Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9149.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Doctor_Who
  Relationship:
      Theta/Koschei
  Character:
      Theta, Koschei, Ushas
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Dubious_Consent, Rape/Non-con_Elements
  Stats:
      Published: 2008-06-17 Words: 1780
****** Trust ******
by teyla
Summary
     All Koschei wants from him is trust.
Notes
     Emotional manipulation and mindfuckery. Koschei was as much of a
     possessive bastard at the Academy as the Master is in later years.
     Beta: Neery, Earlwyn, LF2871
Later on, Theta didn't know why he'd even let her get this far. Ushas was nice
enough, a good pal to hang out with, but she also scared him a little. When
she'd sat down beside him in that deserted corner of the library, he hadn't
suspected anything. He'd willingly gone with her when she'd told him that she
wanted to show him something in her room--he hadn't known how to refuse, and
he'd been curious. When she'd shoved him against the door and had started
kissing him, her hands on his shoulders, her long fingers pressing into his
skin and her mind pushing, trying to invade his thoughts, he'd been too
surprised and mortified to protest.
He had protested a moment later, when her fingers had found their way from his
shoulders to the clasps of his tunic, had shoved her away and bolted, but it
had already been too late. He'd kissed her, her mind had left an imprint in his
thoughts, and he hadn't been able to hide it.
When Koschei came by later that night, when he ran his fingers over Theta's
cheek and gently touched his mind, the first thing he saw was the proof of
Theta's betrayal.
"You little whoring shit." Koschei had backed off and was standing in the
middle of Theta's pitifully small room, his voice very low, his eyes wide and
blazing. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't notice?"
"Kos, it's not like that." Theta's voice was choked. He got to his feet,
reached out, but did not touch Koschei. "Really, it's not, you have to believe
me!"
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not! Please, Kos, I'm not." He sought out Koschei's eyes, saw the anger
and the hurt and the hate there, and swallowed. "Nothing happened, I promise.
She only kissed me. I didn't want her to, but she -"
"She what? Forced you? Tied you down? I seem to remember that you actually
enjoy that."
"Please, Kos, I wouldn't do something like this. You know I wouldn't."
"Do I?" Koschei's expression had gone from livid anger to a cold, hard stare.
Theta licked his lips and backed off a few steps, feeling his hearts pound a
rapid cacophony in his chest. "All I know," Koschei continued, and he took a
step forwards, cruel anger radiating from him, "is that when I touch you, I can
feel her presence in your mind. That's not how it's supposed to be, don't you
agree?"
"I'm sorry, Kos." The tears he'd been trying to hold back spilled over, cold
wetness creeping down along his cheek, and Theta hated himself for it, for
showing this weakness that he knew Koschei would find disgusting. "I'm really
sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen, and I'm so sorry, but really, she only
kissed me. Just a kiss, nothing more."
"Why should I believe you?"
Theta swallowed and didn't answer, just felt behind himself, his fingers
brushing over the cool stone surface of the wall behind him. He pressed his
back against it as Koschei moved in even closer.
"All I know is what I saw in your mind, Theta. And I know that you waited until
I had to find out for myself. If nothing at all happened, why didn't you tell
me in the first place?"
That was a good one: why hadn't he? It was simple enough, really; he'd been
scared, of angering Kos, of losing him. In the end, it hadn't really made a
difference. "I'm sorry," he said again and bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Kos."
"Not good enough."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut; was this Kos telling him that they
were over, that he'd ruined it? Theta reached out, wanting to touch his lover,
to keep him close and make him change his mind, but Koschei was faster. He
grabbed Theta's face with both hands, his fingertips digging into the skin of
his scalp and his temple, his face mere inches from Theta's own.
"Telling isn't good enough, Theta. You'll have to show me."
