Work Text:
Kyojuro turned in place, surveying the area around him. Bits of an inferior demon splattered the walls and floor. A small piece of the demon’s face, fizzling away like all the rest of him in the last patch of evening sunlight streaming in through a crack, slid from the edge of a shelf and fell with a quiet splat to the concrete. The slayer’s hand withdrew from his sword, abandoning his fighting stance. He sighed, and said loudly, “I would prefer it,” he turned, easily finding the spot in which Akaza was perched, “if you would allow me to perform my own job.”
From his ledge, just a few feet off the ground, Akaza replied, “He was a waste of your time.”
Kyojuro frowned, stepping toward Akaza. “We’ve been over this.”
“He didn’t deserve to fight you.”
“Akaza ...” His seriousness was conveyed with the single word. Kyojuro reached him and, still surveying the large barn where the recently dispatched demon had been hiding until his end, Kyojuro cupped Akaza’s chin. He looked down at him, and spoke more softly, “Do you feel that I’m inadequate to fulfill my duties?”
It was incomprehensible that Kyojuro could be described as ‘inadequate’ by literally anyone, ever. Kyojuro had very nearly killed Akaza himself, had survived Akaza’s own best attempt at killing him, and here he was, still a Hashira, as strong as ever. Akaza leaned into the touch, wanting the warmth of Kyojuro’s entire palm on his face. The hand withdrew. Akaza barely stifled a disappointed whimper at the lost contact. “Of course not,” he replied.
“Good.” Kyojuro leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Neither do I. So please, allow me to fulfill my duties myself.”
Akaza would make no promises. He nodded in understanding however, and the hand returned to stroke his cheek. Akaza turned in place, gently grasping Kyojuro’s index finger in his mouth, hooked behind his fags, ensuring, respectfully, that the hand remained in contact with him as he sat upright. It earned a smirk from his Hashira, who didn’t object or pull away. Akaza slurred around the finger, “I will not aholohzhizhe for enamling you to shhbend more nime om me.”
“You’re a brat,” Kyojuro stated affectionately. Accurately.
Akaza released the finger when Kyojuro pulled it gently. “Perhaps.”
“Mm,” Kyojuro responded. “I mean it though. No more of this.”
“Understood.” It wasn’t an agreement to comply. Kyojuro’s sigh indicated that he probably knew this, and chose to let it go. Akaza smiled. “Sooo, come with me? To the springs?”
“No. Not yet. … Probably not tonight at all, actually,” Kyojuro added, ignoring Akaza’s frustrated huff. “I have a meeting to attend to.”
“Wasn’t this your meeting?” Akaza gestured to the vacant barn.
“I have many meetings!” Kyojuro ruffled Akaza’s hair playfully. “And you have no shortage of time.” He leaned down and kissed Akaza again.
Far sooner than was fair, Kyojuro pulled away. “Meet me there tomorrow night,” he instructed. He pecked a kiss to the end of Akaza’s nose, and turned to go. “I’m not going anywhere,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away, “This town needs much help.”
“I need much help,” Akaza mumbled to himself, after the barn doors were closed between them.
*****
The following evening, Akaza rose early and chased the sun from its hold on the earth. He occupied the stretching shadows as they became the night, and perched in some distant tree branches overlooking the warm springs. Several people bathed and lingered there, none of which were Kyojuro. Impatiently, Akaza waited. Time passed, and, fearing the things that hunt at night, the townspeople steadily departed. Akaza paid them no mind.
Finally, the distinct laughter of his favorite human reached his ears. Akaza hurdled branches, moving closer eagerly.
As he drew closer, he could hear an unfamiliar voice speaking alongside Kyojuro; Quieter, but no less enthusiastic.
Carefully, Akaza slowed his approach, until the human pair were in sight, at the end of the footpath where the trail to the springs diverged from the road toward town. The man accompanying Kyojuro was taller, and broader. He wore some manner of gaudy headpiece, carried two obnoxiously large blades on his back and reeked of vain pompousness.
More importantly, he stood entirely too close to Kyojuro.
Akaza bristled.
The humans laughed, carrying on their conversation. The stranger pushed Kyojuro’s shoulder playfully, and Akaza bared his fangs into the darkness, creeping silently closer. This man, the intruder, glanced in Akaza’s direction.
As though he could hear something.
As though it would matter even if he did.
