Work Text:
“So, Giyu, what’s up?”
Tengen broke the ice. It was just past midnight, and while the energy in the room around them was picking up, their corner of the bar had gone quiet.
Giyu and Tengen were the last two standing. Kyojuro had been first to take off, peeling away to jump on texts arriving from someone named Hakuji. Sanemi left shortly later, proclaiming he was tired and he’d had enough of their nonsense.
The Winter Recital had been a triumph, garnering the group thundering applause and a standing ovation. After whooping backstage and emerging to hearty congratulations from the friends, professors, and community members who had come out to see them perform, they made off to a nearby bar to celebrate. Along the way, they lost Genya to a gaggle of loud underclassmen.
Giyu was finally alone with Tengen, after weeks of tailing him around campus and lurking in the shadows at Hashira Cycle. And now he was at a loss for words, having been so focused on the pursuit, straight out of a rom-com, that he hadn’t considered what to say in response to such an ordinary prompt.
What would interest Tengen? Something to do with music seemed like a safe choice. What was actually “up,” that thing from the other day he had spent the last seventy-two hours trying to forget, probably not.
“Uh—I’ve been delving into Benjamin Britten lately.” Giyu never talked about his classwork. He winced at himself for leading with something so random.
“How fascinating,” Tengen said, tone obliging. He squared his shoulders with Giyu’s and tilted his head. “Say more.”
Okay, here goes. Giyu’s words tumbled out.
“I’m taking a music history seminar and, for a paper I’ve been working on, I first figured it would be easiest to go all-in on Shostakovich—you know, with the stuff going on with the string quartet. I found in my research they were friends... I ended up changing topics.”
Tengen propped up an elbow and leaned in, close enough to bare individual teeth. “A flamboyant move for flamboyant music. Are you familiar with ‘Les Illuminations’?”
“Yes! ‘Flamboyant’ is’ a good word for it.”
They traded notes for a while, sharing their impressions of Britten’s oeuvre, sidetracking on who they preferred to sing parts written for a high voice—after some debate, they agreed sopranos were preferable, more range—before diving deep into the operatic masterworks. The conversation eventually veered into delicate territory.
“Yeah… It’s one of those things where art inevitably imitates life. No matter how you try to separate the art from the artist, Britten was in—” Giyu paused, searching for the right words.
“—Great distress for a long time,” Tengen finished. “His pain transcends the medium.”
“Right. To be openly gay during a time when it was illegal…”
In their shelter of chattering voices, clinking glasses, and bustle, they shared a contemplative silence.
Giyu had came out to his friends during senior year with neither pomp nor circumstance—he had always known, they had always suspected, and a label was all that was truly needed—but his mother still asked about him and Shinobu. Nevermind that Shinobu herself had just paired off with a spritely young woman from her school halfway across the country. And Sabito was never anything more than a “good friend.”
And, yet, the road to self-acceptance had been long and winding. It took a long time for him to understand his preferences in the bedroom, and even longer to understand his preferences could shift without that having to mean he had changed in some permanent, fundamental way.
“Things are better now,” Giyu said. “Society is more accepting now and we can express ourselves freely, pretty much.” He swallowed. “It took a while for me to realize this, but I like being gay.”
Nodding, Tengen replied, “You can be yourself and not worry about whether you’re being man enough.”
Tengen, built and towering, the very picture of masculinity, had ever had those kinds of worries?
“I like being queer, too.” Tengen swigged his beer and set down the tumbler with finality. He peered keenly at Giyu. “You know—I’ve learned a lot about you tonight. You’re more than a pretty face.”
The hubbub around them had long died into a muted roar. It was just Giyu and Tengen, alone, tied together tonight by a thread of unspoken personal histories.
“So you see that,” Giyu stated.
“I do.” Tengen held Giyu’s gaze, the thread between them pulling tighter with each passing second.
Tengen’s eyelashes cast long shadows across the whites of his eyes. Dark flecks fanned around his irises, purple in the neon glow of the sign hanging above them. Maybe it was a trick of the light—his pupils were blown wide.
Giyu felt blood rush between his legs. Time to try.
He flicked away, line of sight landing on some nondescript patch of the floor next to their feet. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s warm here.” He pressed his half-full glass, still cool, to his neck, careful to crane it high.
Tengen pursed his lips. Giyu studied him. He seemed to be mulling something over. Finally, his lips relaxed into a sly smile. He closed a hand around his tumbler and, with a forefinger, grazed the rim.
Emboldened, Giyu extended a leg. As he landed his foot on the rung of Tengen’s stool, his knee brushed Tengen’s thigh, and he took license to nudge it, creating an instant of friction before he slipped past.
Tengen placed his free hand on Giyu’s knee. Something in Giyu’s head ruptured, sending the feeling of hot water pouring over his face, rivulets streaming down his neck, seeping into his clothes, soaking his chest, dribbling to his groin.
“Before we go any further,” said Tengen, suddenly grave. “I have to talk to you about something.”
