin atop Keito’s knee. “It’s
not good, to think about your bonded like they bother you,” he mutters. “And I
don’t. It’s just—why is he allowed to bed whoever he likes and I’m supposed to
sit pretty and do nothing? Especially when it’s people I dislike. Honestly, he
acts like his brother far more than he’d like to admit…”
 
“They’re both like that,” Keito agrees, on something that’s very nearly a
growl. “Because if they want it, it’s necessary, but if you want it, it’s an
inconvenience. Or it’s quaint that you think your desires matter. Oh, they
won’t say it, but they’re thinking it, and they’re acting like it.”
 
“They don’t act like that with their favorites.” The retort is a sour one.
“Which you’d think would be me, but oh, no, see, his favorite is Se—the
Northern snake. At least our boss picks favorites based on affection, not how
they taste. Or I think he does, maybe.”
 
“No, he picks them based on whim and on how useful they are to him.” The words
aren’t particularly charitable, but Keito isn’t feeling particularly
charitable. “He was my lover for over a decade, and the second he figured out
how to dampen his bond? Running off to the North to sow more wild seeds, of
course. And I haven’t even told you about his little island pets that he used
to gather, the sycophants.”
 
“You didn’t tell me, but it’s not like I didn’t know about them,” Mao glumly
says. “He ran off to High Harbor after realizing he was truly bonded and
couldn’t touch anyone. Cried for a week. Right on the floor. Wouldn’t get up,
it was pathetic.”
 
“The more we talk, the more I’m really enjoying this break from them.” Keito
rubs in firm little circles at the base of Mao’s neck, then into his shoulders.
“At least he’s good in bed.”
 
“He might as well be, if he’s a sex wizard,” Mao crossly says, though it sounds
less annoyed when Keito’s fingers keep kneading into him. He slumps against
Keito’s knee a bit more, winding his arms around his leg. “He’s too big,
though,” he mutters off-handedly, eyes lidding. “There’s nothing good about
that.”
 
I knew it.
 
Keito’s lips press together, but he doesn’t pause in his massage. “I noticed,
but I never let him use it on me. Not my style.” Still, it’s hard not to
picture the two of them--perhaps Mao on Rei’s lap, back arched, hair loose and
falling around his face, Rei stretching that tight hole with his huge cock, Mao
drooling and panting at the fullness--
 
Get it together, he orders himself sternly, hoping Mao keeps his eyes away from
his lap.
 
“…I only let him once. I was the test—well, one of them—to see if muffling his
bond had really worked. Ri…my lover that refuses to behave himself, he
suggested it,” Mao huffs, shutting his eyes. “More than five minutes not being
their plaything, maybe that’s why it’s not so bad down here…”
 
“You’re wasted as a plaything.”
 
Keito pauses when that sentence escapes, a little embarrassed. Finally, he
resumes kneading, and tries to explain. “I mean. There’s so much to you. You’re
so...you know. Clever, and brave, and funny, and insightful. I--don’t look at
me, I didn’t mean to say any of that.”
 
“You’re really being sweet, sir.” Mao’s fingers curl slowly around Keito’s
ankle as he leans further into him, his eyes still shut. “I’m sure my lover
thinks those things about me. It’s just…being a human, even if I’m enhanced,
it’s hard to feel part of his world sometimes. I bet it was the same with our
boss and you, huh.”
 
“Oh, daily.” Keito’s fingers move down, rubbing along Mao’s shoulderblades,
seeking out knots. “I tried doing this for him, once. He always complains about
being stiff and achy, you know. But he doesn’t get knots in his muscles. He
doesn’t pull them when he strains too hard. Everything is just...where it
should be, all the time, under their skin, as long as they’re well-fed.”
 
“Half-bloods are weird,” comes Mao’s gurgle of a response when Keito’s fingers
press in harder. “Half-blood wizards are worse. So why is our boss’s lover the
absolute worst when he’s just human.”
 
Keito snorts. “He’s got too much power for someone with a human brain. That, or
he’s just crazy. He thinks I’m a hack, you know. I know this, because he told
me to my face multiple times.” He purses his lips. “And my ladies do not have
lopsided tits.”
 
“When’s he ever seen a tit, anyway?” Mao grumbles, rubbing his cheek slowly
against Keito’s knee without really realizing he’s doing it. “Not under my
watch. He was awful to work with. R—our boss, he appointed me not only to watch
over his brother, but to more or less be his bonded’s manslave whenever
convenient. I think it still applies, but who knows. He certainly treats me
like that’s the case.”
 
“Typical. Ass. You know, I went to see him. I shot him. He deserved it, for
putting us in that...situation.”
 
“You shot him?” Mao perks up at that, cracking an eye open. “Did you make him
bleed?”
 
“Not enough.” Keito cracks a smile, and digs his thumbs into a huge knot at the
base of Mao’s spine. “I took him to task for setting us up for meeting in this
place.”
 
Mao bites down on a groan, and the sound escapes as a weak little squeak
instead. “Let me guess,” he gasps. “Not his fault, he didn’t mean to.”
 
“More like he didn’t care.” Keito’s mouth goes suddenly dry at the noise Mao is
making, and he shifts slightly, pressing his thighs together. “And, you know,
has no concept of what it would mean to raise someone since they were five.
Ahh, you certainly are tense...”
 
“I’m always like this, s-sorry.” Mao hesitates, then lifts his head a bit,
daring a glance up at Keito. “If it…makes you feel any better, I don’t think it
was your fault? Um, or that it was that weird…it’s not like you’re my actual
father, though even if you were, I bet our boss still wouldn’t get it.”
 
“You’re probably right.” Keito rubs in silence for a moment, then says softly,
“I hope it isn’t weird for you. I never saw you as a son, just a protege, or an
apprentice.”
 
“You’re not my father, and I never thought of you that way.” Mao’s expression
turns wry. “I already betrayed my real father, you know? So thinking of you
that way…I’d be doing it twice, no thanks. You’re my teacher, kinda my boss, in
a good way. It’s not weird.”
 
Keito frowns suddenly down. “Doing it twice? I’m the one that has something to
atone for, of the two of us.”
 
“Uhhh…not to play the ‘who betrayed who more’ game, but I think I win.”
 
“I didn’t see it that way. If anything...”
 
This is a chance, Keito’s mind points out, quite rightly, and Keito can’t bring
himself to throw it away. “Well, then. Bygones? I’m quite willing if you are.”
 
“Bygones,” Mao firmly agrees, and gives Keito another bat of his eyelashes.
“Besides, I got a cool scar out of it.”
 
“Oh?” Keito’s mouth crooks up at the corner. “Now that I don’t feel guilty, you
should show it to me.”
 
Mao hesitates, then leans back, untying the front of his robe, because why the
hell not at this point. “It’s not like it’s huge or anything,” he murmurs,
shrugging down the thin fabric. “Sena took care of most of that, but magic
still scars deeper than anything else, heh.” The darker slash across his heart
obviously used to be much deeper and redder, but now, it’s just a shade darker
than his skin, jagged at the edges, running almost from his collarbone to
nipple.
 
Keito slides out of his chair, kneeling in front of Mao. His focus is tuned,
absolute, as if nothing else matters in the world. His fingers reach out
slightly, brushing the edges of the scar, feeling the smallest pucker against
his skin. “It’s--” His voice comes out a little choked, and he clears his
throat, tips of his ears pink. “It’s very dashing. I’ll update my sketchbooks.”
 
Mao’s cheeks flush, and he glances down, following the path of Keito’s fingers.
“Dashing, huh?” he murmurs with a little laugh. “Not something I’ve heard
before, but…I…I’m glad you think so, sir. Honestly, all I’m good for is
skulking about, not the most dashing profession, so…”
 
“You’re hardly skulking now,” Keito murmurs. His fingers finish tracing the
scar, but linger on Mao’s chest, close enough to feel his heartbeat, his own
racing far faster. “You’re draped in silks and entertaining the world’s worst
perverts, and having what sounds like a rather enjoyable time. What do they do
to you that you like so much?” Stop it, he orders himself, but reasonable
decisions feel so far away.
 
“Who said I enjoyed any of it?” Mao huffs, but he doesn’t deny it further than
that, even as he shifts restlessly, his fingers drumming against his knees.
“I…I don’t know. It’s not like I dislike sex or anything in the first place,
but…it’s…I guess it’s that I don’t have to c-chase it down, or constantly be an
afterthought…”
 
“Best enjoy it now,” Keito suggests. He’s being disgusting, he knows, but can’t
seem to stop. “You’re bonded, so when this is over, those opportunities won’t
be so easy...so if there are things you want to try...you’d best make use of
your clients.”
 
“You say that like I’m allowed to dictate any of it,” Mao points out with a
little laugh, shrugging. “Which is fine, I don’t dislike that. Just, ah…it’s
not like I hate being the kind of person someone would pay money for, so I
think I’m getting something good out of this already.”
 
Keito licks dry lips, trying to find dry humor over the thud of his blood in
his ear. “You’re as lovely as any of the others I’ve interviewed,” he says
honestly. “And far more...hmm...appealing. So if there’s anything you’d
like...”
 
His hand moves, reaching up to cup Mao’s cheek, and his heart flutters. “You
should ask.”
 
Mao’s own pulse thuds in his ears. You’re drunk, he wants to say, except Keito
isn’t. There’s not even that much opium in the air to blame this on today. He
swallows, and against better judgement, he tips his head forward, rubbing into
the touch of Keito’s hand. “It’s not like I need anything in particular,” he
quietly says, his cheeks hot. “I’m not…I’m not picky.”
 
Even the smallest touch of want is enough to steal Keito’s breath. Damn him,
Rei is right, he’s wanted this for nearly a decade, as much as it makes him
sick with himself. He lets his hand shift, just a touch, so the pad of his
thumb ghosts over Mao’s bottom lip. “Just because you’re easy to please,” he
says softly, eyes locked on the curve of Mao’s mouth, “doesn’t mean someone
shouldn’t be delighted to work to satisfy you.”
 
Mao’s tongue flicks out before he can stop himself, the tip of it wetting
Keito’s thumb. He sucks in a shaky breath, his eyes downcast. The way his heart
beats isn’t helpful, and he’s fairly certain even Keito can hear the way it
tries to thud through his chest. “S…sir, really, you don’t…have to do anything,
I…”
 
Keito’s cock had calmed down a bit since Mao had first started drooling on his
lap, but that soft panting isn’t helping, and he shifts forward, eyes dark,
hungry for something he wants so badly, even if he can’t have it. “Tell me what
you like,” he urges, letting his other hand move up to cup Mao’s face, leaning
in close. “Tell me what would make you scream.”
 
“I—I’m not—really that noisy?” Mao stammers, but he doesn’t pull back in the
slightest, trembling where he kneels, overwhelmed by exactly how…pushy Keito
actually is about this sort of thing. Maybe pushy isn’t the word, but it makes
his own cock twitch, and his face burns. “Whatever you like, that’s…that’s what
I like, honestly…”
 
“So self-sacrificing.” A smile plays on Keito’s mouth, and he’s drawn in,
stopping himself just short of actually kissing Mao. That’s not for him. He
can’t buy or demand that.
 
“Maybe that’s really the truth, though,” he murmurs, letting his hand drop,
trailing down Mao’s chest to rest on his upper thigh. “Maybe making old men
lose their inhibitions makes you hard, hmm? Let me feel.”
 
Mao’s breath hiccups again, and his knees shift further apart on the floor
before he can think. His cock aches, and there’s no hiding that, not when
Keito’s fingers feel like they’re going to burn through thin cloth and into his
skin. “S-sir, I…” He tentatively reaches out, grabbing for Keito’s shoulders to
steady himself. “When you say things like that…I don’t know how anyone wouldn’t
be hard…”
 
“The only people who would be hard to hear something like that,” Keito teases,
rubbing his thumb over Mao’s lips, then letting it slip inside, “are the ones
that are meant to be in houses of pleasure like this. Like you, boy.”
 
He stands, hefting Mao to his feet, and takes him by the waist, urging him onto
the bed. “So show me why you belong here.”
 
The response takes Mao off-guard, and he struggles for words for a moment, his
tongue tripping over itself as he flops back onto the bed. “Sir, you really are
a pervert,” he mutters, though he sounds far from annoyed about. He reaches
out, grabbing the front of Keito’s clothes, yanking him after him. “When you
call me things like that, I…I like it.”
 
“Fine, I’m a pervert.” Keito lets Mao undress him, and turns his own hands to
Mao’s robe, sliding underneath to rub and pinch his nipples. “You should let
them pierce these, like a real Sandlands whore. It’s the only way you’ll fit in
better, don’t you think?”
 
Mao bites down on a squeak, flinching back reflexively when his nipples harden
underneath Keito’s touch. His breath hitches in his throat as he falls back,
another, firm tug pulling Keito on top of him as his thighs splay
automatically. “Do you…really think that would suit me? I’m not exactly the
best at this…”
 
“That virginal aspect is quite endearing,” Keito murmurs, reaching down to palm
Mao through what fabric there is, feeling his breath quicken. “Though
unconvincing. You’re better at this than--”
 
The door slams suddenly open, startlingly loud in the soft evening air. Keito
springs to cover himself, throwing himself between the Madam and Mao--
 
But it isn’t the Madam. Instead, it’s four men and one woman, all of them with
scarves tied around their noses and mouths. Far too late, Keito fumbles for his
bag, hoping to find one of his knives at least, but the slavers (it must be
them, who else could it be?) are fast, and prepared. One of them gives an order
in Sandtongue, and then they’re on him, two binding his arms, one clapping a
sweet-smelling cloth over his mouth and nose. He struggles, but only manages to
get turned around to face Mao. The last thing he sees before passing out is
Mao’s face, eyes filled with regret, nervousness....
 
...and not the slightest hint of surprise.
***** Chapter 26 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
“Izumi,” Arashi says through his teeth, “owes us a fucking massage.”
 
His legs are cramping, sweat beading down the back of his neck even in the
brisk cold of the North. His boots may be excellent, but good boots can only do
so much with this much walking, and his feet are starting to ache at the top of
this most recent mountain.
 
Of course, part of it might be due to the fact that he’s carrying Mika on his
back, giving his feet a rest. Mika’s boots, he’d discovered, are made for
frilly form rather than function, and Arashi privately wants to kill whatever
cobbler had turned out those monstrosities, usually hidden by Mika’s robes. The
column of his honor guard rides behind them on the road, and Arashi mutters,
“Remind me what I’m billing his family for. The medicine for both scouts that
fell sick in this stupid altitude, a new pair of boots for you, a new saddle
for my poor horse, new shoes for half the horses with us, seriously, what do
they pave these roads with? A nice present for you, for that thorn in your
foot, more for all the damn time I’m taking out of my very busy life...I think
that’s, what, about a dozen Northern horses? At least? Because fuck him, is it
so hard to come home when you say you will?”
 
Inconveniences and soreness aside, it would be a lie to say Mika isn’t enjoying
the ride.
 
He feels guilty about that, but only to a degree. Arashi’s back is warm and
solid, and being able to feel every single ripple of his muscles as he walks is
very desirable. Mika tries to behave, at least, and not bury his face into
Arashi’s neck for a nibble or two, and instead, flops there still and obedient,
his fingers loosely hooked into the front laces of Arashi’s shirt. “Probably
the king’s fault,” Mika says without batting an eye. “He’s always got Izumin
doin’ stupid things. Nnn, I don’t want a horse, though, they’re scared of me
and the Northern ones are definitely too big.” 
 
“Just think of it this way,” Arashi says cheerfully, trying to distract Mika
before he gets gloomy. “You’re saving a lot of scouts’ lives. Every time I’ve
traveled with this many men without you, we’ve lost at least a tenth of them to
animal attacks. You’re saving lives, darling.”
 
The gloominess is already setting in. “But I wanna pet stuff. Like cats. Or
snogs. Why are these mountains so big, anyway,” Mika transitions with a huff.
“And why’s it so cold. The Shorps ain’t this cold. Every time I gotta come
North, it’s the worst unless there’s a warmin’ stone, why couldn’t I just stay
with his kids, why’s his mom so…”
 
“It’s summer, darling, it’s not that cold. Isn’t this better than it was in
winter?” Arashi huffs a little, but not at the ‘strain’ of carrying Mika’s
small frame, more at the annoyance of having to pick his way around little
stones, and the scuffs on his lovely boots. “Ahh, I think that’s the valley we
heard about, over there! Let’s...”
 
He pauses, brows drawing together. “Wait, say that again. Where am I from?”
 
Mika’s lips quirk unseen. “Eh? Out west, y’mean?”
 
“Yeah. The mountains. I thought you said...”
 
“The Shorps? Yeah, that’s where you’re from, I know.”
 
“...Sharps.”
 
“Yeah. Shorps.”
 
“Ah....amaka, you’re saying it wrong. It’s Sharps. Like, something you--like
one of your Master’s needles, it’s sharp, right?”
 
Mika tilts his head back, gazing up at the too-wide, too-blue sky with a slow
bat of his eyelashes. “Yeah, I know. I got it, it’s the Shorps. Because they’re
sharp.”
 
“Are you doing this on purpose? Or are you really not hearing it?”
 
“Kara, I think you’re hearin’ things. Maybe the mountains are makin’ your ears
go all poppy.”
 
Arashi shakes his head. “Maybe I am. Ugh, let’s go find this stupid snake. This
is all his fault, anyway.”
 
“It’s always his fault,” Mika murmurs, hugging Arashi’s neck as he settles
himself down, trying not to shiver when Arashi insists it’s quite temperate
out.
 
The further up the pass they go, however, the chillier is. Another half hour,
and they finally arrive upon what looks to be a village, and Mika vaguely
recognizes it from what feels like ages ago. Arashi’s army had set up here the
very first time Izumi had steered them North, before the world had more or less
imploded around them, when Leo was still a prince and Izumi still a page. But
they aren’t stopping here this time—it’s summer, which means the main pass is
clear to Sena proper, not some little off-shoot town that definitely looks
decorated for nobles from the Capital to come and tour on horseback.
 
It’s narrow. Scarily so, actually, and Mika clings to Arashi all the more for
it. It’s not like he’s scared of small places or heights or anything, but no
army could make it through here even two by two, which he supposes is the
point. Even if it’s summer, ice and snow still clings to the sides of
mountains, and he huddles underneath his cloak, grumpily pulling his hood up
and over his head to further hide. “It feels like we’re burrowin’ into the dang
mountain,” he says. “Can we not?”
 
No sooner does he say that than does the pass abruptly end, and immediately
open up into a wide-open view of the too-green valley beyond. The mountains
stand out as a backdrop beyond it, huge and purple and white-topped, and the
sprawling city—well, it’s not as big as the Capital, not by a longshot, but
maybe that’s because it’s so large, speckling the slopes instead of being
concentrated into one enormous lump. Against one of the hills further away sits
what Mika can guess is the actual Sena estate, grey-stoned and with its flag
whipping in the brisk wind. “Pretty,” he quietly says, but quickly shuts his
eyes against the glare of light (and life) that reflects back at him from
looking at the cityscape for too long. That many people in one place never
feels good.
 
“The letters we’ve gotten say that he’s in the estate itself,” Arashi says,
surveying the valley. “Ah, this is kind of fun, isn’t it? Like we’re intrepid
explorers, on the hunt for meat for the winter or something. Without spears, of
course, my hands are far too delicate and lovely to make callouses on them from
brutish wood. My elegant sword is enough for me.”
 
He sets off down the mountain path, toting Mika closer towards the Sena estate.
“It’s pretty, don’t you think? Kind of quaint.”
 
“Everything’s too big,” Mika says, cracking his eyes open again. It’s fine if
he doesn’t stare directly into the city, maybe. “And really…heh. Okay, you know
those kids’ books that talk about what the ‘country’ looks like? We~ll…”
 
“I know, I keep expecting milkmaids,” Arashi says with a giggle. He hoists Mika
up on his back, and breaks into a light jog. “I’m not jouncing you too much, am
I? This road is so long, I just want to be there already...”
 
“Nope, kara’s got a real smooth run, like a fancy horse,” Mika hums, clinging
firmly to Arashi’s shoulders. “How does Izumin act soo much like a capital boy
when he’s from a place like this, huh? Whoa, look at that cow.”
 
“He fakes it pretty--holy hell!”
 
Arashi nearly drops Mika, ducking sideways and skidding on one knee, eyes huge
as he takes in--
 
“That is not a cow,” he insists, eyes the size of saucers, standing up and
edging carefully away. “That is a cow that ate nine cows and chewed up their
bones, that’s the size of a house!”
 
“I wanna touch it,” Mika insists, stretching out one hand and entirely unfazed
by Arashi’s theatrics. “She looks fluffy. Kara, get closer, she looks so
fluffy, what if she’s all fluff and that’s what makes her so big? What then?”
 
“What if it’s a car, a carni, a meat-eater thing?” Arashi asks, scandalized.
 
“Then she’s like you,” Mika dismissively says, making a grabbing motion.
“C’mon, lemme touch her.”
 
The wind shifts, and the cow’s nostrils flare. Its placid eyes open wide, then
slowly close. A ropelike tail twitches, and the beast turns around, lumbering
away up the hill.
 
Arashi relaxes, breathing deep. “Gods, I thought we were dead. Guess it doesn’t
like the smell of Western girls, eh?”
 
“Y’know, for a great warrior, kara’s awfully scared of fluffy cows,” Mika sadly
says, his hand flopping down again. I know, I know, I smell scary, sorry.“I bet
Izumin would let me pet the cow.”
 
“It’s way too big to be a cow,” Arashi insists. “What if everything else is big
here? What if their ducks are the size of horses? Why’s Izumi so small?”
 
“Easier to throw,” Mika says. “More fun that way. Their horses are real big
too, but I bet the ducks are proportional. Uh, I mean…biggish, too.” He pauses,
lifts his head, and his eyes refocus as he peers up the road. “Izumin.”
 
Ahead, around the bending road, Izumi—obviously having gotten word of Arashi’s
impending arrival and having ridden out to meet him—finds himself stopped by a
farmer that has decided to rant about how the sizes of his cows this year are
actually too small. Vale, unimpressed, tries to take a hunk out of said farmer
until Izumi dismounts, leading the horse firmly away as he tries for somewhere
between polite and I’m in a hurry, stop existing. “Doubt it’s anything more
than a coincidence—maybe the harsher winter we had? Who knows,” he tries. Why
couldn’t I just stay in the Capital?
 
“But M’lord Izumi, Ol’ Gerron says fer sure that his cows is runnin on twice
the soize o’ last year,” the farmer insists, stamping a workboot-clad foot.
“It’s these grass, they never seeded ‘em proupor affer them soldiers rode boy!”
 
Arashi quickens his steps, then slows them, mouth parting as he hears the
accent come so thick out of the farmer’s mouth that he can’t even discern half
the words. “You hear that?” he whispers to Mika. “Look at Izumi, he looks so
cute and squishy!”
 
“I never thought about it too much, but I guess he is real little compared to
other Northerners, look at him,” Mika whispers, his eyes wide as he clings to
Arashi’s neck. “Izumin’s cuuute, what do we do?”
 
Izumi bites down on a sigh, and doesn’t bother stopping Vale when his head goes
down, his nose immediately stuffed into tall, thick grass with loud crunching
sounds following. “I’ll see that it’s all looked at, then—give it aboat a week
or two, I only just got in from the capital, y’know.”
 
Mika’s tongue slowly pokes out. “Listennnn…to…hiiim,” he breathes, gripping
Arashi’s shoulders tightly.
 
“Aboat,” Arashi whispers, looking as if he’s been blessed by the gods
themselves. “Aboat, Mika--am I saying it like he is? I feel like the gods are
being really nice to me right now...”
 
“Shore, shore, an I know,” the farmer says with a nod, reaching out to clap
Izumi powerfully on the shoulder. “Milord is a roit good lad, a roit good un.
Give yer sainted ma a flutter from me, aye?”
 
“What are they saaaayin’?” Mika whispers frantically, struggling not to
simultaneously burst into giggles and tears. “Kara—kara, help, they definitely
don’t show this kinda thing to nobles just passin’ through, I didn’t knoooow…”
 
“Shore, you betcha,” Izumi reassures him, digging his heels in to make sure he
doesn’t sway underneath the clap to his shoulder. “C’mon, Vale, we’re going,
you’ve already eaten aboat your own weight today.”
 
“Aboat,” Mika echoes desperately, slinking down Arashi’s back a bit. “Help.”
 
By the time Izumi actually turns towards them, Arashi and Mika are collapsed on
the roadside, clutching each other and giggling helplessly. “I-Izumi,” Arashi
gasps, unable even to kneel. “H-h-hi....”
 
Izumi stares down at them, his brow slowly furrowing. “What’s gotten into the
two of you?” he flatly asks. “The altitude’s not that much worse here in Sena,
you’ve been oot in Sudbury before…”
 
Mika whimpers, burying his face into Arashi’s shoulder as he shakes from trying
to restrain his laughter. “It’s still there, if you listen,” he gasps. “It
won’t stoooop.”
 
Izumi’s stare continues before sliding over to Arashi. “Did you two smoke
something? My mama will kill you if that’s the case. Anyway, get up, it’s
aboat—“ Pause. Recalibrate. “About a ten minute walk still to the estate.”
 
“Aboat!!! Aboat!! There it is again--now say ‘shore you betcha!’” Arashi
collapses again, shoulders quivering, tears streaming from his eyes.
 
“Never mind. Stay here on the road and die.”
 
“No, no!” Arashi gasps for breath, doubled over as he tries to get up, feet
slipping on the road. “I’m sorry, we’re sorry, right, amaka? It’s--it was a
surprise--you look pretty, come back!”
 
Izumi yanks Vale’s head up, turning him around as he starts to climb up into
the saddle. “Nope, stay out here and get eaten by a cow.”
 
Mika freezes, his eyes enormous as he stops laughing immediately. “Do they
really eat people?” he breathes, staring up at Izumi with flushed, tear-
streaked cheeks, obviously fascinated by the idea. “That’s so creepy.”
 
Izumi pauses, staring at them both a moment longer before he sighs, stepping
away from his horse again. “You’re so weird,” he mutters, doing his damnedest
to not sound fond and failing. “What the hell, you two. You didn’t have to come
all the way out here.”
 
Arashi wipes his eyes, scrambling off of the road, face undeniably full of
affection. “Izumi, darling, we missed you. You were supposed to be back months
ago, I was about to throw myself off a roof waiting for you. And if a cow eats
me, I’ll haunt you forever, they’re really scary!”
 
“They’re not going to eat you, they’re cows, for gods’ sake,” Izumi
exasperatedly says, looking aside with as much grumpiness as he can muster.
Mika picks himself up as well, not bothering to straighten his cloak or hair,
and Vale lifts his head, giving him a hesitant sniff before begrudgingly
behaving himself and letting himself be petted when Mika extends his hand. “Is
it just the two of you? Or did you bring your guard? If you came through the
Stratham Pass, they’ll be behind by an hour, at least.”
 
“You’re good at hidin’ that accent of yours,” Mika absently observes, stroking
Vale’s nose. “Izumin must really wanna fit in at the capital…”
 
“Shut your mouth. Arashi, don’t look at me like that, you’re gross.”
 
“They’re behind on the pass,” Arashi confirms, at least trying to behave. He
gives Vale’s mane a pat, then grabs Izumi in a huge hug, lifting him off the
ground. “Ahhh, you bastard, I missed you so much!”
 
A protest is right on the tip of Izumi’s tongue, but Arashi, unfortunately, is
Arashi. That means warm and solid and somehow nice-smelling even after a long
day of travel, and Izumi relaxes with a long exhale. He tosses his arms around
Arashi’s neck, giving him a solid squeeze as he dangles off the ground. “You’re
the worst,” he accuses, voice muffled as he stuffs his face into Arashi’s neck.
“I missed you, too. Sorry, I know I meant to meet you so much earlier, but my
mother…”
 
“You’re the worst, we thought you’d been eaten by a giant cow,” Arashi says
with a sniff, rubbing his nose on Izumi’s shoulder before setting him down.
“And hug Mika too, you took his babies!”
 
Izumi scowls, grabbing up Mika by the waist, dragging a squeal from his throat.
“Your babies are fucking terrors,” he growls, squeezing Mika hard before
tossing him up onto Vale’s back without even a grunt of effort. “And now they
chatter in Sandtongue whenever they don’t want anyone to know what they’re
saying.”
 
Mika sits up in the saddle, eyes bright. “Really?” he excitedly asks. “Ahh,
that’s so cute!”
 
“Yeah, sure it is. Except now everyone thinks I’ve got a Southern mistress,”
Izumi mutters, grabbing Vale’s reins and turning him around on the road. He
hesitates, only for a second, before grabbing Arashi’s hand to tug him along.
“Which I guess covers up where they came from, but now my mother’s on my case
because I said they were of noble birth, but are they really…”
 
“Well, you’re a noble, aren’t you?” Arashi points out. “And your father, um,
well...I assume he wasn’t...ah, do we talk about this, or no? Do they talk
about it at your estate?”
 
He slips an arm around Izumi’s waist, tugging him close. “I hope you have
people ready to rub my feet with sweet oils, I’ve walked far.”
 
“I’ll rub your feet, bastard,” Izumi grumbles, tugging Vale’s head up away from
the grass once more and leaning into Arashi as they walk. “Obviously I’m a
noble, but my mother was very much hoping for legitimate, normal
grandchildren.”
 
“Too much to ask,” Mika hums, flopping down over Vale’s neck, pleased to be not
walking even now.
 
“Apparently. As for my father…it’s a well-known legend, at this point. My
mother’s considered blessed, whether or not they actually buy into who and what
my father is. Ah, legend’s too lofty a word, it’s folklore, more like.”
 
“Just say your children are blessed, too?” Arashi ventures. “They’re smart and
beautiful just like their father, you think those big lunky farmers out there
won’t believe you? For, ah, shore?”
 
Izumi jabs his elbow directly into Arashi’s ribs. “Keep at it. I dare you. I’ll
break your feet instead of rubbing them.”
 
“Nooooo, be nice to me, we rode for three weeks to see you and you’re so mean!”
Arashi flutters his eyelashes, even as his heavy boots clunk on the ground.
“Honestly, it’s not like you’re actually moving back up here, what do they
care?”
 
Izumi hesitates at that, sparing a quick glance back at Mika before he lowers
his voice. “I might not be moving back up here, but my mother’s pretty
insistent about keeping the kids up here. Let’s not talk about it right now,
it’ll upset him unless he wants to be a Northerner once and for all.”
 
Arashi’s eyes go wide, but he keeps his mouth shut, nodding slightly in
understanding. “The king sends his regards, by the way,” he adds pointedly, so
that Mika can hear. “You didn’t even ask, what kind of a loyal Captain of the
Kingsguard are you?”
 
“The kind of Captain that gets a letter every other day,” Izumi deadpans,
though it’s impossible for him to hide the affection in his voice. “The sooner
I can get back to the capital, the better. I’m losing my mind up here, not that
I’m allowed to complain…”
 
The road quickly shifts more polished and trimmed down at the edges, though
still made of dirt and framed with little but the valley’s grass. One last
turn, and the estate pops out just behind the speckling of trees—tall and made
of washed grey stone, but certainly modest, when compared to any noble’s
household in the capital. “Here we are. If you’d sent me any warning at all,
I’d have a room for you already prepared, but—“
 
“Don’t be dumb, we’re stayin’ in yours,” Mika sniffs, though he starts when a
servant boy scurries up, dirt-smudged hands reaching for Vale’s reins.
 
“Allow me, Milord—Milady, let me help y’down—“
 
Mika pauses at that, and Izumi bites the inside of his cheek as he flits
between vaguely annoyed, and vaguely amused. He settles on the latter. “Don’t
offer a lady your hand when you’ve been working in the stables all day,” he
scolds, and extends his own to Mika instead, who takes it, eyebrows raising as
he slides off of Vale’s back, caught half-way down by Izumi’s sure grasp.
“Honestly…”
 
Arashi pouts a little. No one is offering him a hand and calling him Milady.
The wind shifts, and the smells bring him memory--the last time they’d been
here in the North, he and Mika hadn’t even been able to touch. It was up here
on a warming stone that he’d given in to temptation. Warmth blooms in his chest
when he looks at Mika, effortlessly flirting, teasing Izumi, who teases him
right back. I love them both so much, he thinks to himself, giving instructions
to the stablehands for when his men arrive. “Darlings, wait for me! And feed
us, we’re starving!”
 
“Kara wants to eat one of your big cows,” Mika whispers, latching firmly to
Izumi’s arm and huddling against his side. If he’s going to get mistaken as a
woman, then he’s at least going to make use of that…though he supposes this is
the North, and they care far less up here about that sort of thing… “He’s
scared of ‘em, but that jus’ makes him hungrier.”
 
“Uh huh,” Izumi exhales, rolling his eyes. “And you? What do you want?”
 
“Sweets. So many.”
 
“Don’t say that in front of my mother.”
 
“Don’t say what in front of your mother?”
 
The voice booms out of every hallway, and Sena Maya stands in the doorway, hand
on hip, one eyebrow quirked. “Ah, there they are! You didn’t tell me you were
having guests, is this the kind of hospitality you want to show?”
 
“I never noticed the accent before,” Arashi whispers to Mika, “but now I can’t
un-hear it.”
 
Izumi grimaces, tightening his arm around Mika’s waist—for all the good it does
when Mika skitters back behind him and Arashi alike. “Mama,” Izumi greets on a
sigh, releasing Mika to let him better retreat. “You remember Captain Arashi,
don’t you? This is a surprise visit, I’ll handle it.”
 
“How can you be handling it?” Maya asks, scandalized. “You aren’t even taking
them in through the kitchen! I’ll make them a salad.” Before Izumi can respond,
she stalks into the kitchen, purpose in her step.
 
“Eh, salad?” Arashi brightens. “That’s better than I expected up here.”
 
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Izumi mutters. “Trust me. Come with me down
the hall, I’ll get you settled in my room, and once your guard heads up here,
I’ll have your bags brought in. Sorry, I know it’s no capital noble’s house.
Mika, don’t shake, you remember my mother.”
 
“She’s loud today,” Mika quietly says, clutching at the back of Arashi’s coat.
 
“You were hiding last time,” Arashi reminds him. He reaches behind to tousle
Mika’s hair, then stops when eyes follow him from nearby guards. “Izumi,” he
says quietly, “do they...think that Mika is...someone important up here?”
 
“I told you,” Izumi wearily says underneath his breath, grabbing Arashi’s arm
to pull him along, and by proxy, Mika as well. “They think I have a mistress
from the Sandlands.”
 
Mika blinks at that, the full extent of that statement clicking into place. “W-
wait—they think it’s me?”
 
“Who else? My daughters call you ‘mother.’”
 
The hall is a short one, and Izumi unlocks his room with the swift turn of a
key, ushering them both inside. It’s well-lit and meticulously clean, with the
white linens of his bed the only thing vaguely askew. “You also look foreign.
That’s an anomaly up here, so it’s not like they have many people to assume
about.”
 
“Is it really just that they assume anyone from the Sandlands must be that
specific person?” Arashi asks, not sure if he should be amused or horrified.
“Seriously? You know, if any of these people were at the other place we stayed
at, down south, they might remember Mika from back then. I mean, he was always
in his wizard’s robes, but surely...”
 
Izumi spreads his hands helplessly. “Think about how in the middle of damned
nowhere we are. People here don’t have anything better to do than speculate and
gossip. Mika looks the part, my kids aren’t helping, and—“
 
Mika dives straight into Izumi’s bed, scarcely remembering to kick off his
useless boots before burrowing fully down into the sheets. “Bring me my
children,” he demands, head barely sticking out from underneath several
blankets and a few pillows “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore, this is
stupid. In the Sandlands, no one would think this is weird.”
 
“Which part?” Arashi asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve been to the Sandlands,
people talked about everything down there, but I’m pretty sure that three guys
in a relationship with two kids would have turned some heads even there, don’t
you think? Or--wait, Izumi, say it your way!”
 
“My way? What’s that supposed to mean?”
 
“Three men with two kids wood re~ally turns some heads, shore wood, aboat the
weirdest thing they’d ever see,” comes Mika’s muffled impression from where his
face is buried into a pillow, bringing Izumi’s face to flush in irritation.
 
“I don’t sound like that. I don’t!”
 
“Kara’s cock gets hard when y’do, so think about that,” Mika absently points
out, rolling onto his back. “Anyway, it ain’t the three guys with two kids
thing. It’s the fact no one would blink that I’m your ‘mistress’ or whatever.
In the Sandlands, I’m a whore, so I’m not a man or a woman and they ain’t gonna
assume and call me one or the other.”
 
“Makes some sense, when you think about it,” Arashi points out. “Why regulate
who someone with money can buy, when you never know if you’re going to come by
men or women? Ugh, the whole thing is so gross. Mika, amaka, talk to me in your
beautiful accent--Izumi, love, you can join in, tell us that you betcha or
something!”
 
Izumi’s eyes narrow, flicking down, then up again to Arashi’s face. “Does it
seriously make you hard?” he asks in disbelief. “Why are you like this?”
 
“What d’you expect, first thing he ever said to me was that my accent was
cute,” Mika hums, wriggling his toes as he watches them, then idly switches up
his own accent, because if there’s any way to fell Arashi swiftly to his knees
other than lick his ear, it’s the far more softly cultured turn that a deep
south Sandlands whore can offer up. “Kara, if you come and lie with me, I’d
thank y’kindly…”
 
A strangled whimper dies in Arashi’s throat, and he stumbles a little on his
way to the bed, as if yanked by a leash. “That’s not fair,” he moans, climbing
into the bed like an overeager puppy, pinning Mika down. “Using that against
me...totally mean....”
 
The door barges open, and the air is suddenly filled with shrieks and squeals.
Arashi can’t even think about moving off of Mika before he’s tackled, as is
Mika, though at a considerably gentler rate. “Aaaaahhhh! You’re here, you’re
here! Papa said we don’t have to stay, but it’s gettin’ to be a long time,
doncha knoow!”
 
Mika bats his eyelashes up at Arashi before wriggling his way out from
underneath him and snatching up both girls in the next instant. Elia first,
then Kinsley, just because one is a bit slower to move than the other, but both
end up smushed firmly to his chest. “You’ve both gotten so biiiig! Mama’s
missed you sooo much, you’re not allowed to grow up anymore when I’m gone!”
 
Izumi bites his cheek to forcibly keep back a smile. “If you’re able to walk,
I’ll take you to grab dinner,” he wryly says to Arashi. “Or do you need a
second to collect yourself, Captain?”
 
Arashi glares at him, drawing himself up to his full height. “I can walk just
fine, thanks. If these hellions have any orders--”
 
“Give us a minute!” Kinsley orders, already at least as imperious as her
grandmother, face buried in Mika’s hair. “Ahhh, we missed you soooooo much!
Grandmother says we have to live up here now, but she won’t even let me ride
the biggest horses, so there’s only so long I can stand that, doncha know!”
 
Arashi hides a smile behind his hand, then slips out with Izumi, leaving Mika
in the care of the little beasts.
 
“Ahh, you sound like your Papa now, not like a girl from the Capital,” Mika
hums, swiftly cocooning both girls in blankets and snuggling down with them to
make a proper cave. “We’ll have to smuggle you a biiig horse out of here if
you’re gonna go back, yeah?”
 
Izumi lets the door click shut behind them, heaving a little relieved sigh.
“Good, now he can nest and be happy,” he murmurs, raking a hand back through
his bangs. “I hope my mother didn’t put him too on edge, she means well, it’s
just been a lot lately.”
 
“He’s on edge anyway,” Arashi confides, falling easily into step next to Izumi.
It feels like old times, and he feels something in him relax immediately. “The
Capital is crazy. I’ve been running around doing what I can for the king, but
I’m only one woman, you know? So he’s been quite lonely, on top of dealing with
his Master suddenly being an important person...”
 
“Right, I guess Shu is the…what, Vice-Emperor of the Academy? Or whatever Rei
calls him, his Demon Queen?” Izumi wryly says, shaking his head. “Sorry you’ve
been having to manage Leo. There’s not much point to it, no matter how I hate
to say it. He’s as particular as the damned birds he keeps sending with his
letters, which always include transcripts from his conversations with them
nowadays. News to me that he could speak bird now, but whatever.”
 
Arashi cocks his head to the side. “I wonder if he’s telling you
everything...did he mention all the work we’ve been doing in the Capital, or on
the border? I’ve been spending quite a bit of time with him lately.”
 
Izumi’s lips purse in irritation. “No.” Don’t sound jealous, don’t sound
jealous. “Glad to know he’s got someone else that he can confide in and work
with, though. Maybe I will just stay here.”
 
“Don’t you dare.” Arashi folds his arms, moving to stand directly in front of
Izumi, jabbing a finger at his face. “If I have to hear one more word about you
from him, I’m going to be executed as a regicide, so don’t even joke about
that. He’s working himself to the bone to try and clean up the mess his damn
father left behind, so the least you can do is support him!”
 
“Said as if I haven’t been trying to do that up here! Half the North still
thinks he’s a fool, why do you think I’ve been stuck here for so long?
Convincing stubborn old men that heard a few rumors and stuck to them as well
as young men that thought they’d get a chance at fame for fighting a war is
hard.” Izumi huffs, hands on his hips as he glowers back up at Arashi. “I
wanted to leave two weeks ago. Stop pointing that in my face or I’ll bite it
off, you ass.”
 
“Two weeks?” Arashi demands, hands on hips. “I’ve been expecting you for six
months, and so has your liege lord! I’ve finally got the funds to equip my army
properly, but I can’t even lead them, because I’m too busy doing your job. And
that’s not to mention listening to our great king’s awful love poetry about
you, by the way! I need a raise.”
 
“Yes, two weeks ago, you heard me!” Izumi snaps. “I warned Leo it could be
several months considering all that I had to deal with up here, so if he didn’t
tell you about that, too bad. Believe it or not, but I was about to head south
next week, but now you’re here, my mother’s riled up, and smuggling even one of
my kids back to the Capital is going to be even more difficult. Not that I
didn’t want to see the two of you, that’s not what I’m fucking saying—just—ugh.
Forget it, just don’t mention love poetry again, I’m going to get upset. I know
you’ve been busy, but at least you’ve had Mika.”
 
Arashi grabs Izumi’s shirt by the collar, hauling him behind a stone wall and
shoving him up against it. “Why does seeing you always make me want to shove
you around?” he demands, and grabs Izumi in a kiss, teeth rasping as he drags
them down Izumi’s lip.
 
Any and all protests die on Izumi’s tongue, and he arches off the wall as if
he’s a man dying of thirst and Arashi’s mouth is the first drink he’s had in
weeks. “Because you’re merciful and good and feel sorry for me,” he groans,
grabbing handfuls of Arashi’s shirt to pull him close and keep him close.
“Fuck, you smell nice.”
 
“I’d better,” Arashi says with a laugh, grabbing Izumi’s waist and slamming him
against the wall, hoisted up and held off the ground by the press of Arashi’s
body. “I paid a fortune for long-lasting scent sprays that would even work on
the road, I’ve got extras. Nnh, does no one treat you right up here?”
 
The shake of Izumi’s head is immediate and desperate. “I’ve been here for
months and I’m gonna die,” he rasps, squeezing his thighs around Arashi’s hips.
He hooks his chin over Arashi’s shoulder, breath escaping as a shivery, ragged
thing as he clings to him. “M-maybe literally, so please…”
 
Propriety is one thing--this is just stupid on a self-preservation scale, but
Arashi still feels no compulsion to stop. He reaches down, palming Izumi
through his breeches, pressing hard sucking kisses to the side of that pale
neck. “Am I gonna get strung up if the people see me enjoying their prince
against a wall?” he murmurs, squeezing and stroking, savoring the taste of
Izumi’s skin after so long.
 
Izumi’s nails drag down Arashi’s back as he arches against him, panting open-
mouthed with every stroke to his cock. “Why do you think I can’t getany up
here?” he whines, his voice catching up in his throat for a second when Arashi
sucks on his neck hard enough to bruise. Thank the gods. “T-they all know, and
don’t wanna piss you off or offend you…” He swallows loudly, his eyes
fluttering as it feels progressively like Arashi’s got his entire soul on a
damned leash just by how he’s squeezing him. “Ahhh, fuck, fuck, if I die now,
that’s fine…”
 
“What, before I’m in you?” Arashi teases, though his voice is rough and low
with arousal as he murmurs the words in Izumi’s ear before biting it. He
reaches down, yanking at Izumi’s laces, not even bothering to properly undress
either of them. Despite his words, he wraps his hand around both of them,
pressing Izumi into the wall with his bodyweight, stroking with a sure,
practiced stroke. “We talk about you, when we fuck. Imagine what you’d be
doing.”
 
The noise that leaves Izumi is low and rasping, his fingers kneading into
Arashi’s back as he clings there, all-too-happy about being pinned and useless
underneath Arashi’s weight. Arashi’s cock is so hot and hard against his own
that it makes his eyes cross, and he feels his own drip, making Arashi’s
fingers slicker with every single stroke, which just makes him harder. Every
time he twitches, every time he throbs, it feels like a shock going up his
spine, making his nipples tingle and breath catch up in his lungs. Is this
seriously how I’m gonna be after not rubbing it on anyone for a few months?
Izumi desperately thinks, though he’s too turned on to be embarrassed. “Uh
huh,” he mindlessly pants out, stuffing his face down into Arashi’s shoulder,
his toes curling in his boots. “I’d…I’d do anything, s-so long as you two felt
good…”
 
Arashi is so much harder than he’d anticipated, grinding up against Izumi with
a breathless, urgent rock, hand moving rapidly over them both, squeezing at the
tip when he feels Izumi starting to leak and drip. “You been thinking about us
too, haven’t you?” he teases, nibbling at Izumi’s neck and ear. “I bet you
think about us every time you touch yourself--you think about us feeding you,
darling? About us forcing you onto your knees?”
 
Izumi stuffs his fist against his mouth, biting down when his voice breaks. It
would be nice to not be so on edge that he comes so fast, just from a few good
words and Arashi’s very nice hand, but that’s not happening right now, not when
he can so easily remember the taste of Arashi’s cock in his mouth, the way
Mika’s delicate fingers feel in his hair. A muffled sob escapes Izumi as he
spills with a sharp arch of his back, dripping messily over Arashi’s hand, his
legs trembling violently where they clamp around Arashi’s waist.
 
Arashi isn’t far behind, spilling against Izumi’s cock with a groan, face
buried into his neck. “That’s so good of you,” he groans, hips flexing a few
more times, milking Izumi dry with his hand. “Ahhh, I missed you so much, you
bastard...I’m going to have my hand on you until we leave, pretty sure...”
 
A low, ragged groan escapes Izumi’s throat, his breath hiccuping with every
lingering stroke of Arashi’s hand. His cock gives another, over-eager twitch,
and Izumi shudders hard, his fingers digging hard into Arashi’s back. “D-don’t
leave me, don’t,” he whines, rubbing his flushed face into Arashi’s shoulder.
“I’ll die. Ahhh, fuck…you’re so good, so good,” he breathes, turning his head
to mouth a kiss to Arashi’s neck, then up to his ear, then swiftly to his mouth
where his tongue immediately tries to go for a taste. “You can do anything you
want to me.”
 
Arashi pulls his hand away, shoving the first couple of fingers in Izumi’s
mouth. “Suck them clean,” he orders, unnecessarily when Izumi is already so
eager, so enthusiastic. “Then put your pants back on, I’ll have you again when
we’re in privacy and I can get in you.”
 
Izumi exhales a frustrated little noise, but he’s temporarily mollified by his
task and the promise offered up. He noisily sucks Arashi’s fingers clean,
tongue laving over them to thoroughly lick over every bit and make sure they’re
clean. When he pulls back, it’s with a last flick of his tongue, and he shifts,
leaning back against the wall to lower his legs. “Sure you don’t want me to
lick everything clean?” he breathes, gingerly settling his weight onto his own
feet again.  “‘Cause I—ow, ow, cramp.”
 
Arashi laughs, tugging up his breeches and fastening them off. “Stretch it out.
And you owe me a foot rub, don’t forget. Nnh, I want that salad, your mom
promised me a salad.”
 
“It’s not a salad, not like you’re thinking,” Izumi groans, sagging back
against the wall for a moment as he yanks up and ties his own clothes before
pulling his leg up to gingerly work out the cramp in his calf. “But she’ll be
furious if you don’t eat it anyway, so you’re screwed. Sorry about her in
advance, by the way, she’s been in a mood.”
 
“Why, what did you do?” Arashi asks, before reaching over and cupping Izumi’s
face. “Also, what the hell is a salad that isn’t a salad?”
 
“Layers and layers of beans and soupy things and sour candies and a sprig of
basil on top,” Izumi deadpans, flopping against the wall again with a sigh. He
reaches up, curling his fingers against the back of Arashi’s hand as he turns
his head to press a kiss to his palm. “I want to take Kinsley back to the
capital with me, when I go,” he says. “She’s furious, won’t listen to me when I
try to explain that she’ll rot up here if she’s forced to be a Northern
lady—which of course just pissed Mama off in twenty directions, and…basically,
summed up, according to her, I’m abandoning my people by being at the king’s
side. I don’t know what she thought would happen when I went off to be a
knight, but…”
 
Arashi’s heart flutters nervously. “You’re not actually thinking of staying up
here, are you? Kinsley’s not the only one who’d rot up here. I know you’re the
heir, but...” He shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I
can’t talk, I just hate the idea of you settling so far away.”
 
“Gods, no,” Izumi mutters. “I’ll go fucking insane. For a couple of
reasons—ugh, don’t laugh at me, but one of the main reasons…” He heaves a sigh,
looking aside, open and honestly annoyed by what he’s about to say. “There’s
literally no one that’ll fuck me here. It’s a status thing, to the point they
won’t even touch it. It makes me feel like I want to rip my skin off, sometimes
I can’t even sleep.”
 
“Can’t you just, I don’t know, ride out of the Sena estates proper?” Arashi
asks, incredulous. “Put on a hat and pretend to be some random farmer that is
going to die if he doesn’t suck someone off?”
 
“I know you haven’t seen much of the North, but…this is basically it. Everyone
knows who I am. I could get away with it a bit more when I was younger and came
back up from the capital during the summer, but even then, it was still girls
only.” Izumi wipes a hand down his face, starting to stress and fidget just
thinking about the past few months all over again. “I’m gonna go insane. I know
I sound like I’m already insane.”
 
“You sound,” Arashi says frankly, “like you need a dick up your ass before you
lose your mind. Fortunately, we can take care of that, and then you can feel
like a human again, yeah? Have you been crawling back to girls?”
 
“No, fuck, no.” Izumi chews at his lower lip. “I tried,” he begrudgingly
admits. “But I…I’ve sort of got a mental block on it now. I don’t want to talk
about it, let’s get you something to eat that isn’t one of my mother’s salads,
I’ll go kill a cow.”
 
Arashi opens his mouth to protest, then just shrugs. “Yeah, all right. Cows eat
grass, that’s almost like a salad. Don’t bother Mika, he’s probably letting
them nurse or something.”
 
“You’re eating a salad by proxy. Do you know I walked in on Elia latched to his
nipple once?”
 
“I heard about it.” Arashi shakes his head, looping an arm around Izumi’s
waist, leading him out towards the stables. “He said she felt bad because she
was hungry. What have they been eating up here? They’re not fat, so I assume
not northern salad...”
 
Izumi, when pulled close, catches another whiff of how good Arashi smells and
feels his knees buckle. Get it together, he mentally scolds himself, horrified
at how pathetically desperate he feels. To be fair, he’s never gone this long
without before, and it’s bordering less on normal, fun, sex feelings, and more
like hunger pangs. Ritsu had been the one to mention something like that
before, but actually experiencing it… “They, ah. They’re surprisingly normal?
Other than healing quickly. Then again, I was, too, as a kid…I don’t think they
can heal others, or if they can, I haven’t seen it and they haven’t told me.”
 
“Mm, I’ve been doing a bit of...don’t laugh,” Arashi warns, “but I’ve been
doing a little bit of, I guess you could call it research. On known half-bloods
and stuff, and the kids they have. Interesting stuff! From what I can gather,
half-bloods have human forms, but all the powers of the nonhuman parent, but
quarter bloods can usually pass as normal, unless they know what’s going on and
deliberately try to improve their abilities. I found out more stuff too,
but...” He shrugs, a little flush creeping into his cheeks.
 
“My kids are lucky, then, they’ll never be as crazy as their papa,” Izumi
weakly laughs. The urge to rub on Arashi like a cat in heat is still intensely
strong, but he forces himself to curb it back. “What else did you find out? I
hate reading up on this sort of thing myself, it just freaks me out the more I
learn.”
 
“Don’t tease me for doing all this research,” Arashi warns. He steers them out
towards the stable, where his men are starting to care for their mounts. “The
really strange stuff starts happening when you get into half-bloods and quarter
bloods that intermingle. That turns out some...interesting creatures. So make
sure you carefully watch who they wind up with, especially if they’re as horny
as their dad when they grow up.”
 
“If they’re lucky, they won’t be, I want to scream right now. Hey, did you
figure out what you are, all mixed up in there?” Izumi idly squishes himself
closer to Arashi’s side, stretching up to lick his ear like he’s seen Mika do
dozens of times.
 
Arashi, from long practice of smacking Mika away in similar situations, doesn’t
even bat an eye before cuffing Izumi’s ear. “Yeah,” he admits. “That’s one
reason I was curious. Looking back, I’ve got a great-great-grandfather there
were rumors about. He was a logger, and multiple people said they saw him lift
whole trees by himself. And his father isn’t listed. Then on my Ma’s side...”
He forces a smile. “This was kind of hard to figure out, but Shu helped me find
some of the records. Looks like my great-grandmother was a maid in the Academy
for a bit, just before my grandma was born.”
 
“Mmm, so you’ve got some fancy mix-blooded wizard up in there, too,” Izumi
murmurs, undeterred, but lays off for the time being. Even if Northerners don’t
give a damn about what he and Arashi do, climbing all over him in front of
Arashi’s men is still awkward on several levels. At least their social status
has more or less evened out now, instead of being the strange mix of Arashi
outranking him militarily and Izumi outranking him socially, and neither of
them really knowing how to deal with that in a public setting. “I wonder if you
were trained if you could be enhanced. I mean, you already are, but I mean in a
really magical sense…”
 
“I don’t want to.” That’s a flat refusal, though Arashi smiles to make it seem
less harsh. “Honestly, don’t tell Mika this, but magic really freaks me out. I
know it sounds stupid and superstitious, but if I could get rid of it, I would.
I mean, the strength and the not-dying is nice, but...you ever hear what
happened to that guy in High Harbor, Captain Morisawa’s affiliate?”
 
“No, I didn’t.” Izumi spares a nod to the stablehands, but shoos them away when
they start to reach for his horse. Privacy is much preferred at this point.
“Just ride with me, give Neigh’s legs a rest. And don’t worry,” he tells
Arashi, tossing on Vale’s saddle. “I agree with you. I’d much prefer being
normal and capable of dying, thanks.”
 
Arashi exhales, swinging up into the saddle, reaching down to pull Izumi up in
front of him. “Can’t tell that kind of stuff to Mika. He likes being a wizard,
you know. I mean, he doesn’t like his powers that much, but he doesn’t want to
be normal or anything. I don’t think he’d know what to do as a normal person.
Imagine him trying to sell fruit or something.”
 
“Yeah, he’d try to make little clothes for his apples and give them hats,”
Izumi mutters, settling down in front of Arashi and firmly telling his mind to
not focus on how Arashi’s dick is on his ass. He sucks in a quick breath, picks
up Vale’s reins, and nudges him forward. “He’d still be a prostitute, I think
we both know that. Hey, how fresh do you want this? Like, farmer down the road
slaughtered his extra steer this morning and still has some nice cuts at the
end of the market day, or your beautiful Prince-of-the-North lover literally
slits the throat of an enormous mooing mess in the middle of a field and roasts
it in the same spot?”
 
“....You’ve really gone off the deep end, haven’t you, darling?” Arashi asks, a
little taken aback. “As delightfully, ah, rugged as that sounds, I think I’ll
go with the one that doesn’t take several hours.”
 
“There’s nothing to do up here,” Izumi hisses. “Except listen to everyone
complain. I want to go home, and when I say that now, I absolutely mean the
capital which makes my mother so angry. But no, instead I’m up here going
insane, trying to keep the North from deciding the capital and king are shit
after all. They got really excited up here about maybe being in charge.”
 
Arashi grimaces. “Damn. I was hoping the king’s worries about that were just
him being silly. When do you think we can steal you back home? I can only avoid
stuff in my dominance for so long...I want to be able to spend time with you
lot before your kids forget who I am.”
 
“Steal me now,” Izumi wearily says. “I mean, as soon as you’re ready to head
out, at any rate. Maybe if I just leave, this place will calm down. I know it
looks calm, but…”
 
He shakes his head, steering Vale out onto a very beaten dirt path. “Long
before even my grandparents were in charge here, the North has been the bitch
of the capital—the kind that you see someone treating like shit again and
again, which is really fucked up when you realize that the one getting treated
like shit is the one doing all the work. Produce, meat, all those trendy cold-
water fish rich nobles love eating—it’s all from up here. We’ve got whole towns
modeled to look like what noblemen think the quaint ol’ North looks like so
they can come vacation here and keep treating us like shit. I guess I’m not
surprised that the North saw a chance and took it, and that now no one wants to
let it go. It’s just touchy, when the really militant ones keep addressing me
like they would a king.”
 
Arashi sucks in a breath, tsking a bit through his teeth. “Lord Vanrel, the one
that died, the one I replaced? He used to talk about it like some kind of adult
playhouse,” he recalls, frowning slightly. “Used to tell us pages that
traveling up here would put hair on our chests.” He hesitates. “He’d say other
things too, about the locals, but I’m not going to repeat them. I understand
why you’d be sick of that, though.”
 
“Yeah. Noblemen come up here with their wife and kids, stash them at a vacation
house, and hire a local to take them hunting or fishing or whatever. By that, I
mean the locals hunt for them, and they get to bring back the catch like they
did all the work—and those are the decent nobles that come through,” Izumi
grumbles, and then after a short pause, adds sullenly, “It’s one of the many
reasons why my mother hates the idea of me ever being Leo’s consort, as if it’s
even remotely possible. To be fair, she’s not wrong…if I did that, I’d look
like I’m selling myself to fancy nobles in the capital. ‘He’s never even come
up North,’ she likes to remind me.”
 
It’s barely another minute up the road before Izumi turns off onto a much
smaller path, bordered thickly by trees, but those soon disappear to reveal a
surprisingly sprawling market up ahead. “She likes you,” he quietly adds. “So
that’s good, at least.”
 
That soothes a fear Arashi hadn’t realized he had. “I’m glad she likes me.
Anyone who raised you has to be pretty awesome, right? I mean, totally crazy,
obviously, but...”
 
He leans back, letting the wind blow over his face. “I never could have
understood how hard it is to run a whole dominance by yourself when I was
younger. Now...I don’t know how anyone does it. If I didn’t have deputies that
take care of it when I’m gone...”
 
“I’m not even running it at all, and it makes me want to scream,” Izumi
mutters. “I’m not allowed to actually run anything, I just get to observe my
mother’s meetings and things like that. It makes me feel like I’m a child
again—and then she wonders why I want to leave.”
 
“I mean, you’re going to have to do it someday, right?” Arashi asks. His eyes
flick around the market, and he breathes in deep, taking in the sights, sounds,
and smells. “You’re lucky that you get to watch someone do it first. And at
least you’re older than I was. And everyone around here respects you.”
 
“I know what you mean, but I’ve been training for this my whole life, and my
mother won’t let me do shit while still complaining that I’m not doing enough.
I’m going to go insane—more than I already am.” Izumi huffs out a breath,
pulling Vale up short and sliding off, passing the reins back to Arashi. “Stay
put a second.”
 
He disappears down a narrow aisle in the market that horses (especially
Northern horses) absolutely can’t fit. A few minutes later, he reemerges a
basket on each arm, dodging a few locals that immediately try to stop him for a
chat, and hands up the first basket before pulling himself back up and
balancing the second in his lap. “Sorry about it, but you’re gonna get addicted
to those,” he tosses back. “You’ve never had a real Northern meat bun. I’d tell
you to save one for Mika, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t eat.”
 
Arashi gets a whiff of the bun, and stops in the middle of his sentence to take
a bite of the bun. Flavor explodes in his mouth, and he whimpers, nearly
falling off the horse. “Am I drooling? I feel like I’m drooling. Why do you
bother selling produce down South? Sell these, I’ll buy them all--who made
this, I’m going to make him a knight in my house--”
 
“There’s like six of them in there, and they’re made fresh every day, so don’t
worry, there’s no shortage,” Izumi wryly says, turning Vale around to head back
home. “We rarely sell the best meat down South because it doesn’t ship well and
it’s best fresh, anyway. Guess you’ll have to stick around up here for the good
stuff, huh?”
 
Arashi’s eyes narrow. “You can’t lure me in like this, witch. I have fast
couriers, I’ll pay someone to ride up here and grab me some of these every
week. It’s just too damn cold.”
 
“Guess what else?” Izumi hums, twisting in the saddle and dangling the other
basket back at him. He lifts the edge of the cloth wrapping, and the smell of
very fragrant, rich sweets immediately pours out. “You’ll never find better
milk chocolate. I know, I know, you like the darker stuff, but trust me, the
cakes here are the best, especially with the little caramel bits thrown in. I
definitely got extra; if Mika doesn’t eat this, I’m tossing him on the street.”
 
Arashi’s mouth waters again, his stomach growls loudly, and he throws caution
to the wind, grabbing what looks like a chocolate teacake and stuffing it in
his mouth. Actual tears spring to his eyes, and emotion flows through him,
enough that he just sort of smacks Izumi’s shoulder. “I’m so mad at you right
now,” he says through teacake. “You’ve been keeping this from me, I hate you.”
 
“You should’ve visited me sooner!” It’s hard not to smile when Arashi is so
obviously enjoying himself, so Izumi quickly looks forward to hide it. “Guess
you’ll have to stay a bit longer if you want to enjoy it to the fullest. Ah,
don’t eat the little hard candies in there, those are specifically for that
weirdo. They’re ridiculously sweet and have a cream center, hopefully he’ll
enjoy himself.”
 
Tears come to Arashi’s eyes again. “Izumi...you do love him, I knew it, he
thought you forgot about him but I knew you loved him!”
 
He steals another tea cake, whimpering at the taste.
 
“Shut up, as if I’d forget about that idiot. He’s so skinny, you better make
sure he eats all of that. If he dies, I’m blaming you.”
 
“Yes, yes, of course, I know that’s just how you show him your looooove!”
 
“I’ll toss you and all your newfound addictions into the mud.” Izumi huffs,
steering Vale back to the stables, and stops short just outside of them,
sliding off of his back. “Let’s go rescue him from my kids.”
 
“He probably won’t want to be rescued,” Arashi points out. “He’s been talking
about them nonstop since we set off for this godsforsaken place. I’m pretty
sure all of them think those kids came from his loins.”
 
“Fine, then he can stay in my room and we’ll go fuck in the cellars. Pass your
food basket down and get off my horse, you brat.”
 
“You put us in your room?” Arashi pretends to be scandalized, passing down the
basket. “We don’t even get a guest suite? Wow, I’m offended, I’m a Lord, you
know!”
 
Izumi scowls up at him as he takes the basket and hands his reins off to the
nearest, yawning stablehand. “One, the assumption we’ve got room for a bastard
like you to have his own room. Two, if you don’t want to sleep in my bed, sleep
on the floor. Mika likes to cuddle at least.”
 
Arashi slides off the horse, dodging a lazy snap of Vale’s teeth that he’s well
accustomed to by now. “Hmm, maybe I won’t charge the Sena estate for all the
money you scammed out of me last year after all. If they can’t afford even a
guest bed!”
 
“I’ve sucked your cock for free enough times to make up for that,” Izumi
sniffs, turning away to stalk back to the estate. “Fine, I see how it is, you
don’t want to spend any time with me after all.”
 
Arashi reaches out, yanking Izumi back by the back of his collar. “Have you got
that stick up your ass so far that you can’t take a joke?” he asks mildly.
“Will you be annoying until I get it out of there?”
 
Izumi tilts his head back, batting his eyelashes up at Arashi. “Probably. I
bought you sweets, be sweet to me.”
 
“I was honestly expecting you to ask me to be paid back,” Arashi says with a
laugh, reaching down to squeeze Izumi’s ass. “We’ll be those obnoxious nobles,
though I have no desire for any cute local boy to do my hunting for me.”
 
“Don’t be an ass, you are my guest,” Izumi grumbles, reaching back to half-
heartedly slap Arashi’s hand away. “Because of that, I don’t really have a
choice but to spoil you while you’re here, I guess. That starts with letting
you have my bed, which is absolutely the best one you’ll find.”
 
“Hmm, what a tragedy,” Arashi hums, giving it another squeeze before he lets
go. “And of course, it would be  impossibly rude of me, as a guest, to kick you
out. So, apparently we have no choice but to share. Ah, where are the girls
staying? I want to nail you through that soft mattress of yours, and I’d rather
not have them as an audience.”
 
“The more you talk about it, the more I can’t walk,” Izumi huffs, quickening
his pace. His face flushes even as he says that, a drop of sweat sliding down
the back of his neck. Stressful, this is so stressful. Arashi has no idea what
this is like, not at all. “They have their own room, and my door locks, thank
god.”
 
He pauses just inside of the estate, feeling immediately on edge. There’s
nothing visibly amiss, but something in the air simply doesn’t feel right, and
he hesitates, brow furrowing. “Smells like magic. Or, well, it doesn’t smell,
but you know what I mean, right?”
 
Arashi frowns at the estate, trying to feel something supernatural, and coming
up empty. He strains, but it’s like trying to smell underwater--it’s a sense he
simply doesn’t have. He shrugs, then drops his hand to the hilt of his sword,
omnipresent at his hip. “Danger feeling?”
 
“Not exactly, just—tense? Smells like Mika.” Izumi worries at his lower lip,
quickening his steps down the hall. “There’s nothing that should be upsetting
him here, though—but it definitely smells like him.”
 
“Maybe he had to eat your mother’s salad,” Arashi quips, and walks so fast that
he nearly leaves Izumi behind, striding as fast as he can without outpacing
Izumi and losing his way.
 
“That’s so much more likely than you’d think,” Izumi quietly says, quickening
his own steps to lead the way and throw open the door to his bedroom.
 
His children are absent, but Mika isn’t, and neither is his mother, complete
with that damned salad. Mika, scrunched up against his headboard, looks
decidedly unimpressed, and the low, underlying ripple of magic in the room is
dangerous and uncomfortable enough to make the hair raise up on the back of
Izumi’s neck. “Mama,” he firmly says. “Leave him alone, he’ll eat when he wants
to eat and not before.”
 
“An’ he’s a growing boy,” Sena Maya says firmly, huge wooden spoon in hand, a
white and oozing dollop on the end of it. “Or lady, as the case may be. Now
open up, your wiltin’ maiden schtick don’t fool me none!”
 
Mika’s response—and for once, Izumi thinks it’s very justified—is to hiss like
a cornered cat, and wriggle himself even further into a tiny ball.
 
“Mother. Mika’s a wizard—remember, I told you how sensitive they are?” he
presses, sidling up closer and reaching out to take the spoon from her. “I’ll
feed him, you just—leave that salad out for later.”
 
“It’s a good salad,” she insists, looking extremely put out at the amount of
effort expended versus salad eaten. “Here, child, come here and eat some, I
showed him it wouldn’t poison him, but maybe if you do it--”
 
“Mika’s not a child, Mama, he’ll eat when he’s hungry,” Izumi insists. How is
she so oblivious to the amount of tension pouring off of Mika, anyway? “Just
like I will. Please don’t shove that in my face either, I’m sure it’s good,
but—“ An edge of a rug sparks into purple flame. Izumi hastily steps on it,
which seems to do the trick.
 
Maya’s eyes narrow, and she plops the spoon back into the bowl, blinking
quickly. “I just want to make a good, welcoming home,” she says with a sniff.
“Where I’m from, you feed your guests, and you take what’s given to you, and
you don’t go lockin yourself aweey.”
 
“He’s been traveling for weeks to get here, he’s exhausted, and he’s—“ Mika
dives underneath a few blankets as Izumi speaks, disappearing in short order.
“Overstimulated,” Izumi finishes tiredly. “Mama, don’t cry, c’mon, let’s go to
the kitchen and I’ll eat your salad.”
 
Another hearty sniff, and Maya walks out, slamming the door shut on Izumi as
well. Arashi’s shoulders relax, and he gently prods the Mika-shaped lump.
“Amaka? She’s gone, are you all right?”
 
Slowly, the lump unfolds and Mika’s mismatched stare peeks out from underneath
the blankets. “She’s not comin’ back, is she?” he whispers, occasionally
trembling, much like an animal left out in the cold.
 
“No, she’s furious, she’ll stay away for a bit,” Izumi mutters, setting down
the basket of sweets next to his bed and plopping down on the edge. “She gets
like that sometimes. Though I agree, you really should eat, you’re mostly
bones.”
 
The tense, unstable undertone of magic in the room slowly starts to settle
again, and Izumi exhales the breath he’d been holding. Mika reaches out a hand
from underneath the blanket for one, firm grabbing gesture in Arashi’s
direction. “I’m not good with moms,” he softly says. “She wasn’t mean or
nothin’, it was my fault. Sorry.”
 
Arashi grabs the basket, immediately fishing out a few of the little sweets to
distract him. “Forget about that, look how cute these are! Ahh, they’re so cute
they made me think of you, so make sure you eat up, all right?”
 
He perches on the side of the bed, tousling Mika’s hair sweetly, “We went on an
adventure and had meat buns. Izumi has totally been holding out on us, so maybe
we should start a trade war...”
 
Mika perks up a little at the sweets, and reaches out to take one from Arashi’s
hand. “Blow up the North, then it’ll be warmer ‘cause of all the fire,” Mika
decisively says, unwrapping one and popping it into his mouth. His eyes close
in pleasure, and he buries himself further into the bed. “Or maybe just start a
war so I get all the candy I want.”
 
“Don’t let him steal all the credit, I got those for you,” Izumi gruffly
mutters, folding his arms across his chest as he watches them. “You don’t have
to start a war if you just stick around, I’ll keep you flush up with candy.”
 
“Don’t worry, I ain’t leavin’ those babies again. They’re mine.” Mika’s tongue
pokes out, stained redder from the candy. “Where’s their room? I want them.”
 
“Down the hall, to the right—“
 
Mika scoops up the last few pieces of candy before slithering out of bed,
tousled robes and all. “Got it. Bye!”
 
He disappears with the door clicking quietly behind him, and Izumi stares after
him for a moment. “Did I say something?” he finally settles upon. “He’s
awfully…distant.”
 
Arashi frowns, following Izumi’s gaze. “Honestly, I thought he was acting that
way because he missed you,” he says truthfully. “Maybe he just really missed
the girls more than I thought...or hell, maybe he’s mad at both of us and we’ll
never know why.”
 
“I mean this nicely, I swear, but…I’m so glad you’re fucking normal?” Izumi
drops down onto the edge of the bed, shaking his head. “You know what I mean
when I say that, right? Half the time, I’m pretty sure I’m always saying the
wrong thing to him and I don’t know why.”
 
Arashi huffs out a breath, scooting forward to drape his arms around Izumi’s
neck. “I know,” he says quietly. “I’ve loved him for half my life, and I still
feel like I don’t know anything about how he works inside. At least you just
scream at me when you’re upset, instead of trying to hide it away from me.”
 
“Not everyone’s a damn mindreader,” Izumi mutters, leaning back into Arashi and
turning his head to butt his face gently into the side of his neck. “I didn’t
know he was bad with parents or whatever, or I would’ve asked my mother to
really stay away. So this is probably my fault, sorry.”
 
“I didn’t know either.” Arashi hooks his chin on Izumi’s shoulder, sliding his
arms around Izumi’s waist, breathing in his scent for a long minute. “I’ve
never tried introducing him to mine. Not sure why I would. Maybe it’s just
mothers, since his mom was...you know.”
 
“I know next to nothing about it,” Izumi admits, settling back with a pleased
little noise. Arashi is warm, and smells so nice, and it’s difficult to stay
focused when he wants to burrow against him and never leave. “He’s never
brought it up to me. If there’s something I should be doing to make him hate
this all less, tell me, but otherwise, I’m just gonna assume he’s being moody.”
 
“All I know about his mom is that she sold him since he was a kid,” Arashi
admits, “and I suspect she’s the one that sold his eye, too. Understandably, he
doesn’t like to talk about it much. Mm, you smell so good, I don’t want to talk
about sad things...”
 
“Me, either. I’m probably going to die if you don’t start kissing me.” Izumi
twists in Arashi’s arms, slinging a leg over his thighs to straddle his lap.
“We’ll take care of Mika when he wants our company. If my kids are making him
happier right now, good for him for knowing that.”
 
Worry over Mika still nags in Arashi’s mind, but Izumi is warm and sweet in his
arms, and extremely present. He leans in, starting soft, pressing easy, light
kisses to Izumi’s neck, his cheek, his lips. “You missed me as a person too,
right?” he teases gently. “Not just because you’re going to die without sex?”
 
“If I didn’t miss you as a person, do you really think I’d buy you cake instead
of immediately jumping your bones?” Izumi huffs, draping his arms over Arashi’s
shoulders as he leans in to kiss him, lightly nipping, then sucking on his
lower lip. “No one up here knows a good sword from a bad one,” he breathes.
“And the men never fucking shave. Please talk shit with me later, I’m dying
without you.”
 
Mollified, Arashi summons the rest of his strength, committing to being exactly
what Izumi wants for the rest of the night, and dumps him on his back, hands
working swiftly at his buttons. “I still haven’t bathed,” he warns. “But you’re
such a dirty girl, I bet you like that, don’t you?”
 
Izumi immediately melts into the bed, a hard shudder running down his spine. So
what if he’s already panting a little? That just makes Arashi’s job easier, so
isn’t that a plus? “You smell so good either way,” he groans, arching and
wriggling to spread his legs, his own fingers racing to get to Arashi’s laces.
“You don’t…you don’t have to do anything special, just…”
 
“Mm, but it’s always special with you,” Arashi murmurs, stroking Izumi’s hair,
shifting back to let Izumi at his laces. “Have you got oil for me? I’ve never
fucked someone whose mother could walk in at any time, this should
be...different...”
 
“Shut up, she’s not gonna walk in,” Izumi complains, eagerly finishing the job
of unlacing Arashi’s breeches and tugging them down, enough to free his cock.
He shoves himself up onto his elbows to better reach for it, licking his thumb
before he lets it drag down the head, slowly working Arashi to hardness. It’s
fine if it takes awhile, so long as he knows he’s getting what he wants. “Oil’s
between the mattress and headboard, I’ll grab it in a second—just—let me touch
you for a minute,” he breathes, lurching up to rub against Arashi’s hand,
turning his head to press his mouth to his palm. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
 
A pleased, flattered little flush creeps into Arashi’s cheeks, and he strokes
Izumi’s lovely fall of silver hair, winding the strands around his fingers.
Izumi has beautiful hands, working him to full hardness, though it takes longer
than he likes (which Arashi knows, because he has to complain about it
constantly). “I already came once today,” he says softly, dragging Izumi’s hair
closer, placing a kiss to the strands. “You know that means I’ll go for a while
once it’s hard. How many times do you think I can make you come, darling?”
 
Izumi shudders visibly, and his fingers squeeze tighter around Arashi’s cock,
overeager. “I’m going to come just from t-thinking about that, if you’re not
careful,” he whispers, his chest heaving. It’s not an exaggeration on his part,
not when just touching Arashi’s cock after so long makes him struggle to catch
a full breath. Arashi petting him already has him on edge, his own cock aching
between his legs, and Izumi hastily reaches back to yank the tie out of his
hair on an afterthought, giving Arashi more to play with. “Not like you have to
fucking try, just the way you talk to me is…”
 
“Get your clothes off. All of them.” Arashi pushes Izumi’s hand away, eyes
sharp in the low light. “And do it slow, I want to watch.” It’ll also give his
body a little time to catch up, which will hopefully mean that they won’t end
the night with Izumi too disappointed in his lack of stamina.
 
Izumi whines through his teeth, annoyed that he’s not allowed to keep touching,
but fuck if he doesn’t like the way Arashi sounds when he starts tossing orders
around. Obediently, his hands slide up to the fastenings of his shirt instead,
his fingers trembling as he tries to take his time tugging open buttons and
shrugging it off. He flops back, yanking at the laces of his own breeches, and
trying desperately not to let his hands linger when he’s so hard already that
it hurts. “The way you fuck me…that’s the best, you know,” he breathes, his
eyes fluttering. “You always…the way you move in me, you’re just…”
 
Arashi shucks the rest of his own clothes--it’s hot to fuck in them when
neither of them can wait, but he has no idea what kind of laundry service they
have up here. Best not to risk more stains than he has to. “That’s because I
know what you need,” he says, with a little cheerful hum. He wraps a hand
around himself, stroking slowly, feeling himself rise to full hardness when
Izumi flops around like that, desperate and hungry, hungry for him. “And I like
giving it to you. Have you been using that oil on yourself while I’m gone,
darling?”
 
“Y-yeah, but it’s…” Izumi swallows hard, squirming to yank his breeches down
and kick them aside. He can’t wait any longer, and he twists around, fishing
out the stashed bottle of oil, half-empty (could be emptier, in his opinion).
“Not the same,” he finishes with a huff. “Arashiii, finger me, I like the way
you do it best.” Compliments get him everywhere, usually.
 
Well, getting hard again is no longer a concern.
 
Arashi kneels on the bed, grabbing the oil from Izumi’s hand and tipping a
generous amount over his hand, wasting no time before sliding a pair deep
inside. “Ahh, you really haven’t been playing with it enough, have you? You’re
so tight back here, I feel like I’m going to make you cry just with this
much...how thick are the walls here, hmm?”
 
Izumi’s breath hiccups. “T-thick enough,” he whispers, his eyes squeezing shut
as his legs splay wide automatically, lifting his hips to press down onto
Arashi’s fingers, savoring that tense, achy stretch. A mistake, that’s a
mistake—he clamps a hand over his mouth just in time to keep back a low,
breathy groan when just that much is enough to make his cock twitch, dripping
over his stomach already, but not getting the slightest bit softer. A muffled
whimper escapes from behind his hand, and Izumi blinks hard, not entirely
certain if it’s sweat or tears that’s making him taste salt.
 
“Ahh, really? Thick enough when you’re screaming for more?”
 
Arashi leans in close, nibbling on Izumi’s ear, plunging his fingers in deep,
spreading them wide to make sure Izumi is slick and stretched enough to make it
good for both of them. “What a naughty girl, you really want all of these big
hairy men to hear what they can’t have, don’t you? What they’re not good enough
for? You know they must all be dreaming about touching you, and now they’ll get
to hear me make you scream...does that get you off? Or do you just like being
fingered that much, hmm?”
 
Izumi’s fingers shake before sliding away from his mouth, his hand instead
weakly grabbing for Arashi’s back, clinging as he pants and arches, riding down
against Arashi’s hand. “Yes,” he rasps out, his lower lip trembling until he
bites it, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment, brow furrowing. Even Arashi’s
fingers after so long make him ache and feel like he has to spread his legs
wider to better take them, but it does little to help, and that only serves to
make him harder. “Y-yes—both…I…fuck, you’re so good…at that,” he whines, his
nails biting into Arashi’s skin when his voice breaks on a yelp, those long
fingers pressing inside him so perfectly that it makes sweat bead at his
hairline. “Fuck, you’re gonna…you’re gonna make me c-come again…”
 
“I won’t fuck you until you do,” Arashi sing-songs, turning his hand to curl
his fingers, deliberately rubbing over that tense, hard bundle of nerves that
he loves teasing. He presses a hard, sucking bite to Izumi’s neck, reveling in
the ability to mark him as much as he wants, knowing that Izumi can heal
whatever he chooses, taking that as carte blanche to do as he pleases. “You’ll
be good for me, won’t you? Show me that you’re worth my cock.”
 
Izumi gasps and jerks, the words barely out of Arashi’s mouth before his cock
spills again over his stomach, a much harder, more insistent pulse this time
that leaves him panting open-mouthed and nearly twisting sideways from the
sudden, intense overstimulation. That doesn’t stop him from clenching down hard
around Arashi’s fingers, every breath he takes in making him squeeze around
them, and he swallows noisily, tongue flicking out to stop himself before he
can start drooling. “Please,” he whispers, pawing weakly at Arashi’s chest.
Every bite and suck to his neck just makes him twitch again, and Izumi’s head
flops back with a huff of breath, surrendering. “Please, Arashi, please.” 
 
At this point, it isn’t a matter of waiting. Arashi climbs on top of Izumi,
pulling his fingers out with another hard suck to Izumi’s neck. “You’re going
to be even tighter around me after that, aren’t you?” he murmurs, grabbing
himself to guide the head to that slick, inviting hole. He pauses just long
enough to tip more oil over his cock, slicking the thick length before pushing
in. The tight heat steals his breath, and he has to pause for a moment, stars
bursting behind his eyes. “A-aahhh, that’s--come on, let me hear your pretty
voice--” He reaches around, finding a nipple and rolling it between finger and
thumb.
 
Immediately and eagerly obedient, Izumi arches with a low, rumbling groan,
sounding every bit as satisfied as he looks when Arashi’s cock finally sinks
into him. His chest heaves with each panting breath, his nipples immediately
achingly hard underneath the roll and pinch of Arashi’s fingers as his legs
splay, thighs trembling as he tries to open himself up more. “Gods, you—you
feel so hot, inside me,” he pants out, his hands dragging down Arashi’s back,
feeling the flex and ripple of each muscle. His legs shake down to his toes,
but he forces them to work, closing around Arashi’s waist to cradle him between
his thighs. “Missed it—missed you—“
 
“Missed you too, love.”
 
The words are almost dragged out of him, and Arashi lunges forward, pressing
Izumi down to the bed. He grabs one of Izumi’s hands, pressing it down above
his head, lacing their fingers together as he grabs Izumi in a deep, urgent
kiss.
 
Izumi is so sweet inside, dynamic and wild, squeezing and grabbing him. Arashi
rocks in deep, over and over again, forgetting everything except how good it
feels to snap his hips in hard and not worry that his partner is going to
break.
 
Izumi melts back with a muffled, pleased sound against Arashi’s mouth, clinging
to his hand as he sucks on Arashi’s tongue. When Arashi’s cock slides in
deeper, it makes him groan and twitch, his back arching off the bed, and his
heels dig in to better brace himself for every powerful thrust of Arashi’s
hips. “T-that’s—“ Perfect, how are you so perfect? His other hand reaches
desperately up to tangle into Arashi’s hair, clinging there to make sure he
doesn’t stop being kissed.
 
“You’re--shit, Izumi--” Arashi’s voice falters, and his head thunks down
against Izumi’s shoulder, sweat dripping onto his skin. “You feel so good, I’m-
-”
 
The words just don’t come, not the way they should, not when everything in
Arashi’s mind is shorting out at the sweet squeeze of Izumi’s body. His hands
drop to Izumi’s hips, gripping powerfully to yank him down onto every thrust,
leaning up to kiss Izumi again, and again, and again. Fortunately, his stamina
hasn’t deserted him, and he can still focus on giving Izumi what he needs so
desperately, rocking his hips in at an angle he knows drives Izumi wild. “You
still like it just like this, right?”
 
Izumi’s fingers claw their way down Arashi’s back in instant approval, the low,
ragged noise that leaves his throat even further confirmation of how good it
is. His breath hiccups, and he groans as his cock gives another, sudden twitch,
leaking freely and spilling sticky-slick over the mess already on his stomach.
“J…just like that,” he huffs out, dropping a hand to rake his own sweaty hair
back from his face before he lurches up to kiss Arashi again, sucking on his
tongue. “That’s three,” he breathes, his cheeks flushed, eyes glazed and
dilated. “You’re so fucking good at this, you know that? No one fucks me like
you.”
 
“I’m going to make it to at least four,” Arashi murmurs, trying not to gloat
and failing. “Because, darling...I’m not even close to done.”
 
He pulls out, just to flip Izumi over, yanking his hips up off the bed. He
rocks back on his knees, keeping up an easy, grinding pace, dragging every bit
of pleasure he can out of Izumi’s shuddering body. “There’s a good girl,” he
croons. “That’s how you like to be, right? Facedown, where all you have to
think about is how deep I’m in you...”
 
Izumi groans, slinking down until even his shoulders touch the bed,
uninterested in holding himself up in any way when Arashi’s very right about
how he likes this. His fingers knead into the sheets as his cock drips and
throbs with every thrust, his legs trembling, threatening to buckle when Arashi
sinks in so deep that Izumi swears he can nearly taste it. “You could…ahh…do
this all night…and I w-wouldn’t stop you, even if it was…too much…” He shifts,
reaching a trembling hand down to pinch one of his own nipples, drawing it out
until he whines. “Arashiii…it feels so good it almost hurts…”
 
“I thought you liked it when it hurt, hmm?”
 
Arashi lets his hips snap in hard and deep once, then pulls back for a few
gentle, easy thrusts, followed by another deep rut inside, then more shallow
thrusts. He reaches over for the oil, and drizzles it on the exposed shaft of
his cock, hissing in pleasure when that makes everything so much nicer,
slicker, sweeter. “You’d like it if I really hurt you, hmm? Sorry, love, that’s
just not me, you’ll have to suffer through this...”
 
“Nnn…n-not what I meant, j-just, when you..ah…fuck…” Izumi’s head flops down
for a moment as he gives up on words, and he sucks in a sharp breath as
Arashi’s cock slides in slicker than before, making him squeeze down
automatically. His chest heaves, and he paws at the bed helplessly as he
squirms back for more. “T-this is good, don’t…god, you’re perfect, don’t you
ever fucking leave me again…”
 
Even with the stamina he’d boasted about, Arashi is hard-pressed not to come at
the way Izumi wiggles on his cock. He slides in deep, holding inside, just
enjoying the tight heat of Izumi’s body as he nibbles on an earlobe, and
presses a hand into Izumi’s back, pinning him down to the bed. “Wish I could
keep it in you all day,” he murmurs, grinding in again, hardly pulling out at
all, just trying to be farther in. “Would you like that, darling? You could
just--feel like this--all the time--ahh, shit, I’m close...”
 
The noise Izumi makes is low and throaty, more a growl than anything else when
Arashi pins him down. His nails nearly cut through the sheets with how tightly
he grips them, and he nods helplessly, struggling to find words and failing for
a moment. “Wanna feel you—ah, fuck—w-when you come,” he pants out, rubbing his
face down into the mattress, unable to find a single cold spot to press his
flushed face into. Every part of him feels tingly-hot and overstimulated, and
with Arashi buried this far inside of him, every time he moves feels like it’s
enough to make Izumi come again. Maybe he hasn’t stopped, actually—it’s hard to
tell when he can barely focus on anything beyond the way Arashi smells, the way
he’s pressed skin to skin, the way his cock is so hard inside of him… “If you
never…took it out…fuck, that’d be good…”
 
It’s less the words, more the rasping low tone in which Izumi says them, that
drives Arashi over the edge. He groans, pulling back until just the tip of his
cock rests inside Izumi, then drives in deep, the last few thrusts a brutal,
savage rhythm that finally spurs him over the edge, that slick friction
dragging an orgasm out of him so powerful that he loses his footing, collapsing
on top of Izumi with a throaty shout. He’s in as deep as he can be, chest
pressed to Izumi’s back as his cock gives another hot pulse deep inside Izumi.
“F-feel that?” he groans. “That’s me...in you.”
 
Izumi shudders hard, biting into the sheets when his own cock eagerly throbs
between his legs for—fuck, now he’s lost count, but it doesn’t matter, not
really, not when his own orgasm is so much less interesting than how it feels
when Arashi comes inside of him. Arashi’s weight keeps his cock shoved in deep,
and the slick, wet mess inside makes Izumi squirm, his vision blurring at the
edges as he bites down on a sob. “You’re…really good at making me a mess, huh,”
he rasps, his legs trembling and threatening to give way. Uninterested, Izumi
doesn’t even remark on it, far more content to savor how sore and worked over
he feels for as long as it’ll last. “You,” he mumbles lowly, “are the greatest
gift to man. To me. I’m your man.”
 
Arashi somehow manages to press a sloppy kiss to Izumi’s cheek. “Ahh, saying
such nice things, how am I supposed to respond, hmm?” he asks dreamily,
nuzzling into Izumi’s sweat-damp hair. “We’re too good at that.”
 
“If you love me and appreciate me, you’ll fall asleep with your cock still in
me,” Izumi mumbles, slumping down slowly until he’s flat, more or less. He’s
tingly in a pleasant way now, the desperate edge of it gone, so now he can
actually enjoy this instead of needing Arashi to keep eating him alive. “You
don’t have to do anything with it, just keep it there. Feels nice. You feel
nice. And smell nice. Gods, you smell nice.”
 
Arashi’s cock is already wilting, starting to sting, but he grits his teeth and
presses a kiss to Izumi’s shoulder. “Go to sleep already so I can tell you I
love you without it being embarrassing.”
 
“No. Tell me now, and cuddle me, and let me take you to wife,” Izumi drowsily,
contently retorts, burying his face into a pillow. “You can be my Northern
queen.”
 
Tears prick Arashi’s eyes, and he buries his face in the back of Izumi’s neck.
“That...sounds perfect, you ass. I love you. Be my husband or something, all
right? Forever.”
 
“Yeah. I’ll get on that in the morning.” Izumi shifts, using the last bit of
his strength to twist onto his side, and more comfortably snuggle back against
Arashi’s chest. “Night, you harlot,” he murmurs, grabbing for one of Arashi’s
hands. “Love you, too.”
***** Chapter 27 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
When Izumi and Arashi finally do emerge, Arashi looks like he’s been eaten
alive by wolves and run over by a herd of horses. Izumi is glowing, bright-eyed
and energized, and this combination is entertaining, to say the least.
 
Mika lingers nearby as the two of them attempt to formulate trade agreements
that involve a whole lot of Izumi needing to return to the Capital, and Arashi
needing to return West. It isn’t going terribly productively when Arashi is
nursing his wounds and Izumi is occasionally sucking on his neck, and
overhearing Arashi’s terrible grasp of math is starting to give Mika hives,
but, well. At least it gives him time to sit, spend time with Izumi’s children
and his lovers, plus teach these kids a thing or two about what actually
matters.
 
“Put your hand right here,” he instructs Elia, holding out the complicated,
interwoven network of strings between his fingers. She tentatively reaches
forward, doing as she’s told, and Mika switches his grip, twisting the system
of strings around and pulling them so that it interlocks over her fingers
instead. “Neat, right?” he hums after her delighted gasp. “Spread your fingers,
jus’ like that, an’—“ Instead of the pull of his own hand, it’s a little spark
of magic that makes the strings change shape, pulling around Elia’s hands to
resemble something like a spiderweb instead. “Can’t teach you that one, but
it’s still pretty, right?”
 
“Please don’t turn them into wizards,” Izumi calls over amidst his scribbling,
and Mika rolls his eyes, unraveling the string with a pull of his pinky.
 
“Ain’t how it works, and they’re cute girls, so you ain’t gotta worry about it.
Though you’d both be cute wizards,” he adds underneath his breath.
 
“Granny says wizards can’t do as much as a strong man with a sword,” Kinsley
says, brow furrowed. She twiddles a little figure of a horse in her hands, with
ball-joint knees that really articulate. “She says no wizard ever got born that
can stop an army.”
 
Arashi shoots Izumi a glance, amused. “Are wizards not thought of as terribly
important up here?” he asks.
 
“They’re okay. We don’t get that many,” she explains, effortlessly referring to
herself as part of the North after just a year of living there. “There was one,
that knew Papa. But he’s gone now. If they get born here, they don’t stay
here.”
 
There’s an odd twitch that goes through Izumi at that, and he has to take a
quick breath to refocus, ink dripping from his quill in the moment that he
seems to glaze over. Mika watches him, head cocked, until Izumi shakes it off,
dabbing up the splattered ink. “That’s because wizards have to go South to be
taught…and there’s not many jobs for them up here. There’s an Academy outpost
just outside of Sena, but there’s rarely anyone posted there.”
 
“Your grandma doesn’t know anythin’ about wizards,” Mika bluntly says, winding
the string around his fingers again before splaying them again, each strand
falling into place without him actually, visibly pulling on it. “‘Specially if
she’s only really known th’ one. Wizards…wizards like Master, for example. He
can do anythin’. I’ve seen him stop more than jus’ an army.”
 
Arashi hides a smile, wiping ink-smudged fingers on a nearby rag before
sketching out another set of figures. “Get ready for a tall tale,” he whispers
to Izumi.
 
“Eh? What’s he do?” Kinsley asks, skeptical but obviously intrigued. “Uncle Rei
says his mad girly friend can see the future, there’s nothin’ cooler than that,
right?”
 
Elia scoots closer, ducking underneath Mika’s arm to nestle against his side
and watch the game of cat’s cradle that he can play entirely by himself. Mika
adjusts her to set her on his lap, exhaling a little hum. “That’s pretty cool,”
he agrees. “But Master…the stuff he can do is cooler. He can stop ocean tides
’n change ‘em all around, make whole cities think they’re in diff’rent seasons,
burn entire forests to the ground…he could level an entire city jus’ by
thinkin’ about it, that’s how strong he is.” He leans in closer to Kinsley,
eyes gleaming. “Your Papa’s armies wish they were as strong as him.”
 
“You’re going to scare them,” Izumi sighs, rolling his eyes.
 
“I’m jus’ telling it like it is. Master’s the strongest.”
 
“Don’t worry, it’s a fairy tale,” Arashi assures the girls, who ignore him
completely. “A single person can’t do all of that. We went through a war with
him and the most I ever saw him do was set a tree on fire.”
 
“What kinda city?” Kinsley asks, eyes huge and round as they focus on Mika.
“How big a city? What happens to all the people?”
 
“A big city, like th’ Capital,” Mika says, entirely ignoring Arashi as he leans
in close. Elia’s eyes are enormous as she clings to the ends of Mika’s hair,
staring up at him. “All the people would die, jus’ like that. Poof!”
 
“Sure would’ve been useful against some Inglings, huh,” Izumi mutters
underneath his breath.
 
“He ain’t a demon,” Mika huffs, whirling around to glare at both Izumi and
Arashi. “He ain’t jus’ gonna do it all out of nowhere. But he’s tested it, on
th’ Academy’s power scales, he’d level a whole city in no time.”
 
“And we all know those scales are totally accurate all the time,” Arashi says,
just as quietly as Izumi, with a little smirk on his face.
 
“A whooooole city?” Kinsley asks, eyes wide. “Can he blow up a boy called
Rolan? He pulled my hair at the orphanage. I won’t forget.”
 
“Y’all ain’t know nothin’ about the Academy, anyway,” Mika sulkily retorts as
he turns back to both girls, much more pleased with this audience. “I’ll blow
‘im up for you if Master ain’t got time, don’t worry,” he reassures Kinsley.
“But he could do it, for sure.”
 
“If Shu’s so powerful, why isn’t he the Emperor instead of Rei?” Izumi idly
tosses over. “Seems like a bit of a problem there.”
 
“‘Cause there’s different kinds of powerful, obviously. Y’can’t even begin
t’compare Master and Rei’s magic, ’s so different,” Mika huffs. “Your Papa’s
awfully skeptical for someone who’s half snake.”
 
“Half snake?” Kinsley cocks her head, turning to look quizzically at Izumi. “Is
it hidden in your boot or something, Papa?”
 
“It’s a weird Southern joke,” Izumi flatly says. “Right, Mika?”
 
Mika’s lips purse, annoyed, and he readjusts Elia in his lap, pulling her hair
back over her shoulders to busy his hands with braiding it. “Yeah, sorry.
Anyway,” he begins anew, switching deftly to Sandtongue, mostly because he
knows it’ll annoy Izumi and Arashi like none other when they can’t follow the
conversation, “your Papa and Dad over there think they know s~o much about
wizards, but they don’t know half of it. Master’s the strongest wizard that
ever lived, he could make Lord Rei beg for mercy.”
 
Kinsley’s eyes brighten. “Really?” she asks, in accentless Sandtongue. “Uncle
Rei makes flowers happen just by thinkin’ about them. Mama, I wanna be a strong
wizard when I grow up. I’ll be good at it, like your Master!”
 
“He’s filling their heads with nonsense,” Arashi grumbles, scribbling out a
mistake on the paper, succeeding in blotting his fingers further. “Oh, for the
love of--”
 
“I wanna be a wizard, too,” Elia softly says in Sandtongue as well, tilting her
head back to stare up at Mika, her eyes enormous. “Then I can have a pet cow
instead of the ones that keep getting eaten.”
 
“I swear, the only time she ever talks is in Sandtongue,” Izumi crossly says
underneath his breath, fishing out a handkerchief to shove it in Arashi’s
direction. “Wipe your hands properly, you idiot.”
 
“You should have a pet cow even if you aren’t a wizard,” Mika huffs, patting
the top of Elia’s head before tilting her head forward again so he can finish
his braiding. “Mmnn, unfortunately, ladies don’t ever get wizard powers,” he
apologetically says. “Weird, isn’t it?”
 
“That’s stupid!” Kinsley folds her arms, face a scowl. “I’ll just be Granny’s
heir, then. Then I can own the North and have a bunch of wizards do what I say.
And you’ll live here too, right?”
 
Arashi wipes his hands, looking disdainfully at the paper. “Why don’t your
wizards invent spells to do math for us?” he calls. “That seems a lot more
useful than making people think it’s summer when it’s autumn.”
 
“If you get wizards that can make it feel like it’s warmer up here, I’ll stay,”
Mika cheerfully answers before turning around, staring back at Arashi with a
slow blink. “What’s the math, kara?” he asks mildly, switching back to common
tongue. “Maybe Izumin should help.”
 
“My stupid accountant,” Arashi groans, narrowly avoiding wiping his face with
ink-stained hands. “He wrote down how much feed I need for a single horse for a
week, ten units, but not how much I need for a battalion of a hundred! I’ll
have to send it back to him, ugh.”
 
Kinsley frowns, looking over at Izumi. “Is this a test, Papa?” she demands.
“Like a trick to see if I’m cheating on my sums?”
 
Izumi bites his tongue, hard, and reaches over to gently take Arashi’s
scribbles away from him. “Why don’t you just let me do this, too, actually?”
 
“Be sweet, no teasing,” Mika whispers in Sandtongue again. “Your Dad doesn’t
have the mind for sums.” He doesn’t want to think it’s sort of charming, but…
 
“But it’s easy,” Kinsley objects, looking between Arashi and Mika, tactfully
staying in Sandtongue. “Didn’t he have a Granny to teach him school stuff?”
 
Arashi watches over Izumi’s shoulder, feeling a headache start behind his eyes.
“Hey, is it that easy? Just putting a zero on the end? You’re not cheating and
messing with my sums, are you? I don’t want my horses to get hungry...”
 
“Do you think I, of all people, am going to let your horses go hungry?” Izumi
shoots back, flicking a bit of ink off of his quill and in Arashi’s direction.
“Sit back and take a break, wives are meant to be beautiful, not smart.”
 
His joke, not mine, Mika idly thinks. “I don’t know how they teach that sort of
thing in the West, but maybe not as well as they do it here,” he admits with a
little shrug. Elia, hair now neatly braided, has started to doze off against
his chest, clinging loosely to his cloak. “Or maybe you’re just really smart,
hmm? My Master’s the one who taught me.”
 
“I wanna hear more about your Master,” Kinsley says eagerly, forgetting about
her father, Arashi, and math all at once. “Can he make me tall? I don’t wanna
be short anymore, I want to be big enough to ride a Northern mare like a real
warrior lady.”
 
“You’re not short, you’re just young,” Mika admonishes, reaching out to tuck a
curling strand of Kinsley’s hair behind one ear. “You’re going to be taller
than me soon. If you eat a lot of these Northern cows, you’ll be tall on your
own and won’t need my Master to change anything, but…I bet he could make you
tall. Or he could make everyone think you’re tall by messing with everyone’s
mind all at once. He’s good at that.”
 
“I want him to teach me,” she declares. “I wanna learn how to mess with
everyone’s minds! And to be tall! And I want my hair to be pink, too, you
should write him a letter and tell him that I wanna have pink hair. The boys
around here all have a lotta hair, too. That’s why Papa won’t kiss them,
they’ve got hair on their faces.”
 
“Ehh…is that so…” Mika spares a brief glance back at Izumi, eyebrows raised,
then looks back to Kinsley. “He likes it when Dad’s got hair on his face,” he
says lowly. “But Papa can’t tell him because Dad’ll get embarrassed. Hmm, I
wonder if your hair is resistant to glamours or not…” he murmurs, tousling
Kinsley’s head of hair gently. Unlike her father, she seems to much prefer it
kept short, no matter how fast it grows. “My Master could turn it any color you
wanted, I bet. He’s good at making things fancy.”
 
She flops back, carefully storing her little horse figurine on the bedside
table. “Can you turn my hair a color?” she asks, reaching up to tousle it
herself. “You’re a wizard too, Granny says you’re a special kind. I wanna see
special magic.”
 
“Mm…I could probably only turn it black or something like that,” Mika
apologetically says. “Which is boring, I know. My magic’s not special, not like
Master’s is.”
 
“Actually, you’re right, Arashi. I’m sick of your accountant wasting my paper
as I have to work all this shit out—“
 
“What is it?” Mika abruptly interrupts.
 
Too annoyed, Izumi answers instead of being a smartass: “Seventy-eight times a
hundred and twenty three.”
 
“Nine thousand, five hundred and ninety four.” Mika turns back to Kinsley,
switching back to Sandtongue. “What kind of wizard did your Granny say I was?
Nothing bad, I hope?”
 
Izumi ignores Mika, continuing his own calculations before reaching the same
conclusion with a softly muttered “What the fuck” underneath his breath.
 
“It’s got to be magic,” Arashi declares, frowning at the sums. “Ugh, I’m wasted
on sums, I’m going to rub your shoulders while you do them for me.” He shifts,
letting his hands drift to rub Izumi’s shoulders. “And I’m firing my
accountant, he always says I owe the King money at the end of Midwinter.”
 
“Granny says you can talk to dead people,” Kinsley says softly in Sandtongue,
as if it’s a huge secret. “She says that you’re the...nnh, I don’t know the
word in Sandtongue. Someone who can’t never die, but you can go to death and
back whenever you want.”
 
“Yes, those are called taxes, Captain,” Izumi deadpans, though his eyes flutter
shut for a moment the second Arashi touches him. “But I’ll see if I can do
anything to, ah, lower those…you’re so rich it shouldn’t matter, you bastard.”
 
Mika tunes the two of them out, petting Elia’s hair slowly as she snores
quietly against his chest. “There’s not really a word for it in Sandtongue,” he
quietly says. “Also, what your grandma says isn’t quite right. I think I can
die just fine, it’s…other people, that go back and forth when I tell them to.”
 
Kinsley’s mouth opens, pupils of her eyes expanding rapidly. “Up here,” she
says quietly, snuggling closer, “they wouldn’t call you a wizard. A wizard is
the kind of person that makes fire when there’s just wood. Someone that goes
back an’ forth...that’s more like a god.”
 
“Regular wizards don’t want to call me a wizard, either,” Mika admits with a
little laugh, tugging Kinsley closer and tucking her underneath his cloak. It’s
not his Nooncloak—traveling with that draws too much attention, but it’s still
something Shu made, lined in soft velvet and certainly looking more expensive
than the rest of him. “But I’m definitely not a god. I don’t like my magic very
much…at least, not that stuff. It’s creepy, and not in the cute way.”
 
“Rolan used to say I was creepy.” Kinsley snuggles into the soft cloak, that
feels delightfully familiar, from that beautiful, magical time when her father
had first plucked her off the streets. “Some of Granny’s guards say it, when
they think I can’t hear. But those are the bad ones. They think Papa is only
loyal to His Majesty.”
 
“Rolan sounds like he needed to be shoved off a cliff,” Mika very seriously
says, petting Kinsley’s hair. “You should point those guards out to me sometime
so I can spook ‘em and show them what creepy really is. You’re not creepy,
you’re beautiful.”
 
“I fell off my horse,” she admits. “And I guess I split my head open pretty bad
on one of the ice rocks. But, you know...it doesn’t...stick...”
 
“Mm, but that’s cool, not creepy. And pretty magical, right?” Mika ruffles her
hair the wrong way. “You really look like your Papa…ah, in more than one way.
The way I see people, it’s not just faces and things, everyone’s got a little
hourglass—“ He reaches down to tap right above Kinsley’s heart. “Right here.
Your’s is pretty close to your Papa’s. So that’s cool, right?”
 
Kinsley beams with pride, clasping the spot on her chest. “I wanna be like him.
How about Elia’s? She’s not...like me, not really. She scraped her arm last
week and it took a whole hour to get better. So I’ve gotta take care of her.”
 
“Her’s isn’t quite the same,” Mika agrees. “Much more like your grandma’s, you
know? But still not quite like that.” He pauses, debating whether or not to ask
a child things like this, but if he’s just asking, not suggesting, there can’t
be any harm… “Do you want to go to the capital like he did, and be a knight?”
 
Kinsley frowns, chewing on her bottom lip. “Luca says ladies can’t do anything
in the capital. But I...” She lowers her voice, though she stays in Sandtongue,
flicking her eyes side to side to see if her father is listening, but
fortunately, he seems quite deep in sums. “I look like a boy if my hair is
short like this. A capital boy, not a big hairy proper boy. That’s why I wanna
be taller.”
 
“Ahhh.” Mika leans back, contemplative. He probably shouldn’t encourage this
kind of thing, not without Izumi’s blessing, but Izumi’s been close-mouthed
about where his children are going to stay when he goes to the Capital, and
that’s annoying. He might as well take matters into his own hands, just a
little. “Your Papa’s not that tall, so probably, no one will even bat an eye
about you,” he murmurs. “But I don’t know how all that works…you should tell
him you want to go back with him when he leaves, and why. He already breaks a
lot of rules.”
 
“If he doesn’t let me...I’m probably gonna do it anyway,” she says frankly. “I
don’t know the way, but I don’t think I’ll starve to death on my way. And I
look enough like him that no one will think I’m lying, and I know where Granny
keeps the gold. And...” She hesitates, then confesses, “And I know that with
Papa’s reputation, everyone’s gonna believe he has another bastard no one heard
of.”
 
Mika’s lips twitch in amusement. “I bet a lot of people around here think a
little girl isn’t a problem when she listens in on conversations, huh. Good,
show them otherwise.” He sits back, shifting Elia on his lap, getting a good
look at Kinsley’s face straight on. “You definitely could pass as a boy, you
look just like him,” he says. “Especially if you show up on a fancy Northern
horse. Just steal one, it’s not like it’s going to kill you.” He’s a bad
influence, definitely. “And if you’re ‘another bastard’, you’re still your
Papa’s, so I bet the king would shelter you, even if the court nobles got
uppity…”
 
“But...” Kinsley nibbles at her bottom lip, trying not to be too excited,
knowing this is the closest she’s ever gotten to success. “If I get found out,
that’s trouble. And what if Papa thinks it’s a bad idea, and he tells on me?
And what if the King tells on me? And what if Granny is mad and gives the North
to Elia?”
 
“The North is cold,” Mika complains. “And you’re going to be like your Papa,
aren’t you? You’ll never be up here if you’re a knight in the capital. Plus,
it’s your Papa, so he won’t tell on you because he wants you safe. Telling on
you would ruin that…which is why the king’ll keep his mouth shut, too, I bet.
Ahh, but don’t listen to me too much, I don’t know much about how the capital
works with this kind of thing…”
 
“But you’re the best to talk to,” Kinsley assures him, snuggling in close
again. “And you know a lot about a lot of good stuff. And if you can be a lady,
I can be a knight, right?”
 
“I mean…” Mika hedges, tucking his cloak around her firmly. “I’m not really a
lady. It’s just people up here that call me that because you and Elia call me
Mama. Either way, though, you should be a knight. I don’t think it matters
what’s under your skirt if you’re decent enough with a sword. In the
Sandlands…ah, that’s not important.”
 
“I wanna be the king.” Kinsley shrugs, and nestles into Mika’s shoulder. “I
think that would be good. I’d be good at it. Granny says I can be in charge of
the whole North, and everyone up here says the North should be in charge of the
whole country.”
 
Mika pauses at that, flipping over a few different choice responses. “Sounds
like too much work, if you ask me,” he eventually, quietly says, stroking a
hand down her back. “If you’re the king, you don’t have a lot of freedom. You
should protect the king we’ve got, then you can let him do all the things that
aren’t fun and you can be with your Papa a lot more.”
 
“But I wanna fight! I wanna fight in wars, I wanna fight berserkers like you
and Papa and Dad, I wanna fight dragons!” All of Kinsley’s tiredness vanishes,
and her eyes blaze with excitement. “I wanna kill all the Inglings and snogs,
and take over the Shadowlands!”
 
“Don’t kill snogs, they’re cute,” Mika scolds, leaning away to tap her on the
nose. “If you’re king, you can’t do any of those things. You’ve got to be a
knight if you want to go off to war. How good are you with a sword, can you
beat your Papa yet?”
 
Kinsley pauses, looking over her shoulder at her father, eyes squinting
appraisingly. “Probably,” she decides. “Mostly I beat everyone because I’m not
afraid to get cut, so they think they’ve got me and then I just step into the
blade and then I win.”
 
Mika winces immediately at that. “That’s bad, you can’t fight like that in the
capital, you’ll draw too much attention to yourself,” he says with a shake of
his head. “And you definitely can’t fight dragons or Inglings until you can
beat your Dad.”
 
Kinsley flips back off of the bed, with the kind of acrobatic skill born of an
absolute lack of fear. “Papa,” she says suddenly, switching back to Common
tongue. “Fight me.”
 
Izumi blinks, glancing up from his ledgers to stare at his daughter. “Ah—what?
Mika, what did you tell her?”
 
“Nothin’,” Mika says, slithering down underneath his cloak to cradle Elia to
his chest. She sleeps the sleep of the dead, drooling a little into his cloak.
 
“I very strongly do not believe that.”
 
“If I can beat you, I can beat all the Inglings,” Kinsley says seriously. “I
got a sword, a Northern one like they train with. I’ll fight you on the
glaciers like the coming of age, okay?”
 
Izumi’s mouth opens and shuts, and he sets his quill down to rub a pair of
fingers slowly across the bridge of his nose. “If Mika told you that, he’s
mistaken,” he says. “I’ll give you a lesson later, when your grandmother isn’t
lurking about, but I’m not fighting you right now.”
 
Kinsley scowls, and grabs her cloak from the door. “I’m going riding,” she says
in Sandtongue. “On Vale.” With that, she darts out of the door.
 
“What? What did she say?” Izumi snaps, his glare immediately snapping to Mika.
“Gods, why’d you have to teach them your damned mothertongue? I swear, it
sounds different every time one of you speak it, I don’t know how they picked
it up.”
 
Mika’s lips purse, unimpressed, and he rolls over to present Izumi with his
back while tossing over his shoulder in sharp, primly unaccented common tongue,
“They’re smart and well-educated and can be useful outside of being broodmares,
which is a pretty damned good reason for them to learn it, if you ask me.”
 
Izumi scowls, whirling on Arashi next. “Why are Southerners always like this?
You deal with him, I’m going to chase her down.”
 
He storms out, and Mika rolls his eyes, sparing a glance over his shoulder to
Arashi. “He’s still so rude sometimes and I don’t like it.”
 
Arashi stretches out his shoulders, rolling each of them in turn. “That’s just
how he is, you know that. What’s so new about it? Mm, you hurt his feelings,
you know.”
 
“Well, he hurt mine first,” Mika sulkily retorts, squishing Elia to his chest
as if she’s a plush toy. She doesn’t even flinch in her sleep, which is
wonderful. “He always acts like where I’m from is somethin’ to insult, it’s
mean.”
 
“I don’t mean right now. I mean when we showed up, and you scooped up those
babies and left him behind.” Arashi tucks a long strand of hair behind his ear,
trying not to come off too accusatory when he know that just makes Mika shut
down. “You haven’t even given him a kiss, and he went out of his way to get you
special candy. He missed you a lot, you know.”
 
“Every time I’ve thought about givin’ him a kiss, he’s busy givin’ you one,”
Mika mumbles underneath his breath, but he sighs all the same, shutting his
eyes. “’s not like I didn’t miss him, too. I’m jus’ not in the mood for…all of
this.” He flutters a hand helplessly. If Shu were here, he wouldn’t have to
explain what all of this meant, and that makes his chest hurt. “His mom,
she’s…a lot. Plus all his clingy advisors, and the weird townspeople that act
like he’s th’ king…stressful.”
 
“But we’re not here for all of that. We’re here for him. Unless...” Arashi
swallows, not exactly sure how to go about tackling this subject. Carefully, he
stands from his chair, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Do you not
want him to be a part of us anymore, amaka? I...I don’t want you to think
that...ahh...I’m no good about talking about this kind of thing, but...you know
that you don’t have to be with him, right?”
 
Mika blinks, then vehemently shakes his head, disturbed that his response is
being read like that. “No—no, that’s not—I’m not tryin’ t’break anything off or
anything like that, I mean it,” he hurriedly says, turning his head around to
look up at Arashi, wide-eyed. “I…sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come off like
that? I jus’…” He swallows, shrugging. “His mom really threw me off and I
haven’t felt good since, sorry…it’s kinda hard to separate that from…everythin’
else, I guess.”
 
Arashi gives what he hopes is an encouraging look, though the worry doesn’t
really ease from his face. He reaches over, and pats Mika’s knee. “If you want
to tell me that it’s just about his mom, I’ll believe you, if you want,” he
offers. “But just so you know, it’s a hard sell. To me, too.”
 
Hesitation flickers openly across Mika’s face, and he shifts, tucking Elia
underneath the sheets before slowly turning to face Arashi. “Sorry,” he says
again, more quietly this time. “I mean, it started with his mom. But I…I dunno.
I guess it just feels like I don’t really fit in here. I don’t want t’cause
problems for Izumin because people think I’m like…actually his kids’ mom or
somethin’, ‘cause I heard some people gossipin’ about how he’s really got a
Southern mistress after all, and…” He waves a hand, stressed and flustered. “I
ain’t a noble. I’ll never be. Sometimes, I think…I think it’d be easier, if you
two didn’t have to think about where I fit in, ‘cause you’re both so…”
 
“So in love with you?” Arashi interrupts, tapping a long finger against Mika’s
lips. “Amaka. Love isn’t easy, you know? It’d be easy if I wasn’t with either
of you and I could just marry a lady, like my councilors say. It’d be easy if
you and I were exclusive, and I didn’t have to trek up here to this goddamned
wilderness. I’m not...I don’t love you because it’s easy.” He reaches up,
tucking a wild dark curl behind one ear. “And neither does Izumi. Neither of us
are afraid of trouble, you know? Or I’d be a carpenter and he’d be a good
little Northern Lord.”
 
Mika slowly nods, still obviously unsure, but he leans forward to butt his head
against Arashi’s touch all the same. “I’ve been tryin’ to keep that in mind,”
he softly says. “Sorry that I’ve been weird. Once I get all out of sorts,
it’s…hard to bounce back sometimes when I can’t figure out how to fix myself
up, heh.”
 
“Is there a way I can help?” Arashi forces a smile, and scoots closer, so his
hand doesn’t have to be extended so far, and he can tuck Mika’s head against
his chest. “I don’t want to sound patronizing, like I’m trying to fix you or
anything, you know we both love you the way you are. Just be nicer to Izumi,
would you? You’re hurting his feelings, and I honestly do not have the stamina
to pull my weight and yours in the bedroom.”
 
“…Maybe if I knew better what his plans were, I wouldn’t feel so nervous,” Mika
admits, burrowing closer. His fingers curl into the front of Arashi’s shirt,
absently pulling on the laces at his collar. “I ain’t tryin’ to hurt his
feelings. It’s just…I don’t like not knowin’ where we’re all gonna be in a few
months. Stressful. Scary. ’s hard to settle an’ enjoy this when I dunno if I’m
gonna get dragged t’ the capital, or out west, or if I gotta stay here, or…”
 
“This trip up North was your idea,” Arashi reminds him gently. “You can tell me
that stuff all you want, but you were so excited to see him back in the
Capital, it just...I feel like something happened and you’re not telling me.”
 
“It wasn’t just my idea,” Mika huffs, stuffing his face into Arashi’s shoulder.
“N..nothin’ happened. I swear.” Everything I’m telling you is true, stop trying
to drag more out of me. The words linger on the tip of his tongue, but Mika
swallows it down. Saying the one other thing that’s bothering him won’t help,
either; it’ll just make him sound selfish and stupid, and he’s not interested.
He sucks in a quick breath, and sits back, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“It’s fine, I’m fine. Um, y’should go get Izumin an’ bring him back. I wanna be
in a cuddle sandwich.”
 
“All right, love.” The doubts still linger, but what can Arashi do if Mika
doesn’t want to share? He presses a kiss to Mika’s wild curls, then pats his
head, scooting off of the bed to leave the room.
 
Knowing Kinsley, he heads for the stables, and finds her apparently over her
mood, balancing on the edge of a barn door, chatting animatedly with her
father. “And then Granny said that someday you’re gonna wise up an’ marry
Dayton, an’ I said that’ll happen if he loses twenty years, twenty stone, and
twenty pounds of hair. That’s the last time I got my ears boxed.”
 
“Mostly it’s the twenty pounds of hair,” Izumi agrees, feeding carrot after
carrot to an enormous dapple grey that looks suspiciously like Vale, but with a
huge white blaze on her forehead. “Give it a rest tryin’ to tell her anything
aboat the kind of men I’ll marry, she won’t hear it. If you like men like
Dayton, though, don’t tell me. Fuck,” Izumi mutters as he catches sight of
Arashi, and tries to mentally recalibrate the way he speaks. “Arashi. I
would’ve been back in a minute.”
 
Arashi laughs, a gentle tinkling sound, and is suddenly grateful that Izumi had
worn him out so thoroughly that he can’t even consider getting hard. “Don’t
worry about me, darling. Mika just sent me to see where you were, and to fetch
you to be sandwich bread. When you aren’t busy loitering...aboat.”
 
Kinsley hops off the barn door, feet hardly raising dust as she lands nimbly on
the hay-covered barn floor. “I’m goin’ to play up on the glacier, Papa. Karus
says if I can beat him in an ice race he’ll jump in the pool full nekkid.”
 
“He’ll die, so try to lose,” Izumi says, reaching over to thoroughly muss
Kinsley’s hair. “But have fun, anyway.” The horse nips the last carrot out of
his hands, and he pats her neck before turning to Arashi. “I’ll shove you off a
boat and drown you the next chance I get,” he lowly warns, though without a
single ounce of vitriol in his voice. “What’s this about being sandwich bread?
He doesn’t think being a cannibal is cute now, does he?”
 
“Not sure, but I think he just wants to be the filling.” Arashi slips an arm
around Izumi’s waist, tugging him close. “I still think he’s got some kind of
cold in his magic or something, he’s acting so moody.”
 
“So long as he’s not actually going to eat us—I have to check, wizards are
weird,” Izumi mutters, stretching up to steal a quick kiss from Arashi’s mouth.
He restrains himself from doing more than that, for once. “Did you ask him
about it? Don’t tell my mother he’s got a cold, she’ll feed him an unholy
garlic concoction.”
 
“Yeah, I think the more we can keep him safe from her, the better,” Arashi
cautions. He looks around, then asks, as casually as he can, “So, what do these
people see my rank as? Like, if I renounced my dominance and moved up here to
have you in my bed full time, would that be...allowed? Just asking for, I don’t
know, make believe.”
 
Izumi pauses, rocking back onto his heels as he idly loops his arms around
Arashi’s waist, lacing his fingers together at his lower back. “Don’t say
things like that so casually, it makes me hard,” he bluntly warns. “They see
you as another lord, but on par with my mother. The West is yours, after all;
to them, your standing there is the same as my mother’s here.”
 
“So...” Arashi raises an eyebrow. “What if, for example, I got, um, removed
from my post? Would I still be able to move here and be your husband?”
 
“…What did you do? Are you getting removed from your post? Do you need me to
write a letter—or get Leo to write a letter?”
 
Arashi grimaces. “It’s probably nothing,” he lies. “Just some stuff with local
customs, and me wondering how long I can keep listening to those boring old
losers droning on and on before I go absolutely insane, you know?”
 
“Arashi…” Izumi heaves a sigh, tilting his head back to stare skyward. “All
right, assuming you got removed from your post in the West—if the king still
gave you an army and you had that sort of standing, you would still be
appropriate for me to sleep with, maybe marry. Well, marry in the Northern
sense. Until the Capital recognizes this sort of thing, the most we’ve got
there is a contract saying we’re allies, in their eyes. Up here, though, you’d
be acknowledged as my husband.”
 
“Hmm.” Arashi taps his chin, then decides, “Get it recognized by the capital,
and then we’ll talk. I don’t want to turn my back on everything I’ve worked for
without, hmm, you know. I’ve gotten quite used to having a fancy title.”
 
Izumi scowls, releasing Arashi’s waist. “As if I haven’t asked a million times.
Don’t lie, you just want to marry me because I’ve already got heirs and you
still don’t want to stick it in a woman.”
 
“Rude!” Arashi slaps him lightly on the shoulder. “I wish you wouldn’t make it
sound so callous. All of you are so quick to judge me for not leading some poor
girl on--tell your King the same, you know? Or make him pass a law saying I
don’t have to. Ugh, I do like the idea of being your beautiful wife. Or
husband. Whatever you need at the time, I’m flexible.”
 
“So be my beautiful whatever and piss off the whole West to marry me,” Izumi
mutters, grabbing Arashi’s hand to drag him back to the estate. “As I just
pointed out, I’ve got heirs, so no one up here cares who I marry, so long as
they’ve got some kind of a title. They’re all so terrified I’m marrying some
girl from the Sandlands now that they’d leap at the chance to officiate it.”
 
Arashi is quiet for a moment, and kicks viciously at a horse apple on the
ground. He looks out over the landscape, and asks quietly, “Do you love this
place? Like, love it, like you love, I don’t know, Vale, or the King? Do you
care about the people?”
 
Izumi hesitates, and goes with his gut instead of thinking about it for too
long. “Not as much as I love the king,” he answers softly. “I suppose if I did,
I would be trying to drag him up here instead of trying to go back to the
capital as fast as I can. Why?”
 
“I was just wondering...if every Lord was faking it,” Arashi admits. “Or if I
was different, or if being born into it made a difference. Because my
councilors keep trying to tell me about how I’ve got a duty to my people--but,
you know, a lot of them are assholes. I feel a duty to my men, but that’s the
ones who’ve fought for me, with me, to protect the country, not to random
peasants who probably threw mud at me when I was a kid.”
 
“Most lords are assholes.” Izumi gives Arashi’s hand a squeeze before adding
wryly, “I’m probably as affectionate about the North as you’ll ever see a lord
be about where he came from…aside from Leo. He genuinely loves the Capital and
his country, you know? I have a hard time with it, because…I hate so many
people in that place, and so many things about it…” He shakes his head. “Which
is why I agree with you. It’s hard to love places more than people.”
 
Arashi breathes a sigh of relief, butting his head gently against Izumi’s.
“Thanks. I thought I was the worst. They don’t...”
 
He looks away, vaguely annoyed. “I don’t know any of the things a Lord is
supposed to know. I was happy, just being the commander of the Army, but all
their stupid regulations about how you can’t be a commander if you’re not a
Lord, and there weren’t any other viable Lords left...I never wanted to rule.”
 
“I’ve been raised to do this my whole life, and I’d still rather be as far from
it as possible…so what’s worse, I wonder,” Izumi says with a snort of laughter,
reaching up to flick a strand of Arashi’s hair out of his face. “At least
between the two of us, we’re pretty ideal at court. Between my title, your
money, my training, your decent reputation—guess that means we can’t ever go
against one another, huh.”
 
Arashi darts a quick glance around, and finding no one, brushes a soft kiss to
Izumi’s lips. “I guess, if you put it that way,” he teases. “Hmm, you’ve
cleverly roped me into loyalty to the crown too, I suppose. Funny how that
keeps happening to me.”
 
“Oh, come here,” Izumi grouses, stretching up onto his toes as he slings an arm
around Arashi’s neck, dragging him down for a proper kiss. He nips Arashi’s
lower lip before pulling back with a roll of his eyes. “I told you, no one
cares here if it’s two men—just if it’s some mismatched rank bullshit. But
yeah, if you marry me, you’re married to the crown, too. Sorry about it.”
 
“Ah, sorry I missed the wedding,” Arashi says lightly. “What’s he going to do
about that, by the way? If he doesn’t get married, I really shouldn’t have to,
you know. I’m going to write an appeal. Ooh, write it for me.”
 
“I would, but…” Izumi grabs Arashi’s hand again to drag him inside properly.
“He’s got plans,” he mutters, leading him down the hall to his bedroom. Inside,
Mika is still curled up where Arashi left him, dozing with Elia tucked up
underneath his chin. “Nothing official yet, but—he wants to change the laws
around so that bastards are considered perfectly legitimate heirs even in the
capital, more or less. Makes it much easier for lines to continue, including
his own. All he’d have to do is knock up a lady and call her his official
concubine or something like that, not marry her.”
 
“Sounds like a pretty nifty way for someone who doesn’t mind having sex with
either gender to bend the rules,” Arashi says dryly. “And like nothing that
would help me. Here, I’ll take back, you take front.”
 
With that, he scoots into bed behind Mika, nuzzling into his back, careful not
to squeeze Elia.
 
“I know, I know, but…it’s a start?” Izumi wearily says, sliding into bed and
carefully wrapping his arms around Mika. Immediately, Mika shifts, butting his
face into Izumi’s neck with a pleased, soft noise, and Izumi bites his cheek to
keep back a smile as he drops his chin atop Mika’s head. “Eventually, I think
he wants to extend that to adopted children, but…that’s touchy, with noble
lines that depend on blood. It does pave the way to let him pass a law to allow
official consorts and the like, though…which means two men at least being
officially recognized as combining houses, that sort of thing.”
 
“It’ll let you be half snake,” Arashi murmurs, draping an arm over both of
them. “But god forbid your babies call Mika ‘Mama.’ I don’t understand old rich
men.”
 
“In the Sandlands, ain’t nobody care.”
 
Mika cracks open an eye. “It’s already a thing, in noble houses down there,” he
murmurs. “Whores are a diff’rent thing, but lesser nobles ’n stuff…male,
female, they don’t care. If it means they can squish their houses together and
get more money and things, they’ll marry whoever.”
 
“Old rich men don’t seem to like the idea in the Capital, unfortunately,” Izumi
says softly, reaching a bit further across Mika to curl his fingers against
Arashi’s side. “If Leo does get any kind of law passed…well, I’m the test
subject. My reputation’s already shit, anyway, so who better, and at any given
point, I think he still wants me.”
 
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Arashi mutters, waving a hand as he
nuzzles into Mika’s hair. The truth is, he doesn’t want to talk about it in
front of Mika, who sees his desire to run away from the issue of marriage as
proof that he simply isn’t trying hard enough to tell people what to do, or
something. “Love, let Elia sleep in her own bed, we want to hold you tonight.”
 
Mika exhales a huffy, grumbly little sound before he gently rouses Elia with a
kiss to the top of her head. “Upsy daisy,” he murmurs before switching to
Sandtongue to better wake her. “You have to go sleep in your own bed like a big
girl, run along now.”
 
Elia, drowsy and yawning, slithers her way out of bed eventually, and the door
clicks shut behind her. Izumi scoots closer, fulfilling the prophecy of being
sandwich bread as much as he’s able. “She’s going to speak Sandtongue more
fluently than common tongue,” he mutters. “What the hell.”
 
“Good, it’s prettier.” Mika yawns as well, and stuffs his face into Izumi’s
chest. “Eeeverything would be easier if Izumin were a girl.”
 
Izumi looks over to Arashi, eyebrows raised. “Doubt it. Arashi wouldn’t give me
the time of day.”
 
“Why can’t I be the girl?” Arashi asks with a pout. “I’ll be a warrior queen,
and you can both fight for my hand. Wait, no, by the laws of the West then
whoever I married would be in charge...yeah, that’s a bad option, pass. Nnh,
someone pet me.”
 
“You can be the girl, I’ll be in charge,” Izumi immediately says, reaching a
hand up to stroke and smooth Arashi’s hair. “You already said you don’t want to
deal with being a lord, so I’ll do it. You just go ride horses and kill
Inglings with your sword. That’s my ideal kind of woman, anyway.”
 
“I’d be a great warrior queen,” Arashi says dreamily, butting against that
hand. “Imagine my battle skirts. I already ride sidesaddle sometimes just
because I can. Mika, would you still love me if I were a warrior queen?”
 
“Yep.”
 
“That was fast,” Izumi says with a snort, running his nails along Arashi’s
scalp.
 
“Well, yeah, because kara could prolly crush my head between her thighs.”
 
“I’m assuming that’s a compliment? I think? What the fuck, Mika.”
 
“He has taste,” Arashi agrees. “And I’d have frankly delightful breasts, I
think. Ahh, Mika, yours would be so cute. If we were both girls, we could wear
lingerie and match!!”
 
“Yours would be big,” Mika confirms, tilting his head back to peer at Arashi.
“Mine, not so much. But Izumin’s would be the smallest.”
 
“What the fuck?”
 
“And Master would make all of us lingerie, because we’d be pretty. I mean, he’d
make it for us now, but…” 
 
Arashi scowls at his own biceps. “It wouldn’t look right,” he grumbles. “How
come mine have to be big, eh? I’m really athletic, maybe they’d be small and
firm.”
 
Mika stares at him more, unblinking. “Big and squishy or nothin’ at all.”
 
“How come you get to decide?” Arashi complains, reaching around to tweak one of
Mika’s nipples. “You naughty thing, you just want to play with them. Defend my
honor, Izumi!”
 
“As much as I like girls with small tits…” Izumi begins, leaning away from
Mika’s flail when Arashi pinches him. “You would make quite an impression as a
lady with large ones. Especially if they were spilling out a bit from whatever
corset’s got them laced up, and—“
 
“You’re askin’ a complete rake t’defend your honor, kara, give it up,” Mika
giggles, sticking out his tongue. “And it makes sense. Then you’d be as popular
with lords as y’are with ladies, jus’ ‘cause you’re so pretty. But you’d be
jus’ as bad now, only likin’ other ladies, probably…”
 
“Probably,” Arashi says with a sigh. “I can’t really imagine favoring the
fairer sex, but I suppose I am the odd one out, when it comes to that sort of
thing.” He reaches around, gently thumbing over Mika’s protruding tongue. “Mm,
don’t stick that out if you don’t want someone to use it, love.”
 
Mika blinks innocently, but his tongue sticks out a bit more, flicking over the
tip of Arashi’s thumb. “Girls are all right, but I don’t wanna,” he says
dismissively. “Men are so much better, and I like the way they smell.”
 
“Women smell so much better unless it’s men like us,” Izumi distractedly says,
suddenly too focused on Mika’s tongue. “You—ah. Hmm. I want you to know how
distracting that is.”
 
“If you get him hard,” Arashi warns, stuffing his face in the back of Mika’s
hair, “you have to make it soft again. My well’s dry. Just saying.”
 
“How many times did y’all do it?” Mika asks, amused and entirely unfazed as he
grabs for Izumi’s hand, pulling it to his mouth.
 
“Some,” comes Izumi’s disinterested reply as he shoves a pair of fingers past
Mika’s lips, letting them curl against his tongue. “Could’ve been more. I was
fine being sandwich bread or whatever you wanted, this is your fault.”
 
“He just can’t keep that tongue behind his lips,” Arashi says with a sigh,
trailing a few fingers down Izumi’s spine. “Honestly, amaka, be nice, this poor
lad has been so empty for so long, I’m surprised he hasn’t started stealing
carrots from the kitchens.”
 
“Rude,” Izumi snaps, even as he arches like a cat just from that one touch.
Mika sucking on his fingers at the same time makes him groan, his head thunking
down against the bed. “Fuck you both.”
 
Mika rolls his eyes, pulling off of Izumi’s fingers with a wet pop.
“Ungrateful, guess I’ll go.”
 
“No no no no no, no, please,” Izumi begs, grabbing at Mika the second he
shifts. “I’ll die. Probably for real this time. Mika, don’t leave.”
 
Mika flops back down obediently, rather enjoying the kind of Izumi that begs
for his attention. “Master says half-bloods use sex as a means of feedin’…so I
guess he really did eat you alive last night, huh, kara?”
 
“That’s probably why my cock isn’t working,” Arashi agrees cheerfully.
“Hopefully it’ll wake up eventually. Mm, I don’t mind egging you on or playing
with you two, though...just don’t expect the smaller Captain to salute
tonight.” With that, he turns his head, sucking on Izumi’s neck, one hand
coming up to tweak and tease one of Mika’s nipples again.
 
Mika arches with a low, rumbling noise before he rolls, shoving Izumi onto his
back and slinging a leg over his hips. “You ain't gotta do anything, kara,” he
hums, automatically reaching for Izumi’s laces and unraveling them in a swift
pull. “I’m kinda good at this. Jus’ pass me the oil, I’ll work him over enough
that you ain’t gotta worry about it for a few days.”
 
Arashi sighs happily, flopping back to the bed and passing over the oil. “I
love you more than ever,” he murmurs, batting his eyelashes. “And I certainly
don’t hate watching, you know? When it’s two men as beautiful as you
two...honestly, I couldn’t ask for a better night. Mm, who’s going to top
first?”
 
“As if he’s allowed to,” Mika snorts, and the pleased little shiver that runs
through Izumi is as visible as the flush that immediately comes to his cheeks.
He makes quick work of Izumi’s pants before settling between his thighs,
uncorking the bottle of oil with his teeth, and pouring it over his fingers.
“You think I clipped my nails for nothin’? This hand only, though,” he teases,
wiggling the slick fingers of his right hand before hiking up one of Izumi’s
legs over his shoulders and immediately leaning down to let two fingers sink
inside of him.
 
Izumi arches with a pleased, panting gasp, arching off the bed when Mika’s
fingers immediately delve in deep, stroking so precisely that his entire body
goes tense even when his mouth is open and slack. “Fuck,” he manages to rasp
out, twisting nearly sideways from the sudden overstimulation, his toes curling
until the muscles in his calves twitch. “T-that’s…not…fair—ah!”
 
Mika’s tongue pokes out between his lips, eyes lidded in concentration as he
wrings out that particular orgasm with ease, and milks it in spite of Izumi’s
thrashing and cursing. “Kara, you can hold his arms down, that’d be good. Let’s
see how many times I can get him t’go like this, yeah?”
 
“Not fair, not fair, l-let me—“
 
“Nooope, I’m doin’ it the way I wanna. Ain’t like you hate it.” Izumi’s
actually so easy. Mika pauses, contemplative, and then takes the chance and
adds, “If you were one of my customers, you’d be my favorite ‘cause you’re sooo
easy to please.” It’s the right choice, judging by how Izumi clenches down with
a muffled curse as he turns his head into the bed.
 
Arashi grabs Izumi’s wrists, pinning them to the bed with a not insignificant
amount of his strength. “You know how strong I am, right, love?” he asks
softly, eyes glittering. Just because he hadn’t wanted to be the one sticking
his cock into Izumi doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be part of the whole
experience, though maybe that’s just Izumi dragging the arousal out of him with
more of his magic. “You know if I want you to stay down there, there’s nothing
you can do to get away, right? Even if you scream--they’ll just think you’re
getting what you need, right? What you deserve?”
 
Izumi melts down into the mattress with a long, eager shudder. His fingers curl
into his palms as he gives a reflexive test against Arashi’s hold, and it’s
exhilarating to find it just as strong as Arashi promised. “T-thank the gods,”
he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “If…if you get sick of holding me down,
just string me up and leave me here…”
 
“He really is easy,” Mika idly remarks, twisting his hand to stroke firmly over
that firm little bundle of nerves that makes Izumi arch and gasp, sweat already
beading visibly at his hairline when his cock gives another, desperate twitch,
dripping over his stomach. “How many times you wanna come from this, Izumin?”
 
“I…I dunno, like, a dozen, I…d-don’t take that seriously, I didn’t mean that!”
 
Mika shrugs, leaning forward to pinch and pull on Izumi’s nipples with his
other hand. “We’ll see what happens. Kara, he’s cute when he’s like this.”
 
“Mm, isn’t he?” Arashi leans down, brushing a gentle kiss to Izumi’s cheek.
Even that much sends a tingle through him that doesn’t feel entirely natural,
if he’s really looking at his own motivations. But who cares, as long as it
feels like this? And as long as it makes Mika look this beautiful, finally
looking like he’s in his element. “We should just keep him like this. I really
will tie him to the bed, and we can just stop by whenever we want to use his
pretty holes. Doesn’t that sound nice, darling?”
 
Words fail Izumi at that suggestion, and Mika’s laughter when he clenches down
helplessly doesn’t help. Face burning, he tries to bury it further into the
sheets—easier said than done, when Mika pulling on his nipples makes him arch
and jerk underneath the touch.
 
“That’s a ‘yeah’, I think,” Mika murmurs, idly working to wring another orgasm
out of Izumi, which is really quite easy when he’s already trembling at every
single stroke and thrust of his fingers. “You can’t be done yet, can you?
What’d you do to him last night, kara, he’s being stingy.”
 
“Nothing he didn’t beg for,” Arashi assures him. “And honestly, I was pretty
sure he could have gone a few more rounds last night. Maybe you’re just not
pushing his little button hard enough? His body can be so stubborn
sometimes...Darling, did you drink enough water to come a full dozen times?”
 
Izumi’s chest heaves, a response on the tip of his tongue before he spills
again with another, patient, long stroke of Mika’s fingers. He shudders hard,
squeezing his eyes shut until tears escape from the corners of them, and then
goes limp, blissfully unconscious.
 
Mika tilts his head appraisingly before he slowly pulls his hand back, wiping
it off on the sheets. “Nice, that does work,” he hums, beaming over at Arashi.
“I read about a thing an’ I guess it works! So next time he’s too much, jus’
send him to me~ if he slurps on my life force for too long, he gets a reeeeal
rush.”
 
Arashi cocks his head, curious. “Eh? Is that what’s making him all...hmm, he’s
really sweaty, look at his eyes, I can’t even see the color in them anymore.
They’re not usually so...slitted...are they?”
 
“He gets like that when he’s really, uh…well-fed, I think?” Mika leans forward,
pushing Izumi’s sweat-soaked hair out of his face, then grabs his chin to
better get a look at Izumi’s face when he’s glazed and more or less
unresponsive. “Convenient, I guess, when he really needs t’play catch up. I
mean, it ain’t like we’ve never had sex before, but Master was tryin’ t’find
ways to make it easier on Rei, too, so this is the same thing. Deliberately
lettin’ somethin’ magical feed on you instead of jus’ lettin’ them siphon out
what they want at will makes them happier a lot…faster.”
 
“Huh.” Arashi looks down at Izumi, contemplative, then up at Mika. His hands
don’t loosen on Izumi’s wrists, but they don’t push down as hard, stroking the
soft skin there. “Is it good for you, amaka? I mean, if he’s feeding on you,
that must be taking something out of you, right? Or is it different because
you’re a wizard?”
 
“I, uh…it’s probably different, yeah, but it jus’ feels kinda nice to me,” Mika
sheepishly admits. Arashi and Shu both always talk about being so drained, but
they don’t have weird, unpleasantly unstable magic screaming in their ear that
Izumi is currently slurping on. “Like when it finally rains after weeks
without, y’know? And all that pressure lets up. That kinda thing.” He flops
sideways with a pleased sigh, snuggling up against Arashi’s side. “And now I
ain’t gotta keep busy all night, he can jus’ eat up and I can cuddle you.
Snakes are weird but good.”
 
“Mm, you’ve got to keep them warm,” Arashi agrees, tucking one arm around each
of them, flopping down to the bed. “But other than that, they make great pets.
Easy and cheap to feed, too. So I’ve got a snake and a kitty, hmm? What does
that make me?”
 
Immediately, Izumi curls up, the motion entirely instinctive as he burrows
underneath a blanket, pressed firmly against Arashi’s side. Mika watches that,
vaguely fascinated, as he nuzzles into Arashi’s shoulder. “Everyone else calls
me a bird…I think you’re more like a kitty cat. A cute one, you’d be like those
kind with fluffy hair an’ dark points on their feet and face and tail.”
 
“Eh? I’m a kitty?” Arashi considers this, stroking both Mika and Izumi’s backs.
“A cat, a bird, and a snake, hmm? I suppose I’m the one who catches you
both...that sounds like fun, I suppose.” His eyelids droop a little. “Mika,
make sure you don’t...let him feed too much...”
 
“Don’t y’want him all fat and content for once?” Mika murmurs, pressing a kiss
to Arashi’s cheek before settling with a little yawn of his own. “Go to sleep,
kara. You don’t gotta worry about us, he’s a happy snake and I’m glad to make
him be that way.”
 
Arashi licks his lips, and drifts off to sleep without another word, snuggled
and content.
 
***** Chapter 28 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Meeting with ministers and councilors always gives Leo a headache. They can
never seem to give him real answers, either because they don’t know them, or
because they seem to have something to hide. Frustrated and annoyed with the
lack of progress on the Western front, Leo rides out of the Capital, target
shooting for a few hours where no one can watch the King acting like a petulant
child, until he’s exhausted, aching, and sore. When he finally staggers back to
his chambers, he only manages to drag himself to the baths with the knowledge
that he won’t be sleeping alone, and his sleeping companion doesn’t appreciate
horse sweat. Grumbling, he cleans himself, and drags himself back to bed,
burying his face in Izumi’s back before promptly passing out.
 
When he wakes, he stretches leisurely, enjoying the lingering soreness he feels
in his muscles, especially in his back. He rolls out of bed, stretching again
by the window, watching the sun crest the distant silhouette of the Academy.
“Minister Morel is acting suspicious,” he says. “He doesn’t want to investigate
anyone in the Sandlands, says it’s a matter of religious discretion or
something. But he’s always been conservative, even under Father, so it’s
impossible to get anyone to agree with me, and even I’m not sure I’m right.”
 
His shoulders slump, and he turns back, walking to his big comfy armchair and
sitting on Eichi’s lap. “Is he a traitor, or is he just an old fuddering idiot?
You know him better than I do.”
 
Eichi, dressed in scarcely more than his long white dressing robe, hair askew
from sleep, muffles a yawn into Leo’s hair. “You’ll appreciate when he finally
dies, but whoever replaces him will be just as bad, I wager,” he says sleepily,
his arms loosely draping their way about Leo’s waist. “Is traitor still so
firmly defined as disagreeing with the king and gently working with people that
have the same opinions? If so, then yes, that’s what he is.”
 
Leo huffs, reaching up to smooth Eichi’s hair out of his face. It’s soft to the
touch, softer than it looks, like sunlight spun into silk. “I mean, is he
working with the slavers and trying to overthrow me. That is considered
treason, you know.”
 
“He works directly with men known to collaborate against you and who also have
connections to the slave trade,” Eichi lightly says, obediently lowering his
head to let Leo do what he wants with his hair. “But you know that. I wonder,
if you pressed, if you’d find one or two lovely Southern ‘mistresses’ stashed
away in his house…”
 
“That seems to be common in lots of houses, these days,” Leo mutters. He
threads his fingers through the soft strands, then gives in to temptation,
leaning forward and resting his cheek on Eichi’s chest. “I’m tired,” he admits.
“You be king today, I’m...I don’t want people lying to my face today, saying
what they think I want to hear. I can’t stop...thinking about those poor kids,
the ones that got captured. Everyone down there says they’re already gone. But
where? And why? Why can’t I find them?”
 
“At the risk of sounding like I don’t care, perhaps stepping back really is the
answer,” Eichi cheerfully says, his fingers slowly tiptoeing down Leo’s spine.
“Everyone knows you’re so very interested right now…so they’re eager to either
sell you wrong information for praise, or to better duck undercover. Stepping
back—or at least, creating the illusion of stepping back—could actually help.
See, this is why I should be in charge of everything.”
 
“And yet, you make a much better advisor than you did an Emperor,” Leo shoots
back, though his skin tingles, and spine arches under Eichi’s touch. It’s
always been like that, between them. “Mm, very well, I’ll see if that helps
shake a few nuts out of that tree. The other thing--the Inglings, in the West.
I want to push the boundaries back, and make them solid, like they were in
great-grandfather’s time. You were there. What do I need to do to make it
happen?”
 
“Oh, what do you know about that? I was an excellent Emperor. Nowadays,
everyone’s just running around like chickens with their heads cut off, blooming
all over the world, destroying faster than we can build, and still everyone
praises that idiot…” Eichi sulkily grumbles, squeezing Leo to his chest.
“Anyway. You need wizards out there. Strong ones. Strong ones that are actually
willing to kill, at that. Rei is undoubtedly already aware of that; it isn’t
just the Inglings filtering that way these days.”
 
“At least you’re smart enough to say that,” Leo mutters, though he doesn’t
bother trying to pull away when this is the first time he’s felt complete all
day. His hands splay out on Eichi’s chest, eyes closing as he just breathes in
the feeling of being held properly. “Everyone else says that the Inglings are
all we have to worry about, but I remember the old stories, even if I wasn’t
alive for them. The berserkers are the foot soldiers, that’s what they all say.
How many wizards, do you think? And do you have any recommendations?”
 
“If you had my beautiful, perfect Wataru, you’d want for nothing,” Eichi
dreamily sighs, shutting his eyes as he leans back, savoring the way Leo’s
heart beats against his own. “Though that’s not exactly true…if you want death
to the Inglings, death to the rancid little bits and pieces filtering in from
the Shadowlands…well, you’ll need to do what that fancy little lord from the
West hasn’t been able to do properly for years—convince that pair to wreck
havoc. Annoying and disrespectful as they are, they do have one use…otherwise,
you’re looking at several dozen to match that kind of strength, which, hmm…”
 
“Your precious Wataru works for me now,” Leo grumbles, fighting the urge to
kick Eichi’s shins. “Or for Rei, at least. By that pair, you mean Shu and Mika,
right? They’re so...delicate. How the heck could I get them far enough through
enemy territory to, you know...”
 
“That is a problem, isn’t it? Maybe you could ask Rei to be useful for once and
drop them off in the wilderness where they belong.”
 
