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English
Series:
Part 1 of Kashuu (mis)adventures
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Published:
2018-05-23
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2,857
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1/1
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Old Books and New Ink

Summary:

There’s only so much two people can do in a nearly empty Citadel.

Notes:

Findarato and I like multshipping in this fandom. A lot. It's fun to speculate on the connections they might make. So we just tend to assume a whole lot of open relationships happening in the Citadel, haha. I have my OTPs, and I also have some ships like this where I think they might enjoy sleeping together from time to time. And there's something kind of... I dunno, charming? for me about the idea of Kashuu and Mutsu being the first edo era associated swords in the Citadel and kind of latching onto each other (literally and figuratively) because of that.

So somehow that led here. To me writing Kashuu and Mutsu as friends with benefits and each other's mutual first time. What can I say, I like writing smutty PWP from time to time.

(Gifted to Findarato because of all that Kashuu/Mutsu art you sent me way that one time.)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

There’s only so much two people can do in a nearly empty Citadel. And so, every few nights, Kashuu and Mutsunokami end up kissing for hours at a time.

The two of them could talk, it’s true. And they do. That first day- when Kashuu had barely been aware of how his feet related to gravity- Mutsunokami had pulled him up into a hug. Kashuu’s toes had dragged across the floor, the whole thing had been undignified, and Mutsunokami kept saying ’you’re here, you’re here, one of you is actually here.’ They couldn’t quite stop touching each other, even after their embrace ended. A touch to the shoulder here, a pat on the hed there. Names, dates, and places spill out of their mouths like a litany or incantation. This happened, this mattered, my skin against your skin makes it so.

But that had been the first day. Lately, when Kashuu wants to shed the past like a poorly fitting jacket, he likes to lie on top of Mutsunokami. He likes to press their faces together, in just this way. Their breaths mingle, warm, soft, and transparent. Tongues are soft, searching things, and if you ate too excitedly you could smash blood from them and ruin your meal. These tiny things prove their humanity. If Kashuu had pressed against Mutsunokami in their previous life, metallic sparks would be the only thing to result.

Now he likes to tilt his head back and smirk a little at the lipstick dabbed against Mutsunokami’s lips.

Mutsunokami sees where Kashuu’s vision is, licks at hi s lips, and laughs. “Oh yeah? How does it look?”

There are a variety of answers to that question. Kashuu would never be so imprecise with his own makeup, but it suits Mutsunokami’s current look; rumpled clothing, flushed cheeks, teeth marks on his neck.

“It’s not quite the right color for you,” Kashuu says after staring for too long.

“Hmm, really? What color would you pick for me?”

Mutsunokami’s hands skim up the side of Kashuu’s torso. All very normal. Then he reaches up for Kashuu’s hair tie and pulls it down. That’s new, and so Kashuu has to swallow. Even though everything in the Citadel is still so very new and he shouldn’t be getting flustered every time.

“Umm, you would need…” Kashuu tries to diagram this out, even though there are fingers lightly scratching at his scalp and it’s great. Mutsunokami’s skin is darker, but his hair is lighter. There’s some kind of scientific configuration here. Some color combination to name after careful assessment. “I’d pick something, like, different? Something better? For you?”

Mutsunokami laughs again and rolls him over.

This, Kashuu is used to happening. At first being pinned another body had been alarming. Then he’d noticed how Mutsunokami held himself up a little, never quite pressing his full weight into Kashuu. In this position he was more prone to kissing Kashuu on the forehead. Even more prone to giving praise (and he’s always been generous about that.) Kashuu has long since decided that this kind of touching could be a non-verbal compliment. He feels you’re beautiful when Mutsunokami’s tongue traces the edge of Kashuu’s ear. He feels you’re so beautiful when Mutsunokami’s teeth skim over Kashuu’s neck.

“Is it true you’ll kill anyone who sees you naked?” Mutsunokami asks. Could a voice be disheveled? If so, that’s what it is at the moment.

Kashuu gives the hidden question a moment’s thought, and then nods (even though he should be shaking his head.)

“You’re not my enemy. I’d let you live.”

But it’s one thing to say that. It’s another thing to have this heart in his throat when Mutsunokami unties knots, pulls at fabric, reveals everything that should be concealed. Kashuu hasn’t really been invited but he has to sit up and yank things off Mutsunokami too. With each passing moment there’s less between them. Even flimsy cloth could be a kind of armor.