And suddenly, he was right there, Koschei was in the middle of his mind, an
angry, mad presence so different from the usual gentle touch that it made Theta
cry out and clutch at Koschei's shoulders. Hot, white anger flooded Theta's
consciousness, and he could feel the heat of Koschei's fingers on his skin,
burning him.
Show me.
He didn't really have a choice; the memory surfaced like a fresh piece of wood
in the water, much clearer and sharper than Theta would ever have been able to
remember it on his own. There was Ushas, smiling at him in the library, putting
her hand over his, and don't you dare claim you didn't know what was going on;
you're dumb, but not that dumb; him following her to her room only to have her
practically jumping him. There's surprise and shock, and there's anger, a mad
fury that makes Theta moan again, and then Ushas' lips on his, her hands and
mind all over him, and it hurts, a lot more than he remembers, because it's
wrong and it should hurt. Her fingers find the clasp of his tunic, and in a mad
rush, Theta pushes her away, making her expression go from lust to surprise to
anger, and for a split-second there, he can glimpse through Koschei's mind into
her thoughts, and what he sees makes him grow cold, much colder than he's able
to stand, and their mental connection breaks and shatters into tiny pieces.
Theta's hands were still on Kos' shoulders, and suddenly there were arms around
him, pulling him in close. Theta pressed close to Koschei and held on, hiding
his face in the warm hollow of Koschei's neck, gasping and trying to catch his
breath, moisture making his eyes burn.
There were shushing sounds in his ear, Koschei's voice telling him that it was
okay, it was over, he believed him, and Theta curled his fingers even tighter
into the fabric of Kos' tunic.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen -"
"I know, I know, I saw, it's okay." Koschei's voice was as tender now as it had
been cruel before, and his fingers were running through Theta's hair,
soothingly. "It's okay, I know you didn't mean it, it's okay now."
Koschei's fingers found Theta's temples again, but the touch was so much
gentler now, so much more like the tender touch Theta was used to; Kos'
thoughts a reassuring presence in his mind rather than a ruthless intruder, and
Theta couldn't comprehend how they could have been the same thing. He felt Kos'
thumbs on his cheeks, wiping away the tears.
"I'm sorry," he said again, and through a slightly blurry haze, he could see
Kos nod.
"I know," he said. "I know you're sorry. It's okay." Then Kos leaned in to kiss
him, and he was there once more, right in his mind, another set of thoughts
asking for admission; gently, carefully, respectfully. Theta reached out,
mentally and physically, and they embraced, and while just a few moments ago,
this presence had been a hurtful force tearing his memory from his mind, it was
also Kos, whom he had accepted so often into his thoughts and who he knew would
never harm him.
Their lips met, and the embrace became more physical, Theta's crotch pressing
against Kos' thigh. Warmth was spreading from the centre of his body and was
picked up by his lover and amplified in his mind. Theta moaned again, but this
time not from pain.
Come on.
He let Koschei guide him to the bed that stood across the room, let himself be
pushed down onto the sheets and let the sensation of Kos' hands on his body run
through him, his mind and body enveloped and kept safe by the other one's
presence. Koschei undressed him, his fingers roamed over Theta's skin, and then
Theta felt Koschei touch him, the sensation made all the more intense by Kos'
thoughts guiding his.
"It's all right," he heard him say, "it's okay, you're safe with me." Theta
could feel Kos' arousal in his mind, a familiar feeling, a reassuring one. He
reached out to touch, ran his fingers over smooth skin, and leaned forward
until Koschei's lips met his again. They kissed, and then Theta could feel a
finger stroke his opening, pressing gently. This was familiar, but it hurt more
than it should, and the cool slick sensation of lubricant was missing. Theta
opened his eyes and sought out Koschei's gaze, and Koschei was right there with
him.
It's okay, he whispered soundlessly, it's fine, you'll be alright. Just trust
me.
So Theta did, closed his eyes again and let Koschei hold him and let him stroke
and probe and press with his tender, skilful fingers. He felt one slipping
inside him, and Theta couldn't suppress a gasp of pain, but Koschei was there,
reassuring, telling him the pain was not important, telling him to trust him,
just trust him and everything would be okay. So he did.
