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San winced at the sound of something clattering to the floor in the kitchen.
“Pucchi!” he scolded, chasing off the spoiled little tub of cat who had decided to help himself - and Gucci and Pinky - to the makizushi San had been in the middle of making when the mailman had come to the door, needing a receipt stamp for a certified letter. Sighing, San left the mail on Isshi's desk, then closed the office door before cleaning up the mess the animals had made. He would have to run down to the nearby market for more vegetables now, putting dinner behind schedule, but maybe Isshi would need to work later?
Or maybe he would hear the crunch of gravel just as he was about to slip into his shoes. Dammit. And then worry struck; it wasn't even three in the afternoon, Isshi was home far too early for normal. Unwrapping from coat and scarf, he hurried into the kitchen to set water for tea and tried to tell himself not to worry. It wasn't going well.
“Tadaima,” Isshi called out. Even the older man's voice sounded tired, San's worries getting worse as he hurried back to the genkan.
“Okaerinasai. Tea will be a few minutes,” he murmured, kneeling at the edge of the step up into the house. “Mail arrived, it's in your office.”
“Thank you, kitten. I'm expecting a guest shortly, but don't let that interrupt your day, ne?” Isshi said, hanging up his coat.
“Will your guest be staying for dinner?” he asked, already trying to mentally adjust his plans.
“I sincerely hope not,” Isshi said, shaking his head, then tugging San up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Go on, dearest, I can manage tea by myself.”
“Yes, I'm sure you can, sir,” San said with a little huff, “but you won't. We have a contract.”
Isshi's laughter always sent warmth skittering through San's chest. He didn't care to examine just why, not yet, but it was welcome reassurance.
“Of course, pet, of course,” his master demurred, brushing another kiss to his cheek. “I'll be in my office then.”
San was just about to take the tea into Isshi's office when someone knocked at the door. Curious and wanting to make a good impression, he smoothed his apron before answering the door. He wasn't sure who was more surprised, him or the man standing opposite him.
“Ah ... San-kun of Nega, isn't it?” the elder said, a charming smile appearing as he bowed politely. “He mentioned a –.”
“If you call him my wife, senpai, I swear...,” Isshi mock-threatened from somewhere behind them. Sugizo laughed ... and still presented a bottle of sake to San.
“I hope this will be acceptable with dinner?” his senpai said with another polite bow.
“I thought,” San started, glancing back at Isshi a moment even as he accepted the gift of alcohol. But as easily as Isshi was able to read San, San couldn't say the same, his master's expression too closed to him just then. He felt suddenly cut adrift, scrambling to think of the right response.
“Such a terrible old oni, isn't he?” Sugizo said in a conspiratorial tone, leaning in and squeezing San's hand. “Don't worry, I'll help with dinner. It's the least I can do.”
“Eh? Oh, ah, no, that's okay, we were just going to order in something anyway,” he lied, annoyed at the way he blushed for feeling Sugizo's hand on his. Completely ridiculous, but to be noticed by such an honored senpai ... it was almost too much. A beat and Sugizo leaned back, shaking his head.
“Really, Isshi-kun, you shouldn't be such a terror to your new wife. He might decide to leave you for someone even more charming if you aren't careful.”
“Stop poaching and get in here,” Isshi huffed, gesturing towards his office. “Grab the tea while you're at it? I'll just be a moment.”
“Of course. A pleasure, San-kun,” the elder musician said, sweeping past the two of them and on into the house. Isshi caught San by the wrists, holding him securely, but he waited for the sound of the office door closing before speaking.
“As much as he might want to stay, if you're not comfortable with it, kitten....”
“It is your house and he is your friend,” San demurred with a tiny shake of his head. “I can adapt.”
“Hmm.... All right, I'll order something for us closer to dinner. I'm sorry we're interrupting your afternoon, kitten, I'll make it up to you tonight, I promise.”
Another kiss, a gentle squeeze, and Isshi was disappearing off to his office. San lingered in the genkan for a long moment, feeling completely giddy and utterly silly at the same time. But if tonight was finally the night, then he just might have to thank his senpai later.
Whatever business had brought Sugizo to the house in the middle of the afternoon, it must have been discussed while San was out picking up the dry cleaning, because every time he checked on them they were discussing either music or Sugizo's work on environmental issues and anti-nuclear activism. Unless that was why? But that seemed unlikely, especially with Isshi coming home so early and unexpectedly. San knew his master was keeping secrets about work he did that was unconnected to his life as Isshi of Kagrra, but even with as curious as he was, he couldn't bring himself to ask. It wasn't really his place, was it; if Isshi wanted him to know, he would tell him, simple as that. Until then...
And then there was dinner. San was certain he spent most of it some shade of red and sputtery, incoherently trying to respond to Sugizo's flirtations and the possessive hand on his thigh. And of course the more flustered he became, the more pleased with himself Sugizo seemed to be. Which was ridiculous because why someone like that would even notice someone like him....
“Always a pleasure,” Sugizo said as he got ready to leave, turning and clasping one of San's hands in both of his. “If you ever get tired of this grumpy old oni....”
“Out! He's not for you!” Isshi grumbled, a possessive arm tightening around San's waist. He could feel his cheeks heating as Sugizo, with deliberate slowness, lifted his hand and kissed the back of it before leaving.
“Charming asshole,” Isshi grumbled as he pulled San away from the genkan. “I'm sorry for making you put up with that all afternoon.”
“It ... it was no trouble,” San mumbled, shivering a little at the press of lips to his neck.