At least they’re both bare. At least Mutsunokami’s look is entirely earnest before he pulls Kashuu up into his arms. Kashuu sits on Mutsunokami’s thighs, but they don’t kiss yet. They’re human and have all the same parts. But they aren’t the same. Mutsunokami mind goes in directions Kashuu can’t fathom, he needs different kinds of lipstick, and his body is shaped in different ways. He’s something new and different and enticing. Kashuu’s hands wander and all the differences prickle under his skin like static electricity in muscle and bone. Mutsunokami is also curious, judging by the way he lays Kashuu back down, exploring him. First with this hands, and then with his tongue.

“You really came out amazing,” Mutsunokami says after a while, resting his head on Kashuu’s chest. Maybe he hears Kashuu’s heart stutter and skip a beat.

“I like to look at you, too.”

“I don’t just mean looks.”

“No?” Kashuu is genuinely puzzled for a moment, and then decides this is just one of those strange things. Those Mutsunokami things. “What do you mean?”

Mutsunokami raises his head, and strokes his hand through Kashuu’s hair. Now he’s the one trying to describe something, and Kashuu is just as impatient as Mutsunokami had been. He wriggles a bit, until Mutsunokami has to catch his breath.

“You know,” Kashuu all but hums, “this isn’t all there is. There’s lots more we could try.”

And then there’s absence. Before Kashuu is even done speaking, Mutsunokami rolls off and away so fast that Kashuu wonder he’s done something wrong. Before he can even name his worry, everything is erased after a glance at Mutsunokami’s sheepish grin.

“When we started kissing all the time I kinda did research.” Mutsunokami’s turned away from him, filing through an indiscriminate pile of stuff.

“Research.” Kashuu sits up, wondering why they didn’t go to the bed. Why they always seemed to land in a heap on the floor together. Weren’t these things usually done on gentle surfaces? “Like what, though? How to have sex? I know the basics, and you do too.”

“Yes, but…” Mutsunokami, fully naked, wanders back. “Making sure is good, right?” He has books. He has print-outs. He leaves them at Kashuu’s feet. The paper and ink look so new that Kashuu half expects the pages to feel warm when he touches them. He’d rather be touching Mutsunokami.

“Does Aruji know what you’re using her resources for?” Kashuu flips through some things, and winces at an illustration or two. Just looking at them made his joints ache. “Just so you know I’m not doing this position.” He waves the book around.

“Awww,” Mutsunokami says, as he finds what must be a bottle of lube. “But you seem so bendy.”

“Nope. Nope.” It’s a little hard to keep the exasperation in his voice, when he’s surrounded by all this evidence of Mutsunokami’s attention to detail. Like offerings of affection left on a god’s altar. All this planning and care aimed at Kashuu alone.

He does squawk a little when Mutsunokami plucks him up off the ground. The bed is just a few feet away and Kashuu could have crawled into it.

“Fine, let’s not get too ambitious tonight,” Mutsunokami says. Kashuu only has a short while to adjust (and enjoy) being carried. He’s soon carefully placed down on the futon.

“Hah, I can be ambitious,” Kashuu says, when Mutsunokami lies down beside him.

And then, before he can over think it, Kashuu licks his fingers, reaches between their bodies, and wraps his fingers around Mutsunokami’s cock.

He goes slowly at first, drinking in each and every change; Mutsunokami becoming even harder against his fingers, the way his eyes open and close, the way his breathing becomes so sharp it sounds like it could draw blood.

“What are you thinking?” Kashuu asks, softly, the moment it seems like Mutsunokami’s drifted too far away.

“Mmmm, it’s just… really, really good.” Mutsunokami swallows. “Better than my hand. Better than imagining you doing this to me.”

“You thought of me that way?” He has to keep his voice from wavering. It never ceases to surprise him, whenever he learns that someone still thinks about him when they are no longer in the same room.

“Did you think of me, too?”

And that’s also a surprise. Someone wanting Kashuu’s regard.

“Yeah. Show me how it’s good. Please.”