Leo snorts. “As if he’d ever do that to his precious love. Mm, fine, so step
back from the slaver deal, and find truly destructive wizards to cut off what’s
coming next.” He squirms up, winding his arms around Eichi’s neck. “Need my
help with any problems on your end?”
 
“You could bring me back to life already.”
 
Eichi’s smile is a bit darker then, and his fingers curl loosely about Leo’s
waist as he leans down, setting their foreheads together. “Wouldn’t that make
it easier for you? If I was alive to run this country for you properly? I did
it for your father, your grandfather…”
 
“Behave.” Leo’s voice is breathy, without much authority in it. He meets
Eichi’s eyes calmly, without any of the intense confusion and frustration that
had bothered him when Eichi was alive. Things are always easier now, gentler,
sweeter between them, with none of the resentment, none of the heated anger.
Instead, the heat between them always seems more...desirable, these days. “You
haven’t done enough penance yet. Go on, persuade me again.”
 
“I am behaving.” Another tug of Leo forward, deeper into his lap, and Eichi
tilts his head, seizing his mouth in a kiss that’s deep and lingering, his
teeth scoring over Leo’s lower lip before he draws back. “You’re going to go
mad, you know,” he breathes, his eyes glittering in the low light. “Everyone
with a severed bond eventually does.”
 
“Yeah, so they say.” Leo strokes Eichi’s face with one finger, breath coming
quick at the kiss, thighs parting as he drags one of Eichi’s hands to his lap.
“But honestly, with me, how could you tell the difference? And what was your
excuse?”
 
“I can tell the difference,” Eichi murmurs, stilling his hand against Leo’s
thigh, gripping there as he turns his head to the side to nuzzle Leo’s hair out
of the way to get to his neck. His mouth latches there, sucking on the skin as
his palm drags up, sliding between Leo’s legs to cup and squeeze. “I’m in your
mind, after all,” he says against Leo’s neck. “But even if you’re mad, you’re
my favorite toy.”
 
That one line, that familiar one that he’s heard breathed in his ear back when
Eichi was alive and now even more, goes through Leo like a thunderclap of
arousal. He shivers, clinging to Eichi’s neck, wiggling to the side to rub his
ass against Eichi’s cock. “Th-then play with me,” he breathes, eyelids
fluttering.
 
“I will, I will. Damn it, stop squirming so much when you’re not even doing it
in the right spot,” Eichi complains, shrugging Leo’s hands off and firmly
manhandling him around, pulling Leo’s back to his chest instead. It makes it
much easier for Leo’s ass to rub back against the quickly hardening line of his
cock, and much easier for Eichi’s mouth to stay on his neck, sucking and biting
as his fingers drift upward, thumbs dragging over Leo’s nipples. “You’re so
much sweeter now,” he sighs. “Is it because you miss me? That’s cute.”
 
Leo reaches down, grabbing Eichi’s thighs between his for stability, arching
back into his touch. It plucks the strings of his body as if he’s a finely
tuned harp, making him writhe already, just at the touch to his chest. He
deliberately grinds down, letting Eichi’s cock drag on the cleft of his ass,
his mouth falling open just at that. “Don’t ask that,” he whispers, trying to
keep his mind on how full his body is about to feel, instead of how full his
soul feels. “J-just--nnh, your hands, is this how you play with your precious
toy?” Never mind that he’s on the verge of spilling against his own thigh just
from Eichi playing with his chest.
 
“If you want them somewhere else, you could ask nicely.” It’s hard for Eichi to
hold himself back, even as he says that. Leo’s nipples are hard underneath his
fingers when he pinches and pulls, and his own breath hitches as he buries his
face into Leo’s hair, inhaling deeply. “But even then, I’ll play with you
however I like,” he breathes, snagging an arm tightly around Leo’s waist to
haul him back as his hips rock up, grinding his cock against Leo’s ass, languid
in spite of how hard he is. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that, Le~o.”
 
Leo’s hips start bucking of their own accord, heat rising in him, head thrown
back to rest against Eichi’s shoulder. “I’m too hot,” he whines, hands
scrabbling at Eichi’s arms, clutching at his knees, his own thighs splayed wide
to let Eichi’s between them. “Nn--you always just--do whatever--you want with
me,” he pants, blinking tears out of his eyes. “When are you...when are you
going to...make good...on your promise, huh?”
 
“Hmm? Oh…” Eichi yanks Leo’s pants down enough to let them bunch around his
thighs, and reaches between them to tug his cock free with a soft, ragged
exhale. “You mean the one where I keep you underneath my desk? Like the cute
little pet you are? Go buy yourself a collar, and I’ll think about it. Ahh,
lean forward, and hand me the oil off the table,” he sighs, nuzzling into the
back of Leo’s neck, and planting a wet, sucking kiss there. “Then I’ll put it
in you.”
 
Leo leans forward, helpless, obedient, grabbing the oil that he keeps in an
easily accessible drawer. Izumi always uses the bottle by the bed, but Eichi--
this bottle, he keeps for Eichi, in his favorite scent. He’d bought it last
week, though he hadn’t been sure that it would follow him into this odd pseudo-
world where Eichi is still here, still touching him. It has, and he passes it
back, swallowing hard. “When you’re in me,” he breathes, eyes gleaming with
unshed tears, hips still rocking involuntarily, “I feel it
everywhere...especially in my nipples, I don’t...know why...what kind of
collar...”
 
Eichi uncorks the bottle with his teeth, pouring the slick oil into the palm of
his hand. “That’s the kind of thing a woman would say, you know,” he teases,
dragging his hand up the length of his cock with a hiss of breath before he
pushes Leo forward a bit more, enough to have a better angle. The head of his
cock rubs against that tight, twitching hole, and it takes effort to push it
inside. Eichi’s hands drag to Leo’s hips, pulling him down with a soft grunt of
effort, that initial push always the hardest, always enough to make colors
burst in front of his vision and leave him panting, only the first few
centimeters of his cock buried inside. “Buy yourself…a collar with your name
engraved in the tags,” he groans, leaning back and dragging Leo down. “Then we
can have some fun. Ah, fuck, you’re so…”
 
Leo whimpers, tears leaking from his clenched eyelids. His legs slip, thighs
trembling, hands scrabbling at the arms of the chair, trying desperately to
accommodate the stretch that he can just never seem to get used to. A sob
wrenches from his lips, and he twists, unsure if he’s trying to get away or get
more, somehow managing to squirm down, getting at least half of that thick cock
inside of him. “Y-you...could pull it,” he whines, letting his own hand come
up, toying and twisting his own nipple, leaving his whole body sparking. “Ch-
choke me with it...I never know...if you’re going to go...too far...”
 
Eichi’s breath stutters, and his hands tighten on Leo’s hips, yanking him back
and down hard, until the slap of skin against skin echoes in the room and Leo’s
attempts to wriggle away from him swiftly end. “That’s what you like the most,
isn’t it?” he pants out, leaning forward, his heels digging into the floor as
his hips arch up, grinding in slow and deep. Leo is painfully tight around him,
and at this angle, it feels like there’s not a single inch more that’ll fit.
Leaning forward, Eichi hooks his chin over Leo’s shoulder, his breath hot
against Leo’s cheek. “That I’ll do what I want with you…no matter what you say.
I know you can take it.”
 
“I-it’s so much!”
 
Leo’s voice breaks, and he keens, squirming around as much as he can when it
feels like Eichi’s stolen his very breath, when it feels like he’ll never be
able to breathe again. “I c-can--feeeeel you...all the way...”
 
He drops his hand, resting it on his belly, startled to find that he can feel a
slight hard bulge, from the thick head of Eichi’s cock stretching him from the
inside. That knowledge makes him sob again, and his cock starts to stream a
steady river of fluid, splashing over his thighs as he squirms helplessly.
 
Feeling Leo twitch and spasm and writhe on his lap makes Eichi’s last bit of
control snap. He buries his face into Leo’s neck, fingers gripping hard enough
to leave bruises in the shape of them as he thrusts up hard, fucking up into
Leo’s surprisingly pliant body. It’s always easier after Leo comes, or when
he’s still coming, in this case—like his body is a welcoming, hot hole just for
him to fuck, and gods, if that isn’t lovely.
 
Eichi’s teeth sink into Leo’s shoulder when he shoves up roughly and stays
there, muffling a deep groan as he comes, his cock pulsing inside and leaving
Leo slick, dripping. One of his own hands slowly moves from Leo’s hip, sliding
up to his stomach, pressing down mercilessly. “You’re so full, aren’t you?” he
rumbles, his hips giving a last little rock upwards, milking his own orgasm.
“Just the way you like it.”
 
Leo lets out a broken whine, shoving ineffectually at Eichi’s hand. Eichi is
always so much stronger than he anticipates, and just remembering that makes
his hole twitch with a stinging ache. Everything in him is far too full, and
Eichi pressing on him makes it so much worse. “Too much,” he whispers, turning
his face, hiding it in Eich’s chest as much as he can. “It’s just...there’s
so....much...of you....in me....”
 
“Good,” Eichi sighs, sagging back and loosening his grasp on Leo to instead
sling an arm about his waist, pulling him back against him. “That’s the way I
like it. You’re such a good boy, I like it when you squirm like that.”
 
Leo leans up suddenly, grabbing Eichi’s hair and yanking him down for a
bruising kiss, sliding his tongue into Eichi’s mouth. Eichi is so hot and hard
in him, but it always feels best this way, and he squeezes down deliberately.
“I don’t want it all to...come out,” he breathes. “So maybe you should
just...leave it in.”
 
Eichi’s groan is muffled against Leo’s mouth, and he fists a hand into his hair
in turn, holding him in place as he sucks on Leo’s tongue. “So much for being
king, then,” he murmurs. “Just sit on my lap and look pretty instead.”
 
Leo lets out a pleased little rumble, arching slightly, nuzzling into Eichi’s
hold. “Your pet,” he murmurs. “Next time...I’ll have the collar.”
 
“Good.” Eichi brushes Leo’s hair off the back of his neck, running cool fingers
affectionately down it, as if he’s petting a favorite lap dog. “I want another
way to make you squirm.”
 
“Leo.”
 
“Keep thinking about how nice it would be with me ruling this kingdom for you,
would you?”
 
“Leeeo.”
 
“And make sure to check in with…oh, what was his name, Lord—“
 
“Leo!”
 
Standing over him, hands on his hips, is Izumi, hair down and mussed from
sleep, nightshirt mostly unbuttoned. He scowls, placing a cool hand against
Leo’s forehead, trying to gauge if he has a fever. “You’ve been sleepwalking
again,” he softly scolds. “And you were muttering to yourself this time, too.
What is with you and this damned chair, do we need to have your mattress
replaced?”
 
Reality shifts in Leo’s so abruptly that for a good half minute all he can do
is stare, slack-jawed, at Izumi. Then reality sets in, and his heart feels
abruptly empty, as if half of it has been ripped away--
 
But it has, hasn’t it?
 
He trembles, and reaches up, grabbing Izumi and dragging him close. “You’d tell
me if I was insane,” he whispers, hands shaking. “Wouldn’t you?”
 
Izumi’s startled blink follows, but he allows himself to be pulled forward,
bracing a hand against the arm of the chair. “I…yes, of course,” he manages,
brushing back Leo’s sweat-soaked bangs from his forehead as he frowns down at
him. “Leo, what’s wrong? You look…” You look like you’ve seen a ghost.The
thought is unsettling, somehow, and Izumi hesitates, not entirely willing to
say it aloud. “Are you feeling all right?”
 
The dream fades, as it always does, and Leo starts to feel more anchored, more
grounded. He sucks in a deep breath, then climbs off the chair, ignoring the
twinge in his ass that he tells himself is all in his mind. “I’m fine, yeah!
Just...a bad dream. Hold me tight until you fall asleep, will you?”
 
Izumi says nothing for a moment, a frown on his lips all the same. “It’s
morning, you idiot,” he softly points out, taking one of Leo’s hands. “But if
you want to go back to bed, we can. I can go reschedule your morning. What kind
of bad dream?”
 
Leo looks up into Izumi’s face, letting some of the facade crumble away, eyes
searching. “Don’t...don’t you have them, too?” he asks softly. “If anyone in
this world did, I thought you...”
 
Izumi hesitates again, much more visibly this time. Of course he knows what Leo
means, but—“A wizard told me that talking about dreams like that gives them too
much power,” he quietly says, pulling Leo closer with a little tug. “I don’t
know if that’s true or not, but…”
 
Leo shudders in relief, and buries his head in Izumi’s shoulder. “Thank the
gods,” he whispers. “You’re not crazy. So I’m not either, right?”
 
“I…we might be a little crazy,” Izumi admits with a soft laugh, and backtracks
towards the bed, dropping down onto the edge of it. He pulls Leo with him, up
into his lap. “But between the two of us, we’re probably fine. You’re so
sweaty,” he absently complains, using the back of his sleeve to dab at Leo’s
face. “Are you sure you aren’t coming down with something?”
 
“Maybe I am,” Leo admits. He almost says something else, but that gives them
too much power, Izumi says, so he keeps his mouth shut, burrowing into Izumi’s
chest. “It’s different for you,” he says softly. “You’re stronger.”
 
“Bullshit,” Izumi mutters, setting his chin atop Leo’s head as he cradles him
against his chest, stroking a hand down his spine. “By default, I’m just more
high strung, so you expect me to be a complete idiot about this kind of stuff.”
 
Leo shakes his head fervently, hands fisted into Izumi’s loose shirt. “You are
stronger,” he insists. “You--you could go. But you’re here with me.”
 
Izumi chews on his lower lip, saying nothing for a long moment. “I don’t…think
that’s a matter of strength,” he finally settles upon, his mind racing
frantically as he tries to not think about what they’re actually talking about.
The more he thinks about it, the more it hurts, the more his heart pounds and
his mind won’t shut up about who is in High Harbor and not here, and—“Leo. I
love you. He…” Saying the name will make it worse. Even vaguely referring to
him will make it worse. “He doesn’t even remember me. It…it’s not even close to
the same.”
 
“I honestly don’t know what would be worse,” Leo admits on a whisper. Then he
pulls away, shaking his head. “I’m going riding. Like we used to, whenever
anything was...come on, I want to ride until I hurt everywhere.”
 
What are you dreaming about, anyway? Izumi aches to ask, but the troubling
thought that talking about it even more might actually do something to make
those dreams even worse makes him clam up and shut up. “Of course.” He grabs
his hair tie from the beside table, pulling the mess of it back before moving
to quickly dress. “You can step away completely today, if you want. I’ll handle
everything in your stead—if there’s anything you need me to particularly deal
with, just tell me.”
 
“Mm, yes, I’m stepping away from this whole slavery issue,” Leo says airily,
grabbing a tunic and breeches and yanking them on in record time. “I’ve
decided. The slavers think all my focus is on them, so they’re laying low. I’m
gonna turn my attention to the West--no one cares about the West, isn’t that
strange? Except for Ara, I love him!”
 
“Are you sure it’s wise to step away when we’ve go agents in the Sandlands
specifically because of the slavery issue?” Being particularly invested in that
doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the idea of ‘stepping back’, but…Izumi
bites his tongue, and finishes lacing up his breeches. “What about the West are
you focusing on instead? If it’s Arashi, help him get out of that marriage of
his.”
 
Leo raises an eyebrow, slipping on a pair of boots and starting to dance from
foot to foot. “I’m not really stepping away from it,” he says with a sigh.
“Obviously. But I’m stepping away publicly, so the slavers get sloppy and think
they’ve got it made. And in the meantime, I can help your friend. I’m focusing
on way more important things than just a marriage!”
 
“The marriage part is the important part right now,” Izumi mutters underneath
his breath, but lets it go and drops down onto the edge of the bed to yank his
boots on. A ride is the right idea; he can’t focus through the lingering
anxiety of his own restless night. “Right, what are you focusing on, then?”
 
“I’m going to beat up a legend.” Leo beams. “Wahaha!”
 
“Be more specific, or I’ll tie you to your throne and not let you do a damned
thing.”
 
That sends a shiver through Leo that he doesn’t bother to hide. “Huuuu--ahh,
all right! So, what do they teach you about the West up North? And the country
beyond?”
 
“Enough,” Izumi suspiciously replies, grabbing Leo by the back of his shirt to
steer him towards the door instead of turning into a shivery pile on the floor.
“Later, Your Majesty. You’re the one that wanted a ride. On a horse, damn it,
before your mind keeps wandering. What specifically do you need me schooled in
about the West?”
 
Leo grabs Izumi’s hand, veritably dragging him to the stables. He holds a
finger to his lips--this stuff is sensitive, after all--until they’re safely
astride horses, and heading out at a brisk trot. “So,” he continues, as if they
hadn’t paused, “there’s a legend that the Sharps are a gift from a very
powerful wizard--you know the story of Karukachi the Wise? No? Ahh, he was the
first Emperor. He was given the title because--okay, hold on, I have to go back
to the beginning. So, there are five plagues of beasts that come to us from the
land of Pits and Fire in the West, right? Ahhh, how much of this are you
getting?”
 
Izumi’s eyes aren’t glazing out of sheer will, and out of need to focus on his
obnoxious new horse as well. The pitch black mare is not his first choice, but
someone has to train the terrible creature, and he’s likely the only one
capable. “I’m following. I’ve heard some of this before, just not in-depth.”
He’s actually fairly certain this is a bedtime story Mika has told his
children, but it was much gorier.
 
Leo nods, satisfied with such a response. “Right, so there are five plagues.
The first are the Inglings. Then, if we don’t repel them when they’re weak, the
scripture says they send beasts low to the ground, with great horns and tails,
capable of killing any man, right? Sound like a snog? The third are great
creatures, with horns that reach up to the sky, incapable of being killed by
any man--sound like a berserker, right?”
 
“Sounds about right, yeah. So what’ve we got waiting for us for the fourth and
fifth? Something creepy-crawly from the Shadowlands?” Honestly, he tunes Mika’s
tall-tales out so much. “Sounds like something you should be asking Rei about,
honestly.”
 
Leo shakes his head, frowning. “No, the horrible things out of the Shadowlands
are a different legend. I’m talking about the West, you know! Next is the
creatures that eat magic, and then the ones that consume the very earth itself.
So it’s bad if we get to those, you know!” He beams. “But the thing is, a lot
of people forget the legends, you know? So they just think, well, the Inglings
are always there, and the snogs have been there for a while, too...you know,
the berserkers only showed up around a year before you rode West?”
 
“So we’re due for another wave of weird creatures coming to destroy the world
fairly soon, then,” Izumi wryly deduces, smacking his mare’s nose when she
tries to whip her head around and bite the toe of his boot for fun. “Magic-
eating creatures…sounds like any half-blood you’ll ever meet, but all right.
What do you propose we do to stop them from showing up in the first place?”
 
“That’s where it gets interesting.” Leo’s eyes shine, and he grabs Izumi’s
hand, steering him West, so they can look at the Sharps when they ride.
“Karakuchi the Wise, he saw the creatures, so he sent the biggest wall there’s
ever been, right? But the world-eaters, they were so large, they walked right
over it. So he and his council built the Sharps. That’s why they look so
unnatural, you know. They’d have their wizards stick a world-eater’s foot to
the ground, tripping him so he’d fall and impale himself on the mountains
themselves!”
 
Izumi’s eyebrows raise, predictably skeptical. “Sounds unlikely, but all
right,” he says. “If your solution is ‘build more Sharps’ and give some world-
eaters a few splinters in their feet because of it, I’m going to tell you to
think of something else, Your Majesty.”
 
“Wahaha! That would be great!” Leo chuckles to himself, imagining such a thing.
“Nah, I’ll save that for if we run out of other options. No, my point is
Karakuchi’s Legacy. It’s an old legend, but it was one of my favorites when I
was a kid. Wizard’s legends say that Karakuchi shattered the world, but left it
stuck together with magic, deep in the West. So if the magic-eaters return,
they’ll eat the magic bridge, and no more Inglings will be able to come, and
the world-eaters will fall to their deaths if they show up. Buuuuuuuut, the
last Emperor had a theory that in the thousand or whatever years since the last
time, the Inglings have degraded it somehow, and we’ll need to make a real big
boom in Ingling territory to make it all active again. A magic one. You still
following?”
 
“…I’m following,” Izumi slowly replies, frowning. “Specifically the big boom
part—are you suggesting we send wizards out there to rile things up? To my
knowledge, there aren’t that many wizards capable of such things, and…since
when do you know what the last Emperor’s theories are regarding this? You’ve
never mentioned it before.”
 
“Rei found a bunch of old diaries and theories of his in the Academy archives,”
Leo says, totally honestly. The lie is that he hadn’t read them, hadn’t wanted
to touch them, and had heard these theories from his vivid hallucinations at
night, but they’re not talking about that right now. “Looks like in Great-
Grandfather’s day, when the Inglings showed up again, they were very sanguine
about it being the obvious first wave of an obvious boom-conclusion, you know?”
 
“Mm. I see.” Izumi tries not to look annoyed, but the expression flickers
across his face nonetheless. “I wish you had mentioned that before. I could
have discussed it with Arashi directly, but…all right, so you need wizards to
make your boom-conclusion. That’s what I’m getting out of this. That certainly
would clear up the West pretty quickly, if it works.”
 
“Yeah!” Leo beams. “And, you know, we hope that that’s all it is. Because if it
turns out the Shadowlands really want to destroy us...well. It would be pretty
easy, you know? All they have to do is hold that one bridge.”
 
“If the Shadowlands wanted us dead, I feel like Ritsu or Rei would’ve mentioned
this by now. But,” Izumi begrudgingly admits, “it’s those two, so who even
knows. Right, anyway; are you proposing we send whatever wizards are capable of
this feat back out into the wilderness of the West? Because let me tell
you—unattended, wizards are pretty useless, every single last one of them.”
 
Leo shrugs. “I’m not proposing anything yet. Just telling you what we’re
dealing with so you’ll understand when I send someone really powerful into
enemy territory to make a big boom.”
 
“…Why this all of a sudden, is what I’m curious about,” Izumi finally says,
glancing down at his horse’s neck, smoothing down her mane. She tosses her
head, and he swears she growls. Why are Shadowlands horses so strange?“You
haven’t spoken about the West in months, and suddenly, this is what you have to
focus on. Did someone else mention it to you?”
 
Leo throws up his hands. “Something is being destroyed in this country every
twelve minutes,” he mutters. “I figured I should focus on something that has
the potential to wipe us out--ask Ara, I used to talk to him about this stuff
all the time, before I was King. He’s scared, too. I always said I’d get to the
bottom of the Ingling infestation, when I was crowned!”
 
“I’m not complaining about your desire to take action, just the thought that
someone else might be whispering ideas into your ear,” Izumi grumpily says,
glancing aside. “You have to be careful about who you listen to, Your Majesty.
Not everyone has your best interests at heart when it comes to risky plans like
this.”
 
Leo snorts. “Fat chance of that. There’s no one alive that even cares about the
West, not in the Capital. And you know that.”
 
“So you just woke up, and decided it was time to blow up something? I suppose
that isn’t entirely unlike you…” Izumi sighs, lifting a hand to rub at the
bridge of his nose. “Right, well. Forgive me, but I do like to keep an eye on
this sort of thing. You have a bad habit of listening to everyone’s point of
view, when that’s really not necessary.”
 
“A king who doesn’t listen to other people would be like Grandfather,” Leo says
grimly. “And a king that listens only to other people and not to himself would
be like Father. It...it isn’t easy, you know. And a lot of them would rather
have Father back. It’s hard to know that.”
 
“All I’m telling you to do is be careful with the advisors you keep—especially
if you’re chatting them up first and then coming to me with wild ideas. Aren’t
I supposed to be your first line of defense? Don’t tell me you simply woke up
with this mess in your head, I know you. Someone put it there in the first
place, that’s why I’m saying this now.”
 
“You don’t know that.”
 
Leo is sulking now, and knows it. “Don’t tell me what I think. Why is it a wild
idea to protect the West, huh? I just--when you wake up knowing that what
you’re doing isn’t going to work, you look for something that is!”
 
“It’s not a wild idea to protect the West, it’s wild to immediately come
spouting old fairy tales and…” Izumi trails off, frustrated. “If I’m wrong,
I’m…I’m sorry. But if I’m not, then it…bothers me, the idea of there being
someone else you’re talking to. This isn’t the first time you’ve had ideas like
this out of the blue, or news out of nowhere—the night you first had knowledge
about the renewed slave trade, for example.”
 
“Izumi.”
 
Leo steers Tempo closer, and grabs Izumi’s thigh, very intent. “I’m the King.
Sometimes I’m going to know things that you don’t. Sometimes I’m going to have
informants that you can’t know about. You say people are putting ideas in my
head--that’s what talking is! If someone tells you a good idea, keep it in your
head!”
 
Izumi’s mare immediately whips her head around to take a bite out of Tempo, and
Izumi’s foot catches her in the nose again. “I’m the captain of your guard,” he
lowly reminds Leo. “If you’re talking to ‘informants’ that I don’t know about
on the regular, I do need to know, for your own safety. That’s my job, lest you
forget. I respect your judgement as a leader, but you aren’t always the best
judge of character. Lending your ear to someone unsavory could be dangerous.”
 
“You might be captain of my guard, but that doesn’t mean you get to know
everything I do,” Leo says, with a real glare now. “You think Kuro knew
everything Father did, everyone he talked to? Not everyone in the capital will
talk to me if they know it’ll get back to you.”
 
“Kuro wasn’t fucking your father. And if he was, I don’t want to know about it.
Everyone should know it’ll get back to me, then they’ll be smarter about what
they have to say and not tell you theoretical bullshit that’ll get you killed
or ruin your reputation.” 
 
“Do you see a flaw in my plan?” Leo demands, fighting the urge to just ride
off, leaving Izumi behind with his frustration. “Or are you just angry because
I’m doing something that I want to do instead of something you want me to do?”
 
“I’m not—neither of those things! Leo, all I’m trying to do is…ugh, gods.”
Izumi scowls, tilting his head back to glare skyward. “Right, I’m jealous
there’s someone else that’s got your ear, obviously. Happy now that I said it?
I don’t know who they are, and fine, you don’t have to tell me, but that
doesn’t mean I want to slice them up any less.”
 
Leo stares at Izumi for a second, riled up beyond belief, unsure if he wants to
fight or scream or run or cry.
 
Then, abruptly, the sun comes out from behind the clouds in his eyes, and he
laughs. “Wahahaha! You still love me! I knew it!” He beams, so utterly pleased
that he looks as if he’s basking. “No one has my ear, just so you know. I’m
just smart. And I make split-second decisions. And sometimes answers come to me
when I’m sleeping. So don’t worry! I’m your King, and I always will be!”
 
Izumi sucks in a quick breath, stares over at Leo, and promptly reaches for the
sword at his hip. “I’ll kill you myself,” he cheerfully says, smiling. “Come
here.”
 
Absolutely unafraid, Leo stands in Tempo’s saddle, then gracefully hops over,
landing in front of Izumi, facing him, pressed chest-to-chest with a huge grin.
“I’m here. What are you going to do to your king, my beloved bastard knight?”
 
Izumi’s horse, unfortunately, is less familiar with Leo’s antics, and
immediately rears. Unimpressed, Izumi leans forward, grabbing Leo around the
waist to jerk him close, and waits for the creature to stop being such a moron.
“Kill you,” he deadpans, kissing Leo full on the mouth when his mare’s hooves
touch the ground again. “And you’d deserve it. You’re not smart, you’re a
complete idiot.”
 
Leo laughs, totally unfazed by the insane horse’s games, slinging his arms
around Izumi’s waist. “I’m a genius,” he insists. “I got you right where I want
you, and you’re a noted womanizer! Mm, we should go into the West, don’t you
think? Right now? Slip past all the Inglings and find the magic bridge. Or we
can go home and have breakfast, I think there are berries on oatcakes. Up to
you.”
 
“Catch up, genius. Nowadays, I’m not a womanizer, I’m only interested in men
and I absolutely roll over for you every single night.” Izumi reaches down,
giving Leo’s ass a pinch. “The only reason I’m going West right now is to help
rescue Arashi from the woman they’re trying to give him. You can have your
oatcakes, but we’re also going to talk about what wizards you think can
actually cause that much damage. Last I checked, the capable ones are off doing
other important missions.”
 
“Missions end,” Leo says, unconcerned. “I’ll ask Rei. Sometimes there are
wizards who are only good at one thing, you know? And if they find a young
couple who can do, yay! Boom!” He looks around, frowning. “What woman?”
 
“Follow along, Your Majesty,” Izumi wearily says, leaning sideways to grab
Tempo’s reins and haul him close when he contemplates wandering off to munch on
grass. “The woman Arashi has to marry. Apparently, she’s from the Hinterlands.
It’s a dreadful political mess and he’s going to kill himself by the end of it,
pretty sure.”
 
“Ahhh, you mean Honosha, the native girl?” Leo looks around, and nickers softly
at Tempo, who falls immediately into line. “She’s very nice, I think they’ll
get along quite well! I’ve met her, I wouldn’t have recommended the marriage if
I didn’t think it could work.”
 
Izumi’s mouth twists. “You’re vastly overestimating his ability to make that
kind of thing work,” he says. “At some point, give me leave to go up there and
help him before his wedding. I’m not entirely sure he’ll go through with it.”
 
Leo blinks. “Aren’t we going there now?” he asks, confused. “It’s not a far
ride.”
 
“You’re joking, right? Your Majesty, you wanted a morning ride, that’s what
you’re getting, not a day trip to the Sharps.”
 
“Ehhh? But I was going to be helpful, this was going to be great,” Leo
complains, though not very aggressively. Mostly, he’s content to be held,
content to be with real, vibrant, alive Izumi.
 
Even if he can’t feel every breath Izumi takes mirrored in his own soul.
 
Leo butts his head into Izumi’s chest, pushing that back out of his mind. “We
can come back when you want to,” he says, more quietly. “I haven’t forgotten
about him. He helped me a lot, and I feel like no money or titles or equipment
for his armies can repay him.”
 
“You’re right. He’s a good man.” Izumi tightens his arm around Leo’s waist,
giving him a gentle squeeze. “And I’m a shitty father for saying this, but I
thought about finally claiming my other bastard to offer him a bride that he
didn’t have to deal with right now,” he admits, heaving a sigh. “We can tell
him all day ‘oh, just get over it, you’ve only got to do it right once’—but
it’s not just that to him. He’d never want a woman to be unhappy with him, and
the whole concept of arranged noble marriages is so foreign to him, and…”
 
Izumi trails off, shrugging restlessly. “Sorry, I know I’ve harped on it
before. I…well. It’s hard not to worry about him in these situations.”
 
Leo hesitates. “I...I’m not sure how much more I can do,” he admits, “before I
get accused of favoritism based on his past loyalty. If he wants to stay a
noble but be freed of his obligations, I can name him to the Kingsguard, or
send him to work under Captain Morisawa. But then he wouldn’t have his
dominance anymore. And I can make laws, but I can’t change the customs in the
West, or make his people like him.”
 
“I know. I’m not asking you to change anything when that’ll just make things
worse, I’m just venting.” Izumi grumpily shifts, crushing Leo harder to his
chest. “He likes having his dominance too much, or…or he would’ve signed
everything up in the North to be considered my husband. So I suppose he’s
digging his own grave to an extent, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad for
him.” He pauses, and adds with a grimace, “And for Mika, if we’re getting
technical about it.”
 
At that name, Leo’s face falls dramatically. “He hates me,” he says, suddenly
miserable. “I tried really hard to get him to like me, I got candy, I tried to
talk to him a lot? But he hates me, he even told me he hates me.”
 
“What? He told you that?” Izumi blinks, leaning back to look down at Leo
properly. “I mean, he’s always, uh, nervous, with authority figures. Except
Rei, but that’s kind of different, I think. And he used to say that to me all
the time and try to cut my feet off. So I’d take it with a grain of salt,
honestly.”
 
“He said he thinks a snog would be a better king than me,” Leo says gloomily,
shoulders drooping. “And that I don’t deserve you.”
 
“Oh, gods,” Izumi mutters, glancing aside. “He’s still on that kick. Well, just
shrug it off. He’s a moody sort, and it takes him a bit to warm up to people.
What kind of candy did you try to give him?”
 
“Everything,” Leo says, thinking of the mountain that had been delivered.
“Everything I’ve ever heard of, from all the finest chocolatiers in the
Capital. I told them I was having a sweets party and just sent everything to
his room. I...I really want him to not hate me. It’s no good for me if one of
your other lovers doesn’t like me!”
 
He really likes cheap candy is on the tip of Izumi’s tongue, but deflating Leo
further in that regard isn’t something he’s interested in. “Did he…explicitly
say that he hates you? If the candy didn’t work…well, honestly, get him a pet
snog. Don’t take that seriously, just get him a plush or something. He’s
obsessed with the things, it’s weird.”
 
A fire starts behind Leo’s eyes. “A pet snog,” he repeats to himself, starting
to nod slowly. “A pet snog...a snog, that’s trained...as a pet....”
 
“No. Leo. I’m telling you right now, no.”
 
“Izumi.” Leo looks at him very seriously, taking his face in both hands. “You
can go get me a snog or I’ll go get one myself. I just want you to know that.”
 
“You are absolutely not going to go hunting a snog,” Izumi flatly says, batting
Leo’s hands away. “Especially not just to make Mika like you. Get him a
plushie, buy him that cheap candy kids love, but do not give him a snog. Arashi
will kill me if I let you give him a snog.”
 
“It’s not going to be a mean one!” Leo insists, a manic gleam lighting his
face. “We’re going to train it, until it’s really nice and well-behaved!”
 
“What part of Arashi will kill me do you not understand? All snogs are mean,
have you ever met one?!”
 
“Wahahaa! When would I meet a snog? I’m the king!”
 
“Exactly, let’s keep it that way! You are absolutely not allowed to go out
hunting snogs.”
 
“All right. Then you can get one for me! Get a small one--or, no, sometimes the
small animals are the mean ones, get a REALLY BIG ONE!”
 
“No. Listen to your knight for five seconds, no, no, no. Not only am I not
doing it for your sake and mine as well, but I’m not doing it for Mika’s,
because he will die.”
 
“No. No, Izumi, he’ll love me.” Leo beams. “When has anyone else ever done
anything so big for him, huh? Hahaha! Agree now or I’m going to get one
myself!”
 
“Pretty sure you don’t want to start that pissing match with Shu and Arashi,
but all right,” Izumi mutters, heaving a long sigh as he stares skyward. “If
you can’t tame the damned thing within two weeks, you are not putting it
anywhere near him. Understand?”
 
“All right,” Leo says solemnly. “I swear I won’t let him near it until I have
it trained.”
 
“And do not let word of this get to Arashi. He’ll run you through. All of his
men have standing orders to not let Mika anywhere near snogs.”
 
“That part is easy! He’ll be busy getting married, right?” Leo nearly vibrates
in the saddle, entirely excited. “Izumi. This is going to be so good.” Maybe
this will be what he needs, a concrete and physical task to keep him from
drifting so badly.
 
“Is it?” Izumi grumbles, unimpressed still with the idea of Leo chasing after
snogs, but if he’s following along, at least Leo will be kept safe. “You must
really want him to like you.”
 
“Yep! It’s been keeping me up at night,” Leo assures him. “Seriously. I wished
him good luck on the way to the South, and he just snarled at me? Grr, where
does he get off? I can’t stand it if someone so important to you hates me!
Especially when I think he’s so interesting and good!”
 
“…You know he’s just scared of you, right? Because you were the prince, and now
you’re the king, and you—“ Were Eichi’s bonded. Izumi’s mouth snaps shut as he
fumbles to think of anything else to put there, and he settles upon, “And
because you’re loud. He’s just sensitive, think how Shu reacts to loud noises.”
 
“But Shu likes me just fine!” Leo protests, face falling again. “I even wrote
him a song--two songs, one to sing and one that I was going to sing to him. No
one has ever hated me after I did that, but...he just said it was ‘fine I
guess’ and shut the door in my face!”
 
“The more I hear about this, the more I’m just convinced you’re coming on too
strong.” The realization that Mika is absolutely snippy with Leo because
of…past associations, however, makes Izumi uneasy. This isn’t going to end
well, even with a snog. “When he gets back from the Sandlands, you’re going to
let me have a talk to him first, all right? Before you try to shove a snog at
him. Assuming we have a snog to shove.”
 
“We will have a snog. But Izumiiiii, that’s just going to make it worse, I know
that now.” Leo truly, he feels, is enlightened now. “He thinks I make you work
too hard. So making you be a go-between would be even worse, don’t you think?”
 
“I do work too hard, and I want to go to bed, but that’s not your fault, which
is something he needs to hear from me,” Izumi patiently says, lifting a hand to
flick a strand of Leo’s hair out of his face. “He’s a weirdo, Leo. Weirder than
you, even. You have to handle him carefully.”
 
“Nah, I just need to talk to him on his level,” Leo decides. “And the best way
is definitely with a snog as a pet. He’s going tolove it. Can you have one by
the end of the weekend, do you think? I’ve got some plans this weekend dealing
with some of my, ah, least favorite members of court, some of whom don’t like
the North at all, so I wanted you out of the way anyway.”
 
Izumi’s jaw tightens immediately. Without naming names, even just the thought
of the men involved sets his nerves on edge, and he shifts unhappily, leaning
back in the saddle. “I’ll need to go to High Harbor to pick up a few things
from the wizard’s research guild; I’m not catching the thing with my bare
hands. But fine, I’ll be out of the way.”
 
One look at Izumi’s face tells Leo that he understands what Leo had been trying
not to say. Damn. “So much for trying to be subtle,” he sighs. “I’ve gotten rid
of all the ones you pointed out, but their associates and successors
aren’t...exactly your biggest fans, for some reason, which just means I have to
be careful. But anyway! A snog, please.”
 
“Tell me about it,” Izumi mutters underneath his breath, and bites his tongue
after that. ‘Not exactly his biggest fans’—the understatement of the century,
considering it’s disgustingly public knowledge that he’s the reason behind the
subsequent banishment, execution, or continued fleeing of a large number of
influential noble families. It’s best not to choose now to get into a heated
discussion about how he goes out of his way to avoid all of them, and they
still continue to harass him whenever the opportunity presents. “I’ll see what
I can do. Snogs don’t exactly come running when I call.”
 
Leo pats his hand firmly. “I have complete faith in you,” he says seriously.
“Give Captain Morisawa my regards or whatever too, all right? That guy’s got a
thick skull and he likes little kid books too much, but the coast has never
been safer, I guess!”
 
“Be nice, my kids like those stupid books, too.” Izumi whips his horse around
when the path starts to split, heading back towards the capital proper. “I’ll
leave tonight. Unlike someone I know, I can’t just run out on half my duties to
go shoot things.”
 
“I mean, I’m sure I’m not supposed to,” Leo concedes. “The thing about being
king is, everything might be your fault, but they’re sure as hell going to wait
for you to come back before starting without you!”
 
“I’m shoving you off my horse now. And I’m only warning you because I don’t
trust this fucking monster of an animal and I don’t want you to get kicked in
the face.”
 
“Maybe it would improve my looks!”
 
Izumi snorts, and promptly makes good on his word, shoving Leo to the side and
out of the saddle. His mare bolts as predicted, and Izumi reins her in
irritably, at least satisfied with her not kicking out to undoubtedly kill his
obnoxious king. “You’ve got a perfectly fine face, it’s your personality that
makes me want to punish you. Ugh, get on your horse and ride back with me, make
Tempo teach this beast how to be a proper creature.”
 
Leo flips up backward, yanking himself one-handed onto Tempo with strength that
he very rarely shows off. “You can’t expect to train her until you name her,”
he informs Izumi firmly. “She won’t respond otherwise. Mark my words, the first
thing I do with our snog will be to name it.”
 
Izumi struggles not to stare—and by extension of that, become more than
slightly turned on. He looks firmly away, sucking in a sharp breath to steady
himself. “She only answers to one name, and it’s not exactly flattering.”
 
“Eh? What name? Is it Lucinda? She kinda looks like a Lucinda...”
 
“I wish. Ritsu handed me her reins and told me he called her Bitch.”
 
Leo scowls. “That guy would do something like that. That’s just disrespectful!
How would you react if I...never mind. Knowing you, you’d probably like it.”
 
“You know, I didn’t do anything to be called out like this, Your Majesty.”
 
“Wahaha! It’s true, isn’t it?” Leo beams over at Izumi from Tempo’s saddle,
giving Izumi a wink. “You want me to flip you over tonight? You’ve got a kinda
look in your eye.”
 
Izumi’s lips part, then he scowls, glowering over at Leo. “I can’t go to High
Harbor, chase down snogs, and be back here before you collapse face down in
bed, Your Majesty. The answer is ‘yes’, but I can’t do all of those things.”
 
Leo huffs, but doesn’t look terribly upset. “All right, ride away. The spot
next to me will be empty when you get back, you know!” As long as I’m awake.
 
“Warm it with a cat, at least.” Izumi sighs, leaning sideways to ruffle Leo’s
hair. “I dislike being apart from you. Who knows what trouble you get into when
I’m gone.”
 
“You’ll just have to come back and find out.” Leo butts his head against
Izumi’s hand, then says softly, “I want you to go and not be worried about me.
So believe me when I say I’m stable and competent, okay?”
 
“I believe you.” Izumi’s expression turns wry as he rubs Leo’s head, and gently
tucks a strand of his hair out of his face and behind his ear before pulling
away. “That doesn’t stop me from worrying about you, though. Nothing you say
can change that.”
 
Leo turns his head, managing to press a swift kiss to Izumi’s palm before he
pulls it away. “I don’t want you to stop worrying completely, you know! That’s
like wishing for you to be someone else. And I like you best as Izumi.”
 
“Then lucky you, that’s who I am.” Izumi glances away before he can crack a
smile, and properly picks up his horse’s reins again. “Wanna know the one
lovely thing about Shadowland horses?”
 
“They have nine nipples?”
 
“What? No. Gods, what’s wrong with you? They’re really fucking fast and because
of that weird nipple comment, I’m not even giving you a head start.” Izumi
blows him a kiss before spurring his mare forward, something she eagerly jumps
to the task of. “Later, Your Majesty!”
 
***** Chapter 29 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
From the Capital to High Harbor, it should be a solid day to two day ride, for
any sane person. Lord Izumi of the Northern Sena House, unfortunately, feels
anything but sane. 

He rides, annoyed, breakneck, on a horse that he still isn’t particularly fond
of yet. Vale’s lameness is another stressor on top of what feels like
thousands, and an uppity, green mare from the Shadowlands is supposed to be
fun, not an additional frustration. 

Instead of a day’s ride, it’s about half, and he arrives just before the sun
starts to rise. He shoves the still-riled, still insane mare into the stables
with a note left tacked for the stablehand (DON’T TOUCH, it’s not worth your
hands), and sets off to his real destination. 

The window to the Captain of the High Harbor Guard’s quarters is left open, and
Izumi hauls himself inside, only the sound of his boots quietly thumping on the
floor echoing about the room before they’re off, and he crawls into bed,
directly underneath the thin sheets next to one very, very warm body. 


Captain Morisawa of High Harbor’s Powerful Burning Defense Force, also known as
the City Guard to people with no imagination, turns over restlessly in his
sleep. His Instinct upon feeling someone cold next to him is to curl around it,
burrowing his face into the figure’s neck. He smells fresh ice and something
soft and cool, the barest hint of warmth under the ice belying the cold
exterior. He inhales deeply, and curls his arms around the toned back. “Need to
warm up?” he asks, still drowsy. His eyelids open a slit, and despite the
sleepiness in his voice, there’s a lively spark in his eyes.

“You feel like a warming stone.” Izumi hands--probably obnoxiously cold, but
whatever--slide up underneath Chiaki’s nightshirt and along his back. “Sorry.
It’s early, you can go back to sleep.” 

Chiaki doesn’t even shiver, just nuzzles under Izumi’s ear. “I was about to get
up and go for a run,” he murmurs, nodding at the breaking dawn outside. “But
I’ll skip a day if you’re here.”

His hands slide down, rubbing gently at Izumi’s legs. “Hard ride?”

“You’re too dedicated,” Izumi groans, arching forward in spite of himself,
slinging a long leg over Chiaki’s hip. “Hard ride. From the capital, all night.
Stupid new horse, too.” His fingers curl against the hard muscle of Chiaki’s
back, his nails scraping gently. “I feel bad.” 

“That won’t last.” Chiaki’s voice is low and confident, and he rubs gently at
the big muscles in Izumi’s thighs, marveling privately at their power. He turns
his face, feels it rasp against Izumi’s chest, and pulls back sheepishly.
“Sorry. I can shave first, if you--”

Izumi shivers hard, and his nails drag up through Chiaki’s hair, rougher this
time. “No. It’s fine.” Admitting that he likes it is easier said than done;
Arashi has beaten that reaction out of him several times over. “I really needed
out of the capital for a day.” A day is about all he can manage at this point,
unfortunately. 

“Then I’m at your service.” 

Chiaki’s voice is softer than most of his soldiers would ever have believed.
Many times, he’s heard them speculate that he was born shouting, and probably
even snores loud enough to shake the rafters. In the quiet morning like this,
though, it’s easy to be soft and dreamy, touching Izumi’s skin with careful,
warm hands, seeing if he can ease any of that tension. “What do you need?”

Death, is the first dark thought that Izumi comes up with, but he squashes that
down with Chiaki’s distracting, warm hands, savoring the worn callouses and
easy strength in each touch. Izumi shifts, undoing the fastenings of his own
shirt to shrug it off before he squishes himself closer to Chiaki, nuzzling his
face into his hair. “That’s a bad question,” he grumbles. “Just spoil me, I’ll
tell you if I hate it.” 

“Mm, very well.”

Chiaki rolls them over, pressing Izumi gently back to the bed. Then he tugs the
thin blanket he sleeps with over both of them, and disappears under it,
nuzzling his way down Izumi’s chest and belly, trying not to let his stubble
rasp too much against sensitive skin. His hands ease down Izumi’s riding
breeches, and he mouths over one sharp hipbone, grateful for the concealing
darkness. He isn’t ashamed, but there’s something intimate about doing this in
the dark, instead of the exposing light.

Izumi exhales a long, hitching sigh, his fingers twisting up through Chiaki’s
hair all the more. “You don’t...have to be careful,” he breathes, his eyes
lidding as his legs spread. The occasional, rough drag of Chiaki’s stubble on
his skin makes him shiver and twitch, his toes curling. “I like the way it
feels.” It reminds me that you’re a man, he almost says, but bites back, not
quite relaxed enough to start running his mouth. 

Chiaki hums a little, but doesn’t offer further commentary. If Izumi really
wants it a certain way, or really hates something, he’ll make it known. He’s
just that kind of a man. His hands spread out on Izumi’s thighs, slowly working
at the muscles, relaxing and soothing as he drags his tongue over the underside
of Izumi’s cock. As usual, one taste isn’t enough, and he exhales deeply,
sucking the head into his mouth, grabbing Izumi’s firm ass with both hands,
drawing him in.

Izumi groans, reflexively clamping a hand down over his mouth before he
remembers--this isn’t the capital, this isn’t the palace, I’m not with the
king, who the fuck cares? That sends such a shudder of relief through him that
he slumps down, dropping his hand again with a ragged little exhale, reaching
down underneath the blanket to fist his fingers into Chiaki’s hair again. His
cock twitches, dripping over Chiaki’s tongue with just that little stimulation.
“I...ahh...I might be fast, sorry--” It doesn’t matter, but still. 

The back of Chiaki’s head rubs against the thin blanket. He sucks hungrily,
losing himself in the sensation. This is something he never gets to enjoy
anymore, not since Kanata returned to the sea and his other form full-time, and
a little groan of appreciation is all that makes its way through his nose. It’s
wet and sloppy, with no one looking, and Chiaki keeps his eyes closed even in
the darkness, only feeling the bitter salt flavor on his tongue, the pulse
pounding through Izumi’s thin skin, the squish of Izumi’s ass in his hands.
He’s panting, a little, but no one can see him, so it doesn’t matter.

Izumi whimpers, his hips arching up and off the bed when Chiaki’s mouth so
eagerly sucks him in. His fingers twist and pull on Chiaki’s hair as his hips
roll up helplessly, his cock throbbing against that hot tongue with every slide
of it against him. Everything’s almost too hot, too overstimulating after such
a long ride, after a week that has tipped him on the verge of going insane,and
for a moment, it’s too much and he can’t breathe. 

But Chiaki keeps making those sounds, and that’s so good that Izumi loses
himself with a low, broken noise almost immediately, spilling down Chiaki’s
throat with only one more thrust of his hips. He shudders hard, twisting to
bury his flushed face into the sheets. “You’re...gods, you’re so fucking hot,
come up here,” he groans, giving Chiaki’s hair a tug. 

Chiaki crawls up, cheeks flushed, lips a bit swollen, a little smile playing on
his face. He reaches for a glass of water on the nightstand, taking a gulp and
swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing. “You can kiss me now, if you
want,” he offers, wiping at his chin.

“You don’t have to wash it down, asshole,” Izumi mutters, grabbing for Chiaki
again and pulling him down for exactly that purpose, his tongue immediately
shoving past those swollen lips. He arches up off the bed with a sigh, still-
trembling thighs spreading a bit more to wrap around Chiaki and draw him back
between them. “You’ve got me warmed up now, you can do whatever you want.” 

“I want to make you feel good.” Chiaki says it, but he feels a bit less
altruistic than usual, twining his body with Izumi’s slowly-warming limbs. He
braces his knees on the bed, just between Izumi’s knees, and starts slowly
grinding his cock against Izumi’s hip, breath catching in his chest. “Have you
healed from your long ride yet?” he asks, voice rough to obscure the real
question. Can I take you roughly without hurting you?

“The second you swallowed me down, my aches and pains were healed,” Izumi
breezily replies, his fingers dragging down Chiaki’s spine. He sucks in a sharp
breath when his cock gives an eager, reawakening twitch, just to remind him
he’s really quite far from done, and he lurches up again to kiss Chiaki,
sucking on his tongue. 

Izumi is a good kisser. Chiaki loves being kissed by someone who knows what he
wants and is willing to fight for it, and he returns it passion for passion,
pressing Izumi down into the mattress, his slick cock shifting to drag over
Izumi’s hole a few times, his precome making it slick and sticky all at once.
“There’s--ah, it’s in the dresser, I don’t use it often, hold on--”

Just put it in anyway! Izumi wants to hiss, but he wants to feel good, and
that’s a poor idea for both of them, anyway. Still, he’s loathe to let Chiaki
go for a long moment, kissing him hard and deep as he groans into his mouth,
arching down to feel the press of Chiaki’s cock against his hole, feeling it
slide sticky and hot against his skin. “Should start keeping it closer to the
bed,” he grunts when he finally releases Chiaki’s mouth and flops back with a
huff. “Don’t I visit enough?” 

Chiaki moves like lightning to the dresser, rifling through it for a moment
before bringing out a tightly corked flask of oil. He wriggles the cork free
with his teeth, then crawls back onto the bed and covers Izumi’s body with his
own, claiming his lips in another kiss, nipping at his bottom lip. Izumi likes
it sudden and fast, and Chiaki doesn’t waste time slicking up his cock, moving
to kiss Izumi’s neck. 

If he’s being honest, he’s doing it more for himself than for Izumi. He hungers
for this kind of coupling, more than he’d ever admit to himself, hungers for a
partner who wants to be taken hard and fast with nothing between them, both
riding the wave of pleasure as far as it will go. With that in mind, he
positions himself carefully, then thrusts in, sliding in deep with a rough
breath against Izumi’s ear. “So sweet inside,” he breathes, eyes closed
tightly, savoring the sensation.

Izumi’s back arches clear off the bed, his heels digging into the mattress as
his breath leaves in a rush. “Fuck,” he gasps, his nails raking red lines down
Chiaki’s back as he reflexively squeezes down, a ragged groan caught in his
throat at how much Chiaki is when he’s suddenly and completely inside of him.
His thighs shake before they clamp around Chiaki’s waist, his own cock
throbbing where it’s trapped between them. It’s satisfying to be full, and
Izumi’s head falls back as he pants open-mouthed towards the ceiling.
“Just...mnn, like that, fuck me...” 

Just now, Chiaki doesn’t feel like admonishing Izumi for language. It would
feel silly when it makes him even harder, swelling and aching inside Izumi’s
body. Words fail him for a moment, and he just groans, burying his face in
Izumi’s shoulder, hands braced on the bed to give him proper leverage, rocking
in and out in a pace that feels like heaven, savoring the squeeze of Izumi’s
ass around him. He usually prides himself on being a gentle, careful lover, but
Izumi never seems to care whether he uses sweet words or not, whether he takes
his time or not. Izumi is by far the most honest lover he’s ever had, taking
what he wants and disappearing afterward, urging Chiaki to do the same. “You
feel,” he starts, and loses his train of thought, hips snapping in deep as he
groans again at the tight friction, made easy by the oil.

Izumi’s breath hiccups. “Yeah,” he says, agreeing mindlessly to whatever Chiaki
was going to say. A compliment, definitely. His nails rake down, grabbing for
Chiaki’s ass and squeezing when he thrusts in deep, and he wriggles down in
kind, a dark flush rising to his cheeks when Chiaki’s cock rubs and presses
deep inside at the perfect angle. A trickle of sweat drips down from his
hairline, and Izumi sucks in a hard breath as he melts into the bed, letting
himself be shoved and pulled and held down. “Fuck, you’re so...” 

“You, too,” Chaiki moans. He drives in deep again and again, hips moving on
their own, blindly seeking after that pleasure that always feels elusive until
he finds it. It’s always easy to find with Izumi. Everything is always easy
with Izumi. 

His hands move as if on their own, grabbing for Izumi’s and pinning them down
to the bed, mouth finding Izumi’s neck as he pumps in hard. He presses kiss
after sucking kiss to that pale flesh, watching wine-colored spots bloom in his
wake. His teeth rasp against Izumi’s ear, and he breathes, “Take it,” not quite
knowing what he wants it to mean.

Izumi swallows audibly, the shudder that rakes through him making him tremble
and tighten down, even as he goes almost obediently limp and pliant. “W-
whatever you want,” he rasps, his hands uselessly curling into fists when he’s
pinned, held down, fucked--something that’s exactly out of his
simplestfantasies, but so satisfying that just hearing those words whispered in
his ear makes his cock throb and twitch, spilling again between them, sticky
and hot. He whimpers, his head falling back again, his toes curling as his legs
slide further up Chiaki’s sides, trying to hold onto him with just his thighs. 

The permission makes Chiaki shiver, wriggling in Izumi’s grasp as he rocks in
harder, feeling his cock start to spill with each shove. It seems to go on
forever, slowly building to a white-hot crescendo that wrings him out, makes
colors burst behind his eyes, makes him slam in so deep that there’s no space
at all between them and hold. “Please,” he pants, voice ragged, not knowing
what he’s asking for now either, only knowing that he wants to stay like this
as long as possible.

Izumi’s chest heaves, the tremors that still rake through him and down to his
toes making his legs start to cramp, but he doesn’t let up, not when he can
still cling to Chiaki with his legs and feel that incredible heat and closeness
between them. “G-good, isn’t it?” he breathes, his lashes fluttering when he
feels the slick mess inside of him mixing with that oil, and Izumi squirms,
just enough to force his body to clench down. It’s uncomfortable and makes him
ache, and that’s very satisfying. “Ahhh...don’t pull out, stay like this, I’m
so full...” 

Chiaki nods, tucking his face into Izumi’s neck, slowly drawing in breath as
his chest presses against Izumi’s. “If you didn’t finish,” he mumbles, after
he’s taken enough air in to feel human again and not like a sack of hormones,
“you can have me, if you give me a moment. Unless you need a snack first?”

“Sounds like a lot of work right now,” Izumi grouses, flopping a freed arm over
Chiaki’s sweaty back. His other hand wriggles in between them and comes out
sticky, which Izumi quickly takes care of with a flick of his tongue to his own
fingers. “I’m good. Eating also sounds like work, just lie here with me.” 

Chiaki smiles, and snuggles down, still buried deep inside Izumi. “Let me know
when you want it out,” he offers. “I know it’s annoying that it doesn’t get
soft very quickly.” After that, he just slumps down, letting his eyes drift
closed. Izumi is a good nap partner, and if he’s going to take the day off of
running, he might as well enjoy the break.

“That part’s fine, you’re--ugh, don’t fall asleep, you’re the worst,” Izumi
grouses, but his complaints aren’t exactly insistent, and he settles down,
sated and content enough for now to relax and sleep, at least for a few hours. 

When he wakes up again--from one of the longer sleeps he’s had, how pleasant--
Chiaki is still on him, in him, and that’s nice, but distracting. 

Izumi shifts, shoves, and rolls Chiaki onto his back, neatly straddling him. He
leans down, nipping lightly at the lobe of his ear. “It’s the afternoon,
Captain,” he rumbles, his voice low and rough from disuse. “I have places to
be, but you’re still in me...” 

Chiaki scratches at his chin, blinking sleepily up at Izumi, a little smile on
his lips. “No one has banged down my door yet,” he points out, hands moving up
to Izumi’s waist. “I value honesty and urgency in my teammates. If something
were important, someone would knock. Are your places...urgent?” He gives an
experimental twitch of his hips, rolling them slowly against Izumi’s soft skin.

Yes, a little, obnoxious voice in the back of his head says, but Izumi breathes
in deep, and forcibly ignores it. It’s easier, when Chiaki’s hands slide
against his skin and Chiaki moves inside of him again. “Not...yet,” he settles
upon, pulling free the already thoroughly loose and useless tie in his hair,
letting it spill forward over his shoulders when he leans down again to steal a
slow, wet kiss. He moves, a languid, slow roll of his hips. “But you don’t get
me all day...so make use of me now, or else.” 

Chaki nods, sucking on Izumi’s tongue, glad to feel the heat burning in Izumi
again after the cold has been driven back. Izumi needs this more than he likes
to admit--And so do I, he admits to himself in the privacy of his mind. “You
don’t need to threaten me,” he murmurs, thumbs tracing circles on Izumi’s hips
as he flexes up. “I love being with you like this.”

“N-not a threat, just...ahh...you...” Izumi’s hands briefly tremble as he
searches for more balance, sliding up from Chiaki’s chest to brace on either
side of his head, his fingers digging into the mattress. “I don’t know when I
can be back again,” he breathlessly admits, color quickly returning to his face
when he grinds himself down, slow and easy until he feels Chiaki’s cock start
to harden further inside of him. The muscles in his thighs twitch and bunch,
overly tense when he’s so eager for more. “So...I want...” 

Chiaki reaches up, cupping Izumi’s face in one hand. “You don’t owe me
anything,” he says softly. “You never do. So take what you want.”

Izumi licks his lips, staring back down at him for a moment before he groans,
sagging down onto trembling arms. “Quit it, I toldyou,don’t say shit like that
when I’m hard,” he groans, shoving his face into Chiaki’s neck and nuzzling up
into it. Chiaki’s stubble still burns delightfully, and he hopes his skin is
coming away red because of it. “All my wires get crossed up and I’ll start
fucking crying or something, just pet me and tell me I’m pretty instead.” 

Chiaki laughs, a rich and hearty sound that reverberates through his chest as
he runs his hands up Izumi’s waist, down to his thighs, then up again to his
hips, holding and stroking before he grips a little harder, just enough to keep
Izumi in place. He rocks his hips up over and over, filling Izumi gently with
every slow grind. “I’m grateful you’re here,” he says honestly. “And I love the
way you move with me. And I think you’re a good person.”

“Fuck you, tell me I’m pretty or I’m climbing off you,” Izumi whimpers, though
there’s absolutely no real threat behind those words, especially when he’s
breathless and grabbing instead for Chiaki’s shoulders as he bends forward,
panting and lending himself to the rock of Chiaki’s hips and the pull of his
hands. Chiaki’s cock is so hard and so perfectly thick, making him tremble and
squeeze down with every easy, rolling grind. His face buries into the side of
Chiaki’s neck, his mouth attacking his throat, sucking and gently biting when
Chiaki slides up so perfectly into him that it makes his breath hitch. 
 
“I think you’re very pretty,” Chiaki says, trying to sound serious, but he has
to stop, his voice hitching into a groan when Izumi slides down so far there’s
nothing between them, not even air. “Maybe--maybe that’s just, just because I
like you so much, but--ah, you’re very good at this...”
 
That’s good enough that Izumi is satisfied, but he still bites again, a long,
sucking one to the arc of Chiaki’s throat as he just grinds down for a moment,
savoring how full he is with a muffled little groan. His cock aches between his
legs, dripping onto Chiaki’s stomach as he rocks up onto his knees only to
slide completely down again, his thighs trembling with the pleasant strain of
having to work for what he wants. “You,” he pants out, grabbing for one of
Chiaki’s hands to pull it up to his nipples, “feel so nice.”
 
Chiaki moves his other hand up too, dutifully following orders, rubbing and
tugging gently at first, then harder when it becomes apparent that’s what Izumi
wants. Like this, he’s powerful. Like this, he never has to worry that
everything will go wrong, that he’ll fail and let someone down, because Izumi
always likes this, and likes to make him feel good, too. The lack of pressure
involved is more of an aphrodisiac than any other part of their meeting, and
Chiaki’s eyes go dark with desire, mouth opening on words he’d never usually
say. “I don’t think anyone could ride me like you,” he whispers, flicking a
thumbnail over one nipple. “Like you were born to it, you’re so tight--”
 
Getting Chiaki to the point of saying anything remotely filthy is always an
accomplishment. Izumi’s mouth falls open, his back arching to press himself
further into Chiaki’s tugging, teasing fingers as he lifts a hand to rake his
hair back from his face, the aching grind of his hips refusing to let up when
it feels so good. “Y-yeah, I’m made for it,” he breathes, his eyes lidded and
dark as he deliberately rocks down with the rise of Chiaki’s hips, letting his
cock sink in as deep as it can, as hard as it can. “Made for you—it fits in me
so well, I need it…”
 
“I’m not sure,” Chiaki breathes, entranced by Izumi’s movements. It’s more like
a dance performance, like art to be marveled at, than it is for plain men like
him to enjoy. Yet he’s here, and Izumi is here, and he somehow gets to watch
this, something he takes full advantage of, eyes drinking in each tensing,
undulating muscle. “N-not sure it fits, it’s...it looks like it’s, maybe, too
much for you...”
 
“It f-fits, but—it’s…it’s a lot, like this…” Izumi’s breath hitches up in his
chest, and he grabs for one of Chiaki’s hands again, guiding it down, around,
to where they’re connected when he sinks down again, biting his lip. “You can
feel how…how tight it is there,” he pants out, sagging forward a bit again, a
few of the longer strands of his hair sticking to Chiaki’s chest. “Even after
you being in me all night, it’s still…”
 
“Still a lot,” Chiaki finishes for him, eyes wide and intent, serious and
focused despite how much his body craves more. He lets one hand trace the edge
of Izumi’s hole for a moment, then brings it up to grab Izumi’s hair, holding
him down, that intense focus of his all brought to bear on Izumi. Hunger and
pleasure build together, melding in the heat inside him, until all he can do is
slam up harder, hands easily holding Izumi in place. “Now you’re--properly
warmed up,” he grunts, hearing the slap of their bodies together, perversely
liking it.
 
Izumi bites down on a curse, the burn on his scalp when his hair is pulled
mixed with how hard Chiaki grabs at him, how easily Chiaki holds him down and
uses him, makes his cock twitch hard, threatening right at the edge. Even his
nipples ache from how hard they are, and his lower lip trembles as he lends
himself to Chiaki’s pulling, bending to the yank on his hair, squirming to
better set his knees into the bed when Chiaki ruts up into him. “Come in me
again,” he helplessly begs. “I w-want…want to feel it all day, nothing else is
gonna keep me warm, so please—“
 
“Y-your--”
 
Your wish is my command,Chiaki wants to say, but there’s no getting the words
out when Izumi is writhing on him like that, saying things like that, and he
loses himself in the sensation, bucking up to spend himself deep inside Izumi’s
body. He grabs Izumi’s hips, holding him down, eyes bright as he rasps, “It’s
still...in there, isn’t it? From last night? N-now there’s--ahhh, there’s more,
all for you--”
 
Izumi bites into his lower lip, his brow knitted as he tries, desperately, to
hold back, to better enjoy how it feels when Chiaki comes in him, grabbing at
him roughly with those strong, warm hands of his. He manages to feel those
first few hot, slick pulses of Chiaki’s cock before he sobs, clamping a hand
over his own mouth to keep back the sound when he spills, dripping over
Chiaki’s stomach. “F-fuck, there’s a lot,” he manages to pant out, tears
pricking into the corners of his eyes at the vague sting, the slickness that
threatens to drip out of him when he doesn’t clench down around the thick cock
still stuffed up inside of him as far as it’ll go. “You’re…so…so good, you
always make it feel good…”
 
He slumps forward, face stuffed into the side of Chiaki’s neck. “P-pet me.”
 
One hand comes up, still strong despite how wrung out Chiaki feels, petting
over Izumi’s sweat-damp hair. “There, there. You did so well, you know...ahhh,
just let me hold and touch you for a while, do you need me to pull out?”
 
“No. Not yet.” There’s something incredibly soothing about all of this—no
obligations to anything except feeling good, no expectations except to be
petted—and Izumi slowly settles down with a shuddering breath, still wincing a
bit at how full he feels, but enjoying it all the same as he buries his face
down into Chiaki’s neck. “Really needed this,” he breathes. “You’re good, you
know that?”
 
“I think you’re good, too.” Chiaki smiles, sated and content, petting Izumi’s
hair and shoulders, rubbing gently at the tension there. “And very strong,
inside and out. It’s...” He sighs out a breath, letting his eyes close even as
his hands keep moving. “It’s a relief for me, when you come through the
window.”
 
Izumi settles—really settles with those words. Even knowing that this is
something very mutual, hearing that from time to time settles it. Take care of
him, Kanata had said (threatened), and with this being one of the few ways
Izumi knows how to do just that…
 
“R-right, that’s enough,” Izumi exhales, slowly heaving himself off of Chiaki
and rolling to the side instead, stretching out with a sated groan. “These last
few weeks have been hell,” he admits, throwing an arm over Chiaki’s waist. “I’d
like to be down here more, but as it is, I barely can leave at all.”
 
Chiaki rubs gently at Izumi’s neck, content to flop onto his back. “You’re
doing good work for the king. We’re all doing our best in these uncertain
times. If you need motivation, there’s a book series I always recommend.” The
dog-eared tomes are thin, as most children’s books are, with colorful pictures
on many pages, taking up most of the shelf on his wall.
 
“I don’t need motivation, I need a nap,” Izumi grouses, his eyes lidding at the
continued petting. “Especially because of the king. And your signature, I have
to borrow something.”
 
“Something of mine?” Chiaki brightens. “You want to borrow my books? Obviously
you have to start with the first one, but you’ll want to read them all the way
through without stopping, I often hold vigils where I don’t sleep all night to
finish re-reading them.”
 
“Maybe later,” Izumi patiently dismisses, giving Chiaki’s hip a little poke. “I
need to borrow some of the magical weaponry you’ve been funding down here with
the wizard’s research guild—specifically, a net. I wouldn’t bother you about
it, but one of your wizards is being stingy.”
 
“Ah, the special ultra magical nets that they use to subdue the most horrific
sea monsters,” Chiaki muses to himself, nodding. “You have a sea monster on the
brain? They’ve been killing a lot of people lately, but with our new weapons,
we’re protecting even more!”
 
“Not a sea monster, but…close enough,” Izumi says with a sort of resigned
weariness to his voice. “I’ll return it within the week, hopefully. If this
doesn’t work, nothing will.”
 
“As long as it’s to keep people safe.” Chiaki beams. “You’re strong and
talented enough to use it. I’ll sign!”
 
“If you keep complimenting me like that, I’m never getting out of your bed,”
Izumi threatens, sliding up against Chiaki and kissing him firmly. “I’ll find
the paper in my bag in a minute. Pet me for just a bit longer.”
 
Chiaki leans into the kiss, hoping he doesn’t look too lonely when he does,
reaching up to squeeze Izumi’s hand before relaxing. “You won’t use it to steal
my wizard, will you?” he asks, entirely serious. “I’m sure it must be tempting,
he’s very good.”
 
It’s more than tempting, Izumi wants to say, but bites his tongue while also
omitting how an errant joke about doing as much had resulted in him needing
that signature in the first place. Makoto is entirely uninterested in humoring
him and his advances, for whatever reason, and Makoto is absolutely not the
reason he started visiting High Harbor before that promise to Kanata, not at
all. “Mm, no, I’m not going to steal him,” he says, his eyes lidding. “Even
though he’s cute. There are laws against that, after all.”
 
“There are! I’m glad you care about the law,” Chiaki says earnestly, pressing a
kiss to Izumi’s temple, stroking up his arm, then down the smooth muscle of his
back. “If there were something I could offer you to come work for the Powerful
Burning Defense--I mean, the City Guard,” he corrects himself cheerfully, “you
can always name it.”
 
“Yeah, yeah, so you’ve said, but I like being in charge, and you’re already a
hell of a captain in your own right,” Izumi grumbles, shifting restlessly
underneath Chiaki’s touch now. “So that’s not happening. Keep your Powerful
Burning Defense Force and leave me to the capital and our king. Quit petting me
now, or I’ll never get up.”
 
Izumi can say he’s like a snake all he wants, but Chiaki has never met anyone
more contrary like a cat in his life. He flops down, then scrubs his hands up
through his hair, getting up and starting to stretch. “You need a fresh horse
for the ride back? Or a dip in the ocean to revitalize your muscles?”
 
“No, I feel revitalized enough.” Izumi shifts with a slow, aching stretch that
makes him wince, but he slowly slithers out of the bed, collecting his very
discarded clothes along the way. “And my horse is insane and will never be
tired. Mm, here.” He finds the folded up notice within the inside pocket of his
coat and tosses it onto the bed. “Sign that, would you? Yuukun was so pushy
about it…”
 
Chiaki inks a quill, then signs immediately with a swift and surprisingly neat
flourish, handing the paper back. “One week, you said. I’ll hold you to that,
because that’s when my new monster-fighting recruits will be ready! They’re
nearly done with Book 1 right now, as well as spear combat.”
 
“Good for them. Yeah, it’ll be back within the week, or so help me,” Izumi
mutters, folding the paper back up and tucking it back into his coat after
shrugging it back onto his shoulders. He pulls free a leather tie and rakes his
hair back from his face, tying it back. “This is an odd question, but do you
have any experience with, uh, snogs?”
 
“Not personally.” Chiaki grabs his own foot, stretching out his thighs with a
sigh. “Ah, I think Captain Arashi of the West has done quite a bit of combat
with them, you may want to ask him about any questions you have.”
 
“Unfortunately, this is one I can’t ask him about,” Izumi grumpily mutters,
yanking his breeches back up. “For many reasons, but not least of all because
he’s off getting married.”
 
“Ah! I’ll send a gift!” Chiaki turns to look at his bookshelf, frowning. “Has
he already read ‘Masked Heroes Save the Country,’ do you think?”
 
“I’ll find out before you send anything, so hold off,” Izumi says with a roll
of his eyes. “But you’d be better off sending wine. He’s an idiot, don’t
forget.”
 
“Liking wine sounds very refined to me.” Chiaki jots down a note to himself
(wine arashi wedding) and stuffs it into the pocket of his coat, then starts to
shrug on his clothes. “I prefer plain cold water, or sometimes juice. Wine
gives me headaches.”
 
“Maybe you’ve just had shitty wine. Mm, come here.”
 
Izumi grabs Chiaki by the front of his unlaced shirt, dragging him down for a
slow, wet kiss, his other hand’s fingers dragging along the rough stubble along
his chin. “Thanks for lending me your bed,” he murmurs. “It’d be nice to stay
longer.”
 
Chiaki’s breath stutters for a second, and he leans into the kiss, blushing
when he finally pulls away. “You’re welcome for as long as you like,” he says
softly, tucking a flyaway strand behind one of Izumi’s ears. “My window’s
always open for you. Whenever.”
 
“You’re so relaxing,” Izumi mutters, the words sounding almost accusing rather
than like a compliment. It’s certainly not a phrase he’s ever heard from anyone
else to describe Chiaki, but they probably don’t live the kind of lives either
of them do. He rocks back, releasing Chiaki with a last pat to his cheek.
“Don’t worry, I always keep you in mind.” And then, after a second’s
hesitation, he adds, “If you ever really need me to stay, you better come out
and say it.”
 
Immediately, Chiaki’s smile shines brighter than the sun, and he laughs, hands
braced on his hips. It’s the kind of laugh he gives his other friends, the
don’t-ever-worry-about-me laugh that’s usually reassuringly effective. “I have
the sun and the sea and good friends.”
 
But Izumi is being open and honest with him, and Chiaki’s bravado dies after a
moment, fading to something more raw, more honest. “I’ll let you know,” he
adds, looking away. Being this open is disconcerting, but Izumi makes it...not
terrifying.
 
“Yeah. Do that. Your wife’ll kill me if you don’t.” It’s a joke, but it’s also
very true, Izumi is pretty sure. Kanata had been very serious about Chiaki’s
well-being some eight months ago when this all started. He tilts his head,
sparing a last glance at Chiaki’s face before Izumi steps back, grabbing up his
abandoned bag. “Thanks again,” he lightly says, flinging open Chiaki’s window
and hauling himself out of it. “I have to go bother your wizards now, sorry!”
 
Chiaki waves merrily the whole way, watching Izumi go. “Be safe!” he calls,
watching Izumi hit the ground and make for the stables, and a moment later, a
cloud of dust rising on the horizon. His smile fades, and he whispers, “Come
back soon,” into the cool evening air.
***** Chapter 30 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
The Hinterlands are exceptionally chilly, and rainy, and therefore, wet. Inside
of the second son, third child of the Hakaze family’s so-called ’Go Away’
house, however, it’s delightfully warm, well-lit with oil-burning lamps and an
array of candles, with a fire burning hot as well.
 
Rei relishes this, and lounges mostly naked on the floor in front of said fire,
buried underneath a stack of furs.
 
It’s nothing shy of disconcerting to feel so little on the other side of his
bond right now. Shu is silent, uncomfortably so, but it’s a necessary side
effect if they’re both going to be functional while he’s in the Sandlands
tackling one issue, and Rei is…here, there, wherever, tackling every other one.
It makes his other senses that much more painfully acute, and it’s why he can
hear the conversation happening at the front of the Go-Away-house’s front door,
clear across the manor.
 
“If there’s a noble that can help ushere, then I need to speak with them!”
 
That’s someone familiar—very familiar—and Rei grimaces, pushing himself up
slowly. “Kao~ru, love,” he calls sleepily, entirely unaware of what time of day
it even is. “Can you tell me if the cute one at the front door has red hair? It
feels like they might…”
 
Kaoru stretches, rolling over to the window overlooking the front door,
blinking blearily at the mirror angled to show him the doorway. “Red hair on
the little one,” he confirms with a yawn. “His friend is cuter, though. I mean,
he tries to kill me every time I see him, but he’s cute anyway.”
 
“Mmm? He has friends? How unusual…” Rei yawns behind one hand, staring over at
Kaoru with lidded eyes. “If the little redhead starts blowing things up, this
is your warning.”
 
“Don’t blow up my go away house,” Kaoru groans, flopping over to bury his face
in the pillow. “Be nice, I’m still leaky and sore. I didn’t know you were gonna
show up able to party after a decade...”
 
“I’m being nice, I’m always nice,” Rei hums, flopping back down and wriggling
closer, long fingers gently combing Kaoru’s hair out of his face. “It’s not me
that would be mean to you…just another fluttery little wizard, you see.”
 
“Of course he’s mean,” Kaoru says, rubbing up against Rei’s long-fingered
hands, eyes closing in lingering bliss. “He’s hanging out with that guy, the
one that always tries to skewer me and call me a disgrace. Mm, invite them in,
we can have a foursome.”
 
Rei has to physically pause, recollecting himself after his mind immediately
decides yes, that sounds wonderful. His fingers tiptoe slowly down Kaoru’s
spine, tracing down the lovely arch of it. “I think not. One of them is…well,
I’m certain he’s taken. Besides, you look awfully nibbled upon. Is that really
any way for you to greet guests?”
 
“Whose fault is that?” Kaoru asks, squirming and letting his back arch. “I
changed my mind, make them go away, I want to enjoy you for the rest of the
day, and night again.”
 
“Mm…I’d love to make them go away, but that sounds like having to get up and
leave you here all alone…” Rei scoots closer, nuzzling aside Kaoru’s hair to
mouth a kiss to the back of his neck, sucking slowly on the skin. “And that
just—“
 
The door to Kaoru’s bedroom slams open, and Natsume stands in the doorframe,
hands on his hips. He’s dressed in his usual travel garb, ruffled skirt hiked
up on one side to unabashedly reveal an arsenal of…well, it might be daggers or
it might be magical bombs, even Rei isn’t entirely sure, but it’s all strapped
to his thigh. Worse, behind him must be the ‘friend’ Kaoru has spoken of, sword
in hand. “They said I’d find the lord of the manor here,” Natsume imperiously
greets. “So, where—wait. R…Rei? Lord Rei?”
 
“Ah, hello,” Rei cheerfully greets, fluttering a hand as he doesn’t even other
trying to rise. “Natsume, you’re as lovely as always.”
 
“Aha! The disgrace of the Hinterlands! I should have known we’d find you abed
at this hour,” Souma says, disgust in every syllable. He gestures at Kaoru,
looking at Natsume as if trying to explain just how horrible such a creature
must be with one movement.
 
“Ahhh, so mean, but so cute.” Kaoru finally rolls off the bed, grabbing a
dressing gown and wrapping it around himself. “Oh. There’s a lady. Rei, why’d
you say you had a friend and not say it was a lady? Hello, darling,” he
murmurs, giving Natsume a deep bow, which incidentally coincides with him
ducking under Souma’s blade strike.
 
Natsume scowls, unimpressed, but he does hold up a hand. “Souma, stop that. If
you kill him, I won’t be able to talk to him.”
 
“And what would you like with my cute little Kaoru?” Rei sighs, rolling onto
his side and vaguely remembering to tug up one of the furs further up his hips.
He props his head in one hand, drumming his fingers against his cheek. “I don’t
think I’ve met your sword-friend.”
 
Souma immediately sheathes his sword, giving Rei a low bow. “Ah! Hello, you
seem quite important, and Natsume says you are a wizard.” He bows again, back
ramrod straight, forehead nearly touching the floor. “I am Souma, of the
Kanzaki house, neighbor of this disgrace. Please do not think that his conduct
reflects upon all of us in the Hinterlands.”
 
“It’s true,” Kaoru says cheerfully, kissing Natsume’s hand, then winking. “I’m
nothing like the rest of the stuck-up nobles around here. I’d love to show you
how different I am. I don’t play by their rules.”
 
Natsume’s head cocks, his eyes narrowing. “If that’s the case, then you might
be very useful,” he intently says, his gaze locked on Kaoru as he takes a step
closer. “What does your household know of the mining trade? And all of the
slaves involved?”
 
“Ahh, we’re already on that, I see,” Rei sighs to himself, rolling back over
onto his stomach. “Nice to meet you, Souma of the Kanzaki house, you’re very
cute.”
 
Souma’s face flushes, and he bows again to hide it. “Ah, you seem like a great
lord, Milord! What shall I call you? If there is any use to which you may put
my sword--for example, may I execute this miscreant on your behalf?”
 
Kaoru ignores him completely, eyes all on Natsume. “My household, plenty,” he
admits freely. “I’m out of favor right now because I don’t want any part of
it.”
 
“That’s not why you’re in disgrace!” Souma says, face hot with anger and
outrage. “You wretch--has your family been making use of my family’s sacred
lands to do human trafficking?”
 
“Dunno, probably,” Kaoru says with a shrug. “Pretty lady, I’ll take you to see
it, if you like. I can get you in anywhere.”
 
Natsume’s eyes gleam, pleased with this knowledge. “Yes, good, that’s exactly
what I want from you. Lord Rei, of course you must know this as well, that’s
why you’re here, isn’t it?”
 
Rei pauses, glancing up at the ceiling in a vague prayer for strength. How to
explain to Natsume the intricacies of bonds and sex magic and the like? Now
probably isn’t the time, with his blushing Hinderlandish friend. “Something
like that…ah, Souma, you can call me Rei or Lord Rei as well. Don’t slay this
great beast here, he’s still useful to me.”
 
“Yes, Milord Rei,” Souma says instantly, so pleased to receive clear orders
that he immediately falls to his knees in a kneel.
 
Kaoru rolls his eyes, stepping forward to brush a speck of mud from Natsume’s
cheek. “Ah, pretty one, you’ve been out in the wilds, haven’t you? There’s no
reason for that, even this little house of mine has lovely baths that you’ll
want to try out...let me take you, it’ll be fun.”
 
Rei’s eyebrows raise at Souma, vague amusement coloring his expression, but he
can’t help but look to Natsume and Kaoru when a little spark of something not
quite right flares in the corner of his vision.
 
It’s a warning, a stern one at that, and even Natsume seems unaware of it.
 
Rei opens his mouth to say something about it, but Natsume huffs, smacking
Kaoru’s hand away as primly as any noble lady would. “You think very highly of
yourself, don’t you?” he snaps, folding his arms across his chest. “If I’m to
have a bath, I don’t need you to attend to me during.”
 
“Be careful with that one, love,” Rei weakly warns Kaoru instead, all sorts of
delighted by Natsume’s charms as well. He’s so adorable when he’s uppity, after
all. “Natsume has quite the bite.”
 
Kaoru laughs. “After spending time with you, you think I’m scared of being
bitten? Now, let me just show you--you don’t have to be afraid, I’m a
gentleman--”
 
He reaches out and touches Natsume’s chin, only to be abruptly thrown back
against the wall by a sudden burst of magic force, followed by an ethereal,
disembodied laugh. “Hands off, friend,” a merry voice rings through the room.
“This one is under just a bit of protection.”
 
Then the voice and presence vanish with the tinkling of bells, leaving Kaoru
blinking. “Um. Or I could just. Show you the mines?”
 
“I think I offered a fair warning,” Rei wryly sighs, shaking his head. “Are you
quite all right?”
 
Natsume, for his part, blinks rapidly, looking around to try and find the
source of such a spell before realizing it’s very much clinging to him. His
expression shifts from unsure to a mix confused and delighted, and his cheeks
flush a faint pink. “Y-yes, just—just show me the mines, I need to see them for
myself!”
 
“Well, if you don’t need your other friend, he can take a nice rest right
here,” Rei hums, patting to the floor next to himself. “And protect me instead.
Report back to me with what you find, Natsume—and mind those hands of yours,
hmm, Kaoru?”
 
“This is suddenly going to be really dumb,” Kaoru mutters, grabbing a pair of
breeches before heading out the door, following at Natsume’s heels.
 
Souma, for his part, bows to Rei again. “Thank you for ridding us of that
nuisance, Milord Rei. Please, be at ease, I will protect you from whatever ills
may be lurking in the home of so dishonorable a man. And whatever he’s told you
about the Hinterlands, they doubtless do not do justice to my family’s
ancestral pride-holdings.”
 
“Sit, sit,” Rei dismisses, dragging over a pillow to prop himself up onto it,
entirely unconcerned about his continued state of undress underneath fluffs and
furs. Koga would have something to say about rolling about in animal fur like
this, but oh well. “Kaoru’s a dear friend of mine, but I understand his
shortcomings. You should tell me a thing or two about the Hinterlands instead,
perhaps.”
 
Souma’s eyes glow with pleasure, and he happily takes a seat on the edge of the
bed, noting its softness with disapproval. “There is no one better from whom
you could hear of my beautiful country,” he enthuses, face shining. “My people
have lived here for thousands of years. Our legends say we first sailed in when
the world was rent in two, and a river carved through this country so deeply
that the giant sea turtles carried us on their backs. I’ve...always wanted to
see such things with my own eyes, even though it’s lost to history.”
 
“It’s no small wonder you and Natsume get along, then—he’s from the Isles, so
even if your blood from there has thinned, you must still have some
camaraderie.” Rei’s eyes lid as he watches Souma, then flick to the quietly
crackling fire, needing the distraction. Natsume is such a brilliant,
distracting light that it’s hard to calm his blood after seeing him, and it’s
no small wonder that Wataru would put such a charm on him to protect him
because of it. It’s unlike you to be so possessive, though, my friend.“Tell me
truthfully, then, because I can see you’re a man of honor. As far as you know,
your family has nothing to do with this disgusting slave trade business,
correct?”
 
“Never!” The passion behind that word is unmistakeable, and Souma reaches for
the hilt of his sword, then forces himself to relax. “Did you say...the Isles?
He isn’t--he isn’t one of the lords of those Isles, is he? My people, we fled
from their oppression, back then...it’s why none of us will ever dabble in that
most reprehensible of trades, and have managed the Hinterlands with that duty
in mind for all these generations.”
 
“As far as I know, he’s just a cute little peasant girl,” Rei cheerfully says,
immediately neglecting to confirm exactly who Natsume’s mother is, and
subsequently, his status within the Isles in question. “I scooped him up when
he was very young, so you needn’t worry about that. I’m glad to hear that your
family isn’t involved, that would be troublesome for a young man like you. You
know why I had to ask, of course; I’ve had friends of my own enslaved in that
trade…and now it’s veering into the Shadowlands. It has to be stopped before
the Hinterland mines are completely overrun by the trade.”
 
“It is a cancer on our society--no, on our very world,” Souma says
passionately, turning to face Rei, reaching out to touch his arm. “I would
never disgrace my history, nor my honor, by acting like that. I...I have a
friend, quite a ways away, with whom I share my convictions. It’s very
important to me.”
 
The touch is electric, no matter how Rei tries to ignore it. How unfortunate
that he’s like this—no, that’s not right. There’s nothing unfortunate about it;
it’s simply unmanageable for humans like Shu, and that means a hefty amount of
guilt with an equally hefty amount of dissatisfaction. Rei exhales a slow
breath through his nose, shifting where he sits, but not away. “It’s a relief
to know that not every family in the Hinterlands is corrupted by such things.
Your friend…mm, where is he from?”
 
“The Sandlands. He’s a noble warrior of his people,” Souma says, eyes misting
over at the thought. “And a man of great honor.”
 
Too soon, the thought of what Adonis would say if he knew Souma had shirked his
responsibilities and run away occurs to him, and his eyes cast down,
crestfallen. “I...will never see him again.”
 
“Hmm? And why’s that? Traveling to the Sandlands from here…well, it’s far, but
not impossible…” Rei leans forward, tapping underneath Souma’s chin with a
finger. “You’ve made friends with a great wizard and master of travel, if being
discrete is part of the issue.”
 
Souma starts to respond, but feels his breath stutter in his throat. The touch
doesn’t feel like a finger’s tap on his skin--it makes his whole neck prickle,
then his chest, until his lungs constrict in sudden, breathtaking arousal.
Spots of color rise in his cheeks, and he swallows hard, mortified at his own
reaction. “I...” It’s hard to remember what he’d been about to say, and he
fumbles for his words. “I--I ran away, you see...”
 
Whoops. “Ah, sorry, it’s leaky today,” Rei vaguely says, smiling as he
withdraws with a flutter of his hand. At least weeds have stopped trying to
grow through Kaoru’s floorboards and causing so much damage. “Right, so you ran
away—why? You don’t seem the type.”
 
“I...” That much, at least, Souma remembers, though he doesn’t want to. “My
elder sister was to be married. But she came down with the pox, out of the
Shadowlands, and died the day before the wedding. Sending no one was out of the
question, so they were going to send me, but I knew I’d be discovered, and that
would be a much greater shame. I don’t...believe that they accept bhenda brides
south of here.”
 
“Ahh. My condolences, first of all.” Rei leans back, folding his hands in his
lap. “It certainly would be a mess if you were to be sent and discovered,
everything between the North and the South are annoyingly close-minded…where
were you being sent off to, if I might ask? It might be worthwhile for me to
look into the situation and try to resolve it so that you can return home.”
 
The second Rei leans away, some of that excitement fades, along with the
warmth. Souma tries not to look disappointed. “They didn’t tell me, Milord.
Only that it was to be a man of some importance. They didn’t tell me until the
last possible moment, for fear that I would...well. Do something like this.”
His mouth twists. “I was going to take my own life out of honor, but I ran into
Milord Natsume, and he needed a guide. Ah, I suppose I should do that now.”
 
“Don’t do that, you’re far too young to die,” Rei quickly says, reaching back
out to pat Souma’s head. A mistake, probably, because any touching right now
makes him shivery and jittery, but here he is, an idiot as per usual. “And
Natsume would be sad, in spite of how, ah, that way he is, sometimes. Your hair
is so soft, dear gods.”
 
“I...maintain it diligently,” Souma says, chest hitching again. Unbidden, he
moves forward, kneeling next to Rei, quite pleased to be having his head
patted. Without quite knowing why, he reaches up, freeing the tie that holds
his hair in place, letting it fall down around his shoulders, reaching all the
way to the bed. “Milord Rei can touch it more, if he likes. I, I am a youngest
son of a Hinterlands family, after all.”
 
Well, to hell with it, then, Rei wryly thinks, and his fingers slide back
through Souma’s hair, dragging along his scalp as they tangle through the soft,
smooth strands. It’s easier than he’d thought it would be to fall back into old
habits, and his magic is so very on edge still that the process of actually
snaring any and all potential partners is terribly easy. “Mmm? Does that mean
something in particular?” he softly asks, deciding that being as clueless as
possible can result in something enjoyable. “It’s so long. I’ve only ever seen
one other man with hair as long as yours, and he’s barely human.”
 
“It is...an honor to have you enjoy it,” Souma says softly, eyes lidded in the
pleasure of having his hair played with. “Ah...the youngest son, in wealthy
families, is trained in the way of a bhenda bride...a pleasure bride, for the
good of strengthening alliances and...and...and Milord Rei has very nice
hands,” he finds himself murmuring, leaning in close, resting his hands on
Rei’s chest.
 
“The North and the South are quite similar sometimes, aren’t they,” Rei
murmurs, his fingers thumbing against Souma’s temples before his nails scrape
gently along Souma’s scalp again. “It’s the west and center that always have
such hangups, which is such a shame…whoever they’re trying to wed you to should
be grateful, not shamed.”
 
Souma leans in, and instinct takes over. Rei lurches forward, shoving him down,
pinning him with a gentle hand over his throat. His thumb traces over Souma’s
rapidly thudding pulse, and Rei’s breath hitches, the scent of blood and how it
races through Souma’s veins suddenly stark and sweet in his nose. “It’d be a
shame for someone not to appreciate you thoroughly,” he breathes. “What
westerner or capital-born noble could do that?”
 
But my honor--
 
--was forfeit when I ran away--
 
--but my purity--
 
--is forfeit since I’m out of our lands--
 
--but--
 
--his hands--
 
Instinct takes over, melding with training, and Souma arches back against the
bed, arms twining up over his head, head rolling to the side to expose his pale
neck. This man, this great lord, has a power about him that steals Souma’s good
sense, making him squirm and pant when he hasn’t even been touched yet. “I...am
at your service, Milord,” he breathes, eyes blown in anticipation.
 
Rei’s fingers slide up, thumb brushing the soft skin of Souma’s cheek before
his hand traces up those lean arms to grip Souma’s wrists, deftly pinning him
down. “I’ve had a handful of bhenda before, but you…you’re splendid,” he sighs,
bending low over Souma, long, dark hair spilling over his shoulders. His tongue
flicks out, wetting his lower lip, allowing the tiniest glimpse of fangs. “I
feel as though it’s only proper to warn you—I’ve been very hungry since my mate
has been away.”
 
Pride flares in Souma’s eyes, and he arches up, chest pressed against Rei’s,
hair spilling back to reveal pale, smooth skin. “Milord Rei,” he says, as
firmly as he can manage when he’s all worked up like this, “my people’s
land...borders the Shadowlands. I’ve always known I could be given as a bhenda
to a bloodbred lord.”
 
He lets his head tilt to the side, exposing the column of his neck, even as the
action makes him shiver. “Milord...I hope the taste is to your liking...”
 
Being invited is both the best and the worst. Rei’s breath hitches, and he
hears his own pulse pound in his ears before he lunges, barely sucking on that
soft, pale flesh before his fangs sink in, deep and sure.
 
The first taste of that blood makes him groan, and his fingers tighten around
Souma’s wrists, biting into the skin. Rei swallows noisily, and his hips press
down, the hard line of his cock rubbing against Souma’s still-clothed hip as he
drinks in long, savoring gulps until finally drawing back, his pupils dilated,
cheeks flushed and lips red. “You taste so clean,” he sighs, licking a stripe
up the dripping bite mark left in his wake. “Like the mountains used to be
here…mm, but you’re too young to know anything about that, aren’t you…”
 
“Our legends...speak of such things.” The words are panted, breathy, and Souma
licks his lips. Pleasure buzzes through his body, mixed with the curious
weakness of being drained, and the delightful relief of finally being of use in
the way he was born to be.
 
He squirms, trying to be free of his borrowed, enchanted clothes, but with his
hands pinned, it’s no use. “Nnh, if Milord undresses me, he can have me as he
wishes, as...as the Demon King of old parted the mountains...you can...” He
lets his thighs part, cheeks flushed with embarrassment of what he wants to
say. It would have been quite poetic, had he had the courage to follow through.
 
“Part your pretty thighs? But you’re already doing that for me,” Rei teasingly
finishes, releasing Souma’s wrists with a last squeeze, reassured that they’ll
stay put. The taste of blood is still heavy on his tongue, and his fingers
tremble as they drag down to Souma’s laces, unraveling them in short order,
yanking his clothes off and tossing them to the floor. “Demon Kings don’t
change much, I’ll have you know,” he softly says, plucking up a well-loved
bottle of oil from the beside table and letting it drip over his fingers. “The
Demon King of this day and age—well, he’s enjoying this plenty.”
 
The Demon King?
 
Souma had thought he’d met a powerful bloodbred--perhaps one of the Volcano
Lords, or a younger son of a border kingdom, prone to wandering out of his own
realm. But if this is truly the Demon King, this liaison could have far greater
political ramifications, he could be upsetting the balance of power between the
Hinterlands and the wizards...
 
And with this man between his legs, red-stained lips parted, his neck stinging
pleasantly, blood thrumming beneath his skin, he doesn’t care.
 
His training tells him that it’s unseemly to enjoy this sort of thing, but no
matter how sternly he reminds himself, his cock won’t listen. He grabs a
pillow, pulling it over his face, hoping to hide the sudden desire he can’t
repress. “I...am at your service,” he mumbles into the pillow, then lets his
teeth dig into the fabric of the pillow, hoping to muffle his noises further.
 
“Ah, none of that now, I’ll see your face and how much you like this,” Rei
hums, neatly grabbing the pillow away from Souma and tossing it aside just as
he slides a pair of long fingers inside, slick with oil and pressing deep. He
bends low over Souma, tongue dragging over the bite marks he left behind,
sucking on it to gently drag a bruise to the surface before his mouth skirts
lower, closing around a nipple instead. His magic shivers under the surface,
but it’s less the obnoxious, unwieldy tidal wave of power that it’s been for
the last decade, and just much more eager, much more quick to respond that this
is a hell of a meal, thank the gods.
 
Souma’s lips part around a soft, shivering cry. His hands stay where Rei had
put them, above his head as if he’s chained to it, thighs spreading wider to
accommodate the stretch of those long, clever fingers. He’d been good at this
part of training, but it had been covered as almost an afterthought, something
to learn on one’s own, because the chance of him actually being awarded as a
bhenda bride had been seen as slim, what with an older sister still alive...
 
Those fingers slide in deep, and he lets out another breathy squeak, toes
curling, knees lifting into the air to try and drag the Demon King in deeper as
his chest tingles. Rei’s mouth is hot and wet, dragging sensation out of his
body in a way his tutors had never warned about, and warmth blooms deep in his
belly. “M-Milord...ahh, I apologize, I’m--being unseemly--it’s just so...nnh--”
 
Rei’s teeth lightly tug on that nipple, sucking on it as Souma arches into the
touch. “Unseemly?” he breathes as he pulls back with a last press and flick of
his tongue. His fingers twist slowly, curling and stroking, drawing out every
shiver, every curl of Souma’s toes, every squirm as he tries not to show how
much he’s enjoying this. “Lovely, more like. This lord wants to watch you enjoy
yourself, don’t hold yourself back.”
 
Souma’s fingers twitch towards the pillow, knowing just how obvious he’s being
about his wanton desires, unable to stop himself when he feels like he’s being
played like a violin. Rei’s fingers touch him like they’re plucking his
strings, drawing little moans and gasps out of him. His tutors would be
ashamed, his family disgraced, if they ever heard of him acting like this.
 
At least I can do something...
 
He reaches up, grabbing Rei by the neck, pulling him down as he wraps his legs
around Rei’s narrow hips. “Milord Demon King,” he says, hiccuping just a bit,
trying to hold those blazing crimson eyes without flinching from their heat,
“claim your prize and move in me.”
 
The sound of blood thumping in his ears is all Rei can hear for a moment,
before he moves, drags his hand away and grabs a handful of his hair instead,
yanking his head back with a swift pull. “Don’t worry,” he breathes, guiding
his cock to that sweet, slick hole, rubbing against it and then inside with
one, insistent push. “You’ll have all you want of me.”
 
Inside, Souma is hot and slick and welcoming, and it’s surprisingly easy to
sink inside, rocking in deep. Rei plants his other hand next to Souma’s head,
that leverage letting him thrust in hard, his mouth hot on the side of Souma’s
neck.
 
Don’t worry, Lord Souma. The voice of one of his tutors echoes in his mind,
from many years ago. Likely you’ll never become a bhenda. And if you do, few
lords claim them in the ways of old. Practice won’t be necessary.
 
Everything in Souma’s mind is overwhelming, electricity shooting through his
limbs as he’s thoroughly, relentlessly claimed. He arches back, a high, ragged
moan escaping his lips as Rei sinks deep into him, dragging sensations out of
him, lighting him afire with the kind of want he’d always felt embarrassing for
feeling.
 
Rei’s mouth just makes it worse (better) on his neck, and before he can stop
himself, Souma drags his nails down Rei’s back. “M-Milord, I’m--ahhh-hhh, it’s-
-there’s so much, it’s--”
 
He can hardly breathe, as if the thick cock inside him is crowding out even the
air in his lungs, sending sparks of pleasure and pain through him as he
writhes.
 
The nails down his back makes Rei arch with a groan, his hips snapping forward
hard, deep, intent on being buried inside of Souma’s pliant form. His teeth nip
at the side of Souma’s neck again, then he sucks instead of bites as he grinds
forward, feeling the way Souma clenches down even tighter at such a sharp
angle. “But you’re made for this, aren’t you?” he pants out, pawing a hand down
Souma’s chest, pinching, gently pulling at one of his nipples. “You’re being so
good for me—maybe I’ll steal you away myself, and you can be my bride…”
 
The orgasm that rips through Souma rocks him to his core. He doesn’t even have
the chance to stop himself before he’s convulsing, face scrunched up in ecstasy
that wrings him out, slams him against the wall of pleasure and leaves him
jittery, charged-up, stars exploding in his mind as he spills.
 
Rei suddenly feels five times bigger inside of him as he spasms, tightening
down on that incredibly thick length, and he whimpers, biting his bottom lip,
clinging to Rei for support. “It’s--M-Milord, I--” There are no words for how
full he feels, how his body feels as if it’s been plugged into a bolt of
lightning.
 
Rei muffles a growl into Souma’s hair, his own sticking to Souma’s neck and
shoulders as he grinds forward, thrusting through each twitch and spasm. His
magic lurches—trembling, as on edge as he himself is, and the way Souma clings
to him just makes it better when he rocks forward, taking what he wants, what
he needs, with shaky thighs and grabbing hands only spurring him on.
 
He comes after another few thrusts, panting out each breath against Souma’s
skin, sweat running down his jawline as he buries himself to the hilt with a
last grunt of effort. Souma is so trembly-tight and wound up that it almost
takes effort to stay there, and Rei exhales a long breath, mouthing wet kisses
up his throat. “Good boy,” he sighs as his fingers drag down from Souma’s
chest, running through the mess on his stomach, and when Rei brings it up to
his own lips, the taste of sweat and semen makes him shudder.
 
The words are so gentle that tears spring to Souma’s eyes, and he buries his
face in Rei’s chest, clinging to him with a hitch of breath. He shudders again,
blinking rapidly, holding on tight until the shaking stops. “S-sorry,” he
whispers. “I need to...control myself better. I won’t do it again.”
 
“Mm? No, no, do it again, and again, you’re lovely when you’re losing
yourself.” Rei rolls slowly onto his side, dragging Souma with him, neatly
gathering him into his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“Perhaps they train bhenda differently here these days…I’d be sad if I didn’t
see you enjoy yourself.”
 
“Was it...different, back then?” Souma would be an utter fool not to notice how
ancient this man feels, though his arms are warm, comforting. “It was better
than they told me it would be.”
 
“Everything is different when you’re as old as I am,” Rei laughs, shifting
again to help comb Souma’s hair out of the way so it can’t be laid upon and
tugged. “The bhenda I used to see come through the courts were masters of their
own pleasure as well. For bloodbred, that’s not as important, but for a sex
wizard like myself…it would be very distressing to have a little pet that
didn’t enjoy themselves.”
 
“Mm, I wouldn’t want to displease you.” Souma nearly purrs, butting his head
against Rei’s fingers. “There are so few of us left. It’s illegal to train or
trade a bhenda who isn’t of the old blood. I hope I didn’t disgrace my lineage
in your mind, Milord. I’ve always kept my blood pure.”
 
“Of course you have. I can taste it, you know.” Rei’s eyes lid, his fingers
petting slowly against Souma’s scalp. “There’s a similar sort of concept in the
Sandlands, you know. No bloodline attached, but…do you know of it? You said you
have a friend there.”
 
Souma shakes his head, blinking slowly, eyes lidding in pleasure. Belatedly, he
remembers to reciprocate, and he starts kneading his fingertips gently into
Rei’s shoulders. “We never talked of such things. Mostly we talked about each
others’ muscles, and our ideals. He didn’t know...about my family’s training. I
didn’t think it would really happen, you see.”
 
“Ahhh. Well, now you’ve been put to good use, haven’t you?” Rei teases before
he shivers underneath the touch of Souma’s hands. His shoulders roll before he
leans down to steal a kiss directly from Souma’s mouth. “Don’t do that, or I’ll
get started again. I don’t want to misuse you right from the start. Ah, what
was I talking about, right, the Sandlands. They aren’t called bhenda down
there, of course—they’re just prostitutes, but the concept remains, a sort of
third gender, if you will…affairs and liaisons with them don’t particularly
count in terms of destroying marriages and the like. A shame whatever lord you
were being handed off to would undoubtedly be…mm…squeamish, about something
similar.”
 
Souma subsides when he’s put off, dropping his hands to the bed obediently.
“That was my fear,” he admits. “A warrior shouldn’t fear other men, but...I
feared that he would be displeased and cast me to the side. My family--they
mean well, and they’re very honorable, but they haven’t traveled. They won’t
listen when I tell them that in the rest of the country, they don’t respect
bhenda. If I were given to a Sandlands lord, would they...sell me, do you
think? In the West, or the Capital...if it were considered an insult, my family
would be in danger. I couldn’t allow such a thing. Better for me to disappear.”
 
“A Sandlands lord would…hmmm.” Rei contemplates this, stroking a hand slowly
down Souma’s back. “They’d probably respect the concept and keep you, honestly.
You know, I know a few Sandlands lords. You should let me introduce you, if
you’d like to disappear properly.”
 
“Mm?” Souma blinks, rousing himself from his deep relaxation. “Ah, whatever
Milord desires. I belong to you now, of course, so you may do as you please.”
 
“Is that so…” Whoops.Rei idly wonders what Shu would think of this, and extends
a sheepish, affectionate little prod in Shu’s direction. Even with their bond
solidly blocked he should feel that much—maybe. “For now, why don’t you get
some rest. You’ve been running about with Natsume, and I know he isn’t exactly
considerate of others.”
 
“Mm, Lord Natsume is a very courageous and considerate person,” Souma murmurs,
nuzzling into Rei’s chest. “But if Milord desires it, I will kill even him for
his sake. Ah...is it always so tiring?”
 
From afar, a pleased prickle of affection returns along the bond, colored with
warmth.
 
“Only if you’re doing it correctly, I think.” Rei drags up one of the kicked-
aside furs, tucking it around Souma. The return touch from so far away makes
Rei’s pulse flutter, and he shuts his eyes, exhaling a long, slow breath.
“Don’t kill Natsume. Just get some rest, your lord demands it.”
 
“Yes...Milord.”
 
All things considered, Souma thinks, as he passes out into a deep, untroubled
sleep, he could have been claimed by a much worse lord.
***** Chapter 31 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
The Sandlands are beautiful.
 
Adonis has grown up knowing of their beauty, and respecting their brutality. He
sees the sandstorms sweeping in off of the horizon and blinding, shredding
everything in their paths. He’s also seen the purest, cleanest sunrises and
sunsets over those same sands, in the wake of storms so large he thought they’d
tear the world apart. Just because he sees the fact that the desert lizards eat
their crippled young doesn’t mean he won’t try to save them, hiding them in his
shirt and raising them in his room in carefully sculpted terrariums.
 
Even the beauty of the Sandlands can be cruel. But the cruelty of the Sandlands
is not beautiful.
 
“Please don’t think this is the best of my country,” he says quietly, swinging
off of Midnight’s saddle, taking the reins of Mika’s horse. “Every place has
terrible deeds. I dislike seeing the ugly side of my home, but...”
 
The slave market is crowded and filthy, bustling with people shouting,
fighting, screaming, and just trying to get to their destination without
drawing stares. Adonis pulls his own headwrap down, concealing his identity the
way he always does in this quarter of the city. He’d brought one for Mika too,
with a deep fold to hide his lovely face. “There’s a hostler that will take
care of them while we look around.”
 
Even if the sights around him are somewhat lost with poor vision, Mika can fill
in the blanks courtesy of smells and sounds, none of which he enjoys.
 
Adonis’s words, unfortunately, fall on deaf ears. As much as he tries to hide
his trembling, it’s impossible, and he does not want to climb off of his horse,
no matter how the animal clearly finds his presence distasteful. He forces
himself a moment later, not wanting to draw any extra attention to himself, and
pulls his head scarf tightly around his face before he grabs at Adonis’s arm,
clinging to him. At least he has an excuse to do as much, and it’s not unseemly
in this circumstance. Maybe this was a bad idea he wants to say, but bites his
tongue, suddenly very aware of how carefully he needs to conduct himself here,
of all places. “Please don’t let go of me,” he softly says instead. The idea of
being snatched up here, even for the sake of his mission—absolutely not, no
thank you.
 
Adonis lifts Mika gently free of the horse, and tucks him under one arm, in the
safety that comes from being close to his body. “I’ll hold you close here,” he
promises. “You’re small, so you could get lost if I let you go.”
 
He gives their horses to a hostler, then steers Mika towards where he knows the
auction house is, settling his stomach by sheer force of will. “You can act
like my concubine,” he says quietly. “I suppose that’s not a lie, if that
helps. I always prefer to tell the truth.”
 
I’m going to have to, or I’m going to get killed, Mika thinks, wrapping his
fingers up into the linen of Adonis’s shirt. “Do you come out here
often…Milord?” It’s less formal than ‘Your Highness’ or any variation of that,
and less likely to draw attention. Mika sucks in a steadying breath, and dares
to try and focus on anything close to them as they walk—a mistake, that, when
most of the blurry images his eyes can make out are of slaves well past their
prime. “I don’t remember places like this from when I was young…has this…always
been so…”
 
“As long as I can remember.”
 
Adonis walks slowly, trying not to outpace Mika’s much smaller steps,
constantly checking to make sure he’s keeping up. “My tutor took me here when I
came of age. The...” His mouth thins with anxiety at what he has to say. “The
ones that sell for...lower prices...are first. The ones with obvious defects,
they say. Then the able-bodied workers. Then the young ones, and last the
talented ones. Which are you looking for?”
 
“Anyone foreign, specifically,” Mika softly answers, clutching tightly at the
firmly muscled arm he’s offered. “Younger, is also what I’ve been told. My
apologies, I can’t look for them myself when I’m like this.”
 
“Are there any identifying marks? I’ll do my best. They know me here at least.”
Adonis nods at a man guarding the door, who takes one look at him and steps
aside. A moment later, an usher comes to escort them to a couple of private
seats, with a very good and close view of the stage. “I’ve made many purchases
in the past.”
 
Mika starts to settle down next to him, then reconsiders, and neatly crawls his
way into Adonis’s lap, arms wound around his neck. “I know a couple of them
were noble children from the capital,” he murmurs, his face half-buried into
Adonis’s neck for easy relaying of information. “So fair-skinned, probably
light-haired…the king didn’t give me many details, my apologies.”
 
“The chances of them being here today are not high,” Adonis says quietly,
wrapping an arm around Mika’s waist, thinking he understands what Mika is
doing. “Yes, this makes it easier to talk to you. But sometimes, with the more
expensive property, if the seller doesn’t reach a high enough price, he will
refuse to sell. Some very expensive slaves stay on the market for weeks before
a wealthy enough buyer comes along. So if your villain is very greedy, you may
be lucky.”
 
You don’t have to point out that it’s easier to talk like this, Mika wearily
thinks, but he snuggles closer all the same, intent on looking convincing.
“Recent intel points to traders directly from the capital as well as some
natives…so if the profits have to be split like that, being very greedy is
definitely part of their character,” he murmurs, thinking back to the sealed
letter Hajime had passed to him just that morning, written in a hasty scrawl
that he hadn’t recognized. “Which ones do you usually buy?”
 
Adonis shrugs. “I wish I could buy all of them. I...” He shifts, uncomfortable
with the subject rather than the position. “I usually buy the smallest ones.
They need the most help. And their lives will probably be the most difficult if
no one helps them. They’re usually very afraid of me, though.”
 
Mika’s fingers curl against the back of Adonis’s neck, absently stroking.
Please don’t bat my hands away, it makes me look like I don’t know what I’m
doing, he wearily thinks, tilting his head back to try and get a better look
around the room. It’s moot, of course; with his sight this bad and a budding
headache behind his eyes, the blur of the room does little but make it worse.
“Are there a lot of foreign buyers that come through here? Or is it
just…locals, mostly? I’ve never actually been to a place like this…”
 
“This is the largest buying day of the moon cycle.” Adonis sits stiffly, not
batting Mika’s hands away, even relaxing a bit at the gentle touch. “It’s not
usually this full. This is the longest travel time of the year, so...that’s why
there are foreigners.”
 
He nods slightly at the stage. “If there are slaves they want to sell for very
high prices, it should be today. I wouldn’t bring you on a regular day.”
 
The clap of the auctioneer’s mallet makes Mika flinch, and he barely resists
the urge to huddle back into a ball against Adonis’s chest. “Please don’t think
this is the best of my country” Adonis had said—this is my country, too,Mika
thinks, and mostly, it just seems the same as always.
 
A few possible scenarios run through Mika’s head as the auction picks up, and
out comes the first offering for sale, an obviously native girl, dark-skinned
and very beautiful.  If anyone that the crown is looking for is for sale,
pushing Adonis to purchase them is too risky, but letting them slip through the
cracks and off to some buyer that’s going to do who knows what with them—“Do
they keep records here?” he softly asks, forcing his eyes to stop trying to
strain at the sights in the room. He peers up at Adonis instead, fingers
clinging to the ends of his hair. “About the buyers?”
 
Adonis’s brow furrows at the sight of the young girl. “I don’t know,” he
murmurs. “I’ve never asked.”
 
“Here we have a fine specimen! Only the best for you finest of guests, of
course! Just nine years old, already trained in every domestic art, only one
previous master--don’t look at me like that, honored guests, pre-owned means
pre-trained!”
 
The auctioneer surveys the audience, then spots Adonis, and subtly turns
towards him. “She’s very small, not terribly good at defending herself, and--”
 
“Ten silvers,” Adonis says helplessly.
 
For not the first time, Mika finds himself resentful that he has to work with
someone so obviously unequipped to deal with the cruelties of the slave trade.
Why couldn’t it be someone like Rei?he grumpily thinks, shifting unhappily in
Adonis’s lap. Adonis is a good person, perhaps too good, and while Mika can
appreciate the empathetic personality he has, in this particular circumstance,
it’s just… “Milord, we’re not here for this,” he hisses into Adonis’s ear.
 
“You’re not,” Adonis says placidly. His eyes are sad, focused on the young
girl, and there’s a reason he’d brought a very full purse. “You probably
shouldn’t talk back, though.”
 
The auctioneer waits, but there are no other bids, and before long, money is
exchanged, and the young girl kneels on the floor next to Adonis, looking down
at the ground, collared with her leash in Adonis’s hand.
 
Despite Mika’s obvious annoyance, Adonis bids three more times, and the empty
area near each bit of chairs starts to make sense. Very quietly, Adonis says in
Mika’s ear, “Look at it this way. No one will blink if you need me to bid on
someone. They know me here.”
 
Now is not the time to get into an argument about how Mika appreciates what
Adonis is doing, honestly, he does, but does he not see how difficult he’s
making this and if he just cooperates for now, it’ll be much easier to free
everyone later? Biting his tongue takes effort, and Mika finally does have to
lowly point out, “You bid on a very certain kind of slave, Milord. It’s going
to look out of place. The auctioneer even knows your tastes.”
 
Adonis shrugs. “He likes money. It’ll just look like I’m giving you a gift.”
 
Mika looks up at him grumpily. “In what way? What about me looks like I want
you to buy me a slave? If you sit and think about it,” he adds underneath his
breath, “it makes much more sense to not bid on them, and to try and seek out
the buyer records afterwards, that’s why I asked if those exist. I don’t want
to draw too much attention to us, but…”
 
The next slave up for auction is a foreigner, but not the sort that they’re
looking for. She looks terrified all the same, and even if Mika can’t see it
clearly, the unease that follows each and every slave in the air makes him more
anxious by the moment, until the next child that’s pulled onto the stage is
pale, light-haired, and the clink of coins about the room is unmistakable. Mika
shifts, tilting his head slightly to try and get a better look at who might be
showing interest—a futile attempt that he wants to slap himself for. “Just…keep
an eye on who might be bidding,” he softly says. “Before you do it yourself.”
 
Adonis nods slightly, just enough to show that he’s heard. He sits quietly for
the first dozen bids, and it goes fast with this one. He mentally recites the
names or ranks of all the bidders he recognizes, but once the bidding slows,
whispers, “Shall I? She’s small, it won’t seem strange.”
 
Mika hesitates, then nods, curling his fingers against Adonis’s shoulders. Just
one can’t be a bad idea, and maybe she’ll be able to point to how she got here,
even if she’s so little—
 
“10 gold royals.”
 
That’s a sharp increase in price. Mika carefully peers around Adonis—moot
point, when will he remember?—to catch a glimpse. Even if he can’t see the man
clearly, he sounds Capital-born, and maybe a little familiar? It’s hard to
tell.
 
Adonis waits for the shuffle of the crowd, then turns as well, though he knows
who he’ll see. He nods to the older man, which should hopefully tell Mika that
he knows him, can identify him later. Placidly, he declares, “Twelve gold
royals.” Nothing else need be said. Their bids speak for themselves.
 
“Fine specimen here, two bidders of discerning taste--I clearly don’t need to
tell you men about any of her fine breeding, but maybe if it goes up to twenty,
my lips will open...do I hear twenty?”
 
“Fifteen,” the man offers up, and Mika shifts restlessly. Definitely familiar,
or is he just trying to convince himself? Either way, he tries to settle and
not look too on-edge, his nails gently pricking into Adonis’s shoulders.
 
Adonis lifts Mika, settling him down next to his new slaves. “Please watch
them,” he says quietly, unable to stand the distracting fidgeting anymore, when
each shift seems like Mika is trying to tell him something he doesn’t
understand. “Seventeen,” he says, more loudly.
 
Sweat beads on the auctioneer’s brow, the result of a long day and budding
excitement of these two wealthy bidders actually competing. “Anything I can
show you to sweeten the deal?” he asks, looking between Adonis and the other
bidder. “Can’t allow you to touch the merchandise, of course, but I can provide
visual confirmation of virginity, if that’s a selling point! Do I hear twenty?
I’m looking for twenty!”
 
The foreigner heaves a sigh as if this is entirely too troublesome. “Nineteen.”
 
Mika slides obediently to his knees, no matter the anxiety that twists in his
stomach. The youngest, tiniest of the bunch immediately gloms onto him,
trembling and terrified, and he sets a hand on her head, stroking her hair
slowly.
 
“Nineteen days, that’s about how long we can hold them before the king gets
suspicious.”
 
Right—that’s it. The name escapes him, or maybe he never had a chance to
actually place it to a face, but the man is absolutely connected to the
crown—or the crown that once-was, and specifically, part of the coup that had
been so soundly against Leo, the men that had tried to corner Arashi for
interrogation in the Sandlands years ago. It’s unsurprising, but unsettling
still. There aren’t exactly many options these days about who it could be; some
of those men are dead, one imprisoned, others exiled. Belatedly, Mika tugs up
his scarf again to better hide his face. Probably, he’s unrecognizable, but
there’s always a chance.
 
“Nineteen, nineteen, I’ll tell you gentlemen, I don’t think her seller is going
to--”
 
“Twenty-five,” Adonis interrupts, drawing startled murmurs from the back of the
audience. He stands, holding up his purse, and looks behind, as if daring the
other man to continue. “I will collect my purchase now.”
 
The auctioneer pales slightly, and looks at the other bidder. “Ah...my lord,
should you wish to place another bid...?”
 
The man’s jaw clenches in irritation, and he sits down with a wave of his hand,
begrudgingly resigning. “There’ll always be another,” he mutters, leaning to
the side to whisper to one of his attendants.
 
Who? Who the hell is that?Mika desperately thinks, and he almost climbs to his
feet before being bid, too overeager to grab Adonis’s newest purchase and
immediately interrogate them. He catches himself belatedly, and focuses instead
on the handful of slaves now clinging to him. “Milord—perhaps that’s enough for
now,” he cautiously whispers.
 
Adonis hesitates, then nods. “Please go get her from the stage,” he asks Mika
quietly. He gathers up the short leashes of the children kneeling by his seat--
the smallest, the weakest ones they’d had to offer, four including the fair-
haired child--and waits for Mika, just as eager as he is to leave this place.
 
Mika nods, quickly rising with a bow of his head to go and do as he’s asked.
The child immediately flinches back when he reaches for her, a wide-eyed,
trembling mess where she kneels. He hesitates, then grabs her by the hand,
pulling her forward to be easily picked up. She feels like skin and bones, much
lighter than either of Izumi’s children ever have been. “Easy,” he whispers in
common tongue. “You’ll be safe now.”
 
A language she can actually understand is enough to calm her, apparently, and
her trembling relaxes somewhat as she clings to his neck, face buried into his
hair. He quickly turns to follow Adonis, sparing a wary glance to where the
other, older bidder had been seated—but he’s gone now, and that’s troubling.
 
“This is more than I’ve ever purchased,” Adonis mutters, looking side to side,
ushering Mika and the children towards the exit. Theft isn’t uncommon, in the
underbelly of this city, and he can’t be everywhere at once.
 
“The best defense is an obvious willingness to do violence.” A friend had told
him that once, and Adonis takes that advice now, resting his hand on his
cutlass hilt the way he never does in public. “Grab on to me, if you need to,”
he says to Mika, and starts to make his way through the thick crowds.
 
Mika immediately grabs onto the back of Adonis’s shirt, clinging tightly. With
his nerves already on edge, crowds like this make his head spin, and it takes
effort to focus enough. Having a very terrified child latched onto him is
helpful—if he’s not doing it for himself, at least for a child, he can manage
it.
 
Keeping up with Adonis isn’t the easiest task, especially when he ends up
scooping up another child slave that can’t quite keep up. “Milord—the second
we’re able, we need to talk,” he lowly insists, trembling a bit himself as
Adonis retrieves their horses from the hostler. “Privately.”
 
Adonis nods, and starts piling children onto his horse, managing three of them
on his own mount, Mika and the last child on the other. He looks up at the
children on his horse, and assures them, “This is a very smart, very strong
horse. He will take care of you, because you are little. No one can hurt you
when you’re in the saddle, so hang on tight. Mika, will you translate, please.”
He starts to lead them out of the market, his step quick, eyes still wary.
 
“His horse will protect you and no one will touch you, so just hang on tight,”
Mika softly, succinctly tells them, not wanting anyone hear him speak common
tongue more than necessary, even in a crowded market. The little girl in his
arms clings tighter to him, refusing to allow even a centimeter between them.
“That man—I noticed he left rather quickly,” he says to Adonis, his own
nervousness bleeding through into his voice. “You know him. Is he going to try
and steal her because he lost?”
 
“Not from me.” Adonis takes a deep breath, leading the horses out through the
gates. “But it might make for some awkward family dinners. He’s married to my
oldest sister.”
 
Mika’s blood runs cold. “I hadn’t seen him around the palace,” he whispers, his
fingers white-knuckled on his horse’s mane. “I didn’t know. I…I know him, too.
But not from that.” 
 
“He doesn’t live at the Palace. He and my sister live in the Capital. But
they’re visiting for the festival season.” Adonis looks behind, but there’s no
pursuit, and he starts to breathe easier. “What did you want to talk about?”
 
“That. This. For starters. He—is his house Blake or Wynne? I know he’s one of
those, I just don’t have a face to the name—he was involved in the coup to
overthrow the king years ago.” Mika winces, self-consciously pulling his scarf
up again. “If he’s around the palace for the season, I’m going to have to be
careful. I don’t think he’d recognize me alone, but…if I’m around Shu, that
might do it, and it could jeopardize all of this. Damn it.”
 
“You aren’t supposed to be around him anyway,” Adonis reminds Mika. “I don’t
mind, of course, but you will get in trouble if you’re somewhere you aren’t
supposed to be. And it’s Wynne, Elvan Wynne.” Adonis pauses, then adds, “I do
not like him.”
 
Mika opens his mouth to argue reflexively that he needs to be around Shu, but
he shuts it a second later, sulking, not wanting to argue about something that
he begrudgingly agrees with. It’s not safe, it’s stupid. Knowing that doesn’t
make it any easier. “He’s a terrible man,” he says instead. “I hope your sister
is…safe, with him, for what that’s worth.”
 
Adonis sets his jaw grimly. “They are...compatible.” He falls silent after
that, hoping that speaks for itself.
 
“…Ah.” That makes Mika’s heart flutter nervously. “Then…the next topic is even
more important. How are we getting these children to safety?”
 
“That part is easy,” Adonis assures him. Having Mika here is a relief.
Otherwise, it would just be him and the children, and they’d likely be afraid
of him. “Rei has set up a place for me to bring anyone in need of help. I have
brought slaves there in the past, often. They’ll work in my service until I can
take them, which should be within the week. If you could tell them...”
 
Mika nods, relieved at that news, at least, and whispers the news to the little
girl clinging to him first, then leans over to relay the same to the others.
They still look nervous, as if they don’t quite believe him, but hopefully,
they’ll realize soon enough that he’s telling the truth. “How much common
tongue can I get away with around your family…” he worriedly wonders aloud.
“Not much, I bet…ah, if your sister and her husband are staying for the whole
festival season, that’s another…four weeks?”
 
“Thirty days,” Adonis confirms. “Until the end of the darkest moon. Mm, I don’t
think common tongue would be too bad. Many of the...many courtesans learn to
impress expensive clients, I think. I don’t know too many. We can take one of
them to the safe house today, but only one can go at a time.”
 
“Where I grew up, it was completely forbidden.” Mika worries at his lower lip.
“If we’re going to take one today, we should take her,” he says, nodding to the
girl clinging to him. “I’ll try to talk to her a bit more and find out who her
parents are, but she’s clearly some nobleman’s daughter. If we return her, then
maybe that’ll spark more interest from the capital to put a proper end to the
trade.”
 
Adonis slows his pace, frowning slightly. “I...don’t want to sound negative,”
he says quietly. “But just in case anything happens...perhaps you should ask
her what she knows before we say goodbye to her.” It’s a callous thing to say,
he thinks, and would be better in Rei’s mind than his own.
 
“I was going to try…but…well, look at her.” The girl hasn’t once lifted her
face from where it’s stuffed into his chest, and Mika can feel little bruises
starting to form where her nails dig into his skin. “Maybe once she has a meal
and a safe place to be for a few hours, she’ll calm down, but…”
 
Adonis nods. “Then let’s get one of the others out while we can.” He lapses
into silence again, then adds, “I’ve never taken more than one person at a
time. How do I tell them I’m choosing between them?”
 
“I’ll explain it to them. Slaves…they understand that sort of thing more than
you’d think, you know. It’s not the first time one of them has been chosen over
the other.” Mika exhales a slow breath, briefly shutting his eyes. “I’m sorry.
I know I’m not exactly…the best at trying to get my point across or at being in
the middle of all of this, but I…I really do appreciate all the help.”
 
Adonis looks up at Mika as if trying to figure out the meaning behind the
words. “This is what I do,” he says simply. “Whenever I can. It isn’t enough.
But I hope if I work with people who are doing more, it might be enough
someday. People like you.”
 
“What you’re doing is more than most people,” Mika protests. “I’m barely able
to do anything at all—I…I wish I could go into the auction houses like that and
buy all of them, but that’s not fixing the problem, and that’s so stressful,
it’s…”
 
The girl in his arms butts her face harder against his shoulder. “I want my
mommy,” she whispers.
 
It’s like a punch to the gut. Mika’s lower lip trembles and he squeezes her
closer, rubbing a hand down her back. “It’s okay, you’ll get to go home soon,”
he quietly promises, looking down at Adonis. “I’m not cut out for this,” he
says with a wet laugh. “I get too attached. Are you sure we can’t drop more
than one off?”
 
“They only go up to the Capital once every week,” Adonis says quietly. “And
they can only take one at a time. There’d be no one to...” He trails off,
thinking. “We could go. Take them ourselves.”
 
“I can’t leave Shu down here all by himself for that long,” Mika frets, shaking
his head as he cuddles the girl to his chest. “Maybe…I could try to get in
touch with some of my connections in the capital? They could come get them,
then they wouldn’t have to wait so long down here and keep being slaves…”
 
Adonis reaches behind, and lays a gentle hand on Mika’s horse’s reins, so he
doesn’t scare Mika by touching him. “It is temporary. Better to keep them safe
at my side for now, then get them to a better life. If we try to rush, they may
be in danger.”
 
Mika hesitates before he nods, blinking hard to keep his eyes from watering too
much and sending streaks of kohl down his face. “I…I know. You’re right, I’m
sorry, I’m not good at seeing little kids in situations like this. It makes me
want to do really stupid things, and maybe blow up this entire country.”
 
“I would like you not to,” Adonis says very seriously. “You’ll be taking care
of them until we can get them to safety. So please do not blow them up.”
 
“I won’t blow the kids up. Just everything else.” Mika huffs, settling back.
“But I won’t, not really. I can’t. If I’m taking care of them, does that mean
they’ll stay with me? It’d be easier to keep them safe that way…”
 
Adonis nods. “I don’t have any more empty suites in my wing. It’s the smallest
one in the palace. Sorry you were given to the least regarded sibling.”
 
“It’s better this way,” Mika dismisses with a flutter of his hand. “And it’s
also better that you’re the…ah…least regarded sibling. Very little of the
palace pays attention to me, which is helpful. At the end of all of this,
though, if you aren’t the most regarded, I’ll raise hell. You should be on that
throne, not any of your sisters.”
 
Adonis walks for a long few moments without speaking, one foot in front of the
other, the muscles in his legs making quick work of the small sandy dunes
covering the shortcut between the slave market and the palace. A sand lizard
darts in front of him, hissing and spitting, and he steps gently to the side,
avoiding its venom. “I just want to be able to protect small and weak things,”
he says quietly. “However I can do that is good.”
 
“It’s hard to protect people when you aren’t in a position to do so,” Mika
softly says, adjusting the girl against his chest. She finally has stopped
shaking, and is more or less asleep, her fingers clutching at his shoulders.
“Your family makes it hard. The Sandlands in general…make it hard.”
 
Adonis blinks, looking back at Mika. “I want to fix them,” he allows. “But if
they can’t be fixed, I’d rather be where I’m needed than somewhere people have
it easy.”
 
“Obviously. I’m just saying…well. You’ll make a bigger dent in this place
eventually. The only good thing about it these days is the weather,” Mika
huffs, and adds after a second, “And the sweets.”
 
“I heard you like sweets,” Adonis says, disapprovingly. “But someone as small
as you should eat meat. That’s how you get big and strong. I need to get even
bigger, if I’m going to defend myself against my sisters.”
 
“Meat’s no good. I’m as big as I’m going to get, so I might as well just eat
what I like, which isn’t much, anyway. You’re already big, your sisters can’t
be that much bigger.”
 
“Oh. You haven’t met them yet.” Adonis’s expression turns stormy, and he faces
the road again, leading the horses inside the palace grounds proper. “They’re
large. And very powerful. They thought it was very funny when I was small.”
 
“Sounds like I’d rather not meet them if I can help it,” Mika mutters, finally
pulling off his scarf courtesy of the combination of sweatiness and being safe
within the palace grounds again. “They sound…unpleasant.”
 
Adonis nods. “Then I’m describing them correctly. They...taught me that
bullying was wrong. Through showing me what never to do.” He falls silent, not
wanting to be overheard, and stops the horses near the stable, lifting each
child down in turn. “Would you mind getting them settled and meeting me in the
courtyard? I want to know they’re safe and clean.”
 
Mika carefully slides his way off of the horse, trying not to take offense at
the way the animal immediately shudders in relief. Even sealed, you can still
tell, huh? he sadly thinks, resisting the urge to pat its neck apologetically.
That will just stress it out more. “I’ll take care of them, Milord,” he
reassures Adonis, grabbing the hands of two children and urging the other two
to grab onto the back of his silks. “We’re going to go have a bath, all right?”
he softly tells them in common tongue, tugging them along. “And you can be all
safe and comfy in my room.”
 
At the sight of Mika leading the four children, Shu’s face falls into a
dismayed, wonder-filled mask of shock. He watches the little parade, trickling
into their rooms, with nothing so much as bewilderment. “You...have been busy,”
he finally manages in Sandtongue. “I was going to lecture you for being late,
but...”
 
“We made progress,” Mika huffs, glancing quickly about as he pulls the curtain
to his chamber shut behind him. “Hajime?”
 
“Here! Sorry, sorry,” Hajime squeaks, bolting around the corner of the balcony
and immediately pausing to stare wide-eyed at the collection of tiny children.
“Oh…”
 
“Can you draw them a bath? Please? And be nice, they’re really scared…”
 
Hajime nods, though the last suggestion is unnecessary what with how the kids
flock to him as easily as they did Mika. “Common tongue, then?” he softly
tries, holding out his hands. “Come along, come along—you look like you’re no
older than my little sisters and brothers.”
 
Mika heaves a sigh of relief, dropping onto the edge of his bed as all of his
energy seems to seep out of him at once. “Master, slave auctions are no good,”
he miserably says. “Especially when there are so many little tiny kids there…”
 
Shu strokes his hair immediately, pulling a comb and tiny vial of scented oil
from his bedside table, working gently through the knots in his hair. “You
little fool,” he says softly. “You’ve overextended yourself, you know. Did I
just see a Northern child in there? You could have just solved this entire
crisis, you know, but you’re shaking like a leaf.”
 
Mika sags underneath the touch as if his strings were cut. “Mm, she’s
definitely one of the ones missing,” he murmurs, shutting his eyes. “Hasn’t
talked to me yet, too scared, but she’s gotta be. There were so many people,
and so many…so many people for sale, it’s disgusting.” He shivers, curling his
fingers against his knees to try and stop from shaking. “One of the nobles
involved in the coup against Leo. He’s here. He wanted to buy her.”
 
“Do you think...he knew who she was?” Shu asks, immediately trying to send a
mental conversation to Rei, cursing this whole stupid situation when he runs up
against his own mental block. “Mm, just a moment, I’ll write him a letter. Tell
me everything you remember--where it was, how many auctions there were, how
many bidders, the prices--anything you remember.”
 
“I don’t knooow, don’t stop petting me right now, too many questions.” Mika
rubs a hand across his eyes, belatedly remembering he’s wearing makeup. Well,
whatever. “He’s married to Adonis’s sister,” he mutters. “And they’re here for
the season. Apparently, just got in. We’ll have to be careful, I don’t think he
recognizes me, but if we’re together, he might…”
 
Shu nods shortly, and returns to straightening Mika’s hair. “I quite dislike
this whole, not being able to communicate with Rei thing,” he mutters. “It’s
far easier to be in his mind. Of course, it’s quite distracting as well.
Especially right now.”
 
“I’m sorry,” Mika quietly says, sagging a bit more. “If you need to go and get
in touch with him…now might not be a bad time? I can probably…no, I’ll
definitely hold everything down here.”
 
Shu snorts. “Don’t be stupid. I’m not leaving you. I’m certainly not leaving
this place, not when it’s so utterly treacherous at every step of the way.
Certainly not if this goes all the way up to the royal family.” He pauses,
thinking. “Send Hajime to get a message to Keito or...ah, what’s his name,
Rei’s spy. He’s very average, so I forget he exists.”
 
Mika nods, then flops backwards, turning his head to bury his face firmly into
Shu’s neck. “I’m not good at this,” he miserably says. “I just wanna rescue all
of them. They’re so scared, Master, and the things they say at those
auctions…ugh. If I hadn’t been sealed, I’d probably just level the whole place.
Everyone there, they deserve it. No one else was there to rescue anyone like
Adonis was.”
 
“You’re probably right,” Shu says, lips thinning at the thought. “Though, of
course, you don’t know that. Unless you’ve developed a talent for reading
minds.”
 
“No, but I’ve got a talent for telling who’s gross and who isn’t,” Mika
mutters. “Men down here, and women, too—I swear, something’s just wrong in
their heads.”
 
“People are always worse when they think no one else is watching,” Shu says
softly, “and the worst of all when they think they’re among like-minded
creatures. The Academy was the same way. None of them will ever be forgiven.”
 
Mika nods, and lies there for a moment more, cuddled up against Shu before he
sucks in a deep breath and forces himself to straight up, slapping both hands
gently to his own cheeks. “Right, I can do this,” he whispers, a long shiver
going through him before he turns to Shu. “Do I look presentable still? Not too
stressed out? I can’t wait to go home and never brush my hair again…”
 
“You’re leaking,” Shu says quietly, and reaches up, brushing his fingers
against Mika’s temples. He breathes in, then out, and the seals shiver into
better-fitting place. “A little better?”
 
“Mm.” Mika reflexively butts his head into Shu’s touch, unable to stop himself.
“Sorry you have to keep fixing me up. Ahh, wow, I didn’t realize what a
headache I had until it left…”
 
“M-my apologies, but she very much wants you,” Hajime suddenly interjects,
wetter than the child he brings back in, swaddled in an enormous towel with
only her blonde little head poking out. Her arms immediately reach out for
Mika, and Mika meets her half-way, letting her immediately cling to his neck.
 
“Easy, I’m here,” Mika murmurs, adjusting her in his lap to better let her hold
onto him. “Hajime—when you get done, I think Master’s going to have a letter to
pass onto you.”
 
Hajime nods, bowing quickly before darting back off to finish the task of
bathing three more squirmy, scared children. The girl in question peers up at
Mika, then nervously over to Shu. “Don’t be afraid, he’s the nicest man you’ll
ever meet,” Mika reassures her as he looks to Shu worriedly. “She’s tinier than
even Izumin’s kids.” 
 
Shu looks down at the little girl, then sighs. “I think I recognize you--is it
Selmy? Lord Barstian’s daughter? You came to the Capital when your father swore
loyalty to the king, didn’t you? Yes, yes, I have far more a memory for
beautiful children than horrible adults.” He turns, looking through his chest.
“My position isn’t for nothing, you know. Do you like dolls?”
 
“See, I told you he’s the nicest,” Mika whispers, pressing a quick kiss to her
forehead. “You’ll be safe when we’re around, you know? And with Lord Adonis,
he’s a good person.”
 
Selmy still looks hesitant, but her grip loosens a bit on Mika’s clothes as she
watches Shu. “Y…yes,” she eventually, softly answers. “You know my daddy?”
 
“Mm, and we’ll get you back to him and your mama as soon as we can.” Mika
gently combs a few strands of hair out of her face. “Do you remember how you
got all the way here?
 
“Someone…someone mean took me.” She trembles, biting at her lip. “If I tell,
they’ll hurt me, they said that.”
 
“So, a secret.” Shu pulls out a dark-haired, fair-skinned doll, then plucks at
her hair, turning it light blonde with a little flash of minor magic. “This
isn’t just any doll, Selmy. Do you want to see my favorite doll? She’s a
beautiful little girl, just like you.”
 
At a thought, Milady flitters up out of her chair, landing gracefully on his
knee, the one without the other doll on it. “She’s my favorite,” Shu informs
Selmy. “I tell her all of my secrets, and she’s enchanted to keep them forever.
If you give this little girl a name, you can tell her your secrets. How does
that sound?”
 
Selmy’s eyes are wide, and she almost reaches out before looking nervously back
up at Mika. “It’s okay,” he reassures her, tugging the towel off of her head a
bit. “He’s telling the truth, I promise.”
 
“T…then…Lily? That’s my maid’s name…”
 
“I’m sure she’s waiting for you back home—“
 
Suddenly, Selmy shakes her head vehemently, and the tears that well up in her
eyes are fast in coming. “T-they hurt her, too,” she whimpers. “I—I dunno w-who
it was, in the c-c-capital, but he had a priest robe a-and…and he made me go
with him, and s-stay with him, ‘till a lady came…”
 
“Selmy,” Shu says, far more calmly than he feels inside towards a person,
towards a world that would treat such a lovely, innocent person so cruelly, “do
you remember meeting me? Do you remember Lord Rei, that your father brought a
tithe for? He’s very impressive, isn’t he? In fact, he’s looking for your
precious Lily right now, and no one can stop him, not even bad men.”
 
Tears streaming down her face, Selmy slowly nods, sucking in a hiccuping
breath. “H-he was nice,” she whispers. “I t-thought he’d be mean. ’N scary. But
he was nice.”
 
“He sent us both to look for you,” Mika quietly tells her. “So that we could
bring you home safe.”
 
“And we will,” Shu assures her. “You, and all the others that were taken.
That’s the only reason we’re in the Sandlands. You know when adults are lying
to you, don’t you? You’re a smart girl.”
 
She nods again, stuffing her face back down into Mika’s shoulder. “Th…the lady
that came to get us,” she quietly begins again. “She was from here.”
 
Mika exhales a slow breath as he pets a hand over her hair. “They send women
for foreign kids a lot of the time, because north of here…well, everyone thinks
women are sweet and soft, so they trust them,” he wryly says. “Down here,
they’re usually just mean.”
 
“She was mean. Real mean.”
 
“I’m sorry, Selmy. We’ll make sure she gets in trouble, too.”
 
Selmy huffs and huddles into a little ball, not saying another word.
 
“Her father,” Shu says quietly, still in Common tongue, “is the king’s minister
of finance--a position he’s held for years, despite making some very powerful
enemies. Selmy, you know your father is very important, right? Did the mean men
or the woman say anything about him?”Is this political? Or is this just a
matter of a big fish caught in the net set for minnows?
 
Selmy stays silent for a moment, then quietly says, “Nothing about my daddy…but
lots of mean things. About His Majesty.”
 
Mika grimaces at that, giving her a soft squeeze. “You’re being really
helpful,” he says, and leans back, reaching over to his bedside table to pat a
hand around until he finds a set-aside hard candy. “Did they ever call each
other by their names?”
 
She takes the candy immediately, popping it into her mouth as she thinks. “The
mean man never said their names,” she says. “But the lady…it…I think it was
like…Aida? But I dunno…she was scary, so I didn’t wanna listen…”
 
It’s a common name in the Sandlands, but it makes Mika’s heart thump fast for a
moment all the same. “That’s okay, that’s still good,” he says, glancing over
to Shu worriedly. “I don’t get it; are they trying to use them as political
leverage against the king or something?”
 
“It could be a lot of things,” Shu muses, “but this narrows it down quite a
bit. Ah, I need to talk to Rei about this...”
 
He fiddles his fingers nervously for a moment, then turns to Selmy again.
“Sorry to ask you for more help when you’re being so brave, but do you want to
do a magic charm? To keep the mean man and woman away from you forever?” That
isn’t what the magic is going to accomplish, but he’s willing to bend the truth
a little for such an important reason.
 
At that, Selmy brightens—as much as one can brighten when tears are still
streaming freely down their face. “Will it really keep them away?” she eagerly
asks. “I’ll do it, w-whatever it is.”
 
“They’ll never, ever come near you again,” Shu promises, fully prepared to
defend that promise to his death. “Close your eyes. Picture them as clearly as
you can--all of them, every part, what they were wearing. And when you hear a
knock, like the knock on a door? Picture yourself opening that door and showing
me the mean people.”
 
This should be so much easier, he shouldn’t need a child’s aid to see her
memories, but with most of his magic sealed, he’s limited to mental
communication with those he’s touching and simple parlor tricks.
 
Selmy does as she’s told, obediently shutting her eyes as she takes a deep
breath. “They’re not…they’re not gonna know I told on them, right?”
 
“Miss Lily is keeping your secrets, remember?” Mika softly reminds her. “You’re
safe, we’re making sure.”
 
Selmy nervously nods one more time, and tries to picture the people that stole
her away as much as she can. When that knock sounds in her mind, she reaches
for the door that appears—and in spite of being scared, opens it.
 
In her mind, it’s four men—all of them looking like they came from anywhere
North of the Sandlands, except for one, who could’ve been from the Sandlands or
even mixed—and a woman, definitely from the Sandlands. The men are all middle-
aged, somewhere around her father’s age, tall and a couple of them bearded, and
the woman is smaller, delicately boned and thin, with her long, curly black
hair always braided back from her face, a single golden hoop through one
nostril. Just picturing them makes her tremble as she remembers their shouting,
their rough hands and cruel words, and she burrows back into Mika’s chest,
breath hiccuping.
 
The image blazes into Shu’s mind, as clear as a child’s mind can make it, fixed
into his own mind now. Eyes clenched shut, he reaches for his chest, and finds
a small scroll of blank oiled paper. A whispered spell, and he transfers the
images, letting them splash across the page. He turns it, showing Selmy. “See?
They’re trapped. They can’t hurt you now. And Miss Lily is going to keep you
safe, I’ve put a spell on her. If anyone is ever mean to you, just tell Miss
Lily, and she’ll let me know.” It’s true, for what it’s worth, though it’s
mostly based on the low-level listening spell he’s placed on the doll.
 
Selmy manages a shaky little nod, grasping for the doll as she curls into a
tinier ball. “I’m sleepy,” she whispers, looking up at Mika. “I don’t wanna
talk about this anymore.”
 
“That’s fine, that’s fine,” Mika quietly says, giving her hair a gentle
mussing. “Crawl up into the sheets, then, and I’ll tuck you in. You don’t mind
sharing with your new friends when they’re done with their bath, do you?”
 
She shakes her head before moving to do as she’s asked, flattening herself down
into the mattress before Mika piles a blanket around her. Barely a minute
later, she’s practically unconscious, mouth slack, her hands clutching at the
doll in her sleep. “Can you show them to me?” he worriedly asks, scooting close
to Shu once more. “They just look like blurry little blobs with my eyes like
they are…”
 
“Do you need them bigger? Or--no, I’m being foolish, use my eyes.” Magic has
always been a thousand times easier to do with Mika, for what Shu feels are
obvious reasons. He reaches out a hand, taking Mika’s, and looks down at the
page, letting Mika into his mind.
 
Mika barely takes a glance through Shu’s eyes, and jerks his hand back as if
he’s been burned. “Right,” he manages, suddenly as white as a sheet. “That’s…I
got it, y-you should send that to Rei, so maybe he can…”
 
“All clean,” Hajime softly announces, two of the children in his arms with the
other trailing behind him. “Nap time, I think? I see the other little miss is
already in bed…ah, Excellency, are you all right?”
 
Mika nods hurriedly, rising from the edge of the bed. “I-I’m fine. Here, I’ll
help you put them down, it’s fine if they have my bed, I’ll sleep on the chaise
or somethin’…”
 
“No, you’ll sleep with me.” Shu’s voice is firm, and he grabs Mika by the
wrist, holding him with all the strength he doesn’t usually show. “You’ll stay
here tonight, and in the morning, we’ll deal with getting these children to
safety. Hajime, you need to get a message to Rei’s men in the city. I assume
you’re in contact.”
 
“Y-yes?” Hajime quickly helps the children into bed, where they basically pile
around one another like little kittens. “I can take that now, if that suits
you?”
 
Shu nods, pulling out a quill and sketching a quick, coded message. “Take this,
it must go to Rei as quickly as possible. And let them know that I’m requesting
an urgent reply, so if you have any thought of dawdling...no, you wouldn’t,
would you? Ah, you’re a work of art, your face is so lovely...” He trails off,
distracted, and shoves the letter into Hajime’s hand. “Go, there’s no time.”
 
Hajime, flushed and not entirely understanding Shu’s train of thought, bows
deeply all the same, tucking the letter into the breast of his tunic. “I’ll be
back as soon as I’m able, Excellency,” he says, and quickly leaves, the curtain
swinging shut behind him.
 
“L…let me go.” Mika’s voice is small, and decidedly nervous. “I still have to
meet with Adonis tonight.”
 
“You were in my mind,” Shu says quietly. “I know what you were thinking. I...I
know it’s her.”
 
“No. I mean, I might be wrong, I…” Mika sucks in a shuddering breath. “W…what
do I do? I thought…” I thought she was dead, she’s supposed to be, how could
she be alive?
 
“It doesn’t matter. You’ll never see her.” Shu squeezes Mika’s hand in both of
his. “Shall I give you a Miss Lily of your own?”
 
Mika shakes his head, looking aside, bringing a hand to his mouth to chew on a
painted nail before he thinks it through. “No. No, I…w-what if she’s here,
doing dealings directly with the palace? Those men, they look like they could
be anyone from the capital—gods, she’s been in the capital, I’m gonna be sick.”
 