As though he’d stand a chance against Akaza’s fury.
Kyojuro’s laughter faded. “Well,” he spoke loudly as usual, “I will see you before you leave tomorrow, I imagine?”
“Yeah, probably so.” The stranger hesitated, eyes again wandering the dark woods and path in general. “You sure you don’t want me to join you at the springs?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Kyojuro replied with a friendly dismissal. Entirely too friendly. “Have a good night, Uzui. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Uzui nodded, satisfied. “Goodnight then, Kyo. Stay safe.”
Kyo. A pet name. Rage seeped through Akaza’s core.
“You as well.” Kyojuro turned down the path toward the springs. “Night!”
Akaza stayed in place as Kyojuro passed beneath him. He remained there, watching to ensure this Uzui man actually left, fighting the urge to follow and destroy this person who’d dared to touch his Kyojuro.
Resisting that impulse — he could always find and eat him later — Akaza spent a moment boiling in his envy. It festered, dark and rotten, in his gut, and he carried it with him when he finally joined Kyojuro at the springs. Pausing at the edge of the rocks, he asked, “Who was that?”
The smile that greeted his arrival was as bright and warm as always. Unbothered. Kyojuro was already stripped down to his bare nakedness, clothing and sword set neatly on a rock. As he waded into the water, Kyojuro answered, “A friend and fellow Hashira, Uzui Tengen.”
“I don’t like him.”
A bright laugh was Kyojuro’s reply. “Do you like anyone?”
“I like you.”
“Mmm,” the Hashira tipped his head, considering, as he sank to where his shoulders were just above the water. “Do you like anyone other than me?”
No. He grasped for anyone else to name, knowing the answer undeniably, and the silence which proved Kyojuro’s point was all the more angering. Akaza scowled.
“Come here,” Kyojuro invited, waving a hand above the water. “Come bathe with me.” Akaza didn’t move. Kyojuro sighed after a moment, his features becoming more serious and yet softer, calmer. “Come on,” he repeated, gliding further into the water.
The waters were calm and shallow, no more than chest-deep. Reluctantly, rigidly, Akaza acquiesced. He decidedly did not undress, and walked into the water, clothing and all, remaining a short distance away. He sank quickly down, until the water reached the bridge of his nose, and peered at Kyojuro through narrowed eyes. Kyojuro gave him a puzzled and humored look before laughing at him. Akaza’s scowl depended.
Still chuckling, the Hashira slid closer to Akaza, to where the rocks formed a place to sit, and he settled there, chest at water level. He extended an arm in invitation, fingers just close enough to brush Akaza’s arm, and despite himself, Akaza could not resist a small movement toward the contact, letting Kyojuro pull him closer. He remained low in the water, glaring up at the human.
Fingers gently cupped just below his ear and Kyojuro kissed his forehead when he was directly in front of the slayer. It did little to quell the smoldering anger in Akaza’s mind. Akaza rose just enough to speak, and growled, “I’ll kill him, if I smell him on you.”
Kyojuro smirked, something infuriatingly dismissive in its confidence. “No, you won’t,” he replied.
“Like hell I won’t.” Akaza wanted to kill this other man now, for an infraction he might not have even committed yet. “I will tear him limb from limb.”
“You won’t,” Kyojuro repeated, with an authority so calm, it was almost offensive. The Hashira sighed. Arms wrapped the demon, and in a show of greater strength than Kyojuro probably even realized, he hoisted Akaza up and onto his lap. Akaza straddled the man but maintained distance between them, refusing for his argument to be quelled by contact alone.
Kyojuro continued calmly, “If you killed another Hashira, I’d have to kill you.” The expression on his face didn’t reach his eyes. He wasn’t dismissing Akaza’s threat as empty, nor was he joking about his own response. “And you’d let me.” His fingers stroked Akaza’s chest with an absentminded affection.
Akaza blinked, the venom falling from his own demeanor like a hide stripped from its carcass with a single yank, and turned his head away.
Kyojuro was right. He couldn’t deny it even in his own mind. If Kyojuro told him to kneel in the grass and wait for the sunlight, he’d do it. He’d submit every ounce of his strength, lay himself bare and hold Kyojuro’s sword to his own throat, if Kyojuro asked it of him.