At some point, he felt that the moisture was back on his cheeks, but there was
no time to pay attention to it. Koschei was pressing on, now with two fingers
inside of him, stretching, loosening, and it took all of Theta's concentration
to relax, to believe Kos telling him that there was no pain, that it was okay,
that he was safe. He almost lost the battle when Koschei pushed inside him, the
presence trying to fill him too huge and too much, and he heard a strangled cry
resonate in their joined minds. But Kos was there, as he always was. Then
Koschei was inside of him, moving, and everything else was secondary.
Theta came first, arching off the bed and clutching at Koschei with both his
mind and his body, tears of pain and relief staining his cheeks. He could feel
his climax wash over Koschei and take him away, pushing him over the edge as
well. Their amplified feelings resonated in their minds and bodies, and Theta
was sure he felt something inside him break. Then it was over, and Theta drew
in a sharp breath as Koschei pulled out, the smarting pain sending another
surge through his body. He reached out, and Koschei was there, his arms
wrapping around Theta and his lips on Theta's cheeks, kissing and licking the
tears away.
"You're mine," Theta heard him whisper. "Don't you ever forget that. You're
mine."
"I won't." Theta's voice was just as inaudible, and rough from crying. "I won't
forget."
"Good."
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 deepens another shade.
“Uh-” he muttered, averting his eyes. “I've- I’ve done this myself before,” he
said, trailing off. Shirabu blinked.
“Oh,” was all he said. Goshiki nodded.
“M-more fingers are good-” he murmured, and Shirabu obliged.
It was amazing, how loud his head was - and how loud  he  was. There were so
many spikes in pleasure and warmth, and all because of two fingers. Maybe he
didn't have anything to worry about-
“ Ah  - Shirabu, curl your-  ah-”
“ Like this?”
“No, like -”
Shirabu jumped, jolting his fingers, because he had shifted his fingers once or
twice and then Goshiki was practically  screaming.  Maybe (definitely) an
exaggeration, but the long,  loud  moan he let out was more than a little
noticeable. And his head exploded, like a supernova, and washed over Shirabu
like a rain of pleasure.
“Y-yeah,” Goshiki muttered, and Shirabu laughed, moving his fingers in the same
way a few times before Goshiki’s grip on his arm tightened, almost pulling his
hand out for him.
“What?” Shirabu asked. Wasn’t it feeling good?
“You can- uh,” he began, glancing down at Shirabu’s bottom half. They both
blushed. He had kept his boxers on, but his dick was still  very  noticeable,
and  very  interested in what Goshiki was suggesting.
Shirabu swallowed. “Right,” he said with a murmur, pulling his hand away and
reaching for a condom and prepping himself. Goshiki fidgeted below him.
They were doing this. They were really doing this. They were-
The nerves were back, on both ends, loud and clear.
He ignored them.
But then he was pressing into him and he couldn't ignore them any longer
because  holy shit  was it loud, and  oh my god it’s too much, shit, shit, oh
my god-
“Shirabu? Are you okay?” Goshiki managed to get out, halfway between a
breathless gasp and a moan, despite the fact of his boyfriend being inside him-
Yeah, sure, he'd fingered himself before a few times after a freakishly
enlightening conversation with Yamagata, but that was  it.  This was a whole
new level.
But that wasn't important right now: what was important was the fact he was
only 50% sure that Shirabu was actually breathing.
Tentatively, he placed a hand on Shirabu’s arm. He gasped in response, eyes
squinting shut. He practically screamed with just how fucking  much  it was:
all that came out was a long, low whine.
“Shirabu?” Goshiki tried, again, breathing still a bit ragged as he brought his
hand up to the back of his neck and playing with the soft tufts of hair.