Shu looks at Mika, frowning slightly. Then, slowly, he shakes his head. “That’s
enough. We’ve found out more than expected, we’ll leave at first light. There’s
no reason for you to stay in this situation. Don’t argue, I’m pulling rank.”
 
Mika almost relents, almost agrees, because the idea of staying when
something—someone so daunting, so terrifying looms on the horizon makes him
nearly shake harder than Selmy had been moments prior. “I can’t leave, we jus’
started making progress,” he whispers, looking down at his trembling fingers.
“I have to stay. Please, Master, please. If…if she’s part of th’ reason it’s
like this, then I have to do something to stop it. I have to.”
 
Shu’s hands grip Mika’s more tightly, and fire blazes behind his eyes. “You
didn’t cause any of this,” he hisses fiercely. “You’re not responsible for any
of it--none. You’ve done more than your share, and you’re going home in the
morning. This is not your fight. Leave it to the people who want to rule this
land, hmm?”
 
“But this is my country!” The words make a sob well up into his chest, and Mika
jerks back against Shu’s hold, no matter that it does nothing to dislodge it.
“I c-can’t jus’ expect it to get better if I’m doing nothing! And if s-she’s
still here, doing stuff like this, I can’t…I can’t let her, I can’t. These
kids—if…if this keeps goin’, it could be anyone, Izumin’s kids even, and if I
could’ve done something to stop that and I just ran away…”
 
“And if you stay and get yourself killed?” Shu asks, grabbing Mika’s shoulders,
trying not to hurt him but unable to let go. “What good will you be to anyone’s
children then? If you could have saved a hundred, a thousand--but you were too
stubborn to save yourself first? What--what about me, Mika? If anything
happened to you--” Shu chokes off the rest of what he would have said, blinking
rapidly, eyes stinging.
 
Mika huffs out a hot, wet breath, and he lurches forward head thunking against
Shu’s shoulder. “Nothin’s gonna happen to me,” he whispers, saying it as much
to convince himself as he is Shu. “Master, please. Jus’…just let me stay ‘till
the end of the week. If I can’t help with anything else by then, then I’ll go,
but…”
 
“It’s too risky.” Shu strokes Mika’s hair, feeling his fingers glide smoothly
through the combed, gleaming strands. “I hate her for putting you in--well, no,
if I’m going to hate her for something, it’s going back much farther than that,
but currently...”
 
He strokes, and holds, and tries not to feel as though his soul is being torn
in two. “Three days,” he says finally. “Do not argue, I won’t hear it. Argue
and I’ll throw you on a horse right now, you know I can.”
 
Mika exhales a quiet, unhappy noise, and rubs his face pointedly into Shu’s
shoulder. “Three days,” he agrees, curling his fingers against Shu’s back.
“Then…then if nothin’ changes, I’ll go. But if it’s something I gotta stay to
help with, I’m not leaving in the middle of it, I can’t.”
 
“Then you’d best finish it in three days.” Shu’s voice is stern, but his hands
are gentle, softly stroking Mika’s hair, his shoulders, finding every knot of
tension and easing it with the skill of long practice. “Now, go meet with
Adonis. I’ve got a few meetings of my own tonight. And don’t worry, I’ll spell
the room shut when I leave.”
 
Mika’s lips purse at that, wanting to argue again but unable to find the
strength. So he huffs instead, pulling back with a little nod. “I don’t look
bad, do I? I miss when bein’ a whore was just that and all I had to do was be
naked all the time…”
 
Shu snorts. “You look perfect. As if I’d let you look any other way. And
honestly, are you telling me you’d prefer it if this prince were determined to
throw you over every reasonably flat surface?”
 
“Kinda, yeah. He’d be easier to deal with.” Mika pauses, and adds, rather
sulkily, “And no one’s ever told me they didn’t wanna have sex with me before,
but he did.”
 
“Liar. I told you that, when you were twelve.”
 
“Yeah, but you didn’t mean it.”
 
Shu scowls. “Leave before you get a spanking.”
 
It would be very easy to change his mind immediately and just stay here until
morning when they can leave this all behind. That’s what Shu wants from him,
and a huge part of Mika does just want to run away from this and go back to
hiding in the capital, or the west, or the north, wherever he’s dragged to at
any given point.
 
One last, blurry glance to the bed and the four children curled up there,
however, silences that thought, and Mika sucks in a steadying breath.
“Hopefully, I’ll be back soon,” he says, and quickly makes his way out of the
room.
 
At least he isn’t hassled on his way to the now-familiar courtyard, and Mika
can spot Adonis’s particular foggy silhouette less from appearance, more from
the way he holds himself, and the oils that he wears most of all. He bows his
head immediately, unsure of who might be watching. “Your Highness wished to see
me?”
 
Adonis nods, and looks around, seeing if they’re alone. “Do you want to walk
through the courtyard when we talk? I find it more pleasant to move while I
speak.”
 
Mika nods, reaching out instinctively to take Adonis’s arm. “If that’s what His
Highness wishes.”
 
What would he think of her being involved in this?
 
The thought makes a tremor go down Mika’s spine, and his fingers grip tightly
for a moment. “Your new slaves are settling in—my apologies it took so long to
answer your summons.”
 
Adonis nods, though his eyes crease in pain when Mika mentions slaves. He’s
never quite managed to hide his feelings about the practice, despite mockery
and “education” from his siblings and tutors about the natural way of the
world. “It’s all right. Here, I brought you meat.” He pulls out a paper-wrapped
package of fragrant, grilled beef, offering it.
 
Mika’s stomach gives an unpleasant churn, and he turns his face away, trying
not to look as sick as he feels. “I’m really fine, Highness,” he says
dismissively. “I’d rather just talk instead of eat, thank you.”
 
Adonis frowns, and unwraps the beef further, holding it closer to Mika’s face.
“You haven’t eaten today,” he says disapprovingly. “Take just one strip. It’s
good for you.”
 
Irritation compounding stress makes Mika’s temper flare more than he’d like.
Unthinking, he releases Adonis’s arm to slap his hand away. “Stop trying to
force me to eat. I’ll eat when I’m hungry and that’s not right now. Can we
please just walk and discuss what needs to be discussed so I can go take care
of those children? That’s much more important.”
 
A screech of aghast disbelief sounds from behind them, and Adonis’s face goes
suddenly pale. “No,” he whispers, obviously shaken, turning to see the
approaching storm that is his second-oldest sister.
 
She’s an enormous woman, broad-shouldered with visibly muscled arms, and her
face is twisted into a mask of horror and fury. She strides fast on long legs,
grabbing Mika by the hair and throwing him to the ground. “Insolent wretch,”
she snarls, attracting the attention of everyone nearby, as all conversations
in the sparse courtyard fall silent. “You dare to strike a prince? Filthy
mongrel!” she punctuates her words with kicks, driving her booted foot into
Mika’s sides and back.
 
Adonis grabs her arm. “Sister, please--”
 
Her backhand is swift, cracking across his face and sending him to the ground.
“And you--letting a slave act your master in public? Soiling your family name?”
She snaps, and a slave appears at her side, instantly kneeling next to her
hand. “Fetch Lady Wynne. I’ll need her approval for this execution.”
 
Chest heaving, Mika stays otherwise still, knowing better than to beg, or to
even as much as lift his face. To be fair, I deserved that, a reflexive, quiet
part of his brain tells him, while the rest is a roaring, hissing, hazy mess,
making his vision cloud more than even now as he tastes blood on his tongue.
His nails scrape against the courtyard stone slowly as he curls into a tinier
ball, feeling the far steadier leak of his magic around the confines of its
seal. That’s far more painful than throbbing bruises and an undoubtedly snapped
rib, and it makes him tremble. Not now, not now, not now.
 
“This sort of behavior soils your family name, considering I was promised a
sweet, yet strong-willed lovely Southern lady of noble birth. I’ve met a few of
them, but then there’s you, Princess.”
 
The voice is high and soft, yet excruciatingly condescending in brusque,
masculine Sandtongue with scarcely a hint of an accent, and Mika’s head jerks
up in spite of himself to catch a glimpse of who it belongs to. The Master of
Coin, Nazuna of the Nito household, strides across the courtyard, the tall
heels of his boots clicking sharply across stone. “Having this sort of display
be a public matter for your guests to see is unsightly,” he snaps, fearlessly
glaring up at Adonis’s sister. “But more than that, you’d execute a slave I
personally received a commission from the purchase of?”
 
Hestea, second daughter of the Sandlands, looks down, and down, chest heaving
as she meets those fierce red eyes. The anger drains from her, and she steps
back, pretending at demure graces, giving a deep, rather belated curtsy.
“Coinmaster,” she breathes, aiming for coquettish and missing entirely. “I
meant no disrespect to your house, of course, but the wretch dared to strike my
beloved brother...”
 
“You are mistaken, Sister.” Adonis’s voice is quiet and shaken. His cheek
throbs painfully, but he ignores it, kneeling next to Mika, then lifting him
off the ground. “He didn’t strike me. I tried to tell you.”
 
Mika immediately latches onto Adonis’s neck, face buried into his shoulder,
shaking as if he’s been dunked into the North’s coldest lakes. Nazuna’s stare
is unimpressed, arms folded across his chest as he watches Hestea’s belated
curtsy with disdain.
 
“The assumption your ‘beloved brother’ can’t handle his own slaves is insulting
at best. Are you looking down on me? This is the sort of disrespectful behavior
your father expects me to marry? I’ll have an audience with him now, if
necessary.” 
 
Hestea throws herself to the ground, grabbing one of his boots, all thoughts of
decorum gone. “Coinmaster, please! Allow my miserable self to make it up to
you--I beg of you--inspire me with your mercy, please!”
 
Nazuna’s eyes roll visibly, and he shakes her off his leg with a huff of
breath, trying not to look as if the sheer act of her grabbing him is enough to
knock him over. “Enough, enough, stop begging, have some class, woman. Get out
of my sight, I won’t speak to your father. This time.”
 
“Thank you, Coinmaster, thank you!”
 
Hestea, not wanting to press her luck, draws herself up and runs from the
courtyard, not meeting eyes with anyone. The few spectators, however, quickly
find reason to leave, and nearly all of them exit after the direction Hestea
had gone, giggling amongst themselves.
 
All, however, except two.
 
In the shadows, an enormous man with red hair stands still, hand over the
Toymaker’s mouth, other arm tight as a vice around his waist. He moves as soon
as the courtyard is empty, moving to Nazuna’s side, not letting go of Shu.
“That was quick thinkin’, Sir,” he tells his boss, looking down at his captive.
“Should I let him go?”
 
“I don’t know, is he going to behave himself?” Nazuna snaps in common tongue,
whirling around to abruptly face Kuro and Shu both. Setting eyes properly on
Shu after so long makes his teeth grit, and his hands ball into fists at his
sides. “Let him speak, but don’t let him go,” he settles upon. “What were you
going to do? S..set this whole place ablaze?”
 
The second Kuro’s enormous hand leaves Shu’s mouth, he lets out a sob,
struggling forward, trying to get to Mika. “I won’t forgive you for this--is he
breathing? He’s got to be--”
 
“Won’ forgive him?” Kuro snorts. “He saved your damn fool life an’ ya know it.
Stop bein’ that way, he just got kicked a couple o’times, right?”
 
Adonis nods, and turns so that Mika can meet Shu’s grief-stricken, utterly
white face. “Coinmaster, that was very quick thinking. I owe you a debt.”
 
“Give him a sliver of credit, you—you idiot, he’s obviously tougher than he
looks,” Nazuna hisses at Shu, looking aside in pure, unadulterated irritation.
 
Mika lifts his face shakily, unwinding an arm from Adonis’s neck to stretch his
hand out towards Shu. “I’m okay,” he softly says. “R-really, Master, I’m…I’m
okay.”
 
“See? He’s fine, just a little bruised up. Let him handle himself, he knew how
to best deal with that bitch—which is to say to keep his damned mouth shut,”
Nazuna crossly says. “You butting in, what would that have done but riled
everyone up? You could’ve gotten him killed, yourself included.”
 
“This ain’t the place for this,” Kuro grunts. “By your leave, Sir. We shouldn’t
even all be meeting in public.”
 
“You’re right, but I don’t trust him not to explode the second you let him go,”
Nazuna growls, nose in the air. “Whatever. Bring him to my chambers, I’ll
continue scolding him there until he can calm down. If anyone asks why, well,
he certainly speaks like a Sandlands whore, my mistake.”
 
“Don’t say things like that about him!” Mika suddenly, vehemently protests,
squirming in Adonis’s arms and regretting it immediately with a gasp of pain.
 
Nazuna pauses as if he’s going to say something else particularly biting, then
huffs, turning on his heel to stalk off when he decides it’s not worth it.
 
“Well. That makes my job easier,” Kuro says with a shrug, tossing Shu’s limp
body over his shoulder. He bows to Adonis, who walks in front of him, totally
unaware of what is going on.
 
“These men are friends of yours?” Adonis asks Mika quietly, following the clack
of Nazuna’s heels.
 
Mika hesitates, his fingers curling against the back of Adonis’s neck. “The
really big one is Kuro, he…he works with a friend of mine,” he quietly answers
in Sandtongue. “And the blonde one, he’s…I don’t know him that well, but he and
my master, they have some history together. I’m surprised he stepped in—they
don’t…really get along…”
 
“In,” Nazuna orders once they reach his quarters, his toe tapping impatiently
until they all file inside, and he yanks the door shut. “Throw him on the bed,
Kuro, dump some cold water on him to snap him out of it.”
 
“Be nice to him!” Mika protests again, twisting in Adonis’s arms in spite of
the spike of pain that makes him breathe in sharply. “He—he didn’t do anythin’
wrong, I’m the one that screwed up, it’s my fault…”
 
“Ya didn’t see what he was ‘bout to do,” Kuro growls, setting Shu on the bed
hard enough that his head bounces a little, but hardly ‘throwing’ him. “We was
talkin’. Then he screamed, b’fore you even did, and ran out here, I barely
caught him. Popped his damn seal off, so, nah, we can’t wait for him to wake
up.”
 
He grabs a bucket of icewater from the corner, where it’s currently at work
chilling a bottle of champagne, and splashes it down over Shu’s face. Shu
gasps, sputtering, and immediately blinks his eyes open. “Mika? Where’s--”
 
“Here, I’m here, Master—Adonis, put me down, I’m okay, I swear!”
 
“You get put down after he seals himself again and isn’t thinking about
leveling this place to the ground,” Nazuna snaps, standing between the two of
them as his gaze whips over to Shu again. “Go on. He’s safe, you can see that.”
 
Shu meets Nazuna’s eyes for a pain-filled second, then shuts them. A moment
later, the tension in the room eases palpably as his seals click into place,
and he shudders. “That was...not my finest moment,” he mutters.
 
Adonis sets Mika down on the bed. “There, you’re free.”
 
Immediately, Shu stars touching Mika all over, tears in his eyes, lips
trembling. “You idiot, you utterly useless fool, what did I ever do in my life
to be saddled with such a failure, are you all right?”
 
Mika’s own lower lip wobbles as he nods frantically, throwing himself into
Shu’s arms in spite of how that makes a little pained, hiccuping gasp escape
him. “I-it was my fault,” he miserably says, clinging to Shu’s shoulders, face
buried into his neck. “S-sorry, I’m sooorry…”
 
“God, they’re meant for one another,” Nazuna irritably mutters, looking away
and over to Adonis with a frown. “We’ve barely had a chance to speak,” he says
in Sandtongue. “But  I guess now is as good a time as any, Your Highness.
Pleased to meet you, your sisters are terrible.”
 
Adonis nods. “If you think that, then you are welcome here. I agree. Thank you
for intervening in my stupid mistake. I hope you will not feel the need to
marry my sister.”
 
Shu’s words have devolved into nonsense at this point, all whispered into
Mika’s hair.
 
“I don’t, but I’ll continue to lead her on as long as I feel necessary. I think
we’re all here for the same reason—the slave trade.” Nazuna pauses, glancing
back over to Mika and Shu, then sighs, looking away again. “While they’re being
useless, I’ll just tell you. Your father wants me on as his primary financial
advisor for the trade that he’s running right through their palace. Seems to
think I’ll bring in investors from the capital. Apparently, your sister’s
husband isn’t bringing in as many as he promised.”
 
Adonis nods slowly. “Then perhaps there is hope for my country yet,” he says
softly. “I do not want to believe that all the people are willing to exploit
the weak. Forgive me for asking, but who do you swear loyalty to?”
 
“Money,” Kuro says with a snort. He settles on a sturdy stool near the bed, and
pulls out his knife, sharpening it carefully on a whetstone.
 
“Rude, that’s rude,” Nazuna snaps, folding his arms as he glowers at Kuro for a
hot second. “But not incorrect. Don’t worry, Prince. Your family can’t outbid
the capital’s crown. Also, I have connections with the Kingsguard—beyond this
brute here—that I’m fond of.” He pauses, then adds, “Unfortunately, it’s less a
matter of not being able to find people willing to exploit everyone else, and
more the border control stopping them in their tracks. The trade is trying to
go far north these days, and transport is expensive if it’s done right. That’s
why your family wants me.”
 
“North?” Adonis frowns. “I didn’t know the North was involved in any part of
this...I must rethink some things.”
 
“Not the North,” Kuro corrects. “North. And East.”
 
“The Hinterlands, if we’re going to be specific. And the Shadowlands, if we’re
going to get nitpicky.” Nazuna drops himself down onto the end of the bed,
finally giving into how much his feet hurt. “No, the North is unproblematic in
this mess. In fact, we’ve got the support of their scion, as much as he can
dole it out. He’s on call, so if you need those new slaves you bought today out
of here, I can make that happen.”
 
“Please,” Adonis says gratefully. He looks around, then bows his head. “Just
let me know where to send them. I want them safe.”
 
Kuro moves, kneeling at Nazuna’s feet, starting to unlace his high-heeled
boots. “I’ll escort them to the safe passage myself, you have my word. No
one’ll take ‘em from me.”
 
“It might take a day or two to get the transport ready, but if you can hold off
until then, I guarantee they’ll be taken to safety.” Nazuna exhales a tiny sigh
of relief, but doesn’t move other than to extend one leg at a time for easier
boot removal.
 
Mika’s head slowly lifts from Shu’s chest, his face streaked with wet, running
kohl. “Did you…did you say that the North’s scion was gonna be in charge of
transport?” he hoarsely asks, sniffling. “I wanna see him.”
 
“I doubt he’ll be coming himself,” Nazuna snorts, then he hears the waver in
Mika’s breathing before he actually looks at his face, and sighs. “I mean, I
guess I can ask him to, but…”
 
“I can get in contact quick,” Kuro assures him, plucking at the laces. “Us
Kingsguard got some tricks that we don’t share with the rest of ya.”
 
Adonis nods. “Do you need anything...else from me?” he asks, and at the shake
of Kuro’s head, takes his leave, the door shutting quietly behind him.
 
“Bes’ thing I can say for him,” Kuro grunts, moving on to the next boot, “is
he’s nothin’ like his family. Oi, Mika, that ain’t reason to hit ‘im, though.”
 
As if on cue, Mika immediately bursts into tears—actual, wracking sobs that
he’s obviously been fighting back the entire time Adonis was present. “I d-d-
didn’t m-mean to—I’m j-jus’ so sick of this, of all of it, and he w-won’t stop
tryin’ to make m-me eat things I h-h-hate and he won’t listen an’—“
 
“You did this,” Nazuna wearily says over Mika’s sobbing, knocking his bare foot
against the side of Kuro’s head. “Asshole.”
 
Kuro doesn’t flinch, but stands slowly with the creaking of floorboards,
setting Nazuna’s boots to the side. “I’ll go contact my Captain,” he offers.
“Unless...” He raises an eyebrow at Mika and Shu, sobbing in each others’ arms,
then looks back at Nazuna. “You want me to stay? Or, uh, come with me?”
 
Nazuna turns his head, staring at the sobbing messes on his bed, and heaves a
sigh. “What’s the point in trying to have a conversation with that,” he
mutters, staring back up at Kuro. “At least they’ll have some peace and quiet
in here for a minute. Carry me, my feet hurt.”
 
Kuro scoops him up without question, making a seat of his forearm, leaving the
two wizards behind. “You did real good,” he says, so quietly it’s nearly under
his breath, once they’re out of earshot. “Even better than I thought you would.
Fast damn thinkin’. I’m proud t’be around you.”
 
“Quit it, that’s enough from you,” Nazuna self-consciously grumbles, shoving
half-heartedly at Kuro’s chest. “I’m just glad I didn’t start stuttering like a
moron. I guess if I’m trying to keep us all from being blown up, my tongue
actually works.”
 
“It works plenty at other times, too.” Kuro says the words innocently, looking
as if he’s talking about something totally apart from anything that would make
someone blush. “That’s twice that guy’s almost blown me up.”
 
Nazuna scowls, but otherwise doesn’t deign the former statement with a
response. “I want to tell him off more, but all he’ll do is cry.” His lips
purse, and he adds moodily, “He can’t even look at me. How’s he supposed to
keep that little…whatever of his safe if he can’t even look at me? Idiot.”
 
“If anythin’,” Kuro grunts, heading out of the Palace and towards the nearby
guardspost, “looks like Mika’s the one takin’ care of him. Not surprised, that
guy’s always been too delicate. Dunno why he’s even here.”
 
“To cry. Always, just to cry. Can I send him back with Izumi, too?”
 
Kuro shrugs. “Doubt either of ‘em will wanna stay much after that. I’ll
recommend to Izumi that he take ‘em both back, doubt they’ll fight it.”
 
“Good. The idea of having to work around two riled up, nervous wizards makes me
want to scream,” Nazuna mutters. “They’re lucky I was around. And now Mika’s
got a target on his back—that wretch they want me to marry isn’t going to
forget this and she’s not going to let it go.”
 
“She don’t seem like the type t’forgive an’ forget,” Kuro agrees. “An’ she
might try an’ do more ‘favors’ for ya, t’convince ya to marry her. Tha’s just
no good.”
 
“You look like you’re going to start laughing. Don’t. I don’t want to remember
the last time she tried to corner me while on her knees.”
 
“I’m not laughing.” And he isn’t, mouth set grimly. “I’d rather eat glass than
see ya with a woman like that. She’s rotten inside, there ain’t nothin’ good
about the way she treats people.”
 
“All of those sisters are. Disgusting, every last one of them. Don’t worry,
there’s no sum they could pay me to get me to marry her at this point.”
Nazuna’s mouth twists. “I’ll see Hajime sent home as well. Having him caught up
in this…it’s not right.”
 
“He’s too small,” Kuro agrees. “Damned if I wanna send him back t’where
folks’re gonna send him into stuff like this. Maybe I’ll just bring him home to
Kallie, let her fatten him up a bit. She could use another houseboy.”
 
“He came at Rei’s request, that damned barbarian. I’ll tell him off later, and
make sure Hajime can stay in High Harbor with his…whatever that boy is to him.”
Nazuna shifts grumpily. “Wizards, actually, are the problem.”
 
“Stick to half-breeds,” Kuro advises. “Me and Izumi are way more reliable, and
harder t’kill, too. Ya might not get rid of us, though...”
 
“That’s fine, I can keep you both in line,” Nazuna sniffs. “He fits in a bag,
and you—well, whatever, you do what I say. Unlike wizards, they’re all awful,
high strung, and fairly useless.”
 
Kuro pats Nazuna’s shoulder with his free hand. “I wonder how many bags I’d
need for all of ‘em? Ah, here’s the guardspost, you gotta wait outside.”
 
“Some. There are too many wizards. And to hell with you, I pay you enough that
you should let me in on these Kingsguard secrets.”
 
Kuro snorts. “That ain’t how moonlightin’ works. Ya know what my first loyalty
is.” But that line is accompanied with a slow wink, as Kuro sets Nazuna gently
down on a stone bench just outside the guardspost. “Be out in a minute.”
 
“You’re an ass,” Nazuna bluntly informs him and sits primly, crossing his legs
at the ankle. “Take too long and I’ll dock your so-called moonlighting pay.”
 
“Do that and I’ll take it out of your hide later,” Kuro teases, and lumbers
into the guardspost. Sure enough, just two minutes later, he exits, chewing.
“He’s on his way,” he confirms, swallowing and popping another piece of bread
in his mouth, pilfered from the huge ovens feeding the guards. “Day and a half,
he says. He’ll meet us at the safe house at dusk.”
 
“Did you warn him you’re shoving more than children at him?” Nazuna presses,
frowning up at him. “He better be equipped to deal with those lunatics.”
 
Kuro snorts. “I didn’ expect him to juggle ‘em the whole way home. Sure I told
him, he’s bringin’ a second horse or a cart or somethin’.” He scoops Nazuna up
again, and raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Command yer chariot. Where to,
Sir?”
 
Nazuna exhales a low, grumpy sound as he lists to the side, flopping into
Kuro’s chest. “Part of me wants to go back in there and try to talk to him
before we avoid one another for another ten years,” he mumbles. “Another part
of me wants to say ‘to hell with it’ and go make money off of greedy Sandlands
nobles instead. Thoughts?”
 
“Talk,” Kuro says instantly. “He’s a bastard and a pain, but he’s a good man.
An’ tryin’ t’be better, which is less than I can say for a lot of folks.”
 
“If he just starts crying again, I’m going to leave.”
 
“If that’s yer plan, ya might as well not bother and ya know it.”
 
“To hell with you, you’re just a chariot. Take me back and don’t you dare get
bread crumbs on me.”
***** Chapter 32 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Izumi makes the executive decision to not exactly tell Leo why he’s heading
West in a hurry.
 
Telling him runs the risk of Leo wanting to come and bring Mika’s gift with
him. One, he’s not interested in dealing with that while trying to travel. Two,
he hasn’t mentioned it to Arashi yet, and doesn’t want to die by his best
friend’s hand.
 
The West is less than welcoming to him, for whatever reason. Arriving at
Arashi’s estate seems to reveal less about impending weddings and more about
stress, and requesting an audience with Arashi himself grants him more than a
few dark looks. Fucking why, it’s not like I’m trying to steal him away
permanently,Izumi grumpily thinks, and being told to wait outside of Arashi’s
audience hall is enough to make him roll his eyes to the advisor. Who cares if
they think he’s rude, at this point?
 
When the doors open, Arashi’s eyes light up, and he immediately ushers everyone
else out. The second the doors close, he grabs Izumi in a hug right in the
middle of the council chamber, so tight he hears bones creak. “I can’t believe
you got my message so fast, I swear I only sent that boy an hour ago--ugh,
obviously I’m losing track of time with all this stupid stress...are you here
to rescue me?”
 
“How sure are you that we don’t have a soul bond after all?” Izumi wheezes,
lifted clear off the ground for a moment when Arashi hugs him. He pats Arashi’s
back, eventually rocking back onto his heels. “Too much, too much—I didn’t get
your message, but I’ve got my own plans. We’re going south, and yeah, I’m
rescuing your dumb ass.”
 
“My bride disappeared,” Arashi tells him, sounding far less distraught than he
probably should, but honestly, it’s not like he’s ever met the girl. “The first
one died, so they apparently got me a replacement, and then she ran away--but
the contract is still valid, so until they find her, I can’t marry anyone.” His
eyes sparkle, and he grabs Izumi’s hands. “Let’s go, before they find her. I
get to be in mourning for my poor lost love what’s-her-name for a couple weeks
out of respect.”
 
Izumi blinks a few times, then shrugs, reversing Arashi’s grip to drag him
swiftly out of the council room. “That’s so convenient—finally, something is,
of course it’s got to be a dead fiance. I mean, uh, greatest sympathies for
your dead wife-to-be and your missing one,” he says when some old advisor
shoots him a glare out of the corner of his eye as he pulls Arashi down the
hall. “So, back to business, some briefing. We’re going to the Sandlands.”
 
“Oooh, are we going to see Mika?” Arashi’s step quickens, as if he’s going to
run the whole way there. “Is everything all right with him?”
 
“Yeah.” Kuro’s firm, urgent request says otherwise, but there’s not much good
that’ll come out of Arashi thinking about that. “But they’ve apparently made
enough of a breakthrough in the whole mess that he can leave. We’re pulling him
and Shu out, and some of the kids he found. Apparently, one of them’s one of
the missing noble girls.”
 
Arashi sucks in a breath. “Which one? Ugh, if it’s not Lord Asheby’s daughter,
he’s going to be all over me even more than he already is.”
 
Izumi slows a step, his eyebrows raising. “Do I need to speak with him? It’s
Lord Barstian’s daughter, apparently. I don’t know the full extent of how many
kids he’s found since then, though, if any.”
 
Arashi waves a hand. “Nothing you can do, he just wants to remind me every five
minutes or so that he was the first one to endorse me for High Lord ten years
ago, and letting his daughter be tortured or whatever is a pretty bad way to
repay him. Plus, he keeps crying, and it makes me feel so uncomfortable...”
 
“Then let’s get far away from that mess, because there’s nothing you can do
about it that you aren’t already doing. Captain Subaru’s going to meet us half-
way to presumably finally wed his beloved, I guess.” Izumi hesitates, then
lowly adds, “Kuro warned me there’s a pretty heavy presence of traitors against
the crown down there, so that can mean basically anything. I’m hoping we won’t
have to venture that close to the thick of it, but if for some reason we
do—well, ready to be a hero again for slaying a bunch of runaway criminals?”
 
Arashi, in answer, just thumbs the hilt of his sword. “Been a while since I
used this against a human,” he says softly. “I can’t say I’ve missed it...but
I’m not afraid to be your shining hero again, either.”
 
Izumi snorts, but pointedly doesn’t look at him. “Don’t be disgusting. Save
that kind of talk for Mika. Oh, by the way.” From the inside of his breast
pocket, he pulls free a tiny lapel pin—the Kingsguard emblem, crossed swords
embossed in bright gold—and presses it into Arashi’s palm. “This is official
Kingsguard business, so you’ve got to play the part, Vice Captain. Otherwise,
you can’t come along.”
 
Arashi takes the pin, then hesitates. “This isn’t a trick, right? Is there some
obscure law that if I put this on, I have to do whatever you want and leave my
dominance behind?”
 
“I mean, I’m pretty sure I could get the king to put that into law, if you
want,” Izumi says with a roll of his eyes. “But no, it’s not like that, no
matter how much I deserve to have you at my beck and call.”
 
Arashi rolls his eyes. “If anything, you should leave the Kingsguard and work
for me,” he declares, sticking the pin through his shirt, being careful not to
snag any threads. “I mean, don’t, someone’s gotta keep his Majesty alive,
but...ahhh, it’s a nice thought...hey, who’s keeping His Majesty alive if both
you and your Vice-Captain are away?”
 
“Kasa. And he’s hating every second of it, which I think is sort of hilarious.”
Izumi tries not to slide an admiring glance over Arashi—it’s just a pin, damn
it, it’s not like it means anything or takes him back to a muggy night in the
Sandlands when Arashi had declared he was going to hold that position one day.
“Anyway. Let’s get you packed up and get out of here, your estate’s full of
grouchy old men and I’m not here for it.”
 
Arashi pouts a little. “But I want to strut around and show off my new
jewelry,” he protests, fingering the pin a little. “But you’re right, they’ll
take any opportunity to talk about how bad I am at my job...did you bring Vale,
or your demon horse?”
 
“If I was going to buy you jewelry, it’d be diamonds, not a scuffed up piece of
gold,” Izumi mutters. “Unfortunately, I brought the demon horse. Apparently,
they don’t have to eat for up to a week. Or drink. Also, what the hell, you’re
fine at your job.”
 
Arashi flutters an airy hand, hopefully belying the storm of emotions that’s
been threatening to take him over for the last few weeks. “It’s fine. I mean,
hopefully, someone will either show up that’s better than me at this, or
they’ll just kill me in my sleep, but it’s fine.”
 
Izumi stares at him for a moment, pauses, and gives up after a brisk glance
around, yanking Arashi to an abrupt stop, then down into a hard kiss. “Fuck
your whole country, actually,” he flatly says. “If they don’t shape up and
treat you right, I’m making the king sign that law into reality and not letting
you leave my side.”
 
Much to Arashi’s surprise, his lower lip quivers at that, tears stinging his
eyes. He wipes them quickly, embarrassed, and strides briskly towards the
stables. “So dashing,” he murmurs, blinking rapidly. “Stop, it, you’ll make me
want to agree. And if I do, you’d better make me one out of diamonds.”
 
Following after him, Izumi tries not to be smug and preen visibly, but so help
him, he does enjoy a chance to take Arashi off-guard once in awhile.
“Obviously, you idiot. You say that as if I haven’t thought it out already.
Diamond and amethyst, so it’d match your eyes.”
 
“Dammit, you’re going to make me trip--if you don’t stop being so sweet, I’m
going to throw you in the trough!” Arashi’s voice is nearly a shriek, and he
grabs his horse immediately, burying his face in her mane. “You’ll protect me,
won’t you? He’s being a terrible brute, trying to seduce me away from my
dominance...”
 
Izumi laughs, and lightly smacks his own mare on the nose when she immediately
swings her head over her stall door to try and take a hunk out of him. “If I
was trying to seduce you, you’d be my wife by now,” he snidely teases. “This is
just what I’m like when I think you’re being treated like shit.”
 
“But you’re making me think about what it would be like,” Arashi whines,
saddling Neigh in record time, then mounting quickly. “I just want to fight
things and protect people, and to get told I’m pretty, you know? I was too good
at it, and now I’ve got a job I didn’t ask for, but no one else can do it
better.”
 
“At the risk of sounding like a complete ass, you’re not a noble. You’re not
obligated to stay here.”
 
Izumi bridles his horse again before hauling himself into the saddle, ignoring
the irritated way she tosses her head and tries to lunge forward and take a
bite out of Neigh’s tail. “Keep telling me about how you hate this, and I am
going to insist you come to the capital with me. I’ve got other reasons, but
I’m not saying them until we’re on the road proper. Everyone here is fucking
nosy.”
 
“Of course, darling. Where do you think I learned it?” Arashi asks archly,
throwing the stable door open and leading the way down the main road. “Think
your demon can catch me?”
 
“I’ve been waiting to test her against a proper lady for awhile.” Izumi kicks
her forward, giving Arashi a quick bat of his lashes before his horse is gone,
bolting ahead. “Catch up when you can, Vice-Captain.”
 
A challenge spurs Arashi forward like nothing else could, and he and Neigh leap
forward, streaking down the road as fast as anyone has ever seen a courier
move. He moves with the horse as if they’re one being, tucked down low over her
neck, rocking with her into every smooth motion of her fastest gallop. “To the
treeline!” he shouts, demarcating the race, but he never once looks over at
Izumi, never focuses on anything besides the wind, the road, and the horse
between his thighs.
 
The head start is fortunate, though Izumi doesn’t exactly keep track of where
Arashi is. He leaves that to his horse, who obviously watches Neigh out of the
corner of her eye, and with every stride that Neigh gains on them until pulling
even, she stays scarcely a centimeter ahead, then only a head bob ahead, with
her hooves scarcely making a sound across the beaten earth.
 
Izumi’s never particularly liked racers. A Shadowland horse isn’t exactly the
same in build as the skinny ones from the Capital, being much taller and
broader, and she somehow moves even faster, with a long stride that makes even
Izumi find it hard to catch his breath. The treeline comes up and then is
passed, and, well—who wins is something either them can guess, especially when
his mare refuses to let up. “Holy shit,” he pants out, looking decidedly
windswept when he finally convinces the creature to slow down, albeit with an
angry toss of her head and wild eyes. “Vale’s never come close to keeping
up—you know what, I think I’m sweating more than she is, fuck.”
 
Arashi grabs a handkerchief from his pocket, mopping his face and neck. “If you
breed her to any of Vale’s kin,” he says, breath fast, eyes alight, “I’ll
literally, literally pay you the foal’s weight in gold. Ahhhh, I want to do
that again, that’s the most fun I’ve had in months.”
 
“Let me catch my breath, you fucking lunatic,” Izumi groans, his mare spinning
restlessly in place, obviously as eager as Arashi. “I’ll think about breeding
her once she’s got a proper name she answers to. Ritsu just calls her ‘Bitch’,
which even I think is classless. Ugh, I hate riding a mare, it’s just so…” 
 
“You’ll like it when the war starts again.” Arashi’s face settles into
something more grim, that shadow passing over his features once more. “Did I
tell you? The one spy I managed to get completely over the sharps says we’re
going to see the biggest influx of Inglings possibly ever. They’re on the way.”
 
“Mm. Yeah, Leo’s got some plans about that, by the way.” Izumi rakes his bangs
back from his face, exhaling a hot breath. His mare fidgets in place, but
starts to calm, no matter her grumbling noises. “He’s pretty intent on sending
some wizards up here to blow all of that up once and for all, or something like
it. I mean, sounds good to me, but I think we both know which wizards he’d be
sending.”
 
Arashi’s jaw sets. “That’s...concerning,” he finally manages. “Though they’ve
worked well with me in the past. And there really isn’t anyone else I’d trust.”
 
“Which brings me to the question I’ve wanted to ask for awhile now, and just
remembered, because it’s about to be a serious issue.” Izumi leans back in his
saddle as he nudges his horse forward, coaxing her to walk, not run. “If you’re
staying here and getting married—hypothetically, as far as I’m concerned—what’s
your plan with Mika?”
 
That draws a groan from Arashi, and he runs a hand back through sweat-damp
hair. “I...I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I’ve never really had a plan--you
know, it’s not like we ever thought it would be possible, you know? Then when
the rules changed...” He shrugs helplessly. “He’s still a wizard. And I
honestly think, when it comes down to it...that I’ll never be as important to
him as his Master is.”
 
“He’s just clingy. And codependent. They’re both like that with one another,
probably because they’re both so odd.” Izumi exhales a slow breath. “It’s not
like you’re any less important, though. At least, that’s what I think, as
someone looking in. But uh—because of that, I can’t imagine him taking this
marriage crap well. He’s a really jealous person.”
 
Arashi snorts. “He shares you and his Master just fine. And he knows I don’t
want a woman in my life, it’s not like he’s unreasonable enough to be angry at
me for that.”
 
“Arashi. Listen to yourself and think about Mika for five seconds. He gets
cranky when I take up more than my allotted space in the bed. He might not be
angry about it, but…you know how he gets, better than me.” Izumi shakes his
head. “Shu’s a whole other thing, anyway. It’s not like they’re fucking.”
 
“Not for Mika’s lack of trying.” It’s hardly a secret, as far as Arashi’s
concerned. “What do you think I should do? You and His Majesty seem to make it
work.”
 
Izumi glances skyward briefly, up into the cover of the trees. “We talked about
how you feel about your dominance before,” he finally says. “Do you still feel
the same way? Or are you like those famous noblemen that adore their lands and
the people in them now?”
 
Arashi opens his mouth, then closes it again, determined to give an actual
answer instead of lip service. “I hate the office,” he admits. “But I’ve lived
there, under a bad lord. And I know how close the Inglings are to wiping us
out. And...if I stepped down, and someone unfriendly to the military took over,
or just someone who couldn’t authorize absolutely anything at any time exactly
the way I want it...”
 
He shakes his head, annoyed with himself. “So I guess I want to be in charge,
but not have any of the burdens. Ugh, I’m unreasonable, I know. You can spank
me later.”
 
“You’re unreasonable. But what’s more unreasonable is the fact that your people
aren’t giving an inch back to you, no matter how much you’ve done for them.”
Izumi glances over to him, eyebrows raised. “If you want to be in charge, and
you’ve got to have those burdens, then start imposing your own damned rules.
The hell do you have to marry someone for? Why can’t you have Mika as your
lover? If they bitch and moan, then fuck it. Step down. But chances are, if you
keep spending as much time as you do protecting them and bringing money and
jobs in to them, they’ll get over it with only some fuss. I know it’s a matter
of ‘wanting to establish a line’, but who the fuck cares, really. You’re not a
real noble, and countries don’t have to be run by them. Change the rules so you
can name an heir and they can get over it.”
 
“I--”
 
Arashi stares at Izumi, and looks at him, really looks.
 
This is a man who’d made a name out of a backwards dairy farm of a dominance,
who’d come to the Capital with nothing in his pockets and a hick accent, drawn
the ire of every wealthy nobleman, and clawed his determined way to the right
hand of the King. This is a man who’s made his own rules every step of the way,
and suffered for it, suffered so badly it must have been like hell...and Arashi
knows without asking that if it were up to him, Izumi would do it all over
again the exact same way.
 
And hasn’t he done the same?
 
Hasn’t he rewritten the rules in the West? Isn’t he the son of a washerwoman
and a carpenter, and hasn’t he wrestled with angels and demons? Isn’t he
absolutely unafraid of the wizened old bastards quoting regulations at him?
 
He’s never been afraid of them before. So what’s holding him back now?
 
“Oh, gods,” he whispers, realizing the truth. “I’m afraid he’ll say no.”
 
Izumi blinks a couple of times, then snorts out a startled laugh with a tilt of
his head. “You are, aren’t you? Good grief, Arashi. The more I think about
it—you’ve gone out of your damned way to avoid asking him on how many occasions
now? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but take a page out of my book. Keep
asking until they get sick of it and just agree.”
 
Arashi laughs, and is almost surprised to hear how wet it sounds. He buries his
face in his handkerchief, and nods. “This is really embarrassing, you know. I
like to be very cool and in control of myself. Ugh, I’m so bad at this stuff,
how the hell did I ever get you two to fall for me?”
 
“I don’t know what you did to woo Mika, but I’ve got a thing for tall, blonde
guys in military coats that can kick my ass,” Izumi only half-jokes, passing
over his handkerchief as well when he notices how soggy Arashi’s is getting.
“You’re fine, I’m not gonna tell anyone that you’re crying over this. For what
it’s worth, I can’t imagine he’d say no. He’s…yeah. Arashi, he’s so in love
with you.”
 
Arashi snatches Izumi’s handkerchief, stuffing his own back in his bag. “Don’t
look at my makeup,” he mutters, wiping gently at his eyes. “You don’t know. He
told me he thinks he just gets in the way of us.”
 
“What?” Izumi incredulously laughs, rolling his eyes as he sits back. “Then
he’s an idiot. You’re both idiots. I’m pretty sure I get in the way of you
two.”
 
“I never feel like I get in the way of you two...am I just really egocentric,
maybe?” Arashi laughs at himself, shaking his head. “But I do feel like I’m
intruding on you and His Majesty. Like I’m drawing your focus away from him.”
 
“That’s not your fault, don’t worry about it.”
 
It’s short and dismissive, and Izumi immediately flips the subject around
again. “Mika and I aren’t as close as you two are, there’s no contest. I knew
that getting involved. And you and I…mm. Well, like you’ve said before—if we
met each other first, it might be different. But I’m the one always proposing
to you, not the other way around, and you’re dying to propose to him and you
suck at it. His opinions continue to be a mystery until then.”
 
“I’d take you up on it,” Arashi says dryly, “if I didn’t think you’d flounder
around for a bit and run right back to His Majesty. Not blaming you, but it’s
not like you could leave him.”
 
“Hey, asshole, remember when we were talking about your relationship issues?
That was better.”
 
“I’m going to change the subject again,” Arashi counters. “What couldn’t you
tell me about the Shadowlands?”
 
Izumi hesitates visibly, and his horse snorts, tossing her head anxiously. “I
probably shouldn’t say anything still, because I still don’t know the full
extent of it,” he admits. “But I’ve had both Kanata and Ritsu relaying
information to me lately, and none of it sounds…pleasant. There’s a lot of
bleed over of creatures, demons, whatever you want to call them, from the
Shadowlands lately. They’ve come as far as High Harbor, apparently.”
 
Arashi sucks in a breath through his teeth. “That sounds...very much worse than
usual...”
 
His mind starts racing, trying to think of where to send his men, how much he
needs to requisition, how to properly configure his troops. “What kind of
creatures? Are we talking snogs and berserkers, or something....else?
Intelligent?”
 
“Intelligent. Nothing intelligent on the level like say, Rei and Ritsu, but I
know it’s more than cats with eight legs or something weird like that. It’s why
Kanata’s gone and fluttered off into the sea again—Morisawa’s been whining
about it for a solid few months now, ugh—because he’s strong enough to keep
that mess at bay. Ritsu’s pissed because his brother apparently keeps
threatening to send him home to deal with it—and the kicker,” Izumi quickly
adds with a pause for breath, “is that it all started because the slave trades
opened up in full force at the Hinterlands and the Shadowlands border. If
there’s twenty problems, they’re all connected at the end of the day, I guess.”
 
Arashi’s lips purse. “My bride-to-be was from the Hinterlands. Do you
think...that had something to do with her disappearance? I got the sense that
things were kind of falling apart up there, but...”
 
He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “We get attacked so often here, and
you never really hear about anywhere else getting the brunt of it...but I
remember hearing in history that there’s that group up in the Hinterlands that
has some special land grant from the King? Something about protecting us from
the Shadowlands?”
 
“It’s too much a coincidence for her disappearance to not be related. The
Hinterlands…they’re a mess. The North has always tried to distance itself from
them, even though they’ve got a solid monopoly on weapon production. You’ve
gotta be pretty bad, to make a bunch of Northerners not want a better slab of
metal, honestly.”
 
Izumi sighs, lifting a hand to absently rub at the bridge of his nose, trying
to stave off a headache. “The ‘nobles’ there are pretty much secluded from the
rest of the country and yes, they do have a special protection from the king. I
don’t know if they’re trying to utilize that or what to get around labor
violations with the slave trade. I’ve sent spies that way, but that was recent
and now I’m here, so I won’t hear back for a bit. Last I heard from Ritsu, Rei
went there himself to check on things, and I think Natsume as well, but who the
hell knows what’ll come of that weirdo.”
 
“You don’t think...anything has happened with them?” Arashi’s voice is worried,
but also curious, not verging into panicked yet by sheer force of will. “Has
anyone heard back from Rei and Natsume? If they’ve disappeared, and my bride
has disappeared, what if they’re connected, and something worse than we thought
is happening? It could happen, worse and weirder things have happened up
there.”
 
“I don’t know about Natsume, but Rei’s the Emperor of the Academy. I doubt
anything’s capable of making him disappear—and I think we would’ve heard a lot
more from Shu about it. If your bonded dies, you don’t just…not notice it.”
Izumi flutters a hand dismissively. “If something exceptionally weird is going
on, Ritsu will contact me. He’s sort of obligated to, if he wants any news
about his pet that’s apparently down in the South. I said I’d check on the
asshole for him while I was there.”
 
“Mm, that’s a comfort, I suppose,” Arashi allows. “At least since we have eyes
on Shu and Mao, we’d know if anything happened to those brothers. I suppose
those bonds are good for something...sometimes, anyway. They still seem too
complicated for me. But yeah, what shall we do about this whole...creature
thing? I don’t mind sending some reinforcements, but if the Inglings roll over
the West, I need to have every single possible troop ready to fight.”
 
“Let’s just wait until we actually know what we’re facing—and when we have our
wizards back, that’ll be much easier,” Izumi says wearily. “I can’t believe I’m
saying this, but Leo has the right idea about just sending a few to cause a
massive magical disruption of some sort. It’s certainly cheaper than feeding
hundreds of men.” He pauses, then adds abruptly, “Does it bother you? That he’s
not bonded to you? Like, do you constantly think he’s going to find someone
that he is bonded to and that’s why you haven’t asked him?”
 
Arashi shrugs one shoulder, looking down at the road. “I’d be stupid not to be
worried at all, you know? I’ve seen those bonds ruin lives and relationships--
and he’s a wizard, so it’s not like he can help it, if he does find someone
like that. Isn’t tying him down to someone like me just cruel?”
 
“‘Someone like you’—said as if you aren’t ideal, you ass.” Izumi scowls,
twisting up his reins in his hands. “It’s not like bonds are kind to wizards,
either. Something like that…if they don’t want it, it can tear them apart. All
the better to marry him and lock him up in your room and never let him out, if
you ask me. At least he’s usually in favor of that idea.”
 
“Unless it requires him being away from Shu for more than four minutes,” Arashi
says sourly. “Or have you forgotten our Northern Excursion?”
 
“My mother didn’t help that situation,” Izumi points out with a sigh. “I’m sure
as long as he could freely visit Shu, that’d be fine. I mean, I get pissed when
I don’t get to see you for a long time, you know? Same thing.”
 
Arashi bites back the comment that it’s not really the same thing, has never
felt like the same thing, that even when touching had been outlawed, he’d
walked in on them clothed head-to-toe in the hottest months, just so they could
hold each other. “I guess...well, the worst he can say is ‘no,’ right? So I
don’t really have anything to worry about.”
 
“If he says ‘no’, it’s because he’s being that…way he is, not because he
doesn’t want to,” Izumi firmly insists. “Arashi, he used to threaten to murder
not only me, but everyone in my family because he thought I was a ‘bad
influence’ on you. He was willing to die by the Academy’s hand to be with you.
I don’t think you need to worry about him not being in love with you.”
 
“Is it really stupid not to want to be someone’s second choice?” Arashi asks
softly. “I don’t know what the point of that ‘marriage’ would be, anyway, it’s
not like we have children to give legitimacy to, and neither of us are
precisely monogamous...”
 
“How on earth could you be his second choice?” Izumi incredulously shoots back.
“The point of it, by the way, is to be with the person you love. Forget kids,
screw monogamy, it’s nice to have some validation that your feelings are
legitimate. Ugh, I hate you, stop making me say shit like this, you should know
this by now. I can’t believe fluttery, prissy Shu is making you insecure.”
 
“Why shouldn’t he?” Arashi snaps. “I used to walk in on them whispering sweet
nothings to each other all the damn time, if it weren’t for Shu’s bond they’d
be together right now, I’m sure.”
 
“What kind of ‘sweet nothings’? Shu used to jot down the shit I said about Leo,
so how do you know they weren’t just practicing their love poetry? They’re
weird. You know they’re weird.”
 
“Honestly, Izumi,” Arashi says, exasperated. “Who do you think he was writing
poetry for, before he met Rei?”
 
“I don’t know, his scholarly interests? His dolls?”
 
“I mean, yes, but...also about Mika. A lot of it. And Mika used to talk about,
gods, nothing else. We’d go for walks, remember how I told you about that? And
all he’d talk about is Master is so smart, Master is so kind, Master is so
attractive, and I still fell for him, because I’m an idiot.” Arashi huffs,
folding his arms. “I don’t know, I’m probably just trying to talk myself out of
it again.”
 
“Isn’t Mika basically one of his dolls, though?” Izumi deadpans. “You’re
definitely just trying to talk yourself out of it. Not to point out the obvious
again, but I have to, because you’re being stupid—Mika’s got a pretty low
tolerance for people he doesn’t want to be around. Don’t you think, just maybe,
if he didn’t want to be with you, he’d leave?”
 
Arashi shrugs. “Who knows why he does things? He’s a kind of mysterious guy,
you know...even to me, who I guess should know him pretty well. Like finding
out he’s way older than me after a decade of knowing him, what the hell?”
 
“Okay, that was weird, I’ll give you that. But to be fair, he looks like a
teenager and never corrects anyone. You need to stop second-guessing this,
though, it’s pissing me off. Keep it up and you’re not going to enjoy this trip
at all.” Izumi leans closer in his saddle. “Arashi. We’re going to the
Sandlands, where he’s been dressed up as a fancy whore for weeks. He’s going to
be dressed like that when we show up.”
 
The thought of Mika dressed like that crashes into Arashi like a freight train,
and he has to fumble after his breath for a moment. “I don’t know, that’s going
to be weird,” he says, frowning. “I’ve seen a lot of the whores down there,
they don’t do much for me...”
 
“I’ve been told he’s dressed like an expensive one, though. Apparently, he’s
been on a prince’s hip this whole time, so he probably looks very…” Izumi
trails off, eyes glazing a bit. “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him with his
hair combed.”
 
Arashi’s face drops in a scowl. “You know, I’d like it a lot more if the person
he had to whore himself out to was someone unimportant. Someone I could murder.
Who cares what his hair looks like, I’ve been trying to forget how miserable he
probably is for weeks.”
 
“I care about that and what he looks like. Come on, lighten up for five seconds
and think with your dick, I know it works.”
 
“No, it’s mad.”
 
“About what? The prince is Rei’s friend, he hasn’t put his hands on Mika, he’s
fine. Think about how pretty he probably is. I’m assuming he can look pretty
underneath all his weird.”
 
“Say that he isn’t usually pretty again, I’ll kill you,” Arashi growls. “And
you won’t die, you’ll just suffer, and I’ll kill you again.”
 
“He’s usually pretty! I just mean, you know, cleaned up, refined—heh, see, this
is how you know you’ve got to marry him, you’ll kill anyone else who tries.”
 
Arashi glares, but doesn’t try to argue again, settling back in the saddle. “If
he says no,” he says at last, “you have to marry me, and I’ll join the
kingsguard for real. I mean it.”
 
“All right.” Izumi says it without hesitation, and glances over at Arashi for a
moment before looking forward again with a soft snort. “At least we’ll be a
scandal together, and I’ve already got a ring in mind. The capital…is rough
right now, about that sort of thing.”
 
“And what will His Majesty say about it?” Arashi asks, with the little flutter
of nervousness he always feels whenever he asks about the King, and how exactly
he fits into all of this.
 
“I don’t know.” The answer has a quiet edge of frustration to it, but Izumi
stamps that down as hard as he can. “I’ve told him a million times that I’m
serious about marrying you. Never really bats an eye. I don’t know if that’s
because he’s too obsessed with the fact Mika apparently hates him, or if he
doesn’t give a damn, legitimately, or if he’s just not…right, these days.”
 
“Or if he doesn’t believe you,” Arashi suggests. “He’s always commented a lot
more on how he thinks I really feel than on the things I actually say.
It’s...pretty strange, but it’s definitely like he can see straight to my
soul.”
 
“He’s always been like that,” Izumi mutters dismissively. “Now he’s just
more…blunt about it. He should believe me, it’s not like he’s going to marry
me. I’m not going to be just his consort the rest of my life unless that ever
becomes an official term; right now, it’s the nice word people call me in the
capital.”
 
“Oh, and you’ve always cared what people in the Capital call you?”
 
“No, but—you know what, fine, never mind, go back to your problems instead,
that’s much more important.”
 
“Stop trying to deflect onto me every time you don’t like the topic, asshole.
My problems aren’t fun for me to talk about!”
 
“Follow along, dumbass, I’m criticizing you for making fun of me when I’m
trying to complain.” Annoyingly enough, his lower lip wobbles, and Izumi huffs
as he stares straight ahead. “Being in the capital isn’t the same as it used to
be, you know.”
 
Arashi huffs. “Now I’m pissed, because I just want to come over there and hug
you, but your demon bitch is going to eat my leg.”
 
“Kick her in the nose, that’s what I do all the time,” Izumi says with a wet
laugh, and he lifts a hand to irritably scrub at his eyes. “Ugh, don’t look,
now I’m going to be the blotchy one. It fucking sucks being alone in the
capital. Kasa’s too dependent to be helpful, Ritsu doesn’t get humans and
thinks I should just play the half-blood card all the time, and Leo…Leo’s not…”
He flutters the same hand, searching for words. “The same. Or maybe I’m not
good enough anymore. I can’t figure out which, maybe it’s both—how couldn’t it
be, after everything.”
 
Arashi looks down at his hands, holding the reins gently, and finds them
clenched. “I want to talk about something,” he says carefully, not meeting
Izumi’s eyes. “I don’t think anyone else is, and I think it’s important, but I
don’t want you to get...that way you get.”
 
“No promises, I’m sort of this way, so I’m told,” Izumi mutters, refusing to
look at Arashi in turn. “But go ahead.”
 
“Do you know you’re different?” Arashi asks finally, rubbing the pad of his
thumb against the thick leather of the reins. “Since your bond was broken? Can
you feel it all the time, or is it...something else that changed at the same
time? You can talk about how Leo isn’t the same all you want, but you’re not
either.”
 
Never mind, I don’t want to talk about this is what immediately comes to
Izumi’s mind, but he bites that down, trying to think critically instead. It’s
difficult when even mentioning that bond makes him ache down to his bones, and
he shifts restlessly, twisting his reins slowly around in his hands. “I have
dreams about it every single night,” he finally says. “I don’t know how someone
couldn’t be different, with that hanging over them.”
 
“I have absolutely no idea what it’s like,” Arashi says softly. “But...how is
it...how was it different, with him, than it is with me, or with Mika, or with
Leo? Is it--I always imagined it would be like finally taking a full breath
after having to breathe through a straw forever, you know? And if it were taken
away....but I don’t know what I’m talking about, as I said.”
 
“That’s just the thing—I didn’t even…I couldn’t even feel it, before.”
 
Izumi lifts a hand, wiping at his eyes again in frustration. “The most I ever
felt…well, it was more like I heard it, and even then, it was just—a call, once
in awhile, not much else. The sex wasn’t even…I mean, it was good at the time,
because it was after—you know—but it didn’t feel like anything extra, and
touching him didn’t feel any different than touching anyone else, I
didn’t…neither of us even knew.” He shakes his head. “It’s pretty bullshit that
now, when I don’t even have it anymore, that I feel it all the time, and that
I…I can’t make it stop.”
 
“You never seem happy anymore,” Arashi says, finally voicing what he’s been
wanting to say for months, honestly. “You never tease anyone, or laugh. I keep
expecting you to snap back and come back into life with the rest of us...but
you haven’t, you know? And it’s been a few years, and...I’m starting to wonder
if you’re ever going to be the man I fell for. I love this you, too, just so
you know, but...” His shoulders lift, helpless. “I worry about you.”
 
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just grew up?” Izumi wetly snaps, too
frustrated now to bite his tongue. “We weren’t going to be kids forever. I
can’t be, not in my position, not when Leo needs me to be his sword. If I
didn’t shape up, I’d never command an ounce of respect in the capital, Arashi.
It’s still bad enough that he has to send me away when he’s going to have full
meetings with his advisors; they won’t even speak to him if I’m in the damned
city.”
 
Arashi’s jaw tenses, and he stares straight down the road, hands clenched on
the reins. “Is this because you stopped fucking women?” he demands. “That was
the same time as all this, maybe your...other side, I don’t know, maybe it’s
affecting you and you don’t even know it.”
 
“Fuck if I know.” Izumi’s fingers tremble for a moment. “I hate looking up shit
about it. I wish I could go back to being…mostly human, no one knowing about
this, and just an idiot womanizer, you know? But now everyone needs this part
of me, or they think it’s disgusting, nothing in-between. Ritsu kept trying to
tell me things, still does, even after I told him to just shut up about it, I…”
A last, hiccuping breath, and he bursts full-on into tears. “I-it’s so fucking
lonelyin the Capital when you’re not there, y-you ass!” he sobs, fumbling for a
second handkerchief, and failing. “F-fuck you, honestly, fuck you, Mika might
be fucking clingy with his master but h-he’s not waking up in the middle of the
night to cling to a ghost that’s not really there!”
 
“Fuck that demon,” Arashi mutters suddenly, and clucks a command to Neigh, then
slides down to the ground, grabbing Izumi by the shirt and yanking him to the
side for a hard kiss. It tastes like salt and a little like blood, but Arashi
holds on, dragging the horses to a stop, absently whacking Izumi’s horse in the
nose when she tries to bite him. “You’re not the only one, all right?” he says,
finally releasing Izumi’s shirt, resting his forehead against Izumi’s. “It’s
not a bond, but fuck, I wake up that way looking for you, for Mika, for both of
you. I do’t know anything about bonds, but fuck, darling, if it can be filled
up with love, I’ll get rid of that shit so fast your head will spin.”
 
Izumi nods helplessly, unwilling to argue about it anymore when Arashi is very
solid and warm and real and kissing him hard enough to make that feel like it’s
enough, in that moment. He flops forward and down, clinging to Arashi’s neck.
“It hurts,” he whispers, aware of how pathetic that sounds, but unable to
temper it. “And…i-if I bring it up to Leo…well, I don’t, because it’s even
worse for him,” he manages with a hoarse laugh. “He fucking lies to me. S-
straight up lies to me about it, I know his dreams are worse, or maybe he’s
happier there, I c-can’t even tell anymore. But I hate it, I hate all of this,
I’m sorry I’m such a pain, I hate feeling like this and I hate being such a
fuck up.”
 
“Is anyone saying that?” Arashi demands. He drags Izumi fully off his horse,
holding him so tightly that he does hear a rib creak, and ignores it. “I’m only
upset because I fucking hate seeing you in pain, you know! So just...you at
least don’t have to be there alone. That’s a promise. It’s all I can give you,
but it’s honest, all right?”
 
“Only half the capital hates me, you know,” Izumi miserably says, abandoning
his horse’s reins and letting himself be dragged. He dangles from Arashi’s
neck, huffing out a soggy breath. “That’s so much more than enough, you ass. T-
thank you. Gods, I’m just…I’m so sick of it. I-if I don’t have to see him, or
hear his name, I can…I can forget my bond, when I’m awake. But it’s the rest of
it—‘half-breeds are taking over everything’, ‘the North’s trying to control the
whole world’, ‘if he’s not human, least he could do is have the king’s
babies’—shit like that, day in and day out, try running a fucking guard when
getting critiqued on your swordplay’s the least of your concerns.”
 
“It’ll be worse when I’m there,” Arashi points out, “because they’ll talk about
both of us. But hey, we’ll have more fun, because we can hate them together and
point out their bad fashion. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
 
Izumi nods, sniffling loudly and wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. “I
don’t care if they talk about me,” he softly clarifies, lifting his head to
stare up at Arashi, his eyes still wet. “Or who my father was, or where I’m
from, or what I do in bed. I just want…that. Someone to back me up. Leo does.
Gods, he does, as much as he can, but it’s all fucking politics, all the time,
and I…can’t ask much more of him, when I’m the one insisting. He’s the king, he
can’t just grab me in public and kiss me to make a point of not giving a shit,
you know? It’s in poor taste. It could start another fucking war.”
 
“But I could,” Arashi says softly. “If I gave up my dominance. We could be so
scandalous, darling--and honestly, we’d probably do good things for Leo’s
reputation, if we draw the attention away from him.”
 
“…I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t thought about that,” Izumi admits. “Not…not
that I want to use you for that. Just—you know. I don’t need to explain it.
It’d be nice, to be with someone who’d kiss me in public and keep at it even
after people complained.” He snorts, wiping at his eyes. “I hate being so…well-
behaved. Gods, I don’t want to make you do this, but it sounds so nice…”
 
“It does, doesn’t it?” Arashi sighs. “I wish you weren’t so attractive to me.
Mentally, physically...societally...politically...geographically....ugh, you’re
driving me crazy, why couldn’t we have had a soul bond? Then I could tell
everyone else to go fuck themselves and be happy about it.”
 
“Maybe there’s a loophole somewhere, so you can sign your wealth over to the
North or the capital or something before you’d lose all of it by pissing off
everyone here,” Izumi says with a ragged laugh. “But…likewise. Gods, maybe we
should fake it. I’m a fucking snake. Maybe snakes have bonds, what do I know?”
     
 
Arashi finally releases Izumi, squeezing his hand one last time before swinging
back up on Neigh. “Imagine if we did have kids,” he says suddenly. “If they
found a magic that could let us. What do you think they’d be like? I don’t want
to lay eggs, though.”
 
“I’ll lay the eggs, if that’s what it takes,” Izumi grumbles, hauling himself
back into the saddle, and for once, his stupid horse doesn’t whip around to
bite him in the leg. “They’d be incredibly beautiful, first of all.”          
                                 
 
“Oh, without a doubt. I wonder how much of me and how much of you they’d get?
Like, would that be the most unkillable kid in the world, or what?”
 
Arashi pauses, then thinks. “Wait. If you lay eggs, are we going to have like a
hundred?”
 
“My mom only had one of me, so probably not? I don’t think ice drakes have, uh,
huge…clutches…? Or whatever it’s called. That’s why they fuck everything.”
Izumi sniffs again, rubbing at his nose. “Watch, it would come out perfectly
normal.”
 
Arashi snorts. “As long as it’s beautiful, that’s fine. Ugh...”
 
He rubs his hands through his hair. “Why am I like this, huh? How come everyone
in the world can make love to a woman except me? What the hell is wrong with
me--maybe I really am a woman in a man’s body, you know? Like I thought when I
was a kid.”
 
“It’s not just you,” Izumi mildly says. “Though it’d be fine if you were like
that, I’ll call you my lady if you want. But, heh. Guess who else can’t handle
women in the slightest?”
 
“Who?” Arashi asks, eyes widening. “I’ve...I know plenty of men who enjoy the
company of other men, but I don’t know any other men who can’t touch a woman at
all.”
 
“I’m honestly so glad you didn’t know so I can tell you: it’s our very own
Emperor.”
 
Arashi’s mouth falls open. “Wait--what? But--but he’s a sex wizard, who the
hell designed him?”
 
“Some god thought it would be hilarious, my guess.” Izumi’s lips twitch, almost
cracking a smile. “But yeah, Ritsu’s told me all about it, and I have to
agree—it’s pretty fucking funny.”
 
“I know for a fact that Ritsu can touch women just fine. Seriously, though? The
Emperor?”
 
Something eases in Arashi’s chest, something he hadn’t known was tense. “I
never knew there were other men like me.”
 
“He’s just the most obvious example I can think of. There were a couple of low-
ranked nobles that used to be around the capital, back in the day…so of course
they tumbled me because I was so horny and desperate, and complained about
women the whole time. You’re not the only one, trust me.”
 
Arashi lets out a breath, nodding slowly. “All right. All right. That’s...good.
I was starting to think there was a real issue with me, both physically and, I
don’t know, from the gods or whoever is in charge of such a thing. But, good,
then I’m perfect, just as I thought.”
 
“Uh, yeah. You’re perfect, asshole. Some men just don’t want to fuck women.
Hell, some women don’t want to fuck men.” Izumi leans to the side, eyebrows
raised. “Honestly. And you’re not ever allowed to spread this around, or I’ll
kill you. I’ve never had a real interest in women.”
 
Arashi blinks. “Does interest mean something else in the North? Because I’ve
actually seen you go from limp noodle to proud monument at the sight of a
woman’s ankle.”
 
“It’s not a conscious thing,” Izumi says grumpily. “Right, remember how I told
you how in the North, it’s not whether you’re a man or a woman, but what status
you have? Well, the only kids of worthy status that ever got dragged up there
were girls. I wasn’t interested, but my body told me I didn’t have a damned
choice. Why do you think I always went for flat-chested women back when I was
fucking them?”
 
“Because tits are confusing bags of fat?”
 
“I mean, yeah, but also, because it’s a lot easier to think about men while I’m
doing it.”
 
“Fair enough,” Arashi allows. “I mean, you know I adore them as people, but all
the parts I really like about people in a physical way...they’re missing it,
you know?”
 
“Of course I know. If I didn’t have a goddamn biological imperative to fuck
everything that moves, I would literally never even consider women. I want you
to know that. And now I want you to forget that. I still have a reputation, and
unless you’re really coming to the capital with me to properly ruin it, you
have to forget that.”
 
Arashi stares into the distance, as the hooves of two swift horses beat against
the road. “Let’s see if he says yes,” he says softly. “I feel like...if I can,
I’d like to be able to give him...just, everything. He’s never had a home. He’s
never had someone that was truly his. Ahhh, why couldn’t I split meeting you
and him into this and my next life?”
 
“Tell me about it.” Izumi briefly shuts his eyes, and is reminded swiftly of
how sore and tired they feel now after crying. “Yeah. Make sure you take care
of him first or I’ll be pissed.”
 
“Mm, yes, yes.” And honestly, only the idea of seeing Mika soon could make
Arashi ride any faster.
***** Chapter 33 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
The Shadowlands, it turns out, are much further from the North than expected.
 
Izumi has seen dozens, maybe hundreds of maps drawn out in an attempt to gauge
the distance. All of them are wrong. What appears to be about three days is
close to a solid two weeks, and by the end of it, Vale is fluctuating between
lame and sound, Izumi is cold (yes, even he is cold), exhausted, and
desperately wanting a real bath (the Hinterlands offered poor lodging at best),
and the border to the Shadowlands still looms half an hour away.
 
But he’d been told to only come that close, or else, comes the whisper in his
memory, especially if you’re alone.
 
This close to the border, the forests are dense, with tall, stiff evergreens
making it difficult to navigate. It’s not like any forest he’s seen, with a
notable lack of pathways carved through it, and it’s strangely silent between
the straight, closely-packed trees. The sun barely filters through it, and
Izumi uneasily shifts in the saddle, even the creak of leather suddenly too
loud in his ears.
 
All of this, for a fucking horse and maybe a jug of wine.
 
That lack of focus nearly gets him killed in the next second. The forest
abruptly ends, what looks to be a downward slope actually an abrupt, craggy
drop off into something dark and deep, and it’s only Vale’s sharp backpedaling
that keeps them from falling off what looks to be the edge of the damned world.
Rocks and dirt tumble down the side as Vale snorts and rears as he stumbles
back, and Izumi’s chest heaves as he finds himself clinging to his horse’s mane
like a child for the first time in years. “Fuck you,” he suddenly says. “Fuck
you, Ritsu, you little shit, fuck every part of this.”
 
As if summoned by his cursing, a wisp of cloud floats closer, then twists
around Izumi’s leg. It looks solid enough, but passes through his skin without
a touch, curling in seemingly random eddies, but swirling around him just the
same. Another wisp joins it, and another, and another, until he’s entirely
surrounded, horse and all.
 
“You’re soooo late, Izumi,” a familiar voice whispers, though no part of Ritsu
is visible, and the clouds just twist in the air, despite the silent wind. “I
was getting boooored.”
 
Izumi has seen and dealt with quite a bit of magic in his short life, but this
is still disturbing, on the level of Mika’s little ghost incarnations (though
obviously, not as deadly or dread-inducing). Vale snorts, shifting anxiously,
throwing his head back as he becomes more and more unsettled, and Izumi curses
again underneath his breath. “Fuck you, it takes forever to get here and I’m
tired of being here already!” he snaps, glancing about frantically, as if
that’ll help him find Ritsu faster. “Show me some proper hospitality or I’m
going and you can keep your stupid horse!”
 
That ethereal voice laughs. “Perhaps I should drop my shadow friends...they’re
there to shield you from powerful demons while I guide you into the country,
but if you don’t want a guide...and if you want to be seen...”
 
“Isn’t this you and your brother’s country?” Izumi growls, warily nudging Vale
forward all the same. Escort his ass—a bunch of ‘shadow friends’ isn’t an
escort, Ritsu arriving naked and ready to chew on him is an escort. “Shouldn’t
they listen to you and not eat your guests?”
 
“My dogs are trained not to eat live prey, too,” Ritsu murmurs, amused. “But I
wouldn’t let them babysit a blind piglet. Just across the bridge, I’ll be there
to meet you.”
 
At his words, a bridge, seemingly also made of clouds, appears between the
cliffs, swirling into view, looking ethereal as air itself.
 
“Did you just call me a piglet? I’ll slit your throat.” Nevertheless, Izumi
begrudgingly does as he’s told—well, as much as he’s able, when Vale takes one
look at that bridge and decides, fuck no.
 
“That’s really fair,” Izumi mutters underneath his breath, and he decides to
cut his losses. It’s not the first time he’s left Vale to fend for himself,
after all, and so Izumi slides off of his back, uncinches his saddle, and
unclips his pack from it. Vale immediately scuttles backward in a movement that
suits a skinny little capital racehorse than a Northern draft, and Izumi heaves
a sigh, turning away to make his way across the bridge in question.
 
It creaks. Clouds shouldn’t creak.
 
Izumi shivers in spite of himself, unsettled and hating every moment of it,
with his hand never quite leaving the hilt of his sword as he walks. That
unease simply won’t leave, settled in the pit of his stomach and making him
more restless with every step into the Shadowlands proper. If this is where Rei
and Ritsu are from, how do they even pretend at being human?
 
Movement stirs under the bridge--amorphous shapes made out of clouds, at first,
but it resolves slowly into hard shapes, the occasional claw or horn peeking
out of the darkness. A few come close, sniffing the air, but never quite close
enough to touch. The shadows surrounding Izumi firm, then bat away one shape,
making it hiss and pull back to the abyss below. After that, no more creatures
rise, though there’s a heightened sense of awareness, and a hundred thousand
watching eyes.
 
The second Izumi sets foot on the far shore, however, a door appears between
two trees, growing between them as if spun from a vine. Finally, a latch
appears, gleaming gold among the wood and leaves, and at the last second, as if
an afterthought, a little plaque above the door. The first several lines are in
spiraling script that seems to ebb and flow, but the last line, scratched
hurriedly at the bottom, is in Common.
 
[Welcome, Friend to Bloodbred. And Izumi.]
 
For a long moment, Izumi stands stark still, staring at the door. He’s assumed
he’s seen a lot of magic—perhaps he’s mistaken. No, he’s certain he’s mistaken
now. Being around wizards doesn’t necessarily mean he’s privy to all of the
things they’re involved in, and obviously, anything in the Shadowlands is a
step above that.
 
“I’m going to get eaten because I want a fancy pony, aren’t I,” Izumi mutters,
hesitantly stepping forward and reaching for the door’s latch to open it. “It
was nice knowing you, Leo, Arashi, Mika, Kasa…”
 
The second he opens the door, something hits him--a man-shaped something, as
Ritsu grabs him in a huge hug, smelling of cotton and soap and just a little
bit of incense. “Yaaaay, you came! I didn’t wanna fly out and bring you in, it
makes me sooo sleepy...but you’re here! I knew you’d make it!”
 
The house itself is surprisingly normal-looking. Most of it would be at home in
an average Capital or Northern home, with a few exceptions--houseplants that
twitch this way and that, curtains that look incorporeal, windows right next to
each other that show different times of day and weather patterns.
 
Izumi blinks in open, startled surprise that he is not only not dead, but is
instead cuddled fiercely by a sweet-smelling Ritsu that looks more vibrant than
Izumi ever remembers seeing him. “This…is where you live?” he manages, glancing
around in vague confusion before he remembers to hug back. “I have to admit, I
expected more gloom and doom. And more things trying to eat me.”
 
“You should see my Mom’s room.” Ritsu beams, and immediately draws Izumi close
again, welcoming him with a lingering suck to the side of his neck. “Mm,
welcome, welcome, do you have stuff? You can leave it here, the Shades will
take care of it. You wanna stay in my room? Or you want the guest room, hehe?”
 
A reply lingers on Izumi’s tongue and doesn’t quite make it off of it when his
knees briefly wobble, deciding now is a good time to react strongly to Ritsu’s
sudden over-affection. “You…are so much more cheerful than I’ve ever seen you,”
he manages, giving up and setting his bag down. “Does the rest of the world not
sit well with you? You do nothave to stop.”
 
“It’s the sun,” Ritsu explains, hovering from foot to foot, then reaching out
to grab Izumi close again, nuzzling into his hair. “It makes me feel awful and
sleepy. Up here where there isn’t sun, this is the real me. Ahhh, you wanna see
the horses? Orrrrr...”
 
Red eyes flicker, and one fine dark brow twitches. “You wanna go for a
different kind of ride first?”
 
“Yes. No. I—you’re very cute?” Sounding a mix of perplexed and aroused is
troubling, but inevitable, at this rate. Izumi struggles with how exactly to
proceed, then gives up, deciding Ritsu is too desirable a prize to pass up. The
horses aren’t going anywhere, either. “Have you fed?” he presses, knowing
that’s a one-way ticket to exactly what they both want. “I’m sure a proper meal
is easier to come by here, but…”
 
Ritsu’s eyes blink in a parody of his usual sleepy flutter, but there’s energy
behind the motion, something sly. “I don’t starve in my own house,” he murmurs,
grabbing Izumi by the collar. “But no one tastes as good as youuuu. Mm, remind
me after and I’ll give you a proper welcome as a visiting prince. But
first...come to my room.”
 
“I’m no prince,” Izumi quietly protests, but he follows like a puppy being
pulled along by its leash, unable (and unwilling) to say no. “I suppose you
are, though, aren’t you, if your brother is the Demon King.”
 
“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Ritsu beams, tugging Izumi up a winding staircase, up and up,
though the house hadn’t looked that tall from the outside. “Yeah, if he ever
dies, the Shadowlands are mine...he’s not really doing his job much, though,
the last fifty years, so some of my relatives are trying to get me to take
over. Lame.”
 
“Of course he isn’t, he’s busy fucking Shu in every place in the world that
he’s allowed.” So much for this not being a proper castle. Those stairs just
keep going, and Izumi can’t help but let his eyes roam. The sheer amount of
strange, subtle magic that makes the walls change in texture (wood? stone? who
knows) is disconcerting, and the dull roars of creatures lurking outside make
him quicken his pace to follow more closely at Ritsu’s heels, his fingers still
hovering about the hilt of his sword. “Can regular humans…even stand to be in
this place?”
 
Ritsu laughs, turning backwards to walk that way for a few steps, feet light in
a dance. “I mean, they don’t die or anything. I told you, I eat well up
here...but not usually from a prince, this is going to be fuuuuun.”
 
“Can you not call me that? You’re perpetuating the capital’s idea that the
North is a filthy traitor and trying to take over everything,” Izumi sighs.
It’s hard to scold Ritsu too much when he looks happier than Izumi has ever
seen him, but he might as well while he still can. “I know you haven’t been in
the Capital much recently, but…”
 
“Mm, I don’t mean of the realm,” Ritsu assures him, finding a door’s latch and
opening it, carved onyx swinging inward. “I mean on the side of your family
that matters up here. Half-drakes are really rare, you know?”
 
“Are…they?” Izumi manages, his head tilting to the side. Ritsu’s room looks
surprisingly normal, but trusting that seems unwise, considering. He warily
unbuckles his sword, though he’s not entirely sure he should be putting it down
yet. “There have been stories about drakes for centuries in the North. I mean,
they don’t call drakes ‘drakes’, but that’s obviously what they’re about…and if
they’re anywhere as horny as I am all the time, I’m not sure how half-bloods
like me can be that rare.”
 
Ritsu cocks his head to the side, then murmurs, “Oh, right, you don’t know much
about them, right? Ahh, usually...” He shuts the door behind them, and the
walls start to crawl, patterns appearing and disappearing, sketching designs
and being wiped clean like patterns traced on the sand between waves. The bed
is sumptuous and enormous, and he casually kicks an ornate silver cup under the
bed. “Usually drakes take the mother and the children back to the glaciers.”
 
“Oh.” That’s news to him. Izumi sets his sword next to the door and makes his
way to the foot of the bed, where he drops down to start unlacing his boots.
“Yeah, my mother would’ve killed him if he had tried that,” he says with a wry
laugh. “I don’t know if he did try; she rarely, if ever, talks about it.”
 
“Mm, so you’re rare, see?” Ritsu beams. “And drakes used to be really important
up here, so everyone up here is gonna see you as a prince at least, since the
North hereditarily belongs to them, as far as my people are concerned. Nn, but
I don’t care, get your clothes off so I can eat you without leather in the
way.”
 
“That’s too much weird information at once, so explain it more later when
you’re not promising to eat me,” Izumi grouses, kicking his boots off and
swiftly making work of every button and fastening on his coat. “Or don’t. The
more you talk about it, the more it sounds like you’re trying to arrange some
kind of weird, political marriage for the Shadowlands with me.”
 
Ritsu makes a face, then tackles Izumi to the bed, tongue flicking out to lick
his ear. He lets his hand drag down, wriggling out of his clothes as he grabs
for Izumi’s chest. “Don’t wanna be a girl,” he complains. “No marriage for us.
Besides, Mao wouldn’t wanna be my concubine, I already asked.”
 
Izumi melts down into the bed, exhaling a hot, shaky breath at the sheer relief
being shoved down into the bed brings. “I have no idea what you mean when you
say you don’t wanna be a girl, but I also don’t care,” he groans, his fingers
grabbing at Ritsu’s back, then dragging down, helping him out of his pants.
“You’re so lovely, fuck you.”
 
Ritsu’s clothes suddenly disappear in a breath of smoke, and he grins, grabbing
Izumi’s ankles and yanking them up over his head. “As if I’d let you fuck me
right now,” he gloats, red eyes burning. “That’s for dessert.
This...mmm....this is my real treat.”
 
He moves as quickly as any of the shadows outside, darting forward to snap his
fangs into Izumi’s neck, mouth fastened to the skin with an urgent, over-eager
whimper as he starts to drink.
 
Izumi arches with a gasp, the initial bite immediately spreading euphoric,
tingly warmth through his limbs. He’s probably in the minority that think this
feels good—Tsukasa has told him stories, full of complaints and growling in
Ritsu’s general direction—especially when Ritsu drinks so deeply, but it makes
him shiver and sag into the bed, his head rolling back as he strokes a hand
slowly down Ritsu’s spine. He can hear his own pulse thumping in his ears, the
way it slows, then speeds up again, replacing blood as quickly as it’s lost.
“Am I really that tasty?” he breathlessly asks, his eyes lidding. “You say you
eat up here, but you act like you’re starving…”
 
“Not one person in the world,” Ritsu breathes, finally pulling back, lips and
teeth stained red, “tastes as good as you. You’re my faaaaavorite flavor.”
 
He licks his lips, long tongue flicking out now that he doesn’t feel like
hiding it, and he shifts, getting his knees on the bed between Izumi’s thighs.
“Mm, like this, you look like my pretty vulnerable prey...the only thing that
would make it better....” His eyes flash, and a shadow darts out, lashing
Izumi’s wrists to the bedpost.
 
Once again, Izumi is certain he’s going to actually be eaten for a damned
horse. In this context, though, he minds it far less, and he sags back with a
ragged huff of breath, feeling the aching throb of Ritsu’s bite in his neck
still, his eyes following the flick of Ritsu’s tongue. He swallows, his toes
curling as he shifts, trying to splay his legs a bit wider, and he gives an
experimental tug on what binds him. A little flutter of nerves over how
impossibly caught he is makes him harder, because of course it does. “You can
drink as much as you want, then,” he murmurs. “You’re being a good host, after
all…”
 
“I know,” Ritsu murmurs, trailing down Izumi’s body. “Can I drink from your
thigh? Hurts less when you squirm around, you know. And it’s more fun to hold
you down that way...”
 
“D…drink from wherever you want, I don’t mind.” Izumi’s chest heaves, his
fingers slowly curling into his palms as he squirms deliberately, splaying his
legs in an open invitation. “It’s fine if it hurts, I like it, but…when you
drink, it feels good.” He licks his lips, eyes trained down to watch Ritsu’s
path downward. “I miss it, when you aren’t in the capital…”
 
“Mm, I know.” Ritsu rubs his cheek against Izumi’s thigh, listening for a
moment, hearing his stomach growl. “You’ve got too much blood, you know. Your
body can keep making more, but you’ve got to get someone to take out the old
stuff. But that’s good for me,” he reassures him, letting his fangs creep out
of his mouth, looking longer than ever. “The older it is, the sweeter. I like
it when you’re...nice and ripe.”
 
And then he strikes, almost surgically sinking both fangs into Izumi’s thigh,
both of them striking the big femoral artery.
 
“Fuck,” Izumi whimpers, his leg reflexively jerking against the bite, the
muscle flexing underneath Ritsu’s mouth. When Ritsu drinks there, it makes him
less light-headed, but it feels all the more intimate, somehow, and it feels
like it’s going straight to his cock with every mouthful Ritsu swallows down.
He shivers hard, his head lolling back as he stares with fuzzy vision up at the
shifting textures of Ritsu’s ceiling, the flush that heats up his body as it
automatically tries to heal itself and produce more blood bordering on too
much, overstimulating him already. “You…ah…t-that’s…gods, j-just stay in the
capital, then, I’ll die if you don’t…”
 
Ritsu ignores him, drinking with relief, truly sating himself until he’s as
full as he can be, finally detaching with a last suck. He sighs, delightedly
content, and kisses Izumi’s thigh. “Capital’s too sunny,” he murmurs. “I’ll
just keep you here forever as my snack, Mom would be real happy. Don’t worry,”
he assures Izumi, stroking his belly as he settles between his thighs, rubbing
the head of his hard cock against Izumi’s, then down. “I’ll make you feel so
good, you won’t want to leave. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
 
“I…m..maybe, I…” Ah, now he’s lightheaded. It’s impossible not to be as his
body tries to catch up to Ritsu’s feeding, and now that he’s trembling,
overstimulated, annoyingly turned on, words are hard. “Riitsu, you’ve gotta
take care of me,” Izumi dazedly manages, slumping into the bed, his cock
twitching when Ritsu rubs against him, his nipples achingly hard. “No one else
does, but you…you get it, you’re…”
 
“You’re going to die if I don’t take care of you,” Ritsu murmurs, eyes raking
over Izumi’s body. Then with one fluid movement, he lunges forward, sliding his
cock in deep, closing his mouth around one nipple. “Mmm, what a good
girl...you’re so tight, like a virgin...”
 
Izumi arches with a gasping, throaty noise, his nails biting into his own palms
as he reflexively yanks against his bindings, wanting to sink his fingers into
whatever part of Ritsu he can. It’s far too much, too sudden and all at once,
and the ragged sob that leaves his throat when Ritsu’s mouth closes over an
already aching nipple makes him tense up even more, squeezing down around
Ritsu’s cock. It should probably hurt, but Ritsu’s cock feels slick inside of
him, making him shiver and squirm down instead of away. “H…how…do you
always…fuck, please, that’s so good, you c-can’t…”
 
“Because I can hear your body.” Ritsu’s voice is a breathless sing-song, and he
presses another kiss to Izumi’s chest, then moves up to his neck, nibbling,
then biting again, drinking deep no matter that there’s no more room in his
belly. He pulls off after just a couple of sips, groaning as he thrusts in deep
again, then again, grinding in hard with every breath. “I can’t--you taste so
good, I could live on nothing but you...you filled me up...now I’ll fill you
up, hmm?”
 
Izumi nods helplessly, squeezing his eyes shut when Ritsu grinds in hard and
deep, sliding in so perfectly that his body gives an unexpected clench down,
his back arching off the bed when his cock twitches hard, dripping steadily
over his stomach. The sound of blood thundering in his ears makes him pant
harder, each breath making him try to wriggle down until pulling against his
bound arms makes them ache. “Dizzy,” he dimly mumbles, twisting to try and turn
his head aside and press a flushed, painfully hot cheek to the sheets in search
of a cool spot. “In…in a good way…Riiitsu…” Izumi’s legs tremble, his toes
curling in the air as he squeezes his thighs tighter around Ritsu’s waist. “Why
aren’t you…always fucking me, ’s not fair…”
 
“I’m fucking you now,” Ritsu murmurs, hands squeezing tightly on Izumi’s
thighs. “You love this...because I know your body better than you do, don’t I?”
 
He chuckles, a dark, rich sound, as he rocks in in a perfect, pulsing rhythm,
seeking out that angle that he knows will make Izumi mewl like a kitten. “So
I’m--that’s why you--nnh, tell me how much you love it, you’ll die without it
in you, right?”
 
Another, desperate nod follows. Izumi melts back into the bed, letting Ritsu
pull him instead of trying to squirm how he thinks is best—Ritsu’s right, of
course. He knows better, and having him drag him where he wants, when he wants
feels better.
 
“I…” Izumi fumbles for words, his mouth falling open as his focus wavers. His
skin burns, a hard, wracking shiver raking through him as his thighs clamp
around Ritsu’s waist. “F-feels like I’m gonna die…either way,” he pants out,
his vision blurring again. Ritsu’s cock is hot and thick inside of him, and
every twitch around it makes him gulp for air. “But it’s…so good…R-ritsu, you
gotta…come in me, then I can…”
 
“You can beg for me to breed you all you want,” Ritsu hums, leaning down to
lick a long stripe over Izumi’s ear, his tongue darting inside, then retracting
as he sucks on Izumi’s earlobe. “I like hearing it...mm, but I’m not going to
give you what you want until I’m nice and ready, you know? You’re here to serve
the Demon Prince’s pleasure...”
 
Izumi sobs, his back arching sharply off the bed as he comes before Ritsu even
finishes that sentence. Every single tremor makes him try to press and rub up
against Ritsu more, unthinking so long as it feels good as his cock drips over
his stomach, sweat and come sticking them together. “You…f-fuck…p-please,
please…” His breath hiccups, the tense, trembling muscles in his legs aching as
he tries to cling to Ritsu like that all the more. “Ritsuuu…”
 
Ritsu grins, and the low light in the room glints off his teeth. When he feels
Izumi come, he slows down, grinding in and out of him at an easy, less-frantic
pace, working Izumi’s body like a stringed instrument, reaching up to pluck at
his nipples. “Aa-ah, did that feel nice?” he croons, stroking Izumi’s cheek.
“Thanks for making it even wetter for me, now I can really take my time...”
 
Izumi’s head rolls to the side to butt against Ritsu’s hand, a low, broken
groan pulled from his throat. He can’t tell if it’s sweat or tears that roll
into his eyes, and he blinks a few times, trying to clear his fuzzy vision. It
doesn’t work, but fortunately, he cares little. “T…that’s you that’s making it
wetter inside, you’re d…dripping so much…” His voice hitches with every pull to
his nipples, and the muscles in his arms tremble as he pulls half-heartedly
against the shadows wrapped about his wrists, holding him in place. “You feel
so good, you’re not allowed to leave,” he mumbles, his own tongue snaking out
to drag between Ritsu’s fingers.
 
“Hmm, looks like you want to be filled at the other end, too?” Ritsu asks, hips
rocking in deep, pausing for a minute, just enjoying the slick squeeze of
Izumi’s body for a while. “Mm, maybe I should call some of my friends in here
to feed you...you don’t know them, but you don’t care, right? As long as they
have nice big cocks for you to suck?”
 
A visible shudder goes through Izumi, and he clenches down, twisting underneath
Ritsu when that quickly becomes too much. “I…j-just want you, though…” he
whines, his eyes fluttering as he twists his head to the side, sucking one of
Ritsu’s fingers into his mouth. “I’ll suck yours later,” he breathes as he
licks at the tip of it. “Don’t…don’t share me, not yet…”
 
“Lame,” Ritsu teases, but his smile, and the way that he shoves in hard and
deep, suddenly setting a bruising cadence, speaks to the lie behind those
words. He groans, and stuffs his tongue into Izumi’s mouth, sucking and
tasting, as he slams in a final time, spilling himself as far inside Izumi as
he can get. “Serve you right if you had my baby,” he murmurs, head thunking
down to Izumi’s shoulder.
 
A rumbling groan escapes Izumi’s throat, and he slithers down, trembling and
sweaty and sated. “It’d be…really…really pretty,” he dazedly manages, his head
rolling back as he tries, as if it’ll help, to squeeze his melty, useless thigh
muscles around Ritsu to keep him inside, and not spill anything. “Is there a
magic way to do it? You’re a wizard, you’d know…”
 
“Mm, sure,” Ritsu says casually, nuzzling into Izumi’s neck. “But you’d steal
it, you can’t help it.”
 
“If I had to carry it, damn right I’d steal it,” Izumi mutters, shifting with a
wince. “Let my hands go, let me cuddle you, don’t you dare pull out.”
 
“Hehe, you’re at my mercy, be nice and maybe I’ll release you.”
 
Izumi flops back with a soft huff. “I’m always nice to you,” he says, but he
doesn’t complain. It’s not like he dislikes being tied up with someone still
inside of him, and if it’s Ritsu, it’s bound to stay good. Tilting his head
back, he blows a sweaty strand of hair out of his face, his eyes lidded. “Seems
like it would be easier to just embrace being a monster rather than stay a
human, if this is what happens.”
 
“Way easier,” Ritsu agrees immediately, and with a wave of his hand, the
shadows around Izumi’s wrists vanish. “It’s always really hard for the first
five years or so when I leave here...every time I come back, I stay a little
longer...”
 
“Why do you even leave?” Izumi lowers his arms with a grimace, his eyes lidding
as he rubs at his wrists. They don’t hurt, but it doesn’t stop his arms from
being sore courtesy of all of his tugging. “If it’s so much easier here, and
you’re obviously so much happier…” His eyes still won’t focus quite right, and
he blinks a couple of times, trying to shake off the odd, too-sharp focus they
have. “My eyes are doing that weird snake thing, aren’t they.”
 
Ritsu nods, with a little smile. “It’s sexy. You don’t need to hide that kind
of thing here, don’t forget. I like your snake parts.”
 
“But this kind of thing happens more and more.” Izumi’s mouth twists a little.
“I know you don’t mind, but humans tend to think it’s creepy.”
 
“Yeah...that’s not a thing up here,” Ritsu says, then stretches, sitting back
up on his knees. “You want the tour now? Or we can fuck again, I don’t know how
many times you need it. Oh, you want your horse?”
 
“At least tell me how to turn it on and off,” Izumi whines, hissing out a
breath through his teeth when Ritsu shifts. Grumpily, he wriggles away as well,
not impressed with the mess or how it feels to be empty again, but needs must.
“If we can do it again later, that would be good,” he settles upon. “Normally,
this wouldn’t be enough, but…I dunno, it’s you, and maybe because we’re here. I
definitely want my horse, though.”
 
“Mmm, all right.” Ritsu shrugs into something that looks like it’s made of
shadows, which resolves itself into a comfortable robe, fastened around his
waist. “There’s a trick that we teach to Shadowbred kids. Moms pinch you right
here--”
 
He takes Izumi’s hand, then pinches him between index finger and thumb, in the
soft web, with both of his nails digging into the flesh. “It hurts a little,
right? But imagine how it would feel to a human. For me, when I think like
that, it starts to hurt a lot worse, and the teeth and everything go away for a
while.”
 
Izumi frowns, and tries to focus on that as directed—though perhaps more
accurately, how much Leo would whine and squeal about it if he were the one
being pinched. He blinks a few times, and it’s a relief to see that it works,
helping his pupils return to normal and not the snake-like slits they want to
shift towards in moments like these. “Mm. Thanks.” He sits back, raking his
hair out of his face. “Can Mao not come here at all?” he finally, bluntly asks.
“Is that why you leave?”
 
Ritsu frowns, and his eyes swirl, gone stormy for a moment. “Humans...can
come,” he says warily. “He’s traveled in the Shadowlands before. But he’s
always gonna be in danger up here, even in my house. The air itself...could eat
a human. But that’s not really why I leave.”
 
“Then why? If you wanted him here, you’d keep him here,” Izumi says, stretching
before he slides off the bed, scooping up his clothes to dress as he does.
“Whether it’s dangerous or not.”
 
Ritsu shrugs, looking away. “Whatever, I’m gonna show you a horse that you’re
going to love. And then I’m going to give it to you as a loss leader.”
 
Izumi’s lips purse together as he yanks his boots on, lacing them up swiftly.
“Better be a hell of a horse if I came all the way here for you to be close-
mouthed and stingy,” he says underneath his breath, straightening up. He ties
his hair back, and then promptly swats the back of Ritsu’s head. “If he hates
it here and you’re sulking, you can bitch about it. It’s not like I’d tell
him.”
 
Ritsu’s mouth twists. He leads the way down the stairs, heading towards the
stables. “He doesn’t say anything,” he says quietly. “But he doesn’t like it.
He doesn’t have other friends, and he gets mad when I have to do my duties.
I...I like it here, you know? But I like it out there, too. I....”
 
He clenches his fists, and lowers his voice. “I’m not going to be able to leave
for much longer,” he says quietly. “Not with the political situation up here.
Trust me, you do not want someone else’s family running the Shadowlands, not if
you care what happens to the North.”
 
“…Forgive my stupidity on this, but I wasn’t even aware there was much of
a…political structure here,” Izumi admits, keeping his own voice low. “I knew
your brother was in charge—sort of? but he’s not here, so how much can he
be?—and I figured it was a matter of ‘whoever is the strongest runs it all.’”
He hesitates, then asks the question that’s been bothering him since Ritsu
started sucking on his neck: “What about your bond, though? Doesn’t it…bother
you?”
 
Ritsu shrugs. “Nah. I’m pretty used to managing all these half-blood cravings,
it’s not any worse than that. And he can’t feel it at all, since he’s just a
human. But Izumi, you gotta understand, the Demon King? Only controls one
thing. Guess what it is.”
 
Seriously, that’s not fair.He’s human, and the itchy, restless insecurity of a
broken bond is probably the worst thing in the world. Izumi shrugs, irritated.
“Uhh…demons?”
 
Ritsu rolls his eyes. “No. The Demon King controls who everyone’s allowed to
feed on. And my stupid brother? He made the rule that no one is allowed to feed
outside the current borders. Think about what would happen if someone who
didn’t agree with that became King...”
 
“Like you?” Izumi deadpans. “You’ve had me for dinner countless times outside
of these borders. Sorry, sorry, I know, I’m being an ass, I get what you’re
saying.” He worries at his lower lip, thinking. “Is that really that big of a
deal? I thought Shadowlands creatures didn’t travel very often, and even then,
it was only really powerful ones that did.”
 
Ritsu snorts. “Because of the rules. Humans are so sweet...” He drools a
little, eyes glazing at the thought. “But only us old ones, and the ones with
really high breeding like us, can actually stop ourselves once we start. You
can get a special travel permit, I’ve got one.”
 
“Damn. This place is so much more like a regular, obnoxious country than I
thought.” Izumi slings an arm around Ritsu’s waist, pulling him sideways to
give him an absent squeeze. “If you have to stay put up here, do what you’ve
got to do. Mao still works for the Academy; I’ll revive their outpost in the
North, and you know your brother will stick him there if you ask. A lot easier
for you two to see each other that way, yeah?”
 
Ritsu looks over, meeting Izumi’s eyes for a long moment, then grabs him close
and kisses him. “Can’t do that outside in a regular country,” he says smugly.
“I can do that wherever I want here. And no one cares what you do inside your
own borders. I mean, I guess a lot of people wouldn’t like that, some of the
Sidhe folk sure don’t, but....I dunno, I think freedom is better.”
 
“It definitely has an appeal to it,” Izumi mutters, licking his lips as he
glances aside, a flush rising to his cheeks. “Does anyone else know? That
you’re probably going to have to stay put here soon?”
 
“Brother,” Ritsu mutters. “He warned me. He tried to keep me out of it, you
know? He tried to let me know that I could take off, or even disappear
completely. But it’s gonna get out that he’s accepted a foreign position soon,
and someone’s got to figure out what to do about the plague.”
 
“The plague.” It’s a weary deadpan at best. “What plague, pray tell.”
 
“You sure you don’t want to ride the horse first?” Ritsu asks with a sigh.
 
“…You know, yeah. I’d rather ride the horse than do just about anything right
now.” Izumi grabs Ritsu’s face, dragging him close until their foreheads touch.
“I will do anything I can to make your job easier here if you make my job
easier in the North, and in the Capital,” he seriously says. “Please.”
 
“Anything,” Ritsu says with a shrug. “I don’t have a lot of responsibilities,
which is pretty awesome. What’s the problems? Tell me, I’ll figure something
out, I have so much energy right now.”
 
“I need eyes. In the Hinterlands. In the North, even. There’s too much going
on, political unrest against the Capital, the slave trade, the weapons trade…I
even need that extended into the West, because of all the chatter that goes on
around Arashi.” Izumi exhales the breath he’d been holding, rocking back onto
his heels. “I know you spied for Arashi before. I’m not asking you to do it
personally, I just…trust you to find someone that can. No one talks to me.”
 
Ritsu blinks for a minute, then nods. “You want humans, enchanted objects,
animals, shapeshifters, what? Lemme break it down. Humans can go most places,
but they gotta make up backstories, so they’re best in big cities. It’s also
easy for them to send messages, but they have to be coded. Objects, duh, they
won’t be suspicious, and you can listen through them whenever you want, I’ll
give you some of those and you can put them wherever, but I can’t stop people
from picking them up and tossing them away. If you want animals, they’re great
in rural areas, and I’ve got plenty that are human-level intelligent, but they
suck in cities, even the ones that look like stray dogs. The little rat ones
are good, but it takes them forever to get messages out, and if they get stuck
somewhere, it takes them a long time to get out. And shapeshifters are the
best. They’re my elites. But you’d have to pay them.”
 
“This is why you’re a fucking treat to talk to,” Izumi mutters, visibly
relaxing. “All of the above, honestly, but—what kind of payment are your
shapeshifters expecting? I’m not going to have to give them a firstborn or
something creepy like that, right?”
 
Ritsu hesitates. “I mean...the thing about shapeshifters is...all I can really
do is put you into contact with them, I can’t tell them what to do. I know my
dumb brother has a couple that he pays in his own hair, and I’ve got one that
wants a new horse every two weeks, and my uncle had one that just wanted to
hear a new joke every year. So, uh, it’s kind of up to them. They’re...weird.
They’re Sidhe from way back, you know? Nah, you probably don’t, but that’s a
whooooole other explanation.”
 
“Yeah, I have no clue what that’s about,” Izumi confirms, shrugging. “But sure,
put me in touch. I’m not going to turn down any means of assistance at this
point. The capital’s not a hospitable place right now, and every single time
nobles that hate me are around, I have to be sent out of the city like a child
in exile. I’m done taking it quietly.”
 
“I’ll pay for all the others,” Ritsu says dismissively. “Mm, but it might take
me a while to contact all the shapeshifters...they don’t really like being
summoned, so I’ll have to ride out and contact each one myself. I mean, I could
just tell you where they are and you could go by yourself....buuuuuut I’m not
sure you could find your way around.”
 
“I’d offer to say ‘fuck it’ and figure it out, but I don’t think I can be away
for that long,” Izumi admits. “I’ve already been away from the capital for
months—I’m supposed to be heading back now, but first things first.”
 
Ritsu’s eyes glint. “Yeah. And this might just change things for you.”
 
He rounds the bend, and raps on a stable door, swinging it open to reveal a
very normal-looking stable--except that the doors and hinges are all reinforced
with thick metal bars. “You want the fastest one?” he asks, pausing by one
stall. The door goes all the way to the top, with no glimpse of the creature
inside. “Or the nicest one?”
 
“Fastest. Northern horses are mean as sin, I don’t need anything nice,” Izumi
says without hesitation. The stall doors do make him raise an eyebrow, but not
enough to take back his words. “It’s not a mare, is it? Gods, I hate mares,
it’d be so cliche for me to ride one…”
 
“It’s a mare,” Ritsu announces, pleased. “And she’s not nice. I call her Bitch.
She’s yours now, enjoy.” He strokes a finger down the stall door, and it swings
open, revealing a typical half-door, and a stunning, coal-black horse inside.
She turns her head, sniffing the air, and her nostrils flare. “Uhhh, have fun,
if you’re taking her out I’m running away.”
 
“Why do you call her the same thing you call me?” Izumi snidely quips, though
one glance at the horse silences him. He might be drooling a little, and that
does make him stupid, even if Ritsu is wary. Maybe just a little authority is
all it will take, Vale certainly came around to him quickly… “Maybe it’s a
match made in heaven, huh? Come here, pretty. How fast can you get me from here
to the Capital, huh?”
 
“Three days,” Ritsu says, stepping back until his back hits the wall. “And you
won’t need to rest her. She only eats meat, though.”
 
Bitch turns her head back and forth, then rears in her stall, striking out with
a hoof. It slams into the half-door with a brutal impact, leaving a four-inch-
deep impact crater. Her ears flick back, and she rears again, letting out a
sound that’s almost like a too-human scream.
 
“You know what,” Izumi hastily says, backtracking as quickly as he ever has,
“you can shut the door again, that’d be good. I’ll teach her who’s boss later
and that’s not today.” Already, he misses Vale, even if he’s less suited for
traveling these days. “Is there, ah, a typical way to get on the good sides of
death-creatures like these?”
 
“I dunno. Bring her food, I guess.” Ritsu shrugs. “They’re evil. Mm, when I was
little, I bit my horse. She liked me after that.”
 
“…Yeah, that sounds like you. Can they interbreed with horses that aren’t from
here? Assuming I find a stallion that’s not pissing himself at the sight of
her.”
 
“I bet they can. We just don’t usually let them leave, so, you know. Oh, but
just so you know, if you manage to get onto her and get her going? She
basically won’t stop until you tell her to. And she takes reins pretty well.”
 
“‘If I manage to get onto her’, he says,” Izumi mutters, even as he still
admires the horse that definitely wants him dead. “Is she going to try and eat
me? Serious question.”
 
“I mean....” Ritsu rolls a shoulder in a lazy circle. “I mean, you won’t die,
right?”
 
“You know what, fair enough. Wanna go for a ride?”
 
“Heh, your confidence is really sexy.” Ritsu batts his eyelashes. “Meet me
outside. I’d give you a time, but, uh, whenever you can manage it. I’ll be
there.”
 
“I aim to please.” Izumi sucks in a breath, bracing himself as he reaches for
the latches on the stall door. “See you in a bit, Your Highness.”
***** Chapter 34 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
The land never feels right.
 
On the shores of High Harbor, the ocean laps slowly forward during low tide,
washing quiet, gentle little waves over him, over and over. It should be
refreshing, bringing much-needed air through his gils, but instead, it chokes
him, repeatedly flooding his lungs with salty unpleasantness that makes him
resent this form all the more.
 
Being forced to play human is not Kanata’s specialty, and that probably will
never change.
 
He pouts as he stares up at the star-studded sky, though that ends, too, when
another wave flips the long, weaving curls of his hair over and into his face.
He continues pouting, but now the moon can’t see, as he sprawls moodily in a
shallow tide pool, naked and starting to chill. Perhaps, if he were a little
more human, this would be more of an imposition. As it is, he almost hopes
he’ll drown—for the greatest irony of ironies. But then who will take care of
Chiaki?
 
Not that he deserves Chiaki in the state that he’s in now. Kanata burrows
further down into the sand, hoping the water will slowly create a tomb around
him.
 
“Excuse me? Ah, Ma’am? Or S-sir?”
 
The speaker in question is young, hovering around the age of conscription, with
a new-looking uniform just slightly askew on his shoulders. It bears the
insignia of the High Harbor Guard (or whatever Defense Ultra Force their
Commander is calling it this week), though not the hat of an evening patrolman.
The too-bright flush in the man’s face speaks of drink, and nearby giggles from
one of the dunes speak of other activities, likely interrupted by the sight
of…well, something, on the beach. He adjusts his collar, and asks, “Are you
alive? That is, are you all right? I’ll have to report it if it’s a body, oh,
gods…”
 
Kanata’s eyes sharpen, glittering slits of green in the dark. He lunges up,
grabbing the front of the man’s uniform, right at the insignia, and his long
nails nearly lance through the fabric in the process. Oops. “You’re…not
Chiaki,” he grumpily says, a lump of seaweed dripping down from his hair and
onto his bare thighs. “You should…find him for me…”
 
“M-Morisawa Chiaki? Commander Morisawa?” The young man’s voice stutters, as he
tries in vain to make sense of the ethereal, dangerous-seeming creature
currently grabbing and clinging to him. “Um, if you want to go to him, I guess
I can take you?”
 
“Or…bring him here.” Kanata looks mournfully away, at the waves that keep
casually rolling into him. “I don’t…think I want to leave the sea, not yet…”
 
“Ah…” The man scratches the back of his head, looking apprehensive. “U-um, the
Commander is a very important man, I don’t know…is there a name I can give
him?”
 
“Kanata.” Kanata’s stare bores straight through the man. “If you don’t bring
him…I’ll eat you.”
 
There isn’t the slightest doubt in the man’s mind that this strange creature,
washed up on the beach and looking at him with fathomless eyes, means what he
says. Without another word, he turns tail and dashes away as fast as he can,
leaving a chorus of confused protests from the dunes behind him.
 
The first rays of dawn haven’t brightened the sky when footsteps sound, and
Commander Morisawa of the High Harbor Infinitely Wonderful Defensive Protection
Squad (this week) races onto the dunes, sand flying with every strike of his
feet. If the young soldier had been in disarray, the Commander is nearly
undressed, clearly having been dragged out of his bed. He wears only underpants
and a long cloak, but the light in his eyes burns bright enough to outshine the
moon. “Kanata!” he yells, when he’s only a hundred meters away, closing fast
even on the slippery sand. “You—you’re back!”
 
Kanata, mournfully lamenting the tide escaping even further from him, jerks to
attention the second he hears Chiaki’s voice. “Chiakiiiiii,” he whines, pushing
himself up onto his hands, unwilling to rise to his feet just yet when he’s
created a decent enough indentation in the sand, filled with water that sates a
sliver of his need to be submerged. Maybe Chiaki won’t think he looks too
strange like this, minus the scales and fins he’s so accustomed to, but he
still feels miserably out of his element. Chiaki looks as perfect as always,
and Kanata’s lower lip wobbles as he stretches out one hand. “You took too
long.” 
 
Chiaki doesn’t hesitate for a breath before leaping to Kanata’s side, arms
going around him in a blazing hot, crushing hug that uses all of his strength,
as if he’s too overwhelmed to do anything less. He buries his face in the wet
skin, breath coming in deep, shuddering gasps, and for long moments, he can’t
even speak, just stands and holds and breathes. “You’re home,” he finally
chokes out, not releasing him in the slightest. “You came back to me.”
 
Ahh, that’s better, that’s so much better.
 
Even if Chiaki is so human, so very, very human, maybe he can feel it, if he’s
acting this way? Kanata clings to Chiaki’s neck, burying his face into his
shoulder. The warmth radiating from him is already so much that it feels like
it’ll dry up what moisture is left on his body, but Kanata cares little when he
can soak in Chiaki,and how warm and good and his he is.
 
“I told you…I would,” he softly says, squeezing Chiaki’s shoulders slowly. “Mm,
Chiaki…I can’t go back to the sea right now…so you have to take care of
me…okay?”
 
Some odd ripple of power goes through Chiaki, something that he hasn’t felt in
what feels like a decade, though logically he knows Kanata hasn’t been gone for
that long. It eases something in him, fills a spot he hadn’t known he was
empty, soothes an ache he hadn’t known was sore, with such a rush of relief
that he nearly sobs.
 
The throbbing, distracting loneliness that feels as if it’s about to crush him
at any moment, hovering over his head like a boulder supported by a single
string, rolls slowly back.
 
Chiaki takes a deep breath, and nods, pulling back at last and beaming. “Of
course! Here, here, you can stay with me, I brought you a cloak, are you well
enough to walk? I don’t mind carrying you—you’re taller than me, have you
always been taller than me? Ahh, the maids are going to have a field day, ha ha
ha!”
 
Kanata stumbles fully to his feet, swaying a little before plopping forward
against Chiaki again. “Legs…are no good,” he crossly says, pouting at him. A
tiny crab slowly crawls its way out of his sea-washed hair, and Kanata gingerly
picks it out—then eats it, downing it in one fell swoop without chewing. “I
haven’t…resembled a human…in a long time.”
 
Chiaki removes the heavy mantled cloak from his shoulders without a second’s
pause, swirling it around Kanata’s shoulders, fastening the ends together at
his chest. “I don’t have to worry about your scales when I hug you now,” he
says softly, eyes shining as he snakes an arm around Kanata’s waist, holding
him close as he walks, slowly, one foot in front of the other. “Just let me
know if you want me to carry you, but getting used to those legs is probably
good!”
 
Kanata’s pouting continues, but being squished up in Chiaki’s cloak and against
his side is nice, especially when he doesn’t have to be afraid of cutting him
just by breathing. “This is…fine,” he settles upon, watching his feet as he
walks, a little entranced by his own footsteps in the sand after so long.
“Ah…the pretty snake…has he been taking care of you? I told him to…or else. I
didn’t want you to be…so lonely…”
 
The thought of Izumi is a strange one, as always for Chiaki. A small flush
comes to his face, and he nods, matching his pace to Kanata’s almost
unconsciously, loving the way their bodies fit together, even like this, even
after so long. “He’s very generous with his time, whenever he can get here.
It’s been totally helpful! I hope…things are going better in your kingdom, and
that’s why they could spare you?” The hope in his voice is near pleading, even
as his instincts tell him he’s absolutely off the mark.
 
Kanata shakes his head slowly, a frown slowly making its way across his face.
“No,” he softly says, his brow furrowing. “Worse. They…sent me away, because
it’s so bad…and scary. They think…if I get hurt…that’ll be the end, so I…had to
come here, to fix it.”
 
Chiaki exhales slowly, a shadow on his features. “All right. No matter what
happens, I will be worthy of your people’s trust, and keep you safe, with my
own life in exchange if I must. Though…” His tone softens, and he adds, almost
shyly, “Though I’d rather not have to die, since I’m only now getting to see
you again.”
 
“Chiaki won’t die,” Kanata says firmly, pausing to twist in Chiaki’s arms and
grasp his face in his hands. He’s careful with his nails—cutting Chiaki is not
acceptable—even when he gently squeezes his cheeks. “It’s…not allowed. I’ll
keep you safe, too. Chiaki’s mine, after all…”
 
Chiaki’s smile is warmer than any hug, warmer than any hearth fire. He doesn’t
even bother looking around to see if they’re alone before he leans down,
brushing his lips over Kanata’s in a gentle kiss that speaks of relief, of
grateful rest, of a love that’s been eating him alive for long, lonely months.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep us safe. So we can keep everyone else safe.”
 
Kanata nods, then promptly lurches forward to kiss him again, deeply and with
exactly zero abandon. “Ah…this is good,” he settles upon when he releases
Chiaki, licking at his lips. “The only good thing…about this form. I don’t hurt
you, when we touch.”
 
Chiaki kisses him again, just once, before letting go with a boyish grin,
taking him by the waist again and leading him towards the barracks. “I never
minded when you did. A pure love like ours can endure any wounds!”
 
“But I minded,” Kanata pouts, trailing along next to him, slowly getting the
hang of walking like a human again. “I still have my teeth…but I have to make
them appear now. Mm, Chiaki…I have to contact Rei…so he knows, about
everything.” He hesitates, then adds, far more quietly, “We probably can’t stay
here, for very long…it’s dangerous, for me to be so close to the sea…”
 
“Here on the beach? Not to worry, we’re on our way into the city!”
 
“No, in this city. It’s too close, all of it.”
 
Chiaki visibly deflates. But what’s the point in protesting what must be? He
shakes himself, steels his shoulders, and nods. “I’ll send a messenger to Rei
immediately. Will one day be all right?”
 
“Mm. One day…is fine, if I’m with you.” Kanata’s eyes lid. “Chiaki…if I leave,
you’ll leave with me.”
 
“Yes.” It’s not even a question, without a heartbeat of hesitation. “I have
brave, strong men and women to watch my city. My place is at your side. Ahhh,
this will be a great opportunity for my Lieutenant to show his stuff.”
 
Kanata flops against him a bit in relief. “I thought Chiaki would argue,” he
sighs. “But instead…Chiaki is as good, as always. The city…it already feels
unwell, you can’t stay here, not now. The demons, they’re hungry…but it’s not
their fault.”
 
“Ah, you’re giving me too much credit,” Chiaki protests, though there’s a smile
on his face. “It’s only—well, if there’s one thing I learned from my last
adventure at your side, it’s that you’ll be where the monsters are most
dangerous, and that’s where I’ll need to be! Why don’t we just feed the demons,
and then they can go back to sleeping peacefully?”
 
Kanata shakes his head again. “They aren’t coming here to feed,” he quietly
says, clutching at Chiaki’s arm. “The pathways…they’re open…because of humans.
So demons drift in…and they feed, because humans are tasty…and then they can’t
stop. It’s bad. The more and more pathways open, the more the bad demons will
come…but the humans doing it…they don’t care. Even in the isles, it’s…no
good.” 
 
“Humans? It’s people that are bringing them?” Chiaki sighs, looking down at his
feet as they walk. “That’s so sad, they probably have no idea what kind of
trouble they’re causing. Do you know where they are? I’ll let them know to
stop, right away.”
 
“They know what they’re doing. It’s…the ones that trade human slaves…the ones
Rei has been trying to stop. They don’t care and…and worse, they try to capture
creatures, if they think they will be useful.” Kanata huffs. “Bad. They’re all
bad.”
 
Chiaki’s face falls, and his mouth settles into a grim line. It’s an expression
that his men both long and quail to see, when he drops the mantle of The Fool
and becomes truly The Commander, someone that even the most hardened of
criminals know to avoid. “I can’t forgive anyone who trades in the misery of
others for profit,” he says softly. “I’ll teach them that this is
unacceptable.”
 
“No one…will want to listen.” Kanata swallows, glancing down at his feet again.
“So…we’ll have to make them…or other humans will think…it’s the Shadowlands,
or…my clan, of the waves…but it’s just more humans. Rei said last…in the
Hinterlands, or in the Sandlands, that’s where it has to be…dealt with.” His
expression turns sulky. “Too cold and too hot…both are bad, and not wet.”
 
Chiaki’s arm tightens around Kanata’s waist, tucking the cloak in more tightly
as they reach the barracks, heading for his rooms. “I remember how to take care
of your scales from before, is it so different now? You always had a few…but
this, this is so new…”
 
Kanata shakes his head firmly, his full head of hair flopping. “No scales,” he
unhappily says. “Or gills. Not even toe-webs. I’m…a disguised fish. Chiaki,
it’s no good.”
 
“But you don’t need to swim on land, right? So it’s…it’s all right for a short
time?” Maybe if Chiaki acts excited, some of it will bleed through to help
Kanata be more excited, too, even if what he feels is less excited and more
desperate panic at the thought of him leaving again. “We’ll have fun! Death and
destruction and mayhem notwithstanding!”
 
“Human feet…are ugly, though. Why do you have that many toes.”
 
“I have no idea, haha! Maybe for grabbing things that you drop?”
 
“………No. Not that.”
 
“For balance, maybe?”
 
“But…I’m not balanced,” Kanata complains, pitching against Chiaki’s side to
make a point. “Do I…have to wear clothes…that sounds very not good.”
 
“We’ll make it fun!” Chiaki insists, easily walking Kanata up the stairs to his
room. “We’ll pick plenty of clothes that are fun for you to wear, and you’ll
look very beautiful in them, and handsome, and cool!”
 
Kanata’s nose wrinkles. “But…if I’m with Chiaki…being naked is better, I think.
Ah, I can finally be in your bed…not just in the sea…so that’s good…”
 
Chiaki gives him a smile, leading him to his door and popping up the latch. He
doesn’t bother with a key, rarely does, since the only things he has that he
considers worth stealing are the things he’d gladly give or lend to anyone in
the barracks in any case. The first rays of dawn are just breaking through the
window as he leads Kanata inside, reaching for the clasp of the cloak. “Then
don’t let me burden you with this right now, hmm?”
 
Kanata heaves a sigh of relief, shaking himself off much like a fish would
leaping out of the water. He loses his balance afterwards, flopping back into
Chiaki’s bed in a heap. In the actual light, it’s much more apparent that there
isn’t a single scale or strange fish part on his body—just pale skin and long,
lean limbs, with the heavy, tangled tumble of oddly blue hair falling down his
back and into his face. The only especially dangerous thing is still his nails,
long and narrow and sharp as claws, but even the excuse of simply not having
clipped them in some time could be given to explain them away. “Chiakiiii.” He
reaches out a grabbing hand. “Come heeere.”
 
Chiaki moves forward as if he were on a string, in a way that would be called
helpless if he were any less eager. He crawls onto the bed, hands and legs
straddling Kanata, enveloping him safely in the cradle of Chiaki’s body, where
he’s longed for this man in particular for so long. “It’s nice to see you when
my eyes are open, too,” he says softly, brushing a still-wet tendril of hair
back from Kanata’s face. “I’m so, so glad you’re home, Kanata.”
 
Kanata exhales a long, pleased breath, wrapping his arms around Chiaki as
tightly as they can go. Chiaki isn’t the sea, but he’s as good as the sea, even
if he’s so much warmer. The satisfying, healthy pulse of that bond makes him
shiver and relax, his too-many human toes curling. “Maybe…it’s okay to be human
for a little while,” he quietly says, staring up at Chiaki with eyes that never
seem to fully adjust to the light in the room. “If I get Chiaki.”
 
Chiaki grins, and moves to give Kanata another kiss just as deep, just as
hungry, but unrushed. They have time now, for a little while. And he’d
certainly used up his quota of embarrassing neediness, during their last time
together (clutching, grasping, salt in both their mouths, bodies frantic). Now,
it feels like he has all day to hold and touch, and he takes his time, enjoying
each kiss as much as possible. “If you’re from the ocean,” he murmurs, eyes
lidded, “why does being near you feel like taking my first breath in years?”
 
“Because we’re not supposed to be apart,” Kanata hums, stretching out his legs
slowly and shamelessly wrapping them around Chiaki to keep him close. Maybe
they can still work as tentacles. “Even if you’re human…there’s still magic in
you that makes you mine…that’s how it is.” His hans slowly pet down Chiaki’s
back, gentle but no less possessive. “My Chiaki, mine.”
 
“I thought I felt it less, because I’m human,” Chiaki says softly, moving to
kiss Kanata’s cheek, his chin, his neck, shoulder, chest, any part of him that
his mouth can reach. “If that’s true…I don’t know how wizards stand it. You’re
so strong…”
 
“You were with me a lot before…maybe that built up…or…nnh, something like
that…” Kanata sighs, letting his head loll back as his fingers drag up through
Chiaki’s hair, mussing it the wrong way. “But it hurt sooo much this
time…Chiakiii, we can’t be apart ever again…”
 
“Then you can’t go back to the sea,” Chiaki reminds him gently. “We’ll have to
think of a better solution, hmm? Ah, at least we’ve got a little while….ahhhh,
Kanata, that feels good, your nails….”
 
“Mmn, not too sharp?” Kanata tongue flicks out to wet his lower lip, which
already feels too dry now that he’s on land. “Gotta ask Rei,” he mutters, his
brow furrowed. “He…and Shu…they figured out a thing. It was so Rei could go
and…be Rei…but…still…maybe it’s less painful…”
 
“I don’t need anyone else.”
 
The words are quiet, but firm, and Chiaki’s eyes blaze when he says them,
curling a hand around one of Kanata’s hands, squeezing it. “The physical relief
with Lord Izumi was…fine, it was fun and as good as it could be, but…it’s not
you. Being near you—that’s all I need, to feel complete.”
 
Kanata’s lower lip wobbles before he throws his arms tightly around Chiaki
again, squeezing him until he hears his own bones pop. It’s such a relief to be
able to meld himself against him again, to the point that even stupid things
escape his tongue. “I don’t need the sea…if there’s you,” he sniffs. “Chiaki…I
know it’s bad…but when they told me I had to leave…and come here…I was glad,
because you’re here…”
 
“Hmm? What’s bad about that?” Chiaki doesn’t even blink at the tight squeeze,
just smiling down at Kanata, “I’m glad there’s a reason for you to be yourself
again. I can’t stop thinking about you trapped under the sea, far away from all
of your friends, made to wear a different form for so long…”
 
“If you talk to them…they would say I was being trapped here,” Kanata moodily
says, stuffing his face into Chiaki’s neck. “Maybe I won’t miss my family.
Maybe I’ll stay here…and marry Chiaki.”
 
“Mm, I’d be a very lucky man,” Chiaki says seriously. He reaches for a blanket,
then pauses before he tugs it over the two of them. “Do you still get
overheated at night? Ah, you’re probably tired, it was very presumptuous of me
to try to, ah, make advances when you’re obviously worn out…”
 
Kanata, wordlessly, rolls them, pinning Chiaki flat onto his back. “Chiaki
should let me eat him,” he bluntly says. “Before the sun gets too high and I
get crispy like a fish left on the beach.”
 
Chiaki’s smile is mischievous, and he quirks an eyebrow up at Kanata, before
raising one leg, looping it around Kanata’s waist. “All demons get hungry and
need to feed, right?” he asks, one corner of his mouth curling up. “Your way of
snacking has always been something I don’t object to…”
 
“Goood, because Chiaki’s mine.” Kanata’s eyes lid as he wriggles up between
Chiaki’s legs, mouthing over his shoulders, his neck. His hair, still moist at
the ends, drips against Chiaki’s chest, sticking to him like odd little curls
of seaweed. “This demon’s reeeeal hungry…no Chiaki for months…not good.”
 
A shiver that has nothing to do with water or wetness goes through Chiaki’s
body, rippling up his spine, making him twist and shudder under Kanata’s
weight. Kanata feels larger somehow than he had before he’d left, a solid
weight of a man between his thighs, and just that thought after so long makes
his eyelids flutter. He drags his hands down Kanata’s back, parting his thighs
to cradle Kanata’s hips, squeezing them around him. “Mm…then I hope I taste
good enough to appease the beast,” he whispers, eyes alight with the
possibilities.
 
Being tangled up in nothing but Chiaki makes Kanata feel almost drunk after so
long. That kind of magic isn’t something to toy with, but Kanata drinks it in
all the same, the heat of that vibrant bond making his breath catch every time
he as much as presses a fresh kiss to Chiaki’s skin. “You always do~…” he
sighs, nuzzling up into Chiaki’s hair as he rocks down, familiarizing himself
with the silly mechanics of a human body. Well, some things aren’t so
different…it’s just the legs that feel in the way still, after so long of not
bothering with them, but relearning comes naturally in moments like these. His
fingers slowly drag down Chiaki’s chest, stroking lean muscle underneath soft,
soft skin. “Chiakis taste the best after a little wait like this, I think…”
 
Chiaki loves Kanata more than the sun, more than air, far more than his own
life—but being eager and willing to live or die for someone’s happiness doesn’t
mean that person is never scary. Deep down, Chiaki is fairly certain that
Kanata will eat him, one day.
 
Not that that gives him the slightest pause.
 
He winds his arms around Kanata’s neck, one hand tangling in the long strands
of damp hair surrounding him like a curtain, the other tracing over the lean,
flat planes of Kanata’s muscles. “You got bigger,” he murmurs. “You’d be a fine
soldier now, I think…”
 
Kanata grumbles at that, and responds by swiftly sinking his teeth into
Chiaki’s shoulder. Perhaps they aren’t the serrated little knives they usually
are, but his teeth are still sharp enough to draw blood with a little bit of
pressure. “Nope,” he says, pulling back, licking the little drops of bright red
away from his lips. “Wizard only. Swords and things, not for me…”
 
He shifts, sighing out a shaky breath as his swiftly hardening cock rubs
against the inside of Chiaki’s thigh. “Off,” he murmurs, plucking at Chiaki’s
underthings with his nails. “Clothes are no good.”
 
Chiaki’s breath catches at the absentminded little order, blood pulsing through
his veins in a way that would be predictable, if it hadn’t been so long since
the last time. He kicks off his underwear with record speed, somehow managing
not to feel vulnerable even with Kanata acting so clearly predatory. Well, why
not? He only wants to stake his claim, after all. And I’ve always been his.
 
He kisses Kanata’s neck, legs parting again as he reaches to the side of the
bed, grabbing a rather thick-bottommed bottle and passing it over. Then, after
a moment of looking at Kanata’s nails, he takes it back. “Um, shall I?”
 
“Oh. Mm. Yes.” Kanata sits back as a mock picture of patience, his eyes lidded
and hungry, pale skin faintly flushed as he watches Chiaki from underneath his
lashes. “Sorry. Even if we cut them…they’ll be like this…mmn, that could be
more human, I guess.”
 
Chiaki laughs, tipping a practiced bit of oil onto his hand, a few overeager
drops spilling onto his belly as he does. “That’s why we’ve got four hands
between us, isn’t it? You…it looks like you have, ah, a pretty good view from
there, eh?” His fingers slip down between his thighs, and despite long
practice, his breath catches at the first eager press inside himself.
 
“Mmhm.” Kanata’s breath hitches, his fingers curling slowly into the sheets
underneath him as he watches, overeager and forcibly restraining himself.
“Chiaki…always looks like he enjoys it so much…it makes me want to eat you even
more, you know?”
 
“It’s good…to get nice and hungry before you eat, right?” Chiaki hardly manages
to get the words out, as worked up as he is. It’s definitely from being
observed, and because it’s Kanata, and because it’s been a while, because just
this much is usually not enough to make him so tense and shivery. Now,
though…the weight of Kanata’s eyes bore into him, and he gulps, biting his lip
as he works two fingers into himself, spreading slick oil where it’ll be needed
most. He licks his lip, looking up at Kanata, all shyness consumed by the
hunger aching through him. “That’s…probably enough waiting, for me. How about
you?”
 
“Yep, Chiaki’s gotta be dinner now.”
 
Kanata moves fast when he wants, flipping Chiaki in short order, pressing him
down into the bed with a hand between his shoulderblades. “Chiaki…looks so good
like that,” he breathes, pressing a wet, sucking kiss to the back of his neck,
nuzzling up into his hair. His cock, hard and eager, slides up against the
cleft of Chiaki’s ass, the flushed head of it catching against his hole, and
it’s slick enough that even a small arch of his hips makes it easy to sink
inside. “Mine…you’re miiiine…”
 
His own fingers notwithstanding, it’s been a while since something has pressed
into Chiaki like this, thick and solid and so hot—but maybe that’s his own
body, reacting to the sweet, precious feeling of Kanata rocking up where he
belongs, sliding home after so long apart. He sucks in a breath, trying to form
coherent thoughts when his entire existence feels narrowed to all the places
they’re touching. He shifts, teeth set against the worn cotton of his
pillowcase, biting down when Kanata slides in hard in an attempt to muffle his
groan. Setting his knees farther apart helps. It gives him more leverage, lets
him rock back onto Kanata, forearms braced against the bed. It may have been
years, but it feels familiar, enough that the thick stretch of Kanata into him
doesn’t hurt nearly so much as it feels like something that should be.
“Every…part of me,” he agrees, and bites down on the pillow in a failed attempt
to keep his voice down.
 
This part of being human Kanata remembers, knows well, and relishes.
 
Kanata’s hips grind forward until they slap against skin, and he pants out, wet
and breathy, into Chiaki’s hair. His fingers curl into the sheets next to
Chiaki’s head, doing all that he can not to actually claw into Chiaki’s
flesh—though it would be so easy, so, so easy when they’re like this—
 
“Chiakii…don’t keep your voice down…” The heat of Chiaki’s body around him is
maddening, and Kanata thrusts in hard, deep, covering Chiaki’s body with his
own as his mouth finds his neck again. Maybe he bites and sucks a little too
roughly, but he can’t help it when it’s been so long.
 
Chiaki’s thighs are tense, his back bowed tight as a bowstring, and it’s all he
can do to keep from losing himself the second Kanata slides in deep. He twists,
getting a hand under himself to grab his own cock—not to stroke, but to squeeze
at the base, to keep it from being over too quickly. “You—want me to be so
shameless,” he groans, thumb meeting fingers around the base of his cock,
thighs trembling at the slick press of Kanata inside of him. “M-my men…”
 
“Don’t care about them,” Kanata pants into his ear, scooting his knees up
closer for more leverage as he grinds deep inside. He barely pulls out with
each thrust, savoring how it feels to be so deeply buried in that tight, slick
heat, and he finally can’t stop himself from needing to touch Chiaki, too. His
fingers rake through Chiaki’s hair before fisting into it, tugging his head
back as he thrusts in. “They can be jealous…about how good Chiaki feels,
right~?”
 
The shift in Kanata’s weight makes Chiaki brace against the bed, both hands
digging into the thin bedding. It’s almost impossible to keep his voice down
when Kanata is in him so far he swears he can feel the other man’s pulse inside
of him, but he tries, the thought of some of his Lieutenants overhearing him
enough to keep his mouth shut. “When we’re traveling,” he promises, voice rough
and thick with pleasure, eyes squeezed shut as he rocks back with every thrust,
“we can do this—under the stars—and I’ll be as loud as you want, I—ah!”
 
Kanata rocks in just right, and Chiaki doesn’t have time to stifle his cry
before he’s spilling onto the bed, clenching and shivering around the sweet
thickness buried deep in him.
 
Kanata lunges, his teeth clamping down into the curve of Chiaki’s shoulder,
biting down hard enough that he tastes blood, warm and brilliantly sharp on his
tongue. The taste alone makes him shudder, and his next few thrusts aren’t
gentle when he grinds in hard, thrusting into Chiaki’s shivering body, grabbing
at him with long fingers to hold him close.
 
Coming in Chiaki takes his breath away. It feels like his very pulse pours into
Chiaki’s body with every drip—but more than anything, it’s like a recharge, the
shivery little threads of magic inside of him swelling to the brim again.
“Chiaki…is so…soooo good,” Kanata finally sighs, slumping against him, nuzzling
up into Chiaki’s hair even with blood still staining his lips. “Nnnn…Chiaki
makes me feel…whole again…”
 
Something ephemeral tugs at Chiaki, filling little holes, feeling as if a warm
blanket has been tossed over his soul. It’s a feeling so familiar, but he’s
never been able to give it a name before. That had been before he’d missed it
so much, and feeling it again—how had he lived without? The pain in his
shoulder is nothing; if anything, it feels like just another way for Kanata’s
entire being to filter into him, patching all the places he’d been crumbling.
The pillow under Chiaki is damp with sweat, saliva, and tears when he nuzzles
back, even as he starts to twitch and squeeze around Kanata’s spent cock. “As
good as you remembered?” he asks softly, eyes shining in the dim light.
 
“Even better.” Kanata slowly twists, pulling Chiaki back with him as he lets
his cock slip out. He spoons up against him, licking and nuzzling at where he
bit, the teeth marks left behind looking far more like some kind of vicious sea
creature took a bite far more than a human. “Later, a message to Rei,” he
murmurs. “Now, sleep.”
 
Chiaki lets him drift off, waiting until their heartbeats are in sync, Kanata’s
breathing easy and slow. Then he carefully extricates himself from the tangle
of limbs, slipping out of the bed to dress, straightening his uniform in his
small, cloudy mirror. The high collar covers any incriminating marks on his
neck, and he strikes one pose, designed to inspire awe and terror from the
workers of evil, before nodding to himself and heading out for the day.
 
The messenger he chooses is a small man, but brimming with energetic power, the
yellow insignia of a Corporal shining freshly-polished on his breast. He writes
out a quick missive, and folds it into an envelope, handing it over to the
Corporal with strict instructions to Find the wizard named Rei, give this into
him, sacrifice your life if you must, but if you do, I will cry!
 
Rei:
 
Hi, my friend! This is Chiaki Morisawa. I hope you remember me. Our mutual blue
friend has emerged. Things are bad! We’ll be heading to the places where things
are bad.
 
“Don’t show it to anyone but him,” he instructs firmly. “This is suuuuper top
secret!”
 
“Yes, sir!” Shinobu quivers in his boots, the enormity of the responsibility
making him eager, terrified, and excited all at once. “You can count on me!”
 
With that, and a tatatatatatata sound of running, he’s gone, disappearing to
emerge on the road a moment later, darting from tree to tree, taking cover from
supposed enemy fire (or possibly bright sunshine).
***** Chapter 35 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Izumi doesn’t want to make a stop in High Harbor, but needs must.
 
“I said I’d return this damn net, so,” he says with a shrug, outright avoiding
saying who the net belongs to. Maybe if he doesn’t invoke that name, he won’t
feel so…off every single time he does.
 
The Academy research outpost in High Harbor is bolstered against any and all
manner of sea storms, and the magic radiating off of the high, limestone walls
makes his horrific mare snort and squeal, uninterested in even remotely
approaching. The closer he gets, the worst Izumi feels, admittedly; his horse
is onto something, even if she’s only complaining about magic that he can’t
feel. “Arashi,” he quietly says as he dismounts, tying his mare to the post
outside. “Stop me if I get stupid.”
 
For his part, Arashi feels nothing but cheerful, though that cheer is
overshadowed by the usual tinge of worry for Mika, all alone (with Shu) down in
the Sandlands. It’s easy to tell what Izumi means, even if he’s carefully
avoiding saying it. “I’ll just take it in for you,” he suggests. “Ahh, do you
think Mika would like one of those little shells? He—oi, watch your hellbeast!
She almost took a chunk out of my princess!”
 
“She’s flirting,” Izumi deadpans, hefting the bag enclosing the net over his
shoulder. “You can’t go in without me, I’m the one with approved access. And
no, Mika wouldn’t like one of those little shells, unless something was still
living and slimy inside of it. You know how he is.”
 
“…Yeah,” Arashi allows with a sigh. “That’s why we’ve got this, after all.” He
shoots a dirty look towards The Crate, on a low wheeled platform being towed by
his horse. “You sure you can’t get me in as well? I won’t be much good to stop
you if I’m not there.”
 
“Stop sulking about that thing, I told you it wasn’t my idea,” Izumi wearily
says. “You can come in with me, just not without me. If you have to hit me,
just not my face, all right? I can’t believe I have to remind you, but you
always seem to go straight for it.”
 
He turns away for the stairs, and that terrible, unsettled feeling increases
with every step that he takes. The enormous, wooden doors thrum with enough
protective energy that even he can feel it, and he hesitates, reaching out to
touch the door handle with gloved fingers.
 
The energy dims, dulls, and the lock turns without his encouragement.
“Sometimes, magic is still so much,” he mutters, pushing the door open and
nodding for Arashi to follow. “Why was that necessary? Just give me a key and
only me a key, you know? Yuukun, you around?”
 
“Uaaah!”
 
The voice comes out terribly startled, and there’s an accompanying crash, as of
a chair tipping over. Arashi raises his eyebrows, and in the next moment, a
flustered Makoto makes his way out to see them, ducking his head. At the sight
of Arashi, he relaxes. “A-ah, Sir Izumi, you brought a friend, eh? That’s
nice…” His eyes dart around the room, fingers twitching as if attempting to
grab at something long since snatched away.
 
Arashi doesn’t let out a whistle, but it’s a close thing. This is a very
different Makoto from the young wizard he remembers. His eyes are shadowed, and
he’s an anxious, twitchy thing.
 
Here comes the part Izumi hates more than anything.
 
It’s the moment when dread turns to something hopeful. Maybe, maybe he can make
Makoto feel better just by being here—that’s the point, isn’t it? Maybe if he’s
as affectionate and doting as he should have always been, maybe—“Yuukun—you
look stressed, aren’t you taking care of yourself?” he scolds, sweeping closer.
“Have you been following that plan I left with you last time? Ugh, judging by
how your skin looks, I doubt it.”
 
“Izumi,” Arashi warns, grabbing the back of his shirt to hold him back. “Don’t
come on too strong, you know how you get.”
 
Makoto jerks back, eyes wide. “Ah, I have been, it’s—it’s been hard, the last
week or so, I might have missed a couple treatments…I guess? Aha, I haven’t
been sleeping too much, I guess…”
 
Izumi growls, jerking against Arashi’s hold. Every logical line of thought in
his mind says stop it, stop it, you’re going to scare him!, but logic isn’t
exactly the driving force behind his actions. “Why haven’t you been sleeping?”
he demands, tossing the net onto the ground, his sole purpose of being here
decidedly forgotten. “Has someone been bothering you? Yuukun, you know you can
tell me anything, right?”
 
“There’s—don’t you feel it?” Makoto’s eyes dart around, and one of his hands
moves to his opposite elbow, scratching idly. Other scratches are obvious
there, along with a few healing scabs. “Something’s in the air. Something big,
scary…ah, sorry, it’s a magic thing, I shouldn’t bother you with something like
this.”
 
With strength that really defies logic, Izumi yanks himself out of Arashi’s
hold, needing to have his hands on Makoto. “Whatever it is, I will protect
you,” he firmly says, grabbing Makoto by the shoulders to force him to look at
him. “Even if it’s magic—you can leave, you know? I’ll take you somewhere safe,
you won’t have to feel it, you don’t have to even think about it—“
 
“I will literally throw you out his window,” Arashi growls, looping an arm
around Izumi’s neck and getting him into a firm hold that not even a real snake
could escape from. “Sorry, Excellency. I’m trying to keep him under control.”
 
“A-ah, it’s fine, I’m sorry to be a burden, Lord Arashi,” Makoto says hastily.
“It’s…this is my duty, to be here and be researching. I won’t leave just
because of a few bad dreams.”
 
“Let me go!” Izumi hisses, clawing at Arashi’s arm in his haste to be touching
Makoto again. If he’s touching him, it almost feels like there’s something
there still, almost. “You don’t understand, look at him, he needs me—“
 
“Ahh…this is where that’s coming from…”
 
Rather than turn as it had with Izumi’s ‘approved’ touch, the lock on the door
simply falls off, clattering to the ground. “Oops,” Kanata’s soft, breathy
voice offers as he sidles inside, his head of still untamed, sea-crimped hair
making a statement before he himself enters, tall and willowy and draped in
muslin that isn’t too confining, plus an enormous, black cloak. “Rei can fix
that…later. There’s looooots of loose magic here…”
 
Makoto breaks into a sweat, and brings his hands up in front of his body,
stepping swiftly in front of Izumi. His wrists cross in front of his body, and
he forms two fists, startled into defensive magic, a shield shimmering into
life in front of them. “G-go,” he whispers, eyes showing white all the way
around, though his stance is steady. What the stranger is exactly, he has no
idea, though a deep quake in his bones warns him that this is one of the Old
Ones, a creature so powerful that even its diluted bloodline is enough to wreak
havoc on the world. “I can’t hold him for long, but—maybe if you’re fast—“
 
Kanata blinks a few times, his head tilting. “Ahh…you’ve misunderstood. I’m not
here…to eat you,” he cheerfully says. “Just some of the bad magic, maybe…my
name is Kanata…you’re…a Dawncloak, aren’t you?” He reaches out, plucking out
strands of magic that obviously only he can see in the air, and unravels
Makoto’s shield without as much of a bang. It dissolves, literally, to a
puddle. He reaches past it, patting Makoto’s head with a moist hand. “There,
there, that’s a good boy, don’t be scared.”
 
“…Kanata?” Izumi echoes, staring at the other man with disbelief. He stops
trying to claw his way out of Arashi’s hold in favor of really, really looking,
and—“But you’re…not a fish.”
 
“Mmhm, not a fish, not right now…it’s just meee…but human-y…I’m glad you’re
well now, Not-angel-not-ogre-kinda-human,” Kanata greets Arashi with a smile,
still petting Makoto’s hair. “The last time I saw you…your insides were on the
outside.”
 
Arashi stares at the stranger for a long moment, and then realization dawns.
“Ahhh—you’re the the fish-man! You saved my life!”
 
Makoto holds perfectly still, the way he hears helps when there’s a giant
predator around. If what the man says is true, he’s not exactly one of the Old
Ones—but he’s a Nightcloak, which is easily as terrifying. “P-pleased to m-meet
you, yes, ah, I’m a D-Dawncloak, sir—um, Excellency—“
 
“Kanata,” Kanata correct dreamily, petting Makoto’s hair still. He pauses, then
looks between Izumi and Makoto before frowning. “That’s definitely what it is,”
he says, and he reaches out with one clawed hand, seemingly at nothing.
 
Suddenly, it feels like those claws are raking down his spine. Izumi gasps,
feeling as if the air is knocked out of him when whatever Kanata is pulling on
flutters into his vision when that doesn’t seem to make sense. Tattered, frayed
pieces of gold, like the end of a coiled cord, cut poorly and unsealed and
fraying with every single touch, all of it shimmers before his eyes before
Kanata spins it all into a ball, no matter how it seems to both tug on himself
and Makoto from either end.
 
…before he pops it right into his mouth, chomping into it with teeth that Izumi
swears look strangely long and sharp and terrifyingly like some creature from
the deepest ends of the ocean for a moment.
 
Just as quickly as it came, that uncomfortable touch is gone, and with
it—silence. Odd, simple silence, something that Izumi can’t remember having for
years. He blinks, sagging where Arashi holds him, blinks again, and then looks
over to Makoto. That strange, agonizing pull, that ache that he can’t quite put
a finger to—it’s gone, and that’s both confusing and…such a relief that it
brings tears sharply to his eyes.
 
“Better?” Kanata asks, patting the sides of Makoto’s face. “You can’t be a
strong wizard like that…that was nooo good.”
 
Makoto’s eyes are glazed entirely over, the cessation of empty pain so abrupt
that it’s almost an opiate. He staggers, staring up at Kanata with a wide,
wondering expression that steals his breath in deep, shuddering gasps. “I…what
did…”
 
His head turns slowly, and he takes in Izumi’s sagging profile. He blinks, and
a rush of memory slams into him, as if it’s been blocked or walled off for
years. “Izumi,” he whispers, and the word doesn’t just mean the strange and
confusing man he’s recently met, but his childhood friend, his old protector,
the man who had been his first, the brave knight he’d somehow saved from death.
“W-what’s happening?”
 
Izumi’s head jerks up, and he squeezes Arashi’s arm, very firmly. “Let me go,”
he quietly orders.
 
Magic, after all this time, still startles Arashi. He lets go, creeped out
enough by the Nightcloak’s assessment of him to do as he’s told. “You knew?
Even then?” he asks quietly. “Or did you learn after? No one else…has been able
to tell.”
 
Izumi stumbles over, grabbing Makoto by the shoulders with trembling hands
before simply crushing him to his chest. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
 
Kanata drifts away after patting Makoto’s head a last time, smiling as he
shrugs. “You tasted…like Shu’s friend,” he says. “And like the Tyrant. So I
guessed. I know that I’m right, though…if you really want me to check, I can
take another bite?”
 
Arashi starts to answer in the negative, but can’t really trust that he’ll be
heard over the sudden wail that makes its way out of Makoto’s throat as he
hurls himself at Izumi’s chest, no matter that he’s the taller of them, no
matter that he’s far too old to take comfort in the simple embrace of another
person. “I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to forget you—or be so rude, or—or any of
it, I’m sorry, I’m s-s-sorry!”
 
“I know, I know, I’m not mad at you—geez, don’t cry on me, this shirt’s
expensive and I’m a broke knight, you know?” Izumi squeezes Makoto tight all
the same, his hands shaking but soothing as they stroke down his back. It’s
such a relief to be able to touch him without feeling like he simultaneously
wants to die and like he wants to crawl inside Makoto in the most disgusting of
ways, as if somehow that would help him. “It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers
into Makoto’s hair. “Seriously—don’t cry, Yuukun, you’ll make me cry and that’s
gross.”
 
Makoto shudders, in a way that feels far deeper than the physical reaction, and
manages to wipe his eyes on the back of his arm instead. “Sorry. Sorry. I—ugh,
I’d rather drown than ever have a bond again, I can’t believe I used to want
one when I was a kid.”
 
“Please don’t ever say the word ‘bond’ around me ever again,” Izumi mutters,
yanking Makoto close again and more or less refusing to let him go. “Bear with
it, I need to hold you for a little while.”
 
“Heh, that’s fine.” Makoto’s voice is wet, and he warns, “I might mess up your
shirt, though. I’ve missed this. And didn’t even—how did I not know I missed
you?”
 
“Fuck it, I’ll get another shirt,” Izumi sniffs, his voice wavering when
reminded again that Makoto had forgotten him. It’s not like he’s ever had a lot
of friends, so losing one of the few that he’s got had been the worst thing out
of all of it. “Sit over here with me, I need a minute,” he mutters, dragging
Makoto over to the nearest sitting room, unbuckling his sword to lean it
against the chair he pulls Makoto down into.
 