“Hey,” Kyojuro’s voice cut through his thoughts with a smooth effortlessness that was as sharp as the blade he wielded. “I don’t want that. I'd never want that. The thought alone is unfathomable.” Akaza could feel Kyojuro’s eyes on him. He avoided the gaze. “Having to hurt you would bore a hole through me, deeper than any I’ve been dealt before.” Akaza stared in silence at the moon glimmering off the rippled water, and Kyojuro’s fingertips brushed his chin, requesting his focus. Akaza complied, meeting his eyes. They were filled with the patient, warm strength that had become Akaza’s salvation. “But I won’t hear of threats to my friends’ lives. I can not tolerate that. Do you understand?”
Akaza nodded.
“Good.” Kyojuro’s thumb ran softly across his lips. “Good boy.” He moved closer, bringing their foreheads together, and a few moments passed in silent breaths shared between them. Strong arms settled around Akaza’s lower waist, holding him a little tighter than usual. How ironic that the thought of hurting a demon could upset a Hashira.
The water was warm and calming, but its power paled in comparison to having Kyojuro so close. By proximity alone, the slayer's presence dulled the edges of Akaza’s anger.
Akaza closed his eyes, and Kyojuro whispered to him, “The evening is beautiful, the water is perfect, and I’ve been very much looking forward to spending this time with you.” His hands slid up to cup either side of Akaza’s neck, thumbs running the demon's jawline. “Uzui is a friend, nothing more. He’s no threat to you, or to us, so long as you’re no threat to him.”
“I understand,” Akaza replied.
Lips pressed against Akaza’s temple. He knew it for what it was: A silent permission to move past the subject. Akaza shifted, demanding the kiss to move to his lips instead. It was sweet at first, chaste. Insufficient. Akaza leaned into it, deepening it, eager for more.
Slipping his tongue into Kyojuro’s mouth always produced the tiniest hitch in the slayer’s breath. That sound… Akaza needed more of that. His arms draped Kyojuro’s shoulders, and he pulled their chests flush with one another. He wasted no time in rolling his hips, situating himself more fully into Kyojuro’s lap, just as he bit the edge of the slayer's bottom lip.
A twitch of interest stirred beneath where Akaza was straddled, and another quiet sound stirred from Kyojuro’s throat.
Akaza ground down into Kyojuro’s lap, shameless in his intent. Forward and back again, his hips rolled decisive strokes, enticing the growing enthusiasm of the slayer's cock. Kyojuro’s groan of approval was music to his ears.
Fingertips roamed Akaza’s sides, pushing away the floating fabric of his haori, caressing the musculature of his core. Kyojuro did this every time; Catalogued Akaza’s body with his hands, seeking out scars or new information, as though it was capable of such changes. Akaza knew better than to object. Instead, his own hands found the slayer’s chest, and groped the swells of muscle that were somehow exquisitely defined but soft and pliant.
Temperature wasn’t a thing Akaza tended to ever notice until he was skin-to-skin with Kyojuro. Every single time, he was overcome with just how incredibly warm the man was.
Kyojuro had called the water pleasant, but there was an unwelcome chill every time Akaza moved just a bit too far away as he stroked the rigidity in Kyojuro’s lap with the rolling of his own. The chill clung to his clothes for just a moment, and that was a moment too long. Akaza grumbled an annoyed sound against Kyojuro’s lips, and immediately, Kyojuro’s eyes were open, assessing what might be wrong.
“Too much fabric,” Akaza said as he begrudgingly pulled away from their embrace and climbed out of Kyojuro’s lap.
“Ah.” Kyojuro smirked, saying nothing about it having been Akaza’s choice to enter the water fully clothed. Akaza scrambled to yank at the soaked attire. It all stuck to him stubbornly, and just shy of him shredding his pants in frustration, Kyojuro chuckled and reached out, taking the waistline of the garment in his own hands. “There is no reason to rush,” he said, bringing their lips together again. “We’ve got all night.”
Kyojuro probably got the clothing off him unharmed, and probably gathered the garments into something sensible and set them on a rock. Or maybe he chucked it all to sink to the bottom of the springs. Akaza wouldn’t have noticed either way, or cared. He’d be naked all the time if Muzan would let him. As soon as he was free of the abrasive barrier, he was skin-to-skin in the heat of Kyojuro’s lap, without so much as an air bubble trapped between them.
Kyojuro asked, “Better?”
“Better,” Akaza said, barely, before sealing his lips against Kyojuro’s again.