Giyu squirmed, jets cooled. “Okay?”
Tengen broke into an impish grin. “I’ve noticed you coming to my class at Hashira for a while.”
Giyu said nothing. He had last gone on Friday, to Tengen’s early morning class, where he lost—
Tengen beat him to the punch. “I wondered if what happened Friday was an accident.”
“What do you mean?” asked Giyu, futilely feigning innocence.
Giyu knew what Tengen meant. He had hoped otherwise, but knew he wouldn’t stay anonymous. He should have used a pseudonym from the beginning, but there had been something thrilling about setting up his Hashira account under his real name.
“Cleaning staff told me about the spill on 63. I was curious so I checked the sign-in sheet. Wasn’t a puzzle.”
Giyu had gotten up at ass o’clock that morning to talk to Sabito. To have video sex, the real purpose of their recurring “virtual coffee date” that semester. But Sabito had flaked with no notice, evidently prioritizing whatever was in his study-abroad surroundings over his faraway boyfriend. Wasn’t the first time something like this had happened that semester.
When Giyu walked into the Hashira workout room—at six fifty-six, said his phone before he chucked it into a locker—he could have climbed up a wall. Despite having memorized his bike settings, he fumbled his adjustments. When the studio lights dimmed and Tengen strode to his place at the instructor’s podium, the seat rubbed Giyu’s crotch in a way that foretold disaster.
And the music Tengen had selected for that morning’s class only added fuel to the fire. Giyu’s resolve broke during the song that demanded, can you make me scream? During the final refrain, a repeated call to talk dirty to me, he let go, releasing his frustration into his shorts and the humid studio air.
“So, uh,” said Giyu. “Uh, yes. It was an accident. I had a lot on my mind. Your playlist was—your playlist was something else.”
“That was the idea.” Tengen simpered. “Glad you picked up on it.”
“Is that all?” Giyu steeled himself, ready for Tengen to humiliate him.
The blow came far softer than he expected. “Yep,” Tengen said. “Just wanted you to know I know.”
Ah. So Giyu’s powers of seduction alone didn’t build this mood tonight; the two of them were playing the same game. “Feeling pent up yourself?”
“You’re perceptive. What do you think?”
“I think,” Giyu savoring the words he was about to roll off his tongue, “you are thinking about someone.”
“Yeah.” Tengen looked down, smiled to himself, and shook his head. “Guilty as charged.”
Giyu lowered his voice to a whisper. This bit was his favorite. He was about to go in for the kill. He was about to hook up with Uzui fucking Tengen, and he’d be damned not to draw out this part of the dance long as he could. “Please.”
“‘Please’ what?”
Giyu squeezed Tengen’s arm. “Please—please take me,” he murmured.
“Where?” Tengen smirked.
“You know.”
Tengen dipped his head to Giyu’s ear. “Put that big brain of yours to work and say what you really mean.” Stray hairs tickled Giyu’s chin, sending a shiver down his spine.
In a mockery of that star-crossed song from Friday, a split-second decision that would make him cringe later on whenever his mind wandered back to this moment, Giyu said, “I want to do some dirty things to you tonight.”
“No strings attached?”
“None.”
Tengen stood, gripping the edge of the table, recognition and delight in his eyes. “That settles it, then. I’ll take you home.”
Liplocked, Giyu battled for bodily high ground on Tengen’s stoop. The two were a huffing, puffing mess of twisting arms, grabbed collars, and undone shirts.
They had shoved their way out of the bar after closing their tab and, upon being hit by the still, cool night, Giyu following Tengen’s lead, sprinted down the street from the bar, rounding corners in an exhilarated blur, slowing only after they reached the end of a quiet lane dotted with small, squat bungalows.
Tengen thrusted a key into the lock and pitched open his front door. He shoved himself through, pulling off his jacket. Giyu rushed after him and ditched his own jacket in the foyer.
As soon as he heard the door latch behind them, Giyu dropped to his knees and started to grope at the front of Tengen’s pants. He found the button and freed it from its loop. Nosing aside Tengen’s fly, he fingered up tiny metal teeth until he reached the zipper pull and pinched it down.
“Impressive.” Tengen palmed the top of Giyu’s head. “Frisky. You certainly know your way around a set of trousers.”
Giyu hooked his thumbs through Tengen’s belt loops and yanked. For a sweet second, he admired the sight of Tengen, stuffed in his briefs, until he slid his grip around the elastic waistband and yanked down again.
“Fuck,” Giyu blurted as Tengen’s cock sprang out. “You’re massive.”
“You’d think that line gets old,” said Tengen, “but it doesn’t.” He laughed. “I know you can handle it.”
Anchoring himself with a tight hold on Tengen’s hips, the feeling of strong muscles between his fingers rooting him to the spot, Giyu cautiously kissed Tengen’s tip. He pressed against the slit with the flat of his tongue and closed around the girth. He slid up inch by inch, hollowing his cheeks.
When