“Mm…little Dawncloak, while you recharge…you’ve felt it, too, haven’t you?”
Kanata idly pipes up, drifting over to one of the windows to pull the curtains
apart for a better view of the ocean. “There’s so much unrest…ahh, I hope Rei
arrives soon…”
 
“I—I thought it was to do with you, when you showed up,” Makoto admits, feeling
far more at peace when he’s with Izumi, like this after so long. “It didn’t get
any stronger when you came in, though, so…it’s definitely something…”
 
Too late, he glances around, then closes his mouth. “Sorry, Excellency. I know
I’m only a Dawncloak, but I know enough to know what I can’t say around folk
who didn’t take oaths to the Academy. Um, please don’t report me.”
 
“Rei says the Kingsguard is safe now.” Kanata shrugs carelessly, hopping up
onto the windowsill, willowy legs slowly kicking. “Actually…you two…might be
able to help me. The human trade…that’s threatening my people, too, and that’s
what is stirring up all that…bad magic…if you have any news…”
 
“We’re actually heading South to deal with that very thing,” Izumi says, his
voice muffled from where it’s stuffed into Makoto’s hair. “There’s plenty of
news, none of it good.”
 
Arashi looks at the two of them for a moment, then grabs a chair, sitting
primly with one leg crossed over the other. “What kind of news do they have
about the slave trade in the ocean? We’re trying to infiltrate that kind of
thing right now, you know, and there’s not that much to find. It’s really
annoying…if you know anything, I bet people will want to hear it, no matter
where it comes from. What kind of bad magic? Ahhh, if my Mika is getting
involved in that kind of thing, I’ll never stop worrying…”
 
“The traders…have been creating pathways for their trade, more and more,”
Kanata softly supplies. His cloak slowly starts slinking off of one shoulder,
and he doesn’t bother to fix it. “From the Hinterlands, from the Isles…from the
Shadowlands. Demons come from it…and they’re hungry…they can’t help it, but…if
we can’t close those paths, it could get worse. Darker things, scarier things,
coming through…my people are touched by it first, being so deep under the
water…”
 
“Ritsu mentioned something like that, awhile ago,” Izumi says, propping his
chin atop Makoto’s head as he slowly strokes a hand down his back. “Even L—His
Majesty did. That makes me wonder if we shouldn’t be heading to the Hinterlands
instead—don’t give me that look, Arashi, if it means we can fix this faster—“
 
“No…you’re both useless there,” Kanata says with a shake of his head. “I want
to hear from Rei…but…South might be the start of it? I don’t know, I’ve been
under the waves for so long…”
 
Arashi frowns, and thinks about something, eyes unfocused, flicking to
somewhere outside the window. “Ah, may I ask, are you familiar with the
situation enough to answer a couple of questions? I have a theory that just
occurred to me, but I’m not sure…can you clear up some tactical issues? I have
no intention of making war on your people, you have my word.”
 
“I’ll eat you if you try,” Kanata cheerfully says. “So we can talk about it…Rei
has kept in touch, so I know enough, I think…”
 
“Great.” Arashi steeples his fingers, thinking as fast as he can, the part of
his mind reserved for tactics and strategy racing into action. It’s the
swiftest part of his mind by far, next to the part reserved for memorizing
songs and stories. “This might be common knowledge to people familiar with the
Arcane, but…powerful creatures, demons, whatever—they have ways of getting
around that humans can’t see, right? If they can be summoned in certain places,
it stands to reason that they have ways of traveling other than, like, over
land roads. Can they travel from place to place in our world without going over
land, and if so, are they actually, like, paths? Like, through the sky or the
spirit world or something, that a certain amount of creatures can travel on at
a certain time? Sorry if that’s kind of complicated, but it’s important.”
 
“Depending on the creature, the actual land might matter…or it might not. When
I say that demons are coming in…the ones that can come in now…travel on human-
made pathways. They have to pass through the barriers of the Shadowlands,
but…those are just the weak ones, that can be limited.” Kanata’s nails slowly
click against the windowsill he sits upon. “But the more the mines in the
Hinterlands are drilled…and the more the unwilling are used in the Sandlands
for their parts…that disturbs other creatures, down below. Those are the ones
that can travel through summoning…and through the sky, or skim the sea…” He
glances up, holding Arashi’s gaze. “Those are the ones like Rei, or Wataru, or
like how Eichi was. Strong, and pass as humans so easily sometimes that you
wouldn’t even know.”
 
Arashi nods slowly. It confirms some of what he’d suspected, and some of what
he’d only imagined. “Okay. Now that that’s established. These pathways, if they
get properly established—is that something that the Inglings can use to call
their monsters?”
 
“Oh…like in the stories? Definitely…they might even work together. It’s bad.”
 
Arashi drags his hands down his face. “Right. That was the piece I was missing.
Damn, it makes everything make sense, but in the worst of ways. I’ll have to
talk to Rei about this. Izumi, I think…I think you’ll have to go to the
Sandlands without me, at least for a few days.”
 
You’re kidding me is on the tip of Izumi’s tongue, but he shoves that down,
even as he straightens up where he sits, curled up. “Or,” he says, “we can wait
to see how quickly Rei actually responds to Kanata’s message, and I can be
informed as well. I wanted to touch base with him, too, you know.”
 
Arashi shrugs. “Fair enough, I just…” He gnaws on his lip, thinking. “If he
doesn’t respond fast, we’ll be more use down South, but if he does…damn. We
don’t even have a fast way to talk to him, since Shu walled off their
connection.”
 
Izumi hesitates at that. “I might have a few things Ritsu gave me, way back
when, that we can use if we really need to get in touch. I’m only mentioning
them now because if Rei’s in the Shadowlands, or anywhere close to it, they’ll
work all the way there,” he hastily adds before Arashi can scold him. “They’re
technically to contact my spies, but—needs must?”
 
“Ooh…you’re that close to Ritsu…? That’s why…the scary horse.” Kanata nods
slowly. “Of course, of course, snakes…”
 
“…Whatever that means, sure,” Izumi says, unwilling to be too annoyed with
Kanata after him fixing something so terrible, and, well—knowing how scary he
can get after past run-ins, it’s worrisome to think about talking back.
“Honestly, Arashi? You’re not going to be any good up in the Hinterlands if
it’s the Shadowlands bleeding over and causing shit. You couldn’t even walk
into the Shadowlands without something trying to eat you.”
 
Arashi huffs, folding his arms over his chest. “You don’t need to protect me
from stuff like that. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself, you know,
I’ve been doing it for a lot longer than I’ve known you.”
 
“It’s not just one place,” Makoto says softly. “It’s—those dark pockets are
popping up in a few different places. Even if Lord Arashi is resistant to magic
and scary-strong, those things could be anywhere.”
 
“Eh? Who’s scary strong? I’m cute strong!”
 
“Little Dawncloak is right,” Kanata says, nodding slowly. “Also…you might be
resistant to magic and strong, but…you remember what Eichi did to you, don’t
you?”
 
“Vividly.” A chill runs through Arashi at the mention of it, and then he
pauses, another thought occurring to him. “Ah, not to put an imposition on you,
but that thing you just did, to the two of them? Could you…could you do it, if
half of the pair was dead?”
 
“Arashi,” Izumi lowly warns.
 
Kanata’s head tilts to the side, and the rest of his body lists a bit to
follow. “Maybe. It depends. This mess…was easy, and tasty to clean up. It
wasn’t very strong to begin with.”
 
“I didn’t even know I had it before it was gone,” Makoto confirms, though that
feels almost like a mean thing to say, for some reason.
 
Arashi shoots Izumi a look, then shrugs one shoulder. “Worth a shot, isn’t it?
You can’t pretend you don’t see…well, you know.”
 
“It’s still not your place to even bring it up,” Izumi defensively retorts,
petting Makoto’s hair aggressively, as if it’s some kind of stress relief.
“He’s your king, don’t speak poorly of him.”
 
Kanata pauses, listing to the other side. “This is about Eichi’s…? Ah…I’d have
to see it…but, maybe…”
 
Arashi holds up his hands. “I guess I don’t get to comment about it. Just…I
don’t know, if it really tasted that great, I’m sure you’ll keep an eye out.
Anyway, can you tell me for sure whether the legends about the Inglings are
true? If there’s something I can do to prepare my people, I want to try.”
 
“I’ve just heard the stories,” Kanata cheerfully says, shrugging slowly. “Ask
Rei…or Wataru…they’d know, they’re oooooold, hehe…”
 
“And you aren’t?” Izumi deadpans.
 
“I’m…” Kanata pauses, unnecessarily. “Twenty-five.”
 
“What? Holy shit, I feel like scary wizards keep getting younger,” Izumi
mutters, giving Makoto a little shake. “Oi. I’m glad you’re not scarier, that
would be weird.”
 
“Don’t lump me in with them,” Makoto whispers, carefully not meeting Kanata’s
eyes. Ally he may be, but he’s terrifying. “I’m human, they’re…so powerful,
they’re a lot more than human.”
 
Izumi glances up, watching Kanata for a moment. Rei, half-blood he might be,
has never seemed quite as inhuman as this wizard. He’d known it before, when
Kanata still resembled creature more than human, but seeing him like this is
almost…uncanny valley. He shifts, grumbling, “Said as if I’m not the same.
Don’t be rude.”
 
Kanata flips a latch on the window, casually destroying another magical seal
upon it to do so, and opens the window to the sounds and breeze of the sea. “It
even smells like magic,” he says with a long sigh. “Maybe…that means Rei…ah…and
someone else? Who knows~…”
 
A bell starts to ring, and Makoto perks up, looking out the window. “That means
the Commander’s back in the city,” he murmurs, though he doesn’t move from
Izumi’s lap. “He must have ridden out to meet the guests. Ahhh, I was supposed
to have my research done by tonight, I might get in trouble…”
 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.” Izumi gives him another firm squeeze, not
releasing him. “If Morisawa’s back around, I should meet with him.”
 
“We can go,” Kanata happily says, hopping down from the windowsill. “He’s
mine.”
 
Makoto’s head tilts. “He’s…yours? Your friend?”
 
Arashi hides a smirk behind his hand, then clears his throat. “I’ve got some
plans to run by Rei, mind if I come along?”
 
“He’s mine,” Kanata repeats without hesitation, half-heartedly straightening
his cloak, which upon second glance, seems to glitter like scales when the sun
reflects off of it.
 
Izumi doesn’t comment, and forces himself to slowly rise, straightening
Makoto’s clothes out of habit. “Get some sleep, to hell with your deadlines,”
he mutters. “You look terrible. It can wait another day. All right?” It’s so
good to be able to actually talk to you again, I didn’t know I’d missed this so
much.
 
Makoto gives him a rare, open smile. “I’ll do my best,” he promises. “With you
looking after me, of course it’s going to be good, hmm?” It’s easy to bask in
that praise, that concern, now that it makes sense again.
 
“That’s the idea.” Izumi steps back with a deep breath and buckles his sword
back into place. “Right. Back to work, then. Thanks for letting me borrow that
net, Yuukun. It, uh. Was useful, for better or for worse.”
 
“I’m horrified at that,” Makoto says with a grin. “Do me a favor and don’t tell
me what you used it for.”
 
Arashi snorts. “You’ll definitely hear about it someday, whether you want to or
not. C’mon, Izumi, leave the boy, you can always bother him later. Where would
the Commander and his guests be, I wonder…?”
 
“Did they finish rebuilding that old estate of Rei’s yet?” Izumi asks, scowling
over Arashi’s nagging, but forcibly turning away all the same. “Didn’t he say
it was owned by some other family that used to rule over this place? Hell if I
remember, I was a mess the last time we were all here.”
 
“Mm? Oh…that place…by the sea? Yes, it’s there.” Kanata meanders his way to the
door, cape and sleeves fluttering. “Rei will probably stay there…it’s
very…very…very…warded.”
 
“Sure. Then let’s—“
 
And Kanata is gone, just like that, disappearing around the side of the outpost
wall to dive straight into the sea. Izumi stares, then shrugs, shaking it off.
“Fucking wizards,” he mutters as he walks outside, pleased to see his horse
hasn’t eaten Neigh yet. “They’re all so weird.”
 
“…I was going to tell you not to lump my beloved in with them, but honestly,
yeah,” Arashi admits with a sigh. “Why are they all like that? And, you know
what, I’m going to count you in that too, you’re magic enough to count. Mark my
words, you’re going to be like Ritsu, half creature half magic, someday.”
 
“No way, I’m way more human than creature,” Izumi protests, untying his mare’s
reins. “Besides, Ritsu’s a wizard and I’m not, he’s automatically worse off.”
 
He hauls himself up into the saddle, and breathes out a long, ragged breath.
It’s strange, to finally be without a weight that’s been set upon him for years
now, and he shuts his eyes, leaning his head back. “I didn’t think it was
possible to feel this good again,” he groans. “Gods. Sorry for snapping at you
in there, but…His Majesty’s kind of a special case. I don’t want Kanata
chomping on him unless it’s actually safe.”
 
“I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t just watch him do it to my best
friend with good results,” Arashi grumbles, ruffling Izumi’s hair aggressively.
“You look like a drowning man who’s just come up for air, both of you. Why
wouldn’t I want that for the king I love?”
 
“Because it…seems so much more than superficial with him.”
 
Izumi shivers just thinking about it, and swats Arashi’s hand away
distractedly. “I didn’t even know Kanata could do things like that, but the
hell do I know? Wizards are so much sometimes. Whatever, let’s go greet the
worst one of them all.”
 
Arashi bites down the argument that yours wasn’t superficial either, I saw how
messed up you were!Because that isn’t exactly constructive. He strides along at
Izumi’s side, keeping up easily and forcing him to go a bit faster. “I don’t
remember this place at all, I was almost dead at the time,” he says cheerfully.
“So you’ll have to show me the way. Heh, isn’t it weird that guy’s seen my
guts? I hope they weren’t too ugly…”
 
“I’ve seen your guts, too, and I helped put them back in,” Izumi deadpans,
yanking his horse’s head around so that she doesn’t try to take another chunk
out of Neigh. “I know my way around here pretty decently. I’ve had to meet up
with Morisawa a lot in the past few months; High Harbor’s guard works closely
with the Kingsguard in keeping riff-raff out of the capital.”
 
“What, really?” Arashi blinks, looking around. “I missed that somehow. Ah, but
I’ve been so busy in the Sharps…luckyyyy, getting to stare at the Commander all
the time. Heh, remember that bet we made, the day you met him?”
 
“You don’t pay attention to anything unless it involves Mika, or war,” Izumi
says with a roll of his eyes. “And nope, I don’t recall, I don’t make bets with
snakes like you.”
 
“Really? Seriously? You’re calling me a snake? And we’re not going to talk
about the irony of that?”
 
“Nope, I know what I’m talking about. I’m pretty firm on this. At least you
sound sexy when you talk about war instead of just looking that way.”
 
“Heh, you liked that?” Arashi nudges Izumi with his shoulder. “Don’t remind me,
you just like scholarly types. Should I get a pair of spectacles? I used to
wear them when I was younger, you know.”
 
Izumi looks back at him smugly. “I know. Mika told me you still wear them when
you two are alone and you’re trying to pour over your ledgers. Why won’t you
wear them around me, huh?”
 
Arashi scowls at him. “Because you’re weird about it! And you’re mean about me
doing my ledgers, you always make me feel like a bumbling idiot!”
 
“Because math is easy and you’re dumb about it. Maybe I’d be sweeter if you
were wearing glasses.”
 
“Because nothing is sexier than someone whose eyes don’t work? I don’t
understand this fetish, honestly.”
 
“It’s a look, idiot. I don’t know, don’t ask me, I don’t know why my dick does
the things it does.”
 
Avoiding the cobblestone paths into town, Izumi leads the way through the
backroads, around the barracks and straight to Rei’s manor. “Remember this
place now?” he wryly says, pulling his mare up short at the gate. “It actually
makes me anxious just looking at it. I keep expecting to need to heal someone,
right the fuck now.”
 
“Mm, I know what you mean,” Arashi agrees, fingers twitching slightly. “Maybe
it’s that dark magic he was talking about? I feel like I’m about to get
surprised from behind, I hate this feeling. Hey, you seriously don’t remember
the bet? Ha, you’re just saying that because you lost.”
 
“Lost what?” Izumi innocently deflects, nodding to the guardsman posted at the
gate when he’s let inside as an all-too familiar face.
 
It seems they’re arriving right at the same time as Chiaki and his entourage,
and Izumi dismounts his horse, handing her off to the stablehand that runs up.
It’s strange that it isn’t Hajime, but whatever. “Morisawa,” he greets, and
offers the smallest bows of his head to Rei. “Excellency.”
 
Rei brightens—well, for a given value of ‘brightening’ that the Demon King Rei
can offer in broad daylight. Draped in his heavy cloak with the hood drawn up,
that’s the only thing that would denote him as the Emperor of the Academy and
the King of Demons, considering that he looks ready for sleep underneath, his
shirt already half-undone. “Ah, another familiar face, how lovely—and our Lord
of the West, even. I heard Kanata was out and about as well? I see he’s already
taken a nibble on you.” He sounds oddly relieved about that, but before Izumi
can say a word, he gestures to his companion. “This is my friend, Kaoru,
and…well, you’ll meet Souma later, he likes to run my errands and I like that
about him.”
 
“Izumi! It’s good to see you, my friend!”
 
Arashi manages to escape a truly bone-crushing hug from Chiaki, then takes a
deep bow, first to Rei out of deference, then Chiaki a far shallower one, then
the visitor, truncating it to one that won’t seem ironic just in case the
newcomer is of much lower status than he is. “An honor as always, Excellency,”
he says, giving first address to the highest-ranked person in the room. And his
tutors had said he was hopeless for ever learning propriety, ha!
 
Kaoru looks around, raising a single blond eyebrow at the newcomers. “Rei, you
take a boy to the most interesting places. Yo, nice to meet you.” He sketches a
little salute, hardly a bow, though his smile is easy and friendly.
 
Izumi grunts underneath the force of the hug, and settles for clapping Chiaki
on the back instead of returning it. “Off, you overgrown dog,” he grumbles,
sparing a sideways glance at the little peek he gets of what looks to be a
particularly vicious hickey on the side of Chiaki’s neck. Good for you. “Kaoru
of any house, or…?”
 
“Just Kaoru,” Rei cheerfully offers for him.
 
“Sure, that sounds real. Nice to meet you, just Kaoru.” He doesn’t bow. “Sir
Izumi, Lord of the Sena house in the North, Captain of His Majesty’s
Kingsguard.”
 
“Ah. That’s what I smelled.”
 
From the water trough emerges Kanata—somehow, though Izumi can’t figure out if
he’s been there the whole time or this was some kind of elaborate magical
transportation—dripping wet, hair streaming into his face and his Nightcloak
making it look as if he has enormous, dark fins trailing behind him as he
rises. “Rei…when you bring things like that…it makes me hungrier.”
 
The entire demeanor of Just Kaoru, No House In Particular, shifts abruptly. He
goes still, looking at the new arrival, and Arashi watches his hand make the
slightest twitch—though not, he notes to himself, towards where the hilt of a
sword would be. To something that would be around his neck? Or a bracelet,
maybe? It’s an odd angle, one that makes him intensely curious.
 
The next second, the tension dissipates, and that easy smile is back. “You’re
pretty,” Kaoru says, with a rather charming wink. “Rei knows the loveliest
people, wow.”
 
“Ah, sorry, my turn for introductions!” Chiaki says hastily, hurrying to the
newcomer’s side. “This is Nightcloak Kanata, representative of the Depths, and
my most honored guest. Kanata, you know Rei, and this is Lord Arashi—I think
you’ve met, right—and Lord Izumi—I know you’ve met—and someone named Kaoru, who
I don’t know.”
 
“Be sweet, Kanata,” Rei gently chides, his hand sliding to the small of Kaoru’s
back. “He’s mine.”
 
“Stingy,” Kanata softly says, his eyes dilated to the point that the green of
his irises almost disappears entirely. “Let me take a bite. It’s only fair.”
 
“Not to put too fine a point on it, but time is of the essence, isn’t it?”
Izumi interrupts, content with being the rude one if it means less carnage and
more results. “Arashi and I need to discuss strategy with you, Excellency.”
 
“Not in the sunlight, thank you,” Rei says with a yawn, turning away to drift
further into the courtyard and into the manor proper. “I’ve traveled for some
time and it’s warm here, so I’m drowsy.”
 
Arashi frowns. “We’re talking about spirit attacks that could put an end to our
entire society, you know? Do you want some coffee or something?” He tries to
remember to keep a civil tone in his head, but honestly.
 
“And if we move too hastily, something of mine is at stake. I’m awake and
listening, but you’ll do well to let me acclimate myself to being in warm
weather again,” Rei grumpily says, collapsing down onto the nearest chaise the
moment he’s indoors. “Is everyone west of the capital rude?”
 
“Yes,” Izumi deadpans, trailing after him and not giving an inch. “We’re
discussing this, now, or we’re headed down South now to pull out ‘something of
yours’ and Mika from this mess. We’re actually going to do that either way, but
the when and how of it depends on a few answers.”
 
A sharp rap sounds at the door, and Chiaki starts to move, only to be beaten
there by one of his men, who hisses, “You’re the Commander, sir, it’s our job
to open doors.”
 
A moment later, the helmeted orange head of Captain Subaru enters, and makes a
beeline straight for Rei. “Hi, Emperor, I heard you were in town, I wanna talk
to you!”
 
“Ah,” Rei says wearily, listing to the side to plop his chin in one hand. “You,
too, I see. Go on, I’ll hear your grievances as well.”
 
“Wait in line, Akehoshi,” Izumi snaps, folding his arms across his chest. “Is
Isara going to show up out of nowhere next?”
 
“Unlikely, unless he’s doing his job very poorly,” Rei says, his eyes landing
upon Arashi first. “Go ahead, you first.”
 
Arashi looks around, then shrugs. If Rei wants to hear everything in a public
forum, then so be it. “With all due respect, Excellency, I want to give serious
consideration and budget to a mission into Ingling territory, in order to stave
off the utter destruction of our entire country.”
 
“Okay,” Subaru butts in, stepping in front of Arashi, “but where’s Hajime? He
was supposed to be back by now!”
 
“Sit down for five seconds, we’re going to get there,” Izumi hisses, hooking a
hand into the back of Subaru’s belt to haul him back.
 
“I’m assuming you mean a serious magical budget, or else you would be
discussing this with your king, and not me,” Rei says, plainly ignoring Subaru
for the moment. “I’m not unaware of your needs, but I am as of yet unsure of
what kind of manpower you’ll need. My Shadowlands reports have been slow in
returning to me.”
 
“I have no idea,” Arashi admits. “But from my research, I’d need at least two
Nightcloaks, trained in both subterfuge and, um, explosions.”
 
Subaru tries to stand again, but Izumi’s hand on his belt prevents him. “Let
go, when you hold me like that I can’t get up and talk!”
 
“That’s the idea, you dense fuck.”
 
“So you want my consort and Mika back underneath your command,” Rei says,
talking over Subaru’s flailing. “Or perhaps Natsume. You’re asking for quite a
bit, especially from them. You know that, don’t you?”
 
Arashi doesn’t give an inch, meeting Rei’s gaze with his own, calm but fierce.
“You’re the wizard. You tell me what I’ll need to save the country. And if you
think your consort and my—and his apprentice were mismanaged under my command
before, I’ll be happy to discuss that issue with you at any length.”
 
“There’s a time and a place for that discussion, but it isn’t here,” Rei softly
says, unblinking underneath Arashi’s stare. “Though for what it’s worth, I
don’t fault your command, merely the situations themselves. For this, though,
I’ll send Wataru and Natsume out with you instead, if they can return in a
timely manner—and if they don’t, I’ll go myself. Shu and Mika are already being
used to their limit in the South, and I’d rather not have them immediately back
on the field when they return. Is that satisfactory?”
 
Arashi lets out a sigh, and the tense line of his jaw softens. “Better than
what I was asking for, actually. Thank you, Excellency. Before they return I’ll
have my scholars research as much as they possibly can—with the help of His
Excellency Kanata, if he’s available?”
 
“I’m available…for nooow…” Kanata hums, suddenly popping up and draping over
the back of Rei’s chaise, still dripping wet.
 
“Kanata is a good source of information,” Rei agrees, politely pushing Kanata’s
dripping hair off of his own face when it manages to fall there. “But I’ll make
sure to connect you to Ritsu as well. He’s been monitoring the situation in the
Shadowlands, which is where both of your issues are beginning directly.”
 
“Great. Good. Okay, I’m done and happy, someone else can talk to His
Excellency,” Arashi says hastily, bowing out before everyone can keep staring
at him. He’s been traveling, after all, and there hasn’t been time to do his
hair properly.
 
“I’ll go next!” Subaru declares, struggling once again against Izumi’s hold.
Chiaki grabs the other side of his belt, then immediately lets go as soon as
there’s another knock on the door, hurrying to open it.
 
“Commander, please, you’re going to look like I don’t know how to do my job,”
the young man on the door hisses, before opening it to reveal a well-dressed
young man with long hair tied back, bearing a tray of refreshments.
 
“Milord Rei,” he says, pleased with himself as he hurries to Rei’s side. “I
brought refreshments, as a proper Bhenda should.”
 
To Rei’s left, Kaoru lets out a very quiet snort.
 
“Good boy, bring them over here,” Rei gratefully sighs, listing to the side and
barely propping himself up against the arm of his chaise. “Introduce yourself
to this room of fine lords and soldiers, would you?”
 
Izumi gets bored of holding Subaru back now that Arashi has said his bit, and
releases his belt too-abruptly to watch the other man tumble forward onto the
floor. “Stay there next time,” Izumi mutters, folding his arms again,
unimpressed. His eyes follow Souma, his stare skeptical. “Someone’s been
collecting.”
 
“No one asked you, Captain,” Rei sweetly says, the deliberate use of one of
Izumi’s lesser titles not going unnoticed. “Bhenda have a lovely purpose, and
are quite nice to feed upon…no, Kanata, not right now.”
 
Souma turns at Rei’s instruction, bowing low to the group, though in a slightly
different style, one leg curled behind the other. “It is an honor to be
presented to so many brave people of high status. I am Souma, formerly of the
Kanzaki house, now bhenda bride and property of the Sakuma estate. However I
can serve, please do not hesitate to ask, especially if it is for the benefit
of my lord husband.”
 
Arashi’s mouth falls open. Chiaki’s face turns puzzled, and he looks from Rei
to Souma, then to Kaoru, hardly attempting to suppress his laughter.
 
“This isn’t a Northern thing, before you ask,” Izumi says underneath his breath
to Arashi. “The Kanzaki house—that’s the Hinterlands, and the Hinterlands are
the part of the North we don’t talk about.”
 
Kanata waits about a moment longer before pouncing, knocking Souma solidly onto
his back as he prowls over him, still dripping and with his eyes still dark.
“You’re…the real thing, aren’t you?” he breathes, grasping Souma’s face in one
moist, long-fingered hand. “I can smell the blood of the isles in you…Reiiii…is
he a gift?”
 
“Maybe wait until we’re done here, and we’ll see about that,” Rei answers,
entirely nonplused by the sight of Kanata nearly eating his so-called bride. He
plucks up a goblet of wine, content to hold it for now, but drinking it will
come soon enough. “Stop laughing, Kaoru, or I’ll let him at you again. Subaru,
you were saying?”
 
“I’m saying,” Subaru says loudly, completely ignoring the tableau unfurling in
front of him on the floor, stepping around it now that he’s finally free to
stand in front of Rei, “that Hajime was supposed to check in alot more, and I
want a cover story to go down and get him out!”
 
Souma shivers hard, his body responding to long-dormant resonant chords.
“You’re—one of them,” he whispers, eyes wide. “Aren’t you? Our saviors…”
 
“I see why you don’t talk about them,” Arashi whispers out of the corner of his
mouth.
 
“They’re not real Northerners,” Izumi lowly adds with a roll of his eyes. “The
Kanzaki clan especially—they’re originally from the Isles, like Natsume.
Pretty, but nuts, you know? And weird magical things, or at least, that’s what
legends say…”
 
“What’s your cover story to go pick up Shu and Mika, you two?” Rei interrupts
them, fingers drumming slowly against his cheek. “Or are two members of the
Kingsguard slavers now, too? Whatever it is, figure it out, and take this one
with you to retrieve Hajime without disturbing my plans. Kanata, I already said
you can’t eat him right now.”
 
Kanata pouts, seconds from chomping down right into Souma’s throat. “But he
looks…so good…” he sighs, slowly peeling himself away in a wobbly, wet mass of
limbs and cloth. “Rei…you’ve brought too many strange companions this time…”
 
Arashi looks at Izumi, then frowns. “Our plan was a bit more simple, actually?
It has to be, I was stationed in the Sandlands before, it’s not possible that
no one will remember. So, we were going to go down as ourselves, investigating
things on behalf of the king, but being really pretty and dumb and overlooking
anything real in exchange for bribes. The simpler the better, right?” He looks
critically at Subaru, then adds, “I’m sure he’d help the story of us being
idiots.”
 
“He couldn’t hurt it,” Izumi says with a roll of his eyes. “Anyway, word has
it—and I’m sure you already know—that a few exiled nobles are directly involved
with the scheme down South. My showing up in particular will do one of two
things—make them hustle and get sloppy, or make them clamp down and stop
operations. Either way, I figure that’s a good way to discover a few tidbits of
information while also dragging Mika and Shu out of the thick of it. They’ve
been down there long enough.” He pauses, and grumpily asks, “Is Isara down
there? Is that why he’s been out of my hair?”
 
“He’s down there—and on a side note, so is Keito, and I would appreciate it if
you would stay out of that part, specifically,” Rei says with a little smile.
“Coincidentally, I’m headed South as well. I won’t be there to interfere in
your research—and I trust you’ll take good care of my consort and little
bird—but if you need me, I suppose I’ll be but a hairsbreadth away.”
 
Literally why when we can do all of it? Izumi nearly snaps out, but he’s
learned that arguing with Rei is like arguing with a brick wall. “Fine,
whatever,” he says, resisting the urge to throw up his hands. “I love not
knowing all of the information, but I’m sure I can operate on this just fine.”
 
Now that he has his orders, Arashi feels his legs start to twitch, and he bows
again, more hastily. “We’ll take our leave, then. There are some…sensitive
things that we need to get down to the Sandlands anyway. C’mon, Captain,” he
adds, tugging Subaru’s belt. Chiaki, predictably, gets up to open the door for
him.
 
On the floor, Souma swallows hard, all of his attention on the human-shaped
creature (for no human ever emitted a frequency that rattles his bones like so,
just like in all of the legends) crouched above him, tensed and waiting for
orders. “Milord Rei,” he says quietly, “I don’t want to interrupt, but…”
 
“I told him not to eat you yet,” Rei mildly says, bidding Izumi and associates
a farewell with an absent wave. “Kanata, let the poor thing up.”
 
Kanata’s eyes narrow, irritation flashing behind them. “You bring this…and a
Hakaze as well,” he softly says, slowly climbing to his feet the rest of the
way. “You and Wataru both…will never stop toying with the wrong kinds of
things, will you…?”
 
“That’s a cruel thing to say.” Rei shifts, pushing himself up into more of a
sitting position, in spite of his yawning. “Wataru has lovely taste these days,
or so I’ve heard. Souma, come over here, he’s not going to eat you.”
 
“Ah…it seems poor taste to treat your honored guests this way,” Souma says
anxiously, climbing to his feet and hurrying to Rei’s side, then bowing again
to Kanata. “And my people owe his a great debt of gratitude, of course—“
 
“They’re not what you think they are,” Kaoru drawls, leaning back against the
wall. His hand makes the same twitching motion, towards a relic that he no
longer wears. “Don’t let them fool you, kid. They’re less like the Shadowbred
and more like Inglings.”
 
Souma’s hand moves to the hilt of his sword—surrendered upon entering the
castle, of course, so it just clenches in impotent fury. “Apologize to the
Great One! You heathen! You dare to call yourself of the Hinterlands—“
 
“Ehh, when did I ever claim that?” Kaoru laughs, easily dodging Souma’s first
strike.
 
“If you aren’t more polite to my friends, Kaoru, I won’t ask him to stand
down,” Rei calls over, slowly sipping his wine.
 
Kanata drifts his way over, grabs Souma by the ponytail, and tosses him back
next to Rei in one, easy throw. “No,” is all he offers to him before turning to
Kaoru, his head tilting. “The last I heard…of the Hakaze…you weren’t supposed
to favor Shadowbred, either,” he breathes, stepping uncomfortably close.
“But…things have changed, haven’t they…?”
 
There’s a tense silence, during which Kaoru meets Kanata’s eyes without fear,
something glittering under the surface, every muscle poised to strike. Then, he
breathes out, with a shrug of one shoulder. “Things haven’t really changed. I’m
just not a very good Hakaze, ask my family. But if you guys are breaking your
treaties, I miiiiight have to be a little less of a prodigal son and let them
know about it.”
 
“Kanata is an exception to every rule and every treaty,” Rei offers up, his
entire posture lazy, but his eyes sharp as he watches the two of them.
“Wavebred he might be, he’s still a wizard. Rare for their kind, of course, but
that’s the human in him, you see. Technically, he’s outside of your
jurisdiction, Kaoru…and entirely within mine.”
 
Kanata smiles, slow and languid, and his hair drips against Kaoru’s chest as he
leans forward a bit more. “Technically,” he smugly echoes Rei’s words, “you
can’t do aaanyythiiing about me…and if you work for Rei…that means…you
teeechnicallyyy…work for meee…”
 
“I don’t work for him,” Kaoru protests, looking up at Rei, aghast. “You can’t
have a Deepling working with you—I don’t care what we’re supposed to call them
now, that’s just wrong.”
 
“Wavebred, Kaoru.” Rei sighs, taking a longer sip of wine. “If you keep at
this, I’m not going to stop him when he tries to eat you. And you actually are
working for me, aren’t you? Or was that last blood pact not to your liking…”
 
“I’m gonna take a bite.”
 
“No, Kanata.”
 
Kanata’s teeth flash, coming dangerously close to chomping down onto Kaoru’s
neck. “You’re…not a good boy, are you,” he murmurs, his eyes lidded. “Maybe
that’s more fun~…”
 
Kaoru’s fingers finally move, sweeping into a complicated gesture, and there’s
a flash, a sizzle of power that tastes like salt and blazes like the sun—a
warning shot in return, though it leaves Kaoru breathing hard, unaccustomed to
feeling that ancient power move through him after all these years. “I’d hate to
be boring,” he breathes, eyes boring into Kanata. “I’ll stop, but because Rei
wants me to, not because I’m scared of you, Deepling. Some of us still remember
the old wars.”
 
Kanata’s eyes glitter, his pupils slitting as he holds Kaoru’s gaze, unmoving
even when that sizzle of power sparks between them. “It’s good…not to be
scared,” he breathes. “That makes it much more fu~n…”
 
“Enough, I’m already tired of this,” Rei bemoans, flopping back down and
covering his face with an arm. The sound of their magic makes his head ache,
and the worst part is that neither of them even realize it. “The sun is too
bright and you’re both too noisy. I’d prefer my puppy to this…out, all of you.
I want to rest until the sun goes down.”
 
“Very good, Milord Rei,” Souma agrees, still in a warrior’s stance. “I shall
gladly guard you until the evening.”
 
“He said out, kid,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “That means you, too. C’mon, I’ll
show you the best spots for sunbathing.”
 
“But I do not sunbathe, my skin is too pale—“
 
“Not for us, there’s going to be ladies out there.”
 
Kaoru slings an arm around the protesting Souma, though he shoots a hard look
over his shoulder at Kanata on his way out.
***** Chapter 36 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Welcome, Natsume of the Sakasaki Clan, Lord of the Isles.
 
Natsume stares at the words that glitter slowly into view, inscribed into the
enormous wooden door in a rambling script. They blur as he sways for a brief
second, the poor excuse of a world attempting to crash around him into the
darkness of unconsciousness—but no, he’s here, he’s not done yet.
 
One week ago, when he received Wataru’s missive, he hadn’t expected this. Rei’s
preparations to leave the Hinterlands and go South were troubling to begin
with, especially when Wataru’s silence reigned supreme, and it was far past the
deadline when he said he would be returning. And I still don’t know what you
are, does that mean you won’t want me?
 
Logically, upon receiving an incredibly distressed missive of Wataru’s image,
stricken and pale and pleading for him to come help, Natsume had leapt into
action. Packing his bag in the middle of the night action, running into Rei in
his attempts to escape Kaoru’s manor action—but Rei hadn’t attempted to stop
him. Instead—“The Shadowlands isn’t kind,” he had simply said, folding his arms
across his chest. “I can’t help you, if you’re apart from me.”
 
“I’m a Nightcloak. I don’t need help.”
 
Famous last words, but at least now, Natsume is sure of it.
 
What would Tsumugi think of him now, tattered and bitten up and looking
anything but like a noble lady? He doesn’t even look like a boy of common birth
at this point, with his hair yanked up into a bun, strands of it sticking to
the mud and blood caked in streaks to his face, with his skirts in tatters and
every dagger strapped to his thighs obviously revealed from how he’s pinned up
the layers to make moving far easier, even if it’s shredded his socks and
doesn’t exactly offer up a modest appearance. He doesn’t care, because he’s
here, after crawling his way across bridges riddled with beasts that he
couldn’t see, warding off demons that whisper from all sides, camping in woods
that are full of nothing friendly (or perhaps edible), and making enormous
traps to catch what chases him for at least long enough to escape and find a
different path.
 
Now, in front of this huge, stupid door that obviously knows him, he’s so tired
he can barely stand, but he’s here, and he can feel Wataru beyond it.
 
He thinks about knocking. That’s stupid. Instead, every last bit of magic left
in him he simply throws directly into that stupid door, and it caves inward,
giving him enough leverage to just shove it open with a hiss of breath, a
dagger between his teeth. He’ll murder whoever’s keeping Wataru with his bare
hands if he has to, to hell with it!
 
The door crashes open on its hinges, revealing a rather well-furnished cottage
beyond, quite at odds with the gloomy appearance of the outside. The
decorations could best be called eclectic, with thick plush rugs, odd stuffed
animals that look nothing like earthly creatures, and a pattern on the walls
that seems constantly shifting, pulsing with magic that both whispers contain
and repel at the same time. It’s a tiny wisp of power, hinting that either
there is vastly more power contained in this spell than is visible, or that it
was cast by someone incredibly weak.
 
And at the table, flushed with warm tea and good company, sitting across from
Demon Prince Ritsu, is Wataru, laughing merrily at one of his own jokes. “Oh,”
he says, only looking a little surprised to see Natsume. “Hello, little one.
You managed to join us after all, how amazing!”
 
Natsume stops dead, staring at the sight of Wataru, unscathed and obviously
enjoying himself. His eyes narrow, and he immediately yanks the dagger from his
teeth, slicing it across his palm to drawl blood for a powerful dispelling
charm, flung directly at Wataru and washing over him in a spray of red foam.
 
Nothing reacts, nothing changes, no illusion is removed to reveal a demon that
isn’t Wataru in the flesh, and Natsume sags in visible relief, trembling where
he stands. “You’re…alive,” he groans, scrubbing his eyes with his bleeding hand
uncaringly. “I thought…your missive…”
 
Wataru beams at him, spinning around in his chair—an armchair, with four legs,
that certainly doesn’t look as if it has the capacity to spin in any way. “You
really did care, I’m so touched! Come, sit, have some tea, you must be
exhausted. I’m not sure if you know this, little one, but you look rather a
mess.”
 
“Hi,” Ritsu adds, looking supremely unconcerned. “There’s sweets.”
 
Ignoring Ritsu entirely, Natsume stares at Wataru a moment longer before
subsequently stalking over and grabbing him by the collar to shake him with all
the power left in his body. “What the hell,” he snaps. “You made me come all
the way here—and you’re—you’re fine! You said you were dying!”
 
“And you believed me!” Wataru’s smile shines brightly, and he stands, grabbing
Natsume by the waist, tugging him into his lap. “Aren’t I a fantastic actor?
Ah, I’m so glad you made it, those traps can be so nasty, Ritsu…”
 
“They’re supposed to keep humans out,” Ritsu agrees, sipping his tea. “You must
be something else.”
 
Natsume trembles visibly, overstimulated and overwhelmed and very, very angry,
which he swiftly channels by grabbing handfuls of Wataru’s hair and yanking him
forward into a hard, rough kiss.
 
“Uwaa,” Ritsu murmurs in a deadpan, gaze sharp as he watches from under lidded
eyes.
 
Wataru’s mouth is hot and eager, the arm around Natsume’s waist as strong as
ever, tugging him close. The hand that comes up to gently touch Natsume’s
cheek, however, lacks his usual power, the fingertips trembling as they rest on
his skin, just for a moment. His eyes sparkle when he draws back, licking his
lips. “Ah, oh, my, I should fake my own demise more often, ahaha!”
 
Natsume slaps him right across the cheek, leaving a solid red handprint that’s
red only partially from the force of it (the other half of it is the blood).
“You’re the worst, I hate you,” he snarls, even as he plasters himself into
Wataru’s chest, burrowing closer even then. “I’m gross and hungry and mad.
Handfeed me.”
 
“You’re so delightfully cruel to me,” Wataru says, with the air of someone
gloating rather than complaining. He grabs a sweet, reaching awkwardly across
Natsume, and only barely manages, through utter focus and concentration, not to
drop the cake on the way to Natsume’s mouth. It’s a close thing, though none of
the strain is reflected in his cheerful expression. “Say ‘aah,’ little one!”
 
Natsume takes a bite, growling a little underneath his breath as he chews and
swallows. “You deserve it,” he mutters, glowering up at Wataru through his
lashes. “Whatever’s wrong with you, you totally deserve it. But tell me what it
is and I’ll fix it before I pass out, even if I’m mad at you.”
 
If anything, Wataru’s smile grows far larger, more genuine, and he squeezes
Natsume closer. “I told you he’d know immediately, didn’t I, Ritsu? He’s so
clever, so exceptional!”
 
“He’s dying,” Ritsu says with a yawn. “Stepped into a real bad curse.”
 
“And I did it beautifully!”
 
“You did it stupid.” Ritsu pops a candy into his mouth, sucking noisily. “You
got me in trouble. Control him, eh, Natsume? Don’t let him go launching himself
into the middle of executions and stuff, I’m s’posed to stop folks who do
that.”
 
“What have you been doing down in here?” Natsume exasperatedly asks, twisting
and wriggling in Wataru’s lap to straddle his thighs and glare at him properly.
“What kind of curse? What kind of execution? Mommy used to dispell stuff like
that and she was just Enhanced so I’m probably even better at it—tell me,
you’re not allowed to die.”
 
Wataru shrugs, as if it’s a vastly uninteresting topic to him. When he waves a
hand, the fingers are rather pale and a bit lifeless, now that he’s not trying
to pretend. “Unfortunately, I’m still something of a fool when it comes to the
ways of my homeland. It’s possible that I saw something that soured my stomach,
and I felt compelled on the spur of the moment to—“
 
“You’re still too soft,” Ritsu interrupts, “and you’re used to humans. He tried
to save a kid from getting executed for theft,” he informs Natsume, ignoring
the affronted glare Wataru shoots him. “Don’t look at me like that, if you’re
gonna try to make a play for the Shadowlands, you have to get used to that
stuff again.”
 
Natsume scowls, grabbing Wataru’s face in his hands, squeezing hard. “First of
all, you’re not allowed to stay here,” he flatly says. “Humans can’t live here,
so you can’t live here, because I’m human and I don’t want to stay here. Second
of all, you’re so stupid for someone so smart. Third of all, you’re not allowed
to die, or I’ll be furious with you and never talk to you again. Got it?”
 
“Rules! How delightful, the way you try to contain me,” Wataru declares,
struggling against Natsume’s hold to press a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry, I
took steps to preserve my life. Why, I even sent for the most talented wizard I
know, who hastened to my side!” He lowers his voice just slightly. “And I
sequestered myself in this cottage, which is keeping the worst of it at bay. I
fear I can’t leave just now, though, or it will spread to the rest of my soul.
It’s contained, for the moment, but my wards are crumbling bit by bit. This is
a nasty execution curse, that child could have died.”
 
“That was the point, you clown.”
 
Natsume twists in Wataru’s lap, glaring over at Ritsu. “And you didn’t do
anything?” he lowly says. “Aren’t you Lord Rei’s brother? You should’ve been
able to do something.”
 
Ritsu stares at Natsume, entirely nonplussed. “He staggered into my cottage
half-dead with his soul unraveling,” he says in a deadpan. “I got him to this
place, but hell if I know how to cure any—um, anything like this,” he amends,
after seeing a tiny shake of Wataru’s head.
 
Natsume sees the movement out of the corner of his eye, and his eyes narrow,
his gaze flipping back to Wataru, sharp and critical. “You’re not telling me
the whole story,” he says, an edge of warning already in his voice. “Are you,
Wataru?” Not ‘Master.’ Wataru doesn’t get to be called that right now.
 
Wataru looks from Ritsu (totally unhelpful) to Natsume, and his smile actually
wavers. Finally, he sighs, and drops at least one of his masks. “I would have
been able to take care of the curse on my own with no problem,” he admits. “But
I was weakened. I didn’t want you to worry.”
 
“He got the plague.”
 
“Please stop tattling on me,” Wataru says wearily. “I’m telling him, I
promise.” He takes in a breath, then looks into Natsume’s eyes. “Telling the
direct truth…is rather anathema to my nature. Up here…it has a stronger grasp
on me. Please be as patient as you can, I’m not hiding anything from you that I
won’t tell you eventually.”
 
Natsume grits his teeth, curbing his temper, if only for a moment. “…Then we’ll
take care of the curse first, and the plague after, so the curse doesn’t keep
making it worse,” he mutters, deflating slowly as he suddenly becomes too
worried to keep being angry. “You’re the stupidest ever.”
 
“Guilty,” Wataru says merrily, leaning back in his chair, attempting not to
look as if he’s sagging back. The energy required to make it look as if he’s
not dying is nearly extinguished, and he closes his eyes, letting out a long
breath. “Do you want me to guide you? Don’t overstrain, I’ll need you to fetch
the cure for the plague, neither Ritsu nor myself can go where it grows.
They’ve been using human slaves to harvest it, that’s where they’re going. Ah,
did that make sense? My mind is skipping to and fro…”
 
“I can do it. I can do all of it, but you’re going to spoil me so much
afterwards when you aren’t going to die.” Natsume slithers out of his lap,
brushing off the tatters of his clothes as if that’s going to make them more
acceptable. “Draw me a map or something. For the curse—I’m going to just use
blood magic. That’s been really heightened here, is that a thing? I hate the
Shadowlands, nothing works the same.”
 
“Physics matter less, intent matters more,” Wataru confirms. “It’s because of
the magic in the air, sinking into everything around here. The people, too.
Even the humans who live here become something else after a while. That’s why
they’ve got to keep importing them, you know. Soak in the shadows for long
enough, and—“
 
“You don’t need to talk about that right now,” Ritsu growls. “That’s not a good
thing to make me think about. Hey, kid, you want new clothes? I have some robes
that would fit you…”
 
“Not right now. Busy.”
 
When Natsume says he’s going to do something, he almost always means right
then, right now.This is no exception, especially when Wataru’s life is on the
line—he refuses to wait to fix this.
 
He kicks aside the rug on the floor, pleased that he actually has a hard
surface underneath to draw a proper magical circle with the last stub of chalk
he has in his pocket, sketching it out with rapid skill born of being stuck in
the Shadowlands minus a master for over a week. The cut on his hand has started
to dry up and close already, but he rends it open anew with a knife, leaving a
droplet of blood at each point of the pentagram. That alone makes it flash
green, already vibrating with magic courtesy of the setting, and he steps out
of the center before it can start sucking on him, like he’s learned these
portals tend to do in the Shadowlands. “Can you stand?” he asks, reaching out a
hand for Wataru. “I’ll drag you over here, if I have to—come into the center,
I’m going to rip the curse off of you and send it somewhere else.”
 
Wataru takes in a deep breath, then nods, getting to his feet and following
after Natsume. “I have some strength left. Ah, and if you need any extra
energy, I can take some away from maintaining my internal organs for up to five
hours without dying, isn’t that incredible?”
 
“You need any extra blood?” Ritsu asks lazily. “I probably have some food in
the dungeon.”
 
“No, and that’s gross. And it has to be willingly given blood, anyway. Sit
down, Master, you’re too awful to die.”
 
It’s far too easy to shove Wataru down into the center of his circle, and
Natsume does not like that. It sends a tremor of fear through him for the first
time—am I good enough for this? this isn’t practice, this is real, this is
Wataru—and he bites at his lower lip as he steps back in, lingering at one of
the points. The light that flares up through the lines of chalk shifts closer
to blue now, and Natsume holds out his wrist next, drawing his dagger shallowly
across it. “It’s the new moon, so it’ll separate more easily,” he softly says,
watching his blood drip out again and to the floor, where it foams and sizzles.
“In the names of my ancestors, my gods, and myself, I call upon thee—come
forth, cleanse this man of all evil and alien, and restore them to balance and
health.”
 
The light flares again, and the droplets of blood skitter inward to an odd
circle around Wataru, twisting the light to a deep violet instead. The pull on
his own strength nearly yanks him to his knees now, but Natsume locks his
knees, refusing to let up. “Come forth, then send it away—back to its source,
to the caster of this will! By our wills combined—“
 
The backlash is sharp and abrupt, far more than any book has ever described
dispelling a curse would be. It sends a slicing pain through his temple, and
Natsume cringes, his hand trembling where it remains outstretched, letting his
blood continue to drip and feed the spell. That means it’s working, I can’t
stop now just because it hurts. “By our wills combined, so mote it be!”
 
The flash of light and power nearly blinds him, and he rocks back onto his
heels, trembling at the sudden change in pressure in the entire cottage as it
slowly dies down. There’s so much less…weight, if he has to put a word to it,
and Natsume, pale and sweating, remains unmoving, waiting until the light on
the circle dies down to something resembling glowing embers. Sending a curse
away means he feels it pass through him, and the strength of it eating through
his already exhausted body is…less than pleasant. “Was that…are you…it’s gone,
isn’t it?”
 
For a long minute, there’s silence, as quiet as the grave. Then, a single
ragged breath in the darkness. There’s a cough, and then a sigh, and light
flares into existence above them, gentle and glowing, then settling into the
lamps to blaze to life once again.
 
Wataru sits up, looking deathly pale, but a bit less shaky. The transparent,
trembling quality of his limbs has vanished, leaving him looking wan, but
otherwise alive. “You,” he says quietly, looking steadfastly at Natsume, the
rest of the ritual deserving little to none of his attention, “are much
stronger than Rei thinks.”
 
Natsume sways, and based on that statement alone, stubbornly refuses to
collapse. “Tell me where the plague-stuff-place is,” he mutters, moving only to
snuff out the lines of his circle by rubbing his booted toe against them a few
times, effectively breaking them. He doesn’t want anything trying to creep back
through, after all. “I’m…I’m going to go, before I’m too tired.”
 
Wataru stands, finding grace in the movements somehow, and grabs Natsume by the
arm. His own hand is perhaps cooler than usual, but the grip is powerful. He
pulls Natsume to him, holding him fast, and presses a deep kiss to his lips.
 
Life sparks, and magic creates itself, replicating between them at his urging,
spilling between their bodies and suffusing both of them, until there’s more
than enough life to go around, energy spilling into Natsume, through him,
around him, swirling wildly in a barely-contained whirlwind, whipping unseen at
the tatters of his clothes. “There,” Wataru pronounces, with a self-satisfied
smile. “Feel a bit better, my little dove?”
 
Natsume breathes out a long breath, trembling and flushed where he stands,
clinging to the front of Wataru’s shirt in a white-knuckled grasp. “Y…yes,” he
whispers, sagging backwards. “Much. Ah…you better spoil me so much after this,
I’m really, really sick of this place already…”
 
One corner of Wataru’s mouth lifts in an ironic smile. “Ah, it seems as if my
plans of owning a summer home in the Shadowlands are for naught, eh? Take me to
the Isles instead, I remember it as far superior.”
 
“The Isles are so much better,” Natsume groans, finally giving into the urge to
slump forward into Wataru’s chest, burying his face there with a little sniff.
“Warm…and sunny…and only sometimes can you maybe die from hurricanes…but you’d
like that, I think. Hurry up and tell me where I need to go before I stay right
here.”
 
“Spend the night,” Wataru urges. He nestles his face in Natsume’s hair,
breathing in deeply. “Now that I’m not fighting the curse, I can keep the
illness at bay for weeks, if I must.”
 
“But…” Natsume trembles, wavering. Wataru is so solid and smells so good, and
now that he’s not trying to immediately die, refusing him is so, so difficult…
“You’re not in pain?” he softly asks, glancing up with large, worried eyes. “If
you are, I’ll go. Right now.”
 
Wataru beams. “If I were, I’d lie,” he says frankly, “just to keep you close to
me. With that in mind, will you believe me when I say I’m fine? I’ve missed you
so.”
 
Natsume’s lips purse, but there’s no arguing with a statement like that. His
heart thuds uncomfortably in his chest, and he flops forward again, stretching
up on his toes to throw his arms around Wataru’s neck and cling. “Fine,” he
mumbles. “Take care of me, then.”
 
With only that as an invitation, Wataru scoops Natsume off of his feet into a
princess carry, holding him close to his broad chest. “Thank you for your
hospitality, my friend,” he calls to Ritsu, half in some otherworldly tongue.
Then he turns, headed for the small bedroom off the cottage’s main kitchen.
“Mm, someone activated my warning, I see. Were you trifling behind my back,
little one?”
 
“W-what?” Natsume’s face jerks up at that, horror written plainly across his
face. “No! I mean, I didn’t, one of Lord Rei’s friends tried to get handsy and
then…” His face flushes, and he punches Wataru in the shoulder. “Why’d you put
that there, anyway?”
 
Wataru doesn’t even flinch from the hit, tossing Natsume onto the bed and
crawling on after him. “Because I was going to be gone,” he says practically,
“and you may have felt obligated to follow me, and there are things that could
easily try to feast upon what I’ve already…sampled.” He turns his head, placing
a slow lick on the inside of Natsume’s wrist, over the cut already starting to
heal. “If Rei’s friend is alive, he must not have tried very hard.”
 
Natsume’s breath catches up in his throat. The easy, casual way that Wataru
says that sends a shudder down his spine, and he briefly wonders what’s wrong
with him when the words don’t scare him, but instead, make his blood pump
hotter and his face flush with pleasure. He’dkill someone for me.“He…seemed to
get the hint, pretty fast,” he whispers, his thighs trembling before they
splay, and his chest heaves. Just Wataru’s tongue dragging over his skin makes
pleasant goosebumps prickle up and down his arms, his fingers curling slowly
into his equally bloodied palm. “You shouldn’t—I look like a mess…”
 
“You look,” Wataru says softly, hair spilling around them in a wild fall, arms
making short work of the bloodied tatters of Natsume’s clothing, “like someone
who walked through fire and death to be at my side.”
 
For a moment, he abandons his work, just grabbing Natsume in a fierce hug,
crushing him to his chest. His breathing slows, pulsing slowly in time with
Natsume’s own. Deep inside, the corrupted, rotting tendrils of plague lash
against his defenses, leaving sickly score marks against his insides, but he
tamps it ruthlessly down. It will win one day, if he doesn’t get the cure, but
not yet. Not now, when Natsume is in his arms again, safe and whole and still
wanting him and unbearably human. “Keep looking at me with those eyes, love.
There’s nothing more precious to me than the soul I see through them.”
 
Natsume shudders, and gives in, throwing his arms around Wataru’s broad
shoulders and clinging there so tightly that his nails rake into his back. “I
missed you…so…so much,” he whispers, stuffing his face into Wataru’s neck,
ending up with a facefull of his hair, and savoring it. He inhales deeply,
winding his legs around Wataru, too, all to make sure he can cling to him with
all four limbs. “Sorry—sorry, I still don’t know what you are, but I don’t
care, you’re mine…”
 
“That’s what I am, then.”
 
Wataru’s long-fingered hands drag down Natsume’s sides, holding him close,
touching and stroking and worshipping that body that he remembers perfectly
despite them only having one time to remember. Touches turn to gentle kisses,
and he nuzzles behind one of Natsume’s ears, whispering, “I’m many things,
little love. And all of them are yours.”
 
Natsume exhales a soft, shaky breath, his head falling back with a huff as he
fists his fingers into Wataru’s hair instead, unraveling the one, perfectly
coiled and braided bun with a few, swift tugs. “Mine,” he repeats, more
confident saying the word when Wataru agrees with him and speaks of him so
fondly. “Nnn, if someone else had tried to take a bite, I would’ve killed them,
you know. No one else is allowed—and your hands feel so good…”
 
The bit of Wataru’s hair that Natsume unravels seems to curl around Natsume’s
fingers for a moment, before Wataru sternly thinks, stop it, and it goes back
to being hair. His hands make quick work of the rags covering Natsume’s body,
but he can’t pull back to enjoy it, not when being tangled in Natsume is so
much more necessary. “You can’t wear these rags anymore,” he murmurs, tossing
the rags over his shoulder. “So lewd…any passing demons could have seen, you
know, and wanted to take what’s been given to me so freely…”
 
“Said as if they didn’t try—there were tentaclessometimes,” Natsume hisses,
tugging on Wataru’s hair unrepentantly, unconcerned with how it sometimes
decides to just move on its own. “I had to pack my cloak up so it wouldn’t get
messed up; it’s not allowed to, you gave it to me.”
 
“I could always make you another,” Wataru reminds him gently. “Ah, actually,
Shu made it, I merely modified it. You should wear it, you know. There’s more
to it than cloth, and everything inside will protect you.”
 
That doesn’t stop his hands from moving on their own, running over bare flesh
now that the rags are gone, waking Natsume’s body to the pleasure they’d found
together before. “But for now…open to me, let me adore you.”
 
Natsume trembles, knowing he’s still an overstimulated mess, feeling like he’s
still too bloody and bruised and gross for any of this, but Wataru’s hands feel
so good that he can’t say no. He sags down into the mattress, reaching back to
unravel the cord binding his own hair. “I want to be spoiled,” he groans, his
thighs splaying open in surrender, his back arching when Wataru’s hands drag
down his sides. “Master…Wataru…if you’re mine, then I’m definitely yours, you
know…”
 
“Mmm. Yes. I know.”
 
Wataru pulls off of him, pressing another kiss to his lips before leaning back
on his knees, then stalking to the ewer by the windowsill. He takes a soft
cloth, then dips it into the basin, wheeling the table over to rest by the bed.
“Lie back for the moment, darling. Let me spoil what’s mine.” He dips one
finger into the water, swirling it slowly, infusing it with properties of
tingling, healing, cleansing, strength—a casual magic he would hardly be
capable of back at the Academy, which comes as easy as breathing in the
Shadowlands.
 
Natsume obeys with a little, shaky sigh of relief. It’s nice that he doesn’t
have to say things for Wataru to just understand sometimes. “Magic…has a
strange look to it, here,” he murmurs, shutting his eyes to have some reprieve
from it. “I haven’t had a vision since I stepped in here, but magic itself, I
feel like I can see it so clearly. It makes me dizzy.”
 
Wataru pauses, then stirs his finger again, adding just a hint more fortitude,
something that naturally comes with a dulling of the senses. “Let me know if it
drives you mad,” he says lightly, and starts to wash Natsume’s chest. The
motion is tender, but not precisely erotic; gentle, but not teasing. For the
moment, it’s simply care, the cloth swirling softly over his chest, abdomen,
upper arms and shoulders, and neck. After each repetition, Wataru tips clear,
cool water over the cloth, wringing it out into an empty bowl, slowly filling
with murky refuse as grime and blood disappear from Natsume’s skin. Small cuts
vanish; large ones close and start to heal, pink lines appearing where rent
skin had been. “If the sights are too much, I can make an ointment that dulls
them for you. Scoot up, let me get your legs.”
 
“No, I’d rather see it than be blind here, that seems worse,” Natsume groans,
slowly wriggling his way up, feeling more boneless by the minute underneath
Wataru’s care. No one would believe him that Wataru is this gentle and careful,
but to him, it seems like something obvious and commonplace. “It’s so good to
be clean…I’m sure you think I’m acting like a prissy noblewoman, but who wants
to look like a wild thing for that long?” he grumbles, kicking his feet a
little. “Especially when I show up and you’re dying, but you still look good
while you’re doing it.”
 
Natsume’s self-concern is entirely too cute, and Wataru smiles to himself,
carefully cleaning one foot, then pressing a kiss to the arch before releasing
it back down to the bed. “Doubtless Ritsu can tell you some stories of recent
days when I looked considerably less…groomed,” he says with a laugh. The
washcloth moves down one calf, up one thigh, carefully dipping and swiping.
“It’s no bad thing to want to be well, and whole, and yourself. After all, that
prissy noblewoman is the one I fell in love with, no?”
 
Natsume slowly flushes with those words, twisting partially onto his side to
stuff his face into a pillow. “You’re being awfully sweet to me, Master,” he
says, the words muffled. “You must’ve missed me a lot.”
 
Wataru laughs quietly, and swipes the cloth over the inside of Natsume’s thighs
next, letting it trail up into often forbidden territory. “I suppose I did,” he
murmurs. “There were…many things I would have been unable to bear, if I hadn’t
had the idea of you waiting for me. I owe you my life, in many forms.”
 
Natsume’s breath hiccups, even when the touch is just a casual one. Apparently,
just the thought of Wataru’s hands anywhere near his thighs, north or south of
them, is still more than enough to make his entire body warm. He blames those
old, very vivid visions for that still haunting his dreams. “You should’ve
just…taken me with you,” he grouses, lifting his face enough to peer over at
him. “Then maybe you wouldn’t’ve been stupid, and we could’ve had a lot more
fun.”
 
“If it were a question of fun, I certainly would have,” Wataru assures him.
Then, he flips him over to lay on his stomach, and continues washing him down,
leaning over him now, letting Natsume feel the press of his body—no more, for
the current moment, but certainly no less. “But if I had, then you wouldn’t be
able to pick my flower tomorrow, and I’d die of the plague.”
 
“You’re not going to die, I’d kill you myself first,” Natsume growls, reaching
up to grab a handful of Wataru’s hair to use, more or less, as a leash. Wataru
pressing against him from behind, that haunts his dreams, too, and he shivers,
melting down into the mattress. His cock likes to remind him that more touch
would be great, thanks, but he savors this, enjoying this slow, drawn out dance
more than he expected after so long. “It’s stupid of you to think I’d let you
leave me, ever.”
 
“Well, don’t forget. I am a fool, after all.”
 
Wataru laughs, like the sound of tinkling bells chiming through the air. He
puts up with the hold on his hair good-naturedly, as it lets him rub and stroke
Natsume while cleaning him, fully appreciating the sight of all that creamy
skin being cleansed, prepared, laid bare. Just because he can, he dips the
barest corner of the cloth up between Natsume’s thighs, and up, flicking
lightly over his hole before being washed again, then stroking down his sides.
“Every part of you, little one…I’m going to worship every single part of you,
before you see the sun again.”
 
The little squeak that escapes Natsume is muffled into a pillow, and he glowers
down into it, the heat on his face traveling further and further down. “You
better,” he mumbles, his breath hitching as he squirms slightly, giving
Wataru’s hair a tug. “I’ve been deprived. I think about how…how you just know
how to touch me all the time. And your hands, and how nice and big your chest
is, and how your hair smells…”
 
“Use your words,” Wataru urges, swiping the cloth over Natsume’s back, long,
tender strokes that remove the grime and grit far faster than ordinary cloth
and water ever could. “Tell me—what does my hair smell like to you, what does
my touch do to your body? What have you been dreaming of, while you’ve been
missing me?”
 
Natsume groans, a low, rumbling sound as his back arches underneath the touch
like a cat’s. “It smells like air,” he says, shivering as he pulls a handful of
it to his nose on purpose. “Like…the kind of air that only birds can reach…” He
bites his lip, his toes curling. “You know exactly how to touch me, like…like
you’re reading my mind, and it feels like a chemical reaction every single
time…and I…I…always remember…the way your hands feel on my thighs…and…the name
you called me…” His face burns. “‘Kitten.’”
 
Wataru’s kiss is more of a bite, taking a piece out of Natsume instead of
giving of himself, sealing his lips to Natsume’s neck. “You’ve earned it, I
suppose,” he murmurs, trailing those kisses over Natsume’s shoulders, his upper
back, down one arm, as the cloth continues its uninterrupted work. “Have you
ever been flying, Kitten? Up where the air is thin, it’s cold, but so beautiful
your heart would burst—and the birds wheel in joy, because the air is so thin
it makes them laugh. I’ll take you there someday, if you want.”
 
“Anywhere you are, I want to go,” Natsume says on a shudder, his fingers
clenching and unclenching against the bed, splaying apart when Wataru’s mouth
trails down his arm. Those kisses feel like they pull on his magic like a mouth
would when sucking on his skin, leaving little blossomed spots of color behind,
and he squirms, grateful that his cock is trapped against the bed right now for
at least a little bit of friction. “You’re starting to be mean,” he only half-
heartedly complains. “Master, you have to play with me.”
 
“Ahh, are you starting to breathe easier, now?”
 
The cloth washes away more than the physical dirt Natsume had picked up. Now
clean, he’s also free of the clinging, cloying spells that had attempted to
latch onto him, like vines leaving stinging burrs. He may not even have felt
them, but the wear and tear on his spirit would certainly be noticeable. Now,
most of those spell fragments lie discarded on the table, wriggling and slowly
dying, invisible to normal vision as they starve without Natsume to keep them
alive. They’d be best compared to leeches, but they’re easily trimmed away, if
one knows what they are doing.
 
Once that’s done, Wataru’s hands drift to curl around Natsume’s body, cloth
discarded, running his hands up his sides, then to his chest, delicately
stroking and teasing. “I’ve dreamed about having you underneath me for weeks,
Kitten. Let me savor it.”
 
“Good, it wasn’t just me,” Natsume huffs, twisting around in Wataru’s arms to
flop onto his back again. He grabs up handfuls of Wataru’s hair as he arches
up, fastening his mouth to the side of Wataru’s neck, intent on leaving a mark
of his own. “You can savor me all you want, but more aggressively,” he murmurs,
gently biting down.
 
Wataru laughs, and endures the kiss with good humor, though something flickers
behind his eyes. “Turn back over, I want you like that first.”
 
Natsume starts to protest, but a shiver runs down his spine, silencing his
commentary. “The way you said that is weird,” he huffs softly, but slowly
complies, turning back over. “You’re supposed to be spoiling me.”
 
Wataru prepares something witty and delightful to say, but something in
Natsume’s face—“You’re hiding things from me,” the boy says in his memory—makes
him flinch. He sighs, and murmurs, “I’m hiding something from you. I don’t want
you distracted when I have you the first time, Kitten. But if you want, I’ll
show you.”
 
Natsume turns his head, scowling at him through the heavy, mussed pile of his
hair as he pushes himself up onto his elbows. “Is it something that’s killing
you?” he bluntly asks. “That I’m going to have to fix later?”
 
“No, no, just a little leftover something from the execution,” Wataru assures
him. “But it is…unsightly.”
 
“If it’s not killing you, then it’s fine. Show me or I’ll get mad and let the
Demon Prince out there eat me instead.”
 
Wataru’s eyes flash. “He knows better,” he says softly, and tilts his head
back, letting his robes fall from around his shoulders. It isn’t difficult to
see what he means. A scar, glittering with some sort of magical energy, runs
from where neck meets shoulder on his left side, all the way across his body
and down to his right hip. The line of it is angry and fresh, but sealed by
magic and prompt care. “If it hadn’t been for the night I spent with you before
coming up here,” Wataru says, eyes locked on Natsume’s, “this would have been a
far less trivial concern. I’ll take another big bite now, if you don’t mind,
and finish up this rather ugly mess.”
 
Natsume’s lips part, and he reflexively lifts a hand, almost reaching out to
touch before he thinks the better of it. “You can have as much as you need,” he
manages, staring up at Wataru. “You don’t even have to ask. I don’t know why
you would.”
 
Wataru grabs Natsume’s hand, bringing it to the wound. It tingles to the touch,
but otherwise just feels like raised flesh. Slowly, he brings that hand around
his body, to feel an identical mark in the back, as if the bladed object had
gone entirely through his body, splitting him in two, and smiles. “Whatever I
am, I like to have permission before beginning a meal,” he says lightly, and
pounces, pressing Natsume down to the bed, face buried in his neck, hands
traveling down to yank his thighs apart.
 
A squeak leaves Natsume’s throat as he collapses back, one of his favorite
visions ever temporarily blurring his actual sight and confusing the two when
Wataru’s hands close around his thighs to pry them open. He swallows audibly,
his fingers clawing into Wataru’s back, right above the wound before he catches
himself. “Sorry—I—idiot, you don’t need permission,” he groans, sagging back,
his head rolling back to offer his neck up in an eager arc. “I tooold you, I’m
yours, so eat me up…”
 
Out of the Shadowlands, Wataru keeps his true self so tightly bottled up, it
may as well not exist. There, he’d been careful, fearful of letting himself go
too far, of causing Natsume harm.
 
Here, though, when he’s fed enough on ambient energy to sustain his life…more
attention can be paid to the finer things in life. Like how it feels to have
Natsume pant those words in his ears, for example.
 
“You won’t hurt me,” he assures the lovely young man under him, his body
pressing Natsume down to the bed, letting them rock together for a moment, slow
and easy and dated, each grind of their bodies together driving him to make the
next one a little longer, a little harder. “I think…I want to taste you at
least once before claiming you.” With that and no other warning, he crawls
down, sealing his mouth over Natsume’s hardening cock without hesitation, jaw
open wide enough to easily swallow the entire length.
 
Natsume barely stifles the cry that escapes from his throat with his fist,
biting down into it reflexively when Wataru’s mouth, so hot and slick so
suddenly, swallows him whole. His hips buck up, his other hand fisting tightly
into Wataru’s hair, that aching tension that sweeps down his spine making his
thighs tremble and splay even more. “So you’re…gonna taste me in more than one
way, huh?” he manages to breathlessly laugh, his eyes fluttering as he feels
himself drip over Wataru’s tongue. “Master, I can’t…” There’s no way I can last
if you do this, I can’t, I can’t.
 
Wataru’s eyes flutter open, enough to look up at Natsume as he lets that hand
be his guide, urging him farther down, until the entire thing is buried in his
throat. It would be a simple trick to use his magic to make this easy,
swallowing him down with no issues. So, naturally, Wataru either neglects or
refuses to use it. This way, he feels every bit of the thick, aching stretch in
his mouth, forcing his jaw wide, bringing tears to his eyes as he swallows
Natsume down. His hands come up to brace on those pale thighs, stroking and
touching them, before one hand dips lower. Here he does use a hint of his
talent, just enough to slick one fingertip before letting it press, then push,
sliding in to the second knuckle in the space of a breath. Time to see just how
much you’ve really been aching for me.
 
Natsume’s voice breaks on a lower, rumbling groan as he reflexively clenches
down, trembling as he arches clear off the bed and yanks Wataru’s head down at
the same time. “S-sorry—sorry, fuck,” he whimpers, throwing his other arm over
his face, feeling the way his cock jumps and pulses against Wataru’s tongue,
threatening to spill just from a single finger inside. Even that feels like too
much when he’s wound so tightly, his calf muscles trembling, knees bent until
his toes barely touch the bed where they curl. He hasn’t even had time to think
of himself over the past few weeks, between Wataru’s disappearance and his own
inevitable running after him. Natsume’s chest heaves as his hips twitch upward,
helpless to do anything but fuck into the heat of Wataru’s mouth when he’s
already so close. “Wataru…t-that’s so…”
 
And then, because he can’t help it, he spills with the next shivery, twitchy
little shock of pleasure that runs through him, making him squirm and twist
with a sob escaping his throat as he spills over Wataru’s tongue. Another
apology tries to escape, but to hell with it—he just whines, tugging on
Wataru’s hair uselessly.
 
Wataru stays in place for a long moment, his lack of gagging far more to do
with long practice rather than with magic, before finally pulling up, just
enough that he can lap gently at the head until it’s clean and softening.
“Thanks for the meal,” he says cheerfully, despite a few tear tracks snaking
down the flush on his cheeks. “Ahh, I really must spoil you like that more
often…perhaps every day when you wake up, and at afternoon tea…”
 
As he talks, his finger starts stroking gently, curling and pushing into
Natsume a little more each time, its motion so deliberate that when he does
finally brush just slightly against that sweet bud of nerves, it can only be on
purpose.
 
The noise that leaves Natsume this time is a weak gurgle of a moan, and he
thrashes, twisting partially sideways in his overstimulation. “Do that agaaain,
don’t you dare stop,” he pants out, his own face flushed a deep, ruddy pink as
his thighs try to clamp down around Wataru’s arm, not letting him pull his hand
away. “You…nh…i-if you keep doing that, I might…again…”
 
“Can you?” Wataru asks, delighted, doing as bidden and curling his finger
again, more firmly this time. “Even when you just did? What a lewd little
kitten in heat you are, hmm? I wonder how many times I can bring you to the
brink…and whether I should let you fall over each time…”
 
Natsume’s back arches, a throaty groan pulled from him as he rocks down onto
Wataru’s hand, trembling as he reaches down with grabbing fingers, trying to
reach Wataru’s wrist and feel more, somehow. “Don’t be mean, you’re supposed to
be spoiling me,” he whimpers, wriggling down. “Wataru…more, please, you…”
 
“Oh? And do you not feel good?” Wataru’s voice is gentle, though his smile is
anything but. “You stopped calling me Master, does that mean you want me to
call you Natsume? Well, I can certainly bow to a request for more, when it’s
said so sweetly…” He adds another finger, watching Natsume’s face as he spreads
them apart.
 
Natsume’s mouth falls open, voice gone for a moment as he arches, trembling,
his cock dripping onto his stomach. It truly feels like Wataru is playing with
him, but in the best of ways, stroking him from the inside out and making his
hands grab desperately for any kind of purchase. “Y…you…calling me that, is
even better, somehow?” he pants out. “W-when you talk to me like…I’m really
your lover…”
 
For once, Wataru fumbles for words. He blinks suddenly stinging eyes, and
withdraws his hand suddenly, covering Natsume’s body in his own, lining up and—
 
“Sorry,” he whispers, and pushes in with one urgent motion, cock sliding in
deep as he presses kiss after kiss to Natsume’s forehead. “Just bear with it,
I’ll make you love it, just—you’re mine, Natsume—“
 
It’s so much all at once that Natsume doesn’t even have a chance to breathe—and
maybe that’s better, what with how his body tenses and trembles, his legs
splaying, his back arching entirely off the bed as he clings to Wataru’s back,
his nails raking down his spine. “I-it’s…f-fine, it’s just…” He whimpers, his
eyes squeezing shut. Being so, so full takes his breath away, and his chest
heaves every time he clenches down, far from on his own accord. “R-really good,
I’m gonna…”
 
“Whenever you want. As many times as you want.” Wataru gives him a brief smile,
then closes his eyes, lost in sudden pleasure as Natsume squeezes him so
tightly it shakes his grip on reality. “J-just…don’t expect me to stop.”
 
Natsume’s nails claw against Wataru’s spine, yanking on handfuls of his hair as
he squirms down, panting out a hot, shaky breath against Wataru’s throat. “You
gotta move, though,” he whispers, sweat dripping down from his hairline.
“You’re not gonna hurt me, please, please…”
 
Wataru laughs a little to himself, and finally braces his knees on the bed,
setting a sweet rocking motion as he pulls back a few bare centimeters, then
rocks in again, satisfying the edge of that tension building in him for just a
moment. Then he slows, adjusting his motion until he lets the head of his cock
drag over something he knows intimately well, deep inside. “It’s not spoiling
you well enough if you’re having to direct me,” he murmurs, taking Natsume’s
lower lip between his teeth and sucking on it. “Let me…make it up to you…”
 
“A…ahhh…” It feels like that trembling just won’t stop now. His legs are the
worst, shaking as he tries to squeeze his thighs around Wataru’s waist, and
failing when Wataru strikes that perfect spot inside of him that turns his
spine to jelly and his limbs to useless, floppy things. Overstimulated tears
prick into his eyes, and Natsume’s tongue flicks out, tasting Wataru on his
lips, feeling the scrape of those teeth, and his mouth just parts hungrily,
desperate for more kisses. “Wataruuu…that’s so…” Natsume swallows audibly when
his cock throbs, giving an unexpected twitch that leaves him dripping over his
stomach anew.
 
“That’s two.”
 
Wataru presses a kiss to Natsume’s mouth, tasting him deeply, starting to leech
a bit of life out of Natsume, clamping down with his will to force himself to
sip, rather than gulp. It’s just so difficult when Natsume is the sweetest
nectar, more enticing than any food or drink that’s ever passed his lips. To
his senses, Natsume even feels more tasty than when he’d been young, had taken
men and women without a care, drinking them greedily down and caring little of
what he’d left in his wake.
 
Natsume, though…somehow, even those tantalizing little sips, now that he knows
true hunger, satisfy him even more deeply. “How many more,” he murmurs, racing
towards his own pleasure, hands dragging up and down Natsume’s torso, “can I
wring from your body, my love?”
 
Natsume’s head shakes frantically, and he melts down into the bed, just letting
Wataru pull him and push him and fill him again and again with every thrust. No
matter how he moves, how he twists and shifts, it’s just so much, and it forces
his legs to stay apart even when he’d rather wrap Wataru in all four limbs and
cling to him, riding out every lingering spasm that just won’t stop.
 
“D…dunno…” His words slur, catching sloppily on his tongue. “It w-won’t…won’t
stop now…” His eyes squeeze shut, his brow furrowing as he tries to get himself
underneath control, can’t, and whimpers, unsure if he’s squirming to or away
now. “I can feel you drinking from me,” he whispers. “Don’t…don’t stop.”
 
“Beg the sun to rise,” Wataru laughs to himself, pressing in until his hips
press entirely forward, until there’s no space at all between the two of them
for even air. “I couldn’t stop if you begged me.”
 
It’s probably not entirely true—he’s had a lifetime of practicing control,
after all—but it feels true in the moment, feels like he’d die if they ever
needed to separate, even for a millimeter. He doesn’t stop, but his thrusts go
more gentle, easing himself in and out, savoring the sweet rich pleasure he
takes in every rock of his hips. “Can you stand it, a little more?” he
whispers. “If not, let me know, I have other ways to finish.”
 
That slower, smoother pace makes Natsume groan, low and rasping. “If you keep
going like that…t-that’s…that’s the best,” he breathes, his nails slowly
kneading into the warm, solid muscle of Wataru’s back. “I’m gonna die, but…in a
good way…”
 
His cock decides to give another, overstimulated throb, and Natsume’s entire
body tightens, muscles in his thighs twitching as he clings to Wataru with
them. “A really good way,” he gasps, his head rolling back as he shudders.
 
For the first time, Wataru feels something strange—there’s the slow fill of
Natsume’s life force trickling into him, yes, but there’s a sense of his own
flowing the other way, too. Like in the legends, Wataru realizes, startled,
though he keeps that surprise off his face. How embarrassing.
 
Amused with himself, he keeps up the slow pace, happily torturing himself with
gentle rocking motions, feeling the friction drive him insane. Twice, he has to
reapply that twitch of magic, making it slicker, easier inside, until—“I won’t
last,” he groans, hands grabbing hard at Natsume’s hips. “But you want me to
fill you, don’t you? Ask me for it, Kitten—“
 
The way Wataru grabs at him, more than anything, makes Natsume gulp and squeak,
arching even when his body doesn’t seem to want to respond to any other
command. “I want to feel it,” he breathlessly manages, his voice hoarse, tears
and sweat alike streaking down his face. Wataru could ask him for anything
right then, and he’d probably say it, or do it, no matter what it was. “I s-
still remember—the last time, when you came in me—Master, fill me up, please…”
 
Wataru’s thrusts turn erratic, a very human sweat beading around his hairline,
making him tense and tremble, hands grasping at Natsume’s thighs, pressing them
down wide to the bed as he slams in deep. “You’ll never—be empty again.” His
eyes glitter, otherworldly in the dim light. “By the time you’re clean—I’ll be
in you again—from now—on—“
 
That’s all he can manage, before his skin tightens, heat rippling through him,
ripping him apart, and he’s whole again, draining that glorious pleasure from
both of them, filling himself as deeply as he fills Natsume’s searing heat in
thick pulses.
 
Being filled so completely makes Natsume’s eyes glaze, what’s left of his
coherent thought leave him—and gods, that’s glorious. He twitches and groans,
clinging helplessly to Wataru’s back, panting shallowly up towards the ceiling
as sweat sticks them together, the scent of sex—and something like alchemy,
bright and coppery like blood-riddled magic—clinging to his nose.
 
“That’s…so much…” Natsume dazedly says, his eyes fluttering. “Ah…don’t…pull
out, don’t, only when I tell you to…”
 
“My old master would mock me relentlessly for this,” Wataru breathes, eyes
lidded heavily, nuzzling into Natsume’s hair. “But, ah, bear with me…”
 
He braces his weight on one elbow, tracing little patterns on Natsume’s chest,
his own hair spilling wild around them. “How do you feel? Not just physically,
though I am curious about that, as well…”
 
Natsume sucks in a few long, tremulous breaths, his chest heaving slowly
underneath Wataru’s touch until his eyes finally slit open again, glittering
gold in the low light. “Like I was lit on fire and enjoyed it,” he breathes,
his tongue sticking out to wet his lower lip. “That’s weird…right?”
 
That’s good enough to prove a point for Wataru, and he beams, starting to draw
pictures in Natsume’s sweat on his chest, even if only Wataru can see them.
“It’s an old legend, in my people. Mm, stop me if you don’t care, the thing I’d
hate worse than anything is to be considered tedious, I’d rather be beaten
daily for not being forthcoming.”
 
“No, tell me, I want to know.” Natsume sprawls out, wincing at how full he
feels, but still unwilling to be separated if it means Wataru will be this
close to him and more or less stuck to him. “It smells like magic in here. More
than the Shadowlands kind, you know what I mean.” 
 
“Of course. I’m not a Shadebred.” Wataru smiles, and leans down to press a kiss
to Natsume’s cheek, just because he can. “There’s a legend, among our Elders. I
only heard it as a young man, since my education as a child was…less thorough,
than most. It says that when we partake of someone’s life essence—don’t worry,
it grows back—that a truly open heart is vulnerable to letting it go both ways.
Why, some said that if one of us were truly in love, their human lover could
even feed upon them, isn’t that incredible?”
 
Natsume’s brow furrows as he flips that around in his mind rather than settling
on being embarrassed. “That sounds like…like a bond? Doesn’t it?”
 
Wataru’s lip curls just slightly, back from his teeth. “I…don’t think it’s the
same thing,” he finally manages. “At least, I don’t believe it is. I hope it
isn’t. To force you to be tethered to me for eternity…well. I wouldn’t wish
that on most enemies, let alone on someone I cherish.”
 
“I’d love to be tied to you forever, are you insane?” Natsume’s stare is
bright, and he shoves himself up onto his elbows, staring directly into
Wataru’s eyes. “You’re the strongest, smartest, most amazing person I know—even
if it’s not a bond…not the same kind, it’s even better, because it’s something
no one else can have with you.”
 
Wataru’s mouth falls open in surprise, then snaps shut with an audible click.
This, for better or worse, is not exactly what he had expected, when he’d taken
Tsumugi’s brokenhearted lover left behind into his bed. They were both broken
pieces, yes, but who would have expected them to fit together so well? “You
spoil this fey creature, Natsume,” he says softly. “It isn’t necessary. I’m
already yours.”
 
Natsume smacks him across the cheek—gently, this time, with barely a sound to
go with it. “I’m not spoiling you,” he quietly says. “I’m just saying what I
feel. If that feels like spoiling, then I’m gonna really need to spoil you
later.”
 
Wataru nestles down into the bed, wrapping his arms around Natsume. “Spoil me
by going into the Everyouth Valley to cure my plague. And you’ll have to do it
soon, of course. The more we do this, the less human you’ll be.”
 
Natsume blinks at that, and butts his face into Wataru’s chest, inhaling
deeply. The smell of sweat, sex, and magic is apparently very alluring. “I’m
going to cure you for sure, but…that doesn’t sound like a bad thing, to be less
human. I could be less human, and then I’ll live longer with you, right?”
 
“One assumes. I’ve never heard of this actually happening before, you
understand.” Wataru hesitates, but more out of habit than genuine concern.
“Cloudbred rarely take long-term pets, let alone consorts.”
 
“I can be an exception.” Natsume’s eyes gleam, and he grabs at handfuls of
Wataru’s hair, tugging on it lightly. “I’m gonna be. I’m not just a human,
anyway, I’m the youngest Nightcloak ever. No one else will ever be a good as
me.”
 
“Do you know,” Wataru says, not pausing in his slow, careful tracing of
patterns, “I do believe that. If anyone could tame me to bridle, well…I never
thought it would be you. But now, who else could it have been?”
 
“But I don’t want to put a bridle on you. Sounds boring.” Natsume shoves his
face firmly into Wataru’s neck. “You can just go and I’ll be latched on for the
ride.”
 
“Ah, little Kitten…” Wataru gathers him closer, eyes drooping closed. “What a
ride it will be.”
***** Chapter 37 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Getting permission before doing things isn’t new to Souma. He’s done it his
whole life, practicing obedience to his family, his elders, his teachers,
everyone who he’s thought higher-up than he. Doing what Rei wants is little
different, especially when the man is so careful not to give him any reckless
or cruel orders.
 
Doing as a Hakaze says, though…that is just intolerable.
 
The man orders him around as if he has the right, and knows exactly which
buttons to press to get his desired reactions. Finally, Souma snaps, getting
permission from Rei to ride at the head of the column, taking the night watch
as the caravan lumbers behind them.
 
Most of the caravan is made of merchants. It would be more suspect, they’d
said, to travel as a small group of dangerous men, than it would to travel as
part of a much larger group. Chiaki, Subaru, and Arashi ride as caravan guards,
Rei as a wealthy jeweler, Souma and (to his displeasure) Kaoru as his
retainers. For now, Souma leaves them behind, riding to the front of the
column, night air streaming past his face. During the day, someone is usually
singing, laughing, joking, or arguing. Just now, everything is silent, except
for the clop of hooves on packed earth.
 
Surprisingly, Souma isn’t alone at the front. Kanata is there as well, on a
borrowed horse from High Harbor’s stables, a tall and lanky creature with noble
lines. A pang shoots through Souma’s heart at the thought of his own horse,
left behind in the Hinterlands. He rides for a moment quietly, then brings his
own borrowed mount into step with Kanata’s, clearing his throat. “Ah…good
evening, Milord Kanata.”
 
Kanata’s head lifts as he blinks in surprise, startled that he’s being spoken
to. For the most part, he’s been left to drift amongst his own thoughts—even
Rei seems to grow tired of his constant mentions of missing the ocean, and
Kanata supposes that’s fair. It would be nice, to fit in so nicely with humans
like that. Even his hair doesn’t fit in, tied back in a ribbon at the back of
his neck and also stuffed underneath a cloak to hide it. One odd-haired member
of the group is already too many, what with Izumi being a veritable beacon.
“Souma…was it?” he settles upon, barely resisting the urge to lick his lips. He
can’t help it if he’s hungry, but… “Did you…need something?”
 
Souma shakes his head. “I apologize for interrupting your obvious solitude,
Milord Kanata. If you wish to slumber in your carriage, I’ll execute the duty
of the night watch with all of my power. It…it would be an honor to serve you,
even in so small a way.”
 
Kanata stares at him for a moment longer before slowly leaning over, reaching
out, and yanking on Souma’s ponytail. “…You speak…far too formally. I’m…not the
Queen. That’s my mother. So don’t.”
 
Souma’s eyes fly open, and he swallows hard. “Ah, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to
make you unhappy. Ah, what should I call you then, Milord?”
 
“Kanata. Just Kanata.” Kanata’s fingers remain entrenched in Souma’s hair, not
letting it go just yet. “Your line…is very pure. I can tell.”
 
Souma bobs his head, as much as he can when he’s being held fast. His pulse
throbs in his throat, quick and light, torn between excitement and anxiety. “Y-
yes, we’ve worked quite hard over hundreds of years to keep it pure, it’s…we’re
the last pure line in the realm, I believe. All thanks to your kind, of course!
The children of my house—we’re raised to praise you with our every breath and
deed.”
 
“Silly. That’s silly.” Kanata releases him after another moment, though his
nails take a few strands of hair with him. “My clan…these days…many of them
would just see you as a meal.”
 
That gives Souma pause, far more than the light stinging in his scalp. He
frowns, then asks, “What tales do they tell of the Exodus, then? In your
people? I thought you were immortal, and memories would stay crystal-clear for
the ages.”
 
“I’m twenty-five.” Kanata’s stare is a half-lidded one. “Your kind…left the
isles a thousand years ago, did you not…? My mother…she likes to tell the
story, sometimes, about how your great-great-great-great-great-great—“ He
pauses for a breath. “Great-great-great-grandfather…stole her sea turtle.”
 
Souma freezes. His eyes widen so far that the whites are visible the whole way
around the irises, and his hands clench tightly on the reins. “W-what?
That’s—that’s not what they tell us at all! That’s—no, no, my ancestors would
never have done anything like that! They would have happily killed themselves
rather than commit that sort of dishonor!”
 
“Ahh…now you’re saying my mother is a liar…? She’s the Queen of the Sea, you
know…”
 
All the remaining blood drains from Souma’s face. “Is it possible…we’ve been
lied to? For a thousand years? I must make it right at once! Please, take my
life in penance for my ancestors!”
 
“Don’t say that…or I will eat you, and Rei says I can’t,” Kanata laments,
leaning back with a sigh. “I’m teasing you…you make good faces. Your
grandfather stole a turtle, but it was the bad one that my mother didn’t
like…so it’s okay. And the next week, my clan helped the rivers part for your
Exodus and gave you more turtles, so…in the end…was it really stealing…?”
 
All of Souma’s breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he sags forward over his
borrowed horse’s mane in relief. “Ah…I see. The intricacies of the ocean are
mysterious, truly.” He smiles, suddenly cheerful and boyish, eyes shining up at
Kanata. “If all of your people are as beautiful as you, I see why my honored
ancestors thought they were gods.”
 
“…You’re a good child,” Kanata slowly settles upon. “I think…I’m rather plain,
next to my mother…but thank you.” He pauses, contemplating if he should ask,
then deciding it’s worth risking Rei’s irritation. “Why are you traveling…with
Rei?”
 
“Oh, I belong to him.” It’s said without any hint of hesitation or shame. “To
keep bloodlines pure, only the eldest son can inherit, and my brother is
already taking care of the estate,” Souma explains. “My sister was to be
married to a foreign Lord, but she died of illness, and rather than breaking
the covenant, they were going to send me as a bhenda bride—but didn’t tell my
intended, and instead attempted to send me as a woman!” He huffs, folding his
arms in front of his chest. “So I ran away rather than shame my ancestry. Then
Milord Rei had me in his bed, so I belong to him now, to do with as he pleases.
Hopefully I am not too much of a disappointment.”
 
“You know…that he’s a sex wizard, right…?” Kanata gently presses, unable to
outright scold this child for being so obviously…removed from the situations
around him. He’s very cute, and young, and all kinds of clueless. “And
he’s…hmm.” Would Rei tell someone he’s obviously stringing along that he’s
bonded? Kanata isn’t sure. How annoying.
 
Souma shrugs. “The amount of people he’s had doesn’t affect my duty. I chose to
give myself to him, so I will gladly accept the consequences. I just hope I can
be of some service. And…” A shy little smile stretches his lips. “And coming
with him allowed me to see the ocean, the greatest dream of my life. I could
ask for no more.”
 
Kanata’s line of thinking quickly switches trajectories. “That…was your
greatest dream?” he asks, genuinely surprised. “Then…you could have stayed in
High Harbor, I bet, if you asked…the sea there is the best of all.”
 
“But my lord was leaving,” Souma says, head cocking to the side. “How could I
stay when he’s leaving? My honor would never allow it.”
 
“Maybe…I don’t understand how that works,” Kanata says with a little shrug.
“But very little could take me…from the sea…willingly. My clan sent me away,
and I’m still angry…”
 
Souma is quiet for a long moment. In the little motion of Kanata’s riding,
forward and back on the horse, he can almost hear the ocean. “It must…be very
lonely,” he offers. “I left voluntarily, and I still miss my family a great
deal. We are…an insular people. So the outside world has not been…what I
thought it would be. But I’ll do my best, of course!”
 
“What if he never lets you go back home?” Kanata softy asks. “Rei, he’s…a very
important man, you know…and he doesn’t like going North.”
 
“…I don’t think I’ll ever go home.” Souma lifts one shoulder, and lets it fall.
“I am not pleased with the choices they made, and doubtless they feel I have
shamed them. Being in Milord Rei’s employ is the most honorable position I
could hope for, in my current state. Men of my line—we are expected to adhere
to certain standards of purity.”
 
“I don’t understand…human ‘purity’,” Kanata cheerfully says, a shrug of his own
following. “Your kind are silly…some fish mate for life…but…not most…and even
when they do, the seed of others can still fertilize their eggs~…and you’re
male…so…it reeeeally shouldn’t matter…”
 
“But adhering to strict rules that go beyond biological imperatives is what
gives us honor,” Souma declares, clenching a fist, trying to ignore the little
spike of heat that goes through him when Kanata talks about fertilization—get
it together, Kanzaki.“Everyone needs a calling and a duty, no?”
 
“Ummm…I suppose…?” Kanata blinks slowly at him. “Maybe because I don’t have
that…other than Chiaki…that’s why my clan thinks I’m weeeird…”
 
“They’re wrong! I think you’re wonderful!” Souma’s face lights up, impassioned.
“I’ve always dreamed—since I was a child, I’ve heard the stories of the Great
Old Ones, including the Sea King, who parted the rivers and led us to freedom
from our Island enslavement, on the backs of the giant sea turtles. And in
return, we’ve guarded the river’s mouth, keeping all the water running to the
sea pure, for a thousand years. How could anyone from a clan so generous and
giving be less than perfect?”
 
“…You’re a good child,” Kanata says again, listing to the side in his saddle to
pat Souma’s head. “But…just because my clan helped you…doesn’t mean they’re
kind. And I’m part human…and a wizard…those things don’t make sense to
them…so…’perfect’…isn’t a word for me, I think…”
 
“Be that as it may—for someone so young, you clearly have unknown knowledge of
the ocean,” Souma protests, totally undeterred. “It would be quite a boon if
you told me some things about it. Ah, if you’re too homesick, I would never
impose, of course…”
 
“…No one else here really wants to hear about it.” Kanata settles back, a faint
smile slowly curving his lips. “But…if you want to hear…I can tell you…until
you’re sick of it, at least…”
 
Souma nods, almost frantically. “As long as you don’t mind telling me. Ah,
sometimes I can accompany a minstrel on the flute, would that satisfy you?”
 
“You’re going to listen to me talk and like it, or I’m going to eat you no
matter what Rei says.”
 
“That sounds very fair, Milord Kanata!”
***** Chapter 38 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
A day’s ride from the Sandlands, and everything abruptly dries up.
 
Rei has taken this exact same route hundreds of times in the past (maybe even
thousands—how old is he? he forgets), and he remembers this part painfully
well. It’s when horses start to be a burden, soldiers start to become agitated
about their water rations, and inns become infrequent on the road as forests
dry up into sparse, rolling hills of dirt and eventually, nothing but sand.
 
Which means it’s time for him to take his leave, of course, but…
 
In the late evening, there’s little activity about their camp, save for the
restless kicking of Izumi’s hobbled mare. Rei absently pets her on the nose as
he passes by, receiving not a bite, but a pleased nudge in response, and
carries on his way no matter his weariness. Traveling by night means clear
roads and fewer questions, and, hmm, if he’s smart, maybe he should steal that
mare right out from underneath Izumi’s nose, if only because she’s faster (and
undoubtedly, far more responsive to someone like him).
 
First things first, he quietly slinks past the carriage Kanata curls up within
at night, and flips open the latch with a wave of a finger. Kanata, wide awake,
stares back at him with his eyes glowing an unholy green in the dim light,
perched perhaps a pace from Chiaki’s sleeping form.
 
“Hungry,” he grumpily ‘greets’ Rei. “And so…so…dry.”
 
“The desert is like that,” Rei softly says, pulling himself inside and
reclining back into Kanata’s bed. “Wake him up and eat, then.”
 
“No…too many people.” Still, Kanata stretches out a hand to pet Chiaki’s hair.
“I won’t eat you all the way~…not yeeet…”
 
Kanata’s hand on his hair wakes Chiaki from a wild dream, and he surfaces with
a slow intake of breath, looking up into Kanata’s clear blue eyes. His mouth
curves into a soft smile, and he lays his hand on top of Kanata’s, squeezing
it, not needing words. He knows he saved me as much as I saved him, that day.
 
Several heartbeats later, he notices Rei, and begrudgingly lets go of Kanata’s
hand, sitting up under his thin blanket. “Sorry, Excellency. Didn’t mean to
sleep when someone could need me. Is there something I should be doing?”
 
“Ah, not particularly. But you’re the man that’s been loyal to my kind the
longest here, so I thought I’d share my next move with you and you only.” Rei
plops his chin down into his hand, his eyes lidded and glowing red in the dim
light. “I’ll be leaving tonight. My plans don’t involve the rest of this little
group, but to avoid any distress on your part, I’ll be leaving a charm that
allows you to contact me as needed, with Kanata’s help.”
 
Chiaki frowns, and slowly nods his head. “I figured you had some things going
on that you couldn’t tell me about. Are you taking any bodyguards with you? I
know you’re quite powerful, but you’re only one person. If I can be of any
help…”
 
“Mm, I’m going alone, but Kaoru also knows my plans, and will be leaving later
to meet up with me. And I’ll probably steal Izumi’s horse, so extend my
apologies to him in the morning for me, would you?” Rei says with a soft laugh.
His eyes slide unhelpfully up the curve of Chiaki’s shoulder, to the juncture
of his neck, and he says, because he can’t bite his tongue, “If you want to
help, let me feed.”
 
Kanata growls, low and possessive, and Rei sighs, helplessly lifting a hand.
“Sorry, sorry, too much, I know. I’m suffering, though—a completely pure, warm-
blooded human is so hard to find these days…”
 
Chiaki pats Kanata’s hand, giving him a brief smile. “Thank you, Kanata, but
he’s my liege lord. If he needs to, it’s not a problem, right? We both want him
to be healthy.”
 
“Rei…gets too nippy,” Kanata grumpily says, scooting closer to Chiaki and
curling his arms around him. “Don’t wanna share.”
 
The mistake now is that Chiaki has offered, and Rei can’t shake that from his
mind. He sits up, crawling over, his eyes glittering as his tongue flicks out
to absently run over the tips of his own fangs. “I won’t bite hard,” he
murmurs, hooking a finger into the collar of Chiaki’s shirt. If he tugs, it
reveals the bite still obvious on Chiaki’s shoulder from Kanata’s own
enthusiastic munching. “Well, unless you want that.”
 
Chiaki looks up at Rei, and feels an unaccustomed flush creep across his
cheeks. Then he looks over at Kanata, eyes locking with his as he reaches up,
unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. “Ask him,” he says softly. “I
gave him my life a long time ago, it’s up to him what I do with it.”
 
Kanata’s lips purse, and he curls his arms around Chiaki’s waist from behind,
pulling his back firmly into his chest. “Chiaki…is mine,” he firmly says.
“But…if Rei needs a little taste…”
 
Rei beams, immediately lurching forward to climb between Chiaki’s legs, now
effectively trapping him between Kanata and himself. “I’ll be nice,” he
breathes, running one finger along the arc of Chiaki’s neck. “Don’t worry, I’m
not interested in taking him from you. I would never dream of doing that.”
 
A slow shiver makes its way through Chikai’s body. It’s always been this way,
with him. He’s never quite understood the way people talk about how many times
they bed down with their lovers every week, as if it’s something that one could
possibly get enough of, no matter how long one lives. With him, the more he’s
satisfied, the hungrier he gets, and he’s never been so insatiable as when he
has Kanata at his side day in and day out. It’s a constant struggle, not to ask
for more than his lover is willing to give, to not act as if he’s somehow
unsatisfied—but just the tip of Rei’s finger makes his entire posture shift,
head tilting to expose his neck. “I trust you, Excellency,” he says quietly,
and tries to keep his voice steady.
 
That’s as much as Rei can stand before he strikes, his teeth immediately
sinking into the column of Chiaki’s throat. Blood immediately wells from where
his fangs pierce that taunt skin, and Rei sucks it up with a groan, his hands
sliding up Chiaki’s thighs as he shifts closer, drinking deeply—though true to
his word, no more than strictly necessary.
 
It takes effort to pry himself off, and his lips are stained red, his eyes
glazed and cheeks flushed as his tongue drags over the bite mark. “You
really…have a lovely taste to you,” he murmurs, scooting closer.
 
Kanata’s eyes are dilated, distracted now by the scent of blood, and he can’t
stop from nuzzling his own face into the side of Chiaki’s neck, his tongue
flicking out to run over where Rei bit as well. “That’s because…Chiaki is
perfect,” he breathes. “And mine.”
 
All the air leaves Chiaki’s lungs in a huff, and his eyes flutter for a second
before his mind catches up, sputtering facts—Rei has had his fill, but he’s
still here, still close, still grabbing his thighs, and Kanata’s mouth is on
his neck. That’s enough to make him gasp, looking back and forth between the
two of them. “A-ah, that’s right,” he says, a little uncertainly. “Ah, was
that…satisfying?” His voice wavers a little, which he thinks is fine, since
most of his effort is spent hoping Rei won’t slide his hands any farther up and
notice his body’s reaction to that sudden, intimate pain.
 
“The problem with snacks sometimes is that it makes you even hungrier for a
proper meal,” Rei sighs, switching to the other side of Chiaki’s neck, where
his teeth lightly nip into his earlobe. His hands slink up further, one of
which casually palms right between Chiaki’s legs as his tongue drags over the
shell of his ear. “You don’t react like a human,” he murmurs, amused. “You
react like you’ve got a sliver of drake in you, maybe.”
 
“Chiaki…apparently keeps up with one…well enough.” Kanata’s voice is breathy,
obviously excited now more than annoyed. Maybe that’s Rei’s influence, or maybe
he’s just calming down now that he realizes Rei isn’t going to do anything that
he really dislikes. He shifts, his own hardening cock rubbing against Chiaki
from behind. “Reiiii…your magic always does this, you did this on purpose…”
 
“Maybe,” Rei cheerfully says, grinning as a hand skims up and gently pinches
one of Chiaki’s nipples. “I can’t stop it now, that’s how it is.”
 
Chiaki wonders, in a vague, overheated way, whether this is what a rabbit feels
like the second he sees the shadow of a falcon exploding in size above it.
Kanata’s hands are strong and familiar, the press of his body something he’s
never been able to pull away from, and Rei’s are precise and confident, driving
him to pant and squirm already. Kanata never teases him, Izumi always just
takes what he wants, but Rei’s glinting eyes and plucking fingers tells him
that he’s in for an…unusual evening.
 
He licks his lips, and makes a decision, leaning back against Kanata. As long
as Kanata’s here, it doesn’t matter. As long as Kanata’s here, he can do
anything, be anything, and he grins. “Well…if that’s the way it is, then I
won’t lose in enthusiasm—ahh!” One pinch of his nipple makes his cock twitch
hard, stealing his breath, making his back arch. “They’re…sensitive, just so
you…know…”
 
Rei’s fingers swiftly make work of the buttons of Chiaki’s shirt, and his cool
palms swiftly follow over his skin afterwards. “Good,” he murmurs, slowly
rolling another nipple between his fingers as he sucks on the side of Chiaki’s
neck. His weight shifts forward, a thigh pressing between Chiaki’s legs against
his cock. “Just watching you enjoy yourself…that really does it for me, you
know?”
 
“Rei’s calmed down a lot now, huh?” Kanata fairly purrs, nuzzling into Chiaki’s
hair as his hips absently grind forward. “Nnhh, Chiakiii…it feels good when he
plays with you, huh…”
 
Only the thought of someone seeing him like this—their fearless commander, the
man tasked with protecting them all, wriggling between two eldritch
creatures—keeps Chiaki from making a very loud noise. His thighs clench down
around Rei’s, giving him the leverage to rub slowly against that hard muscle,
his cock already straining in the loose trousers he wears for sleep while
traveling.
 
One hand braces him on the bedroll, the other reaching back to grab Kanata’s
arm for comfort as he grinds slowly forward, savoring that much friction. It’s
one thing to do this with Izumi when Kanata is gone. That had been simple
stress relief, though he likes Izumi quite a lot. This, though…
 
Kanata can see him.
 
That more than anything makes him twitch, looking up into Rei’s glowing eyes,
biting his own lip as another shudder of arousal rips through him starting at
Rei’s fingertips, flaring hot in his neck. He’s overheated, but wallows in it,
groaning, “K-Kanata…you’re…nnh, tell me how to show off…so you’ll like it…”
 
Kanata’s lips part, his tongue wetting them as he glances briefly to Rei.
“Rei’s…better at things like that,” he softly says, and Rei takes the hint, his
hands firm on Chiaki’s hips as he pulls back, but only long enough to neatly
flip him around.
 
“This is better, hmm?” Rei’s fingers toy with Chiaki’s nipples a moment longer,
lightly pinching, then pulling. He leans forward, his cock rubbing against the
curve of Chiaki’s ass as he pulls Kanata’s hand to Chiaki’s hair. “If you keep
your mouth busy elsewhere, Captain, no one’s going to hear the noises you want
to make,” he breathes into Chiaki’s ear.
 
Chiaki settles himself on his hands and knees, finding his balance as he ducks
his head, grateful for the shift. It’s much easier to hide his face like this,
and easier still to keep quiet as he reaches for Kanata. He hasn’t done this as
often as he’d like, mostly because both of them get too excited any time he
tries, and they wind up doing it the other way instead.
 
Now, with Rei toying with him so much he feels as if he’ll come without a
single real touch to his cock, he feels himself salivating, tugging at the
bottom of Kanata’s nightshirt, not even looking up for permission before he
ducks his head down, opening wide to suck the head into his mouth. The taste is
already strong, enough to make him whimper around the thick head, and he has to
reach down and grab his own cock tightly around the base to keep from losing
himself too quickly.
 
Kanata inhales sharply, sagging back onto a hand as his thighs splay further
apart. “Chiakiii…” His fingers twist up into Chiaki’s hair as his cock twitches
against that warm, wet tongue, and he shivers as his hips twitch up on their
own accord, sliding further down his throat. “You’re…that’s…”
 
Rei idly unravels the cord from his hair, letting it tumble down his back and
over his shoulders as he reaches around, batting Chiaki’s hands away from his
cock. “You don’t get to come yet,” he says against Chiaki’s neck as he leans
forward, long, careful fingers tying the cord around the base of his cock once
he yanks Chiaki’s trousers down to his knees. “You’re our plaything for now,
aren’t you? That’s a good boy.”
 
Chiaki’s eyes open wide at the sudden spike of unfamiliar sensation, squeezed
tight at the base of his cock. Then, the nearly panicky sensation of needing to
come starts to recede, just a little, without taking with it any of the achy,
trembly heat rippling through him. He pulls off of Kanata’s cock for a moment,
letting it rest against his cheek, hand letting go of his own to curl around
the base of Kanata’s cock. Rei’s words don’t make it any easier to keep
control, not when he’s already shivering at the feel of Kanata’s cock leaving a
wet smear on his face. “I…”
 
But anything he could say is too embarrassing, everything he wants to say even
worse, so he just shifts his knees apart on the floor, letting his back arch as
he dives back down, laving every bit of Kanata’s cock he can reach with the
flat of his tongue, sucking on the head with urgent, wet little noises.
 
Kanata whimpers, clamping a hand over his own mouth to keep himself quiet when
Chiaki’s mouth makes his hips buck forward, trembling fingers yanking on his
hair to keep his head down. “Chiaki’s…really good at this part…” he pants out
between his fingers, his eyes glazing. “Reiii, you should…”
 
“Mm, mm, I’m not going to be able to help myself,” Rei says with a breathless
little laugh, uncorking a bottle of oil pulled from his waist with his teeth.
The scent fills the still air, heady and highly fragrant, and he pours it over
his fingers before a pair of them slide against Chiaki’s hole. “You’re so hot
here,” he says, leaning forward and bracing on one hand as his fingers sink
inside, immediately stroking, curling, spreading wider to open up Chiaki’s body
to him. “There’s nothing better than that…ahh, it must be nice to be taken care
of like this, huh…?”
 
Rei’s words are like magical caresses, wrapping around him and driving him to a
higher level of arousal, a fever ripping through Chiaki’s body. His toes curl,
arms quavering with the effort of holding him up, and his attentions to
Kanata’s cock get sloppier, less accurate, but no less enthusiastic. It feels
enormous in his mouth, bigger than it does when it’s in other parts of him, and
breathing gets difficult. Or maybe it just feels difficult when Rei is stirring
his body up like this, stretching his hole in a way that makes his cock twitch
painfully against its binding.
 
Chiaki blinks tears from his eyes, looking up to meet Kanata’s. Being filled at
both ends, even if it’s just a couple of Rei’s fingers, makes him feel like
he’s on the very precipice of ecstasy, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt
that if Rei removed the hairtie, he’d spill himself immediately.
 
“Chiaki looks…so good like this,” Kanata whispers, rubbing a thumb over one of
Chiaki’s flushed cheeks, trembling as he struggles not to shove himself deeper
down Chiaki’s throat when Rei’s fingers sink in so deeply. His fingers drag
through Chiaki’s hair, pulling him off, just for a moment, to catch his breath.
“You can have it back…once he’s in you, Chiaki~…”
 
“I won’t keep you waiting, then.” Rei bends, pressing a kiss to the back of
Chiaki’s neck, sucking gently before he draws his hand back, pouring more oil
over the length of his cock. The head rubs against that slick, twitching hole
before pressing inside, sinking in easily, spreading Chiaki wide as he rocks
forward in one long, fluid thrust. “There,” he groans, his hands closing around
Chiaki’s hips, squeezing, pulling him back.
 
The low rumble of magic shifts to a sharper crackle that makes Kanata’s breath
hitch, and his fingers twist up into Chiaki’s hair anew, pulling him forward
again. “Chiaki—please—“
 
It’s a good thing Kanata had pulled him off, since the first breech of Rei’s
thick cock sliding into him makes Chiaki clench his teeth, gasping at the
sudden stretch. His eyes roll back in his head, everything oversensitive, his
skin tingling with heat, balls drawn up tight against his body.
 
He fumbles for words—often does, when he’s overstimulated like this—but the
best thing of all is that neither Kanata or Rei seem to want him to be in
control, neither of them need him to say anything. If anything, they seem
happier to have him as their silent, compliant toy, a thought that nearly makes
him burst the tie on his cock with how much he swells.
 
Obediently, trying to think around the swarm of sensations overwhelming him
when Rei slides deep into him, he rocks forward, pawing at Kanata’s thighs,
sliding the warm heat of his mouth onto Kanata’s pulsing cock again. It’s heavy
with taste now, salty as the sea when it leaks over his tongue, just that hint
of bitterness overwhelming his senses as he greedily swallows, over and over.
 
Rei bends forward over him, his mouth hot against Chiaki’s back, kissing and
sucking wherever he can reach as he grinds forward, slow and thorough, barely
pulling out with each thrust. “You’re being such a good boy,” is his low,
rumbling praise against Chiaki’s skin, one hand circling around to thumb over
his nipples, feeling the hard numbs almost tremble underneath his touch from
overstimulation.
 
Kanata’s breath hiccups when Chiaki’s mouth wraps around him again, and he
shoves forward, sliding deep down Chiaki’s throat with each thrust. It’s so
much—too much, especially with that low, buzzing magic making his own vision
blur and his own skin too hot, making him squirm where he kneels. “Chiaki—I’m—“
 
That’s the last bit of warning Kanata gives before he comes with a ragged gasp,
pulling on Chiaki’s hair, holding him down. Rei pauses, raking his hair back
from his face, a finger tracing a droplet of sweat that curves its way down
Chiaki’s spine. “Make sure you swallow all of that up,” he murmurs, stroking
Chiaki’s back. “Then I’ll take care of you.”
 
The shudder that rakes through Chaiki is so strong it’s visible, his whole body
quaking with urgent, desperate lust when Rei stuffs him full. The words swallow
all of that up sound good, go straight to his straining cock so strongly it
hurts, and he swallows enthusiastically tongue working to lap up everything he
can reach, but there’s so much. It spills over his lips, dripping back down
onto Kanata’s cock as he swallows what feels like several mouthfuls, until the
thick, sticky texture coats every part of his mouth, lips, tongue, teeth. He
coughs, eyes glazing as he looks up, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, blissed out
with every thrust of Rei deep inside of him. “P…lease…” he breathes, closer to
a whine than anything, clinging to Kanata with trembling hands. “P-please, I
need to—I have to come, please—“
 
Kanata bends swiftly, yanking Chiaki up to kiss him hard, his tongue
mercilessly licking up whatever Chiaki missed. “It’s okay, it’s okaaay,” he
breathes, his face flushed, fingers trembling as he pets Chiaki’s hair. “Rei’s
gonna take care of you…”
 
“Whenever you want, you can,” Rei breathlessly tells him, his fingers swiftly
unraveling the tie around Chiaki’s cock. He hears Chiaki’s pulse so strongly in
his ears that it’s almost deafening, and he groans as he lurches forward,
setting his teeth to Chiaki’s shoulder—not over Kanata’s bite mark, he would
never—before thrusting in hard, taking his own pleasure as swiftly as he wants
Chiaki to have his own.
 
Chiaki had thought he’d come the second the tie is removed, but the shock of
blood flowing back into his cock after so many long minutes is more startling
than erotic, and he cries out, only barely managing to muffle it into Kanata’s
thigh.
 
Now that he has his breath, it’s easier to brace himself, all the better to
rock back onto Rei’s thick cock, the taste of Kanata still heavy on his tongue.
His skin still prickles and tingles, and the ecstasy threatens to overtake him,
especially when—
 
He bites his lip, then shifts his back, urging Rei to an angle that—
 
One strike over that perfect spot and Chiaki yelps, hands balling in the
blanket. “M-more, right, right there, I’m almost—I’m—hard, please please
harder—“
 
Rei obliges, bracing his knees harder into Chiaki’s bedroll, his hands tightly
wrapped about Chiaki’s waist, yanking him back onto his cock when he grinds
forward, harder, faster, at exactly the angle that Chiaki’s arched back directs
him. “You’re asking so nicely,” he groans, sweat dripping down the back of his
neck as his own cock throbs inside, the clench of Chiaki around him so tight
and sweet that it makes him shudder from head to toe. “Go on, Captain—be good
for me, come on my cock—“
 
That accuracy is deadly accurate, striking the most delicious point deep inside
Chiaki’s body, and when it’s being done by someone tall and strong with a deep
voice and firm hands that hold him in place, Chiaki can do nothing but delight
in it.
 
He groans, unable to keep it down now, closing his eyes to luxuriate in the
sensations washing through his body like crashing waves. Pleasure rips through
him, as his cock jerks and spills in a long stream, splattering out so hard it
arcs up and hits his chest before dripping to the blanket.
 
Even after, he keeps shoving himself back, mindlessly searching for more of
that sensation, knuckles popping as he clutches the blanket, mouth open, drool
trailing from his lip, eyes rolling back into his head. Finally, he shudders,
and his front half collapses down to the bed, the other half of him still
insistently pushing back.
 
“Easy, easy…Chiaki did so well, what a good boy…” Kanata whispers, petting
Chiaki’s hair as Rei thrusts in through that release, through every twitch and
spasm and arch of Chiaki’s body.
 
It doesn’t take long, not when Chiaki is trembling and squirming around him.
Skin slaps lewdly against skin, sticking to one another as Rei bends forward,
braced over Chiaki with one hand and biting down into his fist with the other,
his fangs breaking the skin of his own hand as he spills deep inside, pulse
after pulse filling Chiaki. He shivers from head to toe, the taste of his own
blood the only thing that keeps him firmly rooted to reality when what follows
isn’t anywhere close to the actual relief of an orgasm, but instead, the
thudding, pounding pulse of magic through his veins. “There,” he finally
manages to pant out, releasing his own hand from his teeth. “Ah…gods, you
really are fun, aren’t you…”
 
Chiaki looks back over his shoulder through bleary eyes, blinking slowly as a
smile spreads across his face. “Thank you,” he says, very honestly. “That
was…really, really enjoyable.”
 
Then he slumps down, mouthing a kiss to Kanata’s thigh, hand dropping to
between his legs. “Ah…does it stay hard, or—I could maybe go again, if you need
to? I don’t know much about your species, sorry, but I won’t lose on energy!”
 
“Don’t,” Kanata firmly says, grabbing up Chiaki’s face in his hands and
smooshing his cheeks firmly, “encourage him. He can’t stop if you do that.”
 
“He’s right,” Rei airily says, slowly, carefully pulling out and flopping
backwards with a sigh. “And as much as I’d love to stay and do this all night,
that so defeats the purpose of my plans…”
 
Chiaki curls up after that, relaxing in a way that he rarely can after going
just once, head pillowed on Kanata’s perfect thigh. Rei is big, and he feels
far more stretched out than usual, along with the odd sensation that he’d
recently been so full and is now emptier than usual somehow. “Don’t let me keep
you, then. Be safe, Excellency.”
 
Then he turns to face Kanata, eyes shimmering. “You liked that, right? You
aren’t angry?”
 
“Chiaki’s still mine,” Kanata says happily, pitching forward to grab at Chiaki
and squish him in his arms. “Rei was good…and didn’t bite where I bit…so
everyone can still know you’re mine~…mmnn, and Chiaki smells like me still…”
 
Rei’s lips twitch into a faint smile, and he slowly rises, fastening his
clothes. “Have a nice evening,” he says, and flips Kanata a single coin,
glowing faintly in the darkness before it fades to something that looks
entirely normal. “Keep that, and you’ll be able to contact me—once and only
once, though. Bear in mind I’ll be quite busy.”
 
“We’ll manage,” Chiaki assures him. “Take care of yourself, Excellency. Ah, you
should at least take my messenger boy, he’s very fast at running. Then you’ll
have a way to contact us should you need anything.”
 
“Not necessary, but thank you.” Rei bends, scooping up his discarded hair tie
with a smile as he turns to leave. “Until we meet again, my friends.”
 
And with that, he disappears into the night, brimming with power (and pleased
about stealing a good horse).
***** Chapter 39 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Leo, son of the Crown Prince, youngest born of an ancient line, future ruler of
the entire realm, does not like baths. He does, however, enjoy slipping away
from his tutors, nannies, and governesses alike, enjoying hearing their shrieks
of annoyance when he dodges nimbly down the hall in search of adventure.
 
Adventure never takes him to the same place twice. Today, it leads him down the
road to his horse, already saddled for his afternoon’s riding lesson (he’s just
early, it still counts). From the Palace, it’s only an hour to the Academy, or
so he’s heard. It takes him more like two hours, because he has to stop and
investigate several strange roadside protrusions alone the way.
 
Once he arrives, he’s delighted. It’s quiet, it’s secretive, it’s everything he
wants to learn about, and it’s full of little nooks and crannies for a six year
old, short for his years, to explore.
 
It takes him hours to scramble everywhere he wants to go, before he comes
across a conversation that is finally not boring. The participants are two men,
tall and handsome, one dark and one light. The more Leo listens, the more
engrossed he gets, until the dark-haired man finally storms out, fists
clenched.
 
Not long after, curiosity gets the better of Leo, and he crawls out from his
hiding place in the dumbwaiter tunnel, hands blistered and grimy from the
cables. “Hi,” he says, by way of introducing himself to the tall, light-haired
man. “What’s Inglings?”
 
Eichi jumps in surprise, startled into nearly dropping the cup of tea he’s been
nursing throughout this conversation. He sets it down in short order, staring
at the very small new arrival, takes in the sight of his hair, and settles upon
immediately: “Your…Highness? I wasn’t aware your father brought you here
today.”
 
“I’m not Highness,” Leo corrects. “My dad is Your Highness. I’m just Your
Grace.” He hops up onto a high-backed chair, legs swinging back and forth as he
stares up at the man. “You’re a wizard, right? That’s awesome! What’s an
Inglings?”
 
“Forgive me, human hierarchy is far from my specialty.” Or rather, it’s that he
doesn’t care.
 
Whoever and whatever this brat is, he certainly has already taken residence in
Eichi’s chair like he owns the place. This is at least somewhat entertaining
(adorable?) especially after an argument with the Demon Prince, who continues
to be infuriating even when they eventually agree to do the same thing.
 
“Inglings are monsters.” Eichi leans forward over the chair, planting a hand
onto one of its ornate arms. “And they’re coming to eat up everyone in the
Capital, if we don’t destroy them first.”
 
Leo nods slowly. That fits with what he’d heard the two men talking about. “So
you’re gonna ride out with that guy and beat them up? Are you doing it because
you want to, or because the king told you to? He’s my grandpa.”
 
“Both. I want to, and His Majesty asked me to.” Eichi smiles, plucking a little
dustbunny from the top of Leo’s head. “He can’t tell me to do much of anything,
I’m afraid.”
 
Leo beams, showing a little gap where his first tooth had fallen out. “Awesome!
So, how are you gonna fight the monsters? Are they really big? You look like an
angel.”
 
“Is that what you think? How cute.” Eichi’s eyes lid. “They’re very big, and
very dangerous. They’d like to eat up something like you, you know…but worse,
are the demons that come from the Shadowlands.”
 
Leo shivers, in that pleasurable way he does when he hears a really scary
story. His eyes go wide, and he starts kicking his feet harder, absolutely
focused. “Tell me about them?” It’s a question, not an order, and his voice is
eager. “The worst ones you’ve eeeeever seen!”
 
“I have an assistant that literally can’t even listen to a single story about
them, and he’s a fully grow man,” Eichi says, thoroughly entertained now. “Do
you mean ‘worst’ in the bloody, gory way, or ‘worst’ in the breaks your spirit,
sucks out your soul, and destroys your life way? There are many ways demon can
be terrible, Your Grace.”
 
Leo beams. “You can just call me Leo, if you wanna. Tell me the scariest
one—the one that you saw in person! Are there any demons that give you
nightmares?”
 
“My mother, maybe.” Eichi smiles brightly, and spins a strand of Leo’s hair
about one finger, giving it a light tug. “But the demons that come from the
deepest, darkest depths of the Shadowlands…those are the most terrifying. The
Demon Queen, for example. She’s beautiful, of course, but seduces human men at
random when she comes out to play…has them for her pleasure…and then drains
them dry of blood until they’re little husks, as dry as the leaves falling from
trees in autumn. Then she crunches them underneath her heels and they fall
apart into dust.”
 
Leo’s mouth falls open in horrified glee, eyes as wide as saucers. “What about
the bones?” He asks in a heavy whisper. “How big is her feet? Can she crunch
all the bones?”
 
“She doesn’t crunch them. She keeps them,” Eichi lowly says. “To build her
throne with.”
 
Leo’s whole face lights up, shining with the gory details. “Aaaaaaahhhh, I
wanna see! Does she drink just the blood, or does she eat the fat parts? How
big is the throne? Who builds it? Where is it? Can I go? What’s your name?”
 
“She just drinks the blood, it’s bigger than your grandfather’s, she makes her
human slaves build it in the Shadowlands, and no, you can’t go. Humans
shouldn’t go to the Shadowlands if they want to live.” Eichi’s eyebrows raise.
“And I suppose you can just call me Eichi, if I’m just calling you Leo.”
 
Leo beams a gap-toothed smile up at Eichi. “Wonderful!” he cries, with the air
of a child who’s recently decided on a favorite word. “You’re really
interesting, I wanna live here with you now!”
 
“You’d get bored,” Eichi hums, straightening as he leans back after a last
tousle of Leo’s hair. “Magic isn’t all fun and games, and we don’t get to fight
demons very often. This is just a special case. If we don’t stop demonkind from
coming from the West…well, there won’t be a kingdom for you to rule someday.”
 
That’s sobering, and Leo nods seriously, looking up at Eichi with huge eyes.
“But you and that other guy are gonna beat them up, right? Send ‘em to hell?
Hey, wait, that’s where people go. Where do demons go when wizards kill them?”
 
“What a good question. I suppose it depends on how they’re killed…back to the
Shadowlands, to the deepest parts of it where they’d have to crawl back out of
it again if they ever want to Be again…or maybe they just cease to exist, if
they’re blown apart thoroughly enough.” Eichi pauses, looking down at him, and
he almost reaches out to touch Leo’s hair again before stopping himself.
“Maybe,” he murmurs, “I’ll still be here when you’re king.”
 
“You’d better be. I’m gonna be in charge of the Academy then, I think?” Leo’s
head cocks, as if he can’t quite remember. “Grandpa and Father fight about
that. Grandpa is very strong and good, right? He’s the strongest human ever.”
 
Eichi laughs outright at that. “Is that what they tell you?” he asks. “I’m
afraid you’re sorely mistaken. The Academy doesn’t belong to the crown—though
I’d be happy to work with someone like you, if you continue being this clever.”
 
“I’m too clever for my own good,” Leo says seriously. “That’s what my tutors
say. But they’re slow and easy to run away from, so how much could they teach
me? They’re always trying to talk about arithmetic and other stupid stuff. What
are the demons in Inglings coming to do? How big are they? How are you gonna
kill them?”
 
“You certainly have a much more refined face when you stop talking,” Eichi
mildly says, stifling a cough behind his hand as he pulls up another chair,
letting Leo continue to have his own. “They want everything that humans have.
Warm places to sleep, good food, fresh water…but the problem, of course, is
that they aren’thuman, and they’re willing to kill us all to take what we’ve
worked for. Some are normal sized—others are enormous, we call those
berserkers. And we kill them by…well. Wizards are very good at making things
explode when we want to be, you know?”
 
“Really?” Leo sits up straight, and reaches up, tugging on one of Eichi’s
sleeves. “Make something blow up! Please?”
 
“You’re very destructive for a child, do your tutors tell you that, too?”
 
“Yeah! So, can you do it?”
 
Eichi rolls his eyes, then casually snaps his fingers, a nearby vase shattering
to pieces by some unseen force. “Imagine that being a huge monster body—blood
and guts everywhere.”
 
Leo’s face is a study in absolute delight, and he claps his hands, legs
swinging furiously. “Wonderful, wonderful! I want to come with you when you
blow up all the monsters, can I come? It’ll be a good, um, learning experiment!
 
“Mm, nope, you’re too little. Grow twenty centimeters first.”
 
“Awww, no fair!” But Leo seems less angry, and more overjoyed by the whole
notion of how cool this is, opening up a whole other world of incredible feats
for him to explore and learn about. “Can you tell me all about it when you come
home? What if you die and the monster eats you, are you gonna see out of its
eyes?”
 
“I won’t die, I’m too strong for that to happen.” Eichi’s smile is wry. “And I
don’t know—are you going to sneak out again to talk to me? Somehow, I think
your father’s going to be very annoyed with you if you do.”
 
“But you want me to, right?” Leo’s smile is open and guileless, but utterly
determined.
 
Eichi opens his mouth to reply, but it is, unfortunately, the Demon Prince that
moodily pokes his head right back around the corner. “If that’s who I think it
is,” he says, “then His Highness is throwing an actual royal fit looking for
him.”
 
“Oh, so you’ll speak to me now? Delightful,” Eichi sighs, rising slowly to his
feet. “Leo, this is the Demon Prince Rei, first son of the Sakuma name. He’ll
be helping me destroy the incoming threat, even though he seems to find the
idea somewhat repugnant.”
 
Leo hops resignedly off of his borrowed chair, then walks over to the newcomer,
taking one of his hands in both of Leo’s. “Thanks for saving the world,” he
says, very seriously. “I hope us humans do enough good stuff for you that it’s
worth it!”
 
Any response Rei would have come up with is lost, and he stares down at Leo for
a moment before patting his head. “Don’t worry, they have,” he quietly says.
“Your father’s waiting down the hall on the left, don’t keep him waiting, all
right?”
 
Leo huffs, blowing the bangs out of his eyes. “Wow, I must have been gone
longer than I thought if my dad actually came! Haha!”
 
He turns, squeezing Rei’s hand for one more moment, then faces Eichi once more.
“I probably won’t be able to sneak out for a while, but it was really good to
meet you! Let’s talk again when you get back from crushing monsters, okay?”
 
“Any time, Leo.” Resisting the urge to touch the boy again is…difficult, and
annoying for some reason, but Eichi decides it has to do with generally wanting
to pet something small. “We’ll make it something of legends, I’m sure.”
***** Chapter 40 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Rei knows the auction houses in the Sandlands like the back of his hand.
 
Perhaps that isn’t something to boast about—even with honorable intentions
involved—but in this case, it makes it very easy to find where he’s going, and
who he’s here for. Mao’s directions are as crystal clear as always—he’ll never
find another spy as skilled, no matter how he torments the boy—and Rei beelines
to the largest auction house within an hour of the royal family’s palace.
 
It takes effort not to immediately run off to the palace, but…plans are plans,
and he needs to trust that Shu isn’t incapable of following them, even under
duress.
 
The plan is a simple one. Mao’s infiltration within the ranks of traders is
already set; now it’s a matter of becoming a reliable buyer, and an extremely
wealthy one at that. Setting that stage with Keito being available for
puchase—and a capital man will fetch a high price at auction, even without
Rei’s prodding—puts Rei in a prime spot to become a buyer that traders will
court, and with that…someone who can directly find those high up in the
business, if he has enough money to flash about (and he does).
 
What he doesn’t expect is a bidding war with a scrawny, hooded, mustached man.
Rei does actually wish that he wasn’t disguised and could unleash the full fury
of the Demon King onto whoever will notstop trying to purchase Keito, who looks
a mix furious and trying not to faint, in that way he does. Keito, for all of
his abilities, is not Shu. Keito, for all of his abilities, cannot hold his own
against a damned fly if it’s anything physical, and so—
 
Rei wins, with a resounding last, crushing bid, and loathes the hours he has to
wait before retrieving his ‘prize.’
 
In the meantime, the other, fixated bidder leaves too quickly. Rei decides the
correct thing to do about that is follow, as subtly as he possibly can. That
is, until cornering the idiot that dared to even think of buying what’s his (a
stupid way to think about it, perhaps, but that’s where he is at the moment)
outside of the auction house, directly into an alleyway, is inevitable. “Hello,
my adversary,” he greets, perhaps too cheerfully. The sun is too bright, every
sound is too loud, and he’s more annoyed by the moment. Maybe I should have
brought Kaoru immediately after all. “Do you speak common tongue?” Then,
fluidly, in Sandtongue, “Or should we be having a conversation like this before
I kill you?”
 
Leo cocks his head, then responds in incredibly careful Sandtongue, “You are
the winner of the buying, yes? So you should feel happy, my friend.” He smiles,
showing all of his teeth, and adds, in the Common Tongue, “But you made a
mistake of bidding on something I want in there. So I may have to kill you as
soon as you try to leave with him.”
 
A Capital accent. It’s impossible to ignore that neatly spoken common tongue,
wrought with every sign of someone well-learned. It brings Rei a moment of
pause before he decides he’s had enough. One scrawny, obnoxious pervert of a
human isn’t worth his time.
 
A dagger flips into his hand casually—he’s shit with them, really, but that’s
not the point—and he steps forward, one too-fast, inhuman stride catching the
other man by the throat and shoving him hard into the stone wall behind him. He
lets his fangs flash, just a glint of them in the too-bright sun. “If you were
any less disgusting, I’d have a proper drink before I gut you,” he lowly
hisses. “What’s your house, so I can know to slaughter them all as well?”
 
Leo yanks back, hood falling off to reveal his unmistakably bright hair, the
mustache hanging on to his lip by a single dangling bit of paste. His face
doesn’t give an inch, though, no matter that his false spectacles fall from his
nose to shatter on the pavement. “You wouldn’t be able to handle them,” he
snarls, grabbing in his belt for his knife, getting it up in time to slice at
the intruder’s stomach.
 
Only out of startled luck does Rei catch Leo’s wrist, stopping his thrust out
of sheer strength alone. “Majesty?” His own dagger clatters to the ground as
Rei abandons it in favor of throwing back his hood, the illusion of his own
disguise melting before Leo’s eyes (and Leo’s eyes only) in an instant,
revealing his wild, dark hair and pale skin instead of the tanned, wrinkled
face of an old man from the Sandlands. “The hell are you doing here? At a place
like this?”
 
Leo’s mouth drops open, and he lets out a startled, delighted laugh at the sigh
of Rei, his hand going limp on the knife. “Hahaha! I heard there was someone
from the Capital being auctioned off today, and came to make sure it wasn’t
your consort or anyone like that. Imagine my surprise!”
 
“…Imagine,” Rei manages, heaving a sigh and releasing Leo’s hand. He rakes a
hand back through his hair, shaking it out of his face. “That’s fine, I
suppose. Now at least I don’t have to kill anyone…yet,” he allows. “Your
disguise is absolutely terrible, though, and I won’t tell you otherwise. You’re
going to get yourself killed.”
 
“But you didn’t know who I was,” Leo points out, with an insouciant grin. “So
how bad could it have been? You know me, you know? Ah, good, congrats on your
purchase!”
 
“Keep your voice down and put your hood back up.” Rei pulls it up for him, a
frown on his face. “In hindsight, it was obvious. Forgive me, Majesty, but
there are much bigger threats at large here, and I haven’t the time to keep an
eye on you while I address them. If you wait a day, I’m sure your Kingsguard
will be here to scoop you up.”
 
Leo scowls, folding his arms over his chest, cloak flapping a little behind
him. “I’m not here to be scooped up. I’m an action king, so quit expecting my
father all over again.”
 
Rei pulls up his own hood again, his expression decidedly neutral. “Really.
What was your plan of action then, if I may ask?”
 
“I heard there was someone from the Capital being auctioned off. I thought if I
could save and talk to them, I’d be a little closer to finding the folks
responsible for the whole thing.” Leo shrugs a shoulder. “Not my fault you got
there first!”
 
“You know, this is why you assigned others to deal with this in the first
place—so that you didn’t have to put yourself into immediate danger. You
already have the most capable people that could be involved, involved.” Rei
pauses, heaving a sigh. “I don’t relish scolding you like a child,” he adds
grumpily. “But I very much did offer up my consort to keep your royal ass out
of danger, so perhaps acknowledge that.”
 
Leo takes in a deep breath, then nods, looking away from Rei’s eyes. “I got
worried. Everyone’s been gone for so long, and there’s no word—and then we got
news that even more noble children have gone missing, did you hear the youngest
son of the Hinterlands nobles has disappeared? They’ve been shrieking at me to
do something.”
 
Rei opens his mouth, then shuts it. “That one I have a solution to,” he mildly
says. “He’s in my possession. But the rest—it’s been difficult to send messages
directly to you in the Capital. I can bring you up to speed, but that comes
with you absolutely not stepping into an auction house again.”
 
Leo hesitates. “There…are a lot of kids in there,” he says quietly. “Even when
we bring down the whole ring—they won’t all be safe. Some of them are going to
get hurt tonight, probably. I have money. I could save them. What kind of king
am I if I don’t go in there and stop this?”
 
“You can’t stay here and do it every single day, can you?” Rei shakes his head.
“You said it yourself—even after we bring down the whole ring, they won’t all
be safe. The Sandlands will still exist…and the economy is based on
prostitution, and this trade. Slaves will still be bought and sold. What we
have to focus on now is destroying this ring, which isn’t just effecting these
children directly, but potentially children in this entire country. It’s
funneling up to the Hinterlands, and even to the Isles now.”
 
“So?” Leo demands, suddenly furious, though his anger isn’t directed at Rei.
“What do we do about it? We’ve got all these grand plans, but—when is it going
to happen?”
 
“Now. Why do you think I’m here?”
 
Rei grabs him by the back of his cloak, scruffing him like a cat to steer him
further down the alleyway. “My spy has already infiltrated their ranks. Once I
get to pick up my purchase, I’ll be asking to speak with one of their master
traders—for more, similar goods, of course. And I’m hoping I can immediately be
proven correct from my sources about who is in charge, and subsequently,
fucking murder them and everyone associated once I have a proper list of names.
This is the center of it all; once the head is cut off, the limbs will slowly
die.”
 
That’s a good answer, and Leo slowly exhales, nodding as that starts to sink
in. Now—that’s a good time, that means this is almost over, and they can go
back to making the country something to be proud of instead of something to
fix. “All right. If it’s tonight, I’ll come with you. You could use some
muscle.”
 
“You will not be coming with me, Majesty.” Rei turns him around, leaning down
over him to hold his gaze. “I appreciate your intentions, but you are, in fact,
the king. Staying alive and out of this mess directly is what you should be
doing.”
 
Leo sighs. “I have got to produce an heir already so I can start doing what I
want,” he grumbles, not entirely deterred by Rei’s glare. “Hey, give Keito my
regards. And treat him gently, wahaha!”
 
“It’s hilarious that you think I trust and believe you to actually lay low
right now. Where are you going to run off to when and if I let you go?”
 
Leo opens his mouth, then shuts it again, narrowing his eyes up at Rei. “What
should I tell you that would make you let me go?” It’s not like he can sayI’m
being guided by a dead angel in my head,after all.
 
“The truth.” Rei casually backs him into a wall, neatly trapping him there with
a hand planted next to Leo’s head. “It starts quietly, but the longer I’m near
you, the louder and louder the magic around you becomes—loud, and unbalanced,
and very, very wrong. Even a human should be able to feel it.”
 
“I’m no wizard,” Leo says quickly, avoiding Rei’s eyes again. Eichi had told
him—dream Eichi, the one that probably doesn’t exist—that wizards can see truth
in human’s eyes, if they know what to look for, and Leo has no doubt that Rei
does. “What magic could I be doing, huh? If there’s magic—you’re the wizard,
you should be hunting it down, right?”
 
“I know you aren’t doing it. At least, not knowingly.”
 
Rei’s head tilts, and he bends low, coming eye level with Leo. “Even humans are
capable of magic, given the right tools,” he softly says. “You were bonded to
one of the most powerful wizards of this age. Did you really think that would
just…go away?”
 
“He broke it.” Sudden, wild, unreasonable despair wells up in Leo, and he grabs
Rei by the front of his shirt, knuckles white, eyes frantic. “He broke it,
didn’t he? He had to—or I’d die, and everyone seems to think I’m still alive—“
 
He breaks off, breathing hard, face pale, hands shaky. “Even if it doesn’t feel
like it when I’m awake,” he finishes, in a hollow whisper. “So he broke it. He
had to. It’s over.”
 
Pity briefly flashes across Rei’s face, and he circles an arm around Leo’s
shoulders, pulling him into his chest. When Leo is so close, the noise—the
complete and utter cacophony of that magic—it’s all too clear in Rei’s ears,
and he exhales a long breath, resting a hand to the top of Leo’s head and
blanketing those sounds with a layer of his own power, a heavy, shimmery layer
of magic whose sole purpose is to dampen. “Creatures like him…what they leave
behind—it’s more alive than most humans that walk and breathe,” he quietly
says. “If you’re dreaming of him…those aren’t the dreams of a madman.”
 
Those are the words that Leo has both longed and feared to hear for years. He
gulps in a huge, shuddering breath as some of the racket (it’s always so loud
in his head, why is it so loud, why won’t it ever shut up shut up shut up shut
up shut UP SHUT UP) starts to fade. He looks up, eyes wide, lip quivering. “Can
I…have this all the time?” he whispers, hearing himself plead and hating it.
“Or is it only when I’m close to you?”
 
Oh, dear. Rei glances skyward, checking the time, before he simply loops an arm
about Leo’s waist and lifts him, holding him close to his chest as he strides
off. They have time—at least three hours before he can retrieve Keito and put
his plans into action. “There’s a proper spell for it,” he answers. “Instead of
a temporary fix, like this one…but you might not like it.”
 
“Oi,” Leo mutters, though he doesn’t squirm too hard. “You can’t just cart me
around, that’s not very dignified.” Then he huffs, and buries his face in Rei’s
shoulder, snatching at the scant comfort that it offers. It’s not for him, and
he’s not even entirely sure that he trusts Rei completely, but the cessation of
the constant cacaphony in his head is worth a little compromise. “Whatever you
do can’t be worse than the way it is right now,” he finally says.
 
“That’s the way I think about it, but it’s not a very healthy way to approach
it,” Rei brightly says, pulling Leo’s hood more firmly down over his face as he
steps into the main throng of the market. Deciding to stay in this area of the
city was a calculated choice, but it means that it’s that much more important
to be unrecognizable—and Leo, unfortunately, catches every single eye if he
isn’t careful.
 
It’s a short walk to the inn, and he ducks inside, the sounds of the busy
streets left behind as he makes his way up to his room. “If you don’t want to
do it the thorough way, then I’ll put a charm on you,” he says, unlocking his
door and dropping Leo unceremoniously onto his bed. The light in the room is
dim, and Rei drifts away, lightly touching the wick of a candle, which
immediately bursts into flame. “But the long and short of reducing an
Archdemon’s influence in any capacity requires some intensive spellwork…and
fortunately for you, my kind is particularly good at it.”
 
“Arch…demon?”
 
Leo blinks around at the bare room, as if he’s never seen the room of an inn
before. “I thought he was an angel. Ah…now that I say it…it sounds stupid,
doesn’t it?” His knees tuck up to his chest, and he suddenly feels very young,
very dumb, and very small. “I’ve always thought he was.”
 
“His kind certainly look like them, don’t they?” Rei wryly says, dropping down
onto the edge of the bed and reaching out to pull Leo’s hood down again and
patiently pet his hair. “They call themselves that, even. But they’re demons of
the darkest, deepest sort, straight from the lowest depths of the Shadowlands.
It’s rare that they emerge, rarer still that they take a human form in these
lands. The Lord of the West, Arashi? He has some of that blood in him. I would
be more surprised if it wasn’t Eichi’s.”
 
“Arashi? Wow. I just…” Leo’s throat works for a moment, unable to form words.
But no, that’s just cowardice. He steels himself, and asks, “Is it really him?
That I’m talking to at night? Or is it just an imprint left behind?”
 
“That’s…hard to say. I don’t think Archdemons can truly be killed—their spirits
reside elsewhere in the first place. So it’s probably somewhere in-between. I
know that’s not the answer that you want to hear, but…you aren’t hallucinating,
at least,” Rei says with a little shrug. “For example—a friend of mine, another
Nightcloak…he specializes in consuming magic and life force. It’s how he
survives, it’s his food. He ate your lover’s frayed bond, and cleared that
away. That wouldn’t work on you; the magic is too strong, and his presence
still so…saturating. He cast a lot of spellwork around you to protect you, and
it lingers, even if it’s misfiring now.”
 
“If it’s that much, what can you do?” Leo asks, hands balling into fists.
“It—gods, this is so like him, you know? I didn’t ask for him here, I didn’t
want him, I—I mean, yeah, I liked him a lot, but he was the worst, and then he
had to go and—and die? For me? I mean, I killed him, but he could have taken me
down with him, and he actually did something noble for once, but he
won’t—stop—fucking—haunting—me—“
 
He’s rambling, teeth chattering, and he snaps them shut with an audible click
and an effort of will. “Sorry. I don’t…Izumi doesn’t like hearing about it.”
 
“It’s fine. I don’t mind. Take your cloak and shirt off and lie down, facedown.
You can keep talking.” Rei slides away again, pulling over the single piece of
luggage brought with him. “Even if it’s as saturated as it is, I can still do
quite a bit. His magic and mine, they’re in direct opposition—that is, he’s
entirely weak to mine. I can cancel out quite a bit of what he left behind on
you, and then we can work on dampening the rest.”
 
“Will he know?”
 
The words are soft, ashamed, as Leo does as he’s told, lying facedown on the
bed after stripping to the waist. “Whatever…imprint, or what’s left of him.
Will he know what I’m doing?”
 
“What you’re really asking,” Rei quietly says, shucking his own cloak before he
pulls out a bottle of oil from his bag, “is if it will hurt him by turning
these spells back. It won’t, he’s disconnected from them entirely, whatever’s
left of him. They’re lingering in a way that isn’t helpful for you or to him.”
 
He rolls the bottle around in his hands before uncorking it, and pouring a thin
line of it directly down Leo’s spine. A single finger follows the bumps in
Leo’s spine, and underneath Rei’s touch, with every rune he sketches out, the
oil’s scent blossoms into a dark, heady floral. “It’s gotten worse recently,
hasn’t it? Those sounds, all of that noise. That’s why I can hear it now, too.”
 
Shivers run down Leo’s spine, augmented by the power running through his soul.
“I don’t know what…changed. In the—in the dreams…he said it was my fault. That
I wanted him back so bad I summoned him. But that’s…that’s not right. I don’t
think it is, anyway. I didn’t miss him like that until they started, the
dreams.”
 
“No less than half a dozen channels to the deepest parts of the Shadowlands
have opened within the past two months.” Rei’s touch pauses at Leo’s lower
back, his thumb dragging up, digging into the small of it before sweeping
upward into another rune. “Because of the trade in the Hinterlands, and the
work in the mines bordering the Shadowlands. Too many things have been woken
up, too many things have been disrupted. That’s why.”
 
Leo frowns. He hadn’t been expecting a real answer, not one that seems to make
sense. “Does that mean…gods, does that mean he could come back?” His first
reaction is a forlorn, aching hope—the second, utter terror.
 
“No.” Not in your lifetime. Rei doesn’t say that, because what’s the point? “He
won’t come back. But…that is why you’re feeling him and his magic so strongly
now.”
 
Rei’s fingers splay over the back of Leo’s neck, smoothing the oil there as
well. “This might feel strange,” he lightly says. “Like quite a bit of pressure
lifting at once.”
 
That’s the only warning he gives before each run flares to life, glowing bright
red against Leo’s skin before fizzling away to fragrant smoke. With their
disappearance, magic visibly dissolves with enough color that it would be
visible even to a human’s eye—glittering filaments of gold and blue and green,
slipping off of Leo and fluttering away.
 