A throaty chuckle rattled in Kyojuro’s chest. Akaza wasted no time positioning them just right, so the other man’s formidable cock settled between his ass cheeks.
He wanted all of Kyojuro, here and now. The wait had been too long and the conflict too great. He needed every bit of that man’s cock buried to the hilt inside of him and he slid upwards, angling his hips so that the tip of Kyojuro’s dick pressured bluntly at the pucker of his asshole. “Patience,” Kyojuro chastised softly, just before Akaza could impale himself on the slayer's cock. Kyojuro’s strong hands grasped Akaza’s hips with a firm authority while his mouth maintained its languid exchange against his lips. “Be patient for me, Akaza, and relax.” Huffing a slight rumble of frustration, Akaza allowed the slayer to halt him.
Kyojuro’s fingers took the place of his dick, featherlight and gentle. The tip of an index finger found and pressured Akaza’s entrance, teasing around the rim. With the tenderness of someone introducing these sensations to a virgin, the smallest bit of Kyojuro’s finger breached him, massaging gentle little thrusts against the tight ring of muscle.
Prep was unnecessary. Akaza neither cared about the brief, sharp pain of unprepared penetration nor any physical injury that might come of it. These were the habits of Kyojuro’s hands however, and the more and longer Kyojuro’s hands were on Akaza’s body, the better.
When Kyojuro fucked, it wasn’t an act of carnal desire, it was an act of sensual worship. And in Akaza’s life? Worship happened exclusively at the hands of Kyojuro Rengoku. In spite of his frustrations, anything that kept Akaza’s body between Kyojuro’s arms was time he’d cherish. So, as he’d done many times before, Akaza leaned harder into the human’s chest, arched his back to encourage Kyojuro’s efforts, and said nothing as methodical hands touched him in any way they wished. A wet finger pushed into him, rewarding his patience.
Fingertips traced the dark stripe that ran along the underside of Akaza’s cock, more a tease than a relief. He’d been hard as a rock from the moment he’d climbed into Kyojuro’s lap, his body begging to be touched, and the feather-light strokes only deepened his ache.
One painstakingly languid finger moving in his ass and a soft, grazing grip along his cock. Those were all Kyojuro gave him for several moments, and they were torturous in their insufficiency.
Against the side of Kyojuro’s face, Akaza’s lips quivered into a silent, frustrated snarl. Kyojuro couldn’t possibly have seen the action and yet, immediately, the slayer made a quiet, “Eh eh,” sound of disapproval. A correction, for Akaza’s hastiness. “None of that. You know better than that.” The finger receded, and the demon made an absolutely pathetic whimper. “Shh,” Kyojuro cooed, “patience”.
It was a battle against his very nature to be ‘patient’. Akaza began to tremble with need and restraint. He pushed his face into the juncture of Kyojuro’s neck and shoulder, and forced his body to be still. The slayer stroked Akaza’s dick again, still far too loosely to offer any pleasure, and Akaza willed himself not to buck harder into the hand as it barely encircled his head.
“Good,” Kyojuro whispered, dragging a firmer stroke down the entire length Akaza’s erection. “Much better.”
Blessedly, the finger returned to his ass, and a second entered alongside the first. They paused there, teasing. Testing. The thumb of Kyojuro’s other hand brushed against the slit of the head of his cock, massaging the soft skin. Akaza pressed a trembling kiss to the side of Kyojuro’s neck. He stayed there, as still as he could muster, demanding nothing. He could be good. For Kyojuro, he could be patient.
“That’s it,” Kyojuro said after a moment of silence. “I knew you could behave for me.” He pushed his fingers further, reaching as deep as they’d go, at the same time he gripped Akaza’s cock with perfectly dispersed pressure.
Saliva pooled alongside Akaza’s tongue, and he pressed his face harder into Kyojuro’s neck. He was desperate to be filled, and while he’d never dream of hurting Kyojuro, his body reacted to the swirling of need within his gut with a primal desire that aligned with the hunger it knew best. When his mouth fell open, panting for air while Kyojuro fucked him with his fingers, the tip of Akaza’s tongue brushed the skin of the slayer’s neck. Akaza brought the taste of it into his mouth, savoring it. He took a deeper lap, running his tongue in a broad stripe across the base of Kyojuro’s neck. Cool freshwater mixed with the salty prickle of Kyojuro’s sweat and Akaza’s own drool, and he took it in greedily, laving his tongue repeatedly along Kyojuro’s bare skin.