It was… a lot, for him, honestly, but not all bad. It hurt a small bit, but not
unbearably, and however much it did was vastly outnumbered but how  great  it
felt to have Shirabu this close, this intimately. There had been a lot of
waiting involved for this, and it was  happening,  and it felt  really fucking
good  but also  really fucking weird,  and all that added up for one hell of an
experience.
Having said that, he now probably knew the reason his boyfriend was folding
over him at the waist and maybe hyperventilating.
“I know you don’t like me bombarding you with questions when you get
overwhelmed but please say something, or like, breathe-”
“I’m  fine , Goshiki-” he gasped, tightening his fingers in the sheet next to
Goshiki’s head. All the younger boy did in return was pull his hand free gently
so that he could lace their palms together.
This  is what Shirabu had been nervous about. He had never gone this far with
other people, but that wasn’t something that had ever scared him. Sex was sex,
and it didn’t seem like he had any reason to be  anxious  about it.
No, he had always been nervous about the sheer level of emotions that’d be
going through either of their heads, and how bad it would be to have to listen
to all of them at once.
Part of why he wanted to make sure Goshiki was 100% ready (aside from being a
decent human being) was to minimise any strong nerves, or anxious energy.
He stupidly didn’t factor in that waiting would make him that much more eager,
and was sure he’d be chiding himself for it if he had any capacity to think
clearly.
But here he was, inside his stupid boyfriend while his bowl cut covered head
raced with excitement and nerves  and the tiniest flash of pain overwhelmed by
a whole lot of fucking pleasure, while  his own  head was being overwhelmed far
too quickly by how good everything felt, on top of the incessant mental
confusion from listening to Goshiki, and, dear god, here he was having a
fucking  panic attack  in the midst of it .
He forced his eyes open to look down at Goshiki, smiling as best he could to
try and placate at least some of the worry etched into the poor boy’s face.
“We can stop if you need-”
“ No, ” he grit out,  because for all my fucking fussing I want this just as
bad, thank you very much-
One look at Goshiki’s surprised and rapidly redenning face made him stop and
think.
“Did I say that outloud?” He asked, and Goshiki nodded with a soft laugh.
Shirabu dropped his head down; his forehead knocked against the other’s gently.
He let out a slow breath, trying to recollect his thoughts, and ultimately
failing.  Still too much, too much, too-
He looked up when he felt Goshiki squeeze his hand where they were still laced
together. He opened his eyes, not realising he had actually shut them, and
simply stared at him for a long moment. Eventually, after a  very  long time,
he nodded a small affirmative down at him. When he received a soft nod in
response, he moved, shifting further into Goshiki.
He absolutely did  not  miss the whipcrack flash of pain as it crossed across
Goshiki’s mind.
“Fuck, fuck-” he cursed, bending forward with a jolt and moving himself in the
process, and practically whining as he  felt -  not heard, because Goshiki
simply winced, he could feel him trying to be quiet- the pained cry he got for
it.
I’m hurting him, this is too far, he’s not okay, this is not okay I’m  hurting
him, he’s hurt, he’s hurt-
“Shirabu, stop thinking,” Goshiki groaned, pulling him down and kissing him,
cutting off his train of thought before it spiralled any worse than it already
did.
“Goshiki-” he choked out, amidst the spiralling memory of the fact he was in
pain. He couldn’t believe that  Goshiki  was going to be the one who ended up
calming  him  down.
“Listen,” he started, making Shirabu focus on him. He squeezed his palm gently
again: reassurance. “You got stuck trying to change yourself to stop me hurting
once before, and that didn’t go well for you.”
Shirabu huffed out a haggard laugh. He thought back, reflecting on the story of
how they got together and what happened when he had first tried to actually
help  the stupid kid. It’s not like he was disappointed with the outcome, when
it ended up like this, but it was a fair bit of agony while it was happening.