Leo’s breath all leaves his lungs at the same time, and he yelps at the sudden
flash of power across his skin. The ever-present prickling of magic into
him—now that he’s conscious of its removal, it had felt like fine needles, all
pricking him and digging into him and tearing him apart for years—suddenly sort
of flattens, and he’s left gasping, like a man coming up for air after being
submerged. “I—what did you—that feels so weird, really…hnnnnn it’s like being
struck by lightning, is that normal?”
 
“Mmhm. Now, that’s just the spellwork he left behind—we haven’t gotten to
dampening the bond yet, this has to sort of melt away for a moment before we
can.” Rei’s hand slides down from Leo’s neck, smearing a few of the oil-written
runes away as the smoke and light starts to fade from them. “If you feel better
after this…that might be all you want me to do, that’s your choice.”
 
Leo shudders, facedown on his stomach, feeling the fabric pressing into his
cheek with what feels like more clarity than usual. “I thought it was broken,”
he says softly. “And this was just the remnants. He—if he didn’t break it, I
would have died…and I didn’t, right?” His voice cracks a little, and he buries
his face again, ashamed.
 
“No, no, you didn’t die, you’re still very much here, Majesty,” Rei murmurs,
his fingers soothing against Leo’s back, slowly, gently petting him now in a
way that has nothing to do with magic. “It’s broken…but the pieces that remain
are what trouble you. That’s those noises in your mind, that constant bother—I
can’t get rid of the bond, but I can at least make it shut up most of the way.
That’s a much more involved ritual, though, and you might not be comfortable
with it.”
 
“Do it.”
 
Leo speaks the words in a tone of command, silencing the greater part of his
mind that screams at him—But I’ll miss him, but no one touches me like he does,
but I need his advice, but I want him so badly I can’t breathe. “Do it now, do
it—before I can change my mind, I don’t know if begging or ordering will get
you to do it faster, I—please—“
 
Wouldn’t you like to know what it entails first? Rei almost asks, but he
exhales a heavy sigh instead, and grabs Leo by the arm, flipping him over in
one, smooth pull. “If you change your mind in the middle of this, it won’t
work,” he lowly warns, his eyes glittering deep red in the low light of the
room as he crawls over him, hair swinging forward over his shoulders to pool
around Leo’s face. “I can’t stop once it’s started—not myself, and not the
magic, either.”
 
Eichi grabbing him into his lap and sliding a collar around his neck, Eichi
moving deep inside him, Eichi laughing and calling him Kitten, Eichi touching
him like no one else ever has, Eichi holding him close and looking so flustered
that he’s feeling the same way—
 
Izumi, looking at him with love, longing, concern.
 
“It’s not real,” he says, and if the words come out a little wet, well, Rei
isn’t an idiot, he’ll understand. He looks up into those burning red eyes, and
meets them with his own, reaching his hands down to hook his thumbs in his
waistband. “It’s this, right? All your magic is like this, so it’s fine.” No
more a betrayal than what he does every night while he’s asleep.
 
“Mm. It’s like that.” Rei pauses, and reaches down to still Leo’s hand for a
moment. “If you’d be happier putting it in me, I don’t mind.” It’s not like
he’d regularly offer, but Leo is…a special case, especially in this scenario.
“Otherwise—well, I will make this feel good, ritual or no ritual.”
 
“Does it…” Leo bites his lip, cheeks pink. “Does it have to be inside like
that? I just…I don’t do it. With anyone except Izumi, now.”
 
Rei heaves a sigh, shrugging one shoulder. “The long and short answer is yes,
unfortunately.” He flutters a hand. “I’ve tried working high-level magic with
mouths and hands, it’s just not the same…something always ends up going the
wrong way, and if I can’t make it work, no one can. I’ve actually never seen a
sex magic spell without mentioning penetration—unless you’re talking about
drinking someone’s seed in copious amounts, but that’s a whole other issue.”
 
“You don’t have to say it so blatantly,” Leo mutters, manfully attempting to
will away his embarrassment. “I—look, I don’t do this kind of thing as often as
Izumi, but…if it has to be that way…you just do it. You’re probably, you know.”
He looks away, and says quietly, “Better at it.”
 
“Sorry, I sometimes forget humans especially dislike talking about sex so
frankly—Shu’s the same as you, it’s adorable. If you as much as say the word
‘cock’, he turns as pink as his hair.” Rei’s eyes lid as he lifts a hand, long
fingers gently splaying over Leo’s throat. “Two options that might help. One, I
can take a little drink—the venom of my kind is like an aphrodisiac to humans.
Two…well. I can certainly take on the shape of your lover, if you’d be happier
about that.”
 
Leo sucks in a long breath. His heart thuds painfully in his chest—it’s not
that it’s just sex, he wants to say, it’s that he doesn’t do this with people
he doesn’t love. But that’s a child’s plea—and besides, Izumi will be so happy
if he’s finally healed. Oh, he hides it, but every time Leo says something that
isn’t quite right, he sees the way Izumi looks at him. “It would be…more of a
violation to have you look like him, I think,” he says quietly. “And it’s not
like you’re bad to look at. Nnh, I totally want to try your venom, though!”
 
“That’s the spirit.” Rei’s tongue runs over the tips of his fangs, and he
shifts back, curling his fingers into the waistband of Leo’s trousers. “These
are coming off,” he cheerfully says. “I’ll take a bite from your thigh so no
one sees any marks on you.”
 
A little wriggle is all it takes, since Leo has always been remarkably good at
getting naked when it serves his purpose. “It’s not weird, is it?” he asks
suddenly. “I know you’re not human, does it look human? Just tell me beforehand
if it is weird so I have a chance to think about it.”
 
“It’s just like a human’s,” Rei reassures him, helping to tug Leo’s trousers
off his ankles and toss them carelessly to the floor. Unceremoniously, he
tosses one of Leo’s legs over his shoulders, his mouth hot against the inside
of his knee, then further up his thigh, sucking on that soft skin as if priming
it. “I’m still half-human, you know,” he murmurs, tongue dragging over the same
spot, feeling that thudding, pounding of Leo’s pulse just beneath it before
biting down, sinking his fangs in deep.
 
That is…certainly a sensation. Leo lets it course over him for a minute,
considering the feeling, before he decides that it’s not nearly as bad as it
could be. If anything, it feels no worse than a bug’s bite—but far, far more
intimate, somehow, and not just because of the location. A tremor wracks his
body, attacking his nervous system, and his cock springs suddenly to life,
though it had been hardly interested before. “O-oh,” he groans, looking down at
the frankly erotic sight, watching Rei brush his lips over his thigh. “That…I
see…how do I taste?” Honestly, who wouldn't want to know?
 
Rei slowly pulls himself back, his lips rouged with the color of Leo’s blood
before his tongue flicks out to lick it away, not wasting a drop. “Rich,” he
settles upon after a moment’s contemplation, lowering Leo’s leg. He pulls his
own shirt off and over his head, shaking out his hair afterwards. “A little
sweet, even…much more full-bodied than I expected. Sorry, I’m talking about you
like you’re wine,” he says with a laugh, smoothing his hands up Leo’s sides to
his chest, where his thumbs drag over his nipples. “But you’re delicious, is
the point.”
 
That comment is oddly soothing, and Leo relaxes back with a gasp, thrusting his
chest towards Rei’s hands. “That—that’s nice,” he whispers, bracing his hands
back on the bed, head rolling back. “I’d rather be really tasty than really
disgusting, right? You…your hands…”
 
They’re nice, he thinks, but his mind keeps blanking, shorting out when he
wants words. Instead of saying that, he just grabs Rei by the neck, yanking him
close for a kiss.
 
Rei surrenders into that pull with a low, pleased purr, immediately parting his
lips to swipe his tongue over Leo’s lower lip, then into his mouth with a
deliberate flick against the roof of his mouth. “Just because it’s a ritual
doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself,” he murmurs, slowly pinching, then
pulling on one of Leo’s nipples, drawing out that touch as he lets his weight
settle between Leo’s thighs, letting Leo feel the heat of his own cock pressed
tight against him. “You can tell me what you like, I’ll take care of you.”
 
That probably sounds better than it should. Leo tries not to think about how
that makes his skin prickle with anticipation, how it makes his legs feel like
there’s nothing easier than parting, letting Rei lie between them. Should it
feel so good? If anything, it just feels sort of exciting, this tall, handsome
demon pressing him down into a strange mattress, promising to do anything he
wants. A grin spreads over his face, and he squeezes his thighs around Rei’s
hips, quirking an eyebrow upwards. “This,” he says bluntly. “I like this, you
pressing me down and playing with my chest, you can keep doing it.”
 
“Then I will.” Rei’s fingers pinch that same nipple again as he mouths at the
arc of Leo’s neck, then ducks his head down, his teeth scraping against its
twin. He sucks, tongue pressing down against it as he lets his weight settle
into Leo, his cock hard through the thin fabric of his pants. It’s better that
Leo can’t see the magic that winds around him—thin, red strings, coiling around
his wrists and neck, leaving imprints wherever they touch. “Even with me taking
a bite…you’re still awfully ready here, aren’t you?” Rei lowly teases,
releasing Leo’s nipple with a little strand of saliva still attached to his
lips as he reaches down to Leo’s cock, dragging his palm along the length of
it. His fingers briefly skim lower, a pair of them ghosting over Leo’s hole
before sliding away again. “My king is surprisingly quite cute.”
 
“Oh, now you remember to treat me as a king.” The words aren’t as grumpy as Leo
would like them to be. They’re far more breathy, eager, despite the surprising,
unexpected nature of the coupling. Maybe it’s just that his body feels good for
once, instead of the stupid fog he’s been drowning in for months. Maybe Rei is
just great at this, he admits to himself, and grabs at Rei’s cock, yanking his
pants down and curling a hand around his cock. “You’re big,” he accuses.
 
“Guilty,” Rei blithely says, his breath hitching at the touch of Leo’s hand. He
kicks his pants aside completely as he rocks forward into Leo’s touch, his cock
twitching, a tiny droplet beading at the top and dripping down over Leo’s
fingers. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for it, Majesty,” he breathes,
nuzzling up into Leo’s hair, fumbling for the oil again. It drips over his
fingers, slick and fragrant, and he drags them over Leo’s hole again, barely
dipping inside just yet. “I’ve always been a bit curious…about what sorts of
faces you make, when someone’s inside of you.”
 
That statement, more than anything Rei’s doing, makes Leo’s breath hitch, legs
splaying wide. He shuts his eyes, just for a moment, imagining Izumi’s cool
touch ghosting over his skin, and his heart aches briefly. Then, lovingly, he
tucks that image to the side, and opens his eyes. There’ll be time enough to
love Izumi properly once he’s fixed inside, after all. For now, he grabs at
Rei’s cock, stomach dropping a bit when he realizes he needs two hands to
properly grip it. “How much have you been thinking about that kind of thing,
huh? M-maybe the Academy needs…needs more work to…nnnh, that’s—“ Rei clearly
doesn’t need to be told that his fingers are pressing in the exact right spots,
not with how confident his motions are.
 
“The Academy has plenty of work, thank you.” Unceremoniously, Rei slides one
long, slick finger in to the second knuckle, thrusting it in deeper when he
feels the clench of Leo’s body around it when he curls it back towards himself.
“Good boy,” he murmurs, his teeth catching the lobe of Leo’s ear, his tongue
running over the stud of an earring dangling there. Out of the corner of his
eye, the low-burning red glow of magic lines criss-cross down Leo’s body,
messily ensnaring him. “When you spread your legs like that, it’s hard not to
want you to squirm more, Majesty…”
 
“H-how sure are you that this is magic?” Leo asks breathlessly on a laugh,
hands grabbing at Rei’s hair, pulling him down for another kiss. Maybe that’s
wrong, maybe it’s better to just let Rei take him and be done with it…but he’s
never made love to someone without kissing them, wanting them, and he’s not
even sure he knows how.
 
The way Rei is touching him inside, though—that feels like magic, right enough.
It’s good enough to make him gasp, squeezing down no matter how much he knows
it’s time to relax, legs wrapping around Rei’s waist to tug him closer. “F-
feels like you’re just having fun, you know?”
 
“Who says magic can’t be fun?” Rei breathes, eagerly letting himself get pulled
in by Leo’s legs, his hands, kissing him deeply with his tongue snaking out to
coax Leo’s into his mouth so he can suck on it properly. A low, rumbling groan
escapes his chest, and he waits a heartbeat, two, for Leo to relax, making it
easier to wriggle in a second finger next to the first. Leo’s achingly tight,
squeezing around just those fingers like it’s already too much, and Rei takes
his time stroking and toying with him from the inside, gently pressing against
that little bud of nerves before rubbing against it. “I’m not…good at this,
unless the other person is enjoying himself,” he softly admits, his teeth
catching Leo’s lower lip to lightly tug before he slithers down, planting
kisses down Leo’s stomach before his tongue drags over the head of Leo’s cock.
He tucks a handful of his hair back behind his ears before sucking the rest of
that flushed, perfect cock into his mouth.
 
“At…sex? Or magic? Well, with you, I guess it doesn’t—hhnnnggg, ahh!”
 
Rei’s mouth is hot and wet, sinfully tight around Leo’s cock, and Leo flops
back to the bed, head hitting with a thump. He grabs at his own legs, spreading
them wider, letting Rei finger him as deep as possible. “L-long fingers, that’s
nice, you’re reaching in so far…ah, Rei…y-you can suck harder, I like it…like
that…” When Izumi hollows his cheeks out and—no, no, Izumi’s not here.
 
Rei obliges, ducking his head to take Leo all the way to the hilt, until he
nuzzles at the flat plane of his stomach, at the wiry hairs at the base of his
cock as he sucks hard. His tongue drags from root to tip as his fingers press
in deep, twisting and stroking, milking that perfect little spot until he can
feel Leo dripping over his tongue. His own cock throbs between his legs—quit
that, not yet, he scolds himself, his eyes fluttering.
 
Suddenly, Leo grabs Rei’s hair, yanking his head back, trying not to lose it
just at the sight of Rei surfacing from his cock, a thin strand of saliva
connecting his cock and Rei’s lips. “D-do we need to come at the same time? For
the spell? Because, uh, that’s about to not be…possible…”
 
“How about you let me figure out the magical bits, huh?” Rei growls, flicking
out his tongue to snap that little, sticky strand of saliva. He takes that
opportunity to draw his hand back, enough that pressing a third finger inside
is easier, though gods, Leo is still so tight at that that it takes his breath
away. “You…ask far too many questions,” he groans, pulling against Leo’s hand
to get his mouth back on his cock. “Shut up and let me suck you off.”
 
Leo doesn’t release Rei’s hair, but he does yank Rei’s head back down, forcing
him to take his entire cock in one thrust. It doesn’t look like it’s hard for
him, admittedly, but it does make Leo groan, rocking between Rei’s mouth and
his fingers, shamelessly grinding down over and over and over and over again
once Rei starts stroking that perfect spot. The mouth on his cock feels almost
secondary, when those smooth fingers keep strumming him as precisely as any
violin.
 
At some point, he’s pretty sure something happens in his body, and he starts to
squirm, flushed and overstimulated, spots bursting in his vision as he spills
into Rei’s mouth. “G-gods, that’s—right there, right there, don’t stop,
don’t—right theeere—“
 
Swallowing noisily, again, then again, Rei doesn’t miss a drop. Ahh, sure, it’s
fun to be messy, but in a case like this, being neat and licking up every
single drop of seed—necessary, and in this case, arousing, especially when Leo
has finally given into just yanking his head down and using his mouth to fuck
up into.
 
When he finally pulls back, he’s flushed and his lips are swollen when he runs
his tongue over them, heaving a pleased, shaky sigh. “Come here,” Rei breathes,
slowly withdrawing his fingers from inside of Leo before slinking back up his
body and kissing him hard, shoving his tongue into his mouth as his cock rubs
down against him, achingly hard and dripping. “You’re still so tight here,” he
murmurs, reaching down to teasingly spread Leo’s hole with two fingers again.
“But I bet you’ll open right up when I’m inside of you, won’t you, Leo…”
 
“I like it,” Leo murmurs, arms winding around Rei’s back to pull him close,
their bodies flush. “When it’s too much. That’s when it’s the best, hmm? But,
ah, slow at first?” The memory of Eichi sliding into him the first
time—impossibly large, thick, the head splitting him in two, very little time
for patience—are strong, rising at the back of his mouth.
 
“Mm, nice and slow,” Rei sighs in agreement, mouth dragging over the arc of
Leo’s throat. His fangs almost break the skin again, but he resists at the last
minute, instead reaching for the bottle of oil again. He lets what’s left drip
over his cock, his fingers smoothing it down the length of it to make it slick
before he guides it to Leo’s hole. The head catches against it, thicker still
than his fingers, but with a little push, enough effort behind that slide, the
head sinks inside. “If it’s…reallytoo much, just…hah…my hair makes good reins,”
he groans, his head thunking down against Leo. His hands slide to Leo’s waist,
gripping him tightly with every slow, rolling grind forward. “You feel…so good
like this…”
 
Leo lets out a long squeal, then claps a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle
such an embarrassing, entirely lewd noise. Rei feels bigger even than Eichi,
though maybe that’s because he hasn’t taken anything so large in the years
since Eichi’s death, not in his real, physical body. He squirms, trying to calm
his racing heartbeat, reminding himself that this won’t kill him, that Rei
knows what he’s doing. “So big,” he whispers, eyes clenched shut, teeth gritted
as he forces himself to relax. “It’s—nn, it’s so—Reeeei…”
 
“I know, I know, but I’ve got you,” Rei pants out, his hands splaying around to
Leo’s lower back, lifting his hips, angling his body to make relaxing and
taking it easier. Each little thrust of his hips helps it slide deeper, even
when he has to pause when Leo clenches down too tightly for either of them to
even think of moving. “Think about how it feels…when it’s all the way inside of
you,” he whispers against Leo’s throat, sucking on that soft skin before his
head ducks down, tugging on a nipple with his teeth. A droplet of sweat rolls
down from his jaw, proof of the effort it takes not to just shove in,to take
his own pleasure. “Nice and full…and it’s just there to make you feel good, for
you to get off on.”
 
Rei’s right, whether he knows it or not, because all Leo has ever needed in
order to come is something hard and thick inside of him. He pants, twisting
down on Rei’s cock as it slides deep into him, spreading him wide with each
thrust. It takes work not to just twist down and come already, and Leo doesn’t
try too hard, letting the pleasure build inside of him, stoking his fires to
new heights with every slick, tight motion. “I’m…using it,” he moans, mouth
slack, eyes blown in pleasure. “F-feels…so good…nnh, you can—go all the way
in—“
 
Whether Leo’s ready or not, Rei takes those words at face value. Giving in
feels incredible—shoving in with one, long, full thrust makes Rei’s breath
catch in his chest, his fingers digging into Leo’s hips as he holds him still
for a moment, savoring that tight, trembling clench around him when he’s buried
in to the hilt. “That’s all of it,” he groans, his head thunking down against
Leo’s shoulder as he arches over him, rocking in hard, hissing at the slick
slide around him when he pulls back even a centimeter. “Fuck…Leo—“ He forces
himself to straighten, settling his weight better onto his knees as his hands
drag down, curling around Leo’s ass to better guide him into every thrust.
Those strands of magic tangle around his fingers, but Rei ignores them as he
grinds in, his eyes lidded as he watches the way Leo moves down against him.
“So that’s what our king’s face looks like with a dick in him,” he murmurs.
“Good to know.”
 
For better or worse, once Rei is in, he’s all in. That knowledge pulses in Leo
as much as Rei’s cock does, driving into him as he squirms. Finally, he gives
up all care of how he looks, how he sounds, who could hear him, and just
enjoys. His mouth falls open and stays that way, his legs tense around Rei’s
waist to keep him grinding in as far as possible, back arching so he can let
Rei at that good spot, directing him and doing as he’s told, using that huge
cock for his own enjoyment with utter, delicious glee. His hands might rake
down Rei’s back at some point, but really, when he’s being thrust into so hard
he feels like he’ll break and happily, what’s a few scratches?
 
There’s fluid on his belly, and a weird easing of pressure behind his eyes, and
then a lot more fluid, more than he usually comes in a night even without it
being his second orgasm, and he lets out a wordless shout, back tense as a
longbow’s string. Words fail him utterly, and all he can do is twist down,
trying to milk out the last wave of pleasure, a mindless creature of need and
hunger.
 
At some point, Rei grabs Leo’s face in one hand, dragging him up into long, hot
kiss, swallowing those noises he makes, drinking them in as he shoves in deep
and hard, refusing to let up even when he feels that slick, sticky mess between
them.
 
There’s the scent of blood in the air—from his back, underneath Leo’s nails,
and Rei braces a hand next to Leo’s head as he fucks in, taking his time until
he can’t anymore as he spills with a ragged groan into Leo’s hair, teeth
gritted to keep from biting down. Blood magic and sex magic simply don’t mix,
and gods, but there’s so much magic floating about now—cluttering the air in
trembling, glowing strands about Leo, twisting around Rei’s hands as he grabs
at Leo and holds him against him as he pulses deep, filling him enough that it
becomes much, much easier to thrust in again afterwards.
 
“Ah…n-no, don’t you dare,” Rei mutters to himself, snatching at the filaments
of magic that try to flutter away entirely. It’s one thing to dampen that bond,
essentially sealing it underneath a heavy layer of his own magic, crisscrossing
over Leo’s entire being, but letting it escape in any form and speak to its
other half…no, no, that won’t do, not now.
 
The magic in his grasp crystalizes by his will, and Rei blows a sweaty strand
of hair out of his face, not allowing himself to collapse down no matter how
his trembling limbs would love that. “How’s that?” he breathes, trailing his
other hand down Leo’s chest. The seal flexes underneath his touch, soft but
still incredibly strong, a thorough blanket. “It’s nice and quiet…even to me.”
 
The physical relaxation of the orgasm is nothing to do with how relieved Leo
feels when his mind is suddenly, finally empty. He takes in a shuddering
breath, and feels no trace of Eichi’s presence, none at all.
 
Then, very carefully, he grabs a pillow, stuffing his face into it before the
tears start to fall.
 
“Easy, easy…that’s a good boy, just let it out, all right?”
 
Rei slowly, carefully pulls out, grabbing for his own discarded shirt to
gingerly wipe up the mess left behind, and does the same for the cooling,
sticky fluid on Leo’s stomach. Then he allows himself to flop down, slinging an
arm around Leo, dragging him over. “I can’t imagine how it feels to have your
bond broken like that,” he quietly says against Leo’s pillow. “Even dampening
it…that must be painful. It’s painful for me.” He takes one of Leo’s hands,
pressing the bit of crystalized magic into it, a rough, mostly clear crystal
riddled with veins of pale blue. “Some of that magic broke off. If you ever
need to feel it…you can use this, but it will probably only work if you really,
truly need it. It’s not weak to feel that way, but I’d use it sparingly.”
 
“It’s so stupid,” Leo says, voice rough with sobs, curling up against Rei’s
chest, hand tightening on the crystal. “He w-was such a bad person. I don’t
even…know…how many people he killed, and hurt, and I know he doesn’t
care—didn’t care, but…I still…can’t help but…”
 
“You can’t control the person you’re bonded to—and you certainly can’t control
who you fall in love with, you know?” Rei winds both arms around Leo, squeezing
him as he pulls him firmly into his chest. “It’s difficult to call someone like
him a bad person when I don’t think he ever fully understood what made
something ‘bad.’ I think…he just did things, mostly, because he truly believed
it was right. Sometimes, that blurs the line more than anything else.”
 
Leo squeezes his eyes shut, grabbing at that comfort Rei is offering, even if
it’s not really meant for him, even if they aren’t lovers, even if Rei doesn’t
really care. But Rei did know Eichi, better than probably anyone alive. “There
are so many ways he could have been worse,” he says thickly, entirely aware of
how stupid it sounds. “He wasn’t a coward. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t cruel
for the sake of it. Sometimes I think…he just didn’t have normal human
emotions, you know? Like, he was just acting…according to his nature, you know?
No one really…thinks about that…I don’t know, I know this is stupid, he did so
many awful things…”
 
“There’s no ‘sometimes’ to it. He wasn’t human, Leo. Not a sliver of him; not
like me, not like Izumi. It honestly didn’t occur to him to act in a way that
would behoove humans in any way.”
 
Rei tugs Leo’s pillow away and smoothes his hair out of his face. “You don’t
have to make excuses for him,” he bluntly says. “And you don’t need to
apologize for being bonded to him.”
 
“I feel like…you’re the only person that would understand,” Leo whispers,
blinking up at Rei when his face is suddenly exposed. “Or could. Sorry to put
this on you. I’m…I’m glad you did it.”
 
“…You’re not the only person that was dragged into his schemes, but somehow,
you were the only one that didn’t have a choice. So I sympathize.” He pushes
Leo’s bangs back, heaving a sigh. “It’s no trouble. Having a king that’s whole
and sound—that’s an important thing. And I suppose I do actually like you as a
person.”
 
Leo gives Rei a brief smile, and nods, relaxing just a little. “I like you too,
you know? You’re…you’re an interesting person. I think you’re a good one, too,
as much as you can be.”
 
“That’s an interesting way to phrase that, but depressingly, I agree.” Rei’s
eyes lid. “When you’re feeling up to it, we need to talk. At length,
unfortunately, and even more unfortunately, about the West.”
 
Leo exhales deeply, eyes closing. “Thank you. No one wants to talk about it,
they all think I’m crazy.”
 
“You aren’t. And your Lord of the West thinks it’s a perfectly viable threat as
well—he already approached me, asking for aid.”
 
“He did? Seriously?” Leo beams, flopping onto his back. “Good. Maybe we’ll be
able to do something before the world ends, after all.”
 
“Do you remember the last time this nearly happened?” Rei asks, stretching out
onto his side. He pulls the mess of his hair back, shoving it over his shoulder
before plopping his chin down into his hand. “Your grandfather was in charge. I
believe you’d just lost one of your front teeth, that’s how little you were.”
 
Leo scrunches up his face, thinking hard. The tooth—that’s what makes him
remember. He’d poked his tongue into that oddly-smooth hole in his gums,
feeling the tiny little protrusion ready to come in, as he gazed up at the
spire of the Academy—on his own, for the first time. He’d crept into the
dumbwaiter channel, climbed up it, and met… “I met you,” he remembers, with a
slight frown. “You and—gods, I met him, didn’t I? I’d forgotten.”
 
“Mmhm. When my hair was short, perhaps that’s why you didn’t remember me? But
he was the same, he never changed even once. He and I, we were the ones that
went directly to deal with the Inglings. But…just like now, it wasn’t just
Inglings.” Rei’s expression twists, and he briefly shifts away, distracting
himself by looking for his discarded hair tie. “Demons. My own kind. That’s
what we’re facing as well.”
 
“The worldshakers,” Leo says quietly. “The ones that could destroy everything.
But you did it before, right? So you can do it again, I’m sure. You’re more
powerful now than you were back then, right?”
 
“Of all the issues here, that is not the one that comes to mind,” Rei wryly
says, sitting up once the little strip of suede cord is procured, and he rakes
his hair back from his face to tie it at the nape of his neck. “Back then, I
was their prince. Now, I’m their king. Eichi led me there and left the task to
me when he decided to collapse, so I’m single-handedly responsible for the
demise of a large number of my own.” He spreads his hands. “And I’ll do it
again, but understand what you’re asking of me, and perhaps more than that,
never question my loyalty to humankind again.”
 
Leo’s head cocks to the side. “It’s personal, for them? I thought they were
like mindless monsters, summoned by, I don’t know, humanity’s excess greed or
something.”
 
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. They’re just…hungry, they want to breed, they
want to live…and unfortunately, the human world is no place for that. Not for
demons. They don’t think the same way that we—that you do, they can’t.”
 
Leo reaches down, with the hand that isn’t clutching the crystal, and takes
Rei’s cold fingers in his own hand. “Tell me,” he urges. “What I’m asking of
you. So I can understand.”
 
Rei’s lips part, and he briefly shuts his eyes. “The equivalent,” he softly
says, “would be you shutting the gates on your capital, and setting fire to
everyone within those walls. The only difference is that demons—pure demons—see
it as a display of power, not a personal slight, not the workings of a king
gone mad, like humans would.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Unfortunately…my brother
still has enough human in him to be offended. He’ll never admit it, but he
loves the Shadowlands far more than any human territory. When this happened
years ago, that’s when he stopped speaking to me.”
 
That makes Leo frown, a piece not making any sense. “There’s no way Ritsu wants
to let our whole country get overrun by demons,” he says, a little suspicious.
“He loves this country, too. He’s fought for it, he’s my friend.”
 
“He thinks we can all inhabit this world together,” Rei wearily says. “And he
firmly believes that my killing of all of those demons years ago was a personal
slight and betrayal. He’s wrong, by the way. Full-blooded demons absolutely do
not belong here.”
 
“Ah…are you saying that Ritsu is an idealist?” Leo asks, a bit amused at the
thought. “A demon idealist? Hey, how did you guys wind up here, anyway? Was
there some sort of exchange program that I never heard about?”
 
“Ah…no. I ran away.” Rei glances to the side, vaguely embarrassed. “My beloved
Ritsu is much better at being a demon than I am, actually, magic aside. I’m a
piss poor example and was not interested in ruling.”
 
“Heh.” Leo’s smile turns a little sad, and he burrows into Rei’s chest again,
making himself comfortable. “I kinda understand that. At least you had a little
brother who could take over if you really didn’t want to rule. Being born to
it…creates a different kind of person, I think.”
 
“Mm. In the Shadowlands, it’s not by birth…it’s ‘who is the strongest’, always.
Unusually, my mother was the one who ruled before me…so perhaps lineage had
something to do with it this time. Cambions are often very powerful.” Rei
sighs, looping an arm back around Leo, running his fingers through his hair. “I
wish it was as easy as simply letting Ritsu have the title. I can’t just hand
it to him; he’d have to defeat me, or he’d be seen as weak, and not the true
king. So for now, I’ve appointed him as a surrogate king, and as far as the
Shadowlands know, he answers to me. Little do they know, we don’t talk.”
 
“That’s kinda sad. You know, I think he loves you a lot.” Leo shrugs, twining
his leg around Rei’s, relaxing into his embrace. “He talks about you all the
time. He thinks you’re really wonderful—and you love him a lot too, right? You
should talk.”
 
“Have you ever tried cornering an angry half-blooded wizard to speak with them
on intimate issues?” Rei says with a little laugh, twirling a few strands of
Leo’s hair about his fingers. “He won’t listen to me. He thinks I’ve betrayed
him on about fifteen otherlevels now, thanks to Shu’s mere existence.”
 
“Eh? What does Shu have to do with it? Wait, is he like my dad’s counselors
that threw a fit when he tried to engage me to that princess from the Isles,
one of those racial purists? No, wait, you said you’re half-human, that doesn’t
make sense.”
 
“Heh, no. Ah, well, Ritsu really hates Shu’s nickname, the Demon Queen one.”
Things Rei usually doesn’t try to explain to humans—the odd world of demon
politics, specifically because: “He was supposed to be that. My Demon Queen.”
 
Leo’s head tilts so far to the side it hurts his neck. “Wa…huh?”
 
“It’s not unusual for demon marriages to be very…close.”
 
“Um, ew. No offense to your culture.”
 
“None taken. Your culture frowns upon men being with other men, so I’ll offer
that ‘ew’ right back to you,” Rei sweetly says. “But with that in mind—simply
talking with Ritsu isn’t likely. Your bonded fucked him to piss me off, did you
know that? It worked, what an ass.”
 
“He does that to most people,” Leo agrees, and whether he means fucking them or
pissing them off is anyone’s guess. “Honestly, you two are pretty alike.” He
pauses, then adds, “Sorry to offend. Just…I look at my sister, and I’d rather
die than ever let any man touch her, but especially not me.”
 
Compare me to him again and I’ll let the Inglings come for the capital, Rei
almost says, but bites his tongue at the last minute. “You should do something
about that, by the way,” he says instead, slowly peeling himself away, no
matter how he doesn’t really want to move. Unfortunately, work awaits. “It
would be lovely to be able to wed my consort by actual, capital standards. And
should we ever produce freakish, demon children, no matter our sterile wizard
uselessness, they could inherit my lands and his knitting.”
 
“You’re as sterile as it gets,” Leo reminds him. “Even if wizards weren’t, the
kind of unions…these…are. I…” He huffs, rubbing the hair back from his face. “I
tried. Don’t tell Izumi. I tried to make it a declaration. The counselors
were…clear, with me. That I’d lose my entire cabinet and be declared
incompetent to serve.”
 
“Hmm. That’s troublesome.” Rei swings his legs off the side of the bed,
stretching out with a wince when it pulls on the already-scabbing scratch marks
down his back. “Not to be like this, but…you’re going to need to cleanse your
cabinet after this, anyway.” He glances back over his shoulder. “Elvan Wynne.
Ring a bell? He’s married to one of the ruling family’s daughters here, and is
a ringleader in the trade. He might be exiled, but I believe his nephew isn’t.
That must grind your gears, every time you sit down to council.”
 
Leo’s blood pumps cold, but it’s a familiar feeling, something of hate rather
than dread. “He’s not one of my favorite cabinet members. But I always have to
look at a few men that I suspect raped and tried to kill my lover. I have to do
things slowly, or they’ll unite against me. I’d say I’m about halfway done with
my purge.”
 
“If you’re ever sick of doing it slowly, you should let me know,” Rei simply
says. “You’ll find ruling to be a much easier task if everyone that’s honestly
a horrific bastard is just dead and gone. Or at least, banished to entirely
unpleasant tasks for the rest of their lives.”
 
“Is that how they’d do it among the demons?” Leo asks, honestly curious. “I
have to admit, I assumed you’d just eat the ones that disagree with you or
something. Is that racist?”
 
“Kind of? I’m not a cannibal, and I probably would try banishing them first if
I thought it would work…but if they were really despicable, I would just kill
them. If anyone raped my consort, I’d have them strung up by their balls
publicly and let birds peck at them until they were dead—but as a sex wizard,
rape is as taboo as it gets, so that’s my bias, perhaps.”
 
“It’s that kind of taboo to me too.” Leo’s face falls in a scowl. “I just can’t
prove they did it. And Izumi can’t remember all of them.”
 
“Well, I’ll make sure to leave Lord Wynne alive when I corner him,” Rei lightly
says, finally forcing himself to rise and find clean clothes. “And perhaps
you’ll finally have a very necessary confession. Men will betray a great number
of other men if they think they’re about to be the receiver of a demon’s method
of torture.”
 
“You know, I’m pretty sure that threatening demon torture on my own cabinet
members is not great Kingship. Or totally legal.” Leo beams. “Good thing I
didn’t hear about that at all and never will!”
 
“Technically, it’s out of your jurisdiction anyway,” Rei brightly points out,
pulling on his pants and turning around to face him. “They threatened one of my
wizards recently, if my reports are correct—and they are. And threatening Mika
is the same as threatening Shu, as far as I’m concerned, so it’s an even
greater offense. Academy law and Capital law are two very different things,
after all.”
 
“Ah. Good, then! Honestly, I don’t mind you doing work like that. Especially
against people who are buying and selling people, the depravity of that…” Leo
shakes his head, then looks over at the window. “Ah, what time is it? Is it
time to rescue Keito yet?”
 
“It is.” Rei pauses, eyeing Leo contemplatively. “If you want to come, I won’t
stop you, but you’ll need to listen to me if I tell you to go. You’re still
king, and heirless; being in the crossfire like this is unwise.”
 
“Ah, nah. I just wanted to keep him from being bought by someone who wouldn’t
appreciate his, ah, delicacy? Sensibilities?” Leo shrugs. “Whatever you want to
call it. Let me know when you’re moving, I do want to be a part of the big
takedown.”
 
“He’s a total weakling, you mean. It’s adorable, I think, but not helpful in
this circumstance.” Rei shrugs his shirt back on, and sweeps his cloak back
around his shoulders, which shimmers from a deep, black and burgundy velvet to
something more befitting of the Sandlands in light linen. “I have some more
digging to do before the actual takedown, but I’ll make sure you’re there when
it happens. For the night…well, I’m not sure when I’ll be back. You’re welcome
to rest here.”
 
“I’ll take that option,” Leo says immediately, and curls up in the bed,
entangling himself gleefully in the blankets. “Make sure it isn’t too long.
Every single person lost—we’re the rulers, aren’t we? So that’s on us.”
 
“I know. That’s why I’m here, doing my own dirty work.” Rei offers him a smile,
then turns away. “The door will lock behind me magically. Don’t let anyone in,
Majesty. And get some proper sleep, you deserve it.”
***** Chapter 41 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Keito had thought the smell of the slave quarters would be the worst. It is
abhorrent. There’s filth, grime, urine, feces, vomit, blood, and sweat in his
nostrils all of the time. It makes Keito retch, and he adds to the smell, much
to the protesting of his closest neighbors. The ever-present heat of the
Sandlands turns the dank cellar into something putrid, and Keito has to
struggle to keep from gagging over and over again.
 
No, the worst part of the slave quarters, to Keito at least, is the sounds.
 
Children, crying. Adults, praying. Women, sobbing. Men, screaming. Keito can’t
help but be glad that they’d taken his spectacles, not wanting him to appear
“damaged” for auction. If the sounds are this bad, he never wants to see what’s
behind them.
 
At some point, someone grabs his arm, nearly yanking it out of the socket. “Get
up,” the man snarls at him, and he tries, legs half-asleep as he staggers to
his feet. He’s manhandled around, finally shoved out a door into the clutches
of someone else, strong and tall and apparently, his new master. Keito chances
a look up, but without his glasses, he can make little out of the unfamiliar
form, now holding a lead attached to the heavy collar around his neck. Dully,
Keito looks down at the ground, and follows when he’s led, walking obediently
after his new master. Escape is still on his mind, but in a vague sort of way,
a way that means it can only happen after lots of sleep and food, neither of
which have been in ready supply over the last several days.
 
“For being so supposedly healthy, you’re so damned sluggish.”
 
A yank on the leash is more than enough to wrench Keito forward, stumbling over
himself and out of the quarters. The light of day has yet to disappear, but the
sun is still low in the sky, glowing dark red on the edge of twilight. Thus is
the desert, after all. “But what I will give you is that you’re so very
obedient,” his master murmurs, turning to better examine him in the light and
fresher air, grabbing Keito’s chin up in gnarled, tanned fingers. “Capital men
tend to be resilient, I suppose. Isn’t that right, boy?”
 
Mao, waiting just outside, pushes up and off a nearby wall. He adjusts his
cloak, better hiding the bright flash of his red hair. “Yes, sir,” he answers
obediently. “Capital men are very resilient, sir.”
 
Keito’s ears twitch. Like most men with compromised eyes, he relies on auditory
clues for most of his information, especially when his glasses are missing.
Careful application of will and years of practice keep his face a neutral mask,
but his heart thuds. Isara.
 
He isn’t stupid. Isara’s motives make perfect sense in the light of day, even
when he’d been absolutely sick and furious. He sounds as if he’s working on the
side of the slavers. That fits with what he’d expected, that Isara had done it
to get on their good side and infiltrate properly.
 
He complies with the hand on his face, keeping his expression stony. If the man
wants a response, he’ll figure something out. Isara is obviously playing a long
game, and damned if Keito is going to ruin their chances to try and snivel his
way out of this situation.
 
“He was so much lovelier during the auction, when he was flustered,” the other
man says on a sigh, giving Keito’s cheek a pat before snatching him over by the
lead again, and then grabbing him around the waist to unceremoniously throw
Keito up and over his shoulder. “Oh well, off we go.”
 
Mao’s lips purse, and he follows close behind, sparing a last, wary glance back
at the compound. “Lord Wynne will be back at sundown,” he lowly says. “Are you
sure it’s wise to leave now?”
 
“I’ve left my name, and I even purchased you for the evening. He’ll know I’m
coming back to return you. Do you have them, by the way?”
 
Mao heaves a sigh, fishing out a familiar pair of glasses from his tunic’s
pocket. “Not that they’ll stay on when he’s dangling,” he mutters. “Sir. Ah,
Keito, sir. I have your glasses, by the way.”
 
Keito blinks, startled, until it finally, stupidly, sinks in. “Oh, gods,” he
groans, stuffing his face in the man’s back. “It’s you, isn’t it? You absolute
fucking bastard.”
 
“Aww, now he’s being so sweet with me. Look, he’s snuggling.”
 
“…Master, he is most certainly not.”
 
Keito’s master—unfortunately, Rei, the Demon King, Emperor of the
Academy—promptly flips Keito back over into a princess carry instead of holding
him like a sack of potatoes. “Evening,” he sweetly says, pulling down his hood.
The illusion shimmers away in an instant, and Rei grins down at him, fangs
flashing, all pale skin and wild hair. “You look like shit. Ahh, this is
nostalgic, right?”
 
“Unfortunately,” Keito says with a groan. “You’re the reason I smell like this,
so you can put up with it. Ugh, put me down, I can walk. And you, Isara, start
running.”
 
“No, I like carrying you. You’re as light as a feather.”
 
Mao heaves a sigh. “Sir, I can explain.”
 
“No need, I’ll do it.” Rei smiles down at Keito. “He acted under my orders.
That’s all you need to know to not be angry with him, right?”
 
“I already worked out what happened for myself,” Keito snaps, glowering up at
Rei. “But the brat could have warned me instead of letting me be taken during
such an intimate moment!”
 
“With all due respect, sir, that sort of defeats the purpose of being
undercover.”
 
Rei shifts Keito into one arm, reaching out a hand, and Mao sets the glasses
into it. “Here, my lovely slave,” Rei hums, dangling them right above Keito’s
face and obviously still enjoying himself. “A present for you, if you ask
nicely.”
 
Keito’s glare deepens to thunderous proportions, and he snatches at the frames,
scowling more when the fuzziness of his vision makes that a fool’s errand.
“Give me my glasses, and take this damned collar off,” he grinds out through
gritted teeth. “Mao, you do the begging for me, you’re better at it.”
 
Mao opens his mouth, then shuts it when Rei glances back at him, eyebrows
raised. “Perhaps not,” Rei says. “I like the collared look on you. Very
alluring. The smell is starting to get to me, though, and my inn I believe has
a nice bathing pool. Shall we? The collar has to stay on, though.”
 
“This had better be a magic thing,” Keito snarls. “Rei, you know I’m going to
make you pay for all of this, right?”
 
“In what way? I saved your life, I’m doing a good thing.”
 
“My life was only in danger because of your orders,” Keito snaps. “You just
admitted that. And you can be a little more blithe about it when you have to
spend a week in some crying child’s urine and vomit, waiting for death or
worse!”
 
“Considering the entire scheme was to help those children and to put an end to
this for good, I think you could have put up with that for at least another
week. Mao, the door.”
 
Mao sweeps forward, tugging open the back door to the inn in question, and Rei
steps inside. He sets Keito onto his feet, holding out his glasses, though he
doesn’t let go of the leash. “If we don’t keep up this image, I can’t protect
you,” Rei lowly says. “If you’d rather that, well. We can discuss it.
But…technically, you should be following my orders even without a collar on, so
how much discussion should we really be having?”
 
Keito swallows hard, feeling his swollen, dry throat burn. He looks down, and
grabs the glasses, setting them on his face. In a hoarse whisper, he says,
“Just…let me get clean. Please. I’ll play whatever part you want, but…like
this…”
 
“Master, that’s enough,” Mao quietly says.
 
“Now you’re really making me out to be a slaver,” Rei mutters, sighing as he
grabs Keito by the hand instead of the leash. “A bath, and a proper meal, yes?
Come along, let me take care of you.”
 
That’s a sigh of relief, and Keito nods, following as numbly as he had before
Rei had revealed himself. Now that he knows there’s a possibility of getting
clean, his skin crawls aggressively, as if trying to get away from the rest of
his body. The bile rises in the back of his throat. “Distract me, please,” he
says quietly. “Tell me you’ve found something good. Tell me it was worth it.”
 
“Because you let yourself get captured, I know everything I need to know to
destroy them.”
 
Rei leads him swiftly to the bathing pool in question, and pulls Keito beyond
the gated entryway. Mao immediately positions himself there, locking it and
leaning back against it, and Rei swiftly helps Keito out of his filthy clothes,
his hands gentle in their unfastening. “No one touched you, did they? Beyond
the usual roughing up you see in those kinds of places.”
 
Keito shakes his head, in one sharp motion. “I’m a skinny old man, they found
other playmates,” he mutters. A couple of them had thought it was funny to beat
the Capital Man a little, but compared to what the pretty ones endured, it
doesn’t feel worth mentioning.
 
“Mm. I’m glad for once that they had piss poor taste.”
 
Rei pauses, glancing back towards the gate, and with Mao’s nod that it’s all
clear still, he lifts his hands to unbuckle the collar on Keito’s neck. “For
now. I need you to go back with me later, when I meet with the ringleaders, if
you can. If not…well, I’ll figure something out. Here, get in the water and
soak.”
 
“I’ll be fine.” He will, even if the idea of putting the heavy circle of
leather and metal makes his knees wobble. He gets into the bath, and lets out a
long shuddering sigh, immediately closing his eyes and sinking down into the
water. “Just for the moment,” he mumbles, eyes crossing a little, “you’re both
completely forgiven for everything.”
 
“Yes, yes, good boy,” Rei hums, waving Mao over with a crook of a finger as he
drops down to sit next to the pool, shoes toed off to dunk his feet in. “All
clear still?”
 
“All clear, Master.” Mao spares a last glance, just to make sure, and makes his
way over, heaving a sigh. “Sorry you had to go through that, sir,” he says,
pulling over one of the caddies of soap and clean towels. “If I had been able
to warn you, I would have, but at the time…ah, tilt your head back and wet your
hair, I’ll wash it.”
 
Keito tilts his head back, letting the water rinse over his hair, his skin,
with almost orgasmic relief. “It’s no worse what many of our citizens are going
through,” he says quietly. “But that didn’t make it…enjoyable. As long as it’s
worth it, the ends justify the means.”
 
“Now I’m an important client thanks to you,” Rei says, leaning back onto his
hands, kicking his feet slowly. “With lots of money, obviously. Ah, Leo helped,
unwittingly. He tried to buy you as well, the troublesome brat.”
 
Mao snorts out a laugh as his fingers knead along Keito’s scalp, working soap
through his hair, and Rei scowls. “Don’t laugh. It was highly inconvenient.”
 
“Sorry he made it difficult to purchase me back after selling me into slavery,”
Keito says dryly, tipping his head back into Mao’s hands, trying not to enjoy
it too much, and utterly failing. It’s the first kind touch he’s felt in over a
week, and it’s enough to make his muscles sag in relief. “I’m sure the budget
will accommodate. Take it out of the king’s purse, if it’s his fault.”
 
“Mm, unimportant, I’m just whining.” Rei’s eyes lid and he leans forward, the
tail of his hair brushing against Keito’s bare shoulder. “I’m glad you’re
safe,” he quietly says. “Thank you for humoring all of this.”
 
“Not that you gave him much of a choice,” Mao mutters, thoroughly working the
soap through to make sure all of the dirt and grime is entirely gone.
 
“Snippy, are we? The longer he spends around you, Keito, the more obstinate he
becomes, I hope you know that.”
 
“Good. It’s good for him to talk back to you. More people should.” Keito tries
not to twitch too much when Mao’s fingers feel so incredibly good, stripping
the filth from his hair and skin, leaving him feeling like a new person. “And
he’s right, it feels hollow to be thanked for something like this.”
 
Rei sighs, leaning back. “I can’t win with you, can I? Thanking you is hollow
and pointless. If I didn’t thank you, you’d be on my case for being ungrateful.
Actually, you’re both quite suited for one another in that sense.”
 
“The longer he’s without His Excellency Shu, the crankier he gets,” Mao
whispers into Keito’s ear as he leans down.
 
“I can hear you. Don’t take the moral high ground here, you brat. You enjoy
this place.”
 
“I should think he’s more entitled to rebuking than you are, Rei,” Keito says
flatly. “You’re the one that ordered him down here, don’t tell him off for
making the best of it.”
 
“You two are a force of nature when you’re together, aren’t you?” Rei says, his
eyes lidding as he looks down at Keito. “He enjoys the game of this, you know;
all good Servants do. And for him, it’s even better when you’re involved,
Keito, because—“
 
“Enough, enough,” Mao hastily says, hurriedly washing out Keito’s hair. “Are
you sure you aren’t hurting anywhere else, sir? Ahh, I’m not sure it’s wise for
you to keep being wrapped up in this…”
 
“I’m far older than you are,” Keito says, though there’s little rancor in it.
“I’m not in need of your protection. I made my decision to help take these
bastards down, and that’s what I’m going to do, as long as I’m useful, until
the end.”
 
“That’s the spirit,” Rei brightly says, and fully clothed, the slides down into
the pool next to Keito, immediately plastering himself up against his side.
“But I’m far older than you, so you’re under my protection—or you should be,”
he murmurs. “If I decide to burn every single building to the ground and you’re
caught up in the middle of it, I’d like for you to be safe.”
 
Keito rolls his eyes, then quirks the corner of his mouth. “You’re so
immature,” he scolds, then grabs Mao by the collar the second his weight
shifts, yanking him into the bath on his other side. “If we’re going to make it
a communal bath, we might as well do the thing properly, no?”
 
Mao yelps, coming up looking far more like a drenched rat than the artfully wet
Demon King on Keito’s other side, and he huffs, unpinning his hair to stop it
from flopping into his face. “That was really unnecessary, sir,” he grumbles,
shedding his now thoroughly soaked cloak.
 
“I’m immature? You’re just used to children that are far too serious for their
age,” Rei sighs, looping his arms around Keito’s waist as he nuzzles his face
directly into his neck, acting far more like an affectionate cat than any
proper Emperor. “So that’s a ‘yes, I’ll accept whatever protection spell you
want to put on me, O Great Emperor that I serve without question’?”
 
“I’m fully capable of putting protection spells on myself,” Keito grumbles,
though the warm bodies around him and the sweet clean water go a long way to
soothing his nerves. “But all right, O Great Emperor that I serve after many,
many questions, I’ll submit to your undoubtedly itchy protection spell. And so
does Mao.”
 
“Mao already has one. He’s a good boy that listens to what I tell him to do.”
 
Mao sighs loudly, still in the process of stripping, which is much harder when
everything’s soaking wet, go figure. “It’s not itchy,” he says. “Not if it’s
done the way he likes to do it.”
 
“So let me do it the way I like to do it,” Rei says, tilting his head to let
his teeth catch the lobe of Keito’s ear. “I had to use a fair amount of stored
up power to protect our king earlier,” he sighs. “You should help me top up.”
 
Keito sighs, then nods, fluttering a hand. “All right, if you need to. Mao,
sorry to drag you into the bath, looks like our fancy great Emperor here needs
a bit of succor. Heh, shades of the day you brought him to me, Rei.”
 
“Except he’s not so young that he has to be left out this time, hmm?”
 
Mao blinks at that, his shirt landing in a wet heap next to the bath seconds
before Rei grabs him by the arm, pulling him over to solidly sandwich him, his
back to Keito’s chest, Rei trapping them both with his arms planted to either
side of Keito’s head. The startled noise that leaves Mao’s throat is more a
squawk than anything, and Rei’s smile glitters. “Unless that’s not to your
taste, Keito.”
 
Keito sucks in a breath, arms going almost automatically around Mao’s waist,
holding him close. “Rei, you always run over everyone’s feelings, whether
they’re asking you to or not.”
 
Mao feels good against him, warm and supple and reminding him of all the ways
he hasn’t had him yet, and even after the week he’s had, Keito feels his body
starting to respond. His hands splay out on Mao’s belly, and he murmurs in his
ear, nosing aside the red hairs, “Unless he wants to stay, of course. See,
you’re a bad influence on me, too.”
 
“What can I say, I’m pushy,” Rei murmurs, his hands splaying over Mao’s thighs
to spread them as he leans forward, his tongue dragging along the curve of
Mao’s ear. “This is a fun way to make sure I’m prepared, after all, and much
more thorough.”
 
Mao’s mouth opens to protest, then he clamps a hand over it firmly when an
incriminating noise wants to escape instead. Fuck you, he darkly thinks,
glowering up at Rei, who just smiles at him, and pinches the inside of one of
his thighs. Keito’s breath against his neck, the long, lean lines of his body
behind him—certainly, much of the past couple of weeks was staged, but his
(unfortunate) attraction to his mentor…
 
“I…I don’t mind,” he murmurs, his voice still muffled behind his hand as his
face heats up. Don’t hate me for this, Ritsu, please.
 
Keito’s hands, starting to slide up Mao’s chest, suddenly stop, and his brow
furrows. “Mao,” he says quietly, some of the anxiety about the way he feels
about the younger man bleeding in. “You should go. This isn’t a duty of yours,
I wasn’t trying to…”
 
Hesitation flickers across Mao’s face, and Rei rolls his eyes, grabbing him
swiftly by the shoulder and flipping him around. “No,” he flatly says. “Don’t
even try. I’d rather you two go at it and I skip out on a meal if it means you
get this out of your system.”
 
Mao’s face flushes hotter as he finds himself face-to-face with Keito, naked,
and unfortunately, already half-hard. “I—um—sir, I d-don’t think of this as a
duty? But if you want me to go, I’ll…”
 
Keito blinks behind his glasses, looking down over Mao’s body, a powerful
longing crossing his own expression before he wills it away. He clears his
throat, and says quietly, “I want you to stay. If you really want to stay.”
 
“I…” Mao swallows nervously. He shifts carefully, his hands curling against
Keito’s shoulders. “I want to.” He bites his lip, glancing down. “Sorry if that
makes it really weird between us now,” he murmurs. “But I just…”
 
“You’ve liked him for years, don’t be shy about it,” Rei sighs, his own clothes
hitting the side of the pool with a wet smack.He slithers his way against
Keito’s side, his breath hot against the side of his neck. “We have to take
care of that boy, Keito. He’s a good one.”
 
“He’s not a boy.” Keito’s voice is firm, fond, and he reaches up to touch Mao’s
face, leaving it damp on one cheek. “He’s a grown adult.”
 
Surprisingly, he finds himself feeling rather firm about this. His hands drop
down to Mao’s hips, tugging him forward to straddle Keito’s legs. “And I…have
every intention of taking care of him.”
 
Mao breath hiccups, his hands sliding to grip the edge of the pool as he scoots
forward, deeper into Keito’s lap. “…Good,” he settles upon, then laughs, his
head tipping forward to knock against Keito’s shoulder. “The whole time I’ve
been down here, you haven’t gotten me off even once.”
 
“Oh, that’s in poor taste,” Rei teases, letting his fingers tiptoe down Mao’s
back, making him arch forward beneath the touch. “Keito, be sweet to this poor
thing. Ah, why don’t you let me have a little taste first, though.” His teeth
gently nip into the side of Keito’s throat. “Your pulse is going so fast
already…”
 
“That’s just how my pulse is,” Keito groans, letting his head tilt to the side,
baring his throat for Rei’s mouth. It’s hardly the first time Rei has nibbled
on him, and each time leaves him achingly hard, twitching, ready to do anything
for release. He reaches down, sliding a hand down Mao’s abdomen, curling his
fingers around the base of Mao’s cock. “W-we were always busy before,” he
mutters. “And last time we got interrupted through no fault of my own…”
 
Mao arches with a gasp, his own breath a hot, heavy wash against Keito’s skin
as he rocks forward into that first touch like a man starved. Embarrassing,
maybe, that he’s already so hard and so eager, but no one’s picking on him for
that, and Keito’s hands are so nice. “Doesn’t matter,” he rasps. “You’re…ah…m-
making it up to me now…”
 
Rei sucks on the side of Keito’s neck, a pleased little rumble escaping from
his chest. His fingers drag down Mao’s spine, grabbing a neat handful of his
ass and squeezing, kneading as his fangs nip lightly before sinking in for a
proper bite. The blood of an Enhanced is always…special, bright and fragrant
and incredibly alive against his tongue, and he drinks greedily, swallowing
without missing a drop. He breaks away, panting, his eyes dilated, and he grabs
Keito’s face in his hand, dragging him over into a deep kiss.
 
Tasting his own blood on Rei’s lips is always an odd sensation, but Keito’s
used to it by now, though it’s been years. There are too many places he wants
to touch, but his hands are eager and sure as he slides one of them over Mao’s
cock—it’s lovely, it’s lovely, he wants to taste every part of it—and the other
down Rei’s chest, sliding over a nipple with the pad of a thumb. Rei’s always
loved being played with like that. “This…feels like something meant for someone
else,” he whispers without meaning to, flushing when he realizes how pathetic
that sounds. “I just mean—you two are so…”
 
“You’ve obviously never looked in a mirror, sir,” Mao groans, his nails scoring
against Keito’s shoulders. His cock twitches, throbbing in Keito’s grasp, and
he’s grateful they’re in water, else he’d already be making everything entirely
too sticky. “You…ahh….fuck…”
 
“Listen to the mouth on him,” Rei breathes, his own breath hitching at Keito’s
touch. His teeth nip at Keito’s lower lip, pulling on it before he releases it,
licking at his own to taste Keito lingering on his tongue. “You used to scold
me for that. Mmn, why don’t I get him nice and ready for you, Keito?” His
fingers curl in, gently dragging over Mao’s hole.
 
Mao gasps, so overstimulated, so wound-up, that even that touch makes his body
seize and twitch. His head tips back, lips parted and trembling, damp hair
sticking to his flushed cheeks, and Rei laughs. “Guess that’s a ‘yes’ from him.
Look how much he wants you, Keito.”
 
“You’ve done this with him before,” Keito accuses, but the words come out
breathless, tense, and eager. Rei’s the one that was his lover for years, off
and on, but Mao is the one his eyes linger on now, every flex of his lean
muscles, every curve of his familiar, beloved face.
 
Both of his hands move to caress Mao now, pulling him close for a filthy hot
kiss, tongue delving into the depths of Mao’s mouth. His fingers dip down,
teasing Mao’s hips, his nipples, his belly, thighs, before moving back to his
cock—then one trails back, one finger brushing against Rei’s where they delve
inside. “Feels,” he murmurs, eyes flicking back up to Mao’s face, “like there’s
more room here for me.”
 
Mao pants, open-mouthed and trembling, as he rocks back against Rei’s hand,
squeezing his eyes shut as he arches down to feel that press inside of him all
the more thoroughly. Loathe as he is to admit it, Rei’s fingers are nice, long
and skilled and stroking him inside so perfectly that it makes his limbs feel
like they’re turning to goo. “Please,” he finally lets himself say, swallowing
so hard that his throat bobs visibly. “S..sir…ahh…Keito, I need…”
 
Keito doesn’t usually follow Rei’s playbook, but sometimes, he has nice ideas.
He takes one of them now, tilting his head to fasten his lips to Mao’s neck,
nibbling and sucking at the skin there, his own cock so hard that even the
gentle splashing of the water is enough to drive him mad. His finger circles,
then delves inside, feeling the hot, tight squeeze of him against his finger
and Rei’s. “For someone who’s been working where you have,” he murmurs, against
the skin of Mao’s neck, “you certainly do feel tight down here.”
 
Mao whines low in his throat, slumping forward into Keito’s chest. He bites his
lip, muffling another noise that tries to escape when those fingers sink in
deep, stretching and filling him in a way that makes his knees go weak.
“I…d…didn’t…really do what you’re thinking, all that much,” he pants out, his
hands kneading into Keito’s shoulders. “Ah, gods, fuck, that’s a lot…”
 
“Is it? Or are you just awfully wound up?” Rei murmurs, his own fingers sinking
in deeper, fucking up into Mao slowly, thoroughly. “You’ve had me in you
before…”
 
“Just ooonce,” Mao groans, trembling as his back arches in a sharp, taut bow.
His head rolls to the side, encouraging Keito’s mouth on his neck, every single
graze of teeth and suck against his skin making his cock jump and twitch where
it presses into Keito’s stomach. “’s different….ah..f-fuck, fuck…”
 
“Rei.” Keito bites again, feeling something hot and wild uncurl within him,
hands digging into Mao’s flesh with every urgent grab. “Let me have him first.”
It doesn’t sound like his own voice that comes out, the words far too rough and
ragged for his own educated tones. “I need him.”
 
“By all means,” Rei softly says, his own eyes dilated, his own cheeks flushed.
His fingers slowly slide out, much to Mao’s disapproval, if one is to judge by
the little hitching whine that escapes him. “I’d offer to help, but…mm, it
looks like you want to eat him alive.”
 
Mao shivers hard, licking at his lips as he looks down at Keito. “I can be
eaten,” he says, voice a breathy rasp.
 
That’s as much invitation as Keito needs, as highly-strung as he is. He kisses
those licked lips, then grabs Mao by the hips, guiding him into position for
something he hasn’t done in too many years to name. Then, he looks Mao in the
eyes, guiding him down until the head of his cock catches on that tight hole.
His breath hitches, and he whispers, “I’ve wanted to do this for years,” before
he twitches his hips up, pressing those first unbearably sweet centimeters into
Mao’s body, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.
 
That first, aching press of Keito’s cock inside of him takes Mao’s breath away.
In spite of Rei and Keito’s teasing, it isn’t as if he does this often at
all—even posing as a whore in the Sandlands didn’t mean this was common place,
with most men preferring other activities that require far much less work on
their part. So this—this is so much more, and so much better, to the point his
vision tries to white out at the edges, that sweet, tense slide combined with
Rei’s mouth on his neck, Keito’s hands on his hips, the hot steam of the water—
 
“Gods,” he whispers, trembling as he clings to Keito’s neck, panting into his
hair as his back arches and he wriggles down, mouth parted as he sinks down.
Keito’s cock buried inside of him makes him tremble, and he feels his thighs
tensing, the muscles of his abdomen hollowing out when he clenches down.
“Please…fuck me, I…”
 
“Can’t help it.”
 
Keito’s mouth is intent on Mao’s neck, biting and sucking, leaving mark after
mark, finally letting his guard down, letting his control drop. His hips rock
up—not hard, gods, he doesn’t want to hurt Mao now after they’re finally
here—to meet Mao’s, hands rocking him down, until flesh meets flesh in a flurry
of splashing bathwater.
 
Keito finally comes up for air, eyes blurring with every slick, delicious slide
into that supple frame, and his eyes meet Rei’s over Mao’s shoulder. “Isn’t he
beautiful?” he whispers, feeling his spectacles slip down his nose.
 
“Gorgeous,” Rei murmurs, pushing Mao’s hair out of the way for his own mouth to
suck on the back of his neck, nipping into that faintly tanned skin to draw a
droplet of blood to the surface. He feels the shiver that twitches through Mao
just from that, and his hands slide around to Mao’s chest, pinching, pulling on
his nipples. “Good, isn’t it? Being able to really enjoy yourself?”
 
Mao nods mindlessly, trembling as his legs splay across Keito’s lap, as if
spreading his thighs wider will make it easier to be so full. “D…don’t bite
me…n-not yet, I don’t wanna come, not yet,” he groans, rocking down onto
Keito’s cock with slow, but intent grinds of his hips. “It feels…so fucking
good, god, Keito…”
 
If there’s a man that could resist a plea like that, Keito doesn’t know him,
and certainly isn’t him. He reaches down, gripping Mao’s cock firmly, stroking
him with urgent strokes as he rocks his hips up, seizing him in another kiss
that’s as much about teeth as it is lips and tongues. “You’re so good,” he
groans, rocking faster, harder, filling Mao with every thrust. “Just—you
like—feeling it, inside you, right? You’re so—nnh—Mao—“
 
Mao tries to make words come. It doesn’t work, not when Keito’s hand wraps
around his cock, not when he keeps fucking up into him like nothing has ever
felt better. He just whimpers, clinging to Keito’s shoulders as he lends
himself to each thrust, each stroke, arching his back and writhing down,
panting into Keito’s mouth when he’s kissed, dangling right on the edge—
 
Until Rei, that bastard, sinks his teeth into his neck, and Mao is lost
entirely.
 
He bucks forward, a breathy whine escaping him as he spills, sticky and slick
over Keito’s hand, over his stomach, every single pulse making him clench and
tremble anew around Keito’s cock. He can hear the pounding of his own blood
through his veins, the lightheaded feeling that Rei feeding on him has always
brought so much more like this, and he sags, overwhelmed and overstimulated,
voice breaking on little whimpers with every throb of his pulse.
 
Keito had thought he was just hitting his stride, but the sudden squeeze of Mao
down around him in urgent spasms drives him suddenly to the edge, and he spills
before he knows it, flooding Mao’s body in hot, eager pulses. “Shit,” he
groans, burying his face in Mao’s neck, both hands holding him close. “Sorry, I
was—I was going to make that last longer, you’re just too much for me—“
 
“S-sorry…sorry…that…f-feels really good…” Mao breathes, his eyes fluttering as
he sags forward, burying his face into Keito’s shoulder, not entirely willing
to let anyone see how pleased he looks about being so full. Keito coming inside
of him makes his toes curl, and he shudders anew when Rei releases his neck,
his tongue dragging over the twin fang marks left behind.
 
“That excuse only works when I know how fast you used to come in me, too,
Keito,” Rei purrs, licking his lips, a little glazed and sated just from being
able to feed so much. “Nnn, maybe I should bite you again, get you started
again…”
 
Keito’s hands drag up and down Mao’s back, mouth pressing kiss after kiss to
his neck and shoulders. “If you do,” he says quietly, looking up into Mao’s
eyes, searching for regret or disgust and finding none, “I’ll just have him
again. I’ve wanted this for…gods. So long.”
 
Mao manages to meet his eyes for a moment before color raises sharply to his
cheeks again, and he huffs out a breath, stuffing his face down into Keito’s
shoulder. “You should’ve done something about it, then,” comes Mao’s voice,
muffled. “Fuck you, sir.”
 
“Tempting, but I need him useful later,” Rei quietly says, running a hand up
Mao’s back before he slowly pulls away, dragging himself up and out of the
pool. “At least there’s no shortage of lovely things about, be right back~…”
 
“Do you ever remember that he just…places no value on this kind of thing?” Mao
groans, slumping fully into Keito’s chest.
 
“Only when he forces me to remember.”
 
Keito keeps stroking up and down Mao’s back, splashing the still-warm water up
and down it, letting it carry away the sweat. “I didn’t want you to hate me,”
he says softly. “After how we started. And what happened…before.”
 
“We’ve been over this,” Mao mutters, shifting carefully in Keito’s lap to let
his cock slip free. “Ahh, sorry, stings, how do people do this all the time?”
He flops back down again, staring up at Keito through the wet bangs that drip
into his face. “I don’t hate you. I couldn’t hate you.”
 
“I want you, though.” Keito’s smile is a little sad, and he reaches up,
brushing the bangs out of Mao’s face. “And you’ve got someone else. That’s what
I didn’t want you to…hate.”
 
Mao blinks slowly up at him. “Ritsu’s not much better than his brother, you
know,” he mildly says. “He does whoever he wants. I think it’s a fair trade if
I get to do the same, and if he disagrees—well—too bad. I’m…I’m allowed to have
someone else, too.” His expression twists somewhat wry. “He’d keep the Sena
heir in the Shadowlands with him, if he thought he could get away with it. Then
he’d probably never come back out.”
 
“Well…” Keito shrugs, a little uncomfortable, but he’d brought this on himself
by bringing it up. “Fine, then. I do want you as a lover. For as long as you
want.”
 
“Then…that’s that, right?” Mao slowly smiles, poking Keito’s cheek. “Stop
looking like you swallowed something unpleasant, sir.”
 
That startles a little smile out of Keito, and he ducks his head. “I’m used to
things going wrong for me in love. So don’t feel bad if next week you get a
notice that you have to move to the other side of the world or something, deep
down I’m expecting it.”
 
“Next week, I’ll be where the Emperor of the Academy wills it, and so will
you,” Mao points out, folding his arms across Keito’s chest and resting his
head upon them. “So at least we can blame any bad luck on that, and you know
who to yell at.”
 
“I’m good at yelling at Rei,” Keito says dryly. “It’s fine. I just wanted you
to know, that should anything happen…well. Don’t worry about me.”
 
He wraps his arms around Mao, feeling a curious warmth in his chest. “Just
this…is more than I expected.”
 
“But it’s good, I think,” Mao softly says, relaxing into Keito’s chest as he
watches the rising steam. “Don’t let him drag you back into the slaver’s den.
I’ll make an argument for it, and I’ll win, probably—but I know what his plans
are, and I don’t think you need to be there. I think he just likes the way you
look on a leash.”
 
Keito is silent for a long moment, thinking. Then, finally, he asks, “Will it
help, if I’m there? Could I possibly save even one person? I…I don’t get to do
good things directly very often, in my line of work. It sounds like a nice
change.”
 
“Maybe? But if you want to save people…then I’m going to insist you don’t go
with Rei, and you meet up with Morisawa and Akehoshi. Rei already has them
clearing out some of the trading hubs further away from here. This auction
house, maybe even the palace, because the royal family is funding all of
this…he’s going to burn it to the ground, every record, every person involved.”
 
Keito reaches up, rubbing the bridge of his nose where he can feel a headache
budding. “Those two never make anything easy. You’re probably right, if they’re
around…someone will have to pick up the pieces.”
 
“They make me very, very tired,” Mao wearily agrees. “I’d rather deal with Rei.
And let me tell you, sir, coming from me, that means a lot.”
 
“Really? I thought you were close with them. I heard something about you going
undercover with Akehoshi once. Apparently you made quite the team.”
 
“Just because I appreciate him as a friend and comrade doesn’t mean he doesn’t
exhaust me. Also, he was thoroughly tempered by another one of Rei’s spies…put
him around Morisawa, though, and they just…” Mao flutters a hand. “Explode.”
 
“That sounds exactly like both of them,” Keito says with a sigh. “Ugh. Just the
idea of them being in town makes me anxious. This is going down tonight?”
 
“If all goes according to Rei’s plans,” Mao confirms. “And he very rarely is
wrong. The only thing that might change it is if he can’t guarantee Shu and
Mika’s safety. If that happens, it’s instant abort.”
 
Keito rolls his eyes. “Of course it is. Because nothing matters more than the
precious Demon Queen, eh? Not even the lives of hundreds of innocents, not even
if Shu himself would prefer to go through.”
 
“To be fair,” Mao hedges, “if Shu dies, Rei dies. So if you look at it like
that, it’s a matter of self-preservation—though that’s not very Rei-like, so
yes, it’s definitely all about Shu.”
 
“Pathetic,” Keito says flatly. “Understandable, though. But that doesn’t make
it less sad, honestly. Shouldn’t our leaders be better than we are?”
 
Mao’s eyebrows raise. “I’m suggesting you take a role away from this main
conflict even though I think we would work very well together and perhaps be
able to keep Rei in check more efficiently because I’d like for you to be
safer,” he says. “So…I guess I relate. Ah, but maybe that’s just me.”
 
Keito hesitates, then shrugs. “Given some of the things I’ve done in service to
people I loved, I suppose I shouldn’t talk, either. Moral judgment isn’t really
something I can pull off, I think.” He pauses, then adds, more quietly,
“Especially since all I want to do is shut you safely away from all of this,
even knowing how skilled and well-situated you are.”
 
“Mm, but I’m stubborn,” Mao cheerfully says. “And you can’t pull me away from
this. Rei won’t let you, and that’s okay. Ah…but…that aside, I really do want
to see it through. I firmly agree with Rei in this one—these slavers, they
should die.”
 
“We’re all in agreement.” For a moment, Keito doesn’t hear the gentle splashes
of the bathtub, but the heavy clank of irons, and screaming. “Even five minutes
down there, and I’d have agreed.”
 
“I did not like that plan, by the way,” Mao mutters. “And I argued against it.
Vehemently. I tried to convince Rei it would be just as good if I was sold,
but—annoyingly enough, he’s right. I don’t think I would’ve brought as much,
because I’m not capital-born, and it’s obvious.”
 
“Rubbish,” Keito says flatly. “You’re far more beautiful, I’d have paid a
vastly higher sum for you. I mean, the only people who actually bid on me were
Rei and Leo, so wouldn’t that have been the same if it were you?”
 
“The bidding started out higher on you than it would have on me, and that
immediately excluded a lot of small-time buyers,” Mao points out. “Just because
you’re from the capital. And I dunno, I think you’re really handsome, sir.”
 
“And yet I’m the one who wears spectacles,” Keito says dryly. “I appreciate the
vote of confidence, of course. I just don’t see what me being from the Capital
has to do with it, honestly.”
 
“…They hate anyone from the capital, or associated with the crown right now,”
Mao softly says. “They want scapegoats and punching bags. And if someone
legitimately from the Sandlands had purchased you…I don’t want to think about
what would have happened to you.”
 
“Well, don’t worry about it. If it’d happened, I know who to yell at, eh?”
Keito’s smile is crooked. “No matter what goes wrong, or right, just blame
Rei.”
 
“That’s what I always try to do.” Mao’s head thunks back down into Keito’s
chest. “Until he comes back, let’s just stay like this, okay? I’m tired and
you’re warm.”
 
Keito’s chest feels warm again, and he doubts it has much to do with the heat
of the bathwater. “It’ll get colder, you know. Water does that. Unless I do
something like this, that is.”
 
He sketches a rune in the air, which fizzles in the air, then settles into the
water, immediately warming it in a radiating circle.
 
“Perks of being with older, experienced men that are experienced in magic,
too,” Mao murmurs happily. “Thanks for spoiling me.”
 
Keito presses a fond kiss to Mao’s hair, letting his eyes drift closed. “It’s
the least an old man can do.”
***** Chapter 42 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Nazuna of the Nito household, the reigning Master of Coin, absolutely hates
parties, especially when they’re for him.
 
Kuro was supposed to be here. It would have been better, or at least, more
tolerable, if he had been—but the man is gone, off with his family, Nazuna can
only assume. Maybe he’s sulking about his recent demotion, but Nazuna doubts
that, especially when he has his own offer waiting on the table.
 
Now if only Kuro was here to take it.
 
Being the second most eligible bachelor in the entire Capital is troublesome.
Constant offers of marriages, women literally being tossed at him—it makes
Nazuna quick to retreat, huddled up moodily around a bottle of fine wine. The
party is absolutely a means to an end, or so the fathers of those daughters
think, but Nazuna, at least, is capable of vending them off with a few surly
glances and snippy words. At the end of the day, at least he can say it’s
because they aren’t rich enough to strike his fancy.
 
“Hey, Nazunyan.”
 
Sir Izumi, Lord of the Sena house, newly appointed Captain of the Kingsguard,
and as most of the Capital likes to call him more frequently now, the Prince in
the North, is definitely not rich enough to strike his fancy, but he is,
unfortunately, good company, and an even more eligible bachelor than he.
“There’s strength in numbers,” Izumi only half-jokes as he drops down next to
him, a glass of wine in hand. “If we both look unpleasant, the girls will leave
us alone.”
 
“Coming from you, I’m not sure I can believe it.”
 
“I’ve turned over a new leaf, remember? Girls are a big ‘no’ for me.”
 
Nazuna doesn’t believe it, not with the wistful way Izumi’s eyes scan the
crowd, nor does he believe it when girls look back at Izumi hungrily (they
don’t look at him like that, they look at his purse like that). He starts to
believe it, however, about an hour later, when they’ve escaped the party on
impulse, when Izumi is drunk and handsy, and Nazuna’s bed is suddenly occupied.
There are worse ways to spend the evening, and Izumi is even better company in
bed, giving him a distraction from the annoying fact that Kuro never showed his
big, stupid, brutish face. Izumi dozes, and Nazuna grumpily rolls to blow out
his bedside candle. Fine, then. Maybe I’ll flip someone else large and annoying
a handful of coins.
 
The light from the opening door illuminates a shadow of a gigantic man,
silhouetted against the candlelight from the hallway. Kuro looks around the
room, eyes falling first on Izumi’s moonlight hair, then on Nazuna’s blond
strands, and his face settles into an impassive mask. “I’ll be out here,” he
rumbles, and closes the door without waiting to hear a reply.
 
Nazuna’s mouth falls open, then snaps shut, irritation immediately clouding his
face. He hastily hops out of bed, donning his dressing gown before padding to
the door, still buttoning it up as he rips the door open and stalks outside.
“What’s with that tone of voice?” he lowly snaps, pleased that his annoyance
hasn’t started his stuttering up yet. “And where’ve you been, I wanted to speak
with you.”
 
Kuro frowns, looking down at Nazuna’s familiar glaring face. “I told you I was
checking on my sister. I came over as soon as I knew she was safe. Good thing I
wasn’t a little faster, huh?”
 
“It took longer than I thought it would. You were supposed to rescue me from
that awful party.” Nazuna’s lips purse as he folds his arms, glowering up at
Kuro. “If you were earlier, I would’ve kicked him out.”
 
A corner of Kuro’s mouth twitches unhappily. “Is this because I got that
demotion? I thought you were happy about that. But if it was the status after
all…”
 
Nazuna’s brow furrows. “This?” He pauses. “Oh. Izumi.” He reaches out, and
slaps Kuro’s stupid, unyielding chest. It makes his hand ache, but he ignores
that with a scowl. “You’re an idiot.”
 
“Yeah. So?”
 
“So stop reminding me when I want to give you another job offer. Ugh, you’re
sooostupid, did you really think—“ He lowers his voice, his expression cross.
“Did you really think I was with you because of the Kingsguard? It’s a terrible
position, why would I be?”
 
Kuro shrugs, a gesture that could easily lift a few barrels of water. “Hard to
think it’s got nothing to do with it when you suddenly go to bed with my new
boss.”
 
“Because we were tipsy, at a s-stupid—“ There it goes. Damn it. Nazuna is
hardpressed not to stomp his foot. “Stupid party. So he suggesthed we go,
and…what, I hate when you look at me like that, all judge-y. You’re married.
Maybe I wanted to stick it in someone for a change.”
 
Kuro huffs, and one big hand comes down, mussing the hair over Nazuna’s face.
“Sorry. My bad. You’re right. He’s famous for doing that kinda thing, I guess.
Just tell me he treated ya right.”
 
Nazuna growls, and he resists the urge to bite Kuro’s hand. That never ends
well. “I flipped him over and did him through the mattress, if you must know,”
he snidely says. “Like I said—maybe I just wanted to stick it in someone for a
change.”
 
“Don’ bite me,” Kuro warns, a bit of his customary good humor creeping back in.
“‘Member what happened last time. So, how was it? Ya like feelin’ cold wind on
yer back for a change? Should I get used to rollin’ over?”
 
“I’m going to kick your ass,” Nazuna mutters, reflex making him press his
tongue against his teeth to make sure they aren’t chipped just by being in
Kuro’s presence. “I can’t believe you were acting jealous. I’m reconsidering
the offer I wanted to give you.”
 
“Ya hate it that much?” Kuro asks, amused. “That I care who’s gettin’ wet with
the one I love?”
 
Nazuna’s mouth flaps a couple of times, and he huffs, rocking back, fidgeting
where he stands. “I don’t hate it,” he murmurs. “It was just surprising. And I
was annoyed with you to begin with.” He looks back up at him, his face faintly
flushed. “You’ll have to make it up to me.”
 
“Well, now, that depends, don’t it?” Kuro grins, and crouches down, knowing
from long experience that this is the preferred way of speaking to Nazuna face
to face, since every other option involves him lifting the other man. “On what
this job offer o’yours is.”
 
“I want you to be my man.”
 
Nazuna’s eyes lid, the flush not leaving his cheeks. Maybe it’s the lingering
alcohol, or maybe it’s that easy, obnoxious confession of affection from Kuro,
but either way, it’s there to stay. “You’re not tied to the Kingsguard in the
same way now. I need a real bodyguard, one that answers to me first.”
 
Kuro’s eyes flicker with something unknowable, and he shifts closer, taking
Nazuna’s hand in one of his own huge ones, careful not even to squeeze. “I’ll
need th’ new boss’s approval. Good thing ya got ‘im warmed up for me.”
 
“Asking for his approval sort of defeats the purpose of you answering only to
me,” Nazuna mutters, his lower lip jutting out. “I’m going to pay you a lot,
you know.”
 
Kuro grins. “I knew yer ol’ man dyin’ was good for somethin’. Already walkin’
‘round like ya own the place, no matter where…it’s a good look. I like it on
ya.”
 
“Screw you,” Nazuna quips, leaning forward and draping his arms around Kuro’s
shoulders. “Maybe I will make you roll over for me next time, just because
you’re being like this.”
 
His bedroom door picks exactly then to open, and Izumi, sleepy-eyed and
tousled, but at least dressed to leave and go to his own abode, pauses, taking
in the sight of Nazuna and Kuro very much holding one another, all but kissing,
and immediately takes a step back. “Whoops. Sorry—“
 
“Kill him,” Nazuna says before he even releases Kuro.
 
Kuro moves faster than anyone would expect for such a big man, grabbing Izumi
by the neck and driving him to the floor inside Nazuna’s room in one motion,
pinning him down. “Can’t,” he grunts, as if this is all routine for him, eyes
fixed on Izumi. “He doesn’t die. Sorry ‘bout this, Captain. Secrets are what
they are.”
 
Nazuna pulls the door shut behind himself, heaving a sigh. “I have a bag,” he
says. “Let’s put him in it and drown him.”
 
“That won’t work either,” Izumi frantically wheezes, his fingers reflexively
grasping at Kuro’s wrist, hard enough that it bends his nails back. “Fuck you,
I know how to keep a secret!”
 
“Might not drown him,” Kuro acknowledges, “but it’ll keep him busy for a while,
if we drop it far from shore and tie him up first. Damn, he really is a fine
Kingsguard.”
 
“I knew already, you’re wasting your time!”
 
“Like hell you did,” Nazuna sniffs, dropping himself down onto the end of his
bed. “The bag’s at the bottom of my wardrobe.”
 
“I’m telling you, I knew! I’ve known for weeks, and I haven’t told a soul, why
the fuck would I?” Izumi growls, glaring up at Kuro. “Let me go, I’m your
Captain.”
 
“I let him go for even a second and he’s gone,” Kuro warns, ignoring Izumi’s
words. “He’s strong and fast, we’re gonna have to be really careful about this.
This is the hardest damn one yet.”
 
“And he’s got the ear of the king, too,” Nazuna groans, burying his face into
one hand. “This is the worst. No less than half a dozen nobles saw me leave
with him. It’s going to come back to me.”
 
“So maybe don’t kill me, and maybe listen to me,” Izumi sweetly suggests. “I
caught your stupid rabbit-loving arse in a lie weeks ago, and didn’t say a
damned thing! Why would I, honestly!”
 
“What would I be lying about that would make you think I was involved with this
idiot?” Nazuna finally snaps, throwing up his hands.
 
“Who makes your clothes—Kuro and I were talking, and he mentioned his side
hobby, tailoring, and mentioned he made things for you. But when I asked you
about it, you denied it. Why else would you deny something like that if you
weren’t fucking them?” Izumi kicks Kuro in the shin, and regrets it with a
hiss. “Fuck. Let me go, that’s a fucking order.”
 
Kuro frowns, and looks over at Nazuna. “Huh. Hard to think he’d come up with
that under pressure if he didn’t really think so. He’s a great fighter and a
loyal Guard, but he’s not known for swift thinkin’. Problem is, I dunno if he
can really keep a secret. Ev’ryone knows ‘bout him and the king.”
 
“On purpose! I’m making a statement!”
 
Nazuna frowns, drumming his fingers against the side of his bed. “I hate that
he remembers every single damned thing,” he grouses. “Let him go, but don’t let
him leave. I’m still thinking about the bag.”
 
Kuro looks down at Izumi, then slowly releases his hand, and the muscle and
weight behind it. “No hard feelings, Captain. Gotta protect what matters.”
 
Izumi immediately leaps to his feet, putting as much distance between himself
and Kuro as he can in the room, and rips off the dagger strapped against his
lower back. “This is enchanted, and it will cut you,” he bluntly says. “Or do
you need a reminder of our duel?”
 
“Stop, stop,gods, you’re both so annoying,” Nazuna growls. “I hate this. How do
I make sure he’ll keep his mouth shut without killing him?”
 
“He’s an honorable man,” Kuro says warily, putting himself between Izumi and
the door. “If he gives his oath, he’ll keep it. Just gotta figure out how to
get him to give an oath. I’d rather not do it under pressure, Captain. Healing
from that beesting hurts like a bitch.”
 
“I’ll saw your arm off this time,” Izumi flatly says. “Both of you are dense.
If you want me to keep my mouth shut, I will.”
 
“Swear on your king’s life.”
 
Izumi snorts out a laugh at that. “Fuck no. If it’s between you two or my king,
I know which I’ll pick. Tell you what, though—I’ll swear on the Emperor’s
life.”
 
Kuro turns that over in his mind a few times, thinking. Then, finally, he
shakes his head. “Swear on your honor that you’ll protect this secret like
you’d protect one of your loved ones. It’s worth more than my life to me,
Captain. Far more than my arm, to keep him safe.”
 
Izumi frowns, glancing between the two of them for a long moment before he
sighs, lowering his knife and sheathing it at his back. “I swear. I swear on my
honor as a member of the Kingsguard, word of this won’t leave my lips.” His
eyebrows raise. “Happy? Gods, he’s the Master of Coin—he could’ve just offered
to pay for my silence, I’m broke as hell.”
 
“Bribery never works. I guess this is satisfactory, if Kuro thinks your word is
acceptable.” It’s not that Nazuna finds Izumi untrustworthy—he likes him, after
all—but… “If word of this got out, my name would be dirt,” he settles upon.
“Worse than dirt. My family…has a very staunch reputation.”
 
“Yeah, I’m no stranger to that concept, you know.” Izumi raises his hands
wearily. “I don’t care. I honestly don’t give a damn what you two are up to
behind closed doors. But have you seriously killed people because of this?”
 
“No one that’ll be missed,” Kuro grunts, not denying it in the slightest.
“Can’t take chances. Reputation’s all we’ve got. My heritage an’ his precarious
situation, we can’t afford t’be careless. An’ ya got kind of a reputation of
bein’ loose-lipped.” He holds up his hands, palms up. “Deliberate statement or
no, it’s enough to worry men without inheritances like us.”
 
Izumi folds his arms across his chest, glaring back at him. “I’m not an idiot,”
he says. “Consider that. And consider it’s also common knowledge that I’m not
exactly of pure-blooded heritage, either—so your position won’t be up for
debate because of that. Or this,” he adds. “It might be up because you ruined
my evening, though. Honestly, fuck you, I was having a good time,” he grouses,
striding to the door. “Move, this conversation is over.”
 
Kuro stands to the side, uneasiness in the posture. The second Izumi leaves, he
sits on the bed, hearing it creak. “I don’t like this. He’s a good man, but
this is the least safe we’ve ever been.”
 
Nazuna groans loudly, flopping onto his back and throwing his arms over his
face. “This is the worst,” he morosely says. “And I can’t shake the thought
that it’s my fault. Completely.”
 
Kuro shakes his head. “As much mine. Shouldn’t’ve put us in that situation out
in public. Dunno what I was thinkin’. Yer fault for gettin’ me all riled,
maybe, but I do a damn good job of it myself.”
 
“I shouldn’t’ve put my dick in him,” Nazuna unhappily mutters. “My dick
disagrees, but logic says otherwise.”
 
“If it helps,” Kuro says, as cheerfully as he can, “in my time in the
Kingsguard, I’ve heard about a hundred men say the same thing. You’re in quite
a lot of company.”
 
Nazuna kicks a leg in Kuro’s direction. “To hell with you. You still haven’t
accepted my offer, I don’t want to hear your opinions until you do.”
 
“Careful, you’ll hurt yer leg,” Kuro rumbles, and catches that leg, gently
stroking a thumb down the back of Nazuna’s knee. “Course I accept. I got good
opinions.”
 
Somewhat mollified, Nazuna sinks back down, though his expression is still
grumpy. “You didn’t even ask what kind of salary I was going to give you.”
 
“You said it was a lot.” Kuro shrugs. “You’re the Master of Coin, y’know more
about how much a personal guard makes than I do. Heh, this’ll teach me to be
late to get you out of a party, huh?”
 
“It better.” Nazuna shuts his eyes. “Get into bed with me properly. He smells
good, but I’d rather everything smell like you, thanks.”
 
Kuro stands, large hands flicking surprisingly dexterously over his snaps,
buttons, and clasps, leaving his clothes in a neat folded pile before he gets
back into bed. His arms go around Nazuna, fiddling with the ties to his
dressing gown, sliding the soft fabric back over his shoulders. “I made this,
didn’t I? I can tell by how beautiful it makes you look.”
 
It’s an acceptable compliment, unlike the you’re so cute! or you’re just
adorable that women like to toss at him—or worse, that some men like to try
with him. He’s taken out more than a couple of knees like that. He curls into
Kuro’s chest, splaying his hands over his shoulders. “I don’t wear it unless
you make it, these days,” he softly admits.
 
“Good. I’ll make ya enough that you’ll never need to.” It’s easy to curl around
Nazuna, enfolding him in huge arms and legs, keeping him close to his broad
chest. It’s always been surprisingly easy, with him. “Just so ya know. If
anythin’ goes wrong with the Captain, I’ll put myself on the line for it. Swear
it’s a lie and disappear.”
 
You have a wife, you shouldn’t say things like that.Nazuna says nothing,
however, his fingers curling slowly against the back of Kuro’s neck. “If it
comes to that, I’ll keep paying your salary to your family,” he says instead.
“But I’d like to think…he won’t say anything. He’s my friend.”
 
“He’s mine, too. And my boss. I just…like to have a plan.” Kuro shrugs, burying
his face in soft, fine hairs, so unlike his own wiry, tough strands. “Anything
to keep ya safe. You know that.”
 
“This is stupid, you know,” Nazuna says after a moment, his voice muffled where
he buries his face into Kuro’s chest. “If we had good sense, we wouldn’t do
this.”
 
“…Yeah.”
 
Kuro’s fingers stroke slowly up and back Nazuna’s back. One splayed hand can
cover half of his back entirely, he knows from experience. “And yer right about
my family. I shouldn’t…but I’m here.”
 
“I wonder how much longer I can get away with being single.” Nazuna wrinkles
his nose. “I’m getting old. I’m even getting offers from the South now—the
older I get, the richer I get.”
 
“It doesn’t have to change anything, if you don’t want it to,” Kuro reminds
him. “Me getting married didn’t change it between us, eh? I mean, we weren’t
together then, that was when we were apart, but…didn’t change my feelins none.”
 
“It ticked me off.”
 
The admission is a quiet one, and Nazuna wants to slap himself for saying it.
“Ignore that,” he mutters, feeling his face grow hotter. “Forget I said that.”
 
“I knew.” Kuro tugs Nazuna even closer, being incredibly careful not to squeeze
too hard. “You’re not that good at hiding the way ya feel. I like it.”
 
“You’d think if that was the case, other people would realize I’m serious more
often than not.” Nazuna throws a leg over Kuro’s hip in an attempt to wrap more
limbs around him. “I don’t want to marry anyone else, but I’ll listen to their
offers to keep them off my back for now and make them just think I’m picky,” he
mutters. “Imagine my children. Terrifying.”
 
“Don’t make that decision jus’ yet,” Kuro warns. “When ya get older, you’ll
wanna leave everythin’ ya got to someone ya love. Havin’ a family will make ya
feel a lot more stable in the long run.” He pauses, then adds, “But I’ll hate
it. Like you do now. I’ll hate it a lot.”
 
“I’ll just adopt kids. It’s not like I’m from a noble line, they can’t tell me
how to run my house or carry on my name.” Nazuna’s fingers splay against Kuro’s
chest, eyes lidded as he drags them down, absently tracing over skin. “Right
now, I care about exactly one person, and I already give them a great deal of
my time and money.”
 
“And about to give them a lot more money,” Kuro agrees, “in exchange for time,
eh?”
 
Nazuna’s lips twitch. “Keep saying it like that, and you’ll sound like a
prostitute.”
 
“What are mercenaries but whores?” Kuro asks, amused. “I sell my body as much
as those women, ya know? Bit different ways, but I won’t argue with someone who
wants to say that it’s the same in theory.”
 
“It’s the same. As far as I’m concerned, just makes you more attractive. I like
men that get their hands dirty.”
 
“Hey. I wash ‘em before I touch ya.”
 
“Next time, don’t. Get me bloody, too.”
 
“Rabbits really are the most bloodthirsty animals, eh? I should’ve paid more
attention to my Mam’s stories.”
 
“I’ll bite your face off, and you’d deserve it.”
 
“I warned you about the biting, you really wanna break off another tooth?”
 
“…It might be worth it.” Nazuna doesn’t attempt it, though, and instead butts
his face into Kuro’s chest. “Whatever,” he sleepily adds. “I own you.”
 
“Yes, m’lord. As long as ya can stand me.”
***** Chapter 43 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
It isn’t that Rei dislikes High Harbor—he just resents that he has to be here,
now, on an assignment.
 
Being under the thumb of the Academy’s Emperor makes him grind his teeth. Being
allowed within the Academy—as if it’s a favor to him and his brother—is an
insult when it means that he’s supposed to be monitoring things that are not
his fault. The current issue: an escaped pet of a nobleman that thought it
would be delightful to keep a Shadowlands demon (specifically, a flesh-eating,
human-skinning ghoul) within their crypt. Eichi had shrugged, told him that it
wasn’t hisfault that some human decided to import such a creature in the first
place, and now it was up to Rei to handle it—or else.
 
Thus, here he is, in High Harbor, and in disguise.
 
Even in the light of the moon, Rei knows he’s unrecognizable to those in High
Harbor that he might know—and that’s good, for now. The party held at one
particular noble’s house is the perfect hunting ground for the ghoul; a call
for couples to thoroughly enjoy a night of fun, and for single men to be on the
prowl for any ladies unlucky enough to arrive without a mate.
 
As himself, navigating such a party would be nearly impossible. Appearing as a
woman, however, Rei finds it very easy to get where he wants to be, especially
when dressed in a particularly low-cut red gown, the latest fashion leaving it
tightly corseted about his waist. His eyes scan the room over his wine glass,
watching, waiting, and he thumbs a long tendril of black hair back behind his
ear. It shouldn’t be difficult to sniff out another demon, especially one as
disgusting as a ghoul, amongst all of these very normal humans. High Harbor,
for all of its loveliness, is not exactly a breeding ground for oddities.
 
“Well, aren’t you a lovely dish of a thing? Where have they been hiding a gem
like you, sweetling?”
 
Kaoru of the Hakaze Clan, or formerly of the Hakaze Clan, now Lord Kaoru of
High Harbor, absolute delinquent and family disappointment, pulls a rose out of
a nearby vase and twirls it around his fingers, proffering it to the gorgeous
young lady, unfamiliar to him, but with an edge to her eyes that he definitely
enjoys. “Care to take a turn around the floor with a rascal like me? Or is
someone as beautiful as you destined to elude my grasp for eternity?”
 
Oh. Oh, Rei has made a gross error. While this form certainly allows him access
to places he wouldn’t otherwise manage to be, it also makes men like this
attracted to him, and that’s—hmm. His—her, time to be in that mindset or it
won’t be convincing—her lips part, and Rei settles upon taking another sip of
wine rather than accepting the offered rose. “You think you’re very charming,
don’t you,” she says. At least Kaoru Hakaze doesn’t reek of gross, garbage-
dwelling ghoul creatures.
 
Kaoru presses his hand to his chest, mock-wounded. “If a beautiful girl doesn’t
think I’m charming, I’m less than dirt! Where are you from, my dear, and how
can I keep you from ever going back there?” He throws in a wink for good
measure.
 
“The Capital,” Rei offers up, and begrudgingly surrenders, plucking the rose
from Kaoru’s fingers. He’s cute, unfortunately. “Which is less wet than this
place, so I think I’ll be going back regardless. Aren’t you supposed to be the
host of this party? What kind of host doesn’t already have a date?”
 
“Every girl is my date! That’s the privilege of being the host!”
 
Kaoru beams, and suddenly thanks long years of his training for making sure his
smile looks perfectly genuine, even as his interest sharpens. Damn. She’s
really cute, too. He’d felt the barest brush of the girl’s finger, but the ping
to his long-honed senses had been unmistakeable. This girl had demon blood, or
was touched by one.
 
It was entirely possible, of course, that the creature he was hunting could
have marked this girl, and was stalking her like prey. More likely, the girl
herself was the creature, but either way… “This party could use work, couldn’t
it?” he asks suddenly, and offers a hand. “Let me show you something really
spectacular upstairs, a special feature of this gorgeous place. No tricks, on
my honor.”
 
Rei hesitates, her gaze flicking back over the room. Still, she can’t smell
anything, can’t even feel the slightest flicker of demonic presence anywhere in
this damned manor—which is frustrating. If anything would bring out such a
creature, it should be a party like this.
 
The worst, however, is that now that Kaoru has clearly propositioned her, the
stir of her blood is more or less impossible to resist.
 
For once, Rei begrudgingly thinks, tentatively placing her hand in Kaoru’s and
trying to ignore the electric tingle that follows, it would be nice if I could
control that around humans. Perhaps this is just a way the universe has of
telling her that she needs that extra little boost before continuing this
mission. “No tricks,” she firmly says, downing back the last of her wine
(perhaps in a fashion that’s too masculine, but oh well) and leaving her goblet
behind. “Or else.”
 
“Ooh, a bit fiesty, are we?” Kaoru likes this girl, how unfortunate. For just a
moment, he considers doing exactly as he’s hinted, and just cheerfully tumbling
this girl for a fun evening, then letting her leave in the wee hours. No one in
his family would know. He was in exile, wasn’t he? Surely, no one was expecting
him to do anything like duty. Not at a party.
 
Except then more of his own people would get eaten.
 
Well, maybe he could sleep with her before she started to eat him, then…no,
that was a dumb thought. Stupid dick.
 
Kaoru leads the girl towards his rooms, far above any of the noise, just in
case, and opens the balcony doors. “There isn’t another view like this for
hundreds of miles,” he assures her. “Believe me, I’ve checked. What’s your
name, sweet one?”
 
The view of the ocean is certainly a lovely one, Rei will give Kaoru that much.
If he were a woman—no, he is a woman right now, and so therefore, she sighs,
propping her elbows up onto the railing to gaze out over the sea. Perhaps
Kanata is out there right now, flopping about. You’re supposed to be the oddest
thing about High Harbor, my friend.
 
“Reina.” As if her own real, given name is gender neutral enough, making it
slightly more feminine proves to be quite easy. “And of course, I know yours,”
she says with an arch of her eyebrows, glancing over her shoulder. “Lord Kaoru.
Everyone knows you in this city.” Still no smell of disgusting demons. If
anything, now it’s clouded over by the scent of Kaoru’s arousal, which becomes
more and more distracting by the moment. She turns, back resting against the
railing. Why are breasts always so heavy? “Is this really the only thing you
wanted to show me?”
 
“Mm, maybe one of the few things.” Kaoru’s eyes glint, and he shifts, getting
his arms around her from behind, but holding the railing, not her. “A girl like
you—“
 
He freezes, as a mental alarm starts to go off. It isn’t from Reina, though,
but from elsewhere, deep inside his manor, back at the party room. The stench
of black magic tinges it, and he pulls back, going for a disarming laugh.
“Damn, my servants picked a terrible time to ring for my help, I’d know that
bell anywhere. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in the tiniest second!”
Then he’s gone, disappeared through the doors at a dead run.
 
“I’m going to kill him,” Rei mutters underneath her breath, kicking irritably
at the railing. Being horny on a mission is the worst, especially when she’s
not even that interested, but the stirring of magical and biological
compulsions tell her she must, she must, with every single thud of blood
through her veins, and—
 
Rei shuts her eyes, breathing in deep, letting the cold air wash over her skin.
The fine sweat that already breaks across her skin leaves her restless, and Rei
lifts the hair off the back of her neck, twisting it up and holding it there
against the back of her head as she drifts back inside into Kaoru’s rooms,
shivering. Comfortable—she’ll show him comfortable.
 
Without Kaoru leering over her, however, there’s something about the room that
seems…off. Maybe it’s also just a handful of magical senses going haywire from
being so distracted, but compulsion leaves Rei to fling open Kaoru’s wardrobe
in an attempt to sniff out the source of what feels so strange. Something is
under lock and key in here, something—
 
A chest in the back of Kaoru’s closet ends up being suspect. The heavy, ominous
feel of it makes Rei hesitate as she lays hands on it. Holy wards—that’s what
decorates this thing. She hikes up her dress to more easily kneel, thumbing at
the latch. The runes etched into it reek of something old and…hmm. What sort of
family are you from, really, pretty boy?
 
“Touch that,” Kaoru says pleasantly, stepping out from behind the door frame,
blade pricking the back of the young lady’s back, “and I’ll have to ruin that
pretty dress, not to mention that pretty chest. It’s a demon-killing sword, my
sweet, so don’t try.”
 
The touch of the blade against her skin makes Rei twitch and freeze in spite of
herself, fingers curling against the chest. Whatever Kaoru currently has in
hand is also no joke; it makes her skin crawl, a sense of unease settling in
her belly. “You’re making a mistake,” she says calmly, turning her head back to
catch Kaoru’s eyes. “Whatever you’re looking for—it isn’t me.”
 
Kaoru doesn’t ease his tension in the slightest, eyes glittering. “I wasn’t
sure. Thought you might just be some cute thing that’s just been marked for
dinner, but you went right to that chest like it was calling your name, demon.”
 
“Forgive a lady for immediately seeking out a man’s secrets,” Rei airily says,
fluttering a hand helplessly. “It was awfully rude of you to hide it from me in
the first place. You’ve got a keen sense if you call me ‘demon’, though.”
 
“You can thank my sainted ancestors for that,” Kaoru says, voice still light,
affable, though the hand on his sword is deadly steady. “Lucky for you, I’m a
rebellious one, so I don’t always follow their rules. Especially the ones that
make sense, like hearing demons out before executing them. So you have ten
seconds to convince me I’m mistaken.”
 
“I’m a half-blood.” It’s the quickest way out of anything, usually, followed
by—“And I work for the Academy. I’m here to hunt something down, just like you
are. I swear.” Fucking around with a Holy Knight-apparent wielding a blessed
blade and with access to a holy sword is not something that Rei wants to deal
with, actually, even with all the magic in the world at her fingertips.
 
“Oh?” Plausible, but Kaoru isn’t an idiot, no matter how he plays one. “Name
your contacts in High Harbor.”
 
“U-um…I’m actually something of a free agent, so I don’t really…”
 
“What’s your chain of command at the Academy, then?” Kaoru asks patiently, the
sword never wavering. “Free agents are what I’m basically here to kill, you
understand.”
 
“I report directly to the Emperor! I’m a special case, I’m a wizard!” Rei
defensively says, holding both hands up. “A sex wizard, actually? Which means
that you’re really mean, actually, heh, when you start something and don’t
finish it, that puts me in kind of a vulnerable position so you can really stop
pointing that at me, I’m already suffering.”
 
Kaoru turns the sword, letting it prick into that creamy, perfect skin. “So
you’re wearing someone else’s body, wizard? Release her.”
 
“No, no, this is my body—I—“ Rei huffs out a hot breath, shutting her eyes when
that sword draws blood, and stings. “Ow, actually. We’re wasting time, you
know; there’s a creature floating around this place that needs to be killed,
and that isn’t me.”
 
“The ghoul?” Kaoru asks, eyebrow raised. “A friend of yours, maybe?”
 
“No, will you listen to me for five seconds?” Rei twists around, chest heaving
as she glares up at Kaoru, eyes narrowed and glinting red. “No ghoul is going
to sit here and try to reason with you like this. Let me up and let me help
you, and it’ll make both of our jobs much easier.”
 
The tug of black, evil magic seethes at the edges of Kaoru’s senses, hungry and
twisted. He licks his lips. “You’re a wizard? Swear it by your power.” It was
an oath that could cripple a wizard magically, if it were broken.
 
Unfortunately, Lord Kaoru seems to know his stuff. “I swear it,” Rei firmly
says all the same, the twist of unease growing by the moment to combine with
the already unsettling, unresolved feeling of frustration. “Put your knife
away. Those things always make me nervous.”
 
Kaoru’s eyes narrow. “Say the full words, I swear it upon my power. You think
I’m some green kid you can pull one over?” He raises his elbow, as if about to
strike. “Like all the others your kind have killed? If you think I have more
respect for a half-breed wizard than for a ghoul, you’re mistaken.”
 
There are times when Rei strongly considers flaunting status and blowing up a
few things to make a point. Now is not one of those times, when she is very
certain doing so would make Kaoru kill her faster. “I swear it upon my
power—I’m a wizard, I’m here to help, not hinder you,” she insistently says.
“And for the record, if you put me in the same class as a ghoul again, we can’t
be friends. Dreadful things, honestly, no proper demon would ever want to
associate.”
 
Kaoru’s lip curls back, just for a second, at the mention of proper demons, but
he tries to hide it. Finally, he lowers his sword, watching, wary. “What do we
do about this piece of shit, then? Can you find it?”
 
“I was trying to, before you seduced me.” Rei slowly picks herself off, dusting
off her knees and flipping her hair back over her shoulders. “Which is
distracting, you know? You caught the scent of it just after you brought me
back here, didn’t you. Er, or whatever it is you holy boys do, do you just feel
it? I can smell it.”
 
“We sense it,” Kaoru says dryly. He nearly enlightens Reina about his own
status, but holds it back at the last moment. No use complicating things before
they bring the creature down. “You need to be armed? Also knock it off with the
come-hither magic, it won’t work on me.”
 
“I’m not doing anything,” Rei defensively says, adjusting her dress—which
mostly consists of hiking up her boobs again, damn it. “You’re the one who came
onto me without any prompting, so you must not be as immune as you think.” At
least, totheDemon Prince.“I am armed. Magically, I mean. Do you really think
the Emperor would send someone useless here?”
 
“I don’t know. I’ve seen him do a lot of stupid stuff,” Kaoru mutters. Then the
magic surges at the edges of his senses, and he takes off at a dead run,
holding the sword carefully, trusting that Reina will either keep up or at
least not be on his case anymore. “Follow if you can!”
 
The least you could do is fuck me,Rei darkly thinks, and tries to shove that
thought aside as she darts off after Kaoru, heels clicking rapidly on the floor
as she keeps a pace behind.
 
The smell is overwhelming. Not just of the ghoul, but the stench of dead
blood—sharp, bitter, and intermingling with booze long after a human has
passed. It’s enough to make Rei gag, and at the end of the corridor where the
ghoul is bent over her newest catch, Rei can see why as her eyes rapidly adjust
to the dim, flickering light only offered up by candles.
 
The man has already been gutted, entrails on the floor, blood trickling out in
a slow circle around him. The ghoul sits in it, eating slowly, obviously some
choice organ between her teeth. When she looks up, the eyes aren’t human, even
if the skin is—they’re a solid, soulless black, and they look past Kaoru to
immediately fixate on Rei. “You,” the ghoul breathes, her head cocking sharply.
“Of all the places to see you.”
 
What Rei does not count on is being recognized by a ghoul from the depths of
the Shadowlands. It makes her hesitate—the first mistake, and possibly, the
last, when the ghoul stands up, surging past Kaoru in an inhuman, unsteady
lurch to grab Rei by the throat with bloodied, crooked fingers and slam her
into the wall.
 
This is why I wanted out.
 
Horror twists in Kaoru’s gut. Why should he have to see things like this? Why
should he, who’s never hurt anyone, have to spend his life looking at the worst
things there are? Why should he have to see his friends ripped apart, and smell
the foul stench of a ghoul’s breath as she chewed on the organs of a really
nice guy? Why is it so wrong for him to want to fill his life with beautiful,
gentle people and things when the rest of the world is so ugly?
 
I could leave. I could do it again. She’s distracted.
 
The thought is tempting. Surely, those two would take care of each other, and
the world would be better off.
 
Wouldn’t it?
 
Kaoru’s hand itches on the hilt of a sword that suddenly feels too heavy for
him. “Now would be a good time to use your wizard powers,” he calls, uncertain.
 
The problem being, obviously, that Rei is already trying.
 
That expanse of power, usually bottomless, most of it usually seeping over,
feels out of reach. It’s an altogether unfamiliar sensation, one that brings up
a surge of panic rather than the usual calm, effortless way of magicking that
Rei uses, and she desperately grabs at the ghoul’s wrist, her own nails cutting
into that rotten skin. “Can’t,” she rasps out. Why? Why?!Half a dozen scenarios
fumble their way through Rei’s mind—is this a setup courtesy of the Emperor
himself? Is this not a ghoul at all, but some archdemon? No, that can’t be
right, there’s no way.
 
The ghoul laughs, a dry, crackling sound, and tosses Rei back down the hall, a
heap of limbs and silk. “So this is our Prince?” she hisses, black-eyed stare
unblinking. “Lucky me, lucky day, if you’re dead, then the Queen will award
me!”
 
Well, damn. There goes Kaoru’s attempt at staying neutral. At least, when it
comes down to it, it’s got nothing to do with demons, holy boys as his new
friend has said, or wizards.
 
Kaoru just hates seeing girls in trouble.
 
With skill that his father’s armsmasters would have wept to see, Kaoru salutes
with his sword to the ghoul’s back, then executes a perfect leaping thrust,
whipping the point forward with deadly accuracy. Ghouls are fast, and he
manages a long score to the creature’s side, but a lucky twist keeps it from
sinking home. “Aw, just her? I’m going to feel left out, darling.” Get it
together, wizard, if you truly are one. I’ll buy you time.
 
The ghoul whips away with a snarl, bloodied teeth bared. Kaoru’s blade didn’t
just cut; the slash through the stolen skin makes the edges of it char and
curl, leaving it to slough off and drip to the floor in flimsy, rotten chunks.
“What’s a Holy Knight doing here, too?” she breathes, lids fluttering once in a
strange mockery of blinking over dry, black holes for eyes. “You smell good—let
me—“
 
The hallway’s bearings rumble underneath them, and the ghoul pauses, glancing
down to see the peculiar hallmark of carpeting splitting apart underfoot, long-
dead floorboards birthing twisting roots anew…that all come to a precise stop
less than a foot’s length away from her, much to Rei’s obvious frustration (and
confusion) as she picks herself off the ground. “Kill it,” Rei shakily manages.
“Something’s wrong—I can’t.”
 
“Leave it to demon wizards to be unreliable,” Kaoru says with a sigh. He gives
the fallen girl a nod, then twirls his sword in his hand, just once, shaking
off the nervousness that comes with not wielding it in a while. “Sorry,
sweetheart. No Holy Knights here. Just a prodigal son. That’s more than enough
for something like you, though.”
 
He’s not sure whether his father’s armsmaster would have approved of the way he
tears in with a vicious slice, without any grace or delicacy. He’s pretty sure
the man wouldn’t have minded, however, when the ghoul’s smoking, desiccated
head rolls free of the rest of her corpse, both halves twitching in ugly spasms
for a long minute before they finally burst into self-consuming stains, leaving
nothing but a greasy scorchmark on the wooden floors.
 
Kaoru shoulders his blade with distaste, immediately cleaning it on his sleeve.
“Did she get you? Or do you just like looking at my ass while I work?”
 
Hands trembling, Rei slowly sinks back down to the floor as her legs wobble
threateningly. “I don’t…think she got me,” she manages, staring down at the
floorboards—more than slightly warped now, thanks to her failed attempts at
magicking. “But I don’t know what happened, either. I’m…I’m a Nightcloak, I’ve
never felt my magic blocked before.” Rei swallows heavily. “Also, please stop
making sex jokes, or I might actually die.”
 
Kaoru sighs, and turns to extend a hand to the slumped, shaking woman. “Come
on, let’s get you back to my rooms. You’re not fit to be out here right now.
Maybe that thing was more powerful than she looked.” He paused, then added, “Or
maybe you’re not as powerful as you think you are, it’s pretty common.”
 
“That’s definitely not it,” Rei groans, steeling herself before reaching out to
take Kaoru’s hand. It’s about as warm as anticipated, and even more
delightfully worn—a strong contrast to the pretty boy noble image, that’s for
sure. “This is probably that Emperor’s fault,” Rei crossly mutters. “A setup,
or something like it. He would like nothing more than for me to be dead.”
 
“Sure,” Kaoru agrees amiably, without believing any of it. He helps Reina to
her feet, then gets an arm around her delightfully soft and slender waist, not
bothering to resist the urge to tug her close. It’s been a long day, and his
heart is heavy. “Dammit. Enovan was a good guy, he didn’t even believe in
demons. I’ll have to tell his family.”
 
“I’m sorry.” And Rei means it, genuinely, no matter how her mind lingers on how
strange the entire situation is. No matter how she plays it over and over in
her mind, it still makes absolutely no sense. Better judgement aside, a
distracted mind and still-thrumming pulse makes Rei quick to lean into that
hold, pressing her cheek into Kaoru’s shoulder. “I’m assuming…if you’re just
Lord Kaoru, then you want nothing to do with this kind of thing.”
 
Kaoru hesitates, and purses his lips together. “That’s not really…why I left,”
he says softly, pain creasing the corners of his eyes. “It doesn’t seem to
matter. When most people go on vacation, they get bug bites. I get ghouls. It
follows me. Must be some kind of Paladin curse. Thanks, ancestors.”
 
“Ah. Same. Not the Paladin thing, but similarly…things do like to follow me.”
Rei hesitates, then with distracting, needy instinct soundly winning over
logic, she curls her fingers against Kaoru’s chest, staring up at him. “How
much would your family hate you if you went to bed with a half-blood?”
 
Slowly, Kaoru’s arms curl around Reina, feeling her soft curling hair against
his fingers. “Ah...” She smells good. She smells alive, despite the tingling
shock of the demon blood, and a dark part of him whispers that he’s always
wanted to give that a try, see if it feels good everywhere. “I might not mind
doing a little…investigation on the subject. Damn, sweetheart, you really need
it bad, don’t you?”
 
And because Kaoru is just as much a creature of wants and needs some of the
time, he bends his head, kissing, then sucking softly on her neck, hands
splayed out on her lower back, tugging her close.
 
“I told you—I’m a sex wizard—do you even listen to anything women say to you,
or are you too busy staring at their tits?” It’s supposed to be a complaint,
but it certainly doesn’t sound like one. Kaoru’s mouth on her neck makes Rei
shiver and jerk, the last resistant part of her mind deciding this is a
wonderful idea, the mission is complete even if she didn’t complete it, and
reporting back can happen later. Answering to Eichi sucks, anyway. “You’re not
allowed to stop,” Rei insistently says, the hitch of her breath taking away
some of the force of those words. Long, pale fingers wrap their way around
Kaoru’s neck. “Or you’ll kill me. But I suppose, mnn, you’d like that, Sir
Knight?”
 
Kaoru has to admit, though he’s loathe to do so, that he might not be quite as
resistant to sex magic as the rest of his family would like. Either that, or
they’ve never encountered someone as potently powerful as Reina, because the
idea of refusing her at this point sounds about as appealing as having some of
that ghoul slime for lunch, even with the recent atrocities still aching in his
mind. 

Well, the atrocities would still be there, and what was the point of ignoring
his duties as a holy paladin if not to sample the local culture?

Kaoru grabs Reina’s ass, squeezing the firm flesh then lifting her that way,
sending them both to the bed in a tumble as he kisses down her neck, to her
chest, unfastening her blouse as he does. This is stupid, this is stupid, she
could eat you, she could turn you into a pathetic mindless drooling drone and
use you against your family, she could break your mind—

But she was so pretty.

Better, this is better. This is a hell of a way to crush thoughts of sudden,
burdening inadequacy—maybe she was just on a magical low, even though that
makes absolutely no sense at all, and this will help. 

Also, as far as men go, Kaoru is very pretty. 

Rei’s back arches, her own fingers helping to reach back and yank open the
strings of her corset, letting her breasts spill out with the next heave of her
chest. Her thighs splay apart as Rei reaches for Kaoru’s shirt, yanking him
between them and squeezing them about his hips. “You smell so good,” she
breathes, eyes fluttering as she arches her neck, biting down into her own
lower lip to keep from sinking her teeth into Kaoru.

“You smell like something that’s going to get me into trouble,” Kaoru murmurs,
the sound coming out of his chest in a low rumble against her ear. He tosses
the corset to the side with the ease of long practice, deftly unthreading the
laces before tugging it free, immediately fastening his mouth to the swell of
one breast, leaving kiss after red-stained kiss before sucking one pert nipple
into his mouth.

Rei groans, the sound low and throaty as her back arches up, her fingers
sliding back through Kaoru’s hair to yank and pull his mouth exactly where she
wants it--and keep it there. The simmering, fluttery tell-tale of magic seeping
through her veins making her toes curl with the electric force of it that
starts to wrap around Kaoru as well. “I’m…pretty good at avoiding trouble,
actually,” Rei gasps, raking a hand down Kaoru’s chest, reaching further south
to grab at his laces. “But you’re going to give me this, or else.” 

Kaoru laughs against her breast, nibbling and sucking, rolling the nipple on
his tongue as he reaches a hand down, giving her assistance where she clearly
wants it most. He pulls himself out, then warningly sets his teeth on her
nipple, raising an eyebrow. “Be good, sweetheart,” he says softly, eyes dancing
as he draws a fingertip up her thigh. “Careful with your magic there, I can
feel it snacking on me.” Don’t make me kill you before I get it in you.

Rei hisses out a breath through her teeth, shutting her eyes for a moment in a
conscious attempt to stop slurping away on Kaoru when he does feel so good.
“I’m trying,” she murmurs, skin twitching underneath the touch of Kaoru’s
fingertips. “I’m not—feeding on you, sex magic isn’t like that, unless you let
it be.” Rei shifts, hiking up her dress further. “You could let me, though. It
might feel good.” 

“Mm, at a low, low cost, I’ll bet,” Kaoru says dryly, but he’s just
a little too distracted to follow that train of thought to the end, when he can
instead slide his hands up milky thighs, squeezing and rubbing and stroking
them. One hand creeps up higher, a finger extending to trail up Reina’s slit,
gently at first and then more eagerly. “Good girl, all wet and ready for me,
aren’t you? Like you’re trying to suck me in down here…”

“A-ah—fuck—“ Not very ladylike, for sure, but the shock of overstimulation
makes Rei shudder and twitch, twisting where she lays. She reaches down
frantically to grab Kaoru’s wrist, stilling his hand for a moment as her chest
heaves, eyes dark and dilated. “If you…keep touching me, I’m just gonna come,”
she breathes, cheeks flushing hot. “In me—j-just get in me.” 

“You want me in you, love?” Kaoru shifts down, parting the rest of the lovely
silky cloth clinging to her body, urging her thighs apart as he nestles down
between them. “What part of me?” he asks, dipping his head down and giving a
first, questing, experimental lick up her slit. 

Rei stuffs her fist against her mouth, sharp fangs pricking into her own
knuckles to both stifle a breathless, ragged noise and bring a little flash of
pain to keep her grounded, somehow. The rolling, tumultuous twist of her magic
makes her vision spark, her legs splay helplessly apart, trembling with the
drag of Kaoru’s tongue. “I—“ So much for having a silver tongue. Kaoru’s seems
better right now, Rei dazedly thinks, sliding her other hand up to twist and
pull at one of her own nipples. “J-just…do whatever you want…” 

Kaoru laughs gently, and presses a nipping kiss to the inside of one thigh
before replacing his mouth with his hands, squeezing those sweet thighs as he
starts to lap. His tongue flicks out, gently at first, then more eagerly,
delving in deep before ticking up to circle that sweet little bud, drinking in
the taste, the smell of her. “How long since someone has taken care of you
properly, O Great Sex Wizard?” he teases, letting one finger slip inside, then
curl towards himself, stroking over sensitive nerve endings. 

Rei’s lips part to maybe answer that coherently, but words fail, and her hips
arch and jerk with a gasp before she manages to clamp a hand back over her
mouth. The clench and spasm of muscles is impossible to control when Kaoru’s
tongue and fingers go to work, and Rei hears herself whimper, that first orgasm
lingering and leaving her toes curling into the sheets, calf muscles tight and
shivering. The slick that coats Kaoru’s fingers and tongue leaves her feeling
messier and even more overstimulated, and Rei groans, tossing her head back in
time to catch a glimpse of flowers, tucked away in a vase in the corner of
Kaoru’s room, start to get far too excited about throwing out roots and new
growth in spite of being long-cut and dead. Whoops. “If you k-keep taking care
of me...my magic’s going to get…weird,” she manages with a dazed little laugh.
“Have mercy…” 

“Mercy?” Kaoru teases, pulling back to sit on his heels, letting his fingers
continue when his mouth pauses. “Have mercy on my furniture, sweetheart,
there’s some expensive stuff in here. What’ll happen if I give you what you
want, hmm? You’re so hungry down here…”

“It’s not my f-fault if it starts growing again,” Rei groans, throwing an arm
over her face as her legs fall open, hips slowly rocking down onto Kaoru’s
fingers no matter how she begs for him to stop. “Put it in, I’m
hungry everywhere…” 

Kaoru sighs, shuffling up to position himself, one hand guiding the head of his
cock to drag up the wet, hot slit. “You sound like every evil creature my daddy
warned me about, you know,” he murmurs, and presses a bruising kiss to Reina’s
neck as he thrusts in, easing himself into that tight heat.

Rei’s breath catches in her chest, and she slings her arms around Kaoru’s neck,
nails raking down his back as she arches up with a long, sated sigh. “And yet
you’re still fucking me,” she gasps, eyes rolling back as her thighs close
around Kaoru’s hips, squeezing tight, refusing to let him go once he starts
sinking inside. Being full—finally, finally—makes her magic settle for the
moment, simmering just underneath the surface, a hot, red coil eager for more.
“I’m not…nhh…evil, just…just horny, ahh…fuck…you have a nice cock…” 

Kaoru laughs with hitching breath, eyes alight as he rocks in. His hands slip
underneath Reina’s body, angling her for the best possible strokes inside her,
tickling pleasure out of her with every easy thrust. “You don’t fuck like an
evil demon,” he teases, nibbling on the creamy expanse of one pale shoulder,
then stealing a kiss from dangerous, plush lips. “More like a fertile little
nymph.”

Rei surges up, catching Kaoru’s mouth again for a deeper kiss, sucking on his
tongue as he grinds down onto that perfect, thick cock that fits just inside of
her. Her fangs prick at Kaoru’s lower lip, drawing the tiniest droplet of
blood, and just the taste of that fills Rei’s mouth, leaving her to shudder and
suck off that blood in short order. “T-that’s…a more accurate description,
probably,” she pants out, her nails raking down Kaoru’s back, curling around
his ass to squeeze and pull him in deeper. She squeezes down, rocks down,
shuddering at the slick slide of his cock inside of her. “Please…” 

“Ooh, now you’ve got manners.” Kaoru’s eyes burn with hunger as he thrusts in,
savoring that perfect sweet friction, the way she clenches down on him, milking
his cock with every single pump of his hips. “You’re begging so sweet,
love…what is it you want, hmm? Use your wo~ords…”

For a moment, Rei just whines, flopping flat onto her back again and letting
her head fall back into the sprawl of her hair. Letting Kaoru just fuck into
her feels good enough that she wishes it would last forever, or says her sex-
addled mind, languid and overstimulated from magic working overtime. She
shudders, biting into her own lower lip to keep back the incriminating sound of
another climax that leaves her clenching down, shivering all the way down to
her toes. “C….come in me…I want to feel it, please…” 

Kaoru’s mind seizes up for a moment—can’t make a half-demon baby, that’s so
much worse than neglecting my duties, can’t make something I’ll have to
hunt—before clarity bursts through in his mind—no, wait, wizards are
infertile!—and he spills, giddy with ecstasy and relief all at once. “A-aahh,
ah, sweetling, oh, shit, that was…ah, nnh, every last drop, yeah?”

The pleasant surge of magic mixes with how good it feels to be slick inside,
and Rei’s nails dig into Kaoru’s skin, clinging to him as her vision blurs,
going delightfully fuzzy at the edges. She sighs, shuddering as she sinks back,
ignoring the little sparks of color across her eyes when she dares to open
them, feeling only the low, satisfied rumble of power now tingling through her
veins, and the warm aftermath of sex with a man that actually knows what
he’s doing for a change. “Uh huh,” she breathes, sliding a hand up to absently
pet Kaoru’s back. “Nnh…every…last drop…ahh, come here, let me kiss you…” 

Kaoru complies pleasantly, sucking and nibbling on one full red lip. “Hey, I
lived through that,” he says with a lazy grin, absently palming one plump
breast. “Thanks for my life. Mmm, and thanks for the meal, you’re delicious.”

“Told you I’m not going to eat you,” Rei murmurs, arching up with a gasp when
just the touch of Kaoru’s hand alone makes her shiver anew. “B…be nice, it
takes nothing to get me started again,” she moans, threading her arms around
Kaoru’s neck to pull him down again. Her own mouth wanders, dragging down
Kaoru’s throat, feeling the thud of his pulse beneath her lips, beneath her
teeth—and she stops, barely, stifling a whimper in her throat. “S-seriously,
I’m not good at stopping.” 

Kaoru’s laugh is a little startled, and he pins Reina down by the shoulders to
the bed. “Careful, sweetheart, give a man a second to catch his breath. I’m
only human, you know? It takes a minute.”

“If you keep fucking me, no holy sword is going to kill me,” Rei warns with a
breathless laugh, letting her hands flop down to the bed in a boneless heap.
“Keep that in mind if you want to keep your cock in me.” 

“Ah, I’m not sure how much I can trust a shapeshifting wizard demon’s
infertility,” Kaoru says with a sigh, pulling free and flopping over on his
back. “Now I don’t mind missing the party so much. You area party.”

“I’m the most fun you’ll ever have, trust me.” Rei shuts her eyes, stretching
out with a sated little shiver. Ignoring how the bed creaks from residual,
escaping flutters of magic is best, especially when they’re certain to find a
few sprouts here and there later. “I’m entirely infertile, don’t worry. This
isn’t far from my natural form, but, well…” 

“So, what, more tentacles?”

“No, that’s a friend of mine. Less in the breast area, I’m afraid.” Rei adjusts
one of them in question. “I don’t mind them, though. They’re fun to play
with.” 

“Sounds like a Deepling, gross.”

“Hah! Please don’t compare me to that, I’m far more high bred.” Rei twists onto
her side, plopping her chin into her hand. “My father was a human, my mother a
succubus—I’m as gentle as a demon can get, quite honestly.” 

Kaoru twists as well, enough that he can reach out a hand and curl one tendril
of Reina’s hair around his finger, twirling it gently. “And they sent you away
for being so sweet and kind-natured, hmm?”

In spite of herself, Rei’s lower lip juts into a pout. “…You’re mocking me. I
can tell you’re mocking me.” 

Kaoru grins. “I’ve just never met a demon that could be called gentle, is all.
And my family lives up near the Shadowlands, so I’ve seen a lot more than your
average debauched former holy knight.”

“My mother and brother both disagree with my methods of dealing with
humans—which is to say, I’m the one that actively campaigns to keep the gates
to the Shadowlands firmly shut, and to not allow demons to encroach into this
world,” Rei wearily says. “The ghoul that was here—she was escaped from a
nobleman’s collection. I frown upon that as well, but…there’s a reason why
demons have the Shadowlands, and humans have…all of this. Intermingling isn’t
wise. Even I know I can be too much for this place sometimes, and I’m a filthy
human sympathizer.” 

“As a filthy human,” Kaoru says with an easy smile, snaking an arm around
Reina’s waist and tugging her close, “I’m grateful. So, you’re supposed to be
some kind of liaison? Or something? I didn’t know there were any working wizard
demon kids. Or…let me guess. You’re older than your maidenly looks suggest.”

“I’m too old for you, definitely,” Rei cheerfully says, flopping an arm around
Kaoru’s shoulders again. “And, ah, I have a special contract with the Academy.
I told you, I’m a Nightcloak, in spite of that…weird thing that happened
earlier.” 
 
Kaoru shrugs. “Nightcloak, Afternoon Panties, it’s all the same to me. You
know, my family thinks that the whole institution of human mages is newfangled
and creepy? Dad always says they’re acting above their station, like paladins
have a monopoly on making sure people don’t get killed.”
 
“For what it’s worth, I think it’s creepy, too.”
 
Rei presses her face into Kaoru’s neck, breathing in the scent of him slowly.
“There needs to be a system in place, but this one…is very questionable, and
not altogether kind, to those involved. Ah, sorry, this is terrible pillow
talk, isn’t it?”
 
Kaoru grins suddenly. “Are you kidding? You’re the first woman I’ve ever
cuddled with that I could actually tell about myself, you think that’s not
awesome?”
 
Rei pauses, opening her mouth to make a quip about that, and then decides not
to. “Quite a delinquent you are, then. And here I thought you made a habit of
bedding demons.”
 
“Ehh? A delinquent? How mean, I think you should be telling me I’m a dashing
rogue.”
 
“You certainly have a way about you. And I will admit, I did enjoy looking at
your ass when you fought.”
 
“Wow, I think I need to complain to the Academy, this is definitely some kind
of sexual harrassment.”
 
“Complain all you like, they expect it from me.” Rei nestles up close. “You’re
even charming enough that I’ll stay the night.”
 
“Heh, I’ll believe it when I wake up and you’re still here. You sure you aren’t
the kind of demon that vanishes as soon as the lights dim?”
 
“I’m the kind of demon that sticks around longer when it’s dark.” Rei stretches
with a yawn stifled into Kaoru’s chest, settling in for the night. Maybe this
is a stupid choice, but Kaoru is warm and comfortable, and it’s not like a
paladin can do any real damage to her in this state. “Maybe I’ll even wake you
up with something nice in the morning.”
 
“I like nice things,” Kaoru murmurs, and presses a kiss to Reina’s temple.
“Sleep on my chest, and experience life like a real High Harbor maiden.”
 
“Is that an experience that involves you specifically?” Rei drowsily murmurs,
shifting to do just that. “Sleep well, Sir Knight.”
 
Being fastidious about covering windows at night is Rei’s usual modus operandi,
but being terribly distracted the night prior, it’s an easy thing to forget.
Thus, sun pours in with the first light, leaving Rei to wince and stretch,
rolling away from Kaoru’s still-sleeping form.
 
Rei draws the curtains closed, stretching with a sigh. In the middle of the
night, kicking his way out of lingering, clinging dress layers was a natural
process…as well as shifting back to his natural form, which is what he flops
back into bed with as well, all long legs (longer legs), and much shorter
cropped hair. Kaoru can choose to complain about this later, if he wants, but
Rei carelessly throws an arm around him for now.
 
“Mm, you smell good,” Kaoru says drowsily, curling around the warm form in his
arms, pressing a sleepy kiss to Rei’s neck. “I want another taste when you wake
up.”
 
“Oh, do you?” Rei murmurs, turning his head to nuzzle into Kaoru’s hair, tongue
snaking out to idly trace the curve of his ear. “I’m up. High Harbor is just
too sunny for me…”
 
Kaoru freezes.
 
That isn’t the dulcet tones of the lovely lady he’d gone to bed with, but the
low rumble of a man, and his eyes fly open. “Yrggyhh!” he yelps, scrambling
back and falling on his ass on the stone floor. “Who—“
 
Rei doesn’t even blink. “You really don’t recognize me.” He props his chin into
one hand, raising his eyebrows. “I know you realized I was a shapeshifter last
night, and my favorite female form doesn’t look so far off from this.”
 
“You’re a man now!” Kaoru protests, scuttling back on his hands. “That’s—that’s
different than just changing your shape!”
 
“Is it? Ah, perhaps the paladin understanding of a shapeshifter is a bit
different than how we realize it…”
 
Kaoru glares. “What in the hells? Why would you want to take girl form? Just
to—you wanted—was it—what was it?”
 
“I was tracking that ghoul. She was hunting the skin of women. I was trying to
lure her out.” Rei blinks, his head tilting. “You should come back to bed, that
floor is cold.”
 
Carefully, Kaoru climbs back on the bed, looking warily at the man in his bed.
“I don’t go to bed with men.”
 
“You just climbed into bed with me.” Rei’s lips curl into a slow smile, and he
reaches over, running a painted fingertip down Kaoru’s chest. “If it makes you
feel better, that happens to a lot of men.”
 
“Yeah? Yeah!” Kaoru seizes onto that. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it, it’s your magic.
Because you’re a sex wizard.”
 
“You told me that your kind was immune to sex magic. Which, I might add,” Rei
mildly continues, “only works if you consent.”
 
Kaoru scowls at him, and folds his arms. “You’re the worst. My dick just
remembers your pussy, all right? Is it….is it still there?” he asks, a little
hopeful.
 
“No. It isn’t. But I’ve been told my dick tastes the same.”
 
“Bullshit. Your pussy tasted like honeysuckle, that was the best thing I’ve
ever eaten.”
 
“Thank you. I’m fairly certain my cock is similar, though. You’re welcome to
find out—or I’d happily return the favor from last night, or you can put it in,
whatever…” Rei flutters a hand, now openly amused. “You’re aroused right now.
It has a very particular scent, you know.”
 
Kaoru pouts. He’s a grown man, a holy paladin, and a shining knight of the
forces of heaven, but he does feel himself pout at that. “Cheating. No fair.
And there’s no way your…ugh, can’t you just make it a pussy again? I miss it
already.”
 
“Have you ever been with a man?” Rei asks, curious rather than judgmental. “I
know this backwards country has questionable laws, but that’s the Capital, not
High Harbor itself…”
 
Kaoru makes a face. “It isn’t the law that’s the problem, or Capital fashions,”
he says warily. “I just don’t like men. Girls are…ah, gods, the heavens were
made for girls.”
 
“Uh huh. You’re still turned on just by me being in your bed. Maybe that’s not
fair, I know I don’t look that different than my lady form…” Rei flops over
onto his back, heaving a sigh. “And here I was going to suck you off. Well, if
you really don’t like men…”
 
Kaoru folds his arms over his chest. “Stop cheating,” he warns, “or I won’t be
nice. Where have you been hanging out, that people don’t mind it when you read
their emotions and don’t punch you in the face for it?”
 
“The Academy,” Rei sweetly answers, and curls a finger in a come hither motion.
“You don’t have to be nice to me.”
 
Kaoru reaches out, grabbing Rei’s wrist and holding it firmly, eyes stern.
“Quit reading me. If you can’t, quit telling me about it. You want to get in my
good graces, stop using magic without consent.”
 
Rei pauses, then curls his fingers, his eyes lidding as he slumps back. “Fair
enough. My apologies, that was rude of me. I’m afraid I haven’t been around
civilized humans for some time and I’ve picked up a few bad manners. If you’re
truly uncomfortable, I’ll leave.”
 
Kaoru casts an eye on Rei, tapping a finger against his wrist. “As opposed to?”
he asks, finally. “Aren’t you just here to catch the ghoul? She’s dead, right?”
 
“She’s dead,” Rei confirms, his eyes sliding to where Kaoru’s fingers touch
him. That’s distracting, unfortunately. “But now that that’s handled, I have
some free time. Also, I don’t particularly want to go back to the Academy yet,
and I enjoy your company.”
 
“Uh huh.” Kaoru raises an eyebrow. “I might not see eye to eye with my family,
wizard, but I haven’t forgotten the things they taught me, either. At least,
not all of the things they taught me. You want something from me, right?”
 
“Mm? Now who’s the rude one,” Rei sighs, letting his head roll back as he
glances aside. “I have a name, you know, and it isn’t ‘wizard.’ It’s Rei. If I
want anything, it’s more sex, I’m still on a low. High Harbor puts out a lot
less than the Capital, did you know that? I think it’s the closeted shame.”
 
“So…” Kaoru cocks his head to the side, and finally releases Rei’s wrist. “How
was I supposed to know about that? You never even told me your real name, I
thought you were Reina.” His eyes flick down, to Rei’s sadly flat chest.
“You’re definitely the prettiest guy I met, but maybe I’m just remembering last
night, hmm.”
 
“I’ve heard that before. But I look almost exactly the same, minus breasts and
plus a cock.” Rei watches him, then heaves a sigh, flopping his head back.
“Right, I’ll go ahead and be honest. You saved my life last night, so now I’m
in your debt. I dislike being in anyone’s debt, so we can settle this quickly
if you want another roll about and I spoil the hell out of you. Otherwise, name
another thing that you desire.”
 
“Heeeeeey, wait a second, how come you’re the one that would get to eat all my
sexy energy, but that’s supposed to be my reward?” Kaoru asks, flopping back
against the bed. “If you wanna make it up to me, I’m easy. Bring the tits
back.”
 
“I don’t eat your energy,” Rei replies, aghast. “That’s…that’s not how sex
magic works, I’m not a succubus. Do you really need the tits to get off?”
 
“You’re hundreds of years old,” Kaoru says, baffled, “and you’ve never met a
man who prefers women before?”
 
“Preference is one thing, but I’ve been told only enjoying one and not the
other is…unusual.”
 
“Eh? Really? I thought most people only did…I’ve only heard of deviants and
shadow creatures liking all kinds, you know?”
 
“Ahah, well…that’s not entirely true, either. I, for example…”
 
“You’re a shadow creature, aren’t you? Like, right? You’re from the
shadowlands?”
 
“I mean, yes…”
 
“So, you’re kinda not…disproving my point, right? No offense, I just, well,
it’s not like I can totally forget everything my family taught me, heh.” Kaoru
shoves the hair out of his face. “You really want to make it up to me?”
 
“You’re insinuating I like both sexes, love,” Rei sighs, twisting onto his side
and plopping his cheek down into one hand as he gazes over at Kaoru. “Which
isn’t proving your point at all. Anyway, yes, I’d love to make it up to you.
I’m sort of obligated by nature.”
 
“Excellent.” Kaoru extends his hand, palm-up. “Stay in High Harbor for a little
while. I’ve been picking up some weird energy, not just ghouls. Something’s
brewing. I could use you.”
 
Rei’s head cocks before he nods, reaching out his hand to take Kaoru’s. “By all
means. Oh—it doesn’t concern the Wavebred, does it?”
 
“Not unless they’re the ones making trouble, and I don’t think they are,” Kaoru
says with a shrug. “Don’t get on my case about the Deeplings, you’ve never had
to clean up little baby child bones after they eviscerated a holdout of kids
hiding from a tidal surge.”
 
“I have nothing to get on your case about. I have one friend amongst them, one,
and that should tell you my opinions. I was just curious.” It would be very
easy to start playing with Kaoru’s nipples. Rei has to pause, and forcibly not
do that. “Just demons being demons, then? I can handle that. I probably should.
You seem a bit…estranged?”
 
“Just warning you, if I knew for sure what was happening and who was causing
it, I wouldn’t have asked for help,” Kaoru says frankly. “It could be
anything.”
 
“I’m sure I can handle it. Though I’ll definitely need to top off if I’m going
to be dealing with unknown, powerful entities that want to destroy us all…”
 
“Rrrrright. But you’re totally not feeding on my sex energy.”
 
“That’s not how it works, for the last time.”
 
“But you haven’t given me a single reason to believe you,” Kaoru finally snaps,
losing his patience. “I’ve heard about you people all my life, and just because
you keep telling me it’s not like that, I’m supposed to believe you? Over every
single person that raised me? Even though you just keep smirking and not
telling me how it supposedly does work?”
 
“Do you feel drained or otherwise more exhausted than you otherwise would after
a night of killing demons and having sex?” Rei growls back, shoving himself up
onto an elbow to glower at Kaoru. “No? Then take that at face value, please.
Demons and sex wizards are mutually exclusive things; there’s nothing demonic
about the way that I use sex magic, it’s the same as any other wizard capable
of that would. Sex is a means to generate and store power, and it’s from the
act of it, not from any feeding on other people. I can’t even get anything from
having sex unless you’re also an active, willing participant, which you were.
Do you want to ward me to prove it?”
 
Kaoru’s face darkens, and he straightens up, instinctively letting his eyes
flick towards his chest of holy weapons, everything he’d tried so hard to put
away. “You know an awful lot about my folk, but I don’t know anything about
you, I never studied any of this. I never liked any of this, I just want to
surround myself with beautiful, gentle things as long as I can, but everything
in this stupid, cold, ugly world keeps forcing its way into my life, all
right?”
 
Rei’s lips part, a round of dismissive scolding on his tongue. If you don’t
know anything, how dare you even begin to assume I’m part of the problem?
Instead, he draws in a slow breath, shutting his eyes for a moment, then opens
his eyes again, and extends a hand, brushing a thumb across Kaoru’s cheek. “I
know what any demon knows about paladins,” Rei honestly says. “That they’re
dangerous, and cruel, and don’t want to listen. I understand not wanting to be
involved in anything with your family; believe me, I do. But—I’m not trying to
hide anything from you. I don’t see the point.”
 
Kaoru’s sudden burst of resolve stutters, then dissolves completely, leaving
him feeling as drained as if he’d been in a shouting match with his father.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, shifting closer and leaning against Rei’s hand,
despite the fact that Rei is a man. “Where my family’s concerned, I get
all…messed up, I guess. That’s family, right?”
 
“Indeed, it seems to be,” Rei softly says, stroking his thumb slowly across
Kaoru’s cheek as he slings his other arm around Kaoru’s shoulders, tugging him
closer. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. Perhaps we should start
from the beginning, instead of assuming things and causing silly
misunderstandings.”
 
Kaoru gives him a wry, but relieved smile. “Thanks. I’d like that. Hi. I’m
Kaoru. I’m technically a Paladin of the White Holy Order, but I’ve been on a
semi-permanent vacation here for five years. I fill my days with parties and
pretty ladies, and try to keep as many of them safe as I can. Nice to meet
you.”
 
“…And, unfortunately for you, I’m Rei of the Sakuma name—son of Airi of the
Sakuma name, the Demon Queen, Ruler of the Shadowlands—current heir-apparent,
so that makes me Prince Rei of the Shadowlands. I’d prefer to be known as the
wizard Rei, Nightcloak, but even that name these days is a little…” Rei
flutters a hand, running his fingers through Kaoru’s hair. “Perhaps don’t tell
your father either way. Nice to meet you.”
 
The fingers in Kaoru’s hair feel good, and he closes his eyes briefly, licking
his lips. “It’s probably just that you still smell like you did last night,” he
mutters. “I’ve never in my life wanted to enjoy a man’s company before, not
like this.”
 
“Probably,” Rei offers with a soft laugh, his fingers dragging slowly across
Kaoru’s scalp. “I do try to make a point of being pleasant company for men,
however. Women are the fairer sex, but unfortunately, my cock disagrees.”
 
“Wow, my dick would never get along with yours,” Kaoru says with a laugh. “They
couldn’t be friends. That’s all right, he has plenty of friends. Is it, like,
hard for you to shift? Do conditions have to be right?”
 
“Mmnn…it costs a fair amount of magic,” Rei allows, running a finger down the
back of Kaoru’s neck. “Would it really never get along with mine? You said it
yourself, you’ve never found another man attractive until me. I’m willing to be
an exception rather than a rule.”
 
“You still smell like pussy! What if the smell fades while we’re kissing or
something and I throw up? I wouldn’t want to do that to you!”
 
“…It won’t,” Rei says, amused, “because I think that’s just…pheromones, not
anything in particular. But I wouldn’t hold it against you, if you decided it
wasn’t for you half-way through.”
 
Kaoru stares at him for a long minute, then shrugs, and flops back onto the
bed. “What the hell. My family would execute me for what we’ve already done
anyway. Might as well ride every attraction at the festival. Work your magic,
wizard-cum-shadow creature.”
 
“Is that a technical term that pretty holy knights use?” Rei asks with a snort
of laughter, raking his bangs out of his face. “Do you want a guaranteed way of
enjoying this?”
 
“I always say yes to guaranteed pleasure,” Kaoru assures him. There’s a surge
of nervousness, knowing that he’s about to let a man touch him, but Rei is
stunning, even without tits, though Kaoru would never admit it.
 
Rei’s lips part, and his tongue runs over the tips of bright white fangs that
glint in the room’s low light. “Remember how I said I didn’t feed via sex? I
can another way, and it’s…mm, well, a known aphrodisiac.”
 
“Oh? And what do I have to…you know, give up?” He’s going to be tainted, he
knows it, and it’s terrifying that at the moment, he doesn’t care at all.
 
“Blood.” Rei beams, sliding a hand up the inside of Kaoru’s thigh. “It’s just a
little bite. I’m gentle, and I won’t take a lot, and everyone’s always told me
how good it feels.”
 
“How does it make me feel good if you’re taking it away from me?” Kaoru asks
suspiciously. “You’re putting something back into me, aren’t you?”
 
“…A little bit of venom. But it feels good! And it goes away after about an
hour, it’s nothing permanent.”
 
Kaoru’s mouth quirks up. “Then bite me, demon, and make sure it’s good. Is it
like being drunk? I like being drunk.”
 
“It’s like being high.” Rei’s lips twitch, and he dives down, pressing a kiss
to the inside of Kaoru’s knee, then up to the inside of his thigh, sucking on
the soft skin there, right above the thud of pulse that he can feel so easily
underneath his tongue. “High off of some of the sweeter things this country has
to offer…mnn…I’ve been smelling this since last night…”
 
He bites down, his fangs sinking easily into Kaoru’s skin, and the taste of
blood floods Rei’s mouth, making him groan. His eyes flutter shut as he drinks,
each slow swallow helping him to savor it more before he draws back, tongue
dragging over the tiny pinprick of a wound to seal it shut.
 
Fresh, glittery pleasure spills into Kaoru’s body, rippling through his veins
in eager, heady pulses, and Kaoru lets his head fall back, hissing through his
teeth as his toes curl. “Ah…Rei…ooh, is it supposed to be like that? That’s
nice, that’s nice…” He starts giggling, reaching down absently to start palming
his own cock, feeling it steadily stiffen. “Really nice, heh…”
 
“Told you,” Rei breathes, licking his lips for a last, lingering taste of that
sweet blood before he lurches up, mouth closing over the arch of Kaoru’s throat
next. “If you just relax…I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs, sucking on the
skin when Kaoru’s throat bobs, his fingers teasingly sliding up to gently twist
a nipple between thumb and forefinger.
 
Kaoru’s nipples aren’t usually terribly sensitive, but right now every part of
him feels incredibly sensitive, eager to respond to the slightest stimulus. His
back arches, and he parts his legs, cradling Rei between them, sliding his
hands down the other man’s back. “Feels weird,” he laughs, eyes dancing. “Feels
so weird, I thought it would feel like a girl with little tits but it doesn’t,
not at all.”
 