Kyojuro hummed in approval, tilting his head to offer easier access to his throat. The sound, and the sheer honor of being granted such trusting permission… Akaza’s jaw hung open, panting, tongue momentarily frozen over Kyojuro’s pulse point.
The slayer’s life force thrummed boldly through his veins, rhythmic against Akaza’s tongue. Saliva dripped from a sharp fang. He wondered, sometimes, if the human knew just how vulnerable he let himself be in these moments. Eyes fluttering momentarily, Akaza resumed his tongue’s path along Kyojuro’s exposed throat. He punctuated the line with a kiss.
For several minutes, Kyojuro stroked and fingered him, adding a third digit to facilitate whatever stretch he was aiming for. Meanwhile, Akaza peppered the slayer’s neck and shoulder, everything he could reach, with soft licks and heavy kisses. He was being good, Kyojuro had said so. He knew better than to object to the slow pace.
When Akaza’s fingers gripped harder every now and then into Kyojuro’s shoulder and back, it wasn’t an objection. When a fang occasionally drew the faintest red line across Kyojuro’s skin, that also was not an objection. When there was the slightest hint of a huff in each breathy pant he took, definitely, none of those were objections.
Kyojuro chuckled beneath him, the choppy rumble like a tiny earthquake against Akaza’s tongue. “Ok,” Kyojuro laughed, “Ok … You’ve made your point.”
“Hmm?” Akaza questioned around a kiss. He was innocent. Clueless as to what Kyojuro meant.
“Come here.” Kyojuro shifted, bringing Akaza directly in front of him. He leaned back against the rock, looking up at the demon with a sort of fondness and hunger that Akaza was certain could sustain him for the rest of eternity. “Kiss me,” Kyojuro said, to which Akaza eagerly assumed a position that not only brought their lips together, but Akaza’s rear down, hovering just above Kyojuro’s cock. Kyojuro toyed the tip of it across Akaza’s ass. “Is this what you want?”
“Please,” Akaza whined.
The human rolled his hips. The head of his cock pressed against Akaza’s entrance, and parted him, penetrating the demon in smooth little thrusts. Using his fist as a stopping point, Kyojuro allowed only the smallest amount of his formidable length to breach beyond Akaza’s rim. He paused there, delaying the satisfaction of being filled up. Akaza whimpered a wordless plea for more.
“Have you been good?” Kyojuro’s words landed like water withheld from a dying man.
“I have,” Akaza whispered against his lips.
“Have you?”
“I…” Akaza whimpered again. “I promise not to interfere with your work, or to threaten the lives of your friends.”
Kyojuro hummed, considering it. “All members of the Demon Slayer Corpse are my friends, to be clear…”
Completely serious, Akaza replied, “I do not doubt that in the least.”
The jovial timbre in Kyojuro’s genuine laugh could melt ice. “Good,” Kyojuro said, his smile making it difficult for them to kiss. He landed a chaste one, and then a proper kiss, settling back into the task at hand. “Good boy.” Smooth as silk, Kyojuro’s hand slid from his own cock to grasp Akaza’s, in the same moment he thrust his hips upward, burying his cock deep into the demon. Akaza was simultaneously filled up by and wrapped tightly in Kyojuro’s heat, and the keening sound he made would've been enough to make even Kokushibo blush.
Jaw hanging open, Akaza went rigid with the sudden and all-encompassing stimulation. He shuddered, unable to suppress another moan, when Kyojuro removed all but the head of his cock before sliding into him again with a steady roll of his hips. He repeated the motion, withdrawing most of his length and then sheathing it again. He set a pace, slow but deep, in and out of the demon’s body.
Akaza sat fully upright, greedy for Kyojuro’s cock to reach the deepest parts of him. The human was blessed in both girth or length, and the stretch of taking every bit of him burned deliciously. Akaza shivered at the contrast of the cold water surrounding the rest of him.
Like dim embers in the dark, warm eyes looked up at Akaza from beneath hooded eyelids. Kyojuro’s humor was gone, replaced by steady focus and his own pleasure.