He looked down when he felt Goshiki’s hand squeeze his again, and nodded softly
to try and ease the concern etched in his boyfriend’s face. Absentmindedly, he
let out a soft laugh at the bubble of warm affection crossing Goshiki’s mind.
“So, just, focus on something else? Like me!” he suggested, face brightening up
in a smile. Shirabu felt himself laughing, thoroughly endeared with his
simplistic and overly pure solution to something that was anything but, and
finally letting himself ease into his own thoughts for a moment.
It was a start, he figured, to simply focus on how Goshiki felt. No reading
into anything, only  hearing each emotion at face value. But at the end of the
day, it was still the same emotions, and even when he focused - if what he was
capable of at the moment could count as  focus -  it was still overwhelmingly
flashes of pain.
“You just feel like you’re hurt, though,” he mumbled.
“Shirabu, you can read minds,” he offered. Shirabu rose an eyebrow at him,
blinking when he got an eyeroll in return. “That’s not what I think at all. You
can check if you don’t believe me.”
“As if I could concentrate enough to get anything concrete out of you, idiot,”
he muttered. Goshiki hummed, and shrugged.
“Well then, you just have to trust me.” he responded, matter of factly. “I’ll
tell you if I want you to stop. I promise.”
So sweet, so innocent, so pure. Shirabu found himself smiling at that, and
finally,  finally  nodding.
With another deep breath, he pulled back, before pressing slowly in. His  own
nerves lit up, and he whined in time with one Goshiki let out.
Trust him, trust him, trust him,  he chanted, over and over again. He was
tuning out Goshiki’s thoughts in favour of just moving, listening to his ragged
breathing and letting himself feel his twitching body, gasping as he tightened
suddenly. Because  fuck  that felt  good .
He was drawn out of his focus by another moan, unmistakable and loud this time,
and Shirabu gasped in response. Sure, he wasn't trying to listen to his
thoughts, but the supernova explosion of pleasure was back again, and
impossible to ignore.
In the space of time Shirabu had spent focusing on moving, Goshiki had brought
his legs up around him to hook his ankles behind his back, like he was spurring
him on, trying to get him to hit the same spot again and again. He was
thrusting deeper, now, and it must have been working - it was sure doing
something -  because the boy’s head lit up like a string of fairy lights.
“Jesus,” Shirabu gasped. It felt brilliant as it was, but feeling Goshiki’s
pleasure in compound made it that much stronger. With a striking realisation,
he noted Goshiki felt  brilliant.  And the more he moved, and noticed that yes,
the pain in the other’s head was almost completely gone.
‘That’s me doing that,’  he thought, gasping loudly as Goshiki squeezed his
thighs around him again.  ‘That’s me making him feel like that.’
He smiled, leaning forward to kiss him, hot and open mouthed. Goshiki moaned
again into his mouth, letting Shirabu’s tongue press against his and humming
contentedly as he nipped the chapped skin of his lips.
Goshiki broke away with another loud moan as Shirabu started building up his
pace, throwing his head back on the pillow and moaning twice more,
consecutively with building volume. Shirabu took the opportunity to start a
line of kisses along his jaw, neck, clavicle, relishing in the way Goshiki
yelled with both his voice and his brain.
At that, Shirabu laughed, slowing down slightly and kissing Goshiki’s lips once
more, ignoring the pout on his face. He only smiled further when Goshiki
smacked his shoulder with an embarrassed whine.  
“Why,  ah-  did you stop?” He asked; as Shirabu gave him a kiss on the cheek,
he ran his palms down his bare chest and thumbing over his hipbone, not missing
the way he shivered. In retaliation, Shirabu thrust again softly. Goshiki
groaned.
“You just feel good for me, and you’re feeling good yourself, and that makes me
feel even better,” he muttered, noting very quickly he did not sound as
eloquent as he'd have hoped. His voice was gravelled, and he wasn't convinced
that he had said anything of meaning.
Goshiki, however, did not seem to mind, if the bright red flush making its way
across his entire body was anything to go by.