Maybe that last bit is too formal, too serious, and that’s why Mutsunokami laughs a little. He doesn’t have to be told twice, though, and soon enough Kashuu is burying his face in Mutsunokami’s neck, biting whenever he wants to let out unlovely little moans.

“Ow! Hey!” Mutsunokami yelps then cracks up when Kashuu maybe chomps a little too hard. He hasn’t drawn any blood yet, but he can see bruises emerging just below the skin. Kashuu wonders if it’s like thin ice; a slight veneer, that can crumble at the slightest poke.

Mutsunokami withdraws his hand, and cups Kashuu’s chin. “Why’d you have to show up with such sharp teeth?” His thumb caresses Kashuu’s lower lip, probably swiping off the last of the makeup there.

“I think you like it,” Kashuu says, unreasonably pleased that he’s still a weapon. Even like this, even now. He slides his lips down Mutsunokami’s thumb, letting his teeth graze over calluses. He doesn’t bite down, doesn’t scrape skin. The thrill of possibility hangs there, though, pooling below his stomach.

Damn. Do humans really do this all the time?” Mutsunokami seems to be whispering to himself. He reaches for the bottle of lube.

“Maybe that’s why they’re so fragile,” Kashuu says, doing a good job of keeping his voice light. Breakable is another word for fragile, isn’t it?

Mutsunokami looks over at his, though, and pulls him into a strangely chaste hug. This time Kashuu gets to linger in Mutsunokami’s arms.

When Mutsunokami draws in a breath- like he might broach some kind of heartfelt conversation- Kashuu gives him a kiss that can probably only be described as ferocious. Soon enough he settles over Mutsunokami, like some kind of clinging vine. Kashuu is up on Mutsunokami’s legs, his thighs settling against Mutsunokami’s hips.

He tries to kiss through it, when Mutsunokami slowly pushes slick fingers up into him. The grimace must register against Mustunokami’s lips, though, because he pulls back.

“Should I stop? Is it bad?”

It’s neither bad nor good. Kashuu doesn’t have an adjective for any of this. The feeling of another being pressing inside him, opening him, exploring him. It’s not the same as having Mustunokami’s tongue in his mouth. Kashuu can’t really push back.

“It’s different?” He shifts and squirms, and it makes no difference. Mutsunokami is still right there. Momentarily a part of Kashuu. “Keep going.”

He’s never thought of Mutsunokami’s fingers as being quite this long. Or maybe broad is the better word. Either way, maybe the research paid off after all. He finds the prostate easily enough, and the shock of pleasure makes Kashuu jerk and cry out. It’s all wrenched out of him, and he only makes sense of it when the echo of his moan fades away.

Oh.” Kashuu’s hips quake a little, like they have a life of their own. “Oh, that- that-”

“This?” Mutsunokami’s presses against the spot again, and Kashuu forgets how to speak. Forgets anything other than his mind-numbing gratitude that he gets to be human. That he gets to have this experience. Thank you Aruji, thank you thank you thank you I love you thank you. Even now, even like this, he knows better than to say it.

“Yeah.” Mutsunokami’s voice registers as a bit smug, but Kashuu can’t associate any feelings to that observation. “I think I found it.”

Mutsunokami repeats the motion, slow and sure, but never fast enough that Kashuu can come. For a while Kashuu doesn’t care. This sort of concentrated agony-pleasure is more than he ever imagined, more than he’s ever deserved.

But then he becomes aware of things; the bangs sticking to his forehead, the way his chest shudders with every breath, the awkwardness of this position. “My body looks ridiculous,” he coughs out, when he gets a chance. “Don’t look at it.”

“Your body is wonderful,” Mutsunokami kisses Kashuu on the temple. “But I’ve only been looking at your face, beautiful.”

Beautiful. He says it like it’s Kashuu’s name. “Okay, get out of me,” he says, aiming for ‘casual’ and landing somewhere closer to ‘desperate.’

Mutsunokami follows orders, and seems to attempt a laugh when Kashuu pushes him flat on his back. Through the fog of lust, it’s somewhat gratifying that Mutsunokami seems to be cycling between emotions, too. Confusion, concern, excitement, hunger. Were they truly his, or was that just Kashuu reflected in his eyes? Perhaps, when you shared time and space this fashion, everything merged together in some nameless way.

