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Their first few times, Nobunaga recalls, were humiliating on his part.
Those nights weren't as devoid of enjoyment as one would think. The Demon Lord can attest to that. But those moments led to Nobunaga drowning himself in the embrace of various women over the years until he returned to the man currently writhing under him.
(And none could quite quench his thirst like the taste of Kicho pouring down his throat).
One particular scene that comes to mind is an encounter at Inabayama Castle. They had met in a nearly abandoned room, one balmy afternoon.
Nobunaga remembers how sweltering the weather was. He had been out in the fields, taking up some challenge to prove himself to his father-in-law. Saito Dosan remained his haughty, deriding self, eyeing Nobunaga's every movement like a hawk.
Somewhere in the background was the radiant Nouhime, sending him a secret smile.
Oh, how Nobunaga had wished it'd been her he was married to. They took him for a fool, like his other enemies, and sent a 'concubine' his way. Nobunaga glumly recalled how he was at a loss for words upon discovering what Kicho hid underneath his robes.
It's a custom , they told him. To take a male vassal to your bed . But Kicho was not his vassal nor understudy, and he was older than the still-maturing Nobunaga.
Nobunaga winced in pain as sweat went into his eyes. Somewhere, the other 'princess' was sulking and hiding away from the sun and the suffocating air throughout the castle.
It didn't take long before Nobunaga found Kicho in one of the emptier wings inside the castle, kimono disheveled. He didn't even curse, didn't even chastise the brat upon discovering him in such a state.
Kicho's long hair, Nobunaga noticed, was in disarray. Free from its knots, the young warlord-to-be admired how beautifully it framed his face.
(Nobunaga fondly remembers how he used to think that Kicho was wearing a wig. It stayed in place even as the young warlord tugged the silk-like strands. Playfully, but with intent.)
Kicho was fully aware of the boy 's predatory look as sweat ran along his collarbone. Didn't even try to cover his chest, allowing Nobunaga to drink in his shameful appearance. His lips were stained a rosy hue from his sister's rogue.
A prey, willingly offering himself for the demon to devour.
Stare at me if you like. See if you dare reach out to me.
And when Nobunaga did, Kicho looked down at him with the same arrogant pout that always graced Saito Dosan's face.
The expression was absent on their first night together, fortunately. The night had taken an awkward turn the moment Kicho discarded his kimono. To add insult to the injury, he even suggested that they both sleep in separate futons for the time being.
Nobunaga, too bewildered to respond, sat dumbly on his own futon.
(But they tried anyway, some weeks after. Nobunaga smirked victoriously each time Kicho's mocking façade crumbled away in the throes of pleasure).
Part of the door was left ajar on purpose. Nobunaga had every intention to let the entire castle know he was laying claim on one of their masters.
For once, Kicho didn't raise an eyebrow at Nobunaga's boldness.
Still, the older man insisted on turning away from Nobunaga, facing his feet instead. With this position, Nobunaga couldn't reach for him, even if he wanted to.
A lie, really. Kicho's waist was right there, perfectly curved for Nobunaga's hand to rest upon. He could hold onto it as Kicho rode him—
Deep blue locks cascaded over broad shoulders, reminding Nobunaga of his betrothed's true nature once again. Nobunaga wondered what would happen if he tried pulling them back. Roughly. To tilt his head and make Kicho look at him. To do more than just trace imaginary lines along his inviting spine.
Would he glare at me with eyes full of disdain?
Or would he look at me with eyes glazed over, jaw slack and drooling from the ecstasy I poured into him?
In the end, Nobunaga chose to claw the tatami, awaiting his own climax. It wasn't wholly unpleasant.
Still, he longed to try.
Nobunaga grunts as he releases into Kicho's relenting body, burying himself deep.
It's a humid summer night, the sound of grasshoppers ringing in Nobunaga's ears. The inn where they're staying is discreet, far away from the frenzy in Azuchi, and certainly nowhere within the oppressive walls of Inabayama.
Nobunaga doesn't pull away from Kicho, even with their sweat mingling and the latter's breath hot on his ears.
"Milord?" Kicho calls. What a lovely sound his hoarse voice makes. "Is something the matter?"
How Kicho knows what is on his mind, Nobunaga cannot guess. He curses at himself for letting a distant memory ruin this moment.
"Nothing," he smiles, almost apologetically. "It's just—"
Kicho stares at him with awaiting eyes, face flushed from ear to ear. Even if the man complains, Nobunaga knows Kicho will welcome his advances until daybreak.
Such a far cry from the man who left him behind at Inabayama, his face red with remorse. The sight had left a lingering regret in Nobunaga's mind.
And something of a desire.
Nobunaga slips out of Kicho and pulls a thin blanket over their bodies.
"Rest," Nobunaga murmurs. "I've had enough."
He means to say, " You've had enough ," but that will only arouse Kicho o even more. All they need now is a good night's sleep, Nobunaga knowing that Kicho will already be up and about before him, ready to tend to his lord.
He chuckles. They've come quite a long way.
No longer were the days of Kicho silently resenting himself and his circumstances (Nobunaga included). And Nobunaga was no longer the young 'Fool' everybody thought of trampling under their feet.
A part of Nobunaga was willing to let Kicho go so that he'd decide his own fate. To choose his own path, far away from the war rooms and treacherous clan meetings.
But not so, Nobunaga's stubborn part decided. Nobunaga would never let the intelligent, resilient Kicho slip away from his hands, much less fall into the hands of another.
And then there's the matter of.....whatever kind of spark Kicho has ignited inside.
Nobunaga smiles wrily. Some things are better off pondered some other time.
So Nobunaga closes his eyes and lets himself drift off against Kicho's chest.