Akaza slid himself to the tip and dropped down, impaling himself on the other man’s cock. Kyojuro gasped, and pulled his lower lip between his teeth. He didn’t stop Akaza or demand more patience when the demon repeated the move, fucking himself on Kyojuro’s dick. Akaza made a pace of it, bobbing himself up and down in the water as Kyojuro thrust upward into him. Warm hands caressed all of him, and their motions fell into perfect sync. Losing himself quickly, Akaza’s head rolled back, panting his tireless exertion into the night sky.
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” Kyojuro said unexpectedly. “Have I ever told you that?” Akaza looked down to find a disarming combination of soft affection and fiery desire studying him. “You’re beautiful, and such a good boy for me.” Akaza shifted his gaze to the side, jaw tense. Kyojuro’s pace slowed, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
Quickening his own movements, Akaza replied, “You shouldn’t say such things.”
“Why?”
He was trying so hard to behave, and it didn’t help that his mind was quickly growing fuzzy with pleasure. He leaned down, continuing to fuck himself on Kyojuro while he kissed the human’s chest. “Because I promised not to hurt your friends. But if I ever heard you say something like that to one of them, I’d be unable to stop myself.” He panted harder, the water around them splashing as he rocked their bodies. “I’d tear them to pieces, decorate the streets with their blood. I’d—” The expression on Kyojuro’s face stopped his words as well as his body.
Drool ran from the edges of Akaza’s mouth. He hadn’t meant to say all of that. The lines that separate categories of ‘hunger’ in his mind had blurred again. Kyojuro must be so angry. Akaza closed his eyes and turned his head.
A moment passed, and then a palm caressed the side of his face. Kyojuro’s thumb ran along the edge of his lips, dipping between them to slide along the sharp edges of his teeth. An index finger hooked behind his canines and gave a tug. “Come here,” Kyojuro bid. Akaza trembled, whimpering at the implication when Kyojuro’s cock withdrew from him. He allowed himself to be led though, to where their noses brushed. “It never even crossed my mind that you’d think I’d say those things to anyone else.” Kyojuro’s thumb pressed hard against Akaza’s upper fang, hard enough that the bright taste of blood swirled with the drool in his mouth. Akaza moaned, and Kyojuro continued, “What a monster I’d be to demand exclusive favoritism from you and offer none in return.” More dragging pressure pushed against his fang, more blood coated his tongue. Akaza’s eyes fluttered.
Kyojuro tugged at him again. The human slid off the rock where he’d been seated and navigated them the short distance to the grassy bank, where he pushed Akaza to lie on his back, never losing contact as he settled between the demon’s legs. He bracketed himself above Akaza, and stated, “I’m yours… yours alone. And you are mine. Do you understand?”
The position as much as the words… Akaza stared up at him, jaw flexing and loosening around the fingers still hooked in his mouth. Possessiveness gripped Akaza like a starved dog, and he slowly bit down harder — just shy of breaking bone — while swallowing the mess of blood and saliva in his mouth. Unflinching, Kyojuro met his eyes with resolve. There was something deeper there … Like Kyojuro was challenging the very writing in Akaza’s eyes for ownership of the demon they laid claim to. “Do you understand?”
The fingers withdrew just enough for him to speak clearly, and Akaza answered, “I’m the only one allowed to touch you like this.”
“Correct.”
“Good,” Akaza replied.
Many things probably needed to be said in that moment, but every ounce of Akaza’s processing capability had gone straight to his dick. He swallowed hard again, and Kyojuro took mercy on his priorities. Another finger sliced itself forcefully against Akaza’s fang before they retreated fully from his mouth. “Spit,” Kyojuro instructed, hand cupped in front of the demon's lips. Akaza promptly filled the palm with a deep red swirl of viscous fluid.
Kyojuro shifted up onto his knees, eyes still locked with Akaza’s, and smeared the liquid in his hand along the length of his own shaft.
He spread Akaza’s legs wider, and sank his cock into him again. He spit another pool of saliva into his hand, and used it to wrap Akaza’s dick in warm, slippery pressure.
Contrary to the seriousness in Kyojuro’s face, he did not rush his rhythm. He set a steady pace in and out, reaching deep into Akaza with each thrust. After several minutes, he leaned down, capturing Akaza’s lips. Teeth clicked and tongues explored as they kissed one another with fervor.