“No? Mm, too solid, I imagine,” Rei says with a grin, kissing his way up to
Kaoru’s mouth, which he takes with an eager swipe of his tongue, dragging the
tip of it against the roof of Kaoru’s mouth. His own cock rubs down, dragging
against Kaoru’s as he rocks against him slowly. “We don’t have to do
anything…that you don’t want,” he rumbles. “Just this is fine. But if you give
me free rein, I’d happily eat you alive.”
 
“Fuck it,” Kaoru says, mind spinning happily into the atmosphere. Everything is
sweet pleasure, and he readily rocks up against Rei’s cock, feeling the
unfamiliar sensation of a thick hard cock against his own. Just now, none of
Kaoru’s usual arguments seem to make sense, and everything just feels good. “Do
whatever feels best, I want it, I want it.”
 
Rei exhales a pleased, throaty groan, sucking on the side of his neck as he
rubs down, sliding a hand between them to curl his fingers around both of their
cocks, stroking slowly as they move. “Then…you should let me fuck you,” he
breathes into Kaoru’s ear, nipping gently on the lobe. “If you’re going to be
with someone like me…you might as well ride every ride, mm?”
 
“Might as well!” Kaoru grins, and brings up a finger to Rei’s mouth, tracing
over the line of his lips. “Only one condition…you have to be, ah, as good at
doing me, as I was at doing you last night.”
 
“What if I’m better?” Rei nips gently at that finger, then licks the tip of it
before sucking it into his mouth with a low, hungry sound. “If you want this
all the time…you can’t blame me.”
 
“You’d better be better,” Kaoru murmurs, letting Rei suck that fingertip in,
pushing it into his mouth, watching his cheeks hollow out. “All those centuries
of practice, right, Demon Lord? Or Prince, or whatever?”
 
Rei hums low in his throat, lifting a hand to push his hair back from his face
as he sucks that finger into his mouth, dragging his tongue along the length of
it with a hitching breath escaping through his nose. He releases it with a wet,
slick pop, licking his lips after the fact. “You make it sound like I’m
cheating, when you phrase it like that,” he sighs, pressing a fleeting kiss to
Kaoru’s mouth before he slides down, lips immediately pressing to the tip of
Kaoru’s cock, and his tongue quick to follow with a wet, warm lap.
 
“F-far from it,” Kaoru says, toes twitching as Rei’s tongue starts to work on
turning his brain to mush, making his spine arc with electricity. “Or, I m-
mean, sure, you’re cheating, please cheat more, it, um, seems to be working for
you juuuuust fine…”
 
Rei snorts out an amused huff of breath, and grabs for Kaoru’s hand, guiding it
swiftly to his hair as his lips close around the head of his cock, sucking it
into his mouth with an eager little groan and an even more eager swipe of his
tongue over the tip, thoroughly tasting the musky drip of precome. He supposes
he doesn’t hate converting Kaoru to the idea that men give better blowjobs
(they do, obviously).
 
Kaoru has the fleeting, ridiculous thought that his father might change his
mind about a lot of things, if he had the chance to experience a demon’s mouth
at this level. The image is so stupid that he has to bite back a snort, hands
dropping to tangle in Rei’s dark, silky hair. “You’re as good as a girl at
that,” he murmurs, rocking gently up into Rei’s mouth, urging him to take more.
“Better than some, even…maybe even most, wow, holy—“
 
Rei’s lips twitch at the corners at that before he follows the tug of Kaoru’s
hand effortlessly, swallowing him down with a breathy sigh through his nose.
His cheeks hollow when Kaoru’s cock hits the back of his throat, and he
swallows hard, tongue stroking and licking at Kaoru’s cock as his fingers splay
over Kaoru’s thighs, a thumb absently stroking over the spot where he’d bitten
affectionately as he works. You taste good in two locations, congratulations.
 
Kaoru starts to drift.
 
His mind detaches slightly from his body, until he’s floating in a cloud of
heady pleasure, looking down at his own body, eagerly writhing beneath a demon
prince. His parents would be so disappointed, and that thought just makes his
thighs tense, makes him rut up harder against Rei’s mouth. He might have some
issues, but at least he feels good now, at least he can have Rei’s mouth now,
even if there’ll be (possibly literal) hell to pay later. “You’re so good at
that,” he hears himself say, dreamy and floating. “Good…tongue. Long.”
 
Rei pulls off with a long, wet suck, licking his lips as he watches Kaoru
through lidded eyes for a moment. “You’re not allowed to pass out yet,” he
teases, shivering as shifting reminds him of how hard he is between his own
legs, and how his blood won’t stop thundering in his ears. “I’m still playing
with you. Mm, is that oil on your bedside table? Hand it over.”
 
“I’m not passing out,” Kaoru protests, wriggling up and twisting to grab the
oil, carefully passing over the little pitcher. “Heh, I could never keep
something like that by my bed, back at home in the Hinterlands. Some girls need
it, you know? You didn’t, you were all…juicy, it was so nice. Honeysuckle, I’ve
got to get some honeysuckle oil.”
 
“Uh huh.” Rei presses a kiss to the inside of Kaoru’s thigh as he tips the oil
over into his hand, letting it drip and warm over his fingers. “Ever had a girl
do this to you?” he asks, honestly curious as he lets a single finger drag
against Kaoru’s hole. “I’ve heard some men still enjoy it quite a bit, even if
they aren’t interested in other men…”
 
Kaoru licks his lips, letting the tip of his tongue linger outside of his mouth
for a long minute before he sucks it back in. “I like it,” he finally says,
because it looks like Rei is going to figure that much out anyway. “Girls have
the cutest, littlest hands, though, but hey, at least you don’t have long
nails!”
 
“Finely curated for this very reason,” Rei sweetly says, and pauses just long
enough for Kaoru to inhale before he lets that finger sink inside—far more
easily than he expects, though the oil, slick and slippery as it is, certainly
helps. His breath hitches at how tight Kaoru feels inside, that slick clench of
muscles making him press his finger deeper, and curl it back towards himself
eagerly. “My fingers are nice and long, though…makes it easier to reach all the
best places…”
 
“B-best places? Heh, I just thought it was like a girl, you know, it feels good
because it’s nice to fill a hole, but—nnneeep!”
 
The strangled yelp that forces its way out of Kaoru’s mouth is loud enough to
echo around the room, and Kaoru loses track of himself for a disorienting
moment, until he realizes what he’s seeing is the ceiling, and he’d hit his
back immediately when white-hot pleasure had suddenly unfurled inside his
belly. “Do that again,” he demands, sweat curling at the base of his neck. “Do
it again, don’t stop, just keep going—“
 
“It’s better than just filling a hole,” Rei says with a little laugh, wetting
his lower lip hungrily as he watches the way Kaoru’s back arches, the way his
hips move, the way sweat breaks out over his skin. He twists his wrist slowly,
pressing and rubbing in that same spot, taking his sweet time fucking Kaoru
with one finger as he leans down to press his mouth back to the head of Kaoru’s
cock, licking and sucking at the tip when it leaks over his stomach.
 
“Suuuuuure is,” Kaoru says dreamily, letting his eyes fog over, reaching down
to rub his stomach, as if he can touch Rei’s fingers through that thin barrier.
“How’s it feel to you? As good as a pussy, or not even close? Ah, nnn, you’ve
gotta—do that again, though…”
 
“Wouldn’t know,” Rei says, licking a droplet off the tip of Kaoru’s cock. “I’ve
never had my fingers inside of a woman. But I think you feel—“ He draws his
hand back slightly, enough to wriggle a second finger inside next to the first
one. “Like you’re meant for this. Nice and hot and tight…” His fingers spread
apart, stretching that tight hole.
 
“Ooh, that’s, that’s more, isn’t it?” Kaoru asks, giddy and over-stimulated,
hands curling in his own bedsheets. “Damn, Rei, just—ooh, that’s actually kind
of nice, now that I’m used to it? Am I supposed to, uh, do anything? Or just
lay here?”
 
“You can do more in a minute—for now, just…lie back and relax.”
 
Rei leans back, his fingers working a moment longer before sliding out. He
reaches for the oil instead, letting it drip and pool into his hand, swiping it
down the long, thick length of his cock. “This is a lot more,” he murmurs,
reaching for one of Kaoru’s hands and dragging it down to wrap around his cock.
“But I think you’ll like it. If anything hurts, though…you can tell me, and
I’ll stop.”
 
“Spoken like someone…who’s never been through training with my father,” Kaoru
says, amused, and wraps his fingers around the pulsing cock in his hand, head
tilting to the side. “Huh. Not as gross as I thought.”
 
“I think I’m a bit more sympathetic than your father,” Rei says with a
breathless laugh, dropping forward onto his hands as he leans up to steal
Kaoru’s mouth in a kiss, his cock twitching between Kaoru’s fingers. “Mmnn…when
you touch it like that…that feels nice,” he sighs, eyes lidded. “You have nice
hands.”
 
“Not too rough? I know girls like this kind of thing, but I’ve never done it on
a guy before.” Kaoru is mildly entranced, letting his fingers dance up and down
the hard shaft. “Can I, like, learn to do this on myself? You feel so good…”
 
“It’s harder to hit the right…nn…angles, I think,” Rei gasps, eyes flicking
down when Kaoru’s thumb drags over the sensitive head of his cock. He pulses
within Kaoru’s hold, dripping onto his stomach. “If you…have no complaints, I’m
going to put it in you—that you definitely can’t do yourself, heh.”
 
Kaoru lifts his head, looking at Rei with a raised eyebrow. “You think I’m
about to stop you now? When it feels like this? Just do it, if you wait I’ll
change my mind.”
 
“Good,” Rei cheerfully says, grinning as he hikes one of Kaoru’s legs up and
over his shoulder. “Then keep that in mind when you’re stuffed full, pretty
knight.”
 
He eases the head of his cock to that slick, tight hole, and doesn’t wait, lest
Kaoru really start to change his mind. That first, aching press forward makes
him grit his teeth, his eyes fluttering as he has to work to get the head
inside, firm, steady pressure finally making it pop inside. The tightness takes
his breath away, and Rei’s fingers grip Kaoru’s hips tightly, hard enough to
leave fingerprints behind.
 
Kaoru makes a strangled, startled noise in his chest, ripped out of him by the
sudden mind-numbing stretch of a thick cock inside of him for the first time.
His lungs feel like they’re working faster than ever, and he has wild thoughts
of how stupid and careless he is, thinking he can handle something so
incredibly huge. “That, ah, wow, that doesn’t feel like your fingers at all,
you know? Heh…heheh….wow….ahh….holy…”
 
“Try…to relax,” Rei breathes, his own self-control fraying as he rocks in
slowly, trying not to go too fast as he bends forward, mouth closing around one
of Kaoru’s nipples to gently bite down. He sucks on it before mouthing his way
up to Kaoru’s throat, sucking on the skin and inhaling deeply, smelling the
thud of Kaoru’s pulse, his sweat, his blood just below the surface—
 
He bites down again, unable to help himself, and his hands curl around Kaoru’s
ass, hefting up his hips, pulling him onto his cock another few centimeters as
he stifles the groan welling up from his chest into Kaoru’s skin.
 
“A-ah, that’s non-consensu—fuck it, do it again,” Kaoru groans, wrapping his
legs around Rei’s waist, rocking with him with every bite and thrust. “Do
me…slow,” he slurs, licking his lips, letting his spine undulate with each
movement. “Make me feel, nnh, make me feel every single…every part of it,
please…”
 
The blood Rei swallows is just a tiny mouthful, but it’s enough to make him
shiver down to his toes as he releases Kaoru’s throat, tongue dragging over the
skin in the wake of his teeth. “That’s…the idea,” he breathes, his fingers
squeezing, kneading as he grinds in slowly, licking his lips when he finally
feels himself slide in further, almost all the way. “Ahh…that’s it…good boy,
you’re being so good for me.” Rei surges forward, planting a hand next to
Kaoru’s head as he fucks in harder, but no faster, taking his time. “See? Told
you…you were made for this…”
 
“Feels good.” Kaoru’s cock surges and pulses, his abdomen fluttering, tense,
and hungry. “Feels like—nnh, I like how deep you are, that’s nice, I thought
I’d hate this…” Instead of pain, Kaoru feels like he’s being stirred up, like
some dormant pleasure deep inside him is being awakened into a beast. “I’m
gonna laugh at any girl that says this hurts, huh?”
 
“Maybe they’re just…a bit more delicate?” Rei settles upon with a breathless
laugh, and the next thrust leaves him bottoming out inside, gritting his teeth
as their skin slaps and sticks together, and he scoots his knees closer,
changing the angle, making it easier to thrust in. “Mm…how’s that?” he
breathlessly asks. “You’re taking all of it.”
 
“I guess I’m great at it,” Kaoru groans, though that last surge inside of him
makes him squeak, thighs tightening involuntarily, as if he’s going to shove
Rei away. “H-hold on, just, just pause for a minute, it’s really full right
now, that’s—just…nn—“
 
Rei does as he’s told, even though the effort it takes to stay still makes his
thighs tremble, his back taught and arms trembling. “It’s a lot, I know,” he
pants out, holding still, even as he presses kisses to Kaoru’s mouth, to his
neck, to his forehead. “You’re doing…so well. Just ride it out, yeah?”
 
Kaoru blinks slowly, trying to get the world back into some focus. The dreamy
sleepiness of the bite has mostly faded, leaving him breathing fast, reaching
down to grab his own thighs, pulling them farther apart. “Maybe, um, a little
bit m-more oil?”
 
“Already on it.” Rei shifts, pulling out halfway as he does, careful and slow
as he reaches for the oil, tipping the rest of it over onto his cock. “You’re
thinking too much,” he murmurs, smoothing a hand over Kaoru’s cock, stroking
his thumb over the tip. “Just try and enjoy yourself.”
 
The slickness of the oil helps, making Kaoru sigh and relax, letting his nails
drag gently down Rei’s back. “You’re, ah, doing a pretty good job…of making me
think men might not be too bad. Nnh, it makes me mad that guys really are
better at touching them like that…”
 
“It’s almost like we touch our own all the time,” Rei teasingly says, bending
low to suck on Kaoru’s lower lip, his tongue running over the swollen flesh as
he rocks in again slowly. “Goes in a lot easier now, huh…” His fingers squeeze
around Kaoru’s cock, stroking from root to tip. “You can grab and claw me
however you like—I—mmn—like having marks later—“
 
“Like you couldn’t just—heal them?” Kaoru asks, a smile in his voice, even as
he wraps his legs more tightly around Rei’s waist. “Forget that, forget it, you
move better when both of your hands are on the bed.”
 
He leans up, and presses a hard kiss to Rei’s mouth, just as soft as it was
when Rei had tits. “I can get a handie any time, just fuck me.”
 
Rei exhales a laugh against Kaoru’s mouth, his hands sliding back down to the
bed. “Don’t stop me this time, then,” he breathes, sucking on Kaoru’s tongue as
he rocks his way in again, the deep, slick slide of his cock striking in deeper
this time. The head of his cock rubs into the slick walls of Kaoru’s ass, the
hard, aching pulse of his cock leaving him breathless.
 
Kaoru’s mind fizzles blank again, this time from sheer pleasure instead of from
Rei’s bite. The thick head of that cock is driving into him, teaching him the
shape of it, inflaming him with every hard thrust. “H-harder…” he breathes,
grabbing his own thighs, yanking them up and apart, letting Rei slam in even
deeper, even if it makes his ass clench involuntarily. “H-harder—nnh!
That’s—that’s good, that’s good, that’s—right there, if this is what it’s like
with a man, I might—nnh—“
 
“—might wanna do it again?” Rei taunts with a breathless laugh, his own cheeks
flushing as he thrusts in harder, the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh
stealing his own breath each time. The head of his cock bumps and rubs against
something textured deep inside, and Rei shifts, hiking Kaoru’s hips up further
when he ruts in to hit that spot again. “You…nhh…look so good like this,” he
pants out, his eyes lidded and dark as he just enjoys, the heady pull of magic
an afterthought this time when Kaoru feels so good.
 
It takes Kaoru by surprise, even with the slowly building pleasure, even with
Rei stirring him up inside, even with the way his cock is as hard as possible.
It takes him by surprise, and he cries out, clawing at Rei’s back as he spills,
over and over, painting their stomachs. “That’s it, that’s it, right there,
that’s—shit, that’s good—“
 
Rei bends forward over him, planting a hand next to his head as he thrusts in
through the clenching, the spasming around him, his own breath hot and fast
against Kaoru’s neck. “I know, love, I know,” he groans, his head knocking down
against Kaoru’s shoulder. “You’re so good—coming on my cock l-like you—love
it—“
 
He spills with a low, rasping growl, biting down into his own lower lip to keep
from biting Kaoru again as he pulses inside of him, leaving Kaoru full and
slick. “You—ahh…gods, you’re so good,” he groans, slumping forward and pressing
a heated kiss to Kaoru’s mouth.
 
Kaoru kisses back, deep and long and slow, nibbling and sucking on Rei’s pretty
lips. “If it was something like this,” he breathes, eyelids fluttering, nails
sinking into Rei’s back, “I’d do it all the time. Only with you, though, only
with you, it’s only going to be like this with you, I can, ah, I can feel it…”
 
“Every other man is going to be terrible compared to me,” Rei reveals with a
breathy sigh, kissing Kaoru again as he shifts, his fingers flexing against the
bed. “So just…mmn…stick to me…ah, I’m going to pull out…or else you shifting
like that is going to get me started again…”
 
“Pull out,” Kaoru says immediately, wincing as the pressure inside of him
starts to turn more sour than sweet. “Whoo, you’re a big one, aren’t you?”
 
“My apologies,” Rei says with a laugh, slowly easing himself out, wincing a bit
himself at the sting. “Ah, that’s a lot…” he absently says, flopping slowly to
the side, watching the little motes of color that float across his vision.
“Fucking holy knights, apparently, means a very nice magical recharge…”
 
“Mm, is that nice?” Kaoru asks, intrigued. “Do I taste different, is that how
it works?”
 
“You certainly taste different, but…” Rei flutters a languid hand. “I think
it’s because you came so hard. Guess I’m doing something right.”
 
“And magically?” Kaoru starts to roll over onto his side, then stops, just
flopping onto his back. “Is it really any different? What does it feel like,
that recharge thing?”
 
“Like I could blow up the whole world,” Rei blissfully says. “Don’t worry. I
won’t. It just feels good. Being on a low…feels like I haven’t eaten for weeks.
Headaches. Shivering. It’s no good.”
 
“You went through all of that for one ghoul, huh?” Kaoru reaches down, dragging
a fingertip through the cooling mess on his belly. “Just to protect some random
citizens of a city you aren’t even from?”
 
“Told you I was a failure of a demon,” Rei blithely says, shutting his eyes and
slinging an arm back over his head. He sighs, snuggling his way down into the
sheets. “It’s part of my contract with the Academy. That being said…I’d do it
anyway, yes. Just to protect some random citizens of a city I’m not even from.”
 
“You know what? If the Paladins of the Holy White Order thought like that, I
probably wouldn’t have left.”
 
“Really.” Rei twists slowly onto his side, pulling a pillow over to wrap his
arms around. “To be fair, most regular humans don’t think like that, either.”
 
“Oh, they’ll talk big,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “They’ll say they’re preserving
the natural human order, that they’re protecting the poor defenseless humans
from the evil Shadelings, all the party lines. But when it comes down to it,
they don’t go looking for people to help. They wait until they get petitions,
and the only people that really make those these days are, guess who? The ones
that live around the Hinterlands. And if you think my family doesn’t pay more
attention to people that either serve them or pay them tribute, you’re blind.”
 
“Sounds like the crown and Academy had an unholy baby.”
 
“And fuck them too,” Kaoru says cheerfully. “Fuck all the big institutions.
Let’s have a party.”
 
“I’d love to.” Rei’s smile is wry, and he drums his fingers slowly against his
cheek. “Alas, if I’m an outcast of the Academy, then I’m on a kill list.”
 
Kaoru’s smile dims slightly. “When do you have to go back?”
 
“Whenever you’re done with me. I promised I’d stay and help you with those
disturbances, didn’t I? Also, this is a rather nice manor you have here.”
 
“It is, isn’t it? Good for parties. I like parties. The girls are great at
parties.”
 
“I’ve never been one for parties, but I might change my mind if you’re the one
throwing them.”
 
“Hey.” Kaoru brushes his hair back behind his ear. “You can always come stay
here, when you need to kill something in High Harbor. It’d be fun to have you
here whenever.”
 
“Oh dear, now you’ve invited me,” Rei says with a laugh, turning his head to
press a kiss to the inside of Kaoru’s wrist. “You won’t be able to get rid of
me. Didn’t your parents teach you not to do that with demons?”
 
Kaoru barks out a laugh. “They taught me a lot of things not to do with demons,
you know! But I don’t think I’ve been listening to them, do you?”
 
“I’m getting the impression you’re a bit thick-skulled,” Rei teases, leaning
over to press a kiss to Kaoru’s mouth again, batting his eyelashes. “But that’s
one of the best things about men. They’re so stubborn and pushy. Oh,” he says,
pausing, “just so you know, I have a pet dog. If I visit, you might meet him.”
 
“Dog?” Kaoru’s mouth twitches. “I’m trying to figure it out. Huge, skeletal
dog, with bat-like wings? Or tiny fluffy monster that yaps all the time?”
 
“The last one. He’s just a puppy, a good boy.”
 
“You can have him in any room with stone floors, I don’t want him shedding on
my decor, yeah?”
 
“Aww. He’ll be sad if he can’t be with me, though. He’s a clingy little thing.”
 
“Yeah, if you ever bring him into my bedroom, you’re both uninvited. I don’t
like animals. Girls love animals, they take all the attention.”
 
“Guess that makes me the girl here, huh?” Rei sweetly replies, entirely
unfazed. “Good. I’ll happily be your lady.”
 
Kaoru smiles, and rolls to the side, grabbing a soft cloth and starting to
clean himself. “Good, I like being the center of attention. You can be my lady
whenever you’re in town, isn’t that nice?”
 
“That sounds like a lovely way to spend my time.” Rei pauses, watching the way
Kaoru moves, his eyes lidding. “My being here isn’t going to…cause you any
trouble with your family, is it?”
 
“The less they know about me, the better,” Kaoru says with a laugh. “If they
come visiting and they find you, though…” He shrugs. “I don’t think they’ll
kill me, but I can’t be sure. Excommunication, definitely.”
 
“I can almost entirely cloak my presence, if that helps. I just wanted the
ghoul to find me, which is why you could sniff me out. I am a Nightcloak.”
 
“Ooh, bragging. Girls don’t like that, you know.”
 
“You’re not a girl.”
 
“Yeah, it’s just a little bit of advice, you can have it for free. I’m being
generous.”
 
“How many times do I need to remind you,” Rei patiently says, “that I don’t
care about girls.”
 
“Rude, even if you want to leave the field clear for me, so to speak, you could
still appreciate the as people. You might need to charm one at some point, you
know?”
 
“Oh…oh, no, I don’t do that,” Rei says with a laugh, fluttering a hand. “If a
girl needs to be charmed, someone else is called, not me. I think women are
wonderful, but talking to them—and flirting with them—that’s absolutely my
weakness. I know, I know, it’s pathetic for a sex wizard, don’t remind me.”
 
“And fighting them?” Kaoru asks, amused. “Or do you always choke like that?”
 
“Truth be told, I’m not much for fighting, but that wasn’t me choking—my magic
just…stopped. I’ve never had that happen before, and as you like reminding me,
I’m very old.” Rei shifts unhappily. “I still don’t know why that would’ve
happened.”
 
Kaoru pauses, then changes the subject, sort of. “How old are you? Like, I’m
assuming triple digits, yeah?”
 
“Mm. Old enough that humans can’t really process it, but not so old that I’m,
you know, an all-knowing ancient.” Rei’s expression shifts wry. “Amongst
demons, I’m still slightly above being a teenager.”
 
“Sooo…..not triple digits, then.”
 
“Paladins truly think they know everything.”
 
“So, like, four digits? Tell me up or down.”
 
“My mother is in the thousands. You were right the first time; it’s triple
digits. But…low triple digits,” Rei admits.
 
Kaoru laughs, and kicks Rei gently in the shin. “So old mere humans can’t
process it, huh? You’re probably younger than my grandfather.”
 
“Most humans don’t live past sixty in this hellscape of a country,” Rei sniffs.
“So for them to see a man that looks like me and hear that he’s in his
hundreds—I’d say that’s hard to process. I suppose paladins are an exception,
aren’t they. What makes you holy, anyway? You know that the Emperor is a liar
when he says he’s an angel, don’t you?”
 
Kaoru snorts. “We don’t take orders from him. Why would we? He doesn’t pay. And
if you ask my esteemed family, they’ll tell you that we were given our sacred
charge from an order of gods, the kind that don’t exist here anymore. I think
it’s probably more likely that my great-great-great-grandcestor hooked up with
an angel or something, but…well, I hear that in cases like that, the line gets
less potent the more it’s diluted. These days we’re just as long-lived as we
were back then, so, what do I know? Maybe we really are descended from gods, or
given charge by them or something. I just wish…never mind. They’re never going
to be what I want them to be, and I’ll never be something they can be proud
of.”
 
“I feel like I’m looking into a mirror, and it’s starting to frighten me,” Rei
says with a soft laugh, reaching out to run a finger along Kaoru’s side. “If
they aren’t what you want, and you aren’t what they want, then to hell with
it,” he quietly says. “Work for yourself instead. You have more of a conscience
than any other paladin I’ve met, and I’ve had a few nasty run-ins in the past.”
 
Kaoru sighs. “There’s the problem. I don’t want to be in this line of work. I
just want to do something nice, you know? I don’t need to have mansions or
whatever, I’ll just be…I don’t know. A flower arranger. Girls love flowers.”
 
“Stop, I’m starting to think we separated at birth. I just want to be a
gardener, or play the violin for court nobles that don’t know what good music
is but will pay for it, anyway.”
 
“Yeah?” Kaoru smiles. “I’d like to hear you play. We can put together some nice
parties while you’re here at least, don’t you think? And after that…well, who
cares? Live for today, we’re old enough that we can waste a few nice years.”
 
It would be nice to be able to shirk so many responsibilities, Rei almost says,
but he bites his tongue. There’s no point in ruining their fun for today, and
it’s not like he disagrees. “That sounds very nice,” he sighs, flopping onto
his back again. “But you have to be nice to my dog.”
 
“As long as he’s nice to my furniture, and doesn’t steal all the girls.”
***** Chapter 44 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
High Harbor—specifically, the Hakaze manor—seems far more like home than the
Shadowlands, or even the Academy, and Rei can think of a number of persons that
would find that in poor taste.
 
Word will travel fast, be it magically, or be it through the mouths of any
minor demon that managed to slither away before their prince destroyed their
brethren. The idea of Ritsu’s judgement makes Rei’s skin crawl, and when he
stumbles back into High Harbor, handing his horse off to a stablehand, he
desperately tries to push those thoughts from his mind.
 
A demon prince finding solace in a holy paladin, after destroying hordes of his
own people—ah, yes, this seems appropriately terrible. At every single door,
demon traps remain, but as drained as he is, Rei doesn’t even trip them—at
least, not in any substantial way. The scruffy little wolf puppy that follows
at his heels, however, lingers behind, growling at the doorway, pacing outside
of it in distaste. “I’ll make him take it down in a minute,” he wearily
promises, and stumbles his way up the stairway to Kaoru’s room.
 
“Rei?”
 
Kaoru’s voice is low, cautious, and the sword in his hand glows faintly white
as he peeks into the hallway. “My wards are tripping, but really softly…is that
really you? And, oh, is that a dog?”
 
“A puppy,” Rei offers up with a tired smile, his eyes flicking down to the
sword in Kaoru’s hand, then back up to his face. “If you ever wanted to slay
the Demon Prince, now’s the time. I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to.”
 
Kaoru ducks back inside his room, returning a moment later without the sword,
combing a hand back through his hair. “Sorry, can’t be too careful. All the
demon activity around here, I basically can’t move without hitting one. I
assume that’s your fault, somehow? Come in, you look…um, fine.”
 
The wolf growls as it stares at Kaoru with glowing gold eyes, and firmly sits
just outside of the bedroom, refusing to take a step further inside. Rei
supposes that’s fair. “They’re fleeing,” he vaguely provides, stepping inside.
“You didn’t have to put up the sword, it’s very attractive when you sling that
thing around.”
 
“You and your puppy are the only ones here to swing at,” Kaoru points out
wryly, stopping to bow to the dog, then wave into the room. “Does he want to
stay outside, maybe? Uh, does he need, I don’t know, a patch of grass or a bone
or something? I can send to the kitchens, I guess…”
 
The wolf stares at Kaoru for a moment longer before baring his teeth, circling
three times, then flopping down onto the carpeted floor.
 
“Oh, don’t worry about it, he’ll make his own fun. He’s the Wolf Prince, Saiga.
I don’t think he trusts paladins.” Rei inhales slowly, blinking a few times to
try and will away the shakiness that follows, then simply flops down onto the
end of Kaoru’s bed. “Give it a few days…and your demon problems should be
fairly…nonexistent. At least, for awhile.”
 
Kaoru’s eyebrows raise, and he shuts and locks the door, sketching a casual
sigil on the wood to seal it magically as well. The life energy and intention
interacts with the pre-carved sigil, letting even a non-wizard create a magical
barrier. “You look like you haven’t slept since I saw you last. Hell, even if
you had your breasts right now, I’d probably still want you to sleep.”
 
“If I put them on, will you keep me?” Rei smiles and flops onto his back,
shutting his eyes. “That might be the last bit of magic I do for awhile, but
sounds like it might be worth it.”
 
Kaoru hesitates for a moment, then plants a kiss to Rei’s neck, slinging an arm
around his waist. “What if I offered to keep you even without them? I mean,
don’t tell anyone.”
 
Rei pauses, and his lips twitch into a faint smile as he turns, burying his
face into Kaoru’s neck. “I knew you really liked me. I don’t think you can
officially keep me unless I have breasts, though.”
 
Kaoru opens his mouth, then, closes it, pausing as he processes that. “Does
that mean you’re saying yes?” he asks, trying to sound casual. “The whole, you
know, when I asked you to marry me, and then you went off to fight demons and
pet puppies for a year instead of answering me?”
 
“Your timing was bad,” Rei defensively retorts, lifting his face again. “The
entire West was at risk, and—I want you to know, there was not very much
petting of puppies. I wish there was.”
 
“Not the point,” Kaoru says with a sigh. He grabs a pillow, and thumps it down
on top of Rei’s head. “You made me feel like a real ass. I didn’t think you
were coming back.”
 
“I didn’t think you were serious,” comes Rei’s muffled response as he grabs for
the pillow and holds it down over his own face. “You’ve made it very clear
about your preferences. I thought it was because of the venom, or just…you
being cute, when you asked.”
 
Kaoru scowls, and twists around, standing and stalking away from the bed. “I
don’t just propose randomly for fun, you know. I’m actually kind of famous for
not getting girls mixed up in my stupid family life in a permanent way. If you
don’t want to, just say no.”
 
“I didn’tsay no.”
 
Rei tosses the pillow aside as he sits up, grabbing at Kaoru’s wrist to haul
him back. “If you were serious, you’re an idiot,” he quietly says. “What would
your parents think? Word will get back to them, won’t it?”
 
“Well, if they didn’t want me to marry a shapeshifting demon, they should have
been more clear about my inheritance,” Kaoru says, trying not to let Rei see
his blush. “My grandfather thinks I’m a wastrel, so he wrote into his
inheritance that I get the castle here for good when I get married. I checked,
it doesn’t say anything about what species my wife has to be. And for the rest
of it…well, fuck ‘em, you know? I hate the way they live.”
 
Rei pauses, glancing down for a moment before he slumps forward, stuffing his
face firmly between Kaoru’s shoulderblades. He smells good, and clean, and
nothing like the froth and filth of demons and Inglings, drawn up from the
depths of gods know where. He wouldn’t, of course; Kaoru is a paladin, the kind
of human his mother would love to feast upon as a statement. “I missed you,” he
says instead of any of that, sliding his arm around Kaoru’s waist from behind.
 
A little of the tension in Kaoru’s back dissolves, and his shoulders slump down
as well, hands dropping down to squeeze Rei’s hands. “I missed you, too,” he
says softly. “More than I thought I would. This whole thing, where you
disappear to fight the worst things in the world and I’m waiting around like a
lovelorn maiden, this is no good for me. Gives me an ulcer.”
 
“Next time, I’ll take you with me,” Rei quietly offers up. “But this time, I
couldn’t. Someone like you…paladins—every demon there would’ve wanted not just
to eat you, but…fuck knows what else.” His arms tighten in a slow squeeze. “You
were that worried about me, huh? I told you, I’m a Nightcloak.”
 
“Yeah, and you look like something chewed up a Lord Nightcloak and spat it
out.” Kaoru tries to look angry, but his voice just comes out worried, which is
extremely embarrassing, so he doesn’t turn around. “I don’t want to go with you
into awful places, I want you to stay where it’s beautiful and friendly. You
deserve that too, you know. At least if you married me, you’d always have this
to come back to.”
 
“Inglings tore down the entire barrier between our country and the Shadowlands.
I didn’t have a choice.” If he says it enough times, maybe he’ll start to
believe it, too—our country. Ah, Ritsu would hate that, so much. Rei shoves his
face harder against Kaoru’s back, rubbing it in. “Will this be something as big
and lavish as a royal wedding? You’re something of a celebrity around here;
every girl will be heartbroken.”
 
A relieved little smile starts tugging at the corners of Kaoru’s mouth. “I
don’t know…is that a yes? The city might want the spectacle, but the proper
paladin way is a quiet, holy ceremony. I’d have to call in one of my family’s
Devouts.”
 
“Ooh. Good, I can finally show off how truly good at hiding in plain sight I
am.” Rei lifts his face, hooking his chin over the back of Kaoru’s shoulder. “I
guarantee even your father wouldn’t be able to tell what I am. Of course it’s a
yes.”
 
Kaoru moves suddenly, turning and shoving Rei down into the bed, covering his
face with a rapid-fire peppering of kisses. “You’re awful,” he laughs, grabbing
Rei’s wrists and holding them down. “You really made me think you didn’t love
me, you know.”
 
Rei huffs out a laugh, lurching half-heartedly against Kaoru’s hold to kiss him
back. He misses, mostly kisses Kaoru’s cheek, and flops back down with a shaky
sigh, shutting his eyes. “Maybe I was just testing you,” he says. “I wanted to
see how you’d react when I came back. Run me through, or do something like
this.”
 
“Awful wife behavior. We’re going to need to work on that.”
 
Rei heaves a sigh, and goes boneless with the flutter of magic that obliges
Kaoru, and shifts Rei’s body to, more or less, the appearance of a woman’s.
“Mm, this is the extent of my effort, but it comes off like better behavior,
right?”
 
Kaoru’s eyes light up, and he immediately jumps on top of Rei, wriggling down
until he’s kneeling between those creamy thighs, nibbling eagerly at his neck,
hands sliding up to cup creamy, heavy breasts. “I was being really good about
not asking you to,” he says eagerly, “but holy heavens, you’re so lovely, I’m
going to seek out every part of you that tastes different from every other
part.”
 
Rei’s lips twitch in amusement as he sprawls out, eyes shut, legs splaying. “Go
on ahead,” he says, chest heaving underneath the touch of Kaoru’s hands.
“What’s the more important part, though? The boobs, or the pussy?”
 
Kaoru shakes his head, fingers deftly working the fastenings of Rei’s shirt,
though he pauses to look down for a moment. “Nice,” he decides. “Those huge
tits in a man’s shirt, that’s a nice look. Anyway, neither. It’s the smell. You
smell different.”
 
“Ahh. I see.” Rei’s lips twist into a grin. “Good, because I only had enough
magic for the boobs.”
 
Kaoru freezes, and his jaw drops. “Wh—you didn’t—“ He reaches down, and his
face falls in comical dismay. “I…oh…you know what, yeah, I probably would have
chosen boobs. This works, actually.”
 
“Apparently, as someone told me, the parts don’t really matter—it’s all in what
I smell like,” Rei teases, pushing up onto his elbows and stealing a soft kiss
from Kaoru’s mouth. “If you want the rest, just play with me a little. Then
I’ll have enough magic to properly transform.”
 
Kaoru’s grin is sharp-toothed and sly, and he starts working his way down Rei’s
pale skin, leaving little love bites and kisses over Rei’s neck, collarbone,
chest, and belly. “You mean I get to play with both tonight?” he teases,
pressing a kiss to one creamy hip. The stiffening cock between Rei’s thighs
doesn’t hold the terror for him that it used to, back when they’d first met,
and he tongues it slowly, holding eye contact with Rei as he takes the head
into his mouth.
 
Rei sucks in a soft, ragged breath, letting his head fall back as his cock
hardens further underneath the slide of Kaoru’s warm, soft tongue. “If I had
known that was an option…I would’ve shown up like this awhile ago,” he laughs,
sliding a hand up to one of his own breasts and absently rolling a nipple
between his fingers. “Maybe I’ll show up like this on our wedding day.”
 
“If I’d known it was an option, I’d have asked for it earlier,” Kaoru says with
a laugh, tossing his hair back from his face, then dipping his head down,
sucking the first several inches into his mouth, bobbing his head over the
head, letting his hands come up to stroke over the shaft and Rei’s hips. The
taste isn’t nearly as bad as he’d feared the first time he’d done this, and he
sucks hard, flicking his tongue over the head. Already, he starts to feel the
little tingle he’s come to associate with Rei’s magic, a tiny prickling under
the skin that he doubts he’d feel if not for the paladin blood that flows
through him, alerting him to his life energies being inflamed.
 
Slowly but surely, that terrible, shaky feeling of being so damnably empty of
energy starts to fade.
 
Rei breathes out a sigh of relief as much as a rumbling, content sigh of
pleasure, and slides a hand down, dragging his fingers slowly through Kaoru’s
hair. “You…have such a nice tongue, don’t you,” he murmurs, his hips twitching
upward, the head of his cock sliding against Kaoru’s tongue. “I’m already
starting to feel better.”
 
Kaoru pulls off with a wet swipe of his tongue, and smirks. “Of course you feel
better, I’m doing this, isn’t that nice? Anyone would feel good with a mouth on
their prick, right? Ah, but I think mine is the best, right?” At least, he
deserves to hear that it is, after being worried for several months that Rei
was eaten by a demon or something.
 
“Every part of you is the best,” Rei groans, throwing an arm over his face as
his hips cant upward, seeking out that slick heat even when Kaoru pulls away.
“Nnnh, be nice to me, don’t stop, or I’ll put it in you somewhere else.”
 
“What’s best?” Kaoru pulls off, letting his hand take his mouth’s place as he
sits up, meeting Rei’s eyes. “What’ll make you feel better fastest? Is it
finishing? Or is it being inside, or me being in you, or what? You never told
me.”
 
Kaoru’s fingers are about as nice as his mouth, because as much as he slings a
sword around, his hands are soft, and Rei shudders as he arches up into that
touch helplessly. “It’s…ah…the most annoying answer is ‘it depends’,” Rei
admits, wetting his lower lip with a swipe of his tongue. “Mostly on what you
want more. But f-finishing helps regardless, for sure.”
 
“Heh, maybe I should just finish you up,” Kaoru says with a grin, deftly
tugging on Rei’s cock, feeling the warm, live pulse there that goes farther
than anything else to reassure Kaoru that Rei is here, warm and alive and in
his bed. “Otherwise you’ll keep being useless, right? How many times do you
need to go before you can take care of yourself properly?”
 
“I-I’m—I don’t know,” Rei huffily, distractedly mutters, giving into the urge
for Kaoru again, petting at his hair, his shoulders. His cock pulses within
Kaoru’s hand, dripping slowly from the tip. “I haven’t ever…been this empty
before—nhh, come up here, you should at least put your mouth on my boobs at the
same time, then I’ll be fast.”
 
Kaoru’s eyes light up, and he crawls up, straddling Rei’s chest, using his
hands to press those huge, firm breasts together around his cock. “What about
like this?” he asks, eyes dancing. “I mean, it’s definitely more for me than
for you, heh, but it’s supposed to work if I have fun, right? Open your mouth,
sweetheart.”
 
A shudder goes straight down Rei’s spine, and he manages to drag a pillow over,
propping his head up with it. “It’s…a lot faster, if you’re having fun,” he
breathes, wetting his lips before parting them for Kaoru’s cock. His own throbs
between his legs, but Rei ignores it, far more focused on getting a taste of
Kaoru’s.
 
“Then you should be good for a thousand years after this,” Kaoru breathes, his
cock aching with every drag between those soft, firm breasts. The sight of
Rei’s mouth on the far end makes his blood boil, and he thrusts forward hard,
bumping the head against those red lips. “M-maybe two thousand.”
 
Rei’s hands slide up, pressing to both sides of his breasts to hold them up and
around Kaoru’s cock as he thrusts forward. His tongue flicks out, dragging over
the tip of Kaoru’s cock, and the taste makes him groan, soft and rumbling in
the back of his throat. “T…that would be nice,” he rasps, cheeks flushed hot.
“Ahh…fuck, Kaoru, you taste so good…”
 
Kaoru’s thrusting gets faster and faster, his hormones and the long wait taking
over, until he’s rutting forward like a man possessed. His hands come down to
stroke Rei’s hair, as gentle as they can be when his body burns, until finally
with an arching cry he spills, painting Rei’s face, making the slick flesh even
more slippery with every sweet buck of his hips. “A-ah, that’s—perfect, good
girl, that’s so good…annnhh…”
 
Rei pants for a full breath, nails biting into the soft skin of his own breast
as he holds them around Kaoru’s cock, savoring the heat rutting between them
and the spill of that slick, bitter fluid over his lips and what makes it to
his tongue. He shivers, toes curling as he drops his head back, tongue dragging
over his lower lip to taste more. “T-that’s…much better,” he rasps, shutting
his eyes as he trembles. “Ahh, you came a lot…were you waiting for me?”
 
“N-no!” Kaoru’s face flushes suddenly pink, and he laughs, a little high-
pitched, and reaches down to start stroking Rei’s cock quickly. “What a dumb
thought, ha ha, I’m totally a playboy, you know?”
 
“Uh—huh, s-sure,” Rei gasps, grabbing at Kaoru’s back, clinging to him as he
arches up, rutting into that smooth, warm palm. He bites his lip, then gives
up, lurching up to sink his teeth into the curve of Kaoru’s shoulder—not biting
to feed, but biting to hold onto him as he shudders, coming hard with barely
another stroke of Kaoru’s hand.
 
Kaoru endures the clutching, the biting, and the shaking, only leaning down to
press another long kiss to Rei’s lips once he finally relaxes. Freed, he starts
stroking Rei’s hair, nuzzling into the back of his neck. “There you go,
darling, that’s better, isn’t it?”
 
A little dazed, Rei nods, rubbing his sweaty face into Kaoru’s shoulder. “So
much better,” he mumbles, shivering anew as he twists in Kaoru’s arms to press
up against him fully. The warmth and ease of magic slowly renewing itself
within his body helps him to relax, and his body slowly shifts fully into the
more familiar, entirely feminine form that Kaoru has been acquainted with in
the past. “Just fits better with you like this,” he murmurs, face half-hidden
underneath a far heavier head of hair as Rei nuzzles into Kaoru’s chest. “Warm.
Good.”
 
Kaoru sighs happily, twining their bodies together. “Tomorrow?” he murmurs,
brushing a kiss to the shell of Rei’s ear. “I’ll drag that hidebound old idiot
priest out from his hidey hole, make it official, even send a rider to my
folks.”
 
“You really think I’ll be lovely enough tomorrow?” Rei sleepily breathes,
deliberately squishing his breasts up against Kaoru’s chest. Nice. “I might
still be a little…weird…but I can probably pull myself together for a few
hours…”
 
Kaoru laughs, and tweaks a nipple, drawing Rei closer by the waist. “You think
you’re done for the night? My dearest sweetheart, by the time morning rolls
around, you’ll be as fresh as the day you were born.”
 
“You get to do all the work,” Rei firmly says, throwing his arms around Kaoru’s
neck. “All of it. Take care of me. I just saved the world and I’m getting
married with no one to give me away.”
 
“Ah, angel, that’s the kind of task you need a holy paladin for,” Kaoru says
with a wink, rolling until he’s squashing Rei firmly down to the bed. “You
won’t have your puppy give you away, then?”
 
“My puppy is bratty and would be jealous,” Rei groans, flopping back happily
and wrapping both arms around Kaoru’s back to pet down his spine. “And no one
at the Academy can know—especially not my brother, ahah.”
 
Kaoru pauses, mid-nibble, and draws back slightly, eyes concerned. “You know,
we don’t have to get married. Just if you want to. I’ll love you the same
whether you want to be shackled to a collection of issues like me or not, heh.”
 
Rei blinks up at Kaoru, head slowly tilting to the side. “Cold feet all of a
sudden?” he mildly asks, reaching up to tap the tip of Kaoru’s nose with a long
finger. “You think you’re a collection of issues?”
 
“Hey, I’m not the one talking about how I have to keep it secret,” Kaoru
mutters, snapping his teeth at that fingertip, missing on purpose. “Can you
even set foot on holy ground?”
 
“If I have lots of magic to hide my nature with…I think so?” Rei hazards,
wiggling his fingers an inch or two away from Kaoru’s snapping teeth. “It’s not
that I have to keep it secret, I just…think it would be better. Safer.
Especially for you. Don’t look at me like that, I know you don’t want wizards
breathing down your throat.”
 
“Well, no, though I can think of some things I’d like one wizard to do down my
throat,” Kaoru says with a laugh, pressing a kiss to Rei’s cheek, then the tip
of his nose. “Don’t worry about it. I just know that I sensed you, the first
time we met. How full were you then?”
 
“Not very, and…also, intentionally attempting to lure out another demon by
leaking,” Rei admits, taking a snap of his own at Kaoru’s nose, fangs glinting.
“I’m telling you, I could pass so well as human that even your esteemed family
wouldn’t be able to tell what I am. If you’re worried, though, I’ll try to
cross holy ground tonight to test it.”
 
“Just…do it well enough that I can’t tell,” Kaoru offers. “I’m…well, it’s kind
of embarrassing, but I’m kind of a Sensitive, as far as my family goes. If I
can’t sniff you, no one’ll be able to. Except maybe great-grandmother, but she
never travels anymore, she’s almost six hundred.”
 
Rei’s eyes widen, and amusement slowly slides into clear view over her face.
“So I’m stealing the one good paladin left in this world?” he concludes, lips
twitching into a grin. “And he’s marrying a demon prince. Oooh, I can’t help
but like that, it’s in my devious nature.”
 
“Hey, I thought you were reformed,” Kaoru says in mock-horror, shucking his
clothes completely, tossing them to the side of the bed. “And I was marrying
the only good demon left in the world. Or the first good one? Hey, can I knock
you up, or are you still a guy on the inside?”
 
“I think I have a uterus like this,” Rei says, poking at his own stomach
curiously. “But being a wizard, I think I’m still sterile. You’re welcome to
try, though, our children would be lovely and I’ve always wanted them. Also—I’m
plenty good, I think, but I still have a few instincts that most humans would
consider in poor taste.”
 
Kaoru purses his lips. “I mean, kids aren’t exactly hard to come by, right? If
we really feel like it? Or, well…” He grins, and divests Rei of the rest of his
clothes, grabbing at Rei’s thighs. “We could always just try. Maybe wizards
give up too easy. We’ve got time, right? Paladins live long, and demons live
basically forever, right?”
 
Rei hums contently, wriggling to wrap his thighs around Kaoru’s hips, dragging
him down on top of him. “I’m happy to try until I’m sick of the idea,” he says.
“And if I’m marrying you, I’ll make sure you live more than just ‘long’, so we
can try when I’m no longer sick of it again. How’s that for a good idea, mm?”
 
“Ugh, I don’t want to live forever,” Kaoru says with a laugh, rubbing the head
of his cock on Rei’s thigh, a glint in his eyes as he stiffens. “A few hundred
is more than enough for me, isn’t more than that just greedy?”
 
“Not if you’re sticking around for me.” Rei’s eyes lid, his hands sliding down
Kaoru’s back as he leans up, mouth on the arc of Kaoru’s throat. “People that I
love, I want to keep,” he murmurs. “So let me keep you.”
 
A shiver runs down Kaoru’s back, and he leans in, reaching a hand down to run a
finger up Rei’s slit. “Keep me in here,” he suggests, “nice and wet for me,
darling, and I’ll never want to leave. Tell me you want me, and you can have
me. Tell me how it makes you feel, when I’m in you.”
 
Rei’s eyes flutter, and his teeth snap against Kaoru’s throat, grazing over the
skin instead of sinking in. It’s tempting, but he waits, no matter how much he
desperately wants to bite down and drink. Rei arches, pressing down against
that finger until it slips inside, and he arches with a breathy gasp,
automatically clenching down. “I want you,” he breathes, head falling back down
onto the bed in his own pile of hair. “Gods, I want you. All I thought
about…was being in your bed, because no one else feels good anymore. Nnhh,
Kaoru, please…”
 
“Enough play,” Kaoru groans, and pulls his finger out, sliding it up to circle
around Rei’s clit, just as he leans forward and presses his cock in deep. His
eyes roll back, and then everything is sweet wet tightness, swallowing him
down, sucking him in. “You’re good, you’re good, you’re perfect,” he gasps, and
presses a sweet, sucking kiss to one nipple.
 
Rei’s voice breaks into a breathy whimper, and his thighs close around Kaoru’s
sides, squeezing tight as he rocks down, chest heaving with the stretch of
Kaoru’s cock sinking deep inside. He shifts, sighing, pinching at his other
nipple while Kaoru’s mouth sucks on one, his other hand fisting into Kaoru’s
hair to cling to him. “You’re perfect,” Rei pants. “That…mnn, you fit in me…so
perfectly, Kao~ru…”
 
“Seems impossible,” Kaoru pants, tugging on a nipple with his teeth when he
pauses to collect his thoughts, “that I won’t get you pregnant, huh? When
it—nnh, when it feels like this?” He doesn’t care too much, not really, but
there had been such a wistful light in Rei’s eyes…
 
The question takes Rei off-guard—he’s missed Kaoru, he has, and that, combined
with this ridiculous biological compulsion that he can’t ever really fulfill
culminates into some strange, overly-intense orgasm that sharply brings tears
to his eyes. “K-keep going, don’t you dare stop,” he manages, trembling as he
clings to Kaoru’s back. His toes curl hard enough that his calves start to
cramp, and with a huff of breath, Rei throws an arm over his face to hide his
expression. “Ahh, fuck, I’ve really been without you too long, huh…”
 
Kaoru rocks in, deep and unhurried, taking the time to really enjoy the squeeze
of Rei’s lovely body around him, tasting his skin, breathing in deep so he
doesn’t miss a single moment of that smell. “Shh, I’m taking care of you, just
lay there and look pretty, let me do all the work, yeah? I’ve got you,
sweetheart, I’ve got you.” A fierce, protective feeling wells up in him at the
sight of her face, and maybe his hands squeeze her a little tighter, hold her a
little closer.
 
Rei nods hurriedly, lower lip trembling before he bites down onto it and just
lets himself sag down into the bed. “Good,” he huffs out wetly, cut off briefly
by a lingering shudder that makes her nails flex into Kaoru’s back when he
slides in so deeply. “N-no one else does. Don’t…don’t let me leave for awhile
this time, okay? Make me stay,” Rei pleads. “I want to stay.” But everything
keeps pulling me away and I can’t say no, lingers on the tip of her tongue.
Kaoru can figure that out. He has to.
 
“You’ll stay.” Kaoru’s voice is firm, as firm as his arms around Rei’s body as
he rocks down, taking him with every rock of his hips deep inside. “I
don’t—gods, I don’t care if you want to do, whatever you want, I’m not your
jailer, but you will come home to me, because you’re mine, Rei, no one else…”
 
“A proper wife—would stay,” Rei manages with a breathless laugh, dragging his
nails up Kaoru’s back as he holds onto him, stuffing his face into Kaoru’s neck
as he’s taken again, again, again. His mouth fastens to the side of Kaoru’s
neck, sucking right over his pulse, the scent of blood just underneath starting
to make Rei’s vision swim. “Sorry…if I bite,” he whispers with a hard shiver.
“You smell so good, Kaoru…”
 
“I don’t want you to be a proper wife,” Kaoru breathes, his cock achingly hard
when Rei starts to suck and bite, when it takes all of his concentration not to
just ravish him hard and fast until they’re both trembling. “I want you to be
my wife. And she—can bite all she wants, heh…”
 
“Don’t invite me,” Rei groans, but it’s far too late—that turns out to be the
last bit of self-control he has. His fangs bare before sinking into Kaoru’s
neck, biting down eagerly to drink with long, hungry gulps as he clings to
Kaoru’s back, nails leaving half-moons pressed into Kaoru’s skin when the taste
of that bright, coppery blood drips over Rei’s tongue. It’s all the more
fragrant and delicious when Kaoru’s inside, and the noise that leaves throat is
more of a desperate whine than anything else.
 
Somehow, the way Rei bites makes Kaoru’s body surge, and he comes before he can
think about it, before he can warn Rei. The idea of coming inside Rei makes him
cry out, face buried in the crook of Rei’s shoulder and neck, hips pistoning in
deep as he groans. “You’re—you’re perfect,” he gasps, voice broken and urgent.
“Damn, that’s cheating…”
 
Rei shudders, toes curling into the bed sheets as he clings to Kaoru with both
arms and legs, slowly releasing his neck with a ragged, wet gasp. Feeling Kaoru
come inside of him makes him twitch and clench anew, a sharp little spike of an
orgasm making him flop back with a groan. “You’re the one…that tastes so good,”
he breathes, licking at red, bloodied lips. “That’s cheating. Ahh, don’t pull
out, don’t pull out, I’ve heard it takes better if we stay like this for
awhile…”
 
Kaoru grins wearily, flopping down on top of Rei, staying nestled inside of him
even as his cock starts to soften. “I’ve never heard of a girl wizard getting
fucked by a holy knight, you know. We’re probably going to be great at this.”
 
“A half-demon girl wizard and a holy knight,” Rei dreamily says, petting a hand
down Kaoru’s sweaty back. “It really is a shame…you’d be a great father, I
think.”
 
“Quit talking about shame, would you? Let’s just think positive, I bet we got
this.”
 
“You’re right. I’m going to have a litter, look forward to that.”
 
Kaoru presses a hard kiss to Rei’s cheek. “I am. Wife.”
 
~
 
In a tiny town just north of High Harbor, Sakuma Rei languishes.
 
In a tiny town, in a brothel.
 
In a brothel, in a private, locked room. Alone. 
 
“He’s been here for days, just cryin’,” comes the huffy, rough-edged growl of
Koga, the current Wolf Prince, currently in the form of a scruffy, silver-
haired five-year-old. He’s dragging someone along, Rei can hear it, but he can
barely hear it over the thudding of his own pulse, the thud of his own magical
pulse, now feeling like it’s stretched thin because he’s so…so far from the
Academy. It’s not even that far—a day’s ride, maybe two if he’s going slow, but
it feels far. Anything except being a footstep away would be too far, and even
that…
 
Rei groans, twisting onto his side where he sprawls, pulling a pillow over his
head as if that will silence that desperate pull. His magic might be noisy, but
it’s still weak, uselessly so, the last high he’d been riding after galavanting
off within the Isles long gone. Touching anyone—anyone else—feels strange and
painful, and Rei trembles with the memory of trying.
 
“Oi, are you up?”
 
The question ricochets against his ear drums, and Rei bursts into tears.
“You’re too loud!” he snaps, sitting up and flinging his pillow right into
Koga’s face. “I told you I wasn’t feeling well, just because you’re as deaf as
a human doesn’t m…ean…” He blinks, eyes focusing through tears for a moment to
catch sight of Kaoru—Kaoru, of all people right now—and he trails off,
sniffling for a moment before the tears start anew. 
 
The sight of Rei, Kaoru’s supposed wife, in his male form, in the robes he’s
used for traveling for years, laid out and looking boozed up and wretched,
makes Kaoru more than hesitant. He sits on the bed, giving the silver-haired
kid a little scratch behind the ears—just like his grandfather, heh—and nods to
the door. “Go tell the innkeeper you’re the kid I sent, she’ll feed you. Hey,
Lady Hakaze, you inside this mess of a wizard?”
 
Koga growls, low and grumpy, and scampers off out of the room, grumbling
something about none of this being fair, he didn’t even do anything wrong,
stupid wizards.
 
Rei sniffs, then sobs, huddling up with his knees drawn up to his chest. “I
can’t,” he mumbles. “I don’t have enough magic to transform. Or I might, but I
need to h…hold onto it for now. Kaoru—K…Kaoru, something terrible happened.”
 
Kaoru turns, taking the pathetic creature into his arms, noticing immediately
that Rei doesn’t melt into his embrace the way he usually does. He frowns,
pulling back a little. “What happened? You look awful, you sure you don’t want
to grind up a little magic before you tell me what’s going on?”
 
“I…I don’t think I can.”
 
Rei exhales a hot, wet breath as he draws back, staring up at Kaoru through the
mess of his bangs with tears still streaking down pale, white cheeks. “Have
you…” He swallows, glancing aside. “Have you ever heard…of resonant bonds?”
 
Kaoru frowns, trying to wrack his brain, still sluggish from the ride.
“Um…that’s a wizard thing, right? I don’t know, I’ve never had a lot of
interaction with wizards before you.”
 
Rei nods, wiping his nose with his sleeve as he scoots over on the chaise he’d
been sprawled upon to make room for Kaoru. He rakes his bangs out of his face,
only to let them go a second later and let them flop back into place without
care. “It’s very rare,” he says. “It’s when two wizards…” He fumbles with the
words, hating it, hating it, and hating how much he can feel it the more he
thinks and talks about it. His head throbs, and Rei shuts his eyes, his head
flopping back over the back of the chaise. “It’s basically wizard marriage,” he
wearily settles upon. “But…magically. And without permission. Wizards can’t
control who they’re bonded to, and when it’s to another wizard in particular,
it’s…so…so…mindnumbing.”
 
The words hit Kaoru like a pillow swung into his back by a giant. If he weren’t
sitting down, he might have staggered. “Without permission,” he repeats slowly.
“That means…it just happens do you? You don’t…get to choose it? Are you—hey,
I’m trying not to be an idiot, you’re saying that someone made you get married
to someone else? What the hell, we’ve been married for—fuck, a century, surely
that takes precedent!”
 
“No one makes it happen. It just…happens.”
 
Rei slumps down further, wishing he could will himself to sink into the ground.
“No one else knows,” he quietly says. “No one else can feel it, or see it. But
I can. And…he can.” He swallows hard. “I shouldn’t’ve come back. I was in the
Isles—a wizard had bloomed, I was taking care of him. He was…it turned out, he
was a prophet. An accurate one.” Rei’s mouth twists, and a shiver runs down his
spine. “I shouldn’t’ve gone back to the Academy, but…curiosity kills the cat.”
 
Kaoru lets go, raking his hands back through his hair, trying to process this.
“Well, then…I don’t know, can’t you ignore it? If no one else can see or sense
it?”
 
“Maybe if I was a shittier wizard,” Rei says with a ragged laugh, flopping a
hand helplessly. “But I’m a Nightcloak. And so is he. I feel it every single
time I breathe. And…and gods, I’m screwed. I’m so screwed. I can’t fuck anyone
but him, Kaoru.”
 
Kaoru’s jaw drops. He stares, horror dawning in him with every breath he takes.
“You…you can’t? What, is there a law against it? No, no, that doesn’t track,
you said wizards aren’t supposed to fuck at all, so you don’t care about that,
so…you can’t?” His eyes widen. “Are you going to die?”
 
“Wizards aren’t allowed to, by that idiot Emperor’s laws,” Rei dully says,
staring up at the ceiling. “But if you have a resonant bond, and you can feel
it like this…it hurts, to lie with anyone else.” His lower lip trembles, and he
sucks in a quick breath to try and not burst into tears again. “I tried. I
could hear it even more, I could feel it even more, like something
constricting…all around me, like someone screaming into my ears, begging me to
stop…”
 
He trails off, blinking a few times. “I’ve been sick for days. I…think I can
still function if I feed like a demon only, but…no sex magic.” A corner of his
mouth twitches. “I’m useless. Helpless. But I have no right to complain—my mate
is still stuck within the Academy, and the Emperor already hated him before
this happened. I certainly did try to fuck him before running off into the
distance.”
 
“Your mate.” Kaoru’s voice is dull and hollow to his own ears, and he rakes a
hand back through his hair, trying to keep some of the emotions off of his
face. “You’re a Nightcloak. You seriously can’t break this thing?”
 
“He’d die. I…might die.” Rei exhales, and turns, grabbing for Kaoru’s hand. “I
didn’t want this,” he says, as firmly as he can manage. “I don’t even know him.
I daresay he wants this as much as I do, which is not at all—Kaoru, I
desperately need you to not be angry with me, I already want to die because the
idea of not being able to climb on you makes me want to scream.”
 
Kaoru sighs, and flicks Rei in the forehead. “You’re really dumb,” he says, as
gently as he can manage when his emotions are in a riot. “I’m not mad at you,
I’m just…I don’t know. This sucks. I know it’s not your fault, why the hell
would a sex wizard choose to not be able to screw?”
 
Rei’s lower lip trembles again, and he gives in, throwing himself at Kaoru no
matter how his nerves start to vibrate in some horrific, out of tune mess. That
has to go away soon—not being able to touch anyone is another level of
punishment, outside of the horror of not being able fuck only a single person
in this damned world that he doesn’t even have access to. “I’m sorry,” he
murmurs, burying his face into Kaoru’s neck. “I shouldn’t’ve gone back. Maybe
then I could’ve…I dunno, avoided knowing forever. I hate this, I’m going to die
like this.”
 
“You’re sooo dramatic,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “You don’t see me whining about
the fact that my wife just kicked me to the curb after a century, do you? Damn,
the one thing that actually forced you to be faithful and you’re doing it with
someone else, that’s some heavy irony.” He strokes Rei’s hair, hands tender in
contrast to his words.
 
“I haven’t k…kicked you to the curb,” Rei wetly says, sniffling as he rubs his
face into Kaoru’s shoulder. “You’re my favorite. I don’t want to be faithful, I
want to fuck until I get sick of trying to have babies with you and then fuck
you more, and be so powerful the Emperor can’t do anything about me wandering
around as a rogue Nightcloak.”
 
“We tried that,” Kaoru reminds him, petting Rei’s shoulders now, grabbing a
blanket to sort of roll Rei into a package. “Remember, back in the Grey King’s
reign? That was a good couple of years, right when that Emperor of yours was
just a war hero and you were convinced he was up to no good.”
 
Rei, Demon King of the Shadowlands, as of recently something of a celebrity
pirate in the Isles, and most esteemed Nightcloak (when the Emperor decides to
acknowledge him), lets himself be rolled into a blob of well-loved traveling
clothes and a whorehouse blanket. “I blew up half the Hinterlands and the West
to save everyone’s asses, and all I get is my b…brother hating me,” he
sniffles. “So when I want to quit and give up and just be a good-for-nothing
slutty arm ornament, I end up fucking bonded instead, and now I have someone
else who’s my responsibility when the Emperor j-just wants to fuck with me, and
him, and I don’t have the magic to fix it—“
 
The full-on sobbing begins again, just as Koga wanders his way back into the
room, gnawing on a turkey leg. He stares, put out, and takes a step back out.
 
“Oi, kiddo,” Kaoru calls, stuffing a pillow over Rei’s face when he can’t stand
the self-pitying sobs anymore. “Did you seriously drag this disaster all the
way from the Academy? How?”
 
Koga’s head pops back in. “Kept makin’ him feed,” he says with a shrug, and
pauses to rip a mouthful of meat off of the bone with sharp fangs. “Blood’s
just as good but he’s dumb about it. Just open your wrist up and make him
drink, he’ll snap out of it.”
 
Kaoru sighs. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, you’re as bad as Saiga used to
be. Rei, you can’t keep feeding off of this little wolf boy, no matter how
tough he is—and he’s obviously very tough and cool,” he adds, knowing how the
boy’s sire and grandsire have always been sensitive about such things. “You’ll
get hairy.”
 
Koga forgoes growling in favor of begrudging approval, eyeing Kaoru as he chews
noisily. “I’ll be the coolest Wolf King ever,” he insistently says, and jabs
his half-shredded turkey leg in the direction of Rei. “Even if this guy is
being sooo lame.”
 
“I c-can’t—h-help it, my life is over,” Rei sobs, curling up around the pillow
thrown into his face. “I hate feeding like a demon, I haaate it, I’d rather
die, just kill me, y-you’re a holy knight, just do it—“
 
“Feed him,” Koga deadpans. “He keeps gettin’ weepier the hungrier he is.”
 
Kaoru scowls at the blobby roll-up that is his erstwhile wife. “You sure you
can’t just bite? I have to cut it and everything? I hate that, it hurts and it
leaves an ugly scar, and I’m pretty. You don’t stay pretty for two hundred
years by cutting yourself open all the time, you know.”
 
Rei sniffs loudly, staring up at him through his soggy hair, and makes a slow,
begrudging grabby motion through the blanket. “Come here,” he hiccups. “You are
pretty. I want you.”
 
“Out, kiddo,” Kaoru calls, and curls up around Rei, offering up his neck. “This
is too adult a mood for a puppy.”
 
Koga’s stare is a skeptical one as he sucks on his bone and flops down onto the
floor in front of the door. “Uh huh. See for yourself.”
 
Rei untangles himself enough to get his arms around Kaoru’s waist, trying not
to sniffle and hiccup as he nuzzles into Kaoru’s neck, breathing in deeply. He
still smells sweet—not as distracting as he used to be, but blood still seems
unscathed and delicious, unlike the allure of sex—and he bites after only a
drag of his tongue across the skin to prime it, swallowing noisily with every
mouthful.
 
Kaoru stares down at Rei, startled when actual pain flares through him,
untainted by the usual sweet pleasure and sensual excitement that he’s used to
from Rei’s bite. “Um…wow, this sucks,” he says flatly. “I didn’t realize how
much I liked it when you did it the normal way.”
 
Koga heaves a noisy sigh as Rei almost immediately releases Kaoru and pulls
back, bursting into tears anew. “Don’t tell him,” he grouses. “You’re a shitty
husband, now he’s gonna cry even more.”
 
“Oi, what do you know about what kind of husband I am?” Kaoru complains,
shifting so he can sit on Rei, hopefully crushing him a little. “You’re a
puppy, your people think it’s weird if husbands don’t have a dick knot.”
 
“So what? It is weird,” Koga bluntly says, heaving himself to his feet and
padding over. He bites into his own wrist, drawing twin pinpricks of blood to
the surface before he shoves it into Rei’s mouth, shutting him up before he can
start wailing again. He only flinches slightly when Rei bites down, and he
glowers up at Kaoru. “And I’m not a puppy, I’m a wolf. You’re a stupid knight,
you gotta take care of him or he’s gonna go crazy.”
 
“You’re like five!” Kaoru protests, folding his arms across his chest. “I just
found out about all of this, be nice to me. You’re a brat, bring back Taiga.”
 
“No, my dad’s busy.” Koga stares back at him, unfazed about having his blood
slurped upon if one doesn’t count the slight wobble in his arm. Rei releases
him after another moment, and sags down into the cushions, curling up
underneath his blanket with a shaky exhale, eyes closed and blood-stained mouth
slack. “He’s gonna be out for a minute—you gotta let him eat for real next
time. From you.” He rubs at his wrist, shrugging. “You’ve got fancy blood,
it’ll probably help. I know he’s gonna steal his mate at some point, but…not
yet.”
 
Kaoru looks down at the passed-out Rei, then shifts off of him, folding his
arms and leaning in close to the kid. “Tell me about this…mate. What’s he like?
Do I have to worry that he’s going to make trouble?”
 
Koga snorts as he plops down onto the floor again, scratching behind his ear
into the thick fluff of his hair. “Depends what you mean by trouble. He’s
prissy.”
 
“Eh? Prissy? Isn’t he a wizard? Isn’t that, like…aren’t they the most powerful
warriors?”
 
“Rei is,” Koga supplies. “But this one’s kinda shrieky. And fluttery. Real
nervous. Pretty, though, and tall. Taller than you. Looks like he was probably
money, but like…not really, y’know, the kind that used to be but fakes it. But
now he’s a wizard, so that don’t matter. Also, his hair’s pink. Glamours are
dumb.”
 
“Wow,” Kaoru says flatly. “He sounds stupid. Really dumb. Ugh, and Rei can’t do
anything about this?” He slumps forward, head in his hands. “Damn. This is
awful, there should definitely be a rule against this happening to someone
who’s already married.”
 
“It’s a magic thing, there’s nothing you can do about it.” Koga hesitates, and
glances over to Rei, then back to Kaoru. “He’s whining a lot now, but that’s
just ‘cause he can’t fuck anyone else,” he quietly says. “They were…real
clingy. I don’t know much about wizard magic and stuff, but they…I dunno, hear
it in the same way. Acted like it was a big deal, like it was a relief, almost.
Rei was real mad when the Emperor made him leave. I’ve never seen him lose his
temper like that…I don’t think he would’ve, if he had had the magic to burn the
Academy to the ground.”
 
The frank way that Koga says it makes Kaoru shiver a little. Rei is powerful,
he knows that, has seen it in person multiple times—but the vast majority of
their life together has been spent pursuing quieter, lovelier pleasures. “Good
thing he doesn’t have that kind of magic, then. I mean, obviously he could
level a regular building, but somewhere fortified like that…”
 
Koga chews on his lower lip, looking away again. “He’s had it before. He’ll get
it again.”
 
“I’ll get it,” Rei dully agrees as he emerges from his coma, slowly pushing
himself upright. He looks wrung out, shivering and gaunt where he sits, and he
pushes his hair out of his face with one hand, staring at Kaoru with lidded
eyes. “The Emperor is keeping what’s mine from me. I can feel right now what
he’s doing to him. Eichi would be lucky if I killed him quickly.”
 
“What’s his name? And, like, what’s so great about him?” Kaoru hears the
wounded, bitchy pride in his own voice, and ignores how childish it is of him.
He’s invested a hundred years, he can be a little cranky.
 
“Shu.” Rei pulls his blanket up to his chin. “Shu, of the Itsuki House.” He
sighs, his shoulders heaving in a shrug. “He Hears it.”
 
“Whatever that means,” Koga grouses, flopping onto his back on the floor.
 
“I don’t know much else about him,” Rei admits. “Other than how talented of a
wizard he is. Or that he’s…” He swallows, shrugging again. “I’m sorry, Kaoru. I
don’t want to think about this, but I have to.” 
 
Kaoru rolls his eyes. “Have I ever been jealous?” he demands. “I’ve had my
women, you’ve had your men, it never matters at the end of the day, you know?”
 
“No, but I can hear it in your voice. I’m still sorry.”
 
Kaoru winces. “Sorry. I know it’s not your fault. I just, uh…never thought
you’d be coming to me with something like…this. A mate. Your mate.”
 
“If it makes you feel better at all, neither did I.” Rei’s expression twists,
and he shucks his blanket, throwing his legs over the side of the chaise. He
bends forward, burying his face into his hands for a moment. “If it makes you
feel better…I’m already attempting to devise magic that will somehow…block this
thing. I can’t survive like this. Even if I was able to be with him, just
sleeping with one person…that’s not enough. If I don’t kill him, he’ll wish he
was dead, and that just makes me sick.”
 
“And we’re really concerned with how one Shu of the Itsuki house is doing over
everything else, right?” Kaoru licks his lips, hands fiddling in his lap.
“Sorry. I’ll try not to kill him if I ever meet him. My instinct is telling me
to end him, just so you know. Anyone who makes you like this…if I kill him, do
you go back to normal?”
 
“If you keep talking like that,” Rei quietly says, lifting his face from his
hands, “you’re going to have to leave.”
 
Kaoru stands abruptly, stretching out his arms above his head. “Maybe I should.
You can’t even touch me, right? You definitely don’t need a boring ex-paladin
wastrel hanging around while you’re trying to deal with…whatever this is.” And
I don’t know how much I can hear about this guy before I go looking for my very
shiny sword to kill him or me or both of us.
 
Rei opens his mouth to protest, then heaves a sigh, throwing up a hand. “I
can’t even touch you,” he admits helplessly. “And it hurts, because I want to
more than anything. I suppose now’s a good time to let you know that I’ve sent
that prophet to live in High Harbor. At your manor. Safekeeping. The Academy
can’t have him.”
 
Kaoru turns the words over in his mouth for a while, then shrugs, starting to
pick his bags up from the floor. “Fine. Give it to him. It’s yours, after all.
Take care of the puppy.”
 
“Kaoru—“
 
Rei hesitates, lifting his head to watch Kaoru’s back as he moves, gnawing on
his lower lip and wincing a bit when he tastes blood. “I’ll come find you,” he
simply says instead. “When this is done. When I’ve fixed it. You’ll be the
first one to know.”
 
“Try my family’s place up in the Hinterlands,” Kaoru suggests. “I figured I’d
tell you. You know, because there’s someone else that you feel all the time.”
He pauses, hand on the door, and takes in a deep breath. “I’ll stop being a
brat about it by then. I just have to…hate this for a while. Take care of
yourself.” And if he’s lucky, he’ll make it out of the brothel before Rei sees
him cry, which is highly embarrassing.
 
“You can keep being a brat about it all you want,” Rei softly says, flopping
back down onto the cushions. Koga leaps onto the foot of the chaise, circles
twice, and curls up at Rei’s feet as a scruffy wolf puppy instead of something
human. “I’ll still love you. Be safe, husband.”
 
Kaoru huffs, and yanks open the door. “And I’ll still love you even if you
never fix this. Goodbye, wife.” Damn, didn’t quite make it out in time.
***** Chapter 45 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
The Hinterlands in winter are brutal, and at any other time, Rei would never
find himself here.
 
But years have past, Shu is in the south, and here, so close to the North, so
close to the Shadowlands, on the outskirts of the Sharps, the stirrings of
unrest feel even more real. The manor that looms before him is what Kaoru had
always called the ‘Go-Away House’; one that Rei has never seen, but heard
stories about, and looks about as stern and stark as he would imagine a Holy
Knight’s northern hideaway.
 
It’s hard to imagine someone like Kaoru of the Hakaze family to be staying in a
place like this, but Rei catches his scent as easily as he used to, and feels
the thrum of that familiar strong, pure holy magic.
 
“Go, as we discussed,” Rei softly says, and behind him, the flutter of several
orange tails disappear into the forest. He sighs, straightening the heavy, fur-
lined wizard’s robe so that he looks a bit less like he’s been traveling for
weeks, and pushes the long, heavy fall of his hair back and out of his face,
resecuring it back up into its thong at the nape of his neck. The last time he
saw Kaoru—in a brothel, sobbing, as low as he’d ever been, hair cropped short
and wild after months of being out at sea and in the Isles, chasing tiny
wizards and prophets…well, at least he isn’t as much of a mess as he was then.
 
He reaches out to knock, and pauses. The door itself, covered in charms and
sigils, brings him pause, and instead of touching it, Rei bemusedly flicks a
sliver of magic into it, watching it light up like a fireworks display within
the Capital. That should alert Kaoru—or someone—to his presence, at least.
 
Steel thuds on stone. The huge front doors open, revealing five suits of armor,
each holding a wrought-iron spear, all animated in perfect unison, moving to
point the spears at the intruder. There’s nothing behind any of those visors,
ancient writings shimmering on each suit, breathing a semblance of life into
the suits of long-dead paladins.
 
“Stop!”
 
The cry is hoarse and startled, as a figure with flyaway yellow hair in a loose
nightshirt comes flying down the stairs, blue eyes wide. “Stop, stop! Ah, fuck,
what’s the cursed passphrase—“ He fumbles for a moment, then cries out a word
in an ancient, forgotten language, skidding to a halt as the suits freeze just
a second before letting the spears fly.
 
“Fancy,” Rei calls out, grinning as he steps up to lay hand on one of the once-
again inanimate suits of armor, poking at it with vague amusement. “Was this
supposed to kill me? That would’ve certainly been something…ah, hello, by the
way.”
 
“Very funny,” Kaoru grunts, running a hand back through his hair. He pokes at
one of the suits of armor himself, scowling as he tries to think. “Know any
magic that’ll make them go back to the old position? You know, because some
demon thought it would be funny to poke my wards and set my old family curses
into motion?”
 
“I probably would’ve no matter what,” Rei admits, cocking his head as he lays
his hand flat against one of the suits of armor, drumming long, black nails
against it thoughtfully. Then, a low, long surge of magic leaves the ground
rumbling, and each suit of armor slides back to its appropriate spot, tracing
the path of the curse that had willed it to move in the first place. The only
residue left behind is a few odd vines attempting to poke their way up through
Kaoru’s floorboards, and Rei gently squashes one underneath his boot. “There
you go. Anything else I should be worried about, or are you going to invite me
inside? It’s cold out here.”
 
Kaoru’s eyes widen, and he looks down at the ground, then back up at Rei’s
face. “You—you’re feeding,” he whispers, a long-cold hope kindling in his eyes.
“You’re properly feeding, is it—it’s that mate of yours, right?” Not too stupid
too fast, don’t go looking for something you know you can’t have, idiot paladin
that never knows when to give up.
 
Rei spreads his hands, a soft smile on his face. “I told you that you’d be the
first person I’d find when I fixed this mess, didn’t I?”
 
Fixed.
 
Kaoru swallows hard, taking a small step forward, then stopping himself, trying
to look at least a little bit less like a lovelorn maiden. “And by fixed, you
mean…”
 
“Do you really think I’d come all this way just to torment you?” Rei heaves a
sigh, striding forward and dragging that heavy door shut behind him with a
resounding clang. “Did I mention my mate is a brilliant wizard in his own
right? Who doesn’t wish to be on his back all the damned time because he’s
bonded to a sex wizard? He was quite enthusiastic about finding a way to numb
our bond as well, so between the two of us…”
 
“So you are still mated,” Kaoru says softly, leaning against one wall. “That
part isn’t what you fixed, huh?” Part of him wants to grasp at what’s being
offered, with all the loneliness of the last near-decade, but part of him, a
stubborn, romantic, irrational part, still clings on. “I can’t pretend I wasn’t
hoping that when you showed up, you’d be free of all that. But sure, I guess
someone being tired of putting out for you is a good reason to say hello.”
 
“Breaking the bond isn’t an option, Kaoru. I told you that before.” Rei leans
back against the door, staring back at him. “But I am free, as free as I’ll
ever be, as much as I was before, when I met you. More so, maybe, because I
don’t have to skulk about and hide myself all the time. Eichi is dead.”
 
At that, Kaoru grins. “I heard. You know, I might be isolated up here in the
Hinterlands, but I still get mail. I heard if I really want to get my money’s
worth out of you, I should slap you out in my garden instead of my bedroom,
right?”
 
“If you want enough crops that they’ll start rotting, just fuck me,” Rei
wearily says. “My magic’s been a little…unrestrained? For the past couple of
years. I’m not meant to be monogamous, as you and I both know. Naturally, I
would prefer being slapped in the bedroom—gently, but still slapped.” He cracks
a smile, tilting his head. “I loved you first, you know. Don’t tell me to leave
after I kept my promise.”
 
Kaoru wavers—be mine, be only mine, you bastard, tell me I’m good enough at
least—but it’s Rei. He’s never been able to say no to this man, not for more
than a century, never been able to chase him away even if it would have been
vastly more convenient for both of them. He takes a step forward, and lays a
hand on Rei’s cheek, stroking his thumb gently over that pale skin. “I hated
seeing you pull away from my touch,” he says softly. “I have bad dreams about
that day.”
 
It would be a lie to say that Rei doesn’t brace himself. With Mika, in the
Capital—that had been a successful experiment, but it barely counts. Both he
and Shu knew that. The same applies to Mao, of course, with every treaty and
contract between them. Kaoru is someone entirely unrelated, unattached, and to
feel that touch without any hint of revulsion makes Rei exhale the breath he
holds, his eyes sliding shut as he leans into the touch with a pleased, shivery
sigh. “That’s awful,” he quietly says, turning his head to press a kiss to
Kaoru’s wrist. “I only have good dreams about you.”
 
“Oh, yeah?” Kaoru teases, almost pathetically relieved to see Rei enjoying his
touch again, that things really could get better. “Any part of me in
particular? Hmm, maybe I should take you up to my room and you could show
me…Er, actually, it’s kind of messy, we could always take one of the guest
suites for a while.”
 
“Do you have a girl up there?” Rei dryly asks, nipping at Kaoru’s wrist this
time and drawing a bead of blood to the surface of his skin.
 
Kaoru snorts. “I wish. Nah, just a lot of empty and mostly-empty wine bottles,
I’m afraid I’ve been quite a wretch for the last few weeks. And I got mad at
the staff and sent them away. Speaking of girls, how’s your magic? Strong?
Strong enough to, you know…?”
 
“You’re so predictable,” Rei complains, though there’s no actual irritation
behind the words. He sighs, batting Kaoru’s hand away, and in a fluid motion,
as if the light had shifted to reveal something that had always been there,
Rei’s form shifts to that of a familiar, far more feminine frame, willowy limbs
dwarfed instantly by the heavy wizard’s cloak that remains unchanged. “Happy?”
she asks, batting her eyelashes up at Kaoru. “Take care of me. Shu’s lovely and
wonderful, but he likes one thing: being on his back. I want to be petted for a
change.”
 
“Petting after,” Kaoru says, eyes alight at the sight of the form he’s missed
for so long. His arms wind around Rei, and then he’s moving, dragging Rei up
the long staircase to one of the guest suites, tossing him onto the bed. “Sorry
about the dust, I just couldn’t wait. Are you telling me that all the sex
you’ve had for nine years was on top? You?”
 
“To be entirely correct, it was only for three years,” Rei laments, sprawling
back into the enormous, soft bed with a satisfied sigh. “For six years after we
spoke, I was celibate. I wanted to die, rest assured. But—yes, all the sex I’ve
had for three years is with me on top.” His mouth twitches. “Don’t sound so
surprised, I’m capable.”
 
“Oh, I know,” Kaoru assures him, rucking up his oversized, unlaced nightshirt,
crawling onto the bed on top of Rei. “I love your capabilities, darling. I just
wonder if you’re happy that way.” He tosses one of Rei’s boots over his
shoulder, pressing a kiss to that newly-exposed ankle.
 
Rei exhales a pleased sigh, wriggling his toes and reaching up to unlace his
own shirt, tugging the layers open to reveal those heavy breasts that Kaoru is
so fond of. “I’m happy enough. But now we both can have what we want—I can
chase after you, and he can climb into bed with the Sandlands whore he keeps as
a pet like he’s always wanted to. Bonds rarely ruin just one romance, you
know.”
 
“Wow,” Kaoru says, amused as he crawls between Rei’s legs, fastening his mouth
over one nipple, suckling for a long minute, entirely distracted from his train
of thought as he fills his mouth with creamy flesh. His mind fires back up
after a while, and he raises his head, lips shiny and pink as he grins. “We
haven’t been to the Sandlands for what, sixty years? Are the whores still so
sweet?”
 
“Sweet and pretty,” Rei sighs, eyes lidded as he watches Kaoru’s mouth on his
flesh, stroking a hand through his hair and shivering as his nipples harden
underneath the slide of that warm tongue. “This one’s a wizard, though, so that
means he’s as mean as sin with a tongue as sharp as a knife. All wizards end up
like that. Mmn, come back south with me.”
 
“Sure,” Kaoru agrees easily, fingers working on the lacing of Rei’s trousers as
he mouths over the other nipple, coaxing it to life as he comes back to life
himself. It feels like it, like he’s been withering away in the dark and cold
for years, only to look directly on the moon’s pale, healing light once again.
“My love, I’ll go anywhere with you. Even to pick up your mate and his mean,
pretty whore.”
 
“Stoooop, I only need one telepathic person in my life,” Rei says with a laugh,
reaching up to unfasten the heavy cloak from around his shoulders, letting it
fall back into the bed in a heap of layered fur and silk. His chest heaves, and
his thighs spread with only a slight tremor running through him. It’s odd,
having someone else touch him after what feels like forever, but the way his
magic thrums and pulses makes it readily apparent how necessary it is. “Mika.
That’s his name. You’d like him, he’s your type. Tiny, dark hair and lots of
it, bossy, likes being petted only by the people he likes, brings around
strange animals that he thinks are cute…”
 
“Has it really been so long,” Kaoru teases, dragging his hands up Rei’s clothed
thighs, then fastening back to those perfect breasts, “since we were together,
that you think my type is a boy, sweetheart? You’re the exception, not the
rule. No one is as beautiful as you.”
 
“I’m going to remember that when you meet him and think he’s a girl,” Rei
teases right back, an uncontrollable shiver raking up his spine when Kaoru’s
hands slide up along his skin. “You said…you weren’t going to pet me until
afterwards,” he groans, licking at his lips. “Kaoruuu…I’m hungry, let me
remember how good you taste.”
 
“Can’t help it,” Kaoru says with a grin, pressing kiss after kiss to Rei’s
breasts, up to his neck, finally his mouth. “You’re so lovely, how can I not
pet you a little? Nnh, help me get these trousers off, I’ll remind you why you
should only be in skirts without undergarments, like a real virile paladin’s
lady.”
 
“That sounds preferable to fifteen million fancy things,” Rei breathes, tilting
his head up to kiss Kaoru back, then to nip at his lower lip, the tips of his
fangs dragging against the skin gently. He doesn’t draw blood, but he can still
smell it, and that makes his chest heave with overeagerness. Rei shifts,
arching his back, helping to kick off his trousers and leave him naked save for
the shirt half-clinging to him. “I missed you.”
 
Kaoru nestles his knees between Rei’s, the head of his cock rubbing against
Rei’s slit as he tilts his head to the side, presenting the throbbing carotid
artery for Rei to nibble on. “You ever put this pretty thing on for him?” he
breathes, easing the head in, cursing at how tight Rei is after so long. “Mm,
no, I can feel it, this is just for me, isn’t it?”
 
“A-ahh…fuck, fuck,” Rei whimpers, his nails biting down into Kaoru’s back as
his head falls back, panting up towards the ceiling. His legs shake, thighs
clamping down around Kaoru’s waist as he rocks up to meet him. “J…just for
you,” he breathlessly agrees, tongue dragging over his bared fangs before he
arches up, fastening his mouth to Kaoru’s neck and biting down hungrily.
 
The startling, heady pleasure that shoots through Kaoru makes him whimper, just
as it used to do when he was young, in love, and thought he and Rei were going
to be together forever. He arches and gasps, pressing his neck against Rei’s
mouth, rocking hungrily into Rei with every sweet pulse of his envenomed blood.
“Love you,” he mutters, embarrassed and high, sliding deep into Rei’s cunt.
“Make you mine again—“
 
Rei’s chest heaves as Kaoru slides in so deep that he swears he can taste him
in his throat—or he would be able to, if he didn’t taste anything but Kaoru’s
blood on his tongue, fresh and sweet and mind-numbing. He releases Kaoru’s
throat with a gasp, head falling back as he arches his back, fangs bared to the
ceiling as he grinds down, riding Kaoru’s cock as it sinks in deep, squeezing
tight around it and wincing with that slick, heady ache. “Love you, too,” he
dazedly breathes, hands sliding down low around the curve of Kaoru’s ass,
squeezing and urging him to stay in deep. It’s even more satisfying now,
somehow, after so long, after so long not being able to do this, and Rei hears
his voice break into breathless, eager whimpers.
 
Like this, it’s easy to forget everything. It’s easy to forget they’re not
meant to be, that Rei has a mate, that they’re fated enemies from a different
century, and the demon is doing a better job adapting to the current era than
the holy knight is. All that matters are the sweet curves and delicious suction
of Rei’s body, touching and squeezing and welcoming him in, hands on his ass,
mouth as hot and sweet as it’s ever been. “It’ll take this time,” he murmurs,
hips canting in hard, feeling their bodies slap hard together. “It has to,
baby, it feels so right…”
 
Rei’s breath stutters, the hot, overstimulated prick of tears rising
immediately to his eyes. “It b-better,” he rasps, throwing an arm over his face
as his hips grind down desperately, the slap of Kaoru’s skin against his own
making him shudder and clench down harder, biting his lip when that just makes
Kaoru feel even bigger inside. “Ah—gods, you’re—I s-swear you feel bigger now,
it’s been too loooong…”
 
He trails off as his muscles twitch and jerk, finally too overstimulated to
handle it, his orgasm leaving him arching and clinging harder to Kaoru through
every tremor.
 
“I heard…it takes better…if the woman spills first,” Kaoru says with a groan,
hips canting in hard as he finally spills, filling Rei with every slap of his
hips. “Ahh…my beauty…no one does this like you, drink me down…”
 
Rei shudders as he sags down, melting into the bed underneath Kaoru’s weight,
and the thrumming, thudding pulse of magic that washes over him like an
enormous tidal wave. He breathes deep, head falling back, and shuts his eyes as
he just basks in how it feels to feed on anyone other than Shu again. “Get hard
again,” he hears himself mumble dazedly. “I want…to keep trying.”
 
Kaoru grins, hair plastered to his face with sweat, and he props himself up on
an elbow, tracing a finger over Rei’s chest, down through his cleavage. “Have I
ever had a problem with doing that?” he asks mildly, cock twitching softly
inside Rei. “If I take too long, just give me the old Dustling treatment, hmm?
That thing you used to do with your finger?”
 
“Mmn…yeah, I remember,” Rei murmurs, stretching out with a pleased, sated sigh.
He squeezes his thighs loosely about Kaoru’s waist, making no attempt to move
away. “Gods, it feels good just to fuck again. And you’re so…sogood at it. I
feel like a person again.”
 
Kaoru presses gently in, flexing more than thrusting, in and out slowly to the
cadence of his breath. “I fucked you back to personhood,” he says with a smile,
hands sliding up and down Rei’s sides. “I’ll take that as a testimonial,
thanks.”
 
“I haven’t felt like a person in years, you’re fixing me,” Rei groans, biting
his lip as he savors the slow, pleasant ache of Kaoru moving so languidly
inside of him. “Ahh, just…just hold on for a second, don’t move, I’m all
squishy.”
 
“Squishy? That sounds good, right?” Kaoru stills, kissing Rei deeply, enjoying
the way it aches between the two of them, that delicious twinge of feeling he
always gets around this man, this one in particular. “You sure you want me
inside? Or does my tongue need to be there next? Ah, just tell me if you’re
about to lose the magic, I definitely don’t want my cock caught in you when
your pretty pussy disappears.”
 
“I’m so full up, there’s no way it’s going anywhere.” The overstimulation keeps
making Rei shiver, and he pets a hand absently through Kaoru’s hair, eyes
unfocusing to stare at nothing as he just…basks. “You can do whatever you want
to me. Ahh, gods, I’m so glad you were here…safe…no one could even get close to
you when all hell broke loose…”
 
Kaoru’s grin is rakish, and he tweaks one of Rei’s nipples. “Don’t lie, you
didn’t even think about me, your mind was all full of that frilly, fussy mate
of yours. One lonely holy knight up in the cold Hinterlands isn’t enough to
make you blink.”
 
Rei purrs rather than squeaks, back arching lazily up into that touch. “You
don’t know what I was thinking about over the past few years,” he huffs,
stroking his fingers down Kaoru’s spine. “I definitely jerked off and thought
about you all the time. And…I definitely sent spies up here on multiple
occasions to make sure you were fine. Sounds like you’ve been spying on me,
too, if you know how fussy Shu is.”
 
“The puppy blabbed about him,” Kaoru insists, fiddling with that nipple,
watching Rei pant and arch under him. “I’m totally cut off, you know.
Absolutely isolated. You don’t get less connected than this. And I definitely
didn’t hire one of those weird traditionalists from over the hill to Gaze you
guys whenever I was lonely. Nope, totally cut off. Who’s the king again?”
 
“Lee…o, ahh…” Rei flexes his nails in deliberately, dragging them up Kaoru’s
back. “I was the king…for a few weeks,” he says with a laugh. “No thanks. Being
the Demon King and Emperor is already too much. Now it’s this…tiny, scrappy
brat of a human…he’s a good person, but a total mess these days…mmnn, what else
did you see with your weird traditionalist? Shu’s lovely, isn’t he?”
 
“Absolutely not my type,” Kaoru says with a laugh. “I only got a glimpse, it
was a couple of years ago. I saw him having a meltdown about some kind of bird
painting in a tower wall? And then you showed up and calmed him down, there was
no sound, so I got bored and put my hand through the water.”
 
“He’s…very particular, I find it charming.” Rei’s lips twitch faintly. “He’s
definitely not your type. Which is good, I don’t have to worry about you trying
to poach him from me. Though that,” he absently, dreamily trails off, “would be
a very fun threesome…hmm…”
 
Kaoru shrugs. “I’m always up for a threesome,” he allows, and his cock twitches
in agreement, still buried inside Rei. “Oh, remind me to introduce you to the
cute, mean little traditionalist, he’s weirder than the rest of his family.”
 
“Weird can be fun. Mmn, roll over, I want to shove my tits in your face,” Rei
mumbles, giving Kaoru’s ass a half-heartedly slap. “What else, what else…oh.
There’s another half-blood that is definitely your type. You’ll meet him, if
we’re galavanting about. Ass like a woman’s.”
 
Kaoru rolls happily onto his back, presenting his face for tit-shoving. “Don’t
know why you always tell me there are all these men I’ll like, but I’ll tumble
anyone for you, sweet.”
 
“Because group sex is fun, and your cock is my favorite, so I want you involved
in every capacity,” Rei sternly reminds him, settling down to straddle Kaoru’s
hips before flopping forward and doing exactly as promised, tits shoved into
Kaoru’s face. “I need you to come south with me.”
 
Kaoru lets out a happy, absolutely unintelligible mess of syllables, muffled in
thirty pounds of flesh.
 
Rei props his chin up into one hand, sighing heavily. “That’s what I thought.
You’ll be less happy when I say it’s not just to go whoring.”
 
The next muffled sounds are a bit disgruntled, followed by a soft bite before
Kaoru surfaces. “Why would anyone ever go down to that cesspit except to throw
coins at pretty flesh? You develop a hunger for sand?”
 
“We can still go whoring—while we investigate a few things.” Rei smiles,
sitting back enough to pull his breasts at least mostly out of the way,
thumbing affectionately over the bite left behind. “While you’re my
bodyguard…more or less.”
 
“Bodyguard?” Kaoru gnaws his lip slowly. “In my official capacity, or am I
supposed to be your mysterious friend with a sword that just happens to glow
when demons are around?”
 
“That one.” Rei straightens up, combing long hair back from his face and
tossing it back over one shoulder. “It would be rather suspicious if I suddenly
had a holy knight on retainer, but…if I’m being entirely truthful, it can only
be you.” He grimaces. “You’re the only one that knows about my one very
particular weakness.”
 
Kaoru grimaces, propping up on his elbows. “Female magic user, huh? I hate
those, I always feel like such a bastard going after them. Do I get any info,
or is this particular muscle just flying blind?”
 
“Female Enhanced, my least favorite,” Rei grouses, grabbing one of Kaoru’s
hands and pulling it up to one breast, just wanting to be touched. “She’s very
powerful. Powerful enough to allude other magic users and keep running a slave
ring for years now…powerful enough that her magic passed on. She has a
Nooncloak son, whether she knows it or not.”
 
“Ugh, too many magic users floating around these days,” Kaoru says with a sigh,
gently stroking over the breast against his hand, pressing a kiss to Rei’s
neck. He strokes a foot up the back of Rei’s leg, then down again, remembering
how a hungry Rei loves to be touched. “I miss when demons were just ugly
bastards we hit with swords until they were dead, that was lovely, eh?”
 
“I’m not good at hitting anything with a sword, but I remember when it was easy
to just slap things around with magic and win,” Rei quietly says, huddling up
against Kaoru’s chest, his eyes lidding. “Everyone thinks I take so much
pleasure from…all of this. Sneaking about, planning, plotting, manipulating.
Even Shu, sometimes…the way he looks at me…”
 
“That’s dumb,” Kaoru says softly, stroking up and down Rei’s back. “They’ve
never spent a dozen quiet summers with you, just playing stupid word games and
playing sitar while we grew way too many flowers up and down the manor walls.”
 
“Maybe not,” Rei says softly. “But I suppose I haven’t given anyone else any
reason to think better of me. You have the best hands, you know?” Rei butts his
face directly into Kaoru’s neck, breathing in deep. “So you’ll come with me?”
 
Kaoru pulls back, raising one eyebrow as he looks at him. “Have I ever said
no?”
 
Rei pouts, lower lip jutting out deliberately. “No, but…you have to promise not
to hate me after this, all right? My mate might be around sometimes, and so
might some of my friends that you’ll find questionable—for example, one’s a
Wavebred.”
 
Kaoru’s lip curls instinctively. “I’m not having a threesome with a Deepling,
before you ask, you pervert. I…ugh, I at least promise I won’t throw the first
blow, is that good enough?”
 
“I don’t want a threesome with him, that’s not what I’m saying,” Rei hastily
says, fluttering a hand. “That promise is plenty, thank you. I just wanted to
warn you—he’s integral to some of my plans, and beside that, I’m charged with
keeping him safe right now. Please call him a Wavebred to his face, it’s the
proper term and you know it.”
 
Kaoru makes a face, dragging a hand down it. “I don’t like it. I don’t like
working with them, I don’t like them, and I don’t like catering to their
precious feelings. How can you possibly be friends with one of them, you’ve
seen the shit they do!”
 
Rei’s lips part, and he sighs, turning over his words before he speaks again.
“This one’s different,” he finally settles upon. “Probably because he has a
half-human parent. He’s not just a Wavebred, he’s a wizard, so he has to answer
to me. And he has a clean record, and,” he adds before Kaoru can roll his eyes
and protest further, “he’s bonded to a human, one who works for me. If he
misbehaves, it’s easy to hold that over his head. I’ll point out which one is
his to you, too, so you can keep that up your sleeve.”
 
Kaoru subsides, but folds his arms over his chest, unhappy grumbles in his
throat. “I don’t like it. I already promised I won’t throw the first strike,
though, so that should be good enough. Who else? I assume it’s not just us and
a Deepling, you always did like a big crew.”
 
“Is that how I come off?” Rei pouts, stroking a hand down to Kaoru’s hip,
thumbing over the jut of bone. “Well, it’ll be us, a Wavebred—Kanata is his
name, by the way, let’s start calling him by that—maybe his bonded, who is
currently watching over your estate in High Harbor, by the way, and…if I have
my way, the Captain of the Kingsguard and whomever he drags along with him.
I’ve already sent multiple spies ahead of me to the Sandlands—including,
because he’s stubborn and clearly wants to give me heart palpitations, my own
mate.”
 
Kaoru slowly drums his fingers against the bed. “And none of them can know who
I am,” he states for the record, turning the facts over in his mind. “Are any
of them old enough to remember that we’re married? If not, I’m guessing that’s
a secret, too. Unless you told your…mate.”
 
Rei smiles and scoots closer, deliberately pressing his breasts against Kaoru’s
chest. “Let’s save that for the big reveal where you save my life as a dashing
knight, shall we?”
 
“Aaaand that sounds like no,” Kaoru says with a sigh, but at least there are
boobs. Boobs are good, and distract him quite handily from how moody he’s
starting to feel. “What’s the mission, besides protecting you while you bother
dangerous people?”
 
“Officially? A few noble children were kidnapped and sold into slavery. Get
them back. But I want more than that—I want the trade done and over for good,
so I need to kill the queen of the hive. I have connections to the royal family
funding it all, and their youngest prince that wants it demolished as well.”
Rei slings a leg over Kaoru’s hip, squishing himself closer. “Ah. Kanata is
probably old enough to remember—our marriage, I mean. He won’t say anything,
though, he doesn’t care.”
 
Kaoru snorts. “Of course he won’t, fish don’t care about marriage, and it’s not
something he can eat. Poor bastard, whoever’s bonded to that. You’re really
trying to get rid of the slave trade? The whole slave trade? Our people tried
to move against it years ago, there are too many of them.”
 
“Well…the worst of it,” Rei hedges, reaching up to fiddle with the ends of
Kaoru’s hair. “The unwilling kind. A misnomer, isn’t it, to call them slaves
when most of them want to be bought and sold? This is the dangerous kind,
though, the kind that doesn’t contribute to the Sandlands economy because it’s
selling to disgusting Capital denizens, so it’s just ruining lives. Children’s
lives. Officially, I have no stance on this, but I’m telling you privately that
it turns my stomach. The king turns his nose up at me because I’m ‘noncommittal
and uncooperative’ and because I still have my brothel down there, collecting
the little things.”
 
“Politics,” Kaoru says gloomily. “Somehow, you got suckered into politics,
after all these years of staying out. You hate politics.”
 
“I hate it, so, so much,” Rei laments in agreement, his lower lip wobbling.
“And I’m bad at it. But they all think I’m so good and treat me like I’m the
end-all-be-all, and I’m very, very sick of it already. I’m expected to have an
opinion about everything and if it doesn’t coincide with the king’s, then I’m
the problem, always.”
 
“Does the king know?” Kaoru asks mildly, trailing a finger down Rei’s nose,
then tapping his chin. “I mean, I assume he knows you’re a Nightcloak, and
maybe a demon, but does he know you’ve been living in his kingdom for
centuries? That you used to bounce his grandfather on your knee?”
 
“The king,” Rei moodily says, “assumes I’m conspiring against him at any given
time, and that I only have eyes for Shu’s opinions. He’s wrong, but he was also
bonded to Eichi, so now he’s crazier than he was before. I don’t think he quite
understands how much I know at any given time; explaining to someone that I’m
centuries old never goes as well as it used to.”
 
Kaoru sits up, eyes wide. “The king,” he repeats slowly, “was bonded to Eichi?
Wait, I thought that was a wizard-only club, that’s why it—“ Never happened
with us.
 
“Wizards can bond to anyone. Both don’t have to be wizards, but…one of them
does.” Rei grimaces, glancing aside. “Eichi snapped their bond before he died.
That’s why Leo isn’t dead, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less…unstable.”
 
“Wow, what a great king he sounds like,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “I haven’t
seen him since I had to bring all the gifts to his birth, but he sounds like a
piece of work. This country, I tell you, it’s not what it used to be. Heh, I
sound like my grandmother, she always used to talk about the good old days, I
guess….it’s easy when you get this old.”
 
“He’ll be a good king if he doesn’t off himself first,” Rei wearily says, and
he noses up into Kaoru’s chest again, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “I
wish I had bonded to you,” he murmurs. “But we don’t get to choose those kinds
of things. I love Shu, but I loved you first.”
 
Regret wells up in Kaoru, and the deep sorrow that he’s been carrying around
for the last decade, driving him to drink and cold and this lonely mountain
mansion, and he turns onto his side, facing away. “I know it isn’t your fault,”
he says quietly to the wall. “I’ve had a long time to get used to it, all
right? Just…do me a favor. Play with me, fuck me, enjoy me, but don’t pretend
we can go back to the way it was. You’ve still got that bond, and you wouldn’t
get rid of it if you could.”
 
Rei curls up against Kaoru’s back, winding his arms around him and burying his
face into the back of his neck. “Even if I wasn’t bonded…it can’t go back to
the way it was,” he softly says. “I’m the Emperor now and the Demon King. We
were sort of doomed from the start, Sir Holy Knight.”
 
“Yeah,” Kaoru says softly, and doesn’t pull away, hands dropping to squeeze
Rei’s forearms. “It’s just…lame. It’s hard, when we’re like this, not to think
it’s going to be like that.”
 
“When we’re running about saving the world,” Rei says, butting his head against
Kaoru’s back, “we’ll have fun, too. And I can stare at your ass while you’re
swinging that sword around. It’s my favorite.”
 
“And after that?” Kaoru asks, staring straight ahead at the wall. “You go back
to your tower, right? And I stay here. And you come visit when you want fun.
And if you’re lucky, no one ever finds out you spent a century in my arms. All
the loose ends tucked away.”
 
“Would you rather I publicly declare you my consort?” Rei suddenly asks,
sitting up and staring down at Kaoru through the messy tumble of his hair. “I
will. I’m not afraid of what anyone will say. I don’t care if Shu doesn’t like
it, he knows who and what I am.”
 
“Stop it.” There’s an edge of steel in Kaoru’s voice, but he doesn’t move,
staring still ahead. “If you wanted to do that, you’d have done it years ago.
I’m not trying to barge into your marriage.” He spits the last word, mouth
twisting. “He might know what you are, but I doubt that extends to something
like this.”
 
“Years ago, I was trying to keep Eichi from ruining the lives of every single
wizard and from murdering me, forgive me if my first priority wasn’t declaring
the names of those I’d like to spend the rest of my life together,” Rei flatly
says. “I’m married to you, bonded to him—if you want to call them both
marriage, then fine, but then you’ve as much right as he to be announced at my
side. I haven’t told anyone because of your status. In spite of how we like to
be together, I’m still a man, and more than that, a demon. If you aren’t
formally disowned yet, you will be.”
 
Something hard and sick curls in the pit of Kaoru’s stomach. “Don’t do that.
Don’t make it about me. I never held back—I married you!” He sits up, some of
the lonely pain of the last decade showing in his eyes. “Rei…just leave me
alone, when this is done. Just leave me alone. I’ve gotten used to it. At least
one of us should have a home, and I don’t belong in yours.”
 
“That’s not fair.” Rei’s voice is quiet, his fingers slowly curling into the
bedsheets. “The Academy isn’t my home, and neither is the Shadowlands. I belong
as little as you do.”
 
“None of this is fair, Rei.” Kaoru shoves his hair back from his face. “If you
want to build a life with me, all you have to do is come up here, or go to High
Harbor and send for me. I’ve…I’ve been unofficially disowned for years, but I
can’t stop being what I am any more than you can, and a holy paladin can’t live
in a wizard’s tower, you know that. It’d unmake me.”
 
“So come back to High Harbor. I’m there whenever I can be, whenever I’m not
working, and that’s no different than before.” Rei leans closer, biting his lip
as he pauses, flipping words around in his head. “Kaoru…maybe I didn’t handle
any of this well before, but I’m trying now. I’ll do whatever you want—except
leave you alone, I can’t do that.”
 
Kaoru stares at Rei for a long minute, searching his eyes for answers. Then,
finally he throws up his hands. “Yeah. All right. To every damned hell with it,
when all of this is over…I’ll move back into my house. And I’ll wait there.”
 
Rei shifts closer, his fingers curling around Kaoru’s thigh. “It’s going to be
a lot less waiting,” he very seriously says, “and a lot more entertaining. You
vastly overestimate how much time I like spending within the Academy.”
 
Kaoru grins. “That place is an abomination, you know,” he says
conversationally. “And according to my scripture, someday the gods will purge
you false idols from the country. See, even if you were just a wizard, I’d
still be disowned for being with you, male or not.”
 
“Sexy.” Rei bats his eyelashes, sliding his arms up and around Kaoru’s neck,
trying to hide the little, relieved tremor that runs through them. “Did you
hear? I decorated the whole Academy with dogs.”
 
“How many puppies did the latest Oogami sire?” Kaoru asks, flabbergasted.
 
“Eh? Oh, none, actually. I meant just—dog things. Like figurines. Shu makes
them all the time when I told him I liked dogs. It’s good.”
 
“O-oh. That sounds…festive?”
 
“I think it’s much better than the previous doom and gloom that the Academy
looked like, even if Shu…takes my love of dogs a bit too far,” Rei says with a
laugh, his hands sliding up through Kaoru’s hair to muss it. “Kao~ru. I like
you too much to let you escape me, you know.” The deep red of his eyes glitter.
“It’s not often a holy knight gives themselves to someone like me.”
 
A deep, red-tinged shiver runs through Kaoru, making him shiver down to his
toes. He pauses for a long moment, then launches himself at Rei, kissing him
deeply, teeth nipping into his lips, hands grabbing his shoulders tightly. “Or
that a demon rusts themselves to a paladin,” he growls, his own teeth glinting
in the low light. “We’re both dangerous.”
 
Rei’s mouth parts hungrily, fangs catching against Kaoru’s lower lip delicately
enough that no blood draws to the surface, but the razor sharp strength of them
is still so easily felt. “That’s the most fun,” he purrs, nails biting into
Kaoru’s back as he topples over with a laugh, dragging Kaoru with him. “And if
no one knows about either, that’s when we’re at our most lethal. I love it.”
 
You never thought that before, Kaoru almost says but instead, bites that
swollen bottom lip again, maybe a little harder than he’d intended, tasting
blood. “I like being lethal with you. Those…whoever the fuck we’re fighting,
they won’t know what hit them.”
 
“Shitty child slavers?” Rei teases, tongue flicking out to taste his own blood,
shivering a little when Kaoru’s own taste lingers behind as well. “When’s the
last time you’ve actually been in action, huh?”
 
Kaoru snorts. “In the Hinterlands? I’m lucky if an especially mean deer wanders
by my place and starts bothering my geese. Though, you know, I’m not really
supposed to fight humans with my holy weapons.”
 
“Enhanced are different.” Rei sighs, mouthing a kiss back down to Kaoru’s neck,
sucking slowly on the thud of his pulse. “They’re…mnn. Barely human. The really
strong ones have struck up odd deals here and there with creatures that are
definitely not human. How is your skin so soft?”
 
“Not bad for an old geezer, eh?” Kaoru teases, breath catching as he tilts his
head to the side. “Damn, you were really hungry, weren’t you? Promise you’ll at
least kick the nonhumans towards me, my sword doesn’t work on full humans, and
I’m not too sure about Enhanced.”
 
“We can test it on one of the Academy brats,” Rei murmurs, sucking firmly
enough to leave a hickey behind, then moving onto another spot to leave a
second mark. “Just, mm, keep the girls away from me. No one else is allowed to
know. And yes, I was hungry, and I’m still starving…”
 
Kaoru leans in, then pauses, frowning as he goes perfectly still, listening
hard. “Something’s tripped my wards,” he murmurs, and jumps out of bed,
grabbing for his nightshirt. “You bringing friends?”
 
“No.” Rei frowns, and a flutter of shadow returns his form to that of his usual
male one (and, as per usual, anatomy is more or less the only thing that
changes). “I sent away my children—er, spies, before stepping past your wards,”
he adds, plucking his cloak up and sweeping it up and around his shoulders.
 
Kaoru tugs on his shirt, then runs to the window, looking down with a slight
frown. “I think…this is one of yours, Rei. Ooh, and one of mine, that’s my
traditionalist’s weird son, and he’s definitely wearing a dress, this promises
fun.”
 
Rei follows after him, peering out of the window and heaving a sigh. “The
little red-haired one is definitely mine,” he says, even as he hooks an arm
around Kaoru’s waist from behind. “If you like, we can ignore them. That’s the
prophet that cursed me to a life of forced monogamy.”
 
“I thought he just foresaw it, not did it on purpose, right?” Kaoru drums his
fingers on the windowsill, then winces when a blast of magic crackles against
his wards. “Ouch. The little bitch is mean to my door. Guess we’d better let
them in.”
 
“But I’m still hungry,” Rei murmurs, turning his face into the side of Kaoru’s
neck and nuzzling up behind his ear, tongue snaking out to trace the shell of
it. “And you’re still pretty. He’s not technically mine, anyway; he belongs
very much to another abomination, I can smell it from here. That must be what’s
tripping your wards.”
 
Another blast, and Kaoru grimaces. “He’s going to bring down my big, pretty
doors if you don’t do something soon. And do not offer to put them back up,
last time you put a wall up in my house it didn’t stop growing for three
months, I had to get five architects to fix the structural damage.”
 
A noisy sigh follows that. “Fine. Then let’s go down together; the odd little
traditionalist isn’t the only one that wears dresses, trust me.”
***** Chapter 46 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Kaoru knows before opening his eyes that Rei is gone.
 
It isn’t magic. It isn’t any sense of the holy knights that have raised and
trained him. It’s the cold absence of a lover who’s disappeared before, letting
Kaoru pick up the pieces. He breathes deeply before opening his eyes, and sees
the empty spot where Rei’s bedroll had lain. He doesn’t have Rei’s skill of
seeing magic everywhere, but hardly needs it to know that Rei had fed before
leaving, and deeply.
 
Slowly, he shrugs on his nightshirt and a pair of leggings, padding barefoot
out to the predawn light, stretching slowly as grey light starts to give way to
pink. “Of course you’re the first one up,” he says with a sigh, leaning on a
tree’s gnarled trunk near the still form of the Deepling, who’s slowly rocking
side to side. “You see him go?”
 
Kanata pauses, stilling for a moment as he stares up at Kaoru, eyes glowing
that strange, inhuman green even in the morning light. “Rei?” he asks slowly,
his head cocking to the side. “He…went away. I can contact him,” he adds,
pulling out a single coin from the folds of his linen robes, rubbing his thumb
over it. “But…once. Only once.”
 
“He’s an idiot, you know,” Kaoru says conversationally. “He’s not invincible.
What the hell is the point of drafting muscle if you’re going to leave it
behind without orders?” He looks down at Kanata, then scowls. “Never mind, you
wouldn’t care.”
 
“He said…you knew about his plans.” Kanata’s stare lids, long, dark lashes
hooding the gaze that follows every one of Kaoru’s movements. “Are paladins…so
forgetful? Maybe…you’re the one that doesn’t care…”
 
Kaoru’s hand twitches, fingers itching to grip the hilt of a sword. “I know the
basic plan, but the details…what, did he tell you? I can smell him on you.”
 
Kanata’s eyes flick down to Kaoru’s hand, then back up to his face again. “Last
night…we didn’t talk very much.”
 
Damn. Too transparent. Kaoru folds his arms over his chest, leaning back
against the tree. “Yeah, I bet. You’re bonded to that Captain that’s looking
after my city, right? How does that work?”
 
Kanata’s lips purse. “Rei…has been telling you things,” he slowly replies,
climbing to his feet in a rather wobbly fashion, as if human legs are still an
oddity to him (they are). “What do you mean…’how does it work’?”
 
“I mean, I heard that a bond between a wizard or whatever, neither of them can
touch anyone else.” Kaoru’s fingers itch again, but this time they twitch for a
pipe or a drink, rather than his sword. “You don’t seem to have a problem with
that, though.”
 
“Oh…no…that only happens…when it’s very strong.” Kanata shakes his head firmly,
tendrils of long blue hair spilling free of the haphazard braid it’s wrapped up
into in the process. “Rei’s…is what you are thinking of. It’s special. Strange.
Too strong. Chiaki…” He trails off, shrugging. “He can’t feel it…so…it doesn’t
hurt us…”
 
Kaoru looks up at the sunrise for a moment, then down at the weird creature,
watching his hair ebb and flow down his back. “I heard you’re basically a baby
for your kind,” he says finally, crouching down to rest on his heels. “Rei says
you’ve never killed a human. That true?”
 
“…if I say I have, are you going to kill me?” Kanata wobbles, slumping back
down a moment later. He huffs, looking entirely too grumpy about his legs
existing. “I’m twenty-five,” he moodily says. “Is that…what old men like you
call…’babies’?”
 
Kaoru grins, though it’s not as cheerful as usual, and has a hint of tooth.
“Most people can’t tell how old I am. Compared to most of your kind that I’ve
fought, yeah, that’s what I’d call a baby.”
 
“My father…was half-human. What would you say…to humans that bed ‘my kind’?”
Kanata’s eyebrows slowly raise. “Or do you judge them…considering who you lie
with?”
 
Kaoru raises his hands. “Hey, I’m not the bedding police. It’s just the slow
murdering of human kids I’m against. I don’t care what special caves anyone
wants to spelunk.”
 
“That wasn’t my clan. We…are being hunted, too. By slavers. Collectors. By your
people,” Kanata flatly says. “Because you think all of us…are the same.”
 
“The only time I’ve ever hunted Deeplings is in pursuit of captured kids,”
Kaoru says, anger rising in his tone. “If you don’t want responsibility for all
of you, don’t put all of my people’s sins on me. I left them for a reason.”
 
“You still carry their sword. Their wards.” Kanata’s words are cold, but his
stare is intent. “Do not…call me that name.”
 
Kaoru rolls his eyes. “Sorry, Wavebred. Wouldn’t want to slander such a lovely
and storied breed of monsters.”
 
Kanata’s teeth bare, and he lurches to his feet with far more grace than
before, knocking Kaoru flat onto his back with long, sharp nails pressed at his
throat. “If you don’t want to be grouped in with paladins, maybe stop acting
like them,” he hisses, eyes slitted. “You are a monster.”
 
Kaoru tries to lurch up, but Kanata has him dead to rights, flat on his back at
his mercy. Kaoru’s teeth bare in turn, and he wishes he had fangs to match,
every fiber in his body tense, aching to grab a sword.
 
“He’s not like the rest of them,” Rei says in his memory.
 
He swallows hard, and sucks in a breath. “I’d hate it if people all thought I
was like them,” he finally grinds out, letting his head fall back against the
ground. “You haven’t done anything to me or mine. I…I was an ass. I’m sorry.”
 
Kanata’s chest heaves with a hard, heavy breath. His nails curl, but barely
even graze the skin, not drawing a droplet of blood to the surface as he
considers, watches, and slowly, begrudgingly, draws his hand away. He sits back
onto Kaoru’s thighs, still scowling down at him, mouth twisted into a deep
pout. “Kanata,” he says grumpily. The unhappy, tense flutters of his magic make
the escaped waves of his hair float about as if suspended in the sea even now.
“My name…is Kanata. Not Deepling. Not Wavebred.”
 
“Kaoru.” Kaoru sits up slowly, rubbing at his neck. “I, uh…yeah. Wrong foot. Or
fin, if that makes you more comfortable.”
 
 He’s not like the rest of them, he’s not one of them, don’t see those dead
kids every time you close your eyes, it’s been years, forget it, forget them…
 
He swallows hard. “You don’t wanna hear about everything I’ve seen. And
honestly, I don’t want to hear about all the crap that you’ve probably seen my
family do. I ran away for a reason, I assume you did the same. Rei spoke for
you, that should be enough.” It should be, even though his emotions churn, and
he wants to tell Rei he’s an idiot, that they shouldn’t ever be trusted.
 
“My family…sent me away. Because it isn’t safe.” Kanata frowns at him, curling
his hands into fists atop his own thighs so that he doesn’t slice into anything
accidentally. “Not…because of paladins. Not this time. Your kind did execute my
father, though,” he absently recalls. “Because…he was a ‘sympathizer.’ For
being a half-blood. Rei protects me now.”
 
Kaoru shoves his hair back from his face. “Gross. I hate that mentality. Just
so you know. And like you said, if they really knew about me, they’d probably
execute me, too. I haven’t lived by their rules since I was…damn, younger than
you. And that was almost a century and a half ago.”
 
“Mmmmm. You’re really…really…really…really old.”
 
Kaoru winks tiredly. “I use seaweed on my face, keeps me looking fresh. We do
age, though. And honestly, most of us die as young as regular humans, we’re not
any stronger than them.”
 
“But you’re old. So you’re stronger.” Kanata’s head tilts, and he leans in,
close enough that Kaoru can easily feel his breath on his face. “Oooor, you’re
Rei’s favorite.”
 
Kaoru turns to face him, humor gone from his eyes. “I’ve gone to the trouble of
being kind to you, Kanata,” he says quietly. “If you don’t want to do me the
same courtesy, this conversation can end.”
 
Kanata blinks, confusion clouding his expression. “I thought…I was being
friendly,” he sulkily says, drawing back. “Do you…not like Rei that much,
actually?”
 
Damn. Kaoru’s mouth tightens, and he sits on the ground, rubbing his hands over
his face. “I’ve never talked to a…a Wavebred this much,” he admits. “I thought
you were mocking me. Yeah, yeah, I like him…plenty. It’s just a secret.”
 
Kanata watches him for a moment longer before plopping down next to him,
sitting cross-legged on the ground. “A secret,” he echoes, tilting his head to
the side. “But he left bites all over you. You smell like him. Why…is it a
secret…?”
 
“Not…not that.” Kaoru looks around, and rakes the hair back from his face
again. “You were off the shore of High Harbor a decade ago, right? You must
know we used to live there.”
 
“I was small. And hiding. The bad Emperor wanted to keep me in a fish tank.”
 
“Yuck. I stayed clear of him, as much as possible. You know, with all the
genocide he was fond of.” Kaoru traces a pattern in the dirt, his other hand
reaching back to the grassblades. “That’s all awfully dark, isn’t it? Heh, what
do you think of Souma?”
 
“Dumb.” Kanata’s eyes narrow. “But maybe tasty. He calls me ‘Queen’, but that’s
not right. That’s my mother. I think…he wants me to order him around.”
 
“Weird kid, right?” Kaoru finally relaxes, and he plucks a blade of grass from
the ground. “You think my family is weird, theirs is super weird. I’m pretty
sure he worships you. Like, literally.”
 
Kanata wrinkles his nose. “Very…very weird,” he agrees. “He likes turtles…an
awful lot. I think…his family is the kind that used to want to be eaten by us.
He keeps talking to me…and following me around…but I don’t want to eat him.
Does he know Rei won’t marry him…?”
 
Kaoru’s smile is wry. “Wanting to marry Rei is kind of a human disease, I
think. But as far as I know, I’m the only one who’s actually done it.”
 
Kanata’s eyes widen, and he claps his hands together slowly.
“Congratulations…ah…but…it must have been awhile ago…yes? He likes you…a
lot…oooh, that explains…why he immediately went north, heh…”
 
“He said you already knew about it,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “I should have
known he was full of it. Yeah, it’s good, but it’s not like he isn’t bonded to
that other guy, right? Ugh, that sounds so dumb, forget I said it.”
 
“Rei says things to make more things happen,” Kanata says with a fluttery wave
of understanding. “And that other guy…Shu…he’s my friend. He’s good. He
has…other ‘connections’, too. Like Rei does. But…more complicated, I think…”
 
“It’s not like we were ever exclusive,” Kaoru mutters, feeling more like an
idiot with every second, unable to stop the words. “I mean, it would be dumb to
be with a sex wizard and expect him to keep it in his pants, wouldn’t it?”
 
Kanata reaches out to pat the top of Kaoru’s head without thinking. “Rei…is
very good,” he sympathetically says. “I know why someone…would want him all to
themselves.”
 
Without any more thought, Kaoru leans into that weird, vaguely moist touch,
seeking comfort. “It’s been a decade,” he whispers. “Since I had him all to
myself. You’d think I’d get over it. Have you ever…been really lonely, Kanata?”
 
Kanata pets both hands down the sides of Kaoru’s hair, stroking slowly.
“Mm…Chiaki…lives on the land. I…have to live in the sea. Pretending to be
human…is very hard,” he crossly adds. “So I don’t do it. I can’t. I miss
him…all the time…and he can’t even hear me…or feel me, through our bond. So…I’m
lonely…almost all the time.”
 
“He seems like a nice guy,” Kaoru says softly, eyes closing slowly. “Really
genuine. Good heart, and warm. You can just tell with some people.”
 
“Chiaki…is also very good.” Kanata curls his fingers, scratching his nails
carefully along Kaoru’s scalp. “Warm and good. He and Rei…are good friends.
Kaoru…” He leans closer, peering at Kaoru’s face before his hands slide down,
squishing his cheeks. “Rei…he takes care of everyone…but you take care of him.
I can tell…the way you two are around each other. It’s good.”
 
Kaoru’s eyes sting, and he blinks rapidly. “You, too,” he manages, before he
says something really embarrassing. “Sometimes you can just…tell the quality of
a person by the kind of people that love them, you know?”
 
Kanata’s head tilts, and he leans forward, promptly licking up the one streak
of a tear that escapes down Kaoru’s cheek. “Salty,” he approves. “It’s so dry
here. Stop leaking…or Rei will worry.”
 
Kaoru squeaks, pulling back at the surprising sensation. “U-um…Yeah, I don’t
usually let people…whatever, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he says, scrubbing at his
face with his hands. “And Rei isn’t worrying, he’s gone, remember? You were his
travel snack, right?”
 
“Chiaki was,” Kanata corrects, blinking back up at him and dropping his hands.
“Pure humans…are the tastiest. That’s why he really likes feeding from you. But
he’ll still worry. You should find him.”
 
“If he wanted me with him, he’d have woken me up,” Kaoru says with a shrug.
“And if he wanted a snack on the road, he could have brought me. He wants me
here, watching over all these people he holds dear, you know? I’ll do what he
wants. For now.”
 
“…You know him best…” Kanata settles upon, swaying a little where he sits. “The
Sandlands…are bad, though. Too dry. Don’t…let him get lost there, he’s silly.”
 
“Humans and demons don’t mind dryness, you know,” Kaoru says, managing a little
grin. “I think that’s way more like your people who have a problem with it.” He
pauses, then adds, “And you’re right. I do know him best.”
 
“The dryness is bad,” Kanata moodily retorts, looking sulky about it
immediately. “You know Rei. You don’t know everything.”
 
“Aw, don’t be like that,” Kaoru teases, reaching out to touch Kanata’s hair on
instinct, finding it oddly flowy and soft. “Just because I’m a land creature
doesn’t mean I don’t love the ocean. I do, I really do.”
 
Kanata’s lower lip juts in a deep pout. “But you left High Harbor,” he points
out. “To go up where it’s dry and cold. Rei told me about that, when he was
drunk,” he says. “And depressed. Maybe that’s why he thought I knew you two
were married…”
 
Kaoru snorts. “Yeah, because it was too sad for me to stay in the house we
lived in for a century without him,” he says, and realizes how pathetic that
sounds only after the words are out of his mouth. “I know that sounds sad. But
I…” He sighs, and turns to face Kanata, scooting closer to him. “Look, you want
to know why I left the paladins?”
 
“…Because…you fell in love with a demon?”
 
Kaoru shakes his head. “I left them before I met Rei. Years before. It wasn’t
for love.”
 
Kanata blinks back at him, contemplative, then he slowly nods, reaching up to
pull his mess of a braid over one shoulder and unwind it, finally sick of the
fly-aways that literally keep trying to fly away with the occasional odd
current of magic fluttering off of him, and needing to fix it. “I believe…that
you aren’t bad, like them,” he carefully says. “But proof…is always better.”
 
“It…hey, do you want me to braid that?” Kaoru wiggles his fingers. “I’m great
at it, ask anyone. I’ll braid it while we talk.”
 
Kanata looks skeptical for a moment, then releases his hair into Kaoru’s
custody. “It wants to go,” he offers up simply. “It misses the sea, maybe…I
know my magic does…”
 
“I used to know a girl with hair like this,” Kaoru says cheerfully, scooting
around so his front is to Kanata’s back, deftly untwisting his braid. “No fear,
no fear, maybe my holy fingers will frighten the strands back into balance,
heh. Anyway.” He’s silent for a moment, finger-combing Kanata’s hair,
corralling the wayward strands into good behavior. “Their lives are so ugly. I
wanted to live a life full of beautiful things. All they think about is
tributes and the family name and how to get more tributes to the family name.
They don’t care about helping people, they only want to defeat demons when
those demons are threatening rich people, or their constituents. They don’t
care that the paladins are supposed to serve the whole country, they just say
things like, ‘Oh, that’s when there were more of us, now that there aren’t so
many we have to protect our own.’ As if being a holy knight with a charge
directly from the gods was ever supposed to be about protecting our own?”
 
“…That sounds…a lot like how the bad Emperor started running the Academy,”
Kanata muses, holding still to let Kaoru work, his eyes lidded in thought as he
picks absently at the hem of his sleeve. “Or how some of the other clans of
Wavebred started acting…about humans, or ‘protecting’ their own…I guess…bad
people are usually bad in the same way, huh…”
 
“Their stories don’t teach that way,” Kaoru says quietly, smoothing the
flyaways, corralling the mess of hair into a rather lovely braid, starting at
the crown of Kanata’s head. “Their stories, the ones they raise us on? They
teach that we always protect whoever needs us the most, whoever’s afflicted by
the powers of darkness. You know, we have swords that don’t kill humans.”
 
“Do they teach you…how to kill humans in other ways, then…?” Kanata wryly asks,
watching out of the corner of his eye as a tendril of hair tries to knot itself
around Kaoru’s wrist. Hmm. “It seems silly…to go through all the trouble of
having a fancy sword…if you aren’t using it properly…you know?”
 
“Properly?” Kaoru asks, eyebrows raised. “You think it’s more proper to kill
humans than to kill demons?”
 
“That…was a joke.” Kanata pauses. “Maybe…a bad one. It’s okay…my kind…don’t
understand my jokes either.”
 
Kaoru cracks a smile, and bats the rogue tendril back into place, smoothing it
gently into its braid. “If it helps, my kind understand mine, they just hate
them.”
 
“My mother…blames it on my father,” Kanata cheerfully says, eyes lidded as he
tilts his head back to peer at Kaoru. “Because…he had human in him. I don’t
know why my kind want to eat humans,” he adds suddenly. “They taste strange.
Souma…wants me to eat him, I think?”
 
“Nah, not really,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “He’s a weird kid, but he doesn’t
want to die, not really. He just likes the old stories of your kind taking his
kind as sacrifices. I bet he’d let you eat him in other ways, though.”
 
Kanata pauses to consider that for a moment, then rolls his eyes. “He
said…something like…’if you were my wife…I bet you’d dominate me.’ He’s…not
very subtle…”
 
“Ah, no. He wants you to fuck him. And he’s embarrassingly obvious about it. I
bet if you told him he was a sacrifice, he’d spill on the spot.”
 
“Sounds…messy.”
 
Kaoru shrugs, and ties a deft, lovely knot in the end of the braid. “He’s
pretty, though. And he has a good, pure heart. If it were another era, my kind
would recruit him.”
 
“Even though…he wants to be nibbled on…by a Wavebred?” Kanata asks archly,
twisting partially around to peer directly at Kaoru. “He’s…not my type.”
 
Kaoru feels a sudden rush of heady contact run through him, and he lets go of
the braid, cheeks coloring as he looks away. “You go in for high-energy
warriors of truth and justice, don’t you? Sounds like your type to me.”
 
“I…” Kanata pauses, thinking it through. “Like handsome boys…that are good with
swords. With good hands. And can swim.”
 
“How…specific,” Kaoru manages, feeling the blush grow in his cheeks. “How many
of those are there running around, huh?”
 
“Mmmn…two.”
 
“L-lucky boys.”
 
“And…you?” Kanata slowly asks, turning around entirely and leaning in, peering
into Kaoru’s face. “What…do you like?”
 
Kaoru opens his mouth to say girls, but what comes out is, “Good-hearted even
if they’ve got shitty family. Tall. Gorgeous. Sharp teeth, sharper wit. Just on
the border of something I should kill and something that should kill me.
And…really great hair.”
 
Kanata’s eyebrows raise slowly. “And…how many of those…are running
around…Kao~ru?”
 
“Ah…I think that would be…about two.”
 
“Then…we’re the same.” Kanata smiles, allowing a brief flash of sharp fangs to
show. “I bet…you taste good.”
 
“I bet I do, too,” Kaoru says with a grin, leaning a little bit closer. “I’ve
always heard I do. Ever tasted a holy knight before?”
 
Kanata pauses, thinking, and then slowly shakes his head. A curl of a fly away
still somehow manages to free itself from Kaoru’s far more expertly done braid.
“I wonder…” He reaches out, running his fingers down Kaoru’s chest. “If you’re
nice and warm inside…like Chiaki is…?”
 
“I, ah…think that’s the kind of thing you’d have to find out for yourself,”
Kaoru says, breath coming a little more quickly as he leans in. “Are you sure
you can play around without your brightly burning boy around?”
 
Kanata blinks, contemplative, then simply scoots forward, tilts his head, and
grabs Kaoru’s face up in one long-fingered hand, dragging him in to kiss him.
When he withdraws, it’s with a long drag of tongue, tasting the sticky-slick
inside of his mouth thoroughly. “Mmm…nothing feels bad,” he thoughtfully says,
releasing Kaoru’s face as he leans back, running his tongue over his lower lip.
“He does it with the snake when I’m not here, though…so…it shouldn’t be
different…”
 
“I just don’t wanna fight him,” Kaoru says with a grin, letting his hands come
up to rest on Kanata’s hips, fingertips digging in gently. “Jealous lovers are
a total drag. You want to…take this into my tent, maybe? I’m sure that weird
kid will be getting up to practice his swordsmanship in a moment. Unless you
want him to put his hands all over this…”
 
“Chiaki…isn’t the jealous type…but Souma…is dumb,” Kanata agrees, eyeing Kaoru
for a moment before nodding, and wobbling his way back up to his feet. “I…don’t
really want to play with him.”
 
Kaoru stands smoothly, not a hint of his age in the motion, taking Kanata’s
hand to lead him back to his tent. A niggling tinge of guilt threads through
him, which is stupid, since Rei sleeps with everyone he can and he’s never felt
hesitant about such a thing before.It’s never been a man before, he thinks,
idiotically, as he ties the tent flap shut. “Playing with you sounds fun,
though.”
 
Kanata’s eyes lid before he flops forward into Kaoru’s chest, arms sliding
around his neck. “I think…I’m fun,” he says softly. “My mother…would punish us
both…for this. But it seems…worth it. Like…making a treaty, heh.”
 
Kaoru’s smile glints in the low light. “If my grandparents found out, they’d
say execution was too good for me,” he admits, though it doesn’t dampen his
enthusiasm much. “Rei is one thing, but a D—a Wavebred, that’s something else.”
 
“Rei…is the Demon King,” Kanata slowly points out, amusement flickering across
his face. “And I’m…still worse?”
 
“To my grandparents? Oh, yeah.” Kaoru shrugs, his smile dimming slightly. “They
were on the front lines during the last Incursion. I must have heard the story
a thousand times, even if it was five hundred years ago. My grandfather’s the
oldest surviving member of his line, the rest all died that day. That was…oh,
that was the Fukai clan of your people, right?”
 
Kanata exhales a breath through his nose and gives Kaoru a firm shove, toppling
him over onto his bed roll with far more strength than his slender from belies.
He plants his hands to either side of Kaoru’s head, leaning over him. “My
mother’s brother’s clan,” he says. “He’s dead now. She ate him, and became
Queen.”
 
Kaoru’s breath stutters, and he reaches up to unfasten every tie he can reach
on Kanata’s clothing, legs splaying out along the ground. “So I’m rolling over
for the nephew of the Scourge of the Holy Order? Hot.”
 
“One day…I’ll be the Queen,” Kanata says with an amused little smile, lifting a
hand to idly drag it down Kaoru’s chest, his long nails fraying fabric. He
shrugs off the top layers of his robes, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Clothes…are bad,” he crossly adds, pulling at Kaoru’s laces.
 
“Easy, easy, your nails are sharp,” Kaoru protests with a laugh, shucking his
leggings and tossing his nightshirt back over his shoulder. His hands come up
to brace on Kanata’s chest, eyebrows rising. “You’re a lot stronger than you
look with your robes on,” he notices, fingertips trailing the cleft between the
other man’s pectorals.
 
“Sorry…about the nails…” Kanata glowers at them for a moment before shrugging,
and pouncing onto Kaoru again, breath hot against his ear. “If you let me have
you in the water…you’d know exactly how strong I am,” he breathes, nipping
carefully so that he doesn’t break the skin. “I’ll try not to bite…too hard…Rei
wouldn’t like that, I can smell him all over you…”
 
“Yeah, it’s supposed to smell like that,” Kaoru says firmly, and tries to twist
over. “With another guy, I prefer it…nnh, I hate lying on my back, you know?”
 
“Like a girl,” Kanata absently observes, but he obliges without protest,
flipping Kaoru over effortlessly. His mouth presses to the back of Kaoru’s
neck, sucking on the skin as his hands drag down to Kaoru’s hips, trying not to
let his nails bite in too much when he grinds forward languidly, the hard line
of his cock rubbing against the curve of Kaoru’s ass.
 
The second Kaoru gets facedown, his nervousness disappears, eyes sliding closed
as he shifts up onto his knees, rubbing back eagerly on the stiff shaft
pressing against him. “You, nnh, you do this often, with that big strong
Captain of yours?” That’s a pretty image, even if it’s not his usual fantasy
material.
 
“Mmn…he’s a lot smaller when all that armor’s off…” Kanata’s mouth roams over
the back of Kaoru’s shoulders, sucking, biting carefully. “He likes it like
this, too,” he murmurs, sighing out a breath at how it feels to just rub
against Kaoru, letting their skin slide against one another. With the sun
rising, it’s already getting hotter, and at least sweating makes him feel a
little less like he’s drying out. Another little bite, and he does draw blood
this time, the taste of it making him shiver. “You…mmn. You taste…very good…”
 
“It’s all the holiness,” Kaoru gasps, reaching down to give his cock a slow
stroke as he arches. “It’s in my veins or whatev-ver, aahhh, it feels really
different when you d-do it than when Rei does…”
 
“In a good way…?” Kanata distractedly asks, trying not to bite down again until
Kaoru confirms if it’s good or not. Chiaki’s reactions, at least, have beaten
being careful into him. He slides a hand between them to ease his cock out,
settling more steadily onto his knees, and letting the head of it drag against
that tight hole. “If you have oil…gimme,” he murmurs, licking a stripe up the
side of Kaoru’s neck.
 
“Fuck,” Kaoru groans, letting his forehead thunk onto his bedroll, one hand
flapping uselessly to the side. “In that bag, the leather one, there’s a whole,
a whole thing, a big skin of it, put it on and get in, yeah?”
 
“Kaoru…is surprisingly…kind of a slut,” Kanata observes with vague amusement in
his voice, pulling back to grab up the bag in question and pull out the skin of
oil. It drips messily over his palm, over his cock, and he slicks it up the
length of it before letting it nudge against that tight hole again. “Is it
okay…if I nibble a little…?” he breathes, planting a hand next to Kaoru’s head
as he rocks forward, that first, aching press easing the head of his cock
inside.
 
Kaoru nearly agrees without conditions, but remembers not to be an idiot at the
last second, some of his ancestors’ teachings about Wavebred flaring in his
mind. “Don’t…take any flesh,” he clarifies, reaching back to spread himself
open, one finger dragging through the oil to tug at the side of his hole,
brushing against the thick, pulsing cock sliding into him. “Nnh, that’s good,
that’s so good—one big swallow or three little sips, fuck, that’s good, you’re
so thick—“
 
“I know better…than to eat you,” Kanata gasps, glancing down at where Kaoru is
being spread open, where they’re gradually becoming connected as he rocks
forward, careful not to go too fast. His thighs tremble from the effort, but
Kaoru is tight, and his cock spreads open that hole impossibly wide.
“You’re…mnn…you’re so hot inside…” Kanata breathes, his eyes fluttering as he
dips his head down, tongue dragging over the curve of Kaoru’s shoulder before
he bites down, not drinking, just holding, muffling the low, rumbling growl
that wells up in his throat.
 
“It’s been—a long—time—“ Kaoru’s voice is a ragged whimper, and he bites down
on his own forearm, bracing himself against the ground to better push back,
knowing from experience how much better it’ll be once the whole thing is
bottomed out inside of him.
 
When Rei bites, it feels like liquid heat, coursing through his veins. When
Kanata does it, it feels like he’s melting, like pleasure is slithering its way
inside of him, taking him over. “That’s—you’re so big, angle it down, I’ll come
for ages—“
 
Kanata releases Kaoru’s skin for a moment, panting open-mouthed against his
back as he grabs at Kaoru’s hips, hiking them up to make it easier to do just
that. He thrusts in hard, hissing out a breath through clenched teeth when he
slides in long and deep. “Good…?” he breathlessly asks, holding still for a
moment, savoring how Kaoru squeezes and tightens around him. He idly slides a
hand up Kaoru’s chest, thumbing over one of his nipples. “Ahh…these are really
hard, too…”
 
Kaoru lets out a low, heated curse, his cock starting to leak in a slow, steady
stream over his bedroll. It doesn’t feel like it’ll ever stop, when Kanata toys
with his chest, when the thick head of Kanata’s cock drags against his hole
with every slick thrust. “If you keep…touching me like this, fuck, yeah, I’m
just going to keep coming…”
 
“Good.”
 
It’s the last Kanata offers him before biting down again, sharp teeth sinking
into Kaoru’s shoulder and holding tight as he grinds in hard, each thrust
leaving the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in his ears. He
pinches, pulls at that nipple as he ruts in, taking his time to fuck in deep.
The taste of Kaoru’s skin underneath his teeth and tongue—his sweat, the
pinpricks of blood he allows himself—makes his own cock throb inside, dripping
with every roll of his hips.
 
Kaoru’s mind starts to fuzz pleasantly out into bliss, and his eyes squeeze
shut, his whole body tense and shivering and relaxed all at once. He bucks
lazily back against Kanata, just enjoying each pulse and tug of sensation
inside his body. “N-next time, I’ll eat you for a change,” he slurs, hands
fisting in his pillow. “Or maybe just…this again, yeah, that sounds real good…”
 
Another, harder bite, and that truly draws blood to the surface, which Kanata
laps up with a low, hungry groan. Wavebred don’t drink like Bloodbred; his
teeth aren’t fangs that make for perfect piercing tools, but instead, all of
them are sharp, enough to cut soft, human skin and bring blood welling to the
surface for him to lap and suck up. “Kaoru…can eat me if he wants,” Kanata
murmurs, shoving in harder deliberately, sliding an arm more securely around
Kaoru’s waist to yank him back onto his cock. “But I think…you like it when
you’re eaten a lot more, huh? Mmm, here…”
 
Kanata drags him back, forcing Kaoru to sit back into his lap as he kneels,
yank him down onto his cock. “It’s in sooo far like this…” he sighs, nuzzling
into Kaoru’s neck, rocking up languidly. “Be a good boy…and I’ll come in you,
okay…?”
 
“You’re so much stronger than you look,” Kaoru groans, flopping down on
Kanata’s lap, legs splaying to help him kneel, spread wide, sinking down on
Kanata’s cock with every deep thrust. It goes far deeper like this, enough to
make him whimper, so full with each rock that he presses a hand to his stomach,
though all he feels is his own taut abs. “Feels like I could, fuck, like, like
I could feel you all up here all the way to my chest, gods—“
 
“Good, maybe…I’ll stay there,” Kanata breathes, his hands gripping Kaoru’s hips
tightly as he fucks up slowly, licking at his lips at the way Kaoru squeezes
down around him with every movement. “Kaoru…you…mmnn…you really like this,
huh?”
 
Steadying Kaoru with his hands, it’s much easier to grind up, to keep fucking
him slow and deep, with each powerful thrust filling him as completely as
possible. Kanata gives up on talking, his breath escaping fast and hard into
the crook of his shoulder as every drip of his cock makes it slicker inside,
easier to grind in until his self-control snaps, and Kanata spills with a low
growling noise, stilling and yanking Kaoru down to make sure every drop stays
inside.
 
Feeling Kanata come inside of him frees another spurt of liquid from Kaoru’s
cock, and he gasps, hands digging into Kanata’s thighs. “Yeah,” he breathes,
though it’s hardly necessary at this point. “Yeah, yeah, I like it, you feel so
good in me, just stay there for a while.”
 
“Mm…o~kay…”
 
Kanata tips forward again, crushing Kaoru down to the bedroll underneath his
weight, and keeping his cock buried to the hilt in the process. “What if,” he
whispers into Kaoru’s ear, sounding completely serious, “I laid my eggs in
you?”
 
Kaoru’s hole twitches involuntarily, and he gulps. “You know what, fine, at
this point,” he groans, flopping facefirst down to the ground. “As long as you
stay in me, you feel so good there.”
 
“Ahh…really?” Kanata asks with a slow blink. “I was joking…but maybe I’ll do it
for real…ah, they won’t hatch, though,” he sadly says, petting a hand through
Kaoru’s sweaty hair. 
 
“Don’t really want you to,” Kaoru admits. “It just sounds kinda hot.”
 
“I can’t, anyway,” Kanata grumbles. “Wizard eggs don’t work. I’ll just come in
you a few more times.”
 
“Fair enough. God, you’re big, how do you walk upright?”
 
“Not…very well? Legs are hard…”
 
“Not the only thing, heh….”
 
Kanata rolls his eyes, and deliberately grinds in again to make a point of
that. “Rei’s bigger,” he says carelessly. “I know. Guess you like that.”
 
A squeak makes its way out of Kaoru’s mouth. “Nnh, yeah, but we don’t…do this
that often.”
 
“No?” Kanata can’t help but sound curious. “Ah…he does like it the other way,
but I’m surprised you do…”
 
“He turns into a girl. He’s got enormous tits, they’re very pretty.”
 
“Ooooh.” Kanata settles down comfortable, plastered to Kaoru’s back. His braid
is now decidedly mussed, and he unravels the end of it, letting it spill over
the two of them in a fluffy, curly mess that still looks, somehow, as if it
just came from the sea. “I win there.”
 
“You…win there?” Kaoru asks, his mind pleasantly fuzzy. “You keep ‘em in an
underwater cave?”
 
“My clan’s line…is matriarchal,” Kanata hums, licking slowly at one of Kaoru’s
bites. “So eventually…I’ll have to go be a girl all the time…so I can be the
Queen. I’ve done it before. They’re bigger than Rei’s.”
 
Kaoru sags down to the ground, toes slowly curling. “Hot. Please show me
someday. But right now…how long do you think we have until everyone gets up and
needs us?”
 
“Maybe…fifteen minutes,” Kanata sighs, stretching and in the process, rolling
his hips forward slowly. “Maybe…I can make you come again…?”
 
“Doubtless,” Kaoru says with a grin, stretching his hands up above his head,
toes wriggling as he squirms down. “As long as you stay hard and keep, nnh,
stirring me up inside…”
 
“It takes awhile for me…to get soft,” Kanata murmurs, leaning up to suck on the
lobe of Kaoru’s ear as his hips grind forward, easy and deep. “So let’s see…if
you can come at least one more time…”
 
“What the hell, where’s my horse?!”
 
Kanata doesn’t pause, though he does roll his eyes, amused. “Rei should’ve left
a note,” he idly notes as he plucks at one of Kaoru’s nipples. “‘Sorry, I stole
the demon bitch mare’…”
 
“That’s the Captain of—fuck—the guard,” Kaoru manages, belly rolling as he
bucks down on Kanata’s cock. “If he comes back in—in here, if he comes in here,
just, ah, pull a pillow over my head or something.”
 