“Next time, I'll send him home,” his master said quietly and San shivered again as fingers slipped under his shirt. “You look quite cute in that apron and kerchief. Like a good little wife.”
“S-senpai,” San stammered.
“You've been so good,” Isshi said, stopping them at the base of the stairs, almost as if he meant to offer him a choice. “So patient with this old man. Thank you for not taking his bait.”
San didn't know what to say, blushing hard. He was pretty sure he already knew how Isshi would respond if he confessed to not believing Sugizo's flirtations had been the least bit genuine.
“Leave the dishes and come up to bed,” Isshi said into his neck. San hesitated, unable to help himself.
“The cats....”
“They'll be fine until morning. Come up to bed.”
Another kiss to his neck and Isshi was turning and heading up the stairs. And still San hesitated. Was it really okay to just leave everything overnight? And yet could he really just ignore the orders of his master? No, of course not. Telling himself not to think about worst case scenarios, he followed Isshi up to his, no their bedroom, dutifully moving forward to help him undress. Isshi didn't say anything at first, though he did remove San's kerchief, running his fingers through blue strands. San hummed a little, sinking to his knees even as he helped the man out of his pants. Instead of getting up again like he usually did, though, San leaned forward, nuzzling Isshi's cloth-covered cock with a low hum. He felt daring and excited, even more so when Isshi responded by gripping a handful of San's hair, holding him close rather than scolding or pushing him away. A tiny thrill surged through him, they were actually doing it. Isshi was actually allowing, even encouraging this. He almost didn't know what to do next.
“Do I need to give detailed instructions, kitten?” Isshi asked softly, stroking fingers through San's hair as he smiled.
“If that is what sir wishes,” San demurred, another frisson of excitement racing up his spine. The low chuckle that was Isshi's response worried him for a moment, but he quickly pushed it aside as ridiculous, focusing instead on first freeing Isshi's length from his boxers and then slowly exploring every bit of it with his tongue. San couldn't stop a low groan as he finally closed his lips around the head, the taste of precum filling his mouth as he tongued the slit. Closing his eyes, he sank even deeper into his role, worshiping Isshi's cock with his mouth even to the point of whining when he was pulled away.
“Next time, perhaps,” Isshi said, lust sparkling in his eyes. “Master has other plans tonight.”
San flushed; he knew exactly what that meant, or at least hoped he did as he got up and quickly undressed himself. He was momentarily daunted by how best to present himself, settling on their bed on elbows and knees, glancing back even as he wiggled his hips a little.
“Like this, sir?” he asked, biting back a cheeky grin.
“Yes, just like that,” Isshi agreed, moving up behind him and sliding his hands along San's back. Such gentle, knowing hands, lingering over San's tattoos as if they were new, special. San had never thought of his ink as being particularly erotic, but something about the way Isshi touched him ... his whole body felt inflamed, aroused. The touch of Isshi's mouth on his shoulder was almost too much, he struggled to keep still as Isshi slowly, oh so slowly, stretched him with his fingers.
“Please, Isshi-sama,” he whimpered, wanting more and yet feeling impertinent for that.
“Always so good,” Isshi murmured against the small of his back, still working him with his fingers. “Always taking such good care of things. The house, the animals, me. You deserve to be rewarded for such service, yes?”
Apparently his needy whine was answer enough, Isshi's cock steadily filling him. Better than he could have imagined, a million times better than things had ever been with Jin. Isshi's hand on his cock was all it took, he lost it in a burst of pure pleasure. For a half second he panicked, ingrained instinct convinced a violent outburst was imminent. Yet Isshi neither struck him nor even stopped moving, though he was moving slowly, even tenderly, hands running along San's sides and back, coaxing him to relax once more. He couldn't very well resist such a focused tender assault on his nerves, melting into the bedding as best he could without completely moving out of position.
Isshi came with a low groan of San's name and it tweaked at something in his chest, but he still couldn't move. His lover moved off the bed, cleaned them both, and still San needed Isshi's help just to get rolled over onto his side. How completely pathetic, what was wrong with him? Jin would be completely disgusted about now.
“We need to talk about that,” Isshi said, almost too softly. “But it can wait if you're too tired, kitten.”
“It's not ... I'm sorry,” he mumbled, somehow finding the strength to snuggle up to Isshi's chest and sighing a little at the strong, steady heartbeat under his ear. “I ... Jin-kun would be so furious any time I dared cum without first begging for his permission, especially if it was before him.”
“I am not Jin-san, kitten,” Isshi soothed, stroking his hair. “Unless we have explicitly agreed otherwise at the start of a scene, your pleasure is your own. More importantly, I will never punish you in anger. You are my lover, not some rented mule. I will never strike you in anger, and if I do, you have every right to call me out for it then and there. The power you cede to me is a gift I must always earn, not a right I can just demand, and it's one you can revoke at any time, for any reason, do you understand?”
San nodded, burrowing in closer. Even though everything Isshi had just said had also been laid out in their contract, his senpai didn't sound angry or disappointed or even just annoyed at having to repeat himself, unlike Jin would have. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Treacherous tears that escaped him too quickly, betraying him to his master.
“That ... that animal was not worthy of you, precious kitten,” Isshi said softly, holding him close and rubbing his back. “What he did to you was wrong. In time, you will see, you never need fear me, especially not here, I promise. That is not how things are meant to be.”
San wanted to say ... something. Anything. He didn't know what, though, and the tears weren't interested in letting him anyway. Instead, he pressed closer and prayed the gods would let this last long enough for him to heal properly.