Long forgotten from Akaza’s mind had been the taste of food, drink, life and humanity — until the first time he’d kissed Kyojuro, many months ago. Now, every kiss he shared with the slayer was a droplet of those memories, distant and vague, like the scent of perfume that lingers on a garment, conjuring the familiarity of a person whose face he couldn’t quite recall; The reminder of a long-ago history, gifted to him with the slide of their impassioned tongues.
The flavors of life lingered even after Kyojuro pulled back, panting for air. Akaza smirked. “You know, you’d have better stamina if you becam—”
“Shut up, Akaza.”
The demon grinned, wrapping his legs tightly around Kyojuro’s hips. There was absolutely nothing lacking in Kyojuro’s stamina. The teasing mention worked every time though, like tossing an ember into dry grass. The human’s thrusts grew harder, faster. Kyojuro pulled Akaza’s knees higher, and Akaza was powerless to stifle his lewd moan when the new angle punched Kyojuro’s cock right against that sweet spot deep inside of him, over and over again. “Yes,” he gasped, “please, Kyojuro…”
The human gave him exactly what he asked for. He drove his cock deep and hard, again and again, filling Akaza to the brim with each thrust as each motion equally sent Akaza’s cock forward into Kyojuro’s hand, coiling that delicious pressure building within him tighter and tighter.
His fingers dug into Kyojuro’s sides and back, hard enough to bruise. He bit human skin where he could reach it, marking red welts into Kyojuro’s wrist and chest, until he’d driven the Flame Pillar himself into a hissing, moaning, overstimulated mess of a man.
Akaza wondered how many people had ever even had the privilege of seeing Kyojuro like this… so lost to his own pleasure that his words and expression failed him, hair a disheveled tangle of sweat and water, skin dripping with the same. Eyes closed, Kyojuro’s brows gathered and twitched with something that was equal parts concentration and the precise opposite of that, while Kyojuro’s mind and body raced to the edge of climax. He was close, Akaza could tell.
His thrusts got harder, each one delivering a solid, wet slap against Akaza’s ass cheeks. Finally, with a heavy thrust, Kyojuro’s choppy, ragged breath ended in a longer, quiet moan. Warmth gushed deep into Akaza, coating his walls with Kyojuro’s release.
The sensation of it, the throbbing of Kyojuro’s cock inside of him, the expression on his face … it was all more than Akaza could contain. Kyojuro’s hand, the one stroking Akaza’s shaft, had paused only briefly. Before the human even opened his eyes, still lost in his own climax, he weakly spit into his hand again, and resumed the long, steady strokes.
Akaza’s muscles strained. The threads containing his pleasure wound themselves tighter and tighter within him. Suddenly, Kyojuro’s lips were brushing Akaza’s neck, tongue teasing the lobe of his ear. “Come for me, Akaza,” he whispered. “Let me see that beautiful face you make.”
It was all Akaza needed to push him over the edge. Kyojuro’s hand at the back of his neck steadied him as that pressure erupted and every nerve in his body tingled with release. Thick threads of cum seeped from between Kyojuro’s fingers, snaking over his knuckles and slickening the glide of the slayer's hand as it milked him through his orgasm.
They came down from their mutual high slowly. A kiss pressed gently against Akaza’s temple.
Kyojuro’s forehead met his. Long strands of damp hair brushed Akaza’s face. He reached up, collecting it for Kyojuro as the human settled on top of him, face resting against Akaza’s chest.
A deep sigh and a contended hum announced Kyojuro’s total relaxation.
Cuddling wasn’t a thing Akaza had any experience with, prior to Kyojuro. The concept of it had deeply confused him. His resistance to it had lasted precisely until the first time Kyojuro had run his fingers through his hair and fallen asleep on his chest. His arms wrapped the slayer in a protective embrace.
“Hey.” Kyojuro’s whisper brought him out of his sleepy daze. He opened his eyes to find the human’s expression more serious than expected. “About Uzui,” Kyojuro hesitated, worrying Akaza. “… about all of them.” His hand traced the lines on Akaza’s chest. “You understand I wouldn’t let them hurt you either, right?”
Akaza smiled, his concern leaving him in a chuffed burst of air out his nose. “Yeah.” Akaza interlaced their fingers. “I know.”
Kyojuro assessed him a moment longer, his seriousness fading quickly. He nodded, and settled back against Akaza’s chest. Blunt nails carded through Akaza’s hair. He groaned, leaning into the contact. Many hours remained before daybreak, and Akaza intended to spend every one of them with Kyojuro, right where they were.