“Mmnnn? But what if I want…to show you off…?” Kanata absently asks, grabbing
Kaoru’s arms to drag him down onto his cock harder, being a bit less nice this
time about how hard he fucks in. “He’s a half-blood, too, if that’s what you
like~…”
 
The real answer is that Izumi is a lot of what Kaoru likes, and he’s kind of
avoided the guy for exactly this reason. He tries to wriggle, but Kanata is
just as strong as he’s been saying, and his arms are held fast. He’s trapped in
place, beautifully stuck, held as a toy for Kanata to use and boss around and
fuck, and that makes his cock lurch back to life. “I like this right now,” he
manages, and bites down on his pillow.
 
Kanata just giggles, the sound muffled into Kaoru’s hair as he bends forward,
grabbing onto him tightly as he grinds in, his cock sinking in deep with each
thrust, the quiet slap of skin against skin coming faster and faster with each
ragged breath that escapes past Kanata’s lips.
 
The second time he comes is faster, more abrupt as he buries himself inside,
spilling slick and messy inside with every single pulse of his cock.
 
Kaoru’s muscles all give out at once, and he lays there and shudders, laying in
a puddle of his own mess, feeling Kanata so deep inside he’s aching, spilling
over and over. “Too much,” he finally whines, arms twitching, the gesture
futile against Kanata’s hold. “Give me—pull out, give me a second, I can’t
breathe…”
 
“Ooooi, Kaoru,” comes Izumi’s snap as he yanks open the front of the tent. “Did
you hear anyone leave in the middle of the night and take my—“
 
Kanata twists around abruptly, teeth bared as he snaps in Izumi’s direction,
sharp nails digging possessively into Kaoru as he holds him down. Izumi bolts
backwards, hands flying up defensively rather than going for his sword, knowing
very much how useless it is against someone like Kanata. “Sorry—sorry, I didn’t
realize, I’m not trying to take him, geez—Chiaki!” he hastily adds, bolting
away from the tent in short order. “Kanata’s being…that way!”
 
Kanata growls, flopping down and wrapping all four limbs around Kaoru.
 
“Let go of me,” Kaoru says very seriously, breath tight with pain. “Or the holy
magic is going to flare, and you’re going to get very, very hurt.”
 
It takes Kanata a moment to unwind himself and calm down, peeling himself away
as if untangling his tentacles from Kaoru in the process. “Sorry,” he mumbles,
slithering to the side. “I don’t like…being interrupted…are you okay…?”
 
Kaoru sucks in a deep breath, and only a trickle of white light flares out of
the nail holes in his skin, the flesh scabbing over in a heartbeat. Slowly, he
gets to his feet, rubbing at his shoulders with a wince. “It only does that if
it’s nonhuman-caused, nothing happens if it’s a blade or a human. Ooooi,
Captain! You need something from me? Don’t wake that maniac, get back here!”
 
Kanata watches, mystified, tempted to reach out and poke at the magic in spite
of how it will absolutely hurt. “That’s…really…really neat…” he says, eyes
narrowing. “But it healed where I bit you, too.”
 
Slowly, warily, the front of the tent opens up again, and Izumi’s head pokes
inside. “Your tent’s the closest to where the horses are kept,” he neutrally
says. “Did you hear anything?”
 
Kanata slowly lurches forward again, clamping his jaws down around Kaoru’s
shoulder.
 
“Oh my god. Call me back when you two are done, fuck.”
 
“The Demon King took it,” Kaoru says hastily, and bats Kanata away, or tries
to. Those teeth are sharp. “He does that sometimes, you know. Just takes off
with whatever shiny thing he likes best.”
 
A second later, Captain Morisawa skids up, shirtless, wide-eyed as he looks
around, eyes trying to adjust, heavy with sleep and littered with two-holed
bites all over his upper body. “Kanata? Is everything all right, is everyone
all right? Ah, Captain Izumi, can I have a sword, is someone in danger?”
 
Kanata releases Kaoru a moment later, once he’s satisfied there’s a mark left
behind, and beams up at Chiaki, making grabbing motions for him. “Chiaki~…good
morning…”
 
Izumi pauses, staring open-mouthed for a moment before he scowls, turning
sharply on his heel. “Am I the only one that’s not getting laid around here?”
he crossly snaps. “Damn it, that was my horse,Ritsu gave me that horse!”
 
“Demon law,” Kaoru says, grabbing his nightshirt and tugging it on. “Anything
once owned by a demon subject, once out of their hands, technically belongs to
the Demon King, if he chooses to exercise his rights.” He grins. “And I don’t
think Souma’s getting laid either, if that helps.”
 
“This isn’t the Shadowlands, this is the king’s domain! Demon law doesn’t apply
here—“
 
“Chiakiii, Kaoru and I are friends now,” Kanata hums, draping himself limply
against Chiaki. “No more fighting, just like you asked~…”
 
Chiaki beams so brightly the dark circles under his eyes nearly disappear.
“That’s wonderful news! Of course, anyone who meets you must be friends with
you, you’re such a good and giving person.”
 
Kaoru slings an arm around Izumi’s shoulders, steering him away. “I’ve got some
connections in these parts, actually, and one of them is great with horseflesh,
let me recommend you to one that’s a little less, um, murdery?”
 
“We’ve been building up a rapport,” Izumi moodily says, trying not to be
grossly distracted by how Kaoru smells of nothing but sex. “Bitch was a bitch,
but she was my bitch. No way in hell is someone going to find me a horse as
good as that one, she was straight from the Shadowlands and everything.” 
 
“Well, yeah, but I can probably find you one that’ll bite you less,” Kaoru
offers. “Unless you’re into that. Hey, uh, not to be weird, but are you
sniffing me?”
 
“…No. Why would I be doing that?”
 
“You just, you keep leaning in, and inhaling through your nose, so…”
 
“I’m not doing that. You’re the one with your arm around me. You’re the one
leaning in.”
 
“Aww, do you have a crush on me? You jealous of all the love bites, hmm?”
 
“Don’t be an idiot,” Izumi snaps, hastily ducking out from underneath Kaoru’s
arm, cheeks flushed. “I’m not jealous and I—you—ugh, forget it, I’m going to
figure out this stupid horse situation myself!”
 
Kaoru waves goodbye, and blows him a kiss. “Let me know if you see any cute
stablegirls! And try to get a date for the evening, horny and alone isn’t a
good look on anyone!”
***** Chapter 47 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Rei isn’t exactly hard to find.
 
Kaoru had been casual about it at first, sauntering down towards the Sandlands
with the rest of the motley party Rei had put together for a couple of days.
Then, in the middle of the night, sickly dark magic had flared, waking Kaoru in
a cold sweat. He’d been on his horse before he’d stopped sweating, knowing that
magical signature, urging the beast faster, because it must be a mistake, it
couldn’t be what it feels like, he must be wrong, too old and forgetful, he
must be wrong, he must be.
 
Rei isn’t hard to find, not when Kaoru wants to, and he pulls his horse to a
stop in front of a building that keen senses and long, long practice tell him
is a brothel of some kind. A coin flipped to a young boy waiting outside takes
care of his horse, and Kaoru straightens his clothes, knowing the kind of walk
he needs to look right at home in a house of pleasure. Looking for a friend
earns him a side-eye from the madam, who disappears upstairs, telling him to
wait on one of the elegant little poofs arranged in the common space. Kaoru
takes a poof, and tries to calm his thudding heart.
 
It must be a mistake. It must be. Rei would never.
 
It only takes a few minutes before Rei drifts his way downstairs, yawning
behind one hand. He looks the part of truly belonging within the Sandlands,
with his curling, black hair bound back at the nape of his neck, eyes lined in
kohl, and fluttery, airy robes donned instead of the heavy, velvet cloaks of
the Academy. “Ah, Kaoru,” he greets, a smile on his face. Casual is what he has
to be until he gets Kaoru into a locked room, of course. “You’re late. Come
upstairs with me, won’t you?”
 
Kaoru lets a sweet, insouciant, hungry smile spread across his face. Perfect in
front of the help. “Love to, sweetheart.”
 
The second they’re upstairs, the cheerful, horny demeanor evaporates, and
something like dread filters across his face. “Tell me I didn’t feel what I
thought I felt, Rei.”
 
Rei holds a finger up to his lips as he shuts the door firmly behind them, and
with the lock clicking, at least a dozen wards flare up about the room in quick
succession. The oil lamp next to the bed flutters, the flame’s movements
highlighting the otherwise hidden protection runes traced out along the walls.
“I wonder what you thought you felt,” he says once heavy silence fills the
room. “I’ve been busy.”
 
Kaoru brushes a fingertip on one of the runes, feeling it flare up to his
touch. “Don’t play with me right now,” he says quietly. “I rode like hell to
get here, and you’re making that more accurate than I want. Tell me I didn’t
just feel you thrall someone.”
 
Rei goes silent as he drops down onto the end of his bed. “I didn’t have a
choice,” he settles upon, lacing his fingers together in his lap. “I really
didn’t.”
 
Kaoru’s face goes tight, and he very carefully avoids reaching for the hilt of
his sword, every instinct in his soul urging him to strike, to cut down the
evil menace, to drive away the very evil his line was created to protect.
“There’s no situation where that’s the best choice, let alone the only choice.
Undo it.”
 
“He’ll die,” Rei insists, looking up frantically. “Kaoru—he was going crazy.
I’ve never, ever thralled anyone in my entire life, but I didn’t have a choice
here, I swear. His bond, it was broken, but that disgusting archdemon was
trying to use the shreds of it to claw himself back to this realm—you know they
don’t die, not like humans do, and if they come back, they’re even stronger
than before. I’m protecting him.”
 
“Kill him.” Kaoru folds his arms, his expression brooking no argument. “We
cannot have an enthralled king, Rei, you know this! You—I’ve trusted you, I’ve
trusted you for so long, I’d have said you’d never do something like this—hell,
I did tell my family you’d never, ever, in a hundred thousand years, thrall
someone!”
 
“If I kill him, we have no king.”
 
Rei sighs, flopping onto his back and throwing an arm over his face. “I can’t
do that. Kaoru, I can’t. He didn’t ask for that bond; he didn’t ask for it to
ruin his life. Like this, he can be normal.”
 
“We can crown another king.” Kaoru’s eyes burn with intensity, staring at Rei
no matter how the other man tries to avoid his eyes. “Your soul is tainted by
this. We can’t have an enthralled king, we’d be better off in anarchy.”
 
“Do you really think I’m going to use it?” Rei snaps. “What would I ever even
want from him that I don’t have, or can’t bring about myself? I’m protecting
him.”
 
“‘And Lo, the most dangerous of all the fey creatures, dwelling between shadow
and air,’” Kaoru quotes, his stomach turning, “‘are those that see themselves
in fairest guise, for their powers of persuasion are the greatest under the
sky.’ Rei, that’s literally the first line of the chapter on demons, you know
this, if you fool yourself into think you can control something this dangerous,
it’ll control you!”
 
“So bind me.” Rei’s retort is a sullen one. “Or…whatever it is a holy knight
does. I can’t believe you think I’m like something out of your scripture. I’m
half-human, you know. My mate is human. I’m already going to get an earful from
him, he’s not going to let me do a damned thing even if I wanted to—which I
don’t.”
 
“The fact that you don’t think there’s anything wrong with this…” Kaoru wipes
his hands down his face. “I don’t know what to do about this, Rei. This is
literally the most evil act a demon can perform, my entire order was created to
stop this from happening!”
 
“…How is it evil when I was genuinely doing it to help him?” Rei exasperatedly
asks, rolling onto his side. “Kaoru—you should have seen him. He was so
pathetic, I couldn’t just…stand there. We’ve tried everything else.”
 
“He should have died. You know that.” Kaoru folds his arms over his chest,
looking tired. “I’m really hating that you’re putting me in this kind of
position. I hate having to agree with my gross family.”
 
“So don’t agree with them.” Rei hesitates, then reaches out a hand towards him.
“Kaoru. You know me.”
 
Kaoru grits his teeth, and for the first time in over a hundred years,
hesitates before taking Rei’s hand. The beautiful demon, seductive to the weak-
willed, touches emotions first, body next, mind last, for the mind of a paladin
must be more pure even than the soul.
 
No. No, Rei can’t be one of those, despite how long a con it would have been.
He sighs, and takes Rei’s hand, squeezing it. “Don’t ask me to watch something
like this happen. Kill the king. You know deep down it’s the right thing to
do.”
 
“No. He’s a good person, I was just trying to save him.” Rei twines his fingers
with Kaoru’s, squeezing his hand, tugging him closer. “But I’ll make you a
deal. If for some reason I am tempted to use that thrall…then I’ll kill him.”
 
Kaoru sucks in a breath, then nods, letting his eyes close. “Just know. If you
do anything with it, and you don’t make good on that? I’ll have to…intervene.
Rei, don’t make me do that.”
 
“You’ve known me for over a century, and you really think I’d do that,” Rei
mutters, pulling Kaoru’s hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of
it. “If there’s something that will make you feel better about this, I’ll do
it. Outside of killing him, obviously.”
 
“Of course I don’t think you’d do that,” Kaoru says with a sigh, flopping down
onto the bed on his side. “But I would never in a century have thought you’d
thrall anyone, so…”
 
“It was the only thing I could do.” Rei slides up closer, plastering himself up
against Kaoru. “This is how you greet me—scolding me, and smelling like
Kanata.”
 
“Don’t try to distract me right now, and no, I don’t know of any way to make me
comfortable, you—you thralled him,” Kaoru repeats again, sounding more
flabbergasted than upset now. “You really thought this was the best thing?
Convince me.”
 
Rei huffs out a breath, sliding both arms around Kaoru’s neck as he refuses to
be pushed away. “Archdemons—you must know quite a bit about them, right, O Wise
Holy Knight?”
 
Kaoru nods slowly. “I don’t feel like quoting more scripture, but yeah, I know
about them. Mostly dark fairy tales, and warnings that we shouldn’t try to face
them without the full Order Circle convened.”
 
“Eichi was one.” Rei’s mouth twists. “Obviously, you know that now. But you
know how hard of a time I had dealing with him when he was right in front of
me, even with our magic directly opposing each other’s—in death, Archdemons
just return to the depths of the Shadowlands, but he left elaborate spellwork
behind on our king. Letting that fester was driving him mad, especially
combined with the remains of their resonant bond. I had to remove all of it—I
had to dampen it, somehow, and nothing else would work. He asked for it. I gave
him options, temporary ones, but this is what he asked for.”
 
“Did he know what it meant?” Kaoru’s voice is soft, pained. “Did he know that
he was asking you to perform the darkest magic possible, and that any holy
paladin would be compelled to kill either of you on site?”
 
“I don’t think he cared—or would care now, Kaoru.” Rei heaves a sigh, running a
finger down Kaoru’s chest. “He just wants to feel right again. If my magic can
do that and give him a semblance of a normal existence again, then fine. I’m
not sorry.”
 
“Even knowing?” Kaoru asks, catching that finger and kissing it. “Even knowing
it could corrupt not just his soul beyond saving, but yours? And turn you into
one of those monsters you’ve been fighting forever? And that—that you’ll be
tempted, you know you will, he’s the king, what’s going to happen when he tries
to cut the Academy’s budget and you could easily just nudge him the other way?”
 
“I’m in the bed of a dozen rich men. It’s not hard to get more money if I’m
that hard up, but I’m not.” Rei’s lips purse, and he pokes at the end of
Kaoru’s nose. “Kaoru. You sound like a preacher.”
 
“If you think that, you have not been forced to sit through as many sermons as
I have,” Kaoru protests. “I’m a concerned friend, an educated one. That’s not
the same thing, and you know it.”
 
“But you’re refusing to listen to me at all. Because at the end of the day, you
think that I’m inherently evil.”
 
Kaoru finally cracks a smile at that. “You really should pay attention to the
scripture. It says we’re both inherently evil, everyone but the gods. If—if
you’d only told me, you know, yes, I did the worst possible thing, but here’s
what I’m doing to keep us all safe, then I’d feel better, but you keep saying
there’s nothing to worry about, and that’s what’s worse!”
 
“Helping him isn’t the worst possible thing!” Rei huffs in frustration,
frowning at him. “I immediately offered to let you bind me. I told you my mate
would be informed, and can help keep me in check—Kaoru, I know it wasn’t good.
Why do you think I waited so long to try it?”
 
“I don’t know that you did! I only know that I woke up feeling that—that nasty
magic.” Kaoru shudders, remembering the feel of it, like sticky oil cloying its
way through his nose, out through his eyes, clinging to him even as it tries to
melt his soul. “Nothing feels as bad as that. I can’t even imagine how awful it
would feel to cast, and to believe in its casting.”
 
“No. You can’t.”
 
Rei’s voice is quiet, and he shifts, turning in Kaoru’s arms to offer up his
back. “If you aren’t interested in trusting me, fine.”
 
“Don’t be like that. Don’t put this on me, you know you’re not doing anything
right here! I didn’t immediately go for my sword, that’s obviously me trusting
you more than any other paladin ever would!”
 
A soft sniffle follows, then a little muffled sob. “I-if you really t-trusted
me—you’d know—I’d only e-ever do this to h..help someone, you
stupid—mean—priest—“
 
Kaoru sighs, and yanks Rei back against him, nuzzling into his hair. “You’ve
really been putting me through my paces the last few days, you bastard demon,”
he murmurs, kissing the curve of one ear. “First you drag me out of my safe
little house, then you ditch me with a Wavebred, now you dump this on me? I’m
kind of…overwhelmed.”
 
“You fucked the Wavebred, h-how angry could you have been about that?” Rei
demands wetly, slapping half-heartedly at Kaoru’s arms and otherwise making no
attempt to get away. “I’m trying to s-save lots of little children and make
this country safe, damn it.”
 
“You’re deflecting,” Kaoru grumbles, holding Rei more tightly whenever he
struggles. “Why would I be mad at you for saving the little children, you ass?
I was worried about you, you tell me you’re going into danger and need muscle,
then ditch me before getting to the worst of it, of course I’m worried. And,
um, we’re not talking about me and Kanata.”
 
“I could smell him. Eichi.” Rei’s voice is still wet, but he stills, save for
the occasional, unhappy shiver. “If I had told everyone, they would’ve
panicked. If I had told you…you would’ve wanted the king dead, no questions
asked. I didn’t even know it was through Leo until I ran into him at an
auction, entirely unplanned, I just thought Eichi was here again somehow…and
I…” He exhales, breath trembling. “I had to fix it, before I fixed the rest of
this. I had everything planned out, but not this.”
 
Kaoru is quiet for a moment, and nuzzles down into Rei’s hair, breathing deeply
for a moment. “You know what sucks?” he asks quietly. “You don’t like him very
much. And you definitely have a plan for him. You’d never do this to some
random person who was bonded to an archdemon.”
 
“No.” Rei’s head shakes slowly, and a ragged, tired laugh escapes his lips.
“That’s not…that’s not true. It’s not that I dislike him, or that I have a plan
for him—I mean, certainly, I need him to be on my side, but I need that of
anyone in power, I…” He shrugs, huddling back against Kaoru’s chest. “I owe
him,” he quietly says. “Leo doesn’t know that, but I do. Years ago, I snapped
his consort’s bond to another wizard because its existence would’ve led Eichi
straight to our stronghold—to where Shu was. It nearly killed him.”
 
“These bonds are nothing but trouble,” Kaoru complains. “I’ve been reading up
on them in Grandfather’s old tomes, which, by the way, are awfully boring.
There are like, two examples of them doing something good in the world, like,
ever. All the others are just…bad. I mean, they’re really biased books, because
they think that wizards are an aberration, but you know.”
 
“Stop reading that crap, just ask me questions about wizards,” Rei mumbles,
twisting in Kaoru’s arms to finally face him, and stuff his face down into his
chest. “But you’re right. They’re nothing but trouble, bonds. At least I don’t
have Shu forced to listen in on all of this right now, though…”
 
“Listen in, ugh, like that’s something that could be helpful or fun?” Kaoru
complains, petting Rei aggressively now. “There are some ways the books said I
might be able to break them, actually. Apparently they’re dangerous, but have
some success in history. Want me to try?”
 
“No!” Rei’s fingers clutch at the front of Kaoru’s shirt, and he shivers with
the thought. “No. I…no. The telepathy…is good, most of the time, I’m just glad
it’s not an open pathway right now.”
 
“So you do like it. Hard to tell, sometimes. You act like you don’t even like
him.”
 
“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” Rei bemoans, shoving his face down
into Kaoru’s chest and staying there. “You’re right—I’m an idiot, I did
something really stupid, but it wasn’t with anything evil in mind. All it ended
up doing was draining me and now I have a headache and everything…is so loud.”
 
“Rei…” Kaoru winces, and looks away. “You can’t feed from me right now. I can
still feel it on you, I don’t think I could get hard if you sucked me for a
year. Do some pretty, fancy magic for a while and get back to me.”
 
“I didn’t ask you,” is Rei’s low, sullen retort. “I’m not that inconsiderate.
And you smell like Kanata.”
 
“Oh, you’re really gonna hassle me about that? You wanted us to get along,
right?”
 
“I’ll hassle you about whatever I want. You made such a big deal about him, and
the moment I leave…”
 
Kaoru scoffs. “Like you didn’t plan that? Or at least hope for it? I know your
style.”
 
“I wanted to be there, at least.” Rei heaves a sigh, and slowly worms himself
away, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and scrubbing a hand over his
face as he walks to the window. He yanks it open, letting the night’s cool,
desert air in, and subsequently setting off every single ward in the room,
making them all flash to life in sequence around the walls. “After it does that
a few times, you should feel better,” he gloomily says, leaning halfway out the
window. “I was in the process of cleansing everything, believe it or not. I
just…got distracted.”
 
“Oh, yeah?” Kaoru asks, amused, rolling onto his side, propping up his head on
his hand, elbow braced against the bed. “What was his name? Or their names, I
should ask, because if you were that hungry…”
 
“Two Enhanced from the Academy. I didn’t get to feed, I was setting them up in
their inevitable romantic rendezvous.” Rei throws a hand up as he settles onto
the windowsill. “They’ve been working hard for me down here. It was the least I
could do.”
 
Kaoru’s mouth drops open, and then he starts to laugh, shoulders shaking
silently. “You…is this some kind of, what, some kind of penance? You felt the
black stain spreading on your soul, so you made two children fall in love?
That’s…gods. That’s why I love you, you’re so cute.”
 
“Well, one’s a bit older, but I suppose they’re both children compared to me…”
Rei sighs, shrugging helplessly. “You know I don’t really believe in that
‘black stain on my soul’ mess, Kaoru. Some people are evil. Some people aren’t.
Also, I didn’t make them fall in love, they already were.”
 
“Come back to bed. And then we can talk about how silly you are for teasing me
about having sex with Kanata when I know full well who he smelled like when we
got started.”
 
Rei’s lips purse, and he slowly, reluctantly pries himself away from the
window. “Are you going to keep telling me that you’ll never, ever be turned on
by me ever again?”
 
Kaoru rolls his eyes. “I told you, just do some good magic for a while, seek
out beauty, cuddle with me, hug a few puppies, and I’ll be back before you know
it. It’s an instinctive reaction, it’s nothing I can control.”
 
Rei hisses out a breath through his teeth, and fastens himself to the window
again. “I’m going to want to chew on you right now,” he mutters. “I’m too
hungry. Especially because you smell like Kanata, and I can see his bites.”
 
“You can chew,” Kaoru says with a sigh, tugging at the laces on the front of
his shirt, easing it down over one shoulder. “But we shouldn’t fuck. It’ll feel
wrong to me, you won’t be able to feed on it, I bet.”
 
“…You’re not wrong about that.” Rei’s eyes flick over to that flash of skin,
glittering red slits in the dim light. “It might still make you hard. I mean, I
suppose we’re in a brothel…”
 
“So call for a boy,” Kaoru offers. “Some pretty little thing, far too young,
with plump lips, doesn’t that sound nice? He can take care of you when you get
excited, and you can drink from me as much as you like.”
 
“Boring—except for the drinking from you part.” Slowly, Rei climbs to his feet,
meandering back to the bed. “Just slap me if I get too riled up.”
 
“I’m good at that,” Kaoru says cheerfully, knowing that an exposed shoulder to
Rei is as good as a shank of raw beef to a mountain cat. “Come here, drink
before you start to die. But be nice, Kanata’s got more sharp teeth than you
do.”
 
“They’re serrated,” Rei supplies, dropping down next to Kaoru. Gingerly, he
reaches out, tracing one of the still-prominent bites marking Kaoru’s skin with
one long finger. “Mean fish teeth. If this area’s sore, I can nibble on your
thigh.”
 
Kaoru thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “Might need to sit on a horse
tomorrow, and I know it makes you sick when I heal. Inside of my arm, if you
don’t want my neck?”
 
Rei heaves a sigh. “I want your neck, but I don’t want to hurt you,” he
grumbles, examining the other side to see if it’s any less chewed-upon, which
does not seem to be the case. “You should’ve made friends with Sena.”
 
“I can take it, don’t worry,” Kaoru grouses, leaning his head to one side. “If
it hurts too bad, I’ll just go outside and heal it up, but it’s fine, chow
down.”
 
“I’ll be gentle.” Rei presses a kiss to that soft skin, selecting a spot that’s
as minimally bitten as possible before his tongue drags over it, priming it.
Then he bites, careful and deliberate, his arms reflexively wrapping around
Kaoru to pull him closer when the first swallow of that bright, clean blood
washes over his tongue.
 
After the odd, melting sensation of being bitten by Kanata, the familiar red-
hot scintillating pleasure of Rei’s bite feels like sinking into a hot bath.
Kaoru shudders, hands coming up to thread through Rei’s hair. “I forgive you,
all right? So take what you need, I’ll trust you. Like I always have.”
 
The usage of magic—any magic, that’s the idea—makes the runes on the walls
spark and glitter, glowing faintly in the room’s low light. Rei shivers in
turn, drinking deeply, each swallow returning some of the warmth to his limbs,
taking away the tremors away when he aches down to his toes.
 
When he lets go, it’s with a last long, needy suck, leaving a hickey of his own
above the tell-tale twin fang marks. “I’m sorry,” Rei whispers, tongue dragging
over the mark again as his arms tighten around Kaoru’s waist. “I wasn’t trying
to hurt you…or anyone. Ah, gods, you taste so good…”
 
Kaoru turns to him, then flops down on the bed, the ceiling shifting in swirly
patterns. “Whoops…too much, I’m too tired. Cuddle me, I’m fainty.”
 
“You should let me get you some dates or some of that sweet tea you like,” Rei
murmurs, dragging Kaoru up onto his chest as he settles back onto the pile of
pillows, stroking a hand through Kaoru’s hair. Feeding through blood isn’t
ideal, but it certainly takes the edge off. “You know no matter what happens…I
won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
 
“Dumb thing to promise,” Kaoru sighs, curling up on Rei’s chest. “I can take
care of myself, let’s just…try to save some cute little kids together. Any
progress on that?”
 
“Mm. Quite a bit.” Rei’s eyes lid, his fingers threading through Kaoru’s hair,
slowly petting him. “My sources tell me we’ve recovered the noble girl that was
kidnapped…and we have eyes on the heads of the organization. Within the next
two days—that’s when I want to close in and kill them.” He hesitates, then
sighs. “Or that was the plan, until this mess with the king happened. Now I’m
not sure if I can collect enough power, unless I can manage to snag a quick
meeting with my mate.”
 
“You’re in a brothel,” Kaoru points out, eyes fluttering closed, feeling all
sorts of sleepy now that the elation is wearing off. “And you have all the
money you’d ever need, why not just line them up and have one after the other,
or all at once if that suits better? You’ve done it before.”
 
“…Because I’m getting old,” Rei huffs, running his nails against Kaoru’s scalp.
“And…I’m pickier, these days. With higher standards. I need people that
actually have some kind of magical output, or it feels like I’m eating cheap
candy.”
 
Kaoru huffs. “So I must be, what, a dry biscuit at best? I’ve never been very
magically inclined, even among my people.”
 
“No, you’re delicious. Holy energy…it converts into something sort of spicy.”
 
“Oooh, I’m spicy? I kind of like that, was I spicy before?”
 
“With a hint of citrus.” Rei exhales a long breath, shutting his eyes. “Did you
ever make it to the palace down here? I can’t remember.”
 
Kaoru thinks for a moment, arching happily against Rei’s body. “What does it
look like? I honestly can’t remember, if I did it was a long time ago.”
 
“Mm…big white walls. Huge, open windows, rooms that lead out to tiled
gardens…incense everywhere, with half of it being opium…” Rei grins, dragging
his fingertips down Kaoru’s back. “Do you want to go? I wouldn’t mind touching
base with my men before starting this final push, and we can see the sights
while we’re at it.”
 
Kaoru shrugs. “Sounds like fun, I’m always in for seeing palaces. They got hot
princesses? I’m really into those, as you well know. Do they wear the skimpy
little veils? With the bells on?”
 
“The royal family is full of terrible women and one very good son, so don’t
waste your time chasing princesses,” Rei warns, reaching down to give Kaoru’s
ass a gentle pinch. “You’re thinking of whores. They wear skimpy little veils
and noisy jewelry, if they’re fancy enough.”
 
“Ahhh, I always get those confused. Treat your whores like princesses and your
pockets will always jingle, that’s what my uncle used to say.”
 
“Is that what he used to say…not ‘purge all demons from this place, so mote it
be?’ Or whatever it is holy knights chat about. Anyway,” Rei briskly
transitions. “I want to go supervise the hand-off of the children they snatched
up at the auction, and also, make sure one of my wizards gets taken back to the
Academy safely. Well…at least one of them.”
 
“Right, right, that all sounds good,” Kaoru says plaintively, touching Rei’s
hand with gentle fingertips. “But we get to visit some whores, right? Don’t
forget, I’m a horrible, fallen, perverted excuse of a holy knight.”
 
“Kaoru, I own three brothels. What kind of whores do you want?”
 
“Uh….I don’t care? Seriously, it’s more the idea of them than the actual….wait,
when did you own three brothels?”
 
“…Since I’ve been funneling kids out of here for years in my spare time and
given them a safe place to work in the meantime.”
 
Kaoru beams, and turns to kiss Rei on the cheek. “See, we’re a perfect pair.
I’m the raunchy holy knight, you’re the pure-hearted demon king. Kind of made
for each other.”
 
Rei groans, collapsing back and dragging Kaoru down for another, firm kiss. “I
want to eat you,” he bluntly says. “All of you. But I’m resisting out of
respect and love for you. Actually, I have a great idea. If you want to end up
in a pile of very high class whores…when we go to the palace, if you can
distract the royalty by letting them know that you have money, you’ll end up
having some fun. That’ll give me time to do my rounds and set up what I need.”
 
Kaoru beams, but the smile quickly slips off his face. “These aren’t the kind
of people that are going to try and marry me off to their eldest daughter, are
they? Because I’d really rather be eaten by you on a regular basis. It’s funny
if they’re all a-twitter, but I’m a married man.”
 
“They’ll try, and I’ll rescue you after I’m done sneaking about.”
 
“I knew it! I knew you were going to sucker me into a marriage plot, I can
smell them!”
 
“I’m not! I swear I’m not! They’re going to let you fuck every whore you want
in that place and then try to offer you their daughters, and by the time they
get to that point, I’ll swoop back in and kidnap you off into the night. I
promise.”
 
“And Shu?” Kaoru asks quietly, that old anxiety back in his belly. “Is he
coming into the night with you as well?”
 
“Nope. I’m going to slurp on him, and send him back to the Academy, where it’s
safe.”
 
“And does he know what you’ll be doing after that?”
 
“I’m going to brief him. He has his own concerns that aren’t just me, you
know.”
 
Kaoru huffs. “Be nice, it’s been a century since I was the Other Man, you know.
But before you, I used to get caught in closets or under beds all the time.
Gods, I was so dumb back then. Kinda thought it was funny, you know? Now I
just…can’t stop thinking about who’s going to get hurt.”
 
“I’m being nice. Ahh…all right, all right, enough of this.” Rei rolls Kaoru
onto his back, and braces above him with his hands to either side of his head.
“What do you want to know? I’m an open book. I’ll tell you everything you want
to know so that you stop feeling like you’re the Other Man.”
 
Kaoru sighs, blinking up at Rei, arms slowly twining around his neck. “Me
knowing things isn’t the point, Rei. It’s him knowing. Because if you ever have
to choose between us…well, you made that choice once already. I don’t know how
many times I can take that.”
 
“…I’m going to tell him.” Rei’s eyes lid, and he leans down, pressing a slow
kiss to Kaoru’s mouth. “You know, he’s already given me an ultimatum,” he very
seriously says, “about another man.”
 
Kaoru blinks. “What? About who? What ultimatum?”
 
“Remember the Sandlands whore turned wizard I told you he kept as a pet?” Rei’s
eyebrows raise. “He told me, without mincing words, that they come as a set. No
exceptions. They refuse to be separated, and when they are apart for more than
a day, they’re an absolute misery.”
 
Kaoru slowly trails his nails down Rei’s back, then up again, only to drop them
down to the bed when a little tendril of nasty black magic lashes out, trying
to ensnare his wrist. “So you’re saying there’s precedent?”
 
Rei reaches out, physically slapping the magic down. It dissipates, crumbling
into flower petals. “Yes. I am. If you keep making me happy, then I’m going to
insist upon keeping you.”
 
“Oh, so now I’ve got a task.” Kaoru touches one of the flower petals, a smile
ghosting onto his face. “The more flowers you make, the faster I’ll tackle you
down and show you just how happy I can make you.”
 
“Don’t tell me that. I’ll use what magic I’ve got left to turn this place into
the garden of your dreams.”
 
“The garden of my dreams has sexy flowers. Can you make sexy flowers?”
 
“…Orchids are sexy, I think?”
 
“Not like that, Rei, I knew you were too close to this…”
 
“Eh? But you said you wanted sexy flowers. Roses, then? No, those will just
make me think of Wataru, that’s sort of scarring…”
 
“I kinda meant, you know, like flowers that look like girls, maybe have big
tits…”
 
Rei blinks down at him. “Why? You can have my tits whenever you want.”
 
Kaoru shrugs, not embarrassed in the slightest. “More things with tits is
definitely better than less.”
 
“I’m divorcing you.”
 
“Hey! You asked what the sexiest flowers would be! The answer was obvious!”
 
“No, if you want flowers that represent sex—coriander, actually, is a very
blunt way of expressing lust, and so are orange roses, but as I mentioned,
those are out…” Rei smiles, batting his eyelashes down at him. “Flowers that
look like girls are a little much for me, I’m afraid, so you’re going to have
to be satisfied with flower language, like a proper gentleman.”
 
Kaoru steals a kiss, then another, then another, until the pulsing blackness
threatens his lips, and he subsides, feeling cranky. “Whatever flowers you
make, make them fast, I can’t take much more of being unable to touch you.”
 
Rei groans, forcing himself to sit back before he can’t stop himself from
pressing Kaoru down and kissing him hard. “I’m—going to turn this room into a
rainforest,” he threatens, raking a hand back through his hair. “Just to purge
that shit, and then fuck you into the bed.”
 
Kaoru’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “I’m not stopping you. Let it grow, baby,
I wanna rest my head on your tits tonight, if I can.”
 
“…You’re going to need to do the work,” Rei quietly warns him. “If I use my
magic for that…I’ll be on empty again.”
 
“Do you think you can purge it all, if you do?” Kaoru asks, sitting up with his
back against the wall. “If you drain it all, and there’s still a bit of the
nastiness left…I won’t be able to do anything.”
 
Rei chews on his lower lip, contemplating. “I’m not sure. Ah, maybe I should
just wait until I can feed on Shu…then it’ll be gone for sure, and we can
really play all we want…”
 
A knock comes at the door, and Rei bolts back as the door cracks open, all of
the wards and runes sparkling underneath the movement. “Excellency?” Mao softly
calls out, eyebrows raising at the field of magic that doesn’t quite let him
enter. “You’ve been in here for awhile, I wanted to—“
 
“Mao, come here.”
 
Mao heaves a sigh, passing through the wards effortlessly once granted
permission. “I don’t think you’ve met Kaoru,” Rei says, leaning away to take
Mao’s grumpily offered wrist. “Kaoru, this is Mao, a level three Enhanced…who
is going to solve all of my problems for the moment.”
 
Rei bites, and Mao winces, though he holds fast in spite of the sting of sharp
teeth. “Hi,” he greets with a little laugh, fluttering his other hand. “Nice
to…ah…meet you…I’ve heard about you, I think?”
 
“You must be one of the lovebirds,” Kaoru says cheerfully, leaning back against
the wall. “That’s quite a mark of respect, for Rei to feed on someone from the
wrist instead of insisting on somewhere interesting. Don’t pretend, kid, you’ve
never heard of me.”
 
Mao’s smile twitches faintly. “I’ve been bitten plenty other places, sir,” he
politely says, “before recently. I’ve also heard of everyone that His
Excellency is involved with if it’s necessary to know. Ah—that does—sting,
Excellency—“
 
The wards spark unexpectedly, and Rei releases Mao’s wrist with a wet, noisy
exhale, panting shallowly as Mao jerks his arm back, grimacing. Reflex makes
him cast a ward of his own, drawing the runes in the air to reflexively catch
up and collect the obvious off-cast of unwanted, clinging magic. “Do you need
Keito, too?” he asks, entirely unfazed as he binds up the magic into a neat
little blob in his hands. “He’s up because he’s had too much Sandlands tea.”
 
“Let me think on that,” Rei murmurs, wiping his mouth with the back of his
hand. “I raised this one,” he adds to Kaoru. “Isn’t he a good boy?”
 
Kaoru has long ago resigned himself to letting go of any stupid rules about not
having sex with anyone that they’d personally raised. After so long with the
Oogami clan, it had been a necessity to forget about that. “He seems real good.
All right, boy, you seem like you like to be a quick study. Prove it, if you
want, and I’ll be impressed. Who am I, who’s my family, what’s my connection to
Rei? I’ll reward you for correct answers.”
 
“Lord Kaoru of High Harbor—or more correctly, of the Hakaze Clan of Paladins of
the White Holy Order,” Mao recites without even glancing to Kaoru again, far
more interested in compressing the captured magic down to nothing, no matter
how it struggles against his hold. “Father, mother, older brother, older
sister, no children. Officially, you’re Lady Reina’s husband.”
 
Kaoru’s eyes light up, and he leans in, looking between Mao and Rei. “Oh, he’s
very good, isn’t he? Not as respectful as your old cleverboys, but the world is
a bit different now, isn’t it? How is he at procuring wine, eh?”
 
“He’s the best I’ve got,” Rei softly says, watching the magic finally convert
to nothing underneath Mao’s weaving, dropping down to the floorboards as a
writhing sprout instead of a dark cloud. “Though wine is a bit difficult in the
Sandlands.”
 
“…I’ll see what I can do,” Mao sighs, rubbing at his wrist as he drifts back
towards the door. “Should I send Keito, Excellency?”
 
“Kaoru?” Rei glances back to him, eyebrows raised. “Am I still unpleasant?”
 
“Kiss me, and I’ll see,” Kaoru offers, leaping off the bed to grab Rei around
the waist, tugging him back to meet his mouth. He delves his tongue into Rei’s
mouth, dragging hands up and down Rei’s back, letting Rei’s magic wash over
him. It’s a sweet, cloying taste, and he leans into it, eager, until one last
tendril lashes out at him, and he jumps back, cursing as white light flares
from him. He tries to block it, knowing how it’s poison to Rei, and curses,
hands pressed over his eyes. “Almost,” he grunts. “You—it didn’t get you, did
it? It’s just a reaction, you know I can’t control it, it’s really strong right
now—“
 
“Bring Keito,” Rei grumpily says, obviously not pleased about having to disturb
him. He plucks at a crispy strand of hair, burnt at the end courtesy of Kaoru’s
delightful defense mechanism. “Or if he’d rather, I can come to him. Either
way, bring wine.”
 
Mao sighs, offers a bow of his head, and steps back towards the door. “Wouldn’t
it be easier, Excellency, if you arranged a proper meet-up between you and—“
 
“I’d like a head start, thank you.”
 
Another sigh, and Mao escapes for the time being, leaving Rei to offer Kaoru up
a beaming smile. “Isn’t he cute? He’s my brother’s mate, that’s why he’s so
tolerant, I think.”
 
“Is every damned wizard bonded to a mate these days?” Kaoru grouses. “Maybe my
family is right, and wizards are just weird mutations. What’s the natural point
of it, if you’re sterile?”
 
“The real answer?”
 
Rei leans back, shaking out his hair. “At least, the probably real answer—it
makes us stronger. That’s not always the case, but…in many wizards, you gain
abilities. It’s only natural that it happens, even if it’s uncommon. And no, to
answer your question,” he dryly adds, “not every single wizard is bonded. Just
a number of strong ones. I just happen to know the strong ones.”
 
Kaoru snorts. “Like you need any more abilities. So, it exists to make the
strong stronger? I still think it sounds—“
 
A perfunctory knock at the door announces Keito, who bows curtly to Kaoru
before walking directly to Rei, looking rather ragged around the edges, but in
good spirits. “Neck or thigh?” he asks without preamble. “I thought you were
well-fed, or I’d have offered earlier.”
 
“Can I drink from between your toes?” Rei asks with a smile, batting his
eyelashes. “I’m afraid I misled you earlier. Leo took far more than he gave.
That’s a joke about the toes, by the way, your neck is fine. Oh, Kaoru, this is
Keito. Keito, Kaoru.”
 
“Mao told me,” Keito assures Rei, and tugs the borrowed nightclothes to the
side, exposing the long, pale column of his neck. “It’s a pleasure, Lord
Hakaze.”
 
“Please, Lord Hakaze is all of my terrible male relatives, call me
Disappointment.”
 
“Don’t listen to him, he’s just being modest,” Rei says, tugging Keito closer
with a pale hand closed about his wrist. “Call him Dishonorable
Disappointment.” With that, he lurches off the bed to fasten his mouth to
Keito’s neck, the motion far less businesslike than with Mao, and far more
intimate when his teeth sink in, taking a long, deep drink.
 
Kaoru’s eyes sharpen, watching with pleasure as Keito gasps, hands clinging at
Rei, his back arching, biting his own lip as Rei drinks deeply. “You two were
lovers for a long time, weren’t you?” he asks fondly, twirling a strand of his
own hair.
 
“Long enough,” Keito grinds out, eyelids fluttering. “You sure you wouldn’t
prefer to be in my place?”
 
“I’ll take my turn when you’re done. Enjoy it for now.”
 
Gradually, eventually, Rei pulls back, releasing Keito’s neck with a pleased,
sated sigh. His tongue drags over the twin pinpricks his fangs left behind, not
allowing a draw of blood to escape elsewhere. “It’s not like I wouldn’t mind
warming up with you, Keito,” he hums, flopping back down to the edge of the
bed. “But you look a little…mm, worn out?”
 
“There was exactly one bottle of wine that I could find within this block’s
radius, Excellency,” Mao interrupts, propping open the door with his foot and
setting the wine down inside. “Of all the things for the Sandlands to have laws
about the sale of…ah, sir, um, Keito, you look a little pale.”
 
“Remind me to demand a real vacation after this is all over,” Keito says, voice
a little thready as he fumbles for Mao’s shoulder to steady himself. “I think
I’ve more than earned it. Rei, you look quite sated, we’ll take our leave.”
 
Kaoru plucks the wine from the table as the two men filter out of the room,
looking critically at the label. “They seem like good kids. I mean, one of
them’s a bit old to be a kid, but definitely the sort of bright, loyal types
that you’ve always favored.”
 
The door clicks shut, and Rei collapses backward onto the bed, shutting his
eyes as his magic processes and digests. “They’re even older than they look,
both of them…Enhanced humans usually are. Nnn, they taste so good I could
die…Mao’s specially cultivated, and Keito’s just…” He shivers, running his
tongue over his lower lip, seeking out any drops of blood he might have missed.
“Maybe I took too much. Oh well.”
 
“Come to me now.” Kaoru extends a hand, beckoning slowly. “You’re clean now, I
can feel it. Let me charge you up, this is a dangerous place, and even properly
cultivated Enhanced can’t feed you like I can.”
 
Rei takes Kaoru’s hand, immediately crawling closer to him. His form shifts as
he does, seamlessly shifting to the familiar form of a woman that Kaoru knows
well, and this time, to match the illusion, the clothes change with him to
something far more…see-through. “I won’t be completely clean until you take
care of me. Be sweet to me, Kaoru.”
 
“You changed your clothes instead of just banishing them?” Kaoru asks, amused
as he presses Rei down into the bed, fastening his mouth to one sheer-clad
nipple, sucking cloth and flesh into his mouth all at once, feeling it rise
against the see-through fabric. “Maybe I should make love to you over them,
then.”
 
“You said you wanted a fancy whore,” Rei breathes as he flops back, biting at
his lower lip as Kaoru’s mouth immediately makes him shudder. His toes curl and
his hands slide down Kaoru’s back, fingers curling against his spine. “So
I’m…ahh…providing. You don’t even have to pay for me.”
 
That drags a laugh out of Kaoru, and he drags his hands down Rei’s sides,
feeling the slender curve of his waist, squeezing his hips, guiding him where
he wants that beautiful body. “I pay for loving you every day, wife. What’s a
little more? Spread your legs, let me have a taste of you under those pretty
skirts.”
 
Rei obliges, exhaling a pleased little noise as he slithers flatter onto his
back, letting his thighs fall apart as he hikes up the gauzy fabric. “Is it
paying if I’m a delight?” he archly asks, drawing a leg back to run his foot
against Kaoru’s hip. “Maybe…I should show up at the palace like this. I’d fit
right in as a whore, I think.”
 
“Pierce your nipples so I can see them through your dress,” Kaoru suggests,
pressing kisses to the inside of one thigh. “I’ll buy you jewels for them, big
fancy ones that make everyone squirm with the desire to touch.” He lurches
forward, running his tongue up that sweet slit, already wet and ready for him.
 
“A-ahhh, fuck…” Rei doesn’t bother stifling his groan as his head falls back,
back arching with the first drag of Kaoru’s tongue. He whimpers, sliding a hand
down through Kaoru’s hair, twisting gold strands up between his fingers.
“You…really have the best tongue, what the heeelll…” Out of the corner of his
eye, the runes on the walls flare and spark anew with the magic that already
starts to run through them, and Rei trembles, the muscles in his thighs
twitching from overeagerness.
 
Kaoru quests out with his senses. He can’t use magic, not really, but there’s a
certain innate spiritual quality to a paladin that makes him more sensitive,
and able to follow spells that are already constructed, to sense things that
other humans, and even some other wizards, could not. There’s still a darkness
lurking around Rei, something separate even from his innate demonic self, that
makes Kaoru shiver deep down. Rei’s magic may have been cleansed, and the
darkness can’t reach Kaoru now, but it’s there nonetheless, silently
threatening, able to strike at any time.
 
 I’ll save him. No matter what I have to do, no matter what it does to me, I’ll
save him.
 
That resolve crystallizes in Kaoru’s mind, and he feels a sparkling white
determination, coursing through him as he laves at Rei with his tongue,
fingertips leaving dark spots as he presses Rei’s thighs down to the bed,
suckling and licking as he moans at the taste.
 
Every single lick makes Rei gasp and whine, his hips straining up when Kaoru’s
tongue leaves him shivering, twitching, clinging to Kaoru’s hair and then
giving up on that, too, to simply fist his hands into the bedsheets as his legs
start to shake. Rei feels himself dripping against Kaoru’s tongue, slicker by
the minute, and another swipe of that tongue, perfect and thorough, makes him
come with a squeak, not muffling the sound in time behind his hand as Rei ruts
down against Kaoru’s mouth.
 
Kaoru pulls back, face slick and shiny, grinning as he lays his head on one
creamy thigh. “I love you, Lady Hakaze.”
 
“Uh huh,” Rei dazedly offers up, flopping a hand down to pet Kaoru’s hair.
“Love you, too. Now fuck me into next week, so I can blow up the entire world
for you if I need to.”
 
“My lady’s wish is ever my command.”
***** Chapter 48 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
It may have been several years (over a dozen) since Kaoru has had to introduce
himself to a courtly function, but he’s also probably done it more often than
any other living human. The confidence is the most important thing, and
fortunately, Kaoru has that down. He ties his hair at the nape of his neck,
ignoring the fact that he’s wearing nothing but tattered leggings and a
dubiously clean shirt, belted around the waist in a hint to modesty. It doesn’t
matter what he wears. That becomes obvious when he strides up to the palace,
with Rei trailing a few steps behind him as his supposed “bodyguard,” looking
like a hulking, brutish version of his usual body. Servants scatter when they
see him, running to inform masters that someone Important has arrived.
 
No, not servants, Kaoru realizes with a low, tight anger. Slaves. There hadn’t
been nearly so many when he’d been to the Sandlands before, and only in certain
professions. These days, they seem to be everywhere, scurrying around and not
meeting anyone’s eyes. Yes, indeed, they would have to do something about that.
 
“Honored lord,” a higher-ranked servant says, bowing low as he hurries out of
the Palace’s front steps. “Please do this unworthy one the honor of announcing
you to the great court of the Sandlands.”
 
Still got it. Even looking like this, they can tell what I am—or at least, how
loud my purse jingles when I walk. Kaoru gives a nod, then gestures to Rei to
introduce him.
 
The entire place reeks of magic.
 
That’s not entirely true—only to someone like Rei does it reek, but it’s
distracting enough that Rei finds himself on edge the moment he steps onto
palace grounds. The particular kind of magic is what bothers him the most, and
makes it apparent why he needs to be here: it’s Mika, leaking slowly, the seals
holding him no longer doing the job they need to do.
 
The sooner this is wrapped up, the better.
 
“The honorable Lord Hakaze of High Harbor,” Rei announces, thumb absently
running over the sword at his hip. A useless accessory for him, but necessary
for appearances, nonetheless. “Recently widowed, and vacationing in the south.”
 
Oh, so you really do need a distraction. You owe me, bastard.Kaoru’s smile
doesn’t alter, though it would be so, so easy to let it turn sour as he’s
announced, and all of the women start adjusting their clothing. He bows to the
court, striding down the halls, looking purposeful as he looks about. “I’ll
require quarters, nothing fancy, just comfortable enough to house myself and my
manservant here.” Doubtless, he’ll be given one of the nicest rooms in the
palace. Everyone knows the Hakaze name, in the highest circles.
 
“Of course, honored lord,” the servant hastily says, bowing again as he tries
to keep pace with Kaoru’s longer strides. “I’ll have a room prepared, so please
wait—“
 
“My lord will do no such thing,” Rei interrupts sharply in sand tongue, making
it apparent now that no one should attempt to lead them astray by talking
behind their backs. “He’ll have your finest room. Now.” Don’t be annoyed with
me. You can fuck all afternoon while I clean up this mess.
 
The servant only hesitates for a moment before bowing deeply and nodding again.
“Then—this way, honored lord, a room awaits you.”
 
Rei’s eyes are sharp as they follow, scanning the halls, and it’s with an
abrupt jolt that they fall upon an all-too familiar shock of pink hair. He
nearly trips, expression frozen for a moment before he shakes himself off, the
only thing in his ears now the sound of his own thudding heart.
 
The clang of the bell, surely, must be audible to everyone around for a hundred
miles. Shu is certain of it. Shu can hear it so loudly his head feels like it’s
vibrating, snapping the dampeners on his bond. No one else seems to blink,
except the hulking, muscular shell around what Shu feels intrinsically is his
bonded, so close, close enough to touch, Shu’s mind and soul resonating so
strongly the only thing he can compare it to is the first time he’d seen Rei,
the first time that bond had snapped into place.
 
Kaoru gives Rei a little frown when he stumbles, following his gaze to see a
tall, beautiful man, one that Kaoru has seen in dozens of scryings. Rei’s
stunned face is bad enough, but Shu’s is worse, closed-off and remote, but with
tears coursing down his face. Weird. Bonds are weird. “Come on,” he says under
his breath, tugging at Rei’s elbow. “Don’t stare at the servants, it’s rude.
Find a bride on your own time.”
 
 My lord. You’re here at last.
 
Shu’s voice, echoing around in his head, makes one thing readily apparent: if I
don’t get my hands on you right now, I’ll die.
 
Rei forces his expression back to something smoothed over, bored, no matter how
much effort it takes. He exhales, looking away, attention trained on the
servant in front of them instead. “Apologies, Milord.”
 
But the hunger won’t shut up now. Rei’s heart won’t stop pounding, his pulse
loud in his ears as he takes up a post outside of the room Kaoru is led to,
pre-filled with wine and sweets, with a veritable huddle of women peeking in
through the door after him. Rei spares a glance over his shoulder back into the
room, catching Kaoru’s eye. “Does this meet your specifications, Milord?”
 
Kaoru sighs dramatically, as if he’s in fine silks and jewels rather than
dusty, worn traveling clothes. “It’ll do for now, I suppose. I must say, it’s
highly inconvenient to have a manservant with such particular taste for male
flesh, in such a paradise of…curves.”
 
At his beckon, two girls bounce close, veils fluttering over the bottom of
their faces as they giggle, pressing said curves quite close to him. “The
Toymaker caught his eye?” one of them asks, sounding wickedly delighted. “Bring
a fat purse, good sir, he speaks the Lady’s Tongue.”
 
In spite of himself, Rei snorts out a laugh. Whoops. Maybe he should’ve done
something about that before sending Shu off to the Sandlands. “We’ll see about
that,” he mutters, offering Kaoru a bow of his head before stepping away, and
pulling the door shut behind him.
 
Without Kaoru in his line of vision, focusing on Shu becomes even more all-
encompassing. Striding down the hall, Rei follows the scent of Shu, bright and
heady, the thrum of his magic that feels like it’s wrapped around his neck like
a noose, dragging him in, pulling hard.
 
 Go where it’s safe. I’ll find you.
 
For all of his complaining, it’s so, so comforting to be able to speak to
someone in his own mind.
 
 One step ahead of you, my love.
 
By the time Rei finds him, Shu’s in his own quarters, ripping off the draping
robes he’s been in since coming to this stupid, evil, too-hot country, grabbing
for the sandalwood oil to have it ready, spilling it in his haste.Come soon,
come soon, I burn.
 
Drawn to the room like a moth to a flame, Rei’s form shifts effortlessly back
to his natural one the moment before reaching the door, and he slips inside,
drawing the door closed behind him with a resounding thud.
 
He says nothing. Two strides, and he’s in front of Shu, grabbing him with long-
fingered hands about his waist, dragging him and crushing their lips together.
Kissing that mouth is like drinking from the coldest, purest fountain in the
middle of this damned desert, and Rei shudders, only releasing him to drag a
shaky thumb against that perfect cheek. “Hello, love,” he breathes.
 
The tears don’t stop, even now that Rei is close, close enough to touch, to
burn away the aching emptiness of the last months. Shu smiles through it, hot
salty water splashing onto his teeth, dripping off of his chin as he leans in,
touching their foreheads together. “I’ve missed you,” he says softly, their
mental connection flooding Rei with everything he’s seen, felt, heard,
witnessed, and suffered since they’d last touched.
 
It’s so much that Rei winces, though he forces himself not to withdraw, his
fingers biting harder into Shu’s flesh to compensate. “I missed you,” he
quietly says in turn, crushing Shu to his chest, turning his head to the side
to bury his face into Shu’s neck, and breath in the scent of him. It’s a
mistake, because with that scent disappears the last of his self-control, and
Rei compulsively bites down, the taste of soft skin and vibrant blood on his
tongue making him groan.
 
Being bitten makes every bit of Shu’s body lurch up in response, melting into
Rei, shoving his neck against Rei’s mouth, hungry to be eaten. “Take all of
me,” he breathes, eyes glazed over in sheer bliss, skin tight and hot. “It’s
all yours, it’s all yours, I’m yours, just—“
 
Without releasing Shu’s neck, Rei shoves him forward, flat onto his back on the
bed, crawling after him as he drinks deeply with long, noisy swallows. It’s too
much, probably, but  nothing would feel like enough after that long—after not
being able to feel him, after not being able to touch him—
 
Rei breaks away from Shu’s throat with a ragged gasp, his tongue dragging over
the wound, sucking up the droplets of blood that threaten to escape. “Turn
over,” he rasps, mouthing another kiss to Shu’s mouth, sucking on his tongue,
his hands already urging Shu to obey him. Underneath his touch, it feels like
Shu is burning, but it’s hard to tell if that’s Shu, or himself.
 
Shu turns as fast as an eel, shoving himself back against Rei, hands pushing at
the bed, uncaring of traction, of anything except Rei behind him. He grabs at
the oil, spilling it carelessly over his fingers, reaching back to finger
himself swiftly, slicking himself as fast as possible when Rei feels so hot,
hard, and perfect above him. “I’m burning,” he whispers, looking up over his
shoulder at Rei. “Nothing is enough, nothing is as—my love, you’re so low,
hurry and feed, these lands are dangerous.”
 
“Shh. I won’t be for long.”
 
Rei snatches the bottle away before it can spill further, tipping over the rest
of it on his cock as he pulls it out, panting just from touch himself. The arch
of Shu’s back is perfect, his skin so soft that running his slick fingers over
the perfect curve of his hips takes Rei’s breath away, and he buries his face
into Shu’s hair, inhaling again. “No one—no one takes the place of you,” he
groans, and he eases his cock to that slick hole, sucking in a sharp breath
when he starts to sink inside.
 
Even with the oil, it’s too tight. Rei curses underneath his breath when his
cock slips up to rub against the cleft of Shu’s ass, and he bites down again,
teeth fastening possessively to Shu’s shoulder, holding instead of drinking
this time when he eases his cock back to that tight hole, far more careful this
time when he works the head inside. Breathe, love—you want me in you, don’t
you?
 
That’s all I want.
 
Shu arches back, eyes fluttering closed as Rei sinks inside. His hands fumble,
reaching for Rei’s, closing around them and squeezing, just to feel that
connection of skin on skin. The sudden enormity of Rei washes over him, wiping
everything else out, leaving him a drooling, blissed-out mess, feeling as if
he’s been inhaling nothing but opium for the last year. All he breathes is Rei,
all he thinks is Rei, all he feels is Rei surrounding him, taking him,
ravishing him.
 
 I’m yours. Have me until I fall apart.
 
 Gladly.
 
Rei entangles their fingers together, squeezing Shu’s hand tightly as he sinks
inside with a low, rumbling grunt of effort. He stills for a moment, breathing
in deep, feeling, savoring, soaking in the way his magic thrums, the way Shu’s
thrums, thick in the air. Around his cock, Shu feels perfect—tight and slick
and his, and Rei bends over him, releasing his shoulder to pant noisily in the
air, an arm sliding around Shu’s waist to pull him back into each thrust.
 
Magic flares around them, wild and uncontrolled. Even after all this time—or
perhaps, because it’s been so long—Shu can’t begin to get a handle on it,
doesn’t even want to. No one but them will be able to see it, the way his own
body responds with glowing health to Rei’s lashing power, the way Rei grows
less pale, less wan, more vibrant and alive. Shu squeezes Rei’s fingers,
opening a channel even wider between them, letting all of his thoughts and
feelings flow, unrestricted between them, in the most pure joining he’s ever
been a part of. My soul is yours, love.
 
It’s almost too much.
 
If Kaoru tastes like spice, Shu is fresh, perfectly ripe fruit, dripping when
he sinks his teeth in, bringing that flavor to blossom fresh over his tongue.
Rei trembles as he bends forward over Shu, clinging to him, his magic doing the
same, barely pulling out with each thrust when it just feels perfect to be
inside.
 
“Shu…” His mind is so clouded, too overwhelmed with the flow of that magic that
words are necessary. Rei bites again, and the next taste of Shu’s blood is too
much. Rei spills, and he grabs and clings to Shu, that orgasm so secondary to
being able to feel Shu’s soft skin underneath his hands, to the way it feels
when his magic pulses and shakes and wraps around them.
 
Shu gulps slowly for air, eyes rolling back in his head as he shudders under
Rei, letting Rei have him in every way he can. He feels as if his body is
breaking apart, melting down into the bed, dissolving under Rei’s magic, and
glories in it. “You don’t…have to stop,” he slurs, cheek pressed against the
pillow. “I’m yours, as many times as you want, I love you, I love you…”
 
Rei slowly, painstakingly rolls to the side, not pulling out and firmly keeping
an arm about Shu to keep him close. “I’m going to stay in you,” he murmurs once
he releases Shu’s neck again, licking the blood from his fangs. The swirling
patterns of magic fluttering about cloud his vision, and Rei sighs, absently
sliding a hand up to thumb over one of Shu’s nipples. “And probably…never pull
out. Gods, I’ve missed you…”
 
Shu feels his eyes leaking tears again, though he doesn’t feel sad in the
slightest. He nestles happily back, eyes closed, drinking in the feel of Rei
behind him. “If you ever pull out, I’ll blow you up,” he murmurs. “I think
that’s fair.”
 
“Fuck, I wish you’d kill me,” Rei manages with a wet, ragged laugh, squeezing
Shu tightly as he sucks on one of the bite marks he left behind, drawing blood
back up to the surface for him to nurse slowly. “Being without you makes me
want to die. You’re so…perfect.”
 
“I…don’t think I can ever be without you again,” Shu says softly, tracing
patterns on Rei’s palm, which he captures and refuses to relinquish. “Do we
have to mute the bond again? Or have you found out everything you need to know
about this horrible country? I kind of want to blow it up.”
 
“Shh. There are plenty of lovely things here.” Rei presses a slow, warm kiss
behind Shu’s ear. “Like you, right now. Mmn…no, I don’t think we need to do
that again. Not for a long time.” He plants another kiss, then another, and
absently shifts, adjusting the angle of his hips as his cock twitches inside.
“You,” he says, lips turning up in amusement, “smell like Mika.”
 
Shu smiles. “I don’t even know what you smell like. Something…white? Does that
make sense?”
 
“Ahh, yes. I reconnected with an old friend of mine, who just happens to be a
holy knight.” Rei pauses, and lets his tongue snake around the shell of Shu’s
ear. “And my husband, from way back when. How is Mika?”
 
“In his element. Oh, that reminds me.” Shu reaches back, and pinches Rei’s hip,
hard. “That’s for never telling me I talk like a whore in Sandland.”
 
Rei grins, plucking at a nipple firmly. “If I had told you, you would’ve
stopped. C’mon, tell me you’re at my service.”
 
“Not now that I know how much you’ll enjoy it!”
 
“You’re terrible. The cruelest. Be sweet,” Rei purrs, rolling his hips forward
as he stuffs his face into Shu’s hair and inhales. “I was warned you’d cost me
a pretty penny, do I need to pay up first?”
 
“W-who told you that?” Shu demands, though it comes out breathy and weak.
“Nnh…I…” He swallows, and switches to Sandtongue, because he can’t deny Rei
anything. “For such a fine lord as yourself, I’ll take it on faith…as I’m, ah,
at your service, sir.”
 
Rei groans, then curses, and pulls Shu firmly back against him as his hips roll
forward and up into him. “Good boy,” he rumbles, splaying his hands over those
lean hips to squeeze and knead as he fucks forward slowly. “I remember…the
first time you practiced Sandtongue around me…I heard how you spoke, and it
made me as hard as a rock.”
 
“I thought you just—hells, Rei—I thought you just had, ahh, a thing for
language…”
 
“Maybe that too,” Rei breathlessly laughs, holding still to just feel the way
Shu shivers and squeezes down around him. “But hearing my perfect, beautiful,
prissy consort speaking like a whore…”
 
“I t-told you to stop calling me prissy,” Shu complains, hands fisted in the
sheets, eyelids heavy. “You feel…so good inside me, nnh, take more than you
need, I want to be part of you…what else do you want me to say, dirty my tongue
now…”
 
“Tell me…how it feels.” Rei sighs, eyes lidded as he rolls languidly onto his
back, dragging Shu with him and coaxing him upright. It’s a lovely angle, being
able to watch the tension and arch of Shu’s back, the way all of that lean
muscle clenches and twitches, the way his ass looks wrapped around his cock. He
pets his hands down Shu’s sides, steadying him. “When my cock is inside of you
like this. Say it nice and pretty, I know you’ve learned by now.”
 
“It…ah…” Despite Rei’s teasing, Shu fumbles for the words, his mind stuck on
linguistics when Rei keeps moving him around like he’s the boneless marionette.
“I, ah, it feels…like you are having my hard, you are in the throat…nnh, wait,
I can do better, nnh, Sir—“
 
“You’re so cute, I’ll probably die,” Rei murmurs, shoving himself up to lick a
stripe up between Shu’s shoulderblades, chasing after a trickle of sweat that
makes him shudder when the taste washes over his tongue. His hips rock up, his
cock achingly hard inside, his movements relentless. “You’re trying to say…’it
feels like you’re in my throat’…but I guess it’s hard to talk if I’m like that,
huh? Call me ‘sir’ again.”
 
“How about,” Shu suggests breathlessly, a giddy smile on his face as he grinds
back, “I say one of the things I do know…please…Sir…fuck me…I need it…” His
body is too hot, too full, and somehow feels like he hasn’t had nearly enough.
 
“W-who taught you that?” Rei groans, his head thunking against Shu’s back as
his cock swells, and he can feel himself drip inside, already dangerously
close. “Get off on me,” he hoarsely manages. “I need you to. Gods, you’re
perfect.”
 
“Couldn’t stop,” Shu gasps, wriggling down onto Rei, letting his spasming
muscles helping him slam down, filling himself over and over, one hand coming
up to his nipple. He manages one squeeze before he’s coming, shivering hard,
adding, “M-Mika taught me…some nice…phrases…for you…”
 
Rei flops onto his back again, his hands on Shu’s hips, squeezing and holding
him steady even as his own fingers shake. The rumbling, thrumming surge of
magic after Shu comes makes him see nothing but odd splashes of color for a
moment, and Rei shudders, his toes curling as he thrusts up once before
spilling again, long, slow pulses of his cock filling Shu inside. “If it’s…too
much…we can pause,” he pants out, blinking away sweat from his eyes. “Gods. How
did I go without this for six years…”
 
“I went insane,” Shu mumbles, reaching back and up to touch Rei’s face gently.
“I think I must have been insane, without you.”
 
“I think I’m insane now,” Rei blissfully says, and rolls them again, partially
crushing Shu down into the mattress. “Tolerate this, I want to be plastered to
you until I send you back home.”
 
“Tolerate, he says? As if I’m ever letting you go.” Shu’s voice loses a bit of
imperious command, only because it’s muffled into the mattress, quite happily.
 
“You’re so soft,”Rei bemoans, wrapping all four limbs around Shu as he nuzzles
into his hair. “Even in this terrible desert…soft and warm and good…and you
taste like peaches, ripe and juicy…I love you, you know that? My magic is doing
some things right now, but I love you.”
 
“You’re all of my heart and half of my soul,” Shu says softly, quite content to
be adored and petted. “Take more, if you need, I’ve not seen you so empty in
years. What’s wrong with you, the bond was muted, I’d have thought I’d see you
full to the brim with a bit taken from every pretty boy in the country.”
 
“I’ve gotten picky in my old age,” Rei laments, content to cuddle Shu for the
time being as his magic swirls about, uninterested in being properly restrained
when he’s suddenly so full. It’ll calm down eventually, or it won’t, it’s never
changed much of anything either way. “Also, I…ran into an unplanned issue, just
prior to seeing you.”
 
“We’ve had…more than a few of those,” Shu admits, nuzzling back against Rei’s
chin. “Several, I suppose. Anything that needs to be dealt with right now?”
 
“No, I dealt with it. The king, specifically, and his…lingering bond.”
 
“Oh. Good. That was quite messy, wasn’t it? Also, I think we’re going to need
to kill a princess, I don’t like her.”
 
“Don’t scold me when you see him later,” Rei warns, giving Shu another slow,
thorough squeeze. “Which princess? I’ll kill all of them. I want to bury the
whole family except for Adonis.”
 
“The horrible one that kicked my Mika. You’ll know her, she’s the one I’ll be
pointing at and shrieking.”
 
“She kicked him? I’ll kill her myself. And you’ll not be pointing and shrieking
at anyone. You and Mika are going home.”
 
Shu’s lip wobbles. “R-really? Ah…I feel like I should protest and tell you I
want to stay here and finish it until the end, but honestly, I do not. I want
to go home, I miss our tower, and your little dog figurines, and the children,
and the garden, and I really hate sand and everyone calling me a concubine.”
 
“It was never the plan to have you ‘stay here until the end’, love,” Rei
patiently says, pressing a kiss to the back of Shu’s neck. “You’ve done what
you needed to do, you and Mika both. I’m sending you home with Kuro and those
children you rescued. I have all the help I need, and honestly, all I’m going
to be doing at this point is blowing things up, which I frankly don’t want you
involved in.”
 
“Excellent,” Shu says with a sigh, eyes shutting as he relaxes in Rei’s arms.
“I want to go back to making complex, delicate, and underappreciated things
with my magic, please, I don’t think I’m meant for a life of espionage.”
 
“You’re far too talented for a life of espionage. You’re wasted here. Ahh, I’m
pulling out, or my magic is going to make me start again,” Rei murmurs,
shifting enough to separate them with a wincing little sigh. “I could feel
Mika’s magic leaking the moment I stepped into this place…is he all right?”
 
“No.” Shu’s voice is firm, but his mind’s voice is raw, emotional, and
unstable. “There was…an incident, recently.”
 
“Tell me.” Rei’s voice is soft and calm, and he presses a kiss to Shu’s hair.
“I’ll fix it.”
 
“The second-oldest princess. Mika refused a piece of meat from the prince, and
she…she hurt him. That’s why my seal is so, ah, inelegant.”
 
“Everything you do is elegant.” Rei pets a hand slowly down Shu’s side, tracing
his fingers over soft skin. “I already didn’t have plans to let her live. I’ve
lost my sense of humor when it comes to the state of things in this country…it
will be dealt with. Is there anything else I should know?”
 
“Have you been informed of the children? Did Hajime find you on the road? I
confess, I don’t know which messages you received, and which missed you along
the way.”
 
“I haven’t been able to contact Hajime,” Rei admits. “Again, this incident with
Leo distracted me. I haven’t been down in the Sandlands for long, and prior to
that, I was in the Hinterlands. Natsume sends his regards, by the way.”
 
“A good child,” Shu says fondly, and snuggles down harder, as if Rei’s arms can
protect him from all the ugliness of this horrible country. “We found one of
the children. Mika did. He’s got her here, following him around like a
duckling. Hajime went to take you word, but we were waiting for a safe route to
be set up.”
 
“I heard that you found one of them. Hajime hasn’t touched base with me yet,
but I’m unsurprised he couldn’t find me; I was laying very low. Fortunately, I
was planning on having you all leave together. Kuro is still here, yes? I’ll
have him escort you, and clear the route with Chiaki and Kanata’s assistance.”
 
“One girl,” Shu reminds him. “Not all of them. And, ah, I doubt Kuro will be
able to take me, he’s moonlighting. For the Coinmaster.” He hesitates, then
shoves the rest of what had happened through their bond, too embarrassed about
his behavior to say it out loud.
 
Rei pauses, and presses another kiss to the side of Shu’s neck. giving him a
slow squeeze around his waist. “Then I’ll get someone else to take you home,”
he quietly says. “If the other noble children haven’t been found by now…you
know it’s highly likely that they won’t be.”
 
“You don’t know that. You can’t. We only found the girl this week, you can’t.
And…and one of the ringleaders…it’s Aida, his mother.” Shu doesn’t bother to
say whose mother.
 
“I know. Mao’s had a few intimate encounters with her. All the more reason to
get you both out of here, as soon as possible,” Rei murmurs. “Just—don’t be
surprised if recovering them  isn’t possible. I’m going to try, but I’m
realistic.”
 
Shu’s heart constricts, and he forces himself to think of little Selmy, safe
and alive, because of what they’d done. “It’s Lord Baristan’s daughter,” he
says softly. “He’s a good man. Must be out of his mind with worry for her. But
Rei…there are lots of little girls who get sold down here every day. They have
parents, too.”
 
“I know, Shu, I know.” Rei sits back, raking his hair back out of his face. “I
want to save all of them,” he quietly says. “But sometimes, that isn’t
possible. My goal at this point is to destroy the head of this disgusting beast
and then cut off the limbs. I’ll save as many as I can in the process,
but—sometimes…” Rei hesitates, then shakes his head. “Sometimes, these children
are better off dead. Not everyone is like Mika.”
 
“That’s not your call, Rei,” Shu whispers. “You don’t get to decide that
they’ll never heal.”
 
“I don’t want to do that. But Shu—if it comes to making that judgement call,
and being able to end this, I will make it.”
 
Shu draws in on himself, magic seething unhappily, burbling over like a boiling
pot with a poorly-fitting lid. “And if I can save them, even from your
judgement, I will.”
 
“Shu—Shu, don’t.” Rei winces, the unhappy surge of Shu’s magic affecting him
more severely after so much time apart. “Listen to what I’m saying,” he firmly
says, taking Shu by the arm and urging him to turn around and face him. “I want
to save all of them. I’m trying to. But realistically, I might not be able to
if I’m going to take out everyone that needs to die. Please don’t be upset with
me right now, I need you to trust me.”
 
“This is wrong,” Shu says softly, not meeting Rei’s eyes. “Saving everyone that
needs to be saved, isn’t that better than killing everyone that needs to die?
The suffering down here, Rei—you should never have let me see it if you didn’t
want me to care.”
 
“Lest you forget, I didn’t want you to come.”
 
“Well, I’m here.” Shu shrugs. “So we both have to deal with that. The things
I’ve seen…I’m going to need to hole up in my tower and create beautiful magic
for a year. You and Mika are allowed in. And Izumi, he’s beautiful.”
 
“He should be here soon. I’ll make him take you home.” Rei cups Shu’s face in
his hands, pulling him up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’m going to try
to save everyone,” he softly says, “but you have to trust my judgement if I
can’t. I’m the one that has to make terrible choices so you don’t have to.”
 
“You take that on yourself,” Shu whispers, eyes creased in pain. “No one else
thinks that it’s up to you to make every terrible choice.”
 
“If not me, who? Our king that’s barely a man yet?” Rei gently squeezes Shu’s
cheeks. “I’m also much more often assured that I’m in the right, and that
everyone else is wrong. It’s a task better left to me.”
 
Shu snorts, and gives Rei a shove. “If he doesn’t want the responsibility, he
should let someone else be king,” he says firmly. “This country needs a firm
hand. If he doesn’t want to be that hand…”
 
“I don’t want it, either,” Rei says with a laugh, swaying with Shu’s shove. “So
I’m taking care of what I think falls into my scope. Maybe he’ll be more
focused after all of this is solved.” 
 
Something in Rei’s voice, or perhaps his mental tone, makes Shu pause, looking
skeptically up at Rei. “You do something to him?” he asks, already knowing the
answer, but not the details.
 
“He is the reason I was on such a magical low,” Rei offers up with a shrug,
pushing his hair back behind his ears. “Nothing he didn’t ask for.”
 
“Did it hurt you?” Shu asks, concerned, hand coming up to touch Rei’s face.
“Whatever you did…it’s something you hated, isn’t it?”
 
Rei grimaces as his eyes flick aside, not meeting Shu’s gaze. “I didn’t have
another choice,” he settles upon. “I had to find some way to block off the
remains of his resonant bond.”
 
That makes Shu grab Rei closer, nuzzling into Rei’s neck. “The remains of a
bond…I never want to think about something horrible like that. What did you
have to do?”
 
“Nothing of the sort will ever happen to our bond,” Rei assures him, stroking a
hand over Shu’s hair. “Leo…he was in such obvious pain. I met him at the
auction house, and I could immediately feel it. When I wrapped him up into my
magic, all of that stopped for him—and he asked me to make that permanent, if I
could.” Rei sighs, propping his chin atop Shu’s head. “I pulled him into my
thrall.”
 
Shu freezes, face gone utterly white. His eyes widen, and he looks up to Rei’s
face, horror dawning there. “You…I…you really think that was…best?” he asks,
trying to be reasonable when his mind is so horrified.
 
“The other option,” Rei quietly says, “was letting what remains of Eichi to
crawl up from the depths of the Shadowlands courtesy of the attachment he had
to Leo’s bond. There was no way in hell I was going to let that happen.”
 
“He—crawl—“ Shu starts to shake, hands gone as pale as his face. “No, no, no,
he’s dead, I saw him die, you know he’s dead, he can’t still be—“
 
“He was an Archdemon—they never…” Rei exhales a quick breath and grabs Shu’s
hands, squeezing them firmly. “He is not coming back,” he lowly says. “Shu,
listen to me. By having Leo in my thrall, there’s no way he can come back, not
so long as I live. You trust me, don’t you?”
 
Shu forces himself to take a breath, then another—no, he’s lost the rhythm, his
breath stutters, spots flutter in front of his vision—no, no, he must master
this— “I t-trust you,” he says, but the words are half-panicked. “He could come
back? Really? There’s a chance, even—even a minuscule one?”
 
“No.” Rei’s voice is firm, his hands tight around Shu’s. “There’s no chance.
Not a single one now. I’ve taken care of that.”
 
“They never die,” Shu says, finishing Rei’s thought from earlier. “Rei, he’s
clever. And he doesn’t care if he hurts himself on the way out. He’s like
nothing you’ve ever faced before. Just because no one ever has…”
 
“I’ve stopped the only way he could have come back out. The only way, Shu.
Listen to me—he cannot come back so long as Leo is in my thrall.”
 
Rei pulls Shu close, crushing him to his chest, pressing his lips to his
forehead. “I’ve never thralled someone in all of the centuries I’ve been
alive,” he murmurs. “But I did it, because I wanted to make sure that creature
could never come back. Not now, not ever. I did it to keep you safe, and you
will stay safe. I will never, ever let him hurt you again.”
 
Shu’s last wall crumbles, and he presses his face into that broad, welcoming
chest. “Thank you,” he whispers, hands still shaking, though his breathing
starts to calm down. The spectre of Eichi has haunted him for years, and it’s
unlikely to stop that any time soon. “I just want him to be dead. Really dead.”
 
“Like this, he is dead.” Rei kisses his hair again, and his magic sweeps
forward as a glittery, shadowy cloud, wrapping about Shu to envelop him
completely. “It’s no secret that such things are incredibly illegal,” he
quietly says, “but in this case, it was entirely necessary. Let’s just keep it
as under wraps as possible. Leo doesn’t know either; he just thinks it was sex
magic.”
 
“I don’t care about illegal unless someone finds out,” Shu says bluntly. “Laws
keep changing. It used to be illegal for us to touch, remember? I care if it
hurts you, my love, my lord.”
 
“This is why you are my one true love,” Rei groans, collapsing backwards and
dragging Shu on top of him. “It’s a little black cloud on my magic. Very ugly
and distracting, but not painful. If you Look, you should be able to see it.”
 
“Then I won’t look. Unless looking will help you somehow.” Shu smiles shyly,
looking down at Rei, eyelashes fluttering. “I like the way you look to my eyes.
We all have our dark clouds somewhere, that doesn’t mean we should look at
them.”
 
“…You are so beautiful,” Rei murmurs, lifting a hand to run his thumb over
Shu’s cheek. “The only dark clouds I see on you are when you aren’t with me.”
 
Shu smiles, leaning down to kiss Rei sweetly, tasting his lips, as if the two
of them are the only things in the world that matter. “Don’t look too closely,
then. I think my soul looks best from a distance.”
 
“Wrong. It looks good at all angles.” Rei leans up to kiss him, then again, and
forces himself to stop after a third. “If you keep being this pretty, I’m going
to eat you again, and I have things to do,” he groans. “Where’s Mika? Should I
check on him? Or would that spook him too much?”
 
Shu thinks about that for a moment, turning it over and over in his mind. “I’m
not sure whether seeing you will help,” he admits, “but I have to see him, no
matter what, so you might as well come with me. Are we breaking cover, or must
I put my seal back on?”
 
“Can you send for him?” Rei asks, reaching up to toy with a strand of Shu’s
hair. “The prince, too…ah, perhaps I should go to him. It’s been so long. He’s
a good boy, isn’t he, the prince?”
 
“Very good. He made Mika not want to completely die, so he has my gratitude,
for what that’s worth to him. Doubtless, not as much as it should be.” Shu
reaches for a bellpull, and finds it out of his reach. “I have to admit,” he
says with a huff, “I’m considering using magic to pull that. Ridiculously
wasteful, look what this has done to me.”
 
“When you stretch like that, I can see how loooong you are,” Rei bemoans,
reaching after him to snag his arms back around Shu’s waist, and bury his face
into his lower back. “Like a dancer. Like a work of art. You are wasted on the
Academy, on the world of wizards, on this world entirely…”
 
“So make me a world without war,” Shu says, meeting Rei’s eyes. “Make me the
world of flowers you want to build. And I’ll dance in it until the sun burns
out, and we’re dust.”
 
“I’m working on it.” Rei’s mouth twists into a wry smile, and he nips at the
back of Shu’s shoulder. “Before we summon him, you didn’t tell me—how was
Mika?”
 
“I did tell you. Bad. Last time I saw him, we were both…well, he was crying,
I’m obviously, I wasn’t crying, though it was quite traumatic.”
 
“No, darling. I mean in bed.”
 
“No, it wasn’t traumatic in—oh.” Shu colors abruptly pink, unsure of whether he
should be amused or embarrassed or nervous, but settling on embarrassed. “He
was…a delight. You aren’t mad? I know, I know, double standard and I shouldn’t
even be asking, but it is the first time.”
 
“I would have been annoyed if you didn’t take this chance to climb in bed with
him,” Rei says with an amused smile. “I’ve been convinced that if it weren’t
for me, you would’ve had him some time ago. You are a set, after all.” 
 
“I…I love him,” Shu says softly, looking away from Rei’s eyes. “You know that.
You are lord of my heart and soul, but…” He purses his lips. “He’s special.”
 
“I know.” Rei reaches out, catching Shu’s chin gently to turn his face back
towards him. “I understand. And I don’t fault you for it in the slightest. If
anything, I’m grateful you have someone like that. For your sake, and, well, to
even out the score a bit, heh.”
 
Shu arches an eyebrow. “The white knight?”
 
“Ooh. That transparent, huh?”
 
“You did open an unrestricted channel into my mind, love.”
 
“Ah. So I did. It’s been awhile, be gentle with me.”
 
Shu smiles, tracing a finger down Rei’s chest. “Tell me about him. Is he going
to be…a part of my life?”
 
“Not unless you want him to be.” Rei’s eyes lid, watching the path of Shu’s
finger. “Before you…well. I was with him for the greater part of a century.”
 
“But you’ve never mentioned him.” Shu traces his fingertip around a nipple,
then taps it. “Too painful? Did you part sadly?”
 
“If me sobbing on the floor of a brothel after I realized my wayward pirate
days were over is sad…”
 
“Embarrassing, I think the word for that is embarrassing.”
 
“I was verydistraught that I wasn’t allowed to fuck anything and everything
anymore.”
 
Shu’s little smile fades. “Oh. After you fled the Academy.” Unspoken, he adds,
And what you were upset about wasn’t our parting, it was that you couldn’t have
this other man that I never knew existed.
 
“That’s not true,” Rei says out loud, frowning. “I was upset about a number of
things—leaving you included. But yes, I was upset about not being able to be
with him anymore—we were lovers for a century. We had others, of course,
but…he’s the lord of High Harbor. How do you think I came across such a lovely
stronghold?”
 
“I don’t know. I didn’t think about it. Perhaps I should have.” Shu looks away,
grabbing the sheet and tugging it up over himself. “You were lovers for a
century, but you never mentioned him to me?”
 
“Just like you never mentioned exactly how deep your love for Mika goes.” Rei
sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Shu. I was trying to distance myself from
him so I could focus properly on you. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
 
Shu takes in a deep breath, then nods. “Very well. What do we do now? Are we
supposed to…are we supposed to keep our bond muted from now on? If we don’t,
you won’t be able to…”
 
“I’ll temporarily mute it as necessary. I think that’s necessary for your
continued happiness, anyway; you were suffering before, being the sole object
of my affections. I like being able to dote on you, not to need to fuck you
into next week.” Rei runs a fingertip down Shu’s back. “Kaoru understands. He’s
jealous, but he understands.”
 
“So, tell me about him.” Shu snuggles closer, tugging the sheet over both of
them. “If you’re going to be seeing him often, and I do like the idea of
temporary muting as needed for my health as well as the nation’s, I want to
know about who’s important to you.”
 
Rei relaxes, slinging an arm over Shu’s waist as he settles down next to him.
“He’s a total womanizer, a dishonor on his family, and one of the kindest
people I’ve ever met.” His smile is wry. “He’s a very good person. Very laid
back and gentle…but gods, I do love the way his ass looks when he’s slinging a
sword around.”
 
“He sounds like an utter scoundrel,” Shu says, amused. “Just your type. A lot
like that puppy you used to bring around, sweet but rough around the edges. The
brutish type, eh?”
 
“Mmm…not exactly. Kaoru’s much more delicate than he likes to admit, in his
sensibilities. He is nobility. But I will admit,” Rei says with a laugh, “I do
like scoundrels. Perhaps he’s the perfect mix—a pretty, delicate scoundrel.”
 
Shu’s eyelashes bat as he says, amused, “And you don’t at all mind that you’re
adding another deep pocket to the Academy’s side, mm? Or are they the destitute
sort of nobility?”
 
“Try the kind of nobility that has a number of ‘go away houses’, as he calls
them, for his languishing within when he’s depressed that I’m not around. And
often holds parties. With lots of wine, girls, and food decorated with edible
gold leaf. You know, to my credit, I was uninterested in the Academy when I met
him.”
 
Shu blinks, less amused and more bemused. “Ah…is this a particular kind of
nobility I’m supposed to know about? I don’t think my family had much
connection with anyone so, ah, eccentric…”
 
“Doubtful. He’s a paladin, Shu. The White Holy Order. They aren’t exactly
highly publicized these days.”
 
“Very holy, very pure, with his go away houses and his edible gold girls.”
 
“I…think you’re combining a few things that don’t go together at all? But that
being said, I did say he brought dishonor onto his family often. He’s fucking
me, after all.”
 
“For a century, I did not think that your taste ran so…elderly.”
 
“He’s a paladin. They age slowly, far more slowly than even wizards, or
Enhanced.” Rei’s eyebrows raise. “You do know how old I am, right?”
 
“Yes, but you said he was a paladin, I’ve never—I thought they were a myth,
Rei. My father said they’d died off years ago.”
 
“Your father’s information is a bit outdated,” Rei says, amused. “I have his
sword with me, do you want to touch it?”
 
Shu brightens up. “I absolutely want to touch it, I heard they were works of
unparalleled beauty. Does he have the beads, and the wheel?”
 
“Ahh…I’ve never seen them in action, but I do believe he has them?” Rei slides
out of bed, retrieving the borrowed sword that for him is absolutely nothing
but decoration. “Here. Don’t cut yourself on it. For a human, it must feel very
pleasant; it makes me uneasy.”
 
Shu lets out a pleased little hum, running his fingers over the blade of the
sword, tracing the inscriptions and feeling them flare up—mostly in response to
his touch, at least once in reaction to his innate magic, a warning. “Ah, so
are the rumors true? Do they go after wizards, as well as demons? Well, they’ve
got you coming and going, haven’t they? Oh, the workmanship on this is
remarkable, does he have the holy robes? I’d strangle a friend to touch the hem
of those fabrics.”
 
“Apparently, wizard towers ‘unmake them’, whatever that means,” Rei says,
flopping back down, cheek resting in one hand. “So truly, I’m his worst enemy,
a demonic wizard from the depths of hell. I’ve never seen him wear a holy robe,
but I bet he has them, and I’m sure he’d let you touch them. Off topic, but he
has an extremely talented tongue.”
 
“That is off-topic,” Shu agrees, and leans forward and licks Rei’s cheek. “What
do you tell him about me, this lover of a century? Or—oh. Does he hate me? I
should ask, I suppose. I probably would, in his situation.”
 
“He’s incredibly jealous,” Rei says, lips twitching into a smile, and he taps
Shu’s upturned nose. “And has informed me, after apparently spying on us on
several occasions, that you are absolutely not his type, but he’d still have a
threesome. But I tell him how beautiful and intelligent you are, and how
talented of a wizard you are, and how you make me the cutest dog figurines in
the world.”
 
“Rei—Rei, don’t tell him about the dog figurines, they don’t make sense if you
don’t see them in person,” Shu says with a sigh, shaking his head. “Spying?
Spying on us doing what? I’m sure he doesn’t care about me being a good wizard,
since he apparently wants to exterminate us.”
 
“He doesn’t want to exterminate wizards, he doesn’t want to do anything but
lounge around and drink wine and eat…—anyway, he knows how much I like dogs,
the figurines made sense to him. Apparently he spied on us just being us, and
saw you crying over a bird painting at some point.”
 
“You know, we really should be worried that someone is able to spy on us so
easily. Do you think he means that creation Wataru sent? That wasn’t a
painting, that was a vertical cake.”
 
“I don’t think we need to worry about him spying on us, considering he does
have several leashes on me so it’s quite easy for him, but no one else. Was it
really a cake? Why were you crying over it? I don’t remember.”
 
“You never remember the important things,” Shu says dismissively. “Yes, it was
really a cake, for White Dove Day, remember? You were in the Capital, dealing
with one of those festivals you were supposed to be present at, and the bond
was aching at me, I just happened to be next to the cake. Also, the
craftsmanship was beautiful, so if I were crying about it, that wouldn’t be so
strange.”
 
“That explains it. You’re very adorable, do you know that?” Rei smiles fondly,
running his fingers through Shu’s hair. “Anyway, I think you’d like him well
enough. He’s very lovely. Yellow hair, grey eyes, tanned from always being
outside, nice and tall and fit. He has Kanata’s stamp of approval as well.”
 
“Well, that’s not easy to get,” Shu says, thinking back to some of their
previous conversations. “But I’m glad he has it, Kanata’s a good judge of
people. I’m better, of course,” he says, with absolutely no evidence to back
that up.
 
“Of course you are. I value your judgement above all others.”
 
“Excellent, I knew you had good taste. That was the correct answer, you may
touch my hair.”
 
Rei’s fingers obliging run through the feathery strands, petting him slowly. “I
love him,” he finally says. “He’s a good man. I trust him a great deal. You can
trust him, too.”
 
Shu smiles, arching into the petting. “I’m horribly jealous, you know,” he
says, trying to sound serious. “But really, Rei, if you love him, I’m sure I
will…at least be able to tolerate him. I’m sorry, your taste sometimes…”
 
Rei’s hand pauses, his eyebrows raising slowly. “Go on. What about my taste?”
 
“It’s bad.”
 
“Further explanation is needed.”
 
“Every time you tell me about an old flame, and I meet him? He’s strange.”
 
“You’re just saying that because of Keito, aren’t you.”
 
“Ah…not just him, if it were just about him, I’d have said your taste is
abysmal and there’s no hope for you.”
 
“You’re a brat sometimes, you know. It’s very charming, but I think that sums
up my taste nicely—brats.”
 
“How dare you.” Shu plants a kiss on his lips, then stands, stretching again
with a small yawn. “We should go collect Mika, before I die of worry. He’s
perfect, you know.”
 
“I don’t want to put on the brute suit again,” Rei groans, throwing an arm over
his face as he sprawls out into Shu’s bed. “I like being beautiful, damn it.”
 
“You said it was almost over, right?” Shu asks, very seriously. “That the
hiding, the sneaking around, they’re over? I can’t stand it anymore, I really
can’t.”
 
“Yes. I’m sending you two home tonight.” Rei forces himself to sit up, throwing
his legs over the side of the bed. “Bring him here, and the prince, too, if
he’s available.”
 
“Help me seal.” Shu smiles wryly. “In this state, I don’t know that I have the
control to do it alone. If I walk out like this, anyone will be able to see
what I am, even some Untalented.”
 
“Please walk around naked and beautiful at the Academy when we get home,” Rei
sighs, reaching out to take Shu’s hands and draw him over. He reaches up,
touching his fingers to Shu’s temple, the heavy weight of Rei’s cloaking
falling down around him like a shadowy blanket, dampening Shu’s magic down to a
barely bubbling simmer. “There you go, darling.”
 
“I’ll be back.” Shu can’t help adding a bit of his own elegance to the spell,
sealing himself up tight as he finally reclothes himself, leaving the room in
search of Mika.
 
Mika, for his part, has made a point to thoroughly avoid the hustle and bustle
about the palace today.
 
Something is happening. That much is obvious, but the sudden arrival of a
strange new guest and the disappearance of Shu for the past hour is troubling,
and Mika paces nervously, hiding within Adonis’s chambers and biting his nails
until the paint chips off. It isn’t until the quiet, familiar footfalls of Shu
come outside of the chamber door that Mika stops, wide eyes unseeing as he
anxiously stares at the door (as if he could see anything that comes through
it).
 
The man that knocks on the door, however, is not Shu, but a tall, handsome,
yellow-haired holy knight, currently on extreme vacation. Kaoru grins, arching
an eyebrow. “Hey there, little birdie. You the one who’s got the place all a-
twitter? I’ve heard of you, but I didn’t think you’d be so pretty. Are you sure
you’re not a girl? That’s right, that’s right, it doesn’t matter down here,
does it? Very convenient.”
 
Mika blinks a few times, reflex making him direct his gaze upward to create the
illusion of actually being polite and being able to pay attention when someone
speaks. “I…u-um…” He hesitates, attempting to feel out the situation, to feel
out this man’s magic—or lack thereof, perhaps? But it’s useless and futile with
normal human senses only available to him, courtesy of the seal (albeit a leaky
one). “It’s…a pleasure to meet you, honored sir?” he settles upon, deciding for
polite, heavily accented common tongue to at least create the illusion of
someone not affiliated with a bunch of wizards out to change the scope of the
land.
 
Kaoru raises an eyebrow, vaguely sketching his hand on the wall, the movement
looking natural to anyone else as he purges the room of any listening spells.
It isn’t a spell on its own, but a natural counter, an Unraveling. He switches
to Sandtongue, sounding instantly like the sort of noble who comes down to
summer in the Sandlands every year, leaving with at least two venereal
diseases. “This more comfortable for you, sweetling? Just came to see what all
the fuss is about. I heard about you from a mutual friend, you see.”
 
Mika frowns, and takes a wary step back. A mutual friend—that could mean
anything, which is very, very terrifying. “I can speak the common tongue, but I
shouldn’t, not here,” he warily murmurs, the bright blue of his eyes focused on
where he hears the man’s voice, but obviously unseeing in spite of how he tries
to keep tabs on where this strange person is. “I…don’t think I know you.”
 
“Which is definitely a shame that I need to remedy,” Kaoru says cheerfully,
leaning against the wall. “So, little bird, I bet you’re all on your guard
because everyone here cares soooo much about the big political issues of the
day, hmm?” He saunters inside, and sits on the edge of a chaise lounge, blue
eyes bright. “Tell me about your Master, would you? It’s a personal interest.
I’m here with his lord.”
 
Mika hesitates visibly, painted nails curling against his own arms as he wraps
them around himself. “My…master,” he slowly repeats, backing up until his legs
hit the end of the large, blanket-piled bed, and he sits. I don’t know, I’m not
sure if I can trust you, this is a bad idea.“Um…forgive me, but…what kind of
personal interest?”
 
“Oh, I’m in love with the Demon King,” Kaoru says breezily, as if it’s the kind
of thing he declares every day. “Actually, he’s my wife. You can talk freely,
by the way. I Unmade all the listenings. This old paladin still has a few
tricks, but don’t let that scare you.”
 
“You’re…a paladin.” Mika chews on his lower lip, messing up the rogue on his
lips in the process. He spares a last glance to the door, watching it as if
someone will burst through at any moment, then heaves a sigh, shutting his
eyes. “I dunno who y’are, but there ain’t no one that’s not in love with Rei,”
he wearily says, switching back to common tongue—this time, without attempting
to sound like a refined prostitute that learned it from a client here or there.
“At least, a little bit. My master’s the best, though, so you ain’t gotta worry
about him being with someone bad or somethin’.”
 
“He’s very fancy, isn’t he?” Kaoru asks, grinning to make it sound playful,
rather than accusatory. Any fool could see that this kid has more than a bit of
hero worship attached to that weird pink guy. “I’ve known Rei for a real long
time, you know. So I kinda want to know a little about the guy that’s so good
he can capture the Demon King’s soul. You know, before we finish rescuing all
the cute little kiddies and get out of here.”
 
“…It ain’t like he had a choice in it,” Mika warily says. “Bonds jus’
kinda…happen. Master’s fancy, but that’s good. He’s th’ best tailor you’ll ever
meet, and th’ best wizard.”
 
“I don’t have too much use for wizards,” Kaoru admits, “call it an old family
superstition, but I always have a use for a good tailor. Suddenly, I’m thrilled
to meet him.”
 
“…y’know Rei’s a wizard, right?”
 
Kaoru beams. “That’s not what I like about him, darling.”
 
“I ain’t your darling. I bet you’re rich. You smell rich.”
 
“Very rich. Why, you need money? I’ve got little use for the stuff.”
 
“Nope.” Mika stares at the blurry, shapeless blob of him, contemplative.
“Whatever you’ve heard about my master, forget it, unless it’s good. He’s as
good as possible. He saved me.”
 
“Of course he did, you’re adorable.” Kaoru draws his legs up, sitting cross-
legged on the lounge. “You fit in so well down here. I hear he loves you an
awful lot, but are you sure you’ll be happy up there where it’s cold? You look
like a warm-weather birdie.”
 
Mika huffs. He shifts. Fidgets. Moodily drums his nails against his arms. “It’s
way too cold everywhere else,” he finally says. “But I gotta. Master likes
livin’ in a fancy wizard tower, and likes all the stuff in the Capital, and
kara’s in the West all the time, so I gotta. I’m not good at bein’ a wizard,
but at least I could be useful doin’ this kinda thing.”
 
“So you’re a wizard that doesn’t like being a wizard,” Kaoru says, amused, “and
you live in the north when you prefer the warm weather, and you speak Common
when you’re native to Sandtongue, and you live the life of a celibate when
you’re obviously made for more…carnal pleasures. Doesn’t anyone appreciate the
person you are, little bird?”
 
Mika’s mouth parts before shutting again, and he huffily sits back. “I’m
appreciated,” he mumbles, kicking his feet slowly. “You’re a paladin, right?
The special holy kind and stuff?”
 
“Eh, more or less. You need something purified?”
 
“Your kind’s all up in th’ Hinterlands, right?” Mika glances up, chewing on his
lower lip again. “They used to roll th’ kinda wizard I am up there, so you’d
kill ‘em. Well, I didn’t get shipped up there, so I’m appreciated enough.
That’s what I figure.”
 
Kaoru inclines his head, acknowledging the touch. “Just want to make sure…ah,
how do I put it? That the kind of man my lover’s bonded to treats people like
they’ve got value. Keeping you alive isn’t all you deserve, now, is it?”
Kaoru’s grin turns rakish. “Also, you should be warned in advance. I’m a really
bad paladin. Dishonored, disowned, and disinherited by everyone that matters
for my naughty ways.”
 
“I figured. You’re in bed with Rei.” Mika’s smile is wry, and he glances down,
plucking at the hems of the gauzy things he’s wrapped up in. “Master’s th’
kindest person I know. He treats people good even when they don’t deserve it.
He stood up for me when no one else would, so…if y’were lookin’ for anythin’ to
justify stealin’ Rei away and never comin’ back, y’ain’t gonna get it from me.”
 
“Well, there goes that cunning plan.” Kaoru smiles ruefully, but something
bothers him, the same thing that had led him to this room in the first place.
“Look, I was joking before, but are you sure you don’t need anything purified?
You…sweetheart, you’ve got a dark energy hanging around you, you know that,
right? Kinda smells like…” He trails off, not wanting to scare the boy.
 
“I’m a necromancer,” Mika flatly says. “I’ve always got little ghosties ’n
stuff. I’d show you, but you’d die.”
 
Kaoru tries very hard not to look as if he’d just been hit in the back of the
head with a board. “Oh. You’re—a necromancer.” And you’re just…saying it! Out
loud! “Ah, well, heh, that’s…an unusual gift, eh?”And I’m not supposed to kill
you?? Rei, what have you gotten me into this time…thralls, Deeplings,
necromancers…I’m going to spend a thousand years explaining this to
Grandfather…
 
“Mmhm. Told you I was th’ kinda wizard they shipped off to die before.” Mika
looks unfazed as he glances down, picking apart one hem even further. “Rei says
I got th’ highest death count of anyone else in th’ Academy, so if people are
smart, they’ll be nice to me. Mostly, I jus’ hide, though. People are scary. I
didn’t even really wanna come home, even if th’ tea’s better here an’ th’
weather’s good.”
 
“The weather is hot,” Kaoru corrects. “Makes me want to swim. Guess it’s back
to High Harbor for me after this.” He stands, and pats Mika on the head. “Nice
to meet you, kid. If you ever see me acting like a jerk in public, just play
along, it’s probably on Rei’s orders and I’m an incredibly good actor when I
want to be.”
 
“If you’re ever mean to my Master, I’ll find you,” Mika bluntly says, “an’ make
my ghosties eat you.”
 
“…Okay, thanks, that’s very scary,” Kaoru says cheerfully, and dispels his
Unraveling, banishing it before he waves a cheery goodbye.
 
Not long after he leaves, another knock sounds at the door. Unlike Kaoru, Shu
waits to be answered. “Mika? Can you hear me?”
 
Mika sags with relief, flopping backwards onto the bed as all the composure he
has left quickly dissolves. “Uh huh,” he weakly says. “Come in. Master,
paladins are weird…”
 
Shu enters, immediately walking to Mika, taking his face in delicate hands,
only to feel the sudden, discordant clang of screeching violin strings in his
head. It’s not sex, he thinks firmly, annoyed, and the noise doesn’t quite keep
him from holding Mika’s face to his chest. “You’re all right, good, I can
breathe.”
 
“Nhh, ‘course I’m all right,” Mika mumbles, squishing himself close. “You’re
all…tense, though. And sweaty. What’s goin’ on, no one’s tellin’ me anythin’
and a weird guy just came to talk to me…”
 
“He’s here. My lord.” Shu glows with relief, the bond between him and Rei
thrumming with joy. “It’s over. We’re going home.”
 
“…But—“ It’s a relief to know that Rei’s here, but at the same time… “I can’t
leave yet, I still got stuff to do. Master, you should go.”
 
“Don’t be ridiculous, I won’t be going anywhere without you.” Shu pats Mika on
the thigh, more comforting than touching skin to skin when his bond is active.
“What more do you have to do that you can’t entrust to Rei?”
 
“There’s still kids to go and find—he ain’t got time for that,” Mika mutters,
frowning up at Shu. “If I don’t, no one’s gonna. Even Adonis, he doesn’t like
dealin’ with the kids, it makes him too sad…”
 
“You’re not thinking ahead,” Shu says gently. “Rei is going to end the entire
slave trade, those children will be found and saved, he’s not going to leave
the Sandlands with no plan in place. What could you do, by yourself?”
 
“I…I dunno, I jus’ wanna stay an’ be able to help…” Mika glances down,
fidgeting, nervous. “Does he know…about my mom?”
 
“He knows.” Shu thinks for a moment, then says, “I think you’d be quite useful,
given how good you are with children, and how fluent you are in Sandtongue
culture as well as the language. I’ll ask Rei about setting up a halfway house
for the kids that they find, and letting you run it, perhaps halfway between
here and the Capital?”
 
“Mm, I’d do that. But right now,” Mika insists, grabbing at Shu’s hands.
“Master—he’s gonna do somethin’, isn’t he? Somethin’ big? I wanna be here to
help.”
 
“He’s going to do something big,” Shu confirms, “and I have no idea how your
particular sort of magic would interact with it. So can’t we agree it’s best
for you to not be here?”
 
“Wouldn’t it be better to have two powerful wizards down here? Just in case?”
 
Shu gives him an arch look. “You think my lord has underprepared? Or that we’re
the only ones here?”
 
“…if his fancy paladin thing is what he’s got here helpin’ him, then yeah, I
think he’s a little…understaffed.”
 
“You were unimpressed,” Shu guesses.
 
“He got real nervous when I told him I was a necromancer. That’s how I know
he’s got no balls.”
 
“Excellent,” Shu says, mostly to himself. “No reason to worry, then. Never
mind, never mind. But there are others, my lord has his preparations in place.”
 
Mika falls silent, sitting back onto the foot of the bed. His ribs throb, his
head hurts, the idea of a soft, comfortable bed with Arashi squishing him down
into it sounds so nice…
 
Tears prick into his eyes, and he sniffles as he glances aside. “I want to go
home,” he quietly says. “But…but if I leave now…it f-feels like it’s half-
finished, I didn’t even really do anythin’…”
 
“Mika…” Shu’s eyes crinkle at the sides, a first sign of aging even in a
wizard, and he reaches out to fluff Mika’s hair. “You saved those children.
That’s hardly nothing. And you learned quite a bit about the trade down here, I
wouldn’t have been able to do anything without your aid.”
 
“That’s n…not enough.” Mika’s fingers twist up in his lap, his breath
hiccuping. “I wanna fix it for real. If we don’t this time, it’s jus’ gonna be
impossible next time…ain’t like the king cares, ‘cept when nobles are involved
and he’s gettin’ yelled at, so we gotta—“
 
“What exactly do you think Rei is going to leave?” Shu asks softly. “He’s not
going to come North unless the slave trade is over, I made him promise me.”
 
“Slave trade’s never gonna be over,” Mika mumbles. “So that’s a bad thing
t’promise. It’s gotta be fixed.”
 
“Eh?” Shu blinks, trying to process that. “No, no, certain trades can be
outlawed, it’s quite easy, that’s how they got rid of the hunting of Wavebred
for their scales. How on earth would you fix something so abhorrent?”
 
“Master—“ Mika huffs, pushing his hair back out of his face, only for the curly
mass of it to fall back forward. “I know y’can’t possibly get it, ‘cause you’ve
never…really lived in a place like this, an’ all you’ve seen is th’ bad parts,”
he softly says. “But—slavery don’t have to be a bad thing. When I was a kid…I
would’ve killed to be sold off to a place like this. That was th’ dream. A lot
of people are real happy bein’ slaves. It’s work, they’re fed, they’re
clothed…gettin’ rid of that is gonna ruin a lot of lives. That’s why it’s…it’s
gotta be regulated. It ain’t like huntin’ Wavebred, it can be good.”
 
“But…” Shu wrings his hands, distress coming through in every movement. “You’re
right, I don’t understand. I—how could you want to have no control over your
own life? If we abolished slavery, they’d pay for those services, and servants
are able to leave and seek other employment other places, if they want, isn’t
that better?”
 
“Where they gonna get the money from? People got th’ money to pay for one
slave, not the money to pay wages. If they did pay, it ain’t gonna be enough to
feed that person or their family. That’s why more people sell themselves into
slavery down here than anythin’; the ‘wages’ ain’t payin’ anythin’.” Mika
shrugs, kicking his feet slowly. “If you’re born a whore, ‘specially…there’s
nothin’ else y’can do with your life but that. It’s better to sell yourself
off, send that money t’the family you’ve got, or your kids, and then they’re
taken care of, and you’re a slave, so you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout nothin’ but
your job.”
 
“But it doesn’t have to be like that!” Shu’s frustration leaks through, and he
folds his arms, pursing his lips. “You’re thinking too small. If people down
here can’t afford it, surely anyone wanting work will head away from here. They
need people in the West, how many times have you heard that brute of yours
talking about how they need to settle the wilderness? Wouldn’t most people
rather do that than let people…you know.”
 
“How many times have you seen someone from the Sandlands up north of here?”
Mika softly asks. “They don’t wanna leave. I didn’t.”
 
“What? I thought…they just weren’t allowed to leave. Besides, when you were a
child, I doubt anyone came to speak to you and told you that you could live a
full, productive, happy life, with upward social mobility and complete
autonomy, if you decided to move.”
 
“Slaves can’t, but no one else wants to, either.” Mika sighs, flopping down
onto his back. “‘Cause everyone knows, north of the border, everyone’s a racist
prick an’ it ain’t like most people here can speak common. The prince can’t. No
one’s gonna give a Sandlands wanderer a job outside of scooping horse shit.”
 
“You’re making excuses, because you think it’s easier than trying something
new,” Shu says sternly. “If more of you moved north, no one would have anything
to say about race, because there would be lots of you. And given some of the
things I’ve heard down here, I’d think scooping horse dung would be a vast
improvement over letting some fat, ugly, old, ugly man beat you and relieve
himself on your face.”
 
“I got stick arms. Some guy comin’ on my face is a lot easier than shoveling
horse shit.”
 
“Of course you have stick arms, you’ve never held a shovel in your life. Do you
really think you speak for everyone in the Sandlands when you say things like
that? You’ve seen people have their limbs carved out. I saw a woman cry when
her owner sold her son’s arms. Is avoiding shoveling really worth that?” Shu
hears his voice raise, and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I
don’t mean to shout. I just don’t think an industry that treats people like
products has any good points.”
 
Mika’s mouth twists, and he rolls onto his side, refusing to look at Shu any
longer. “‘Course you don’t,” he mutters. “‘Cause y’don’t get it, and y’think
it’s jus’ gonna stop ‘cause Rei says so. It’s not. That’s why it’s better to
fix it, an’ put some rules on it, ‘cause jus’ stoppin’ it cold turkey ain’t
gonna do shit.”
 
“And you think regulating it will? How?” Shu demands. “How would you fix it?
Really, you know I might be able to get you into the meetings where they
discuss such things.”
 
“If the prince was in charge, he’d understand and do it right,” Mika mutters.
“A board regulatin’ the sales. Contracts that are approved before they get
signed, like…set ones, at auction houses, that outlaw certain things. Th’
ability t’ buy yourself out of a contract, if you really don’t wanna do it
anymore. Stuff like that.” He shakes his head, grabbing up a pillow and
crushing it to his chest. “Talkin’ in front of a lot of people’s scary. I can’t
do that.”
 
“Do you want to sign on as an advisor or something? To the prince, perhaps?”
Shu suggests, turning over possibilities in his mind. “I can work a long-
distance, permanent speaking spell between you and he, and he trusts you.”
 
“…Maybe. Or…or maybe I should jus’…stay here.”
 
Shu closes his mouth. Tears threaten to start in his eyes, so he stands,
looking away, walking to the window and lacing his fingers together behind his
back. “Very well. If it’s so important to you. But where will we live?”
 
“Master—you ain’t gotta stay here. You can’t. Rei’s…he’s not gonna stay here.”
Mika hesitates, then quietly says, “I don’t know…what else t’do. Arashi…he’s
gotta get married. He can’t keep me around.”
 
“You and I can’t be separated, don’t be absurd,” Shu snaps. “What would you do
without me? Think things through before you suggest them, you fool.”
 
Mika’s lower lip wobbles, and tears start to leak from his eyes, no matter how
he tries to stop them. “I…I d-dunno,” he whispers, burying his face down into
the pillow. “I’m sorry. Real sorry. I d-don’t know what else t’do.”
 
“Nonsense,” Shu says briskly, turning from the window to fetch a soft cloth,
dropping it on Mika’s lap. “You know enough that you’re willing to go against
my very good advice not to. If you care this much, it must be important. So
we’ll stay until this is taken care of.”
 
Mika sniffles, plucking up the cloth to wipe at his face, unconcerned about
smearing makeup right now. “Rei’ll be upset,” he says. “He don’t want you to
stay here. It’s…it’s not safe.”
 
“Nowhere is safe.” That much Shu has known for years. “It doesn’t matter. I
would rather be doing meaningful work, and I hesitantly admit that you likely
know more about the Sandlands than I do, and especially about this industry.”
 
Mika hesitates for a moment longer before he lurches forward, throwing his arms
around Shu’s neck and shoving his face down into his chest as he sobs,
trembling all the way down to his toes. “I j-jus’ wanna h-help somehow,” he
whispers. “This is th’ only way I know how, and…an’…it ain’t like I can do
anythin’ else.”
 
“You stop that sort of talk right now,” Shu says, though his voice is soft
rather than stern, and his hands around Mika are gentle. “You can do so many
things. I’m the useless one, lately, just staying up in the tower and making,
what, more dog figurines? I wouldn’t have thought it…but a small part of me
misses our campaigns in the Sharps, saving lives from Berserkers.”
 
“But I can’t even d-do that anymore,” Mika huffs, his fingers curling tight
into Shu’s robes. “‘C-cause I can’t be Arashi’s wizard. He’s gotta get married,
I’m j-jus’ makin’ it harder for him. If I jus’…stay down here, t-then maybe I
ain’t gonna mess anythin’ else up.”
 
Shu goes still, arms tightening. “Is that what this is really about? Are you
afraid to face him? I just found out my lord is married, for love, and has been
for a century, isn’t that awful?”
 
Mika blinks a few times to clear the tears out of his eyes as he looks up at
Shu. “K…kinda sounds like Rei,” he mumbles. “No offense. But he ain’t got rules
about who he’s gotta be married to. Arashi does. An’ I’ve already made things
complicated with Izumin’s kids without meanin’ to, so…so maybe if I stay away,
they’ll all jus’…forget about me.”
 
“Those kids love you, don’t be ridiculous.” Shu says the words, but there’s a
spark of rebellion in his eyes, and he tugs Mika closer. “Let’s have our own.
Find some little child that needs a home and raise her down here, wouldn’t that
be nice? To be a proper lady.”
 
Mika nods, sniffling wetly. “Who came up with th’ idea that wizards gotta be
sterile, huh? I want babies. I’d be good at it.”
 
“You’d be incredible at it,” Shu corrects. “Ah, and don’t worry, Rei and I
agreed to mute the bond whenever one of us wants to…you know. So I’m still
yours, whenever.”
 
“…He’s gonna be cross,” Mika quietly points out. “‘bout the kid thing. ‘Cause
he wants ‘em, too, like. A lot.”
 
“I think all wizards are cross about it, myself included. I would have children
with both of you, and spoil them both rotten.”
 
“No boys,” Mika murmurs, his head thinking down against Shu’s chest again.
“Girls are better.”
 
“Didn’t I say girls? Always girls. They’re more beautiful.”
 
Mika nods, his fingers curling against Shu’s back. “An’ you gotta tell Rei. I
don’t want him to scold me. Scary.”
 
“If he ever dared to say anything to you, I’d end his life,” Shu says firmly.
“Of course I’ll tell him.”
 
“…About stayin’ down here for a bit, too. ‘Cause I can’t leave yet.” Mika
shivers, then shakes his head. “No matter how scary that might get. I can’t.”
 
“I hate this, can’t we just come back once the dust settles?” Shu complains.
“Doesn’t that sound better? Honestly, Mika, do you have any idea what I’d do if
something happened to you?”
 
“Blow up the world?” Mika suggests with a faint smile. “Master…you ain’t gotta
stay. But I do.”
 
“Stop saying that,” Shu says softly, “like I could ever leave you. I stopped
being able to do that when I gave you that eye. You know what it’s made of.”
 
“…Then Rei shouldn’t be upset, either. You know he knows.” Mika sticks his
tongue out, his shoulders sagging. “I’m sick ’n tired of not bein’ able to see,
about not bein’ able to use magic.”
 
“Here. I’ll take care of it, so it’s over.”
 
 My lord. Mika and I are staying in the Sandlands for a while. Maybe raising a
child. Trying to fix the slave trade. Apologies.
 
 Come again?
 
“R…right now?” Mika squeaks, blinking up at Shu. “I..is that okay? I’m all
leaky, the ghosties might do stuff, is Rei really okay with that? It won’t mess
anythin’ up?”
 
 Shu, I’m coming to where you are and we’re discussing this.
 
 I won’t leave where he is, Rei. We’re a set. You know that. You talking to me
won’t change it.
 
“Doubtless he’ll want to reseal you,” Shu says with a sigh. “Ah, he’s on his
way.”
 
It’s through the window that Rei slithers in before Mika has a chance to even
argue about that further. Reflexively, Mika scuttles behind Shu—less at Rei’s
presence, more at the addition of another presence when he can’t really see it.
“What’s this about you two staying down here?” he asks, arms folding across his
chest. “When we just spoke, Shu, and you were extremely enthusiastic about
returning home?”
 
“You know very well,” Shu says with a shrug, “that it isn’t this place I
detest, it’s the act of espionage, at which I am very terrible. I can’t
convince Mika to come home, therefore, I’m here. Sorry, my love.”
 
“What do you mean, you can’t convince him?” Rei deadpans. “Tell him you’re
going. He’ll go. Mika?”
 
Mika shakes his head firmly, even as he hides behind Shu and clings to the back
of his robes. “I c-can’t.”
 
Rei exhales a long, frustrated breath, briefly shutting his eyes. “I’ve been
planning things,” he patiently says, “around the assumption that neither of you
would be here. For your safety.”
 
“Mika also,” Shu says with a smile, reaching over to pat Rei’s hands, “has some
ideas about how we should restructure. And some ideas about protecting people
while you do whatever it is you’re planning. You know, so to avoid the mass
diaspora of unskilled workers into stable economies, since that never ends
poorly.”
 
“There’s nothing to restructure until I can get rid of the source of the
problem—which will be very dangerous, and therefore, neither of you need to be
here for that,” Rei firmly says. “You can come back after we’re doing clearing
out the trash. Arashi and Izumi are coming to escort you both personally.”
 
Mika freezes at that, and shifts nervously behind Shu. “I don’t want Arashi to
see me like this,” he hisses. “Why—why is he comin’? I thought he had to go…get
married an’ stuff…”
 
“It seems as though Sena scooped him up from the West personally, so they’re
both coming.” Rei spreads his hands. “Any other topics that need addressing?”
 
“Yes,” Shu says, confused as he turns to face Mika. “Why don’t you want him to
see you like this, you look very beautiful. I put that outfit together myself,
and I take full responsibility for your hair.”
 
“Yes,” Shu says, confused as he turns to face Mika. “Why don’t you want him to
see you like this, you look very beautiful. I put that outfit together myself,
and I take full responsibility for your hair.”
 
“B…because…” Mika glances away, anxiety making him fidget. “I don’t want him to
think I’m beautiful,” he quietly says. “I want him to forget about me…so I
don’t cause him anymore problems.”
 
“Ridiculous,” Shu says, and promptly grabs a blanket and flips it over Mika’s
head. “I don’t want to hear any more nonsense. Good reasons only. You are a
delightful human being, and I don’t want to hear about anyone being better off
without you. Rei, how far away do we need to be? How long it this supposed to
take?”
 
“I want you out of the country.” Rei folds his arms over his chest, a frown on
his face. “I don’t know for how long, which is why I wanted you out entirely
and back home by the end of the week for you to relax and not be concerned
about it any longer.”
 
Mika immediately huddles down underneath the blanket, turning into a ball
underneath it. “I don’t wanna go.”
 
“I’m not going to force him,” Shu says with a shrug. “Rei, I assume that
whatever you’re doing is going to leave the population of the Sandlands alive
and well, or you wouldn’t condone it any more than I would. How unsafe could it
possibly be?”
 
“This was a non-issue half an hour ago,” Rei exhales, raking a hand back
through his hair as he turns away. “I will teleport the two of you out of here
and back to the Academy if I have to,” he threatens. “Please do not make me do
that.”
 
“I have no doubt that you would love to do that,” Shu assures him, “but you
have not perfected that spell yet. Are you really willing to test it on me?”
 
“…I’m going to give you until the end of the day to discuss this, and figure
out a solution that does not involve the two of you staying anywhere nearthe
palace,” Rei flatly says, turning back towards the window. “Either way, the
Kingsguard is on their way, and will be escorting you.”
 
Shu folds his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing. “The more you prevaricate
about what you’re going to do,” he says, voice clipped, “the less inclined I am
to do as you say. I will not be party to a genocide, Rei.”
 
“The only ‘genocide’ that will be occurring is amongst the slavers, and I won’t
hear any arguments about that,” Rei firmly says. “I don’t care what kind of
reform you want to see happen here—it can’t begin with the slave traders that
are currently grinding this country to the ground.”
 
“Right,” Shu says patiently, “but in that case, the addition of trained,
competent, battle-experienced wizards can only help you. Please don’t forget
that. Mika and I are hardly incompetent, wilting wallflowers.”
 
“You hate warfare, Shu. This is going to be a battleground. I won’t expose you
to that again if I can help it. I have Kanata, and I have several enhanced and
other capable humans here to help me. Go. Home.”
 
“Go home and dance in the flowers?” Shu asks, heat rising in his face as he
stands, facing Rei head-on. “I started this because Mika asked me to, but now
I’m starting to wonder if that’s all you think I’m good for!”
 
“I know exactly what you’re capable of!” Rei snaps, his own temper flaring as
he turns back towards Shu. “But you are the one that has told me time and time
again that you hate being at war, you hate fighting, and violence, and
everything that entails—so is it any surprise that I would do everything to
keep you away from that?”
 
“Yes, I hate it! I hate it!” Shu’s hands ball into fists, and his power simmers
under his seal, threatening to boil over. “I hate it...more than anything! I
hate the death, and the horror, and the smell, and the looks on everyone’s
faces—but Rei, my love, my lord…” He rests a hand on Rei’s face, their skin
equally pale. “I love Mika. And I love you. And he won’t leave, and you won’t
either. Where else would I belong, that I could do any good?”
 
Rei diverts his gaze as he sighs deeply, frustrated, concerned, before he
reaches up, grasping Shu’s wrist and pressing a kiss to his palm. “I don’t want
you near that battlefield,” he calmly says. “That’s final. If you won’t make
that decision, I will do it for you.” If Mika won’t leave, then at least take
him out of the city. Please, I’m not trying to fight with either of you, I just
need you both to stay safe.
 
Bonds are bad, Shu decides, as he fairly melts at the gentle touch, eyelids
lidded as he nods. I’ll make up an excuse if I must. I don’t want to be here. I
just don’t want to leave when I could help both of you. I would rather do
anything than lose you.
 
“…Good.” Rei leans forward, pressing a kiss to Shu’s forehead as well. I have
it handled on my end. Focus on Mika. Keep him safe. That’s what I need you to
do. “Contact me later with your plan. Do not unseal him until you’re somewhere
safe.”
 
“Anywhere I seal him becomes less safe automatically,” Shu says dryly.It would
be so much easier to relax and ease his worries if you told me your plan…
 
The less you know, the safer you’ll be. I’m sorry, love. His mother is a large
concern, though—I can tell you that much. “I trust you to figure it out,” Rei
says. “Just don’t let his little ghosties release themselves onto the
population, obviously.”
 
“Mika doesn’t want that any more than I do,” Shu assures him. I hate this.
Expect to make it up to me for quite a while. “When exactly is everything
expected to, ah, go pear-shaped?”
 
“You have about…twenty-four hours.” Rei smiles, and bends down to kiss Shu
firmly. I’m planning on it.“Please. Please, just stay safe. I’ll contact you
when your escorts arrive—and you can boss them around however you like, so long
as you aren’t here.”
 
A brisk rap on the door is followed by the stroke of a fingertip through
spells, dissolving them into fizzling white light. “Oi, Rei,” Kaoru’s voice
comes, cheerful yet guarded. “I got something you need to see. Come be my
bodyguard for a while.”
 
“Just a minute.” Rei presses a final kiss to Shu’s forehead. I promise, I’m
taking care of everything.He steps back, shifting forms effortlessly, and Rei
opens the door with a bow of his head. “You called, Milord?”
 
 I hate that body. So brutish. Leave it on next time we make love.
 
“Oh, and Mister Toymaker? Some court lady’s looking for you,” Kaoru informs
Shu, and then walks off with a wink, expecting Rei to fall in line behind him.
 
Shu purses his lips, turning to Mika. “I suppose I’m being summoned by my Lady.
She’s awful, you know. I can’t wait until Rei…does what he must do. Meet me
here at sundown, we’ll make a plan.”
 
 Are you serious? This is what you like now? Delightful.
 
Mika sullenly nods underneath his blanket, and curls up underneath it further,
bunched up into a ball on the floor and obviously having no desire to move from
that spot.
 
“Did you have a good time with the ladies, Milord?” Rei casually asks as he
follows at Kaoru’s heels. “You look…refreshed.”
 
“The Sandlands certainly are hospitable, eh?” The tightness around Kaoru’s eyes
says volumes about what he’s seen. “Everything’s proceeding well with my
business. Should be good to go quite soon, eh?”
 
Rei’s head inclines. The idea of Shu and Mika being still here throughout any
of this sets his teeth on edge, but all he can do now is trust that Shu will
leave. “After the afternoon I’ve had, we’re more than ready to go,” he says.
“Let’s go meet up with our friends, they should be arriving soon.”
***** Chapter 49 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Mika, now all by his lonesome, frets in his chambers.
 
Hajime’s startled squeak follows, combined with the clatter of dropped teacups
as he bolts backwards in surprise. Mika, pacing restlessly, plucking and
pulling at the draping hems of his sleeves until they’ve absolutely unraveled,
pauses, blinking, and peers around the corner of the open-air doorway as if he
can actually see anything.
 
Except, this time, the colors and aura reflecting off of the person is so
bright that even Mika can see it, blurry vision and all.
 
“Your…Majesty?” he manages, stepping around Hajime’s hasty attempts to tidy up
spilled tea. “Why are you here? Is Izumin here?”
 
“What? Who?” It’s strange enough that there’s a Sandlands courtesan where Leo
had expected open ground, but much weirder to hear her talk to him in that
breathy voice, to realize that he knows who Leo is, and to hear him refer to
Izumi in that same way that Mika always had—
 
Leo falls back on his rump, eyes wide as he stares up at the courtly, perfumed
vision that is his lover’s lover. “Wahaha! You look so different! Beautiful,
but so weird!”
 
“T…thanks, I think,” Mika mumbles, rocking back onto his heels as he nervously
shifts, eyeing Leo as he tries to process what he can see. “You look different.
Like—like Rei.” That’s how he knows his own seal is starting to leak
again—being able to see anything magically is stressful when he can’t control
it.
 
“Ehhh, really?” Leo stares, still unable to wrench his eyes away, then laughs.
“Maybe it rubbed off, I saw him just yesterday. You’ve done so well, I heard
you saved a bunch of kids! I have a present for you, too!” Please like me
please like me please like me please like me.
 
Mika blinks back at him until staring hurts, and he glances away, trying to
shake it off. “I’m just doin’ what I was supposed to do.” Weird, weird. That’s
so much of Rei’s magic, that’s not just something rubbing off. “Um…a present?
Now? That’s kinda…”
 
Hajime, recovered now from his spill, tentatively grabs for Mika’s elbow. “We
should really get going, Excellency,” he whispers. “If we don’t, Master Nito
will be annoyed and it’ll be more difficult to leave.”
 
Mika hesitates, then gloms onto an idea that’s definitely stupid, but bound to
be more productive than hopping aboard a caravan back to the Academy.
Sorry,kara, Izumin. I haven’t done enough yet.“Are y’here ‘cause of the trade
now, too?” he abruptly says instead, shrugging Hajime off as he steps closer to
Leo. “There’s more kids I couldn’t get my hands on.”
 
“Tell me where they are,” Leo says immediately. “Anything you know. Rei and
them think it’s okay to save most people, but I won’t be satisfied until I save
every single person I can, you know! I’ll go get them myself if I have to.
Right after I duel Wynne, that coward.”
 
“I’ll take y’to them.” Mika pauses. “And Lord Wynne. I know where he likes to
fuck his gross wife durin’ the day.”
 
“No—no, you can’t,” Hajime frantically protests, clinging to Mika’s arm. “We’re
supposed to be going—you know it’s not safe here anymore, Excellency—“
 
“Mmhm, an’ so Master should go an’ so should you,” Mika says patiently,
shrugging Hajime off again. “C’mon, Majesty. You wanna beat up Lord Wynne for
Izumin, right?”
 
“Yes! If possible, I do want him to suffer before dying,” Leo agrees, tapping
the hilt of his sword. He looks at the small blue-haired girl, frowning. “Have
I met you? Am I supposed to know who you are?”
 
“S-s-someone like you would never know someone like me, Your Majesty!” Hajime
squeaks, scuttling back. “I—I—I’m going to go tell Master Nito that you’re
doing this!”
 
“Ahh…we better go, before Master hears about it and stops me,” Mika sighs,
turning his head after the pitter-patter of Hajime’s feet hurrying from the
room. “Mmnn, umm, this is a weird request, though—can I touch you?” He lifts a
painted hand, wiggling his fingers. “Jus’ for a second.”
 
Leo’s head tilts so far to the side his ear nearly touches his shoulder.
“Eh…why does everyone want to do that lately? First Rei, then you…what kind of
weird vibe am I putting out?” Nevertheless, he extends a hand, palm-down, as
slowly as if he’s trying to pet a baby deer, something as easily-spooked as
he’s always felt Mika is.
 
“I dunno why Rei wanted to, but I jus’ wanna see if…” Mika hesitates, then goes
for it, reaching forward to touch Leo’s palm with the tips of his fingers.
 
The reaction is instantaneous, and Mika jerks back with a gasp. The world snaps
into sharp clarity around him, and he flinches, cringing and squeezing his
right eye shut. “Ow, ow, ow—ahh, that stings,” he complains, lifting a hand to
scrub at his eye. Sounds flood back as quickly as sight—the thudding of hearts
he can’t even see, the strange way that magic moves through the Sandlands, the
little, humming artifacts Shu has left about the room for protection—and Mika
slowly forces his eye to open again, blinking a few times before it stops
watering and blinks back at Leo as bright, strange gold again. “Ah. There it
is. Ooh, that’s soo illegal.”
 
Leo’s head flops over to the other side, other ear on shoulder. “Eh? You can’t
just do something like that and not tell me what’s going on, huh? C’mon, let me
know! What’s wrong with me? What stings, huh?”
 
“He’s got a magic cancelin’ barrier on you,” Mika half-heartedly explains,
blinking a few more times to make his eyes—well, eye—adjust to actual sight
again. “Nnn, so weird, I haven’t been able to see in months…mmn, anyway, it
recognized Master’s magic an’ slurped it right up. It’s toootally illegal to
put that kinda stuff on people, ‘cause, uh…ah, never mind, that part’s probably
not important.”
 
Leo shrugs. “He was helping me, I think. I’m gonna believe it’s a help, anyway,
since I feel so much better!” The idea of Rei having ulterior motives isn’t
exactly new, but he had hoped it had calmed down a bit after they’d started
working together more closely. At least, it’s hard to believe that he would do
something bad for no reason. “Anyway, I really do have an important present for
you later, okay? It was suuuper hard to get, so don’t let me forget to give it
to you. Right after we save everyone, and after I kill Wynne. Ahh, scheduling
is so much…”
 
“It’s definitely, uh, some kinda help,” Mika settles upon, frowning at Leo
before he turns away. “You ain’t gotta get me anythin’,” he dismisses, pulling
open a drawer and pocketing one of the knives Hajime likes to tuck into odd
places around his room. “You should worry more ‘bout Izumin and less about
other people.”
 
“I do,” Leo assures him earnestly. “Ah, it’s a little late to say not to get
you anything when I already did, right? Right? Anyway, take me to Lord Wynne,
this has waited way too long, I can’t do right by Izumi as long as that
bastard’s alive.”
 
Mika side-eyes him for a moment longer before he nods, more or less accepting
that as a response for now. “Kara might already be there an’ killin’ him,” he
lightly warns, pulling aside the curtain to his door and flipping the latch on
it. He catches a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror—yikes, it’s just so
weird—and he tries to brush that off, letting his hair fall in front of his
gold eye. “You’re slow.”
 
Leo’s mouth falls open, and he grabs Mika’s wrist, tugging him towards the door
with not inconsiderable strength. “Then hurry, hurry!! I made a promise, I
can’t let someone else take it from me!”
 
Mika squawks, dragged after Leo in short order and tripping over his own
draping silks. “Then y’should’ve taken care of it earlier!” he protests, hiking
them up to trot after him and keep up. “You’re gonna draw too much attention
runnin’, I’m still supposed t’be under cover, y’know? Ahh, turn right down this
hall, we gotta get out of th’ prostitutes’ side of the palace.”
 
“I couldn’t do it earlier,” Leo explains, ignoring the rest of Mika’s
protestations. “He refused my duel on a matter of honor, and since I didn’t
have any evidence, I couldn’t push it without alienating his whole homeland.
Then the bastard ran away before I could kill him quietly!”
 
“You coulda. You jus’ didn’t want to, ‘cause it’d be inconvenient.” Maybe
that’s harsh, but Mika supposes he’s past mincing words. “You really wanna be
everyone’s friend, don’t you? Kings don’t get t’do that.”
 
The words hit Leo like stones dropping into a pond, and lines of pain appear at
the corners of his eyes. “Not everyone,” he says softly. “Just the ones I love.
Ahh, but if people hate me, there’s no helping it, for most of the world. As
long as I do the right thing for the country, that’s what matters. That’s…how I
used to think, before three years ago.”
 
Mika pulls himself to a halt, digging in his heels firmly. “The way you act, it
looks like you want everyone in every country t’like you, no matter what,” he
lowly says. “I hope it’s different now than it was three years ago. Lettin’
people get away with bad stuff that happens to th’ ones you love, that ain’t
any way to in love with someone, let alone be king.”
 
Leo falters to a stop, then turns to face Mika, eyes shadowed. “Who would you
choose to be born?” he asks suddenly, eyes bright and intent. “If you had your
choice to be born with any parents you could possibly choose.”
 
“…I’d be th’ daughter of some nobles, just rich enough to be noticed by new
noble families, maybe. And jus’ noble enough to be listened to in court.” Mika
frowns back at him, unmoving. “Because no one wants to marry a whore, or listen
to what one’s got to say. No one wants t’be king, either, especially one like
your shitty dad, but—ugh, never mind, you’re gonna do what you wanna do.”
 
That dismissive attitude—like he’s going to be hurt by whatever Leo says, no
matter how nicely he says it or how well he means it—makes Leo grind his teeth,
frustrated with his inability to get his feelings across. Mika always does this
to him, somehow, and it makes him want to punch a wall. “Why’d Izumi have to
love someone like you?” he demands, hands clenching at his sides. “It’s so
inconvenient! Annoying!”
 
“Why? ‘Cause I don’t tell you what y’wanna hear every time?” Mika snaps back.
He hadn’t meant to let this escalate, but Leo is so frustrating that biting his
tongue is impossible now. “Izumin thinks you’re s~o good and perfect, and that
everythin’ bad that’s ever happened is his fault—you’re the one that couldn’t
stand up to that Emperor, and would’ve rather jus’ kept followin’ his lead
forever instead of doin’ your job!”
 
“Don’t talk about something you don’t understand!” Leo’s voice comes out too-
high, cracked, with a sudden edge of wild pain that surprises even him. “Don’t
forget who finally killed him—even if it’s convenient for you! He—“ His voice
breaks off, and he folds his arms, hoping it looks defiant instead of
defenseless. “You’ve never been bonded. You can’t possibly understand.”
 
“You’re right, I don’t get it.” Mika’s voice, in sharp contrast, is low, and
not without a warning edge to it. “I can’t imagine what it feels like, or felt
like. But I’ve been th’ person left behind ‘cause of a bond before, so I know
how Izumin feels.” His fingers twitch before curling up into the hems of his
sleeves. “You make it even worse now ‘cause you try so hard to be ‘the good,
neutral king.’ Sometimes you gotta play favorites, you idiot. If you ain’t
gonna, how’s he supposed to know he’s still someone special t’you? You’re
bonded, you’re the king—you’re a million times further away from him than you
ever were before an’ y’act like it’s still the same! That’s why you piss me off
so much.” He huffs, sniffling a little now that he’s fired up enough to start
tearing up. “You say you’re here to duel Lord Wynne ‘cause he’s done somethin’
you can finally catch him for—bullshit. If y’aren’t tellin’ him straight to his
stupid face and the rest of th’ world that it’s for Izumin’s honor, jus’ let
kara handle it. You’re in the fuckin’ Sandlands. Who cares about your stupid
capital rules here?”
 
Leo freezes, his heart thudding, pumping emotions through his veins. Sick guilt
floods through him, melting into indignation, then shame. “I…isn’t that worse?”
he asks, sounding lost. “Wouldn’t—wouldn’t everyone hate a king that did that
kind of thing? Wouldn’t Izumi hate me for making it all public? I know he said
he wanted it, but he always tells me to do things he doesn’t really want me to
do, you know that.”
 
Mika exhales a long breath, briefly closing his eyes to collect himself.
There’s no use snapping back and letting his temper get the better of him when
it sounds like Leo’s actually trying to listen to him for a change. “He’s
dumb,” he finally, bluntly says. “He doesn’t know what he wants, most of th’
time. But see, you missed the chance t’be subtle about it, and kill ‘em in
secret. It’s been years, Majesty; now you gotta make a point about it, ‘cause
monsters like Wynne…they don’t even remember.” He sucks in a sharp breath
before pressing forward to add one last thing: “And ain’t he supposed t’be your
consort? I know he ain’t a lady, but you’re still supposed t’be protective of
him, right? ‘Cause you ain’t, everyone that hates him in the capital—they see
it as a free pass to do an’ say whatever they want. Why do you think he runs
off with kara all th’ time? He…he feels safer.”
 
“You’re wrong.” Leo clings to that idea, that hope that he’s not completely
wrong in everything he knows about the man he loves. “He’s—he got so angry at
me the last time I put myself in danger to protect him, he doesn’t like it when
I do that. Even now, when I told him I was going after Lord Wynne, he looked
like I’d grabbed him by the lung!”
 
“Of course he’s gonna get mad, he’s always gonna get mad!” Mika exasperatedly
says, and he reaches out, hesitating for a second before he grabs Leo’s hands,
squeezing them tightly. “He’s never gonna say it, ‘cause he’s so stupid and
prideful, but it hurts his feelings when you don’t stick up for him. I get it,
you’re the king, but you’ve gotta. If you aren’t gonna stick up for the one you
love…” Mika shrugs helplessly. “Wouldn’t you, if he was your queen?”
 
Leo opens his mouth, then closes it again. He thinks about that for a while,
probably longer than Mika had expected, and lets out a slow, shaky breath.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “I would. I wish he’d let me protect him like a queen.
But what about his pride, as a member of my Kingsguard, and as a noble, and as
a man? I don’t want to take that from him, either.”
 
“I’m not sayin’ there’s one way to go about it that’s right or wrong.” Mika
sighs, shutting his eyes. “But what I am sayin’—he’s not hidin’ that you two
are together. I think he understands that some people are gonna be stupid about
it by now. You gotta back him up, or he…he’s jus’ gonna be left out in the
cold, y’know, and it’ll be so much worse, and he ends up looking like…like he’s
jus’ your bedwarmer, and you don’t really give a shit.” He squeezes Leo’s hands
firmly. “And with this stuff, with Lord Wynne…he asked y’to take care of it.
You gotta do it in a way that’s gonna mean something now.”
 
The words make sense, unfortunately. Leo squeezes Mika’s hands, huffing out a
breath. “See, this is why we need to be close friends, you know? You’ll say
things to me that other people don’t. And I need to hear them.”
 
“…I’d talk t’you more, but—“ Mika hesitates, then sighs, hanging his head.
“You’re so loud. I’m not good with people like that…”
 
“What if…I whisper?” Leo lowers his voice, shifting closer, looking earnestly
into Mika’s mismatched eyes. “I really want you to like me, you know? You’re so
special to Izumi, and he’s…he’s the reason I’m alive.”
 
“It’s not like I hate you or anythin’,” Mika mumbles, suddenly self-conscious.
He fidgets, glancing down. “You’re jus’—a lot—an’…and I’ve seen him cry over
you so I get defensive. I ain’t got a lot of people, y’know? I wanna take care
of the ones I’ve got.”
 
“You’ve got me.” Leo lets go of Mika’s hands, and gently musses his hair.
 
“Mm.” Mika huffs, ducking out from underneath Leo’s touch and half-heartedly
attempting to smooth his hair back down. “Good luck, Majesty.”
 
Running into Lord Wynne himself is not how Mika wants to finish up his day.
Instead, he leaves Leo to his own task, escaping back towards his quarters.
Even that seems…stressful, not private enough, especially with the whole palace
a-flutter, and he slips out the back of them into the open courtyard, arms
wrapped about himself as he tries to catch his breath, tries to think, tries to
breathe.
 
With his seal gone, the world is too bright and too colorful. The courtyard is
mostly empty except for what appears to be someone wrestling with their pet
dog, which he decides to ignore until a flash of gold hair draws his attention.
Mika blinks, head tilting, and he slowly drifts closer, peering over the thorny
hedges surrounding the tiled ground.
 
That’s…that’s a snog.
 
Not only is it a snog, but it’s Arashi with a snog. He stares, open-mouthed,
wide-eyed, and unable to move. He’s hallucinating. The rush of magic coming
back to him is too much, maybe even the heat after so long without it, or maybe
the stress. There’s no way it could be Arashi…and a snog.
 
“Come on, Boots, we’ve been through this! You’re supposed to be on your best
behavior, you’re about to meet your master! And you’re going to be nice to him,
a lot nicer than all other animals, yeah? Because otherwise, your name is going
to be a fucking prophecy, you piece of shit monster, I’m going to skin you—“
 
Arashi growls every time the horrible beast lashes him with that awful spiny
tail, which he catches on his thick leather vambraces. With one hard wallop
behind the ear-spines, the awful creature subsides, sitting mutinously at his
feet. “That’s better,” Arashi says, brushing his sweat-damp hair back from his
face, wrapping the leash tightly around his hand. “Now, time to climb up to—“
 
He looks around, and his voice dies in his throat.
 
He’s never seen Mika primped and combed, properly adorned with lacy veils and
gauzes and bangles. He’s never seen Mika’s hair corralled by jewels and bands,
or his skin brushed with golden glitter. His breath catches in his chest, and
he takes one, trembling step forward. “Amaka,” he whispers, eyes glimmering.
 
And then Boots takes the opportunity to try and break from him, yanking
horribly against the leash. “No, you monster! You be nice to him, I’ll eat your
family!”
 
Boots, as he’s so named, lurches forward, yanking the leash out of Arashi’s
hand in one last, horrifically strong pull. He hisses, lunging forward, tail
lashing, spines flaring—
 
…before he simply slows to a trot in front of Mika, sits down, and all of the
spines retract, creating a smooth, scaly texture down the creature’s back
instead.
 
Mika blinks rapidly, too stunned to even speak. “K…kara?” he manages, looking
between the snog, then Arashi, with tears slowly welling up into his eyes.
 
Arashi stops dead, eyes wide, staring at the awful creature currently wagging
its tail. “That…um, he’s a present,” he says lamely, then breaks into a run,
vaulting directly over the stupid snog and grabbing Mika by the waist, whirling
him around. “Amaka, amaka, I’ve missed you so much!”
 
Mika’s arms fasten to Arashi’s neck, clinging there relentlessly as he hides
his face into that strong, broad chest. “Kara,” he whispers again, trembling as
he clings, dangling half a foot off the ground when Arashi holds him. “I c-
can’t believe you’re here…”
 
Sharp teeth sink into Arashi’s ankle, and he yelps, setting Mika down to scowl
back at the snog. “Oh. And this is Boots, he’s for you. The king sent him, me
and Izumi trained him. We thought, you know, you love him so much…but if he
hurts you, I will turn him into—why’s he putting his spines away? I didn’t even
know they could! Do you have any idea how many times I’ve hurt myself on
those?”
 
Mika blinks away his tears, trying to keep them further at bay so that he
doesn’t mess up his makeup—again—and he looks down at the snog, entranced.
“B…Boots?” he echoes, his brow furrowing. “That’s a bad name, kara.”
 
“Who cares, you’re beautiful,” Arashi whispers, then shakes his head, glaring
down at the snog. “It’s to remind him of what he’s going to become if he’s mean
to you. Er, actually, I think it was because the king thought his foot spines
were a lighter shade of, um, scale?”
 
“…He needs a way cuter name,” Mika mumbles, not quite able to meet Arashi’s
eyes as he distracts himself with the snog. He crouches down, extending a
tentative hand, in which the snog promptly opens his snarling, venom-dripping
mouth—and extends a strange split tongue to lick him like a dog.
“Like…Cupcake.”
 
Arashi slowly sits down on the ground, folding his legs, slumping down with his
head in his hands. “Of course. Cupcake. Look, he likes you. Of course he does.”
 
Mika slowly pets his hand down the back of Boots-now-Cupcake’s head, and his
eyes widen. “He’s so…soft.I knew it. I knew snogs were soft! Kara, he’s real
soft, I knew it.”
 
“I’ve never seen him do that,” Arashi says, sounding dazed.
 
“Maybe he likes me ‘cause I smell like death,” Mika says sagely. Cupcake slowly
rolls over, like a dog, feet in the air. “Animals know. Especially snogs.”
 
“The king almost died to get you that snog.” Arashi slowly relaxes from his
rigid, terrified certainty that their effort would result in Mika being
poisoned by stupid Boots—er, Cupcake. “Just so you know. Oh, and me and Izumi
have been stabbed by him about thirty times each.”
 
“Neat.” Mika reaches out to toy with one of the snog’s…paws? Feet? Mystery. Its
claws recede as well, leaving nothing but fleshy, scaly pads behind. “He’s
good. I’m keeping him.”
 
“Good. You deserve a pet that knows how good you are.”
 
“He’s got nice feet,” Mika distractedly mutters, squeezing one of Cupcake’s
paws again before he straightens to his feet, smoothing the mess of organza and
jewelry back into place. “U-um…so…you don’t think I look weird?”
 
Suddenly, Arashi remembers his promise to Izumi, and nearly chokes. He sucks in
a breath, and says, before he can chicken out, “You look good enough to spend
the rest of my life with. And I want to. I came down here to ask you, ah…marry
me. Please.”
 
“W…what?” Mika squeaks, abruptly jerking back, eyes wide. “I thought—I heard
you were gettin’ married to a girl!”
 
Arashi stands, brushing off his trousers, and extends a hand, hoping it isn’t
shaking too badly. “She died. They betrothed me to another one, but…amaka, I
don’t want to marry a girl. I want you. I’ll change the laws, and if they don’t
like it, I’ll quit and join the Kingsguard like Izumi. If…if you want me.” I’m
afraid he’ll say no, he had told Izumi, and the fear is real now, so real his
ankles are trembling.
 
Mika bites at one rouged lip, trembling even more than Arashi as he slowly
extends a hand, painted fingers curling against Arashi’s palm. “I don’t…want
you to lose everythin’, ‘cause of me,” he whispers. “That’s what’ll happen, if
you’ve gotta join the Kingsguard…right? All the land you worked for, your army,
everything…”
 
“And you want me to live a lie forever?” Arashi asks, stepping close, squeezing
that hand, drawing in a shaking breath. “I won’t do it. Even if you say no, I
won’t marry a woman and live that lie. If the king can do it, I can, can’t I?
And if not…I wasn’t a Lord all my life, amaka.”
 