Kashuu raises his hips, reaches to line Mutsunokami up against him, and pushes down. Down, and down, until he can’t go any further. It’s so much more than Mutsunokami’s fingers, and that had already been a little too much. But stubborn fascination keeps him there, tight, and sore, and full. Mutsunokami’s hands hold onto Kashuu’s face. They smell like old books and new ink.

“Think I didn’t do this right,” Kashuu’s words waft out on a tight breath. He rocks back and forth a little, and it’s hard to think any of this is incorrect when he stares down into Mutsunokami’s face.

“Get off.”

“I’m trying.” Damn, did Mutsunokami think this could happen in a second?

“No I mean…” Mutsunokami’s hands grab onto Kashuu’s waist, and he actually separates them.

For a moment or two, Kashuu is lying next to Mutsunokami, making sounds of protest, trying to shape them into words. It’s like holding onto water. Then he goes silent, as Mutsunokami reaches for the lube, pours it over his hand, and strokes it over his cock. The sight of it- the rhythm of it- is oddly soothing.

“Okay. Right. Now feel free to jump on my dick.”

Ugh. The things Mutsunokami said sometimes.

(Ugh. It would be so boring without him.)

“I really-” Kashuu’s breath hitches as he resumes the former position, and feels Mutsunokami pressing into him again. “I really, really shouldn’t.”

“Ah, but you did,” Mutsunokami slurs. “You’re doin’ it now, beautiful.”

That isn’t quite right. They’re making this happen together, weren’t they? The slide is easier this way. Still overwhelming and vulgar, earthy and impossible to ignore. But now Kashuu can move with ease. First he’s slow, allowing his body to adjust, trembling a little at the sensation of Mutsunokami’s cock sliding against his prostate. Then he begins to pick up speed, succumbing more and more to the instincts of his body. It knows what it wants, and it knows how to get it.

“Mmm, you’re so loud.”

“Sorry,” Kashuu says, and then repeats it with less conviction every time he shoves back down. “Sorry, sorry… sorry...”

“Don’t be.”

Mutsunokami’s hands find their way to Kashuu’s hips. First they lend strength to Kashuu’s movements. Then something in Kashuu surrenders more, and he lets Mutsunokami steer everything. This is not the most vigorous exercise of Kashuu’s short human life, but his thighs are all but useless. They shake and burn, even with Mutsunokami helping him move.

For the second time he’s lifted off of Mutsunokami. This time, though, he’s placed on his back with infinite care. When Mutsunokami pushes in, Kashuu wraps tired legs around a muscular frame. It’s an anchor. It’s a way to keep Mutsunokami there.

He comes likes this, his tangled hair draped half on the futon, half on the floor. Mutsunokami shoving deep into him, hissing compliments into Kashuu’s ear. Mutsunokami follows almost immediately after, groaning hard after one last thrust.

And then…

And then it’s over?

Kashuu ponders this, in the middle of categorizing physical sensations. He ponders this in the middle of giving thanks for choosing waterproof mascara today. In the middle of sex, it had seemed a little like they’d stumbled across the key to eternity. Now, in this sticky, messy aftermath, he realizes it had probably only been a matter of moments. A fraction of a day. An even smaller fraction of his life so far. He doesn’t know what to do with this realization. It’s just like a low frequency, beneath all the more immediate concerns.

Such as checking in on Mutsunokami.

“Hey,” Kashuu murmurs, inexplicably blushing when their eyes meet. He honestly might wither and break if he sees any disappointment there.

“Hey, you.” Mutsunokami carefully extricates himself, then gather Kashuu back into his arms. “Hey, beautiful.”

He kisses Kashuu’s forehead again and again, until Kashuu starts kicking and laughing.

“What an adrenaline rush, huh?” Mutsunokami muses, when they’ve settled down again. “Can’t believe I got to do that with you.”

“Don’t say it like you only get to do that one time.”

“Oh?”

“I mean you said you thought I’d be bendy, right?”

In truth, Kashuu is in no shape to do that again, immediately (let alone any sort of acrobatics.) But there’s nothing preventing them from kissing again and again.

So that’s what they do.

Notes:

ETA: Oops, fucked up the html in one place and somehow didn't notice. Fixed it (thankfully it only knocked out a paragraph albeit a kind of crucial onee UGH.)

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