With a soft whine, he covered his face with his hands, pressing his palms
against his eyes. Shirabu stared down at him, wide eyed, before laughing
incredulously. Goshiki kicked his back with his heel.  
It was both a blessing and a curse of having a telepathic boyfriend, that he
could tell when he hit the head of the nail when it came to kinks.
“Goshiki?” He hummed; his boyfriend simply groaned in response.
“Shira-  ah,”  he cut himself off with a soft moan when Shirabu shifted forward
again, directly hitting that spot inside him that made his toes curl. Goshiki
felt his legs twitch, hips shifting with a sudden jolt as they did and driving
Shirabu against his prostate once again.
“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re hot when you’re moaning,” he stated, and
Goshiki’s face scrunched up, blush deepening. His body had started to shake,
and he cried out as Shirabu thrust into him again, and again, until it was
muffled by another heady kiss against his lips.
“Shirabu, you-”
“What? I’m being- ah, fuck - mean? But you’re so ah-so good at this, Tsutomu-”
Shirabu felt his hips stutter violently as Goshiki’s mind suddenly started
racing again, full of affection and warmth and  urgency , letting out a loud
moan as it all started crashing over him like waves. Shirabu’s eyes widened
suddenly, incredulously, and he managed to gasp out Goshiki’s name once before
the boy beneath him was coming  hard.
He practically  screamed , and Shirabu wouldn’t deny that he did anything less.
Not only could he feel Goshiki twitching and tightening around him, he could
feel the fiery heat explode outwards from the centre of his brain. Sure, he’d
have been coming hard enough as it was if he  wasn’t  telepathic, but as it
was, he had twice the sensation bombarding his brain.
When he opened his eyes - god knows how long later - Goshiki was still panting
heavily. Shirabu managed to keep himself up on his arms long enough to pull out
of him, giving him a kiss to the lips while he fell ungracefully to the side.
Honestly though, after sex like that, he didn’t particularly care whether or
not he squished Goshiki, and he had a feeling he didn’t either.
“So that wasn’t bad, right?” Goshiki asked, a while later, after they had just
lay breathing heavily in silence. Shirabu snorted.
“You have no idea,” he laughed, turning to Goshiki with a smile and letting him
kiss him.
Goshiki hummed, turning onto his side and curling up next to Shirabu.
“You were so  good ,” Shirabu whispered, voice low and hopefully sultry,
turning to look at Goshiki. His eyes shot open, and he whined, smacking him on
the shoulder as he laughed at him.
“Shirabu!” he whined, pouting again and blushing. Shirabu simply kissed him.
“You can call me Kenjirou, you know,” he murmured, voice quiet and soft. Maybe
orgasms just made him nicer. Maybe he felt bad for teasing him. Maybe it was
just Goshiki.
“Oh. Okay,” he mumbled, blinking at Shirabu. “And- same to you. Not calling me
Kenjirou , of course- damn it, uh-”
He broke off as Shirabu carried on laughing, pressing another kiss to his lips.
When he pulled back, Goshiki gave him a small smile.
“Thanks, Tsutomu,” he murmured.
“For what?” he asked, puzzled. Shirabu shrugged.
“You were really patient with me,” he said. “And it was really good. So- yeah.
I'm glad I trusted you.”
Goshiki smiled, eyes crinkling up at the side.
“You're welcome, Kenjirou. I'm glad you trusted me too.”
With another kiss, and a warm, affectionate smile Shirabu let his eyes flutter
shut.
Goshiki’s mind was quiet - he was falling asleep too. But even still, there was
an unmistakable bubble of affection roaming around his head as he hugged
Shirabu closer to himself and finally drifted off.
End Notes
     yell with me about shiragoshi @ americanbeautiies.tumblr.com
     ((sometimes i wonder if i should stop drowning the shiragoshi tag in
     fics, but then i remember: shiragoshi.))
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