“But the king hasn’t done it,” Mika points out, his fingers shaking as he holds
tightly to Arashi’s hand. “He doesn’t have the balls,” he adds, laughing wetly,
glancing down at where he holds Arashi’s hand, clinging to him. “I g-guess
you’ve got more, but…I…” He sniffs, and wipes his nose with the back of his
hand. “I w-want to. I wanna marry you, but—only if nothin’ bad happens to you,
I couldn’t stand it.”
 
“Bad things kind of always happen to all of us, my dear,” Arashi says with a
watery smile. “But like…what we do, that’s what’s important, right? What we do
after the bad stuff, and how we handle it?”
 
“That’s not fair,” Mika mumbles, sniffling loudly. “I wanted you to go off an’
live happily ever after without havin’ to worry about me anymore.”
 
“…I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Arashi says, grabbing Mika and
crushing his face into his chest. “How could I be happy without you? You’re my
amaka, aren’t you?”
 
Mika trembles, and then promptly clings to Arashi anew, stretching up on tiptoe
to stuff his face into his neck. “I can’t do noble parties an’ stuff like
that,” he whispers. “Is that okay?”
 
“Fuck parties,” Arashi says, hands around Mika, lifting him off of his feet.
“Sweetheart, I’m a Western Lord, not a Capital one. We don’t have parties, we
sit around and drink beer and glare at dice games, I never go anyway.”
 
Mika sniffles as he dangles, bare feet swaying. Cupcake whines—again, just like
a very disturbing dog, complete with a little hiss around the edges—and lets
his big, heavy tail flop against the ground. “Okay,” he whispers. “I wanna
marry you. Like—a lot.”
 
Arashi promptly bursts into tears, falling to his knees to sob into his hands.
“I-I-I really, really th-thought you were gonna say no,” he wails, all of his
anxiety breaking through at last.
 
Mika bites back a squawk, stumbling backwards to blink rapidly down at Arashi.
“W..what?” he manages, eyes wide. “Kara, you’re crazy! Why would I ever say no?
You’re so dumb! Ah, Cupcake, nooo, don’t try to bite him,” Mika begs, lurching
forward to scoop up the snog before he can snap at Arashi’s face. The creature
goes limp when Mika picks him up, tail swishing, tongue snaking out. “Be sweet,
you gotta be sweet.”
 
Arashi wipes his eyes, red and puffy now. “B-but you love your master so much,”
he says, voice wobbling. “A-and, and there’s Izumi, and also you’re a famous
wizard and I’m dumb, I’m a disaster, all I can do is hit things with swords,
you’re so fancy...”
 
“I like that you can hit things with swords real good,” Mika plaintively says,
dropping down to his knees in front of Arashi, Cupcake the snog cradled against
his chest. “Kara…I love my master, you’re right, but he’s got Rei, y’know? And
Izumin’s got the king, right? I ain’t that famous, I jus’ killed a lot of
things, ’s not like I’m a Nightcloak, I…” His lower lip wobbles again. “Kara,
don’t cry, I’ll cry again, master’ll get mad if I mess up my make up again…”
 
“Is that beast getting smaller the more you cuddle it?” Arashi asks,
suspicious. “And are you accepting? I’m your husband, right? You want me, you
want me to be your husband?”
 
“Eh? I dunno—I mean, I definitely wanna marry you,” Mika huffs, squeezing the
snog again. Cupcake gurgles. “But I dunno if he’s gettin’ smaller. If he does,
he’s gonna be cuter.”
 
Regardless of the snurfling creature in Mika’s arms, Arashi leans in close and
kisses him soundly, fingertips touching under Mika’s chin to tilt it up. “You
made me so happy,” he whispers. “I love you so much. Is there…a way to say that
in Sandtongue? That would make you happy?”
 
Mika’s face flushes hot, and he shakes his head firmly, glancing down. “If you
say it in Sandtongue, then it won’t be the same,” he murmurs. “I want a
handsome foreigner to steal me away and marry me.”
 
“Is that the fantasy, in every little Sandland child’s life?” Arashi asks with
a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind Mika’s ear. “To have a handsome
foreign lord as a client, then be carried off and married? I can make that
happen.”
 
“It’s the fantasy for dumb people,” Mika softly says, glancing up nervously
through his lashes. “I…always kinda dreamed about the kinda thing I’m fakin’
right now.”
 
“To be a fancy whore to kings?” Arashi sighs, leaning back. “I wish I could
make it come true for you. Prostitutes in the West are never so lovely or
revered, or I’d give you that. Mm, but you’re welcome to dress like that as my
foreign lady-husband, really make the hidebound old bastards nervous.”
 
“When I get out of here,” Mika says, very seriously, “I’m never gonna put
makeup on or dress up again. I’m gonna hide in your room and scream.”
 
“Wait, I thought that was your fantasy!”
 
“In the Sandlands.”
 
“Ah. Okay. What’s the Western fantasy?”
 
“Have a snog army.”
 
“Amaka, please, I still don’t even know what they eat.”
 
“I bet it’s bugs.” Mika pets the weird thing, pleased by its gurgling.
“Kara…Rei already told me you’re here to take me home, but I can’t go yet.”
 
“Is that what he said?” Arashi asks, smiling. “I’m here to see you, and to keep
you safe. Wherever you are.”
 
“He said you and Izumin were gonna take us home,” Mika warily says, bouncing
the snog in his arms like it’s his baby. “You’re not tryin’ t’ trick me, are
you?”
 
Arashi snorts. “I don’t care what fancy wizards decide I’m here to do, I’m a
Lord in my own right. And doubtless, Izumi won’t go anywhere without the King,
who’s also down here. Wizards like to make grand plans, but us lowly people who
carry them out are pretty important too, don’t you think?”
 
“I mean…yeah, of course, but…” Mika hesitates, then shakes his head, huffing.
“Fuck it. Rei’s got plans and I don’t like ‘em an’ I wanna stay and do things.
But I’m done bein’ a fancy whore, I wanna go be a wizard again. With an attack
snog.”
 
“Yay! I want to be a very scary, battle-hardened lord with a wizard on my arm,
who definitely has an attack snog!”As long as it doesn’t kill us all in our
sleep. Even if it does…as long as you smile… “What should we do first?”
 
“First things first, we gotta kill my mom.”
 
“Your…is that, um, slang? For like, the person who trained you to be a
prostitute?”
 
“I mean—she did that, yeah, but I mean…my actual mom.” Mika sighs, and sets
Cupcake back down to the ground. He then proceeds to rub and nuzzle up against
Mika’s legs like a cat. “She’s th’ ringleader,” he quietly says. “Can we…go
somewhere else to talk about this?”
 
“You lead the way, love.” Arashi beams. “I have no idea where I am, I’ve only
been down here once, as a soldier.”
 
Mika grabs Arashi’s hand, pulling him along. Cupcake waddles after them,
hissing at every little rustle and flutter of wind. “I saw th’ king,” he adds,
pulling Arashi past the patio of his chambers and inside. “And I told him off.
I think maybe he’s gonna go kill some bad people, and maybe get the balls to
marry Izumin.”
 
Arashi’s eyes go wide, and he grabs Mika’s arm. “Is he in danger? He’s the
king, i he’s throwing himself into danger, it’s my sworn duty to protect him.
Where did he go?”
 
“No,” Mika abruptly says, turning in Arashi’s grasp to look up at him. “You
ain’t goin’ to find him. He’s busy.”
 
Arashi grinds his teeth. “Mika, love, what did you tell him to do? He’s a good
swordsman, but he’s, he’s fragile, he’s not magic or part-anything, you know?”
 
“I didn’t tell ‘em to do nothin’.” Mika scowls up at him. “Lord Wynne’s here.”
 
“Lord Wynne? Oh, excellent, I’ve wanted to kill him for ages, I doubt anyone
will notice one more bastard showing up dead, where is he?”
 
“Kara,” Mika firmly says, latching himself onto one of Arashi’s arms. “Th’
king’s gotta do it. If he don’t, that’s part of th’ problem,an’ he and Izumin
are gonna break up.”
 
“You don’t understand. I swore to Izumi that I’d be the one to hunt them down.
I—“ Arashi scrubs at his face with one hand, frustrated. “I haven’t been
holding up my end. I’ve been, I don’t know, really wrapped up in my own
problems, like an ass. But if he’s here, I’ve got to do something. You
understand that, right, amaka? He…he killed my demons. I can’t give him less
than that.”
 
“Izumin knows you mean it. You’ve killed some of ‘em for him before, you made a
point of it—the king, though, he’s—“ Mika exhales, frustrated, trying not to
stomp his foot. “If he don’t say nothin’, it’s never gonna get better. He’s
gotta chase this guy down an’ tell him why he’s getti’ his ass kicked. You can
have th’ next one; let the king do this one and do it right for once, so he
stops bein’ terrible.”
 
“Do you have sand between your ears?” Arashi demands, hand already on the hilt
of his sword, looking around as if the maze of the palace will part to reveal
Leo somewhere. “Letting him defend Izumi is all well and good, but Wynne isn’t
a lightweight, what if the king dies for this? A country in chaos, your friend
dead, Izumi on the warpath—hell, he’ll probably kill me for letting it
happen—where is he? Just—I’ll let Leo challenge him, then step in as his
champion, that’s best for everyone, right?”
 
Mika’s lips purse. He sits down on the end of his bed, crossing his legs.
Cupcake jumps up onto the bed, snuffling around in the sheets. “Dunno where he
is,” he says. “Kara. If somethin’ happened t’me and you needed t’be the one to
fix it, and you finally were gonna do it but someone else jumped in, you’d be
pissed, right?”
 
“But I need to fix this too!” Arashi protests. “Izumi…he’s special to more than
just one person, you know? I might be marrying you, but I love him too, and I’d
do anything for him. And gods, seriously, what do you think we can do if the
king dies? Don’t you think Izumi would be more upset about that than if Lord
Wynne got away? Ugh, if you won’t help me, I’ll find him myself,” he mutters,
turning and yanking the door open.
 
“It ain’t gonna mean anythin’ if you don’t let the king do it himself!”
 
Mika grits his teeth, his hands fisted against the bedsheets. “If Lord Wynne
kills the king, I think Izumin would at least be happy that he tried to defend
his honor instead of runnin’ away like a weaklin’. If you chase after him right
now, I’m not gonna be here when you get back ‘cause I’m gonna go try and kill
all the slavers myself with Rei!”
 
Arashi’s eyes flash, and he grabs Mika around the waist, tossing him over one
shoulder as he stalks out of the room, prowling like a cat on the hunt. His arm
isn’t tight enough to cause pain, but it is unmovable. “I don’t give a shit if
it means anything or not, at this point,” he growls. “I’m not letting Izumi
turn into a broken shell of a person because you think the king needs to die
for something important. What do you have against him, huh? He’s been nothing
but good to you, he tamed a snog for you!”
 
“Put me down!” Mika hisses, smacking a hand uselessly against Arashi’s back.
Cupcake bounds after them, growling and hissing, spines starting to reappear.
“Kara, put me down—I ain’t got nothin’ against the king, it ain’t like I want
him to die! I talked to him before you showed up, you’re the one bein’ dumb and
not listenin’ t’ me! You gotta let the king do this or nothin’s ever gonna be
right again!”
 
“You don’t know that! As long as Leo confronts him, that’s fine! But I’m not
letting the king die because you think Leo has something to apologize for!”
 
“He thinks he does, you jerk, not me!” Mika kicks and squirms, growling low in
his throat. “But he ain’t wrong! He’s gotta stand up for Izumin for a change,
let everyone know he’s on his side, actually marry him an’ be a man! I’m gonna
scream,” he suddenly threatens. “If I scream, the prince’ll come an’ get you.”
 
“You’re bluffing,” Arashi guesses, stalking through the halls, looking down
every corridor. “You’re supposed to be a whore, right? I’ve heard thirty people
yelling like that since we got here. And the king is an idiot, everyone knows
that! That doesn’t mean I don’t have to protect him!”
 
“I’m the prince’s whore, it’s different,” Mika insistently says, though he
resists screaming—for the time being. “You don’t gotta protect him right now,
kara. Rei’s already got a protection spell on him, he ain’t gonna die!”
 
“Don’t trust it,” Arashi says bluntly. “Better to keep him from dying. He’s
little, don’t you know how big Lord Wynne is?”
 
“Izumin’s little. I’ve seen him dump big scary men on their asses.”
 
“He’s fucking immortal!”
 
“I’m gonna scream.”
 
“Are you going to be my husband or not?” Arashi demands, eyes flashing. “You
think he has something to atone for? I swore a blood pactto protect him, amaka,
I can’t let him die orI’ll die, you know that, right?”
 
“…Put me down,” Mika lowly says, digging his nails into Arashi’s back, “or I’m
gonna scream, and I’m gonna blow everyone’s cover.”
 
“Who cares? We’re here to blow the lid off of the whole thing.”
 
“Not until Rei says so.” Mika sighs, and sags down over Arashi’s back. “I hate
when y’don’t listen to me.”
 
“I’m listening. I am, I promise. But…” Arashi grimaces. “It doesn’t change what
I have to do. I have a duty, you know? To both of them.”
 
“He’s probably already fought an’ killed th’ guy,” Mika finally offers up. “I
showed him where to find Lord Wynne over an hour ago.”
 
“He’s also an idiot that gets lost easily,” Arashi points out. “Show me where
you pointed him….please, I need to. If you’re right, he might be lying in a
pool of blood.”
 
Mika’s mouth purses, and he watches Cupcake, bouncing up on his hind legs to
try and lick at Mika’s face as he dangles. “Take a right up ahead,” he wearily
says. “And keep goin’ for about five minutes. Private quarters are down that
way.”
 
“Five minutes sounds like a challenge,” Arashi says under his breath. “You want
to walk? Go somewhere else? Or is this good?”
 
“Now I get a choice?” Mika deadpans, kicking his feet. “I wanted t’go and tell
you about things, but noooo, you gotta go run off and save the king.”
 
“You can tell me about things along the way, if you can keep up,” Arashi says
cheerfully, and starts striding quickly, turning right where Mika had pointed.
“Lots of things happened up North, too! Ruka changed her hair, Izumi told me
about it.”
 
“No offense, but my conversation’s kinda one that needs to be more…private?”
Mika grumbles. “I’m startin’ t’ remember why I like the south already…”
 
“Arashi?”
 
The familiar voice makes Mika jump, and he blinks, head whipping up in time to
catch sight of Izumi himself, dressed to the nines to look like a proper
Captain of the Kingsguard in spite of the heat. “Where’s that wretched animal?”
he demands, striding towards Arashi. “Did you lose it? You know you can’t let
that—wait, is that Mika? Holy shit.”
 
“He’s there,” Arashi says, nodding down to the weird, slippery creature
following at Mika’s heels without slowing his stride. “Izumi, hey, guess who
said yes! Oh, more importantly, we have to go stop the king from dying. Keep
up!”
 
“What?”
 
Izumi immediately falls into stride with Arashi, barely able to spare Mika (and
the following of Cupcake) a single glance before he’s drilling Arashi with
questions. “What do you mean we have to stop the king from dying?” he lowly
asks. “Since when is Leo here?”
 
“He’s around,” Mika pipes up, a little out of breath as he struggles to keep
up. “Izumin, kara—c’mon, you’re walkin’ real fast and I can’t in all this,
y’know!”
 
Arashi shrugs, then scoops Mika again, tossing him over a shoulder without
pausing. “He’s gone to fight Lord Wynne, which is really rude, since I’m going
to kill him, so let’s just find him before he takes my fun, eh?”
 
Izumi’s mouth falls open. “He’s—what? What the fuck, why is he even here?!”
 
Mika huffs as he falls into place on Arashi’s shoulder again, scowling back
down at Cupcake, who trots along in his merry snog way. “How long have you
known about this?” Izumi demands, grabbing at Arashi’s sleeve. “Did you just
find out? About Leo, about—Lord Wynne?”
 
“I just found out,” Arashi says with a glare at Mika’s ass, walking even
faster, “because someone just saw fit to tell me, and probably killed the king.
Oh, by the way, he said yes! We’re getting married!”
 
“I didn’t kill the damned king,” Mika snaps, lifting his head before letting it
flop back down, hair and jewelry and all. “He wanted to go alone! He was makin’
a point for you, Izumin!”
 
“I don’t have time to deal with this,” Izumi snaps, releasing Arashi with a
shove. “Where are we going? Tell me.”
 
“Private quarters,” Mika pipes up, much more willing to volunteer information
to Izumi. “Up ahead, there’s three doors, he’s gonna be out in one of their
courtyards—“
 
With that, Izumi bolts away, leaving Arashi in his wake.
 
“Why are you being so chatty with him and not me?” Arashi demands, steps
quickening. “He’s going to do the same thing I would!” He walks faster, yanking
the door to the courtyard open, but all he finds is Izumi staring down at a
pile of blood, and the king’s discarded sword on the ground.
 
He sucks in a breath. “Where…who…shit. We have to find him.”
 
Cupcake trots forward, starting to lap at the blood on the ground as if it’s a
delicious treat. Izumi tries not to look as panicked as he feels, trembling as
his fingers stay curled around his own sword, white-knuckled before he crouches
down, plucking up Leo’s sword, and then extends a hand to dip his fingers into
the bloody mess left behind.
 
Then, he licks it, grimacing after he does and spitting it out in short order.
“It’s not Leo’s,” he mutters, straightening to his feet. “Don’t ask me how I
know.”
 
“Creepy,” Mika says, twisting around on Arashi’s shoulder to watch. “Where is
he, then?”
 
“Can’t your snog track it?” Arashi asks, trying not to sound sarcastic, even as
he raises up on his tiptoes, looking around as if he’ll find Leo if he’s tall
enough. “Let’s split up, you want east or west?”
 
“He’s out front, I bet,” Mika says, drumming his fingers against Arashi’s back.
“I told him he needed t’ do it right this time, or not at all.”
 
“Out in the front of the palace?” Izumi repeats, sounding almost frantic. “Why?
What did you tell him to do? He’s the king, he can’t just—do that here!”
 
“’s not like I gave ‘em specifics. Jus’ do what was right.”
 
Arashi wipes the sweat from his forehead, far more from the heat than the
exertion. “What’s the fastest way?” he asks Mika, voice starting to get
frantic. “Is there a wall I can punch through or something? Was the blood still
warm?”
 
“Around the grounds, not through th’ palace.” Mika hoists himself up, pointing
out of the courtyard. “I could try to ask Cupcake t’ track him, but—“
 
Izumi, with even just that little bit of knowledge, is already gone, taking off
at a dead run.
 
“Not fair, I’m definitely handicapped in this race,” Arashi says under his
breath, setting off after Izumi as fast as he can without dislodging Mika on
his shoulder. “What if the king gets arrested, huh? Did you think about that?”
 
Arashi, at least, is a very smooth ride. Mika sinks his nails into Arashi’s
back for support at least, with Cupcake dawdling quite some distance behind.
“He’s the king,” he says, unfazed entirely. “Ain’t nobody gonna arrest him, an’
if they do, he’s got ways out of it.”
 
“Because they always follow all of the Crown’s laws down here?” Arashi demands.
“What if those nobles decide he’s too much trouble after all of this, and just
gang up on him and kill him? Or throw him in a dungeon and pretend they don’t
know who he is? Izumi, go, I’ll catch up!”
 
“People in the Sandlands can tell if a person’s got money, you know!” Mika
snaps, thumping a hand against Arashi’s back. “You guys gotta stop coddlin’
him! If he’s gonna be king, he’s gotta do some work himself!”
 
Izumi ignores them.
 
The idea of Leo fighting a man like that alone—no backup, not another sword in
sight—makes his breath catch. It makes him run faster, dodging around half a
dozen palace guards to get to the front gates, legs trembling as he runs around
the corner, stumbling abruptly to a stop.
 
Lord Wynne, bent and bloody—
 
Leo, with Wynne’s sword in hand, standing over him—
 
“Leo,” Izumi whispers, his fingers shaking as he grips his own sword. Why
didn’t you tell me you were here?
 
Leo straightens up, green eyes blazing, hand and arm firm on the hilt of the
stolen sword. “If I were acting as king, I’d find you guilty,” he says, voice
ringing in the still air of the courtyard. “Of treason, torture, and high
crimes. And I would give you a chance to repent.”
 
He looks up, and meets Izumi’s eyes. “But I’m here as a man.”
 
And the sword he’d wrested away from Lord Wynne plunges through the man’s thick
neck, then jerks swiftly to one side, then the other, and the man’s head hits
the floor a full second before his body.
 
It’s probably in poor taste, the way his heart pounds like a maiden’s watching
some tournament—but that has happened before with Leo, damn him, so this isn’t
that much different…except it means so, so much more.
 
Izumi swallows hard, still for a moment, frozen in place, before his legs
remember how to move, and he’s walking, then running forward, leaping over that
bloody, fallen body to grab Leo up in his arms, burying his face down into that
head of flaming hair.
 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Leo whispers, dropping the sword, wrapping all four
limbs around Izumi as tightly as possible. “It took too long, I was a coward, I
wasn’t good enough—“
 
“Shut up,” Izumi whispers back, hoisting him up and squeezing Leo firmly. “It’s
fine, you idiot, it’s fine—I can’t believe you, why are you here, you didn’t
have to—to do this, you idiot.”
 
“Love you,” Leo says into Izumi’s shoulder. “Love you. I’m sorry I have to be a
king when I should just follow you around and love you all the time.”
 
“Shut up,” Izumi repeats again, this time rather wetly. His hands tremble, and
he squeezes Leo again tightly before slowly setting him down to his feet, and
passing over his previously discarded sword with shaking fingers. “You left
this behind, Your Majesty.”
 
Leo’s face brightens, and he takes the sword, wiping the blade off on the fine
linen of his trousers. “Thanks, I dropped that! He knocked it out of my hand,
so I had to take his, obviously.”
 
“Obviously,” Izumi quietly says, shoulders sagging. “You idiot. How long have
you been here? It’s not safe, you shouldn’t have—“
 
There’s a shout from the guards that have finally caught onto what is going on,
that someone has been killed, and Izumi grabs Leo by the arm, hauling him back
close to the white sandstone walls of the palace, away from the main gate. “And
you feel…strange,” he murmurs, his eyes looking Leo up and down. “I can’t tell
how, but—strange.”
 
“Maybe I’m feeling better,” Leo suggests. He vibrates under his skin a little,
and then says, a bit guiltily, “Sorry to ask, I meant to do this all by myself,
but, uh, do you have any extra energy? I think I got a little stabbed.”
 
“What? Where? Why didn’t you say so immediately?” Izumi hisses, just barely
resisting the urge to shake Leo by the shoulders. “This is why I didn’t want
you down here—you should’ve known better.”
 
“But I had to,” Leo says, huffing as he twists, pulling his shirt up to expose
a bloody gash in one hip. “If I didn’t, Arashi was going to take him from me,
and he had to know why he was dying, you know? Mika…he told me, you know, what
kind of king am I going to be if I don’t fight for the people I love? You most
of all?”
 
“You…are such an idiot,” Izumi mutters, though his voice is fond and his cheeks
faintly flushed as he crouches down. Instead of setting his hands to the wound,
he presses his lips directly to it, in spite of the blood. “Thank you,” he
quietly says.
 
The pain fades, and Leo’s lower lip trembles. “I’m not—I wasn’t afraid he was
going to kill me. That’s not why it took so long. And it—it’s not because I
don’t love you, it’s not! It never was!”
 
“I know.” Izumi rocks back onto his heels as the wound quickly closes,
revealing nothing but smooth, soft skin instead. “Duty,” he softly says,
“really sucks, and we’re both bound by it. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t
hurt.”
 
“You deserve better.” Leo’s eyes sting, and he shakes his head furiously. “But
I’m selfish, you know? So I’m not letting you go, even though you deserve
better. You’re stuck with me.”
 
“It’s obnoxious for a king to say something like that,” Izumi says, forcing
himself up to his feet. “How am I supposed to do better than that, huh?”
 
“Stupid Izumi! Stupid Kingsguard Captain! Stop trying to be better than your
king!”
 
Izumi scowls, folding his arms across his chest. “Trying to be better? Maybe I
am settling. Arashi’s getting married.” He leans forward, eyebrows raised. “So
I have no other options.”
 
“Than to marry me?” Leo tilts his head to the side, then beams. “I accept! What
a good proposal!”
 
Izumi’s mouth opens, then closes, and he grabs Leo by the shoulders again,
firmly shaking him this time. “Don’t say things like that unless you mean it,”
he lowly says. “Leo—you know I’d risk anything for you, but it’s something I’m
not going to go into alone.”
 
Leo sucks in a breath, then shakes his head, raking his hands back through his
hair, ruffling it up. “Sorry. Got carried away. You don’t have to marry me,
Sena. It’s enough that you’re so pretty and you’re here. Hey, maybe we should
get away, there’s been a murder here, after all!”
 
I knew it. Too good to be true, stop thinking he actually wants this.
“Yeah—come on,” Izumi mutters, his heart clenching in his chest as he grabs
Leo’s hand, yanking him away. “I need you to be somewhere safe.”
 
“Nowhere is safe, this is the Sandlands,” Leo says cheerfully, following where
Izumi leads him. “Did he like Boots? He did, right? He knew it was from me?”
 
“Who else could it’ve been from,” Izumi exhales, dragging Leo back the way that
he came. The shouts and screams of guards ring in his ears, and he picks up the
pace. “You need to go back to the Capital,” he lowly says. “I’m taking back one
of the children that was found—you’re coming with me.”
 
“Look, see, kara, he’s fine!”
 
Izumi huffs out a breath at the sight of Arashi and Mika, lurking about, and
with that horrific snog in Mika’s arms, spines still away, tongue snaking in
and out slowly. “Mika—can you take us to your chambers? It’s a safer place to
stash this idiot, I think.”
 
“Probably th’ prince’s, actually,” Mika says, locking eyes with Leo as he
slowly pets the snog. “Did y’kill him?”
 
“Not fast enough or slow enough,” Leo says with a sighs. “But yeah. And then
Izumi proposed, but took it back, so I dunno if we’re still getting married or
not.”
 
“Stop stealing everything from me!” Arashi protests, pouting extremely. “First
you steal my kill, then my proposal day?”
 
“You’re the one that took it back!” Izumi snaps, whirling on Leo. “I told you
that it had to be for real, you just—ugh, forget it!”
 
Mika’s expression slides into something decidedly world-weary, and he turns
around, dragging Cupcake with him. “I ain’t dealin’ with this.”
 
“What are you talking about?”
 
“The fact that you two can’t even get proposed to right,” Mika exasperatedly
says over his shoulder. “Kara, d’you gotta teach ‘em or somethin’?”
 
“Mika said yes,” Arashi gloats, wrapping an arm around Mika, hauling him back.
“Isn’t that wonderful?”
 
Leo rounds on Izumi, hands on his hips. “The right response to saying I’ll
marry you isn’t to get flustered and ask what I mean! I was totally obvious!
Stupid!”
 
“It’s absolutely a valid question when you’ve said you’d do it before, but what
you meant was everything but that!” Izumi hisses back, stepping closer and
leaning over Leo with a scowl. “When I ask for you to marry me, I mean it for
real. Publicly. So everyone knows.”
 
“Good!” Leo snarls, jabbing Izumi’s chest with a finger. “Because that’s how I
meant it! And I started making wedding plans already! Check with my stupid
lawyers, they’ve got the law changes going to my ministers tomorrow, stupid
Izumi!”
 
Izumi stares at him, scowl still in place for a long moment before he lurches
forward, grabs Leo’s waist, and shoves him firmly against the wall in a rough,
possessive kiss.
 
“Maybe,” Mika dryly says, dangling from Arashi’s neck, “we should, uh. Go
somewhere more private?”
 
Arashi watches Leo and Izumi try to suck each others’ lungs out through their
mouths, half-amused, half-confused. “I never know when they’re angry with each
other or happy with each other,” he confesses. “Hey, lovebirds, come on, we’re
going to get discovered out here, you know?”
 
Leo just flutters a dismissive hand, which then goes limp as he’s kissed
roughly, leaving a Leo-shaped indent in the wall (or at least a spot where he’s
rubbed off most of the dust and grit).
 
“Mystery,” Mika murmurs, watching, entranced. “Um. I’m glad you’re not like
that, kara.”
 
“Up,” Izumi mutters, grabbing Leo up by the waist and hoisting his feet off the
ground to coax all four of those limbs around him.
 
“Izumiiiin—“
 
“So I can carry him off to somewhere safer,” Izumi growls, scooping Leo up a
bit more to let him drape partially over his shoulder. “Obviously.”
 
Mika’s eyes roll firmly, and he grabs at Arashi’s hand, gently tugging. “Rei
didn’t tell me all of his plans, but I know some of ‘em, and you guys know some
of ‘em too, right?” he presses. “Let’s compare an’ contrast. I ain’t ready to
leave yet, we got too much to do. Right, Majesty?”
 
Leo thumps Izumi’s back, displeased. “Carry me properly! Either in your arms or
on your back, I’m not potatoes! Your king is not potatoes!”
 
“Bring those noisy potatoes,” Arashi says, following at Mika’s heels, squeezing
his hand. “Oh, hell, we should just all take a honeymoon together.”
 
“Fun,” Mika immediately decides, guiding the way around the hustle and bustle
of the palace, taking the shortest route. “But Izumin might get weird.”
 
“No, you’re the weird one,” Izumi matter-of-factly says, giving Leo’s ass a
sharp slap. “Stop squirming, Your Majesty.”
 
Leo huffs, then subsides, reaching down and giving Izumi’s ass a firm squeeze,
then another one. “Never mind, this position has its merits. Hey, Mika! Do you
like the present?”
 
“Yeah.” Mika pulls aside the thin curtains leading directly into the prince’s
quarters—empty, as per usual, and much safer than anywhere else he can think of
right now. “I renamed him, though. Boots is a bad name.”
 
Izumi rolls his eyes, throwing Leo down onto the bed. “Told you it was a bad
name,” he grunts, following after Leo in short order, unbuckling his sword
before he pounces and pins him in another kiss.
 
Mika heaves a sigh, looking up at Arashi. “They’re dumb,” he says.
 
“You get quarters like this as a prostitute?” Arashi asks, amazed as he looks
around. “Wow, nice, I’m in the wrong career path.”
 
“Boots is a great name,” Leo gasps, wrapping his legs around Izumi, yanking him
down with weirdly prehensile strength. “Very manly, he can grow into it—Izumi,
please—“
 
“Technically, it’s the prince’s,” Mika says, flopping down onto a chaise
lounge, since the bed is being occupied. Cupcake, formally known as Boots,
follows behind, circling three times before settling at his feet. “But I
basically moved in here ‘cause it was safer, and a lot more convincing that
we’re sleepin’ together. I renamed him Cupcake,” he tosses over to deaf ears.
 
Izumi silences Leo with another kiss, sucking on his tongue as he shoves up
Leo’s tunic, fingers immediately pinching at his nipples when he settles down
between those lean thighs.
 
“Oh, come on, don’t do it right now,” Arashi complains. He tugs Mika down onto
his lap, arms around his waist from behind, nuzzling into his hair. “You still
want to be mine, amaka? Even if I was a brute about today?”
 
Leo arches back, gasping, hands tangled in Izumi’s hair, urging his mouth down,
down, down.
 
“Y’know they ain’t gonna stop once they start,” Mika wearily says, even as he
settles comfortably into Arashi’s lap, curling his arms around his neck. “You
were a gross brute,” he bluntly says. “And I’m mad at you, ‘cause I was right.”
 
Izumi kisses his way down Leo’s stomach, sucking on the jut of a hip as his
fingers fumble with his laces. He yanks those trousers off, leaving them tossed
over one shoulder before his tongue licks a wet, hot stripe down the length of
Leo’s cock.
 
Leo cries out, as if they’re in the safest place in the country instead of the
most dangerous, wrapping his thighs around Izumi’s head, his own head thunking
back against the pillow, nails raking up Izumi’s scalp. “I’ll die if you
don’t,” he groans, feeling as if he’ll float away, grounded only by Izumi’s
mouth on his dick.
 
“You were right,” Arashi says with a sigh, “but only because the king is better
than he should be, not because it was the right thing to do. You…you’re
probably going to hate a lot of the things I do, you know, love? Because I’m a
soldier, and you’re so, so much better than that.”
 
Izumi’s mouth hastily closes around the head of Leo’s cock, licking and sucking
before he swallows him further down. He grabs at Leo’s thighs, letting them
rest atop his shoulders as he eagerly drags his tongue down, groaning in the
back of his throat as the all-too familiar taste of Leo swells over his tongue.
 
“I always hate th’ stuff you do,” Mika bluntly says, staring up at him. “But it
ain’t ‘cause I’m better. It’s ‘cause I’m worried ‘bout you all th’ time an’
that ain’t gonna change, married or not. Got it?” He pauses, craning his neck
to spare a glance over at the bed, unable to help himself.
 
“…Maybe we should talk about this later,” Arashi murmurs, pressing a long, wet
kiss to Mika’s neck, his own eyes on the others. “You wanna play with them? Or
have you been played with enough down here, the way you look, I’m surprised you
can walk in a straight line…”
 
“No one touches me down here,” Mika groans, his head falling back automatically
as Arashi’s mouth presses to his skin. “’s bullshit, I’m horny an’ I’m good at
bein’ a whore but no one even gives a daaamn…” It’s probably a bad idea to be
focusing on this right now, when he should absolutely be insisting that they
focus on other things, but—he’s never exactly been one to be the voice of
reason.
 
“Get your skirts up, then, love.” Arashi hoists Mika up farther onto his lap,
then drops one hand to adjust himself, loosening his laces. “Show me how you’ll
take care of your man, when we’re married, hmm?”
 
Leo cries out, and floods Izumi’s mouth, spasming so hard that he lurches up,
thighs tight about Izumi’s head, spending down his throat so hard he blacks out
for a moment.
 
“Noisy,” Mika mutters, rolling his eyes as he eagerly readjusts, his mouth hot
against Arashi’s neck as he sucks on the lobe of his ear. “It’s so hot when
y’talk like that,” he breathes, yanking up the gauzy layers of clothing, and
plucking out a little bottle of oil from a hidden pocket. “Kara, I’ve missed
you…”
 
Izumi draws back when Leo’s thighs finally release his head, swallowing
noisily, though the taste still remains on his tongue. It’s Leo, very
distinctly Leo, but—also, distinctly not, strangely bright and somehow
familiar. “You…taste different,” he murmurs, wiping his mouth as he
contemplates this, flushed and sweaty and with his hair thoroughly mussed.
“Like…hmm.”
 
Leo grins lazily, pulling back and petting Izumi’s hair, fingertips gently
massaging at the base of his neck. “You just haven’t tasted me enough,” he
decides. “Not recently, did you just rinse with mint?”
 
“Missed you, too,” Arashi whispers, leaning back on his elbows. “Go on. Show
me, yeah? I want to see what makes you the best whore in the Sandlands, since
I’m buying you forever.”
 
“Don’t think so,” Izumi mutters, running his tongue over his lower lip before
he gives up trying to figure it out, and slides up to mouth a warm, wet kiss to
Leo’s throat. “Is it favoritism for me to stay the Captain of the Kingsguard
after we’re married?” he murmurs. “Or do you even give a fuck?”
 
“If y’say it like that…I’m gonna come before you’re even in me,” Mika huffs,
his face flushed hot as he tips the oil over into his palm, then reaches back
to wrap it around Arashi’s cock, slicking him thoroughly with a long stroke.
It’s as much waiting as he can handle, when he feels Arashi in the palm of his
hand, and he arches back, pulling that thick length to his hole and sinking
back onto it with a long, breathy groan.
 
“I genuinely don’t,” Leo says happily. “And even if I removed you, you could
always re-add yourself, since you’ll be my co-consort. Equal standing with me,
isn’t that cool? Nnh, I’m horny even now, put it in me.”
 
Arashi squeezes Mika’s hips, eyes dark with pleasure. “I can see why you’re so
expensive,” he breathes. “I’d pay ten times your weight in gold, lay you down
on the bed and let each piece clink down around you, any time you do something
I love you can have another—ahh, amaka, you’re so tight—“
 
“‘cause you…haven’t been here,” Mika pants out, gripping Arashi’s shoulders as
he rocks down against him, sinking down until Arashi’s buried entirely inside,
and his entire body clenches down, protesting and savoring it all at once. His
head tips back as he pants, hair dripping down his back, jewelry quietly
clinking together as he moves. “Karaaaa…nhhh, why weren’t you here—t’ fuck me
like this, huh?”
 
Do we have time for this and obviously I’m going to put it in you wage a very
brief war in Izumi’s mind, and he shrugs, sitting back to unlace his breeches.
“Arashi, toss some of that oil this way,” he breathes. “Our king is needy.”
 
Arashi tosses the oil, shifting to part Mika’s legs further, looking over his
shoulder at Izumi. “Look how pretty he is, Izumi,” he says, eyes flicking back
to Mika’s face. “Do you think I got a good deal? He cost me a king’s ransom,
but his hole is so lovely…”
 
“I don’t want a ransom,” Leo groans, attempting to climb onto Izumi’s cock
before Izumi even gets his breeches off, grabbing the oil and quickly shoving a
finger into his ass. “I just want you, I want to consummate!”
 
“We’re not even married yet, you idiot,” Izumi breathlessly laughs, shoving Leo
back down with a hand on his chest. “You do know proposing and marrying are two
different things, right?”
 
Mika growls lowly, and lurches forward in Arashi’s lap to bite at his throat,
hungry and overeager. “Kara,” he whines, squirming down, panting as his own
cock twitches between his legs, achingly hard. “You ain’t gonna throw me
around? After so long? I want y’to break me in haaalf…”
 
“Whiny,” Izumi tosses over, amused, as he steals the bottle of oil to pour it
over his own hand. “Your Majesty…you’re being a brat, turn over and let me fuck
you senseless.”
 
Leo makes a happy little squeak in his throat, then flips over, spreading his
thighs so far apart that his cock rubs against the bed, ass arching up so his
spine is a sharp curve. “Senseless, that’s the promise, right? No thoughts,
just sex, right? Just you in me?”
 
The muscles in Arashi’s arms tense suddenly and he lifts Mika off his cock,
throwing him down on the bed next to Leo, on his back with his legs spread. “My
pretty whore likes to be treated kind of rough?” he teases, sliding in deep
again with one single heady thrust, filling him hard. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll
give you something money can’t buy. Are you nice and full now?”
 
Mika stifles a shriek behind one hand, his eyes rolling back into his head as
his back arches. Legs trembling, toes curling, he clings to Arashi’s waist with
his thighs, bent in two and trying not to squeak and moan every single time
Arashi moves within him. “Karaaaa…god, fuck me, fuck me, you’re…s….so…good at
thaaaat…”
 
Mika moaning in his ear is distracting, but it just serves to make Izumi’s own
cock harder. He tips the oil over the cleft of Leo’s ass, dragging his fingers
down it before guiding his cock to that hole, letting it sink in deep. “Just
sex,” Izumi lowly promises, bending forward to kiss the back of Leo’s shoulder.
“Sounds good after all this, doesn’t it.”
 
Arashi nudges Izumi’s shoulder, leaning over for a kiss of his own. “Look how
cute they are,” he murmurs, eyes dancing when he slides in deep, stirring Mika
up inside, hands tight on his hips. “Can’t believe I—sent you off to be a
whore, and you—came back to me tighter than ever, ah—“
 
Leo writhes, biting hard into his pillow, tense and trembling as his body
yields, accepting Izumi in deep without complaint, thighs twitching and
stretched out wide. “S-sounds real good,” he slurs, shoving his face against
the pillow, his whole body slowly spasming in pleasure as Izumi finally slides
into where he belongs.
 
Izumi’s attention turns hyper-focused as he sucks on the side of Leo’s neck,
his hands bracing against the bed as he bends over him, panting into the mess
of his hair as his cock sinks in deep. It feels different than the last time
they were together, somehow—far less…forced, with nothing in the way for either
of them, and that makes him grabby, eager, overly enthusiastic while his teeth
nip into Leo’s shoulder.
 
Mika grabs at Arashi’s hair, pulling him down for a long, hot kiss to muffle
the sounds welling up from his own throat as he rocks into every thrust, a
panting, shivering mess when Arashi’s cock sinks in so deep that it makes his
chest heave. His thighs shake, and his nails sink into the back of Arashi’s
neck. “Don’t…nhh…use that as an excuse…to leave me again—fuck—“ The curse at
the end is less because of Arashi fucking him, and more because he can hear
(and feel) someone outside of the door.
 
“…not a bad person, but the rest of them, I don’t know how much hope I have for
them to—“
 
Adonis falls silent as he opens the door, eyes sweeping over the four figures
writhing on the bed. He swallows hard, looking between the bed and Rei,
standing at his side.
 
A sudden shiver wracks Leo’s body, electric, feeling like a shot of ice up the
spine, and he lets out a cry, eyes wide and startled as he convulses under
Rei’s stare.
 
“…Well.” Rei’s eyebrows climb as he steps inside, tugging the door shut behind
himself and Adonis. “Don’t stop on my behalf, this is a flashback to my youth.
Adonis,” he says, switching back to Sandtongue, “shall we step out into the
courtyard? Let these idiots finish up.”
 
Izumi slowly pulls back, tucking himself back into his breeches and yanking a
blanket up and over Leo before he simply grabs his sword, saying nothing, and
draws it in one fluid movement before lunging at Rei.
 
“Whoa—kara, get him,” Mika hastily snaps, lurching up and forward to grab at
Izumi’s ankle.  “Izumin, don’t you dare!”
 
Arashi tries, but his foot tangles in the sheets, costing him valuable seconds
as he struggles with the linen. He shouts, hand thrown out, but it misses Izumi
by bare inches.
 
White light flickers, not as bright as a spell, but noticeable to anyone with a
hint of sensitivity. A hand shoots out, and Kaoru materializes from behind a
notice-me-not veil, face set in steel as he catches Izumi’s wrist with an iron
grip. “Careful, easy there, friend,” he says easily, expression not changing.
“You could put someone’s eye out with that thing.”
 
Izumi hisses through his teeth, his eyes slitted as he tries to lunge against
that hold in spite of his common sense telling him not to. “Let me go,” he
lowly says. “Or I’ll fucking kill you, too.”
 
“Izumin, stop it,” Mika groans, flopping down with a pillow swiftly yanked over
his face. “You can’t kill Rei.”
 
“You did something to him,” Izumi flatly says, directing those words to Rei,
who remains unmoved, obviously all of his trust placed in the fact that Kaoru
will stop Izumi from as much as touching him. “Tell me. Tell me what you did!”
 
“The fact you can sense that is really interesting,” Rei says, unfazed, and he
steps sideways, around the clash of Kaoru and Izumi. “Adonis, shall we continue
this outside?”
 
“Frostling?” Kaoru asks, more curious than disturbed, slowly unwinding a silver
beaded bracelet from one hand, flicking it between his fingers in a practiced
motion. “I didn’t really notice when we were traveling, but you didn’t let it
out then, did you?” A flick of his fingers, and he brings the bracelet to bear
against the sword, more of that white light flaring.
 
Leo sits up fast, clutching the sheets to his chest. “Captain! Stand down!” His
voice crackles with all the authority of being king, but his eyes are worried.
 
Izumi recoils, yanking his sword back as he takes a step backwards. It’s as
much because of that strange, white light as Leo’s words, and even though his
sword lowers, his eyes remain trained on Kaoru—and behind him, Rei—bright blue,
pupils slitted. “What I am,” he stiffly says, “is none of your business.”
 
“I believe the polite term,” Rei lowly says into Kaoru’s ear, “is Icebred,
love. Sena, I assure you I did nothing but assist and protect the king. I’m
sure he’d be happy to share with you the details.”
 
Kaoru sighs. “You people have so many fancy words these days, how is an old man
like me supposed to keep up?” He twitches his fingers, and the bracelet coils
back around his wrist, staying in place as if each of the beads is a
magnet—which, of course, in a way, each of them are. “Sorry, Icebred. But Rei,
if you start calling the Inglings Darkbred, we’re going to need to have a
talk.”
 
“Disgusting, they’re just Inglings,” Rei snorts, fluttering a hand. “Anyway,
sorry to interrupt all of you, I was just looking for a private place to speak
with Adonis.”
 
Izumi remains unmoving, fingers curled about his sheathed sword. “…Get dressed,
Your Majesty,” he quietly says. “I’ll escort you out of here.”
 
“Izumin, you’re bein’ unreasona—“
 
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Izumi stoops, tossing Leo his trousers.
 
Leo moves quietly, yanking on trousers and shirt, still feeling oddly shaken by
Rei’s appearance and the flare of weird magic moving through him.
 
Arashi follows, dressing quickly, tugging Mika’s weird skirts and robes down
over his legs. “Izumi, what are you doing?” he hisses, wrapping his arms around
Mika as if Rei and Adonis had specifically shown up to take Mika away from him.
“You’re acting crazy, that’s the Demon King!”
 
“He did something,” Izumi hisses right back, keeping one eye on Rei as he
speaks to Arashi. “I can feel it. I—I can’t describe it, but I can tell he did
something to Leo.”
 
“You’re being so dumb,” Mika mumbles, batting Arashi away to straighten his
clothing himself. “He ain’t done nothin’ he didn’t need to do. Lemme go, I
ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
 
“He helped me,” Leo says quietly, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “With the bond.
That’s why it’s...don’t you feel how much better it is now, between us? Because
of what he did?”
 
Izumi’s eyes flick entirely back to Rei, and his fingers drum slowly against
the hilt of his sword. “Explain.”
 
“I muted the remains of the bond he had, just as His Majesty says,” Rei says,
unfazed by the lingering threat of Izumi with a sword. “I promise you, it was
nothing but an attempt to help him. It’s still fresh, though, which probably
explains his reaction.” He bows his head to Leo apologetically. “With time,
that should dull a bit. I hope it hasn’t been too unpleasant, Your Majesty.”
 
Kaoru’s eyes flick to Rei. That’s not an adequate description of what he’d
done, not in the slightest, but seeing how Izumi reacts to even that…
 
“Totally fine,” Leo says, then frowns, voice falling a little. “It was weird
when you came in, though, like I got sprayed with icy water. Is it supposed to
be like that?”
 
Kaoru’s eyes flash, not moving from Rei. A thrall incurring its master’s
proprietary displeasure, he knows at once, with a sinking heart. Doubtless Rei
hadn’t known, hadn’t intended, and it had been an unconscious reaction…but was
that even worse?
 
“It’s probably just…turned up a bit high because I just fed,” Rei reassures
Leo, though hearing that from Leo makes his brow furrow, and he sweeps forward,
reaching out a hand towards him. “Here, let me play with it a—“
 
“Don’t touch him,” Izumi lowly snaps, sweeping in front of Rei’s hand to block
his touch entirely.
 
“I can’t fix it,” Rei calmly says, not dropping his hand, “unless you let me
lay hands on him. Or, we let the king decide, as is his right.”
 
Izumi’s mouth twists, his hand tight on the hilt of his sword. “I don’t like
this,” he tersely says, glancing back at Leo over his shoulder.
 
“Izumi,” Leo says gently, reaching over to give his arm a squeeze, “you don’t
like it, but you don’t know anything about it, right? So whose opinion do you
think I should listen to?”
 
Izumi twitches underneath the touch, a full-body shudder that he struggles to
suppress. That, unfortunately, he blames on being interrupted at the worst
possible time, and how he simply can’t settle now. “…Fine,” he softly says,
moodily stepping aside. “You obviously trust him.”
 
“He helped me,” Leo says simply. “He helped me be me again, and not always
thinking about…” The storm of cloudy emotions rages across his face, and for a
moment, he looks entirely lost, the way he had before Rei’s tampering.
 
“Don’t worry, Sir Sena,” Kaoru chimes in with a little bow. “Stopping demons
from working unwelcome spells on humans is my entire job description. Even a
Demon King couldn’t defy me if I wanted to stop him, and he won’t be able to
hide what he does from me.”
 
Arashi blinks up. “Wait, who’s this?”
 
“Lord Hakaze of High Harbor,” Rei simply provides as he steps past Izumi to
rest his hands upon either side of Leo’s face, tipping his head up in his palms
as he tries to narrow the flow of his own magic wrapped about Leo. “He’s a
paladin. How’s that, Your Majesty? Any better?”
 
Leo sighs in relief, toes wiggling as he sags back onto the bed. “Far better,
thank you, Rei. Hey, you’re a real paladin? Like, the Holy White Order? Like in
the books?”
 
Arashi groans. “You haven’t been reading Captain Morisawa’s books, have you?
Izumi, you can’t let him get into those, we won’t ever sleep.”
 
“Kaoru is delightfully fancy,” Rei hums, neither confirming or denying Leo’s
assumptions as he releases him with a pat on the head. “Aren’t you, love?”
 
“He reads them on his own,” Izumi sourly mutters, his eyes still tracking Rei,
suspicious and not bothering to hide it.
 
“I can’t believe not a single one of y’all apologized for interruptin’ us,”
Mika crossly pipes up. “I ain’t leavin’, y’know, if that’s what you’ve been
tryin’ to convince the prince about.”
 
“Where’s Shu, anyway?” Arashi asks, looking around as if he’s going to
materialize behind them, pulling Mika closer onto his lap. “You said he was
staying with you, right, amaka?”
 
“Staying?” Leo asks, frowning as he looks from one to the other. “No, no, we
came down here to get you out, it’s time for everyone to leave. Right, Rei?”
 
“Shu is continuing to stay under cover for the moment while I was speaking with
Adonis—but alas, it seems as though my plans to chat with him privately were
cut short,” Rei dryly says. “My plans do include sending both Mika and Shu
home, yes—please do not tell me Mika has already begun arguing otherwise to
you, too, Sir Arashi.”
 
“I didn’t even get a chance ‘cause th’ king was off killin’ people,” Mika
grumbles as he buries himself against Arashi’s chest. “I don’t wanna go home.
Not yet. I’m not done here, we already talked about this!”
 
“We’re discussing it again, then,” Rei firmly says. “It’s not safe here. It
won’t be. What I need is for you to all agree to take Mika, Shu, and the king
at least away from this palace, preferably entirely out of the city.”
 
“Eh? Not done?” Arashi tilts his head to the side. “What else do you want to do
here?”
 
“Time’s wasting,” Leo says brusquely, standing form the bed as if he hadn’t
spent the last several minutes having a delightful amount of sex. “Let’s get
clear. Rei, your plan is still the same as it was last time we spoke? Izumi,
you’ll be a guard for the caravan of people headed away. Lord Hakaze, you as
well, if you are what you say you are, they’ll need your skills. Arashi, if
Mika won’t go, pick him up and carry him. I’d like to be reuniting terrified
little children with their wealthy and influential parents tomorrow at the
latest, all right?”
 
“My plan is absolutely the same as it was,” Rei confirms, folding his arms
across his chest. “Instead of Kaoru, you can have Captain Morisawa. I need
Kaoru’s particular form of expertise with me. Otherwise, I have no complaints.”
 
“No—Adonis isn’t good with the kids like I am, you talked to Master, you
promised  —“
 
“I didn’t promise anything,” Rei interrupts, much to Mika’s obvious
displeasure. “I said I’d consider it. I need you all out of this city. That’s
what I’ve decided, and so has the king, and you’ll abide by that.”
 
“Amaka,” Arashi says softly, stroking Mika’s hair, “what more can you do? The
rest of the plan, it’s not the kind of thing you want to be here for. Has Rei
ever led you wrong? He never tells too much, but it always turns out well in
the end, right? Remember last time, with the Academy?” He’s not above doing
exactly as Leo had said and tossing Mika over his shoulder, though.
 
“Does the plan need someone who is good with kids?” Adonis asks, breaking his
silence with a worried little frown. “I’m not supposed to be that person,
right?”
 
“You don’t need to be that person,” Rei hastens to reassure him. “The children
will be dealt with accordingly—I just need you to stay safe, and away from the
rest of your family while we handle them.”
 
“He could use more people that can speak both Sandtongue and common, if nothin’
else,” Mika mumbles unhappily, lacing his hands around Arashi’s neck. “What if
y’need more wizards?”
 
“I have Kanata with me as well, and Kaoru serves the purpose of translator as
needed—but trust me, there will be less talking, and more fighting, which you
need to stay out of,” Rei says firmly. “When it’s done, you can come back, if
that’s what you want.”
 
Arashi, the veteran of a thousand battles and multiple wars, visibly pales.
“You remember the last time you let those…ghosties…out? In this city? I do.”
 
“I’m better at controllin’ ‘em now,” Mika sulkily says. “I can help.”
 
“You’ll be much more helpful outside of the city. I’m not arguing about it any
longer,” Rei continues as Mika opens his mouth to complain again. “No one here
thinks we need a necromancer in the mix. That’s not an insult, that’s a fact.”
 
Mika’s hands clench into his palms, and he slithers his way abruptly out of
Arashi’s lap. “I’m gonna go wake th’ kids up,” he mutters, and stalks out of
the room, brushing past Rei and Adonis on his way.
 
Rei heaves a sigh, offering Arashi a weary shrug. “Take him out of here, and do
not let him out of your sight once you do. It’s not just his abilities that I
don’t want running amuck; his mother is directly involved, and I’m afraid of
his reaction if he has to see her. Understood?”
 
Arashi nods shortly, and stands, fastening his swordbelt over tunic and
leggings, then shrugging into his official coat and boots. “Why does he want to
stay?” he demands, adjusting the tie in his hair. “I’d thought he’d be snarling
to go home, but he’s clawing at the ground to stay.”
 
“He has a strong sense of honor,” Adonis says quietly. “And he is protective
over those children. I respect him.”
 
“But the kids won’t be in danger, right?” Arashi asks, looking confused.
“That’s right, isn’t it?”
 
“Every effort will be made to save every single innocent,” Rei softly says.
“But in war, there can be casualties. You should know that well. Mika doesn’t
like it—I can’t blame him, but him being here will only increase the death
toll.”
 
Arashi grimaces. “War…it’s different in the West. More often than not, we
choose our own field of battle, far from any homes and families. And we knew
who the enemy was, and they don’t…look like us.”
 
“Maybe it would be better if you told him that in those words,” Rei says,
“because he refuses to listen to what I’m telling him, and I’m afraid he’s
going to get himself—and Shu—killed.”
 
“We’ll make sure he doesn’t stay,” Izumi mutters, scooping up Leo’s cloak from
the floor and throwing it over his own shoulder to carry it for him. “Shu,
either. C’mon, Arashi; let’s deal with this. Adonis, was it? Show us where Mika
would’ve run off to.”
 
“This way.”
 
The second the door closes behind them, Kaoru leans against it, one eyebrow
raised. “This is, ah, pretty rough, hmm? Not exactly the way you thought it
would be. You think it’ll work?”
 
“Be more specific,” Rei wearily says, raking a hand back through his hair. “My
plans in general, my involvement with the king, my attempts to keep both my
mate and his second intact…”
 
“All?” Kaoru suggests. “But mostly, the plan to get everyone nonessential out
of the city before it all goes boom. How powerful is the weird pretty
necromancer? Could I take him out if I had to?”
 
“No. You’d be dead a few seconds after his casting.”
 
Kaoru snorts in disbelief. “Be serious. He’s not even a Nightcloak, you think
so little of me?”
 
“He’s not a Nightcloak because he can’t handle being in the public eye, so for
his safety, and everyone else’s, he’s a Nooncloak. But you can go do a reading
on him, and tell me what you think, if you don’t believe me.”
 
“You mean to tell me,” Kaoru says slowly, “that you have a Nightcloak-level
necromancer running around with just an honor-seal on him? Forget the
Sandlands, are you trying to end the Eastern half of the world?”
 
Rei spreads his hands helplessly. “Believe it or not, this was not my decision.
He’s Shu’s charge, and this was agreed upon by the previous Emperor. I’ve never
seen any reason to question it. Shu has him very much under his control.”
 
Kaoru shakes his head in disbelief. “You’ve changed, you know. You never used
to play with things this dangerous. I really hope his ass is worth it.”
 
“Wrong. I was in bed with you, my natural enemy.” Rei smiles, leaning in close
to him. “His ass is worth it, but so is yours.”
 
“But he’s a lot more dangerous than me,” Kaoru protests. “I’m a purring little
pacifist next to a necromancer. Are we still trying to pull this thing off at
sunset? We’ve only got an hour or two left.”
 
“Maybe if you’d stop distracting me by being the way you are, I’d be moving
faster.” Rei sighs, leaning away with a nod. “You’re right. Let’s push to get
this over and done with, and then I get to say that I was right all along
again.”
***** Chapter 50 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
In the Shadowlands, time is something of a mystery.
 
When Izumi wakes, he can’t tell if it’s day or night. The strangely colored sky
outside makes it readily apparent that it’s…something. Ritsu could probably
name the time based on the color.
 
Izumi, for his part, is just hungry.
 
Dealing with the wretch that is Bitch for a day and a half left him exhausted,
and he has absolutely no idea how long he’s slept. Sitting up slowly in Ritsu’s
massive bed, Izumi groggily shucks off the fur blanket—made of some animal’s
pelt that he cannot name, disturbing—and stares bleary-eyed about the room,
frowning.
 
They’re doing it again. He can tell.
 
Pinching the pad of his hand like Ritsu had instructed does little. Izumi
blinks a few times, wishing that would banish the way his eyes like to slit and
hyperfocus in dim light, but it doesn’t do a damned thing. He groans and flops
back down, decidedly unhappy. Maybe he really is turning into the demon beast
half the Capital thinks he is; maybe that’s more suitable than what he was
before in their eyes, at least.
 
“You’re letting the snake win.”
 
Ritsu’s voice is amused, and he leans against the wall of Izumi’s room, which
buckles and softens to accommodate him, as if he’s sitting without getting
horizontal. “You haven’t figured out which you’re gonna do yet, so he’s taking
advantage. You hungry, or is it just too dark?”
 
“…Maybe both,” Izumi admits, his frown deepening as he peers at Ritsu, annoyed
that he can see him so clearly even in the dim light. “I don’t like this. This
wasn’t a problem until now. Not—not like this, at any rate.”
 
“You’re getting older.” Ritsu reaches over, ruffling Izumi’s hair in a paternal
gesture. “The snake in you is basically a baby. He’s hungry, not you.”
 
Izumi hisses, swatting Ritsu’s hand away. “How is it basically a baby? That
doesn’t make sense—it’s not like that part of me is a separate person.”
 
“Mmm, it is, though.” Ritsu stretches, yawning deeply and relaxing back into
the wall. “Kind of. It’s like your subconscious knows it’s about to be able to
do more stuff. I dunno, all the half-bloods I know talk about it like it’s a
separate person. My Demon is a dick.”
 
“Do more stuff,” Izumi echoes, deadpan, rolling onto his side and propping his
chin in one hand. “I can already bring people back from the brink of death. I
don’t need anymore weird powers, I’m good, thanks. You get back over here.
Don’t pat my head like that, curl up with me properly.”
 
Ritsu gestures with one finger, then lets the wall gently nudge him forward,
onto the bed where he wraps an arm around Izumi’s waist. “Not all half-drakes
can heal like you, you know. You’re a hell of a strong one.”
 
“Am I?” Izumi stretches out, throwing an arm around Ritsu in turn, plus a leg
to make sure he doesn’t escape. “Every legend I’ve ever heard is about how even
half-blooded drakes can heal like crazy.”
 
Ritsu snorts. “Those legends were written by superstitious old wives. If a
drake could even stop someone with a gut wound from dying, they’d call it a
miracle. Not like you. Mm, you smell good. You’re my popsicle.”
 
“No one’s ever mentioned that to me before,” Izumi suspiciously says, curling
his fingers against Ritsu’s back. “I thought all drakes could heal people.
Isn’t that why we like them instead of hunt them like vermin?”
 
“Well, yeah.” Ritsu raises an eyebrow, then slides a fingertip very
deliberately down Izumi’s spine. “We’re talking about the North here. No real
healers, no real money, no magic because the Capital takes everything. Finding
out one of your regiment is part drake means that your friend who got savaged
by an Icewolf is probably going to survive instead of probably going to die.
They were basically worshipped back then. And if the odd girl gets a swollen
belly in the middle of winter when all the men are away in a war party…small
price to pay, right?” With that, a fingernail traces down even farther, poking
directly at Izumi’s hole.
 
Izumi squeaks and arches, his teeth snapping against Ritsu’s shoulder with a
low, rumbling growl. “Be nice. I’m hungry,” he lowly warns, eyes glittering in
the dim light. “You don’t have to tell me how it is in the north. I’m
just…surprised. Everyone acts like what I do is so…normal? I guess.”
 
“Want to know something about humans?” Ritsu’s eyes gleam, reflecting red in
the darkness, his fingers digging into Izumi’s ass. “They’ll accept just about
anything, as long as you act like it’s normal…and it’s beneficial to them. They
welcomed an archdemon into their midst for centuries, didn’t they? Because he
helped them beat back the Inglings, and acted nice. They didn’t look too
closely. They let my dumb brother be a wizard, even though he’s a Cambion,
because he’s pretty and he protects them. If it’s good, it must be fine,
right?”
 
“Don’t humans…check these kinds of things?” Izumi groans, his head thunking
forward against Ritsu’s shoulder. “They should. It’s not…it doesn’t seem like
it’s that common for half-bloods, or weird creatures, to be floating around,
especially as wizards…” He squirms closer, nuzzling up underneath Ritsu’s chin.
“I thought you and Rei were the exception, rather than the rule,” he murmurs.
 
“Sure, we are,” Ritsu agrees, letting his hands turn more gentle, rather than
digging in deeper, petting up and down Izumi’s back. “Because most of us don’t
live long enough to bloom. Anyway, you want something to eat? From me, or real
food?”
 
“Shu said most wizards bloom before they’re sixteen, and I thought half-bloods
were notoriously long lived,” Izumi grumbles, settling beneath Ritsu’s petting,
his breath escaping slow and even. “Shouldn’t you be blooming when you’re forty
or something? Are you going to try and feed me raw meat again?”
 
“I dunno, did you develop a craving for it yet?” Ritsu teases, ignoring the
rest of the question. That’s a whole other thing to go into, and it…it might
not happen. “Hey, if you stay up here long enough, you’ll see how much stronger
it makes you. You should.”
 
“Being in the Shadowlands does make me feel weird,” Izumi murmurs, his eyes
lidding as his fingers trail slowly down the back of Ritsu’s neck. “But I can’t
stay. I don’t even know how much time has passed, but I know it’s too long. And
no—I don’t want raw meat. You’re tasty, though.”
 
“Then eat.” Ritsu’s teeth flash, and he turns his face, exposing his neck. “Can
your teeth do it properly yet? Heh, my favorite popsicle is eating me, that’s
interesting…”
 
Izumi hesitates, frowning. His tongue runs over his own teeth, contemplative,
but he shakes his head, leaning away. “Too weird,” he mutters. “I’m half human,
you know.”
 
“So am I. So’s Rei. Why focus on the boring half?”
 
“Humans aren’t boring. All of you are just too strange.” Izumi’s eyebrows
raise. “Did you just defend your brother?”
 
Ritsu’s lips part in a hiss, and he pinches Izumi’s ass viciously. “I didn’t.
Asshole. No. No, I didn’t. ‘Not-boring’ isn’t the same thing as good.”
 
Izumi growls, and bites this time when he lurches forward, teeth clamping down
onto Ritsu’s throat. It doesn’t do anything—he can’t break the skin, even when
he chomps down and chews grumpily. “Are they supposed to get sharper?” he
mutters, pulling back and poking at one of his teeth that he swears are normal,
though Ritsu has called them fangs previously. “They do shit right now. What’s
the point if drakes eat via sex, anyway?” 
 
“Uhhh…” Ritsu thinks, then shrugs. “I swear I got bitten by a drake once. Maybe
I remembered wrong. Whatever, eat me in your own special way.”
 
“You’re not that old,” Izumi flatly says, even as he slides a hand immediately
down, thumbing along the bone of Ritsu’s hip. “I mean, I like older men, but…”
 
“But nothing,” Ritsu groans, wrapping his legs around Izumi, rolling them over
so he sits atop Izumi’s thighs. “You want to feast on me? Or the other way
around? What does your drake side want, mm?”
 
“D-don’t…ask that kind of question, it makes it…weird…” Izumi groans, his eyes
fluttering as his hands wrap around Ritsu’s hips, squeezing slowly. His own
back arches, his already hard cock slides up against the cleft of Ritsu’s ass.
“A-and I get way too hard, damn it…”
 
“Oh, yeah.” Ritsu grins, and undulates his spine, rocking down sensuously
against Izumi’s cock. “Sounds like he wants…to come out and play. I bet if I
turn up the cold in here, he’ll play with me…”
 
“Fuck you,” Izumi breathes, his nails biting into Ritsu’s skin as he moves. His
cock twitches, dripping as it slides against Ritsu’s skin, shivering at the
softness of it. “Bite me…and I’ll think about it.”
 
Ritsu never needs more than one invitation. He strikes faster than any snake,
fangs sinking deep into Izumi’s neck, a pleased rumble coming from his chest
when he drinks deep. He’s being nice, because he likes Izumi, and carefully
doesn’t even mess up on purpose. Cool blood fills his mouth, venom releasing
into Izumi’s bloodstream as Ritsu swallows eagerly. “Favorite popsicle,” he
murmurs, eyes heavy-lidded.
 
Izumi arches with an open-mouthed gasp, his eyes fluttering shut as his fingers
claw at Ritsu’s back, holding him close as he drinks. The rush of Ritsu’s
biting him is secondary only to the aching stir of need deep in his belly, and
Izumi rolls them with a breathy huff of effort, neck still bared to Ritsu’s
fangs even as he wriggles between those soft thighs. “You’re right,” he pants,
the waves of his hair dripping over his shoulders and onto Ritsu’s chest. “I
want to eat you, too.”
 
“You want to slurp?” Ritsu asks, amused, letting Izumi spread his thighs like
butter. “Here, have a taste, lovely drake mine…”
 
He slashes a sharpened nail across the inside of his forearm, opening a deep
cut, pressing it to Izumi’s mouth. “Try it. Might change you a little.”
 
Izumi acts, doesn’t think, just bites down before he can stop himself, greedily
sucking and swallowing as he clutches at Ritsu’s arm. The taste is odd—bright
and coppery and rich on his tongue, and it makes him tremble down to his toes
as he swallows gulp after gulp, sating a hunger he wasn’t able to put a name
to.
 
“S…sorry—“ he rasps when he forces himself to draw back, his lips stained,
cheeks flushed. “That…was a lot…nnhh, Ritsu…you taste good…”
 
The wound closes with a flick of Izumi’s tongue, and Ritsu’s eyes flash
suddenly brighter, and his clothes fall away like so many shadows. “Get in me,”
he urges, voice a low growl. “You’re…you’ve got me in you, isn’t that nice?
He’s hungry, don’t you—feel it—“
 
Don’t encourage this, stop it! Izumi wants to say, but he still can’t think
straight, not with Ritsu’s blood thrumming through his veins. He groans as he
lurches up, silencing Ritsu with his mouth hot against his, tasting his own
blood on Ritsu’s tongue as much as Ritsu must be able to taste his, and his
cock, dripping, aching, rubs against that tight hole.
 
Oil—that’s somewhere, right? Izumi fumbles for it blindly in the blankets and
furs, comes up with a bottle a few seconds later, and tips it over his cock,
unable to wait any longer when he guides himself inside.
 
Ritsu’s murmurs and growls falter into a purr, rumbling so hard it vibrates
through both of them. “In me,” he urges, not bothering to retract his nails,
scoring bloody furrows down Izumi’s back. “In me, in me, if you need—anything
you need, I’ll let you do that, isn’t it good? Nice and sweet and tight,
right?”
 
Izumi nods mindlessly, panting as he rocks in slowly, muffling a groan into
Ritsu’s neck as he sinks in to the hilt. It’s slick, achingly tight, hot and
squeezing around his cock in a way that makes him shudder. “You’re so tight,”
he breathes, nuzzling up underneath Ritsu’s chin, sucking softly on the arch of
his throat as his knees slide up closer. “Ritsuuu…ah, fuck…”
 
“Perfect.”
 
Ritsu grabs at Izumi with shadows and spirit as much as his hands, pulling him
in deeper, eyes closed to let him savor it even more. The sensation of being so
properly full is a good one, far better than he’s had for so long. He loves
Mao, loves him, but this is the kind of thing he’s always preferred deep down.
Izumi is his favorite snack, the tastiest thing he’s nibbled on in a decade,
something he wants to grab and keep close. “Stay,” he breathes, squeezing down
on Izumi’s thick cock.
 
Izumi’s eyes roll back as Ritsu squeezes around him, and his hands drag up,
grabbing at Ritsu’s hips, yanking him down as he thrusts in, harder, deeper.
“D-don’t—ask me that, right now,” he pants, his teeth nipping at Ritsu’s
throat, his cock twitching inside as his hips roll, barely pulling out each
time he moves. “Just—let me take care of you…okay?”
 
Ritsu can hear Izumi’s real objection—don’t ask me or I’ll agree—and it makes
his inner monster growl in pleasure, sinking his nails in to keep Izumi where
he is—where he belongs. Each press of that thick cock against his insides makes
him whine, his body rousing to Izumi’s, hungrier for being fed. “Do whatever
you want,” he breathes, reaching a hand up to toy with his own nipple. “It’s…so
good, so good when you do…”
 
Izumi drags a hand back up through Ritsu’s hair, hauling him up into another
kiss when he grinds in deep, the sticky-slick slap of their skin echoing in his
ears. The stretch around his cock makes him shudder, his fingers curling
against Ritsu’s scalp, against the bed where he braces a hand. “You’re
so—fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, cutting himself off by sucking Ritsu’s
tongue into his mouth.
 
The nails in his back make him arch down, trapping Ritsu’s cock between them as
he rocks in, thrusting up as he tugs Ritsu down onto his cock. The achy little
spasms around him make Izumi’s breath catch. “When’s the last time…someone took
care of you like this, huh?”
 
“L-long time,” Ritsu admits, just before he lets out a breathy cry, back
arching high, squeezing down so hard against Izumi that a lesser man might have
pulled out, but Izumi can take it, Ritsu knows that deep down. “Like that, just
like that, just like that! Nnh, you feel it, make me feel it—“
 
He lurches up, sucking on Izumi’s tongue, deliberately slicing his own tongue
open on his fangs, letting the blood flow into Izumi’s mouth, bright and dark
by turns.
 
The taste of Ritsu’s blood on his tongue makes something snap within him.
 
Izumi shifts, grabbing at Ritsu’s wrists, slamming them down to the bed,
pinning them above his head as he fucks in hard, shoving past the squeeze of
those muscles around him to fuck him.Blood drips from the corner of his mouth
as he sucks on Ritsu’s tongue, the taste of it making him groan and pant, with
each snap of his hips taking more of his breath away.
 
Sweat splatters down from his hairline, and Izumi bites back the breathy,
rasping grunt that steals from his lungs when he spills, pulsing inside long
and hard, leaving Ritsu slick inside. He breaks away from Ritsu’s mouth,
panting hard, skin flushed and eyes dilated.
 
“It’s different, isn’t it?”
 
Ritsu’s voice is a breathy moan, from the depths of his pleasure-addled mind as
he writhes slowly, savoring the thickness of Izumi inside of him, eyes lidded
as he watches Izumi lick up every drop of spilled red. “It’s different when you
really let go, right?”
 
Numbly, Izumi nods, slowly slumping forward to bury his face back down into
Ritsu’s neck. He releases his wrists, nuzzling up to his ear, absently nipping
at the lobe of it until he tastes blood again, and runs his tongue up over his
teeth, curiously prodding. “Ow,” he murmurs, poking at something sharp—his own
teeth, apparently, which makes him sit up and run his thumb over in turn. “Oh.
Dunno if I like that,” he mutters, his brow furrowed.
 
Ritsu’s eyes flash, and he strokes almost mechanically up and down Izumi’s
back. “That’s precocious of you,” he murmurs, sitting up with him, looking at
those cute little points. “You really do need to stay up here for a while, when
everything is done blowing up. It’ll be good for both of you.”
 
“No, no way,” Izumi grouses, poking at one of the fangs unhappily. “I have my
post, you know—my duty to the king isn’t something I can blow off. How do I
make these go away? Are they ugly? Or really obvious?”
 
“Rude, are my teeth ugly?”
 
“No, but—they suit you! It’s sexy on you. I’ve got a different image to
maintain.”
 
“You’re in the Shadowlands, you know. This isn’t the best place to talk about
pointy teeth being weird.”
 
“I don’t want to look like a literal snake! Am I going to get scales? Do these
things put out venom?”
 
“Oooh, that would be so cool! Ah, I doubt it, though. That’s not very…heal-y.
If anything, they probably put out antidote, I’m gonna milk you and bottle it.”
 
Izumi’s face flushes, and he smacks at Ritsu’s shoulder as he pulls away
huffily. “Don’t say things like that. It makes me hard again and that’s not
helpful, especially when I don’t know why.”
 
“Are you…” Ritsu narrows his eyes. “Are you horny for being a snake, or for
being milked? I can talk to you about the first one, but we’ll have to call
Tsukasa up here for the second one…”
 
“I just said I don’t know why!” Izumi groans, rolling away and into a ball,
offering Ritsu his back. “Why don’t I get venom,” he sulkily says. “I’m a
knight. I’m supposed to kill things. Why can’t I kill things by biting them,
too?”
 
“What if you drop your sword?” Ritsu points out smugly, poking at Izumi’s back.
“What if you get taken prisoner and some guy’s gonna mess you up and you have
to chew through your ropes? Bet you’ll want fangs then. Besides, they’re
probably retractable, stop whining. Waahh, waaah, I hate being special and
having powers the average knight could never dream of, I want to be normal and
breakable and die early! That’s what you sound like, that voice I was doing.”
 
“I like the healing part for myself! I just—look, I don’t want to be relegated
to the healer,” Izumi exasperatedly says, swiveling his head back around to
glower at Ritsu. “Everyone knows about it now, and already assumes shit about
it. Try being the Captain of the Kingsguard when people scoff at you and say
‘but I thought you were just the king’s healer.’ I didn’t train for years to be
known for that. You’re lucky, everyone knows you’re capable of blowing them up
and biting them and stabbing them.”
 
Ritsu snorts, then crawls closer, sitting firmly on Izumi’s side. “You don’t
get it. I had to reinvent myself so many times. And you can, too. You
just…disappear for a while. Come back as someone else that no one knows. Tell
them the stuff about yourself you want them to know.”
 
“You weren’t sworn to anyone.” Izumi twists around, frowning at him. “You
didn’t have a king, a lover. Could you honestly say you could do the same now,
when you have Mao?”
 
“Sure! It’s easy.” Ritsu concentrates for a moment, and the shadows writhe
around him. Bones crack and grind against each other for a split-second, and
then someone else sits on top of Izumi, looking nearly the same, but cheekbones
slightly higher, chin slightly more pointed, nose a smidgen longer, forehead a
touch broader. The eyes are the same, but everything else shifts just enough to
not really be Ritsu anymore. “Prince Ritsu disappears,” Ritsu says with a
shrug, tossing his hair back, as it lightens to dark brown. “Uhhh now I’m a
merchant from the South, been traveling through the Sandlands for a while. I’ll
comfort Mao while he grieves the loss of his love or whatever.”
 
“…That’s fucked up,” Izumi bluntly says, shoving Ritsu off of him. “I couldn’t
do that to Leo. I couldn’t do it to Arashi, either—to my mother. Maybe it’s
different for demons, but I can’t.”
 
“…Fair enough.” Ritsu flops happily down onto the bed, then sighs. “It’s gonna
hurt to put it back. Tell me if I don’t do it right, okay?” His face
rearranges, into the Ritsu Izumi is more familiar with, wincing and hissing a
little. “Ow. Ow, ow, ow. Is my nose right? Also, you’re dumb, I’d tell Mao what
I was doing.”
 
Izumi spares him a quick glance, then sighs, looking back at him more
thoroughly. “It looks right. Does shapeshifting really hurt that much?” he
curiously asks, reaching out to poke one of Ritsu’s cheeks. “I feel like I’m
too recognizable. I couldn’t just disappear and change everything like you can,
even if I wanted to—which I don’t.”
 
“You’re famous,” Ritsu corrects, submitting to a poke. “That’s not the same
thing as being recognizable. Cut off your hair, change your clothes and the way
you talk, and your own mother won’t know you. Just saying, if you ever need to.
And yeah, shapeshifting is awful. It was easier when I was younger and my bones
were…bendy. I don’t do it often enough for it to get easier.”
 
“I don’t want to cut off my hair, it’s pretty,” Izumi huffily mumbles,
squishing Ritsu’s face between his hands in his irritation. “I want to go back
to being human. Just human, maybe with a little bit faster healing than anyone
else. Is there a way to do that?”
 
“Not with just a little,” Ritsu says, amused. “But…I think it’s possible to cut
the demon out. You have to do it completely, but yeah. You’d be just human. You
don’t want to, though.”
 
“You don’t know that. I like being normal; it was a lot simpler when I was, and
I had far fewer rumors floating around in the Capital, which I prefer.”
 
“No, I just mean you don’t want to do it because it is…not…a pleasant
experience. I mean, you’d probably die.”
 
“Ah. Yeah, I don’t want to die, you’re right about that.”
 
“Also…” Ritsu rolls onto his side, blinking slowly at Izumi. “You’d probably
have to fight him eventually. I knew a guy who cut out his demon, the demon
didn’t like being separate and kept stalking him, trying to get back together.”
 
“Being a demon,” Izumi slowly says, staring at Ritsu, “sounds absolutely
ridiculous.”
 
Ritsu yawns. “I dunno. Don’t have anything to compare it to.”
 
“I do. I’m telling you, it’s ridiculous.” Izumi rolls back over, flattening
Ritsu down to the bed. “Tell me more about it. What’s it like being a child up
here? Did you have to run away from your mother so she wouldn’t eat you or
something?”
 
“I would have, but my brother…” Ritsu’s face turns into a mask, and he looks
away, eyes suddenly dull. “I don’t want to talk about that. Being a child up
here is pretty brutal. We had a lot more siblings back then.”
 
“Then…why do you like to stay here?” Izumi reaches up a hand, running his
fingers over Ritsu’s cheek. “You’re obviously happier down here than you are in
the rest of the human world, but if you can’t even talk about when you lived
here before…”
 
Ritsu grabs Izumi’s hand, pressing a kiss to it, eyes hooded. “Don’t you get
tired of pretending to be something you’re not?” he finally asks. “Don’t you
get sick of pretending you’re as bad at things as they are, just so they don’t
get scared? Don’t you get sick of being stared at like you’re going to eat
their children? Even if you haven’t done that in a really long time?”
 
“I mean—wait. Hold on, you eat children?”
 
“Not anymore, aren’t you listening?”
 
“I…right, I’m just going to…ignore that, then.” Izumi hesitates, his thumb
running over Ritsu’s lower lip. “I do get sick of that, sometimes. But—isn’t it
better to do something with it? You’re down here, sitting around and wasting
away. You could come to the capital, be part of the Kingsguard with me.”
 
“I was in the Kingsguard, Izumi.” Ritsu flops down onto his back, staring up at
the ceiling. “A long time ago. I had a king I fought and died for. At least…my
friends died. I like the current king a lot, but…someone’s got to hold this
place together, you know? I’m doing something important. If someone else got in
charge—if my stupid cousin did, he’d legalize border-crossing for feeding on
humans. The North would get hit worst.”
 
“Be both. Be in my Kingsguard, and watch over the North when I can’t.”
 
Izumi follows after him, spooning against Ritsu’s back and pressing a kiss to
the side of his neck. “If you liked being the Demon King, you’d parade yourself
around and declare that as your name like your brother does,” he quietly says.
“I’m not saying you have to leave here, if you like it so much, but—Ritsu, I
want you.”
 
Ritsu’s face scrunches up, and he turns around, stuffing his face against
Izumi’s shoulder. “I feel better here,” he admits, the sound muffled. “Like I’m
not lying to myself. My shadows are happier. And I’m important, I’m not
just…his little brother. I’d be in the Kingsguard if you were the king, though.
Be king in the North, I’ll be your Captain. Because I…I love you and stuff.
Shut up.”
 
At that, Izumi laughs, the sound muffled into Ritsu’s hair as he squeezes him
close. “You’ll start a war with that kind of talk,” he murmurs, running a hand
down Ritsu’s back, petting him slowly. “If it makes a difference…I’d pick you
over your brother any day.”
 
“Good. You have taste. I’m better than him. All he can do is make trees, so
what, like there aren’t enough trees?”
 
“I was mostly focusing on the part that he’s completely untrustworthy and
creeps me out, but sure, we can go with the tree angle.”
 
“He sucks.” Ritsu’s voice is grumpy, rather than angry, and he bites Izumi’s
shoulder—but gently, without even his canines, let alone his fangs. “He’s
always got a plan. But he’s not mean enough to be serious. So it all sucks.”
 
“The worst,” Izumi obligingly agrees, stroking his fingers through Ritsu’s
hair. “Is that why you hate him so much? Because he’s…well, way more famous
than you? I’m glad I’m an only child, admittedly, so I don’t have competition.”
 
“No. That’s not why.” Ritsu goes still for a moment, then growls low in his
throat. “He always hides things from me. Things I should know. He didn’t tell
me about Mao, how can I forgive him for that? That’s not all of it…but it’s the
most recent.”
 
“Seems like it would’ve been more helpful for you to know about Isara,
honestly,” Izumi mutters, tucking a strand of Ritsu’s hair out of his face. “I
think he’s hiding things from Leo, too—and the worst is that he’s got Shu and
Mika in on it, too, because they worship him. It drives me nuts.”
 
“Also, he’s doing some bad magic.” Ritsu takes in a deep breath, then lets it
out again. “I think it’s him, at least. I don’t know for sure. But I can kinda
feel it brewing, and Natsume agrees that something really dark is going to go
down around him soon. You’re going down there, so you should probably know
that.”
 
“…Like what?” Izumi warily asks. “What even constitutes ‘bad magic’ these days?
Everyone though the previous Emperor was just fine, so I don’t even know
anymore.”
 
“It’s—“ Ritsu huffs, pulling back to peer into Izumi’s face. “I keep forgetting
you don’t know anything about magic. This explanation is going to be
kinda…dense…if you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
 
“Just—try me.” Izumi hesitates, glancing away. “I don’t know the technical
terms of things, but I still…know what things feel like, I guess? More than a
normal human. Like when Mika is doing things, or when you are—I know what it
feels like.”
 
Ritsu brushes his hair back behind his ears, frowning. Then, he shrugs. “Okay,
fine, you’re smart enough. Right, so, do you know where magic, like, comes
from? Not who did it first, but where the energy involved comes from? It’s been
a long time since I’ve explained this to a human, so bear with me and ask
questions if you get confused, I dunno what your people already know.”
 
“Up North, everyone always says it’s from your soul or something? But that
doesn’t sound right,” Izumi wryly says. “Especially considering there seems to
be a lot of magic users floating around that act like they don’t have one.”
 
Ritsu shakes his head. “No, they’re right. At least, that’s where most wizards
draw their power. That’s where the story comes in.” He frowns, then adds, “But
you probably don’t know the story. So watch.”
 
Shadows detach themselves from the wall, shaping themselves into gray figures,
shimmering with their own internal light, narrating his story. “When the rivers
were hills and turtles were barges—sorry, it’s a story for little kids, that’s
how it’s supposed to go—people were just one of a bunch of races, all living in
peace. Humans, drakes, dragons, demons, sirens, seraphs, nymphs, sidhe, and
wraiths—yeah, wow, that rhyme really works to remember them all--they all lived
in one huge city in the middle of the world. Drakes healed the sick, dragons
sheltered everyone from the elements, demons spoke secrets, sirens sang for
everyone, wraiths kept watch, seraphs soothed the spirit, nymphs kept things
growing, sidhe gave inspiration, and humans let them feed, because humans souls
and bodies are the most coveted and potent source of magical energy in the
world.
 
Everything worked in harmony until the wraiths grew jealous. See, a wraith
can’t feed on humans without killing them. Demons take blood, drakes take lust,
seraphs take promises, sidhe take creativity, nymphs take beauty, sirens take
flesh, and dragons take newborns, but wraiths take hearts. As time uncoiled and
no one attacked, humans started to resent having to give up their lives, for
wraiths feed at a much higher rate than any of the others. Are you following so
far?”
 
Izumi nods, drawing his knees up to his chest as he watches, chin propped atop
them. “I had no idea there were so many kinds of demons floating around, but
sure,” he murmurs. “I’m following.”
 
Ritsu rolls his eyes. “They’re not all demons, they’re just not human. Anyway.
So, wraiths stopped keeping watch, and the humans still didn’t pay tribute, so
they attacked. They drove a small population of humans into the mountains, and
tortured them, trying to turn them. But instead of turning, the humans cried
out so loudly for help that the seraphs heard them, and granted them special
powers. It hurt them, and they left the world forever. Half of them went back
to heaven, and the other half fell, giving up so much of their energy that they
were barely more than wraiths themselves, falling into the darkest shadows and
becoming archdemons. The humans they helped promised to protect all their
friends for the sake of the seraphs, and they became the paladins.”
 
The little figures shine with a sudden brightness, enough that even Ritsu looks
away for a moment. “Wraiths retreated into the Ingan canyons, and everything
was peaceful for a while. Slowly, now that the humans had protectors, the
alliances started to drift apart. Dragons took to the skies, sirens to the
waves, sidhe to the air, demons to the shadows, nymphs to the trees, and drakes
to the ice. They took their favorite humans with them, and made Skybred,
Wavebred, Airbred, Shadowbred, Greenbred, Icebred, all gifted with talents and
revered. But the wraiths weren’t done seeking their revenge. They were starved
from lack of hearts, and mutated into something even worse. The next time they
attacked, they brought fearsome creatures, capable of ripping the world in two.
The paladins drove them back, but they brought more creatures the next time,
and the paladins were overrun.
 
“That’s when the first wizard appeared.”
 
The little figure Ritsu summons is far smaller than the others, wobbling on
trembly legs, facing a field of berserkers. “His name was Davren. Davren loved
his people, and the monsters were heading for his village. He didn’t have a
plan, he didn’t have any special weapons, but he walked out of his hut and
faced them down, praying to find the strength to save his people. He prayed to
every creature in turn. The seraphs didn’t have the power any longer. Dragons
didn’t care. Demons were busy with internal warfare. Nymphs couldn’t understand
the concept. Sirens were too far away. Drakes couldn’t move fast enough. Sidhe
thought it was funny. So Davren cursed them all, and said he would never bow to
any creature but humans.
 
“Then he bloomed. He discovered that he had the power to use his own soul as a
weapon. He faced the berserkers down, ready to die protecting his people. He
slew one berserker at Dawn, and the power tore through him, making him bleed
from the nose and ears. He slew three at noon, burning away most of his life
force, leaving him aged and withered. At night, ten berserkers came for him,
and he gathered the rest of his life. Except then his young son ran out, and
Davren accidentally used the energy of his son’s life, killing all of the
berserkers at once. Mad with grief, he clad himself in all black.
 
“After that, the races separated for good, each retreating to its own Dominion.
Davren became the first Emperor of the Academy, which he established. The law
of the Academy dictated what kinds of magic were good, and which were bad.
Davren’s Law says that good magic pulls magic from his own soul. Bad magic
pulls it from someone else’s soul. And neutral magic pulls it from one of the
Dominions. Wizards with drake blood can pull from Ice and cold itself, nymph
blood any living plants, and so on. That’s how you get weirdoes like my
brother, who can do plant magic and shadow magic, we’ve got a nymph in our line
somewhere. Neutral magic can make you enemies from that Dominion, but bad
magic…that’s worse than murder. That’s worse than rape. It’s the thief of
someone else’s soul, and even after death, they won’t be free of you.
 
“So, yeah.” Ritsu waves his hands, and the shadowy figures disappear. “That’s
why we have Dawncloaks, Nooncloaks, and Nightcloaks. It’s supposed to relate to
how many berserkers they could kill with their power. Does…does any of that
make sense? Did I go too fast?”
 
Izumi slowly shakes his head, his eyes a little wide, rather overstimulated
from so much information at once. “No—no, I think I got all of it,” he finally
says, leaning back and unfolding to lean onto his hands as he exhales a slow
breath. “That’s…really interesting, actually. Honestly, I thought that wizard
rankings were based on how much the previous Emperor liked you, all things
considered,” he wryly adds. “So—with all of that—you think your brother’s
pulling on someone else’s soul. Why? Isn’t he strong enough on his own? He is
the Emperor now, that should count for something.”
 
“Not for strength.” Ritsu purses his lips, shaking his head slowly. “I dunno if
that’s what he’s doing, but…anything you do that affects another human’s soul,
that’s bad magic. Oh, yeah, there’s a whole part of the story about paladins
and wizards fighting over it, that part was boring to me as a kid because it
didn’t have any monsters or demons in it so I ignored it.”
 
“Aren’t paladins all dead or something?” Izumi deadpans. “They always sounded
boring to me as a kid, too.” He sighs, pushing his hair out of his face.
“Demons…creatures, I guess, is the better term? Whatever. Being a creature and
being a wizard—that’s still not…one and the same, right? I remember Rei talking
about it being rare for half-bloods like you and him to be wizards, and the
same with his Wavebred friend. I grew up with my mother telling me to hide my
powers because I was a wizard, and she didn’t want me taken away to the
Academy…but that’s not the same, right? Just making sure.”
 
“Not the same,” Ritsu confirms. “Your mom is superstitious and uneducated,
sorry. But if it helps, the Academy would absolutely have come to take you away
if they knew about you. Just not for training.”
 
“I’m hoping you mean the previous Emperor’s Academy, and not this current one,
because. Um.”
 
Ritsu shrugs, and starts dragging his finger through the shadows, stirring them
up again. “I haven’t read his policies. Don’t care. He won’t drag me in, so,
uh, yeah, I don’t care.”
 
“The Academy sounds like bullshit,” Izumi bluntly says, throwing himself flat
onto his back again with a weary groan. “Uuuuggh. I wish I was just a human,
honestly, just a fucking human. Being in this horrible place of in-between just
gives me headaches. Barring that, let me explode and destroy a city like Mika
did, at least then I’m exceptional.”
 
“Exceptional? Sure, but I wouldn’t think it would be worth being part-Ingling.”
 
Izumi rolls onto his side after a short pause, eyes narrowed. “Come again?”
 
“Healing comes from drakes,” Ritsu says patiently. “Creatures that regenerate
their own flesh all the time. Where do you think his death magic comes from?
Why do you think people have always hated necromancers?”
 
“I…I don’t know. He’s human, though. Even if he’s just got a sliver of
something back in there—Arashi has that, too, but he’s not that magical, not in
any way beyond being hard to kill. It’s not…magic to the degree that can level
a city. And summon dead things.”
 
Ritsu tilts his head to the side, ear almost touching his shoulder. “How do you
know that?”
 
“Observation? Common sense? You’re a half-blood, so you can do a lot of magic
on purpose—Arashi’s got something, I don’t know, weird? Back in there? But he
can’t do anything on purpose. That’s how Shu put it to me, I guess.” Izumi
shrugs. “Mika’s human. Unless his mom fucked an Ingling, which, um, sounds
pretty unlikely, right?”
 
“Someone’s had to have done it,” Ritsu says, unconcerned, and flops down,
resting his head on Izumi’s thigh. “If they’re a wizard, it doesn’t matter how
far back the link goes. If…if you had great-grandkids, for example, they could
draw from ice and do healing magic, even if that was the only drake in them.
But if they weren’t wizards, they probably couldn’t even heal a papercut.”
 
“So…what you’re really saying,” Izumi pieces together, setting his hand into
Ritsu’s hair again, petting him when his stress levels start to rise, “is that
no wizard is really completely human. Right? They can’t be, because they all
have…some kind of affinity for a certain creature’s magic, looking back. What
about Enhanced? They’re just humans that are trying too hard, right?”
 
“Yep. But uhhh, if you think about it…if we all used to live together with all
the other races…it’s not really that surprising that the blood got all mixed
around, right?” Ritsu shrugs. “Maybe the paladins are pure? But they’ve got all
that seraph power, so they’re weird. Tasty, though, my brother has a pet
paladin somewhere that he isn’t nice about sharing.”
 
“Too weird. Now I’m going to be thinking about all the weird mixes everyone
is,” Izumi mutters, then goes pale. “Fuck. Arashi can never know about Mika,
actually.”
 
“He doesn’t know? Then he’s dumb, everyone knows what necromancers are.” Ritsu
pauses. “Then again, I really only talk to demons or wizards. Huh.”
 
“He’s really dumb and he doesn’t want to know about magic. It freaks him out.”
Izumi pauses, his head tilting. “The North’s got a lot wrong, too. I grew up
hearing that drakes were just…the same thing as dragons, I guess? But they
liked being cold. What’s the real difference, anyway?”
 
Ritsu laughs. “Can you fly?”
 
“Obviously not. I’m asking if drakes are a kind of dragon, or is this a
difference like lizards and snakes? Because fuck lizards, snakes are much
better.”
 
Ritsu gnaws his lower lip for a moment, then calls his shadows again, sculpting
them into different creatures. “This is a dragon,” he declares, and a shadow
lengthens, a long thin tail with a spade-like tip at the end lashing, with a
huge triangular head and two enormous, batlike wings, covered in scales from
nose to talons. “This is a drake.”
 
The second creature is far smaller, hardly a third the size of the dragon. It
stands upright, a thicker tail clearly used for balance, lying plumply on the
ground behind it. Its head is far more rounded, with slit-pupiled eyes and long
fangs, but a snub nose with little flaring nostrils, twitching constantly.
Instead of scales, its skin looks beaded, glittering like blue-purple ice, in
start contrast to the dragon’s pure dark green. “See?”
 
“I can’t believe my mom fucked that,” Izumi mutters, shaking his head. “I’m so
glad I never met my father, and that I’m beautiful, and don’t have skin like
that. Also, dragons are no good either, pass on the scales. Do I know anyone
that’s a gross lizard person?”
 
“Eh? You mean, anyone whose mom fucked a dragon? Or am I missing something?”
 
“No, that’s the one. I mean, I figure anything’s possible if Mika’s Ingling-
something and Arashi’s archdemon-something. I’m starting to feel like I got the
long stick for once.”
 
“Uh, yeah. That’s why part-drakes are worshipped in the North. Also, except for
all the rape and kidnapping, they’re really easy to deal with? At least that’s
what I’ve always heard, pretty good personalities.” Ritsu scratches his head,
thinking. “Wataru’s Cloudbred, but that’s a funny term, because I’ve heard it
for the descendants of sidhe or dragons, because technically one is Airbred and
one is Skybred, so they get confused a lot in the mythology. I dunno which he
is.”
 
“Knowing that weirdo, he’s probably both,” Izumi grouses. “Does that mean
Bloodbred’s something made-up and not really a thing, too? Unless you’re a
Shadowbred that also slurps up human blood? I’m starting to think none of you
have a very concrete sorting system and that stresses me.”
 
“Oh. Yeah.” Ritsu looks supremely unconcerned. “Bloodbred is a sub-class, not
its own descendant Dominion group. Most demons don’t actually bother
reproducing, let alone sexually. Only female demons who drink a lot of human
blood even can. So, anyone who has any demon blood in them is a Shadowbred, but
if it comes down through the mother’s line, they’re also Bloodbred, because
female demons have to drink so much to carry to term. It’s kind of a colloquial
term, I guess. Depends what your folks used.”
 
“…and you had lots of siblings,” Izumi dryly says. “How many humans did your
mother slurp up?”
 
Ritsu’s face becomes a neutral mask. “There was a different Demon King back
then. She ate a village, each time she was pregnant. That’s why we’re so
strong. Her first children were weaker, she only killed a few for each. For us,
she stopped holding back. There are a couple of ghost towns in the Hinterlands
now where all of the people just vanished one day, drained dry so we’d grow up
powerful.”
 
“I’m not judging you. Just…asking.” He isn’t judging Ritsu; he is judging
Ritsu’s mother, just a bit, but in the same way he judges his own father, for
showing up, raping his mother, and leaving her with a very troublesome son.
“Sorry if I’m prying too much,” Izumi quietly adds, running his fingers against
Ritsu’s scalp. “I’m honestly curious. No one else can answer my questions, or
if they can, it’s all…half-truths, or, well—I’d never tell him this, but with
Shu—he just doesn’t know all of it.”
 
Ritsu lets his eyes close, butting his head against Izumi’s hand. “Humans are
really young,” he says softly. “They don’t have time to learn everything. And
if one person doesn’t learn and pass it on, their kids won’t ever know it.
You’re asking questions, that’s the best you can do. I’m old. If I can help you
out by passing along nursery rhymes and bedtime stories, that’s the least I can
do, right?”
 
“You help out a lot more than that.” Izumi bends down over him, pressing a kiss
to the side of Ritsu’s head. “Can I ask a really obnoxious question? At least,
I think it’s probably obnoxious; every wizard I’ve ever met has been cagey
about it.”
 
“I don’t care about other wizards,” Ritsu says, happy and affectionate now that
he’s being petted. “They have dumb secrecy laws, I’m a fucking prince. What is
it?”
 
“What was it like when you bloomed?”
 
The smile freezes on Ritsu’s face, then slowly fades. “Ah…yeah. I see why.”
 
He nuzzles more into Izumi’s shoulder, and breathes in deeply. “The reason a
lot of people aren’t going to want to talk about it…yeah, I get that. It wasn’t
as bad for me as for most, but still.”
 
He clears his throat, then blinks rapidly. “It starts out of nowhere. You start
seeing little flashes of color. Nothing when you look right at it. Just enough
to be annoying, like you’re near something shiny but you don’t know where the
reflection’s coming from. Hope you like that color, that’s going to be your
magic’s color when it’s mature. Then you start to feel kind of sweaty, like you
really want to be out of a small room, like you’re just kind of…have you ever
been nervous for no reason? Like that. But not too dramatic, just kind of
annoying if you’re in the middle of something.”
 
He swallows. “Then it happens. Everything goes—well, for me it went blue,
that’s my color. And it’s always a little bit different, depending on Dominion.
Most people wake up in the middle of a crater of some kind. Mine was pretty
big. And everything, everything even close…they were bleeding out. A thousand
cuts each. For Mika, I know he released his undead creatures all over the city,
I heard they declared it a natural disaster. And you don’t know about any of it
until you wake up, and…you know…most people are home with their families at
that age. No wonder no one wants to talk about it.”
 
“…Sorry for asking—it just always seems…I don’t know, insane, that it has to be
like that,” Izumi mutters, petting Ritsu’s back more firmly in an attempt to
bring him back to the level of relaxation he was at previously. “Mika will talk
about it, but he’s so crazy that I don’t think it’s the same level of
traumatizing for him. He told me a little about Rei’s, too—is there some reason
why his was supposedly so…gentle, or whatever? Or is that just another part of
why he’s an asshole, heh.”
 
“Nah, as much as I’d like to blame him, it’s because his dad was part-nymph. Or
Greenbred, or Grassling, or whatever they call them these days, it’s hard to
keep up.” Ritsu huffs. “My dad was no one special. Just lunch. So I’m blood
through and through.” He snuggle back down into Izumi’s chest, squeezing his
eyes shut to try and banish that smell, even after all these years. “It
wouldn’t have been so bad if they found me right away,” he says suddenly,
without meaning to. “I woke up a week later. And all the bodies…I’ve never
smelled anything like that. It was my teacher, and the other students at
school. We were…trying to be normal, before that.”
 
“Like battlefields in summer.” Izumi winces at that, and he rolls them,
crushing Ritsu firmly to the bed and forcing him to stuff his face into his
neck in the process. “Enough. I’m sorry I asked. I like your magic, it’s saved
my ass more times than I can count now. Rei’s is too…mm, you know those old
stories about faeries? The creepy ones that like to tempt you with a pretty
face and a promise of wealth and prosperity and excellent sex? Maybe it’s just
a Northern thing to warn boys to keep it in their pants…anyway, that’s what he
makes me think of all the time. More recently, of course, but he’s always
stressed me out, in a way. I keep having this feeling that I’m going to walk in
on Leo sucking his dick one day, don’t ask.”
 
“I mean, you probably will.” Ritsu shrugs. “My brother’s a sex wizard. Everyone
is basically on his radar. But just so you know, you’re thinking of the sidhe,
that’s what those stories are about. Not us.”
 
“…I dislike that. I dislike that so much. If he’s a sex wizard, why hasn’t he
fucked me? I’m objectively beautiful.”
 
“I dunno. He’s dumb. You’re my favorite ice candy.”
 
“I’m also way more magical. Right? Leo’s not some secret wizard, is he? You’ve
known the line of kings, you probably know better than anyone else—he’s not
secretly a demon, right?”
 
Ritsu snorts. “No way. If he has any blood in him, it’s just a hiiiiint of
paladin, so seraphim-origin, the whole royal line has a splash of it. A rogue
paladin was the first king, you know.”
 
“Thank the gods, I really didn’t want to deal with that. I’m already surrounded
by temperamental wizards—no offense—and Leo’s already questionable on a day-to-
day basis without anything extra added to the mix.”
 
“None taken, he’s a handful.” Ritsu yawns deeply, then shoves Izumi down to the
bed, curling up on his chest. “Too much talking, that’s enough of being awake
for one day.”
 
Izumi grumbles, but makes no attempt to pull away. Instead, he drags up the
blankets and furs, all the way up to Ritsu’s chin. “I need to get out of here
in the next couple of days,” he murmurs. “So don’t sleep too long, if you want
to keep appreciating my company.”
 
“Don’t be dumb. I’m appreciating you while I sleep.”
***** Chapter 51 *****
Chapter by daphnerunning
Magic. Everywhere.
 
It feels like the depths of the ocean, sand kicked up and scarring the
otherwise pristine, clear landscape with its spray, when hunters have come with
spears to stab and gut—or worse, with nets, to drag up from the depths and
enslave. This isn’t the ocean, no matter how much Kanata wishes it were—that
would be easier to process and grasp upon.
 
The currents of magic still bear a likeness to riptides. The Enhanced human,
Aida, and her magic, are a low thrum compared to the havoc she initially
wrought. Kanata hadn’t seen it, but had heard it—her greeting, a taunting
threat to her son, and then the expulsion of magic to follow, set off by the
various traps and charms placed about the slave quarters, tearing down the
walls around them, trapping countless, injuring even more.
 
“You can’t protect them!” Aida had laughed, her Sandtongue harsh over the
screams. It isn’t just screams of humans now, of the dying—but the screams of
the dead, the lashing out of Mika’s magic as the protection spell he’d been
casting goes awry, ripping out over the remains of the slave quarters, the
attached auction house, probably even the city—and Kanata reacts, just as Shu
does the same.
 
The initial blast of magic resembles a tsunami, set off by the ground’s
rumbling, and seems like nothing but a wave of dead, wailing spirits, cascading
towards them in ghostly white and violet light. Kanata grabs for Chiaki, hauls
him back from rushing forward, the initial barrier that he himself throws up
cracking like glass with the first strike of some ghastly dead thing surging
against it. Kanata’s teeth grit, and he shoves a long-nailed hand against it to
brace it, the surge of physical contact lending the magic its strength to keep
from dissolving further underneath not just Mika’s out of control necromancy,
but…Shu, reactive and panicked.
 
“Don’t…pull away from me,” Kanata breathes, eyes narrowed in concentration to
keep the barrier strong around them while the other magic still seethes in the
air, rushing by in long, swift courses. His other hand clamps around Chiaki’s
wrist. “Just wait. It has to die down, or we can’t help anyone.”
 
Captain Chiaki, decorated with nearly a dozen medals of valor earned in combat,
veteran of war and scrimmage and incursions, does not like fighting. The smell
and sound of battle make him sick, the sight of fearful faces turning his
stomach and squeezing his heart. The middle of a battle is the last place he
wants to be, but his hand falls to the hilt of his sword nonetheless. He
struggles under Kanata’s hands, knowing they’re stronger than his own muscles,
determined to try. “There are—kids in there,” he grunts out, face frantic. “I
can dodge, I’ll be safe, I can’t wait to save them!”
 
“You’ll die.” It’s a sharp snap of a warning, the usually slow, breathy way
that Kanata speaks fluttering away with a shrieking spirit that flies past
them. “And then I’ll die. Wait.”
 
A child screams, and tears streak down Chiaki’s face. Regardless of the
warning, he strains against Kanata’s hands again, yanking at his clothes.
“Please, please, let me go, Kanata, please—“
 
Kanata hisses through his teeth, frustration creasing his brow before he yanks
Chiaki closer, the bubble of magic around the two of them popping, then
reforming around Chiaki with a strange, wobbly movement. “Go,” he says,
releasing him to hastily turn and slice through the ghost that heads
immediately straight towards him with long nails. It splits in half around him,
only to reform behind him and continue on whatever course it had in mind. “But
don’t linger. I have to find Shu—Shu!!”
 
Chiaki sees Shu’s pink hair as he darts out, and ignores it. Shu is a good
friend, but he’s grown, and powerful, and doesn’t need Chiaki nearly as much as
the children do. His sword flashes out, carving directly through a hungry
ghost, with absolutely no effect. Undeterred, Chiaki simply grabs a small child
around the waist, then dashes out of the storm, setting the boy down under a
stone outcropping. “Stay here,” he shouts over the magic, taking a hit on his
back from something hard as magic whips through the air, raking at reality
itself. “I’ll be back!”
 
Shu tries to hold it together.
 
He doesn’t spare a look to the side for Kanata, his dear friend, struggling to
get to him. He doesn’t spare a look to Cupcake the Snog, slammed against a rock
wall after he’d bit that horrible woman, trying to stop her from getting at her
son. He doesn’t even spare a look for Rei, whose presence he feels like
something physical, pressing on his spirit.
 
Because if he looks up in the slightest, they’ll all die.
 
Mika’s spell was powerful, but now, with it ruined, his concentration in
tatters, his seal evaporated, his magic is free. The only thing keeping the
rampaging ghosts from destroying the entire country, killing everything the
touch…is Shu. His face is set in grim concentration, eyes hard and determined
as he raises his hands. His own seal is gone, discarded as useless in the
carnage, and he faces the whirling, destructive terror of death, and holds it
in, containing it to a hundred square feet of rampaging cyclone, bordered only
by Shu’s iron will. The ghosts scream and tear at him, opening bloody wounds in
his spirit and body, but he ignores them, hands steady as rocks.
 
Chiaki will be safe, Chiaki will be fine, I’m protecting him, there’s nothing
else I can do, Kanata firmly tells himself again, no matter the panic that
rises like bile in the back of his throat when he sees those ghosts brush
against Chiaki, feels them, deep down in his own soul. He sucks in a deep
breath and rushes forward, clawing his way over and around a shattered wooden
door, picking his way up over stones at a frantic speed that leaves his hands
bloody.
 
“Shu—Shu—“ Kanata stretches out a hand, and with it, long tendrils of magic,
desperate and glimmering pearlescent in the tornado of dead things. The ghosts
run into it, but can’t seem to eat it, and that’s a relief when those tendrils
wrap their way around Shu. “Draw on mine!” he shouts. “If there’s—if there’s
both of us, maybe—“
 
Shu doesn’t hesitate, drawing on Kanata’s magic immediately. At least, he
tries—only to slam into a magical wall, shut in his face, keeping him out.
 
“Here, my friend!” A hand catches Kanata’s other arm, strong and cool, and then
Wataru somehow reaches Shu’s hand, joining the three of them all together with
a fierce clasp, his hair whipping dangerously in the winds. “Take it through
me!”
 
For some reason, Wataru doesn’t have that wall, and magic floods into Shu,
bolstering his reserves, both water and air propping up his spirit, driving the
ghosts back. “It’s working,” he whispers through gritted teeth, eyes wide open
and streaming tears, not daring to falter even for a second.
 
Kanata clings to Wataru’s arm, nails cutting into his flesh as he holds on
tight. The wind rips out the tie to his hair, sending it whipping back as the
ghosts shriek and snarl, mindless in their attempts to claw at the three of
them, but no less vicious for their attempts.
 
“Master!”
 
Kanata’s head snaps up, and the sight of Natsume, nearly blown to the side with
every single step he takes, clawing his way towards them, teeth gritted, eyes
bright, comes into the field of his vision. “Lord Shu! Here—“
 
The extension of Natsume’s magic is brilliantly hot, glowing red and gold as it
snakes its way towards Shu. “We have to snap Mika out of it!” he shouts,
throwing himself forward to cling to a crumbled bit of stone wall so that he
isn’t simply swept away. “Lord Shu, can’t you—“
 
He’s dead.
 
It’s Rei’s voice that reverberates through Natsume’s mind—and the others’ as
well, by the look of recognition on their faces. Natsume’s own expression
falters, only for his eyes to snap wide with surprise when it’s his magic that
Rei gloms onto, using it as an anchor in lieu of distracting Shu by pulling
upon him. His grip loosens, and that’s enough for a ghost to slam into him and
rip him away into the wind with a yelp of surprise, only for him to be caught
by a lean, pale arm about his waist as Rei is suddenly there, eyes glittering,
his own nails cutting into the nearest bit of broken wood that he can hold
onto. “You can’t put a seal on a dead wizard,” Rei shouts over the cacophony,
crushing Natsume to his chest. “You have to banish it—he’s gone, Shu!”
 
Everything in Shu’s mind goes silent.
 
Dead?
 
No.
 
No, Mika couldn’t be dead.
 
Mika is his responsibility.
 
Dead?
 
What did Rei mean?
 
Oh.
 
Perhaps he means that sudden gaping hole in Shu’s soul.
 
It makes sense. If Mika were alive, his spell would have taken by now.
 
In hindsight, it seems obvious.
 
Well.
 
There isn’t much use in the world continuing any longer.
 
Wataru’s hand grabs Rei, steely as a vice, tucks him and Natsume under one arm,
Kanata under the other. His fey, immortal eyes are stark, face white in horror
as he yanks them away, taking to the air with each of them in hand, warning
everyone else in the vicinity with a terrified, psychic burst.
 
 RUN!
 
“Shu—no! No!”
 
The amount of effort it takes to rip himself out of Wataru’s hold dislocates
his shoulder, and leaves Natsume clinging to Wataru’s neck, frantically
grabbing on as Rei wrenches himself away, black, leathery wings unfurling from
his back as he dives away from him, hurtling straight back towards to the
ground. Rei stretches out a hand, rays of shadow whipping out from his
fingertips, reaching out desperately to grab onto Shu and wrench him away from
Mika’s body, from the middle of the ghastly tornado around him, but before a
single shred of magic can reach him and tear him away, maybe even stop him—Shu,
no, no, no, please, love, don’t do this, listen to me, please don’t!
 
The moment freezes, as if one second lasts a year. Shu doesn’t breathe. In an
instant, he opens an unrestricted channel to Rei, revealing what Rei has always
assumed, but never had confirmed, exactly what that golden eyeball had been
from the beginning, and the hole it leaves behind.
 
How does one live, when part of his soul has simply been ripped away and
destroyed?
 
But—
 
There’s still Rei.
 
That tiny glimmer of love is all that stops Shu from leveling all of the
Sandlands.
 
Time speeds up, and Shu grabs Rei’s hand, eyes flashing, as a splitting boom
cracks the air, and his magic simply explodes.
 
“No!” Natsume’s shriek is barely audible over the enormous, pink-violet
explosion of magic that follows, his hands tight around Wataru’s neck as he
clings there, trembling from head to toe. “No—Wataru, let me go, we have to—we
need to—“
 
The entire world seems to erupt in pale blue.
 
The color is blinding, filtering over the pink of Shu’s magic, the shadowy
filaments of Rei’s, the remaining slivers of ghosts, floating about and
howling, and Natsume has to look away, breathing hard. “W…what…what is that?”
he whispers, the noise coming to an abrupt stop.
 
“Wataru. If you don’t put me down,” comes Kanata’s very quiet, very dangerous
warning, “I will pull the sea from the sand and drag us under.”
 
Wataru nearly drops Natsume, so startled is he at the eruption of a magic he
hasn’t seen in a long, long time. He sinks down, feet brushing the ground,
releasing both Kanata and Natsume, though his arm still curls around Natsume’s
waist. “Preservation,” he whispers, eyes wide. “By all the stories and lies, it
can’t be—“
 
Shu collapses into Rei’s arms, shudders once, then goes still.
 
The look on Rei’s face is one of a man that honestly cannot believe he still
lives and breathes as he clutches Shu to his chest, wings curled around him
with the sharp, bony points of them dug down into the sand as if creating a
barrier.
 
Kanata hits the ground running, darting through the smoking rubble with far
more speed than he’s ever shown before, and launching himself full-body at
Chiaki, throwing his arms and legs about him with a shuddering breath.
 
“Preservation,” Natsume quietly echoes, latching himself to Wataru’s sleeve,
lingering a step behind him to partially hide behind him. “What…no, who? None
of us, so—“
 
Half-buried in sand, clothes tattered and hair thoroughly askew and singed,
Mika coughs and twists where he lays, trembling as his mismatched eyes slowly
crack open.
 
A hissing, spitting cry splits the air, and then suddenly the half-crushed form
of a bat wrenches itself free from where it’s been pinioned, bleeding horribly
from a wing that hangs by a fragment of bone. With another scream, it twists
and crunches into the form of a half-dead Ritsu, staggering forward until he
launches himself into that expanding blue glow, shuddering as his body starts
to heal, bones re-knitting, flesh melting back together. “Izumi!” he yells, red
eyes wild. “Someone—find Izumi! It’s him!”
 
“Ritsu? Ritsu!”
 
It’s Ritsu’s voice that makes another familiar face lurch up from the rubble,
this one of a very  wind-tousled, dirt-smudged Mao, his own eyes as wide as
saucers as he stumbles out from the mess. He spares a quick, hesitant glance
back at the veritable pile of slaves he leaves behind—all collected before the
blast for an escape, now huddled in terror, wide-eyed and
uncomprehending—before he lunges forward, grabbing onto Ritsu with all of the
strength left in his body. “You’re here,” he manages, somewhat in awe, before
forcing himself to snap out of it with a full-body shudder. “Sena—he was at the
back of the auction house when this started—I need a wizard to help, I can’t
seal him down myself.”
 
Ritsu’s whole demeanor changes. He smoothes down his hair, face crumpling, and
in a heartbeat, he goes from wild prince of a savage realm to someone barely
holding it together, a young man who needs help to stand after all his
injuries. He hangs from Mao’s neck, trusting and shivering. “I’ll protect you,”
he promises, pressing bloody-lipped kisses to Mao’s cheek. “I’ll be your
wizard, I’m good at it.”
 
“I will pet you so much after this, okay?” Mao promises on a ragged laugh,
wrapping his arms around Ritsu to push him back towards that blue glow, not
entirely understanding it, but certainly not trusting that Ritsu is fixed yet.
“Are you still hurt? Bleeding? Stand up straight, I’m not going with you if
you’re not okay. Keito, sir?” he calls out, whipping his head around. “You okay
back there? I’ll handle this, if you can do rounds on checking on everyone
else!”
 
“I’m fine! I just—Rei! Rei, can you hear me? Go, I’ll handle things here,”
Keito promises, checking bodies for wounds, performing triage on the worst-
injured, though he soon stops that and starts excavating, as every wound in the
surrounding area seems to be healing itself.
 
Ritsu sucks in a bit of that blue glow on purpose, his arm giving an audible
slurp sound as it pops back into its socket. “I’m fine,” he assures Mao,
clinging to him even so. “Take me to Izumi, he’s the one…doing this.”
 
“That was really disgusting, thanks,” Mao manages, and gives up trying to walk
with Ritsu attached to him. Instead, he simply hefts him up into his arms,
stumbling a little in the sand as he takes them back further into the
blindingly blue light, past the forms of adults and children alike, clinging
and crying to one another from a mix of relief and fear. “How is this Sena?”he
whispers.
 
“He’s blooming.” Ritsu wipes his hand down his face, smearing blood and sweat.
“He’s a wizard now. I haven’t seen an Icebred bloom, uh, ever, but can’t you
feel it? Shit, can’t you taste it? Izumi! Izumi, it’s all right! Come out, can
you—can you hear me? Wow, you got strong.”
 
“I don’t make a habit of tasting Icebred like you, you know,” Mao says with a
grunt, but the closer they get to the source, the colder it gets. Ice starts to
almost immediately crystalize on the ends of his hair, freezing sweat before it
can trickle down his face. “If this is a blooming, where are the dead?” he
groans, tripping over a fallen piece of wood buried into the sand with a yelp,
and drops Ritsu in the process, a spray of sand that mostly appears to be ice
crystals following.
 
One cold, pale hand shoots out, and immediately grabs Ritsu around the ankle.
 
Tucked back behind a pile of white stone rubble far larger than him is Izumi,
wide-eyed and trembling as he remains partially curled up, magic leaking from
every single pore. “Ritsu,” he whispers, voice hoarse, his eyes brilliantly
too-blue, pupils slitted.
 
Ritsu drops down to kneeling, grabbing Izumi’s hand with both of his own. An
icicle freezes on the tip of his nose, and he ignores it, though his body warns
him it’s been too long since he’s fed, that there’s no way he could possibly
survive this kind of thing after all he’d spent on the ride from the
Shadowlands. “You’re fine,” he whispers, squeezing Izumi’s hand, crawling even
closer, though his skin starts to turn blue. “You bloomed—you saved everyone,
all right? You saved everyone, you can go to sleep.”
 
“Ritsu—Ritsu, h-here.”
 
Teeth chattering, Mao claws his way up to his knees, ripping a dagger off of
his hip to swiftly slit his own wrist. It almost immediately heals, and he
curses, doing it again and lunging forward to shove it right underneath Ritsu’s
nose. “Drink,” he demands. “Then help me—l-let me latch onto your magic, so I
can s-seal him. New wizards can’t stop it, you know that, he’s g-gonna kill
himself.”
 
Frustrated, Ritsu bites deeply into Mao’s wrist, sucking up just enough to
survive—the way Mao’s skin writhes, trying to heal even around his fangs,
curdles even his stomach. That’s enough, that one mouthful, and he relaxes,
grabbing Mao’s hand, letting his power flow. “Help him,” he whispers, eyes
locked on Izumi’s pale form. “Please.”
 
Years and years of training, of sealing freshly bloomed wizards, still can’t
prepare Mao for this. Izumi is a half-blood, and far stronger than any other
newly bloomed wizard Mao has ever laid hands on. He can tell that the moment he
reaches out and tries to touch Izumi’s arm, feeling his own skin freeze before
he can even lay hands on him.
 
Mao sucks in a breath, and instead, draws the sigil of sealing in the air
rather than against Izumi’s skin. It flares to life with the backing of Ritsu’s
magic in the air, glowing dark red before it surges forward to bury itself into
Izumi’s chest, tamping down on the source of his power, directly over the thud
of his heart.
 
The unexpected kickback makes Mao gasp when Izumi’s magic flares, bitterly
cold, making him see stars as it surges one more time, knocking him flat to the
ground again before sucking back into his body like a tide receding all at
once. Izumi says nothing, does nothing except go as limp as a ragdoll, eyes
glazed as he sinks down to the sand, breathing shallowly.
 
“Did..did it work?” Ritsu whispers, eyes locked on Izumi. The icicle falls from
his nose, reacting suddenly with the heat of the Sandlands, and he surges
forward, stroking Izumi’s cheek. “He’s all right, right? He’s—he’s fine? Tell
me he’s fine, you’re so good at it, right?”
 
“The magic’s stopping,” Mao breathes, wincing as he picks himself up, feeling
very much like he got kicked in the chest by a horse. “I’m good at it, don’t
worry—he’s fine. He’s just—he’s got to rest for awhile, or he’ll be in trouble.
We’ve got to get him to the Academy, where he can be monitored, and we can get
his magic under control…fuck,” he groans, collapsing back down. “That hurt.”
 
Ritsu finally rips his eyes away from Izumi to check on Mao, sucking in a deep
breath, trying to kick his thoughts into normalcy. “Find…ugh. Find my brother.
He’ll know what to do with a blooming Icebred. Are you sure you’re all right?”
 
Mao nods, shaking himself off after another moment of shivering, relieved that
everything is starting to warm back up to acceptably deplorable Sandland
temperatures. “I’m fine,” he promises, straightening back to his feet and
staying there this time. “Just—stay with him. I’ll be back when I get someone
to help.”
 
Stumbling back towards the thick of the explosion, Mao looks for anyone that
seems vaguely coherent. His options are limited, especially when the area is
clogged with Sandland natives. “Excellency? Excellency? Gods, fuck it,” he
groans, rubbing his still frost-bitten arms. “Is there a damned wizard that
knows what to do with an Icebred? Whoa!”
 
Cupcake the snog lunges past him, nearly knocking him down again in the process
of launching himself onto a single woman, fangs bared and dripping venom before
they sink down into her throat. She goes down with a gurgling scream, flailing
underneath the snog as he pins her down, spines flared out down his back—and
Mao recognizes her, belatedly, as Mika’s mother Aida, healed…though not for
long. “S…someone put a leash on that thing,” he whispers, sidestepping around
the scene.
 
“I wouldn’t do that,” a voice drawls.
 
Kaoru looks ragged, bloody, and exhausted, though his posture suggests lazy
cheer. The bracelet winding through his fingers drips blood, the sword in his
other hand has clearly been recently used, and the way he stands is meant to
suggest laziness, but is most likely a limp. “If she gets free, your master is
done for. I mean, she won’t get through me, but…let’s just let the horrible
beastie look after its master, hmm?”
 
Mao’s head jerks up, hand on the knife in his belt reflexively before he slowly
relaxes, trembling where he stands. “Where is he? My master?” He remembers
those massive black wings, curled up around Shu in a protective embrace, but
now he can’t spot them in the crowd, and the pull of their oath is a dim thing.
That means one of two things—Rei is far, or Rei is muted…or empty. That’s less
likely, but it still makes Mao anxious. Bastard. “A wizard just bloomed. I need
him.”
 
“Let’s just say…” Kaoru nods at the woman, not taking his eyes off of her. “If
she gets free, she’ll make trouble for him, maybe even kill him. Go find him,
I’ll keep watch. And intervene, if I have to.”
 
Paladins. Mao’s mouth purses, but he nods, a bow of his head following that
before he forces himself to make his way through the rubble and mess of people,
grabbing onto the traces of Rei that he can feel.
 
Muted, not wanting to be found. That’s the answer. Mao finds that out when he
rounds the mess of stone and piles of sand that used to make up the front of
the slaves quarters, and finds Rei there, the newly formed dunes serving as a
temporary shelter for himself, Shu, and a very unconscious Mika. Rei, for his
part, looks pale and drawn, the mess of his hair
singed at the edges as it tumbles down his back, and Mao bows in greeting,
uninterested in crossing him. “Excellency,” he quietly greets. “I found him.
I…I need help getting him to the Academy; he needs to be monitored carefully.”
 
Rei lifts his head, long fingers drumming slowly against his own arm. “Shu.”
It’s the first thing he’s actually said to his bonded, and his voice feels
alien on his tongue. “It was Izumi after all.”
 
Shu lays next to Mika, between his limp form and Rei, one hand in Mika’s, one
in Rei’s, his energy pulsing oddly. “Ah,” he finally manages, and doesn’t
recognize the sound of his own voice. “That makes…sense.”
 
“There, now, all safe and sound!”
 
That too-loud-but-still-weary voice is Chiaki, setting a small, crying child on
a toppled wall, next to a dozen or so others, all of whom look shaken,
sometimes injured, dust-covered, but alive. Chiaki’s shirt is rent in several
places, the rags soaked with sweat, but he doesn’t falter, immediately diving
back into the rubble. “If there’s anyone still trapped, call out! I’ll come
help!”
 
Mao pauses, glancing back over his shoulder at the scene that Chiaki makes
before looking back to Rei. “I need a wizard to monitor him,” he repeats,
because it’s likely he wasn’t being listened to the first time. “Should I…find
someone else?”
 
“Does it look like I can move right now?” Rei snaps, rounding on Mao in a split
second, fangs out and bared. He doesn’t release Shu’s hand, and if anything,
squeezes tighter. “Figure it out!”
 
Mao hastily backtracks, not bothering to say another word, and hurriedly makes
his retreat to search out someone that can focus right now, and didn’t nearly
have their mate die. The pickings are slim, and his choices make him cringe as
he catches the tail end of silvery blue hair…and makes a choice. “Excellency?
Excellency, um, I—I have a freshly bloomed Icebred and I need a wizard’s
assistance, please—“
 
Wataru turns, startled, looking down at Mao as if he’s something Wataru has
never considered before. “You are quite small, aren’t you?” he asks, sounding
surprised. His head tilts to the side, and he nods, making a decision. “I think
I’d like to help you. Kitten, do you want to come with me, or must you retreat
to somewhere with fewer possibilities?”
 
“Huh?” Natsume’s head whips around, his eyes glassy and unfocused before he
shakes himself off like a dog fresh out of a bath. “I can help,” he mumbles,
still clearly not seeing much of what’s around him, in so many words, and
reaches out to grab a handful of Wataru’s hair to ground himself.
 
Not both of them, Mao bemoans, but he bites his tongue, bowing his head.
Wataru, at least, seems to be far more manageable than his days underneath the
previous Emperor. “Thank you, Excellency. Um, this way, please—I would have
asked His Excellency the Emperor, but he’s…rather preoccupied, and I don’t know
how to properly transport a wizard with this sort of power, the seals are too
delicate…”
 
“That’s because they were done by a human,” Wataru assures him, though he isn’t
trying to be condescending. “I’ll take him off of your hands, little Enhanced.”
He picks his way among the rubble, feet light on upturned stones. “Those
two…Rei and Shu? They’ll need to go somewhere to heal from all of this, you
know. Somewhere very safe. You seem like the kind of responsible child that
takes those sorts of responsibilities upon himself.”
 
Mao hesitates, but he nods, even as he refuses to turn away just yet. “Ritsu
will want to go with him,” he quickly adds, trailing after Wataru now as he has
to scramble over the rocks that Wataru seems to more or less float over. “Don’t
take them anywhere weird—straight to the Academy, that’s the law!”
 
“Oh, I don’t care about the law at all,” Wataru assures him, patting Mao on the
shoulder. “It’s been rewritten so many times, after all. Shall I do as I would
have under Eichi’s laws, do you think?”
 
“…I’m getting someone else,” Mao wearily says, wiping a hand down his face.
“Forget it—forget I said anything, I’ll handle it—“
 
“If we don’t take them to the Academy,” Natsume very seriously interrupts,
clutching harder at Wataru’s hair, “that will be…very…not…good.”
 
“Oh. All right, then, the Academy it is.” Wataru’s voice is airy and light, and
he nearly glides down over the rocks, kneeling at Izumi’s side, brushing Ritsu
gently away. “It’s all right, my Prince. I’m here to take him to safety.” One
finger sketches a seal, which he then extends a hand to slam into Izumi’s
chest, locking down every last fragile drip of magic, though Izumi doesn’t
stir. “Oh, my. Quite strong, isn’t he?”
 
Ritsu looks up at Mao, raising an eyebrow. “Bringing Wataru was…a choice.”
 
“Sorry,” Mao weakly says, shrugging helplessly. “Your brother…can’t, right now,
and I don’t think anyone else is strong enough, or able to move him, like His
Excellency Wataru can.”
 
Natsume leans around Wataru from behind, curiously eyeing Izumi through his
lashes. “He feels…different,” he settles upon, dangling from Wataru’s shoulder.
“Is he going to get scales? Like a real drake?”
 
“Real drakes have beads,” Wataru says, before Ritsu can. “Dragons have scales.
He’ll probably sparkle in the sunlight, isn’t that nice? Ahhh, it’s been so
long since I knew an Icebred wizard, I hardly remember how to care for one. I
do hope the Academy is prepared.”
 
“If you let him turn the Academy to ice, that will be very, very bad,” Mao
groans, wiping a hand down his face and smearing the dirt on it even further.
“Ritsu—can you please go with him? To make sure this is taken care of properly?
I trust you.”
 
Anything Ritsu was about to say dies on his tongue, and he purrs a little,
tongue flicking out between his teeth, rubbing his hair against Mao’s thigh.
“I’ll do it. For you. But then…after that, you gotta spoil me for a while. And
tell me stories about being a prostitute, I’m gonna bathe you or something.”
 
Wataru lifts Izumi gently from the ground, holding him to his chest. “Horses, I
think? I doubt I have enough energy to keep flying.”
 
Izumi, as limp as a noodle, stays that way, draped in Wataru’s arms, far from
waking. Mao spares him a last, worried glance before he bends to pet Ritsu’s
head, expression fond. “I could have a million baths, honestly,” he confesses.
“After I get to spoil you, of course. Did you ride in on a demon mare? Can you
summon her, or should I?”
 
“I can do it,” Ritsu murmurs, eyes lidding as the last of the adrenaline leaves
him. “But I want you to do it. I like how you look when you do magic. Sexy.”
 
“Save it,” Mao warns with a roll of his eyes, even as he pats Ritsu’s head a
last time, and pulls his hand away to fish out a summoning stone from one of
the pouches strapped to his waist. He crushes it in his fist, the fine, red
dust filtering away into the air that he swiftly sears a rune through. The
magic burns in the air, smelling of fresh coals, and the hot breath of Bitch
Two soon breathes against the back of Wataru’s neck, her low, dangerous snort
following. “There. Ride carefully, and she should be able to carry all of you.”
 
“And you,” Ritsu insists, reaching over to grab Mao’s wrist. “You’re coming,
too, right? You gotta…I dunno, introduce us at the Academy, I gotta wash you.”
 
“Later,” Mao firmly says, switching Ritsu’s grip to grasp his hand tightly.
“Once everything is settled here. Your brother, His Excellency Shu…they aren’t
okay, and I have to help.”
 
Ritsu huffs, and climbs onto Bitch Two, who knickers softly, leaning down to
nose at Izumi’s leg. Ritsu thumps her across the forehead before she can take a
chunk out. “I guess it’s okay to make sure my dumb brother doesn’t die. Protect
yourself, yeah? And come soon?”
 
“As soon as I can,” Mao promises, patting Ritsu’s leg. “Take care of him. And
yourself, idiot. Get some sleep.”
 
Bitch Two leaps over the rubble around her, disappearing off through the desert
while barely kicking up sand as she moves. Mao’s shoulders sag, an odd, empty
feeling returning the moment Ritsu is out of sight, but he forces himself to
move back into the thick of the mess. “Keito, sir?” he calls out, weaving
around the odd flutters of magic that still keep flaring up like steam. “I need
your input, if you have a moment?”
 
Keito straightens up, from where he’s standing near Rei, his clothes covered in
dust, looking worn and haggard. “Of course I have a moment,” he says, voice
hoarse. “Why would I be busy? What is it?”
 
“…Wataru mentioned something about…Rei and Shu needing to be somewhere very
safe,” Mao lowly says, sparing a wary glance over at the two of them. “But I’m
afraid to try and move them. I think you are, too, if you haven’t forced the
issue yet. If you think you can talk to him better than me, I’ll take over
working with everyone else so you aren’t spread so thin.”
 
Keito sags in relief, and rests a hand on Mao’s face, thumb stroking softly.
“You’re a good kid,” he murmurs. “Try to organize a relief effort, I’ll deal
with the powerful lunatics on death’s door.”
 
Mao wobbles a little underneath the touch before he nods, presses a kiss to the
inside of Keito’s palm, then steps back with a short bow of his head. “I’ll
handle it, sir. If you need anything, just call for me—I promise I won’t be far
off.”
 
“And same, if you need me. Don’t overextend yourself,” Keito warns, and takes a
deep breath. “Just looking at you gives me strength. Sorry, that’s
embarrassing.” He turns away, cheeks flushing as he takes off across the uneven
rubble, slipping and banging a few joints before he finds Rei and Shu. “Are you
alive, either of you?”
 
Rei’s eyes sharply turn, trained on Keito. His pupils are narrow, diamond-
shaped, and the red of his irises is too bright, glittering as he watches Keito
move, just like a feral animal guarding its mate. “We’re alive,” he lowly says,
as if speaking too loudly will disturb Shu and by proxy, Mika, curled up
against Shu’s side and sleeping open-mouthed. “Do you need something?”
 
“To take all of you somewhere safe?” Keito suggests, keeping his voice even-
toned so not to spook any of them. “And after that…I wouldn’t mind hearing what
the hell happened.”
 
Rei hesitates visibly. He shifts where he leans, his fingers curling against
Shu’s palm, as if the idea of releasing his hand is akin to being run through
with a sword. “I can’t move him,” he finally settles upon. “He’s too weak. So
am I.”
 
“Ah…perhaps a wagon?”
 
“If anyone else touches him, I’ll kill them.”
 
“Ah. So, is it that you want to stay here, outside, in the middle of a city you
just destroyed?”
 
“I’m telling you the stipulations surrounding moving.”
 
Keito looks down at Shu, then up at Rei, and sighs. “You can’t possibly think
my arms are up to this.”
 
Rei’s lips purse, and he looks away, thinking, and smashing down the instinct
to kill everything that moves within his field of vision. “Kaoru,” he settles
upon. “If he isn’t wounded.”
 
“Last I saw, he’s watching one of those awful spiny creatures devour some
Enhanced. I’ll see if that’s…done.” Keito pauses, then adds, much more quietly,
“I thought I’d lost you.”
 
“We’re not talking about that right now.” Slowly, Rei slides down, coming to
rest in the sand again when his legs decide it’s much better to sit than be
imposing. “Later, Keito. Please.” He shuts his eyes for a moment, then glances
up through the sweaty fall of his bangs. “Are you all right?”
 
“For a fragile human,” Keito says dryly. “I think I actually escaped rather
lightly. That was, um, terrible, and I’m still not entirely sure what most of
it was.”
 
“The Sena heir bloomed. And prior to that, Mika lost control, so now we all
know what that looks like, and that five Nightcloaks can’t do a damned thing
about it.”
 
“Oh? I thought it was, ah, somewhat contained.” Keito swallows. “Until Shu blew
up the city.”
 
“We can nitpick the mechanics later,” Rei mutters, his head thunking back
against a bit of stone and sand. “Find Adonis, too. The palace will do nicely
as a stay-over, so long as Kuro…settled things with the royal family as
instructed.”
 
Mika stirs where he lays, but doesn’t wake, save to more firmly grasp the front
of Shu’s tunic. Rei exhales a slow breath. “And whatever you do—keep Mika’s
lover at an arm’s distance. I can’t handle that right now.”
 
“Your prince is a bit busy at the moment,” Keito informs him, taking a seat on
a crumbling balustrade, now on its side. “Ah, my knee does crunch lately. By
Mika’s lover, is that who you mean? I’m not a gossip like you.”
 
“The Western Lord, Arashi,” Rei wearily answers, shutting his eyes again in an
attempt to crush that horrific instinct to rip to shreds the nearest thing that
as much as breathes on his mate. That won’t do. “Assuming he’s stuck around.”
 
A slow pulse of love and comfort, flavored with Shu’s music, flows into Rei’s
mind as his eyes flutter open. My lord?
 
“I’ll see what I can do,” Keito answers, oblivious of Shu’s stirring. “Oh, and
if you’re wondering? Your Wavebred friend and his Captain got all of the
children out, no more than minor injuries to any of them.”
 
“Thank you,” Rei manages, the response at least polite and vaguely relevant to
anything enough that it might sound like he’s paying attention before he
swiftly turns all focus to Shu, squeezing his hand and shifting to stroke his
hair with the other one. My love—just rest, I’ll have us taken to safety soon.
 
Shu closes his eyes again, in obvious pain, He feels as if his soul has been
torn apart—which, in retrospect, it has. Hurts. Sorry.
 
“I’ll just go find some paladin, then,” Keito mutters, standing and walking off
when it becomes obvious that Rei no longer cares.
 
Relax. We’ll fix it. Rei slides down further, curling himself around Shu, his
lips pressing to his forehead. You did what you needed to do. Mika’s alive.
 
 How?
 
Shu’s lip trembles, and he winds his arm around Rei’s neck, feeling exhausted
and empty, shaking and overstimulated, raw all over as if he’s been dragged a
hundred miles naked on the sand. I felt him die.
 
The Sena heir. Rei knows he’s said it once before, but Shu was far from
coherent then (perhaps less now, but that doesn’t matter). Gently, Rei tugs him
closer, as if moving his physical form will jostle his soul. Mika clings to
Shu’s hip, still unconscious. I don’t know what damage has been done, if any,
but…he’s alive. You can feel him, right?
 
I think. Sort of.There’s still panic in Shu’s mental voice, and he shivers down
to his bones, though not from cold. Not the same as before. The piece of me
that was in him—I think it’s dead. Oh, gods, I think it’s gone.
 
Shh. Shh, relax, love, that’s fine. You’re fine, he’s fine.The twinge of pain
that goes through Rei’s own soul certainly confirms what Shu feels, but for
now, he needs to ignore that. You don’t need a whole soul to survive. Even if
you did, I’d just give you some of mine. We’ll smooth over the cracks and it
won’t hurt, I promise.
 
Stupid. I wasn’t—good enough, smart enough, I wasn’t enough to help.Shu’s
mental voice is tinged with panic, maybe even madness. Never should have—too
arrogant—too self-righteous—
 
“It grows back.”
 
Kaoru’s voice is low, gentle, as he kneels down next to Rei, his eyes glowing
white as he uses his Sight. “The missing parts of your lover, Rei. They’ll grow
back.”
 
Rei jumps, startled when his entire focus has been on Shu, and nothing else in
the world around them. His instinctive reaction is to crush Shu into his chest,
fangs bared, his own body trembling from the effort, but it’s Kaoru—and so he
forces himself to calm down, no matter how his nerves remain on high alert. You
heard that, right, love? His fingers curl against Shu’s spine. It’ll grow back.
Kaoru’s a paladin, he knows.
 
 He feels…nice.
 
“You want me to do something?” Kaoru asks softly, fingers touching the necklace
hanging unused under his torn shirt. “I can maybe soothe him a bit. We’re not
just fighters, you know.”
 
“…I’m going to let him help you feel better,” Rei quietly says aloud, his voice
sounding strange in his ears as he whispers against Shu’s hair. “Then you can
say you’ve been blessed by a paladin. When you wake up, it’ll be in my bed. All
right?”
 
“As long as you’re there,” Shu rasps, not trusting his eyes to open just yet.
“And Mika, I can’t…I can’t feel him the same way anymore, you have to keep him
close.”
 
Kaoru pulls the necklace out from his neckline, revealing a set of concentric
silver circles, each freely moving from each other, the largest the size of his
palm, the smallest the size of a thumb joint. He whistles a note, high and
pure, and the circles start to spin, each at an odd angle to the one just
inside of it, as he passes the gadget over Shu’s prone form.
 
Slowly, Shu’s shuddering ceases, and he falls into a deep, untroubled sleep.
Kaoru lets the note die away, finally inhaling as the necklace stops spinning.
“He should sleep for a couple of days,” he says, putting it away and wiping the
sweat from his brow. “Ugh, remind me to keep in practice, that never used to
take so much out of me. If I keep doing real paladin work, my family might
actually take me back someday. Gross.”
 
“That won’t happen, not when I assert my claim over you properly,” Rei
breathlessly laughs, stroking a gentle hand through Shu’s hair before he slowly
pulls himself away, wincing as he climbs to his feet. “I’m afraid of what will
happen if I can’t get him to the Academy sooner, rather than later,” he quietly
says. “Especially when Mika wakes. I don’t trust him to be able to control his
magic while awake now. Will you help me?”
 
Kaoru’s smile is fond, but he can read the room, and doesn’t extend a hand to
touch Rei, leaving his arms folded easily on his lap. “You don’t really need to
ask,” he says, shrugging one shoulder. “I gave you my life a long time ago.
What do you want me to do?”
 
“Find someone still able-bodied enough to bring a wagon here. There’s no way I
can transport him magically right now, he’s…” Rei trails off, distracted as he
thinks about it and tries to put it into words, and he shivers, shaking his
head. “It feels like he’s pulling on me,” he mutters. “Constantly. When he let
his magic loose—when he grabbed my hand—I swear to god he sucked me dry, too,
to make sure all of us would be brought down. I…” He falters again. “I know you
can’t stay at the Academy, but if you would escort us, I’d feel a lot safer.”
 
Kaoru stands, dusting off his breeches, and stretches his hands up over his
head, hearing his back crack. “Ahh, definitely getting too old for this.
Listen, I don’t want to go to the Academy, but if you need me I’ll sit in the
Emperor’s tower itself. Give me ten minutes, I’ll find you a wagon. And if not,
I’ll fucking make one. Hold tight.”
 
Relief makes Rei’s shoulders sag. “Thank you,” he says, exhaling a rag
ed sigh. “I really do appreciate it. Kaoru—I’m in your debt. Do something about
that at some point, would you?”
 
“Put the tits on and I’ll think about it,” Kaoru says, giving him some
approximation of a roguish wink before jogging off. He’s back in less than the
ten minutes he’d said, looking satisfied. “There’s a boy with a cart, he’s
bringing it by in a minute. I think you lost your bhenda, by the way.”
 
“…Lost as in he’s dead, or lost like someone scooped him up off his feet and
carried away like he’s been begging me to?”
 
“That one. The prince from down here, they’re just standing there gazing into
each others’ eyes, super gross.”
 
“Oh! Oh, good,” Rei sighs, relieved. “They were friends from some time ago. I’m
glad they’ve reconnected. I was going to gift Souma to him, anyway, in an
attempt to get rid of him. I never wanted to acquire a bhenda, you know.”
 
“Uh huh. I know how they get acquired, you know. I was there.”
 
“I didn’t say I wasn’t hungry.”
 
“You’re a disaster, is what you are.”
 
“Scold me more, it’s giving me strength,” Rei groans. “I should go make a
public appearance before I leave—or should I? Tell me no one’s dying, and I’ll
give up.”
 
“Anyone dying is out of your control, how about that?” Kaoru suggests.
“Seriously. There are lots of do-gooders out there. No one cares what you have
to say.”
 
“That’s what I want to hear.” Rei shuts his eyes and sags back again,
dissolving into the sand. “I’m so tired. Put me to sleep for a week, too.
Don’t, not really, but I like thinking about it.”
 
“Don’t tempt me. You’d be a lot more useful when you wake up, you know.” Kaoru
dangles the necklace in front of Rei’s face. “You sure?”
 
Rei hesitates, obviously considering it. “Can you snap me out of it and wake me
up if you need to?” he settles upon.
 
The look Kaoru lives him is affronted. “Don’t insult me, I can control my
jewelry. But if you want to do me a favor, climb into the wagon and then let me
spell you, you’re heavy.”
 
“I don’t know a damned thing about how paladins work, there are plenty of
sleeping spells that wizards cast that can’t be broken,” Rei grumps. “Fine.
I’ll sleep for the trip—at least some of it, so long as you can wake me up if
there’s danger, and once we’re back at the Academy.”
 
“Yes, I don’t know how I’ll make a three-day trip without the big strong wizard
protecting me,” Kaoru says dryly, as a pimply teen boy leads his horse close.
“I promise, I promise. Now help me get him into the wagon.”
 
“I’m going to be instinctively concerned about my mate, you ass, cut me some
slack,” Rei bemoans, summoning the last of his strength to carefully hoist up a
very limp Shu and Mika into his arms all at once. “They can’t be separated
right now,” he grunts. “I don’t know what will happen if they are. More ghosts,
maybe.”
 
Kaoru stares at the limp forms, then flips the cart boy a few coins, hopping
into the driver’s seat and taking the reins. “So, fun question. What the fuck
are they? They’re not bonded like you and him, right?”
 
“I suppose in so many words…it’s a very similar thing.”
 
Rei pulls off his own cloak, tucking the tattered remains of it around Shu and
Mika. He runs a thumb over Shu’s cheek before he sits back, shutting his eyes.
“Shu gave him a piece of his soul. That oddly colored eye of Mika’s—I always
suspected it was magical in nature, but Shu cloaked it so well, and refused to
tell me, that I couldn’t confirm it.” His lips twist wryly. “I always said they
were a set. They truly are, I suppose.”
 
“Why would he do something like that?” Kaoru asks, trying to hide just how
horrifying that sounds, though surely, Rei can hear how scary such a thing
sounds. “I didn’t even pick up anything weird about that eye. Your bonded…he’s
pretty scary.”
 
“Oh, yes.” Rei flops backwards against the side of the wagon. “He could level
this entire world, I think. He wanted to.” A corner of his mouth twitches up.
“I think he gave Mika that eye to…properly seal him. I’ve seen Mika’s magic
before. It’s been wild, uncontrolled, but not like this. This was a different
kind of uncontrolled. That’s how he came to the Academy, apparently, and Shu
took it upon himself to fix that. I didn’t realize exactly how much there was
to fix until now.”
 
“And Shu…took his eye? For that reason?”
 
“His eye was already gone—sold, when he was a prostitute down here. Shu
replaced it.” Rei flutters a hand. “An easy spot to hide a seal in plain sight,
I suppose.”
 
Kaoru whistles low through his teeth, urging the horse onto the main road,
leaving the horror and devastation of the Sandlands behind. “Good thing he
likes you, right? You want to be spelled now?”
 
A flash of movement catches Kaoru’s eye, and he turns, bracelet through his
fingers before a breath passes. The next moment, he relaxes, as Cupcake the
Snog leaps into the back of the wagon, spines slicking back, leaving bloody
trails from his snout as he curls around Mika’s other side.
 
“Birds of a weird feather,” Kaoru mutters.
 
Rei wrinkles his nose, recoiling from the creature. “Disgusting, honestly,” he
mutters. “Shu would hate to know that thing was here. Or gods, would he, he’d
probably think it was cute, too.”
 
He drags over a few burlap sacks, fashioning some kind of a pillow to collapse
back onto. “I know you think this is all dangerous and terrifying,” he says.
“Regretfully, the demon in me finds Shu’s ability to wreck havoc upon the
entire world very attractive. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into him again. Put
me to sleep, I need to stop talking before you hate me.”
 
Kaoru snorts, and whistles again, letting his odd necklace spin, until Rei is
as deeply asleep as Shu. Only then, when he puts it away, and Rei doesn’t
respond even to a hard shove to the shoulder, does Kaoru whisper, “Idiot. I
could never hate you.”
 
The snog gurgles.
 
“Shut up. No one is talking to you.”
End Notes
     Yes, a part 3 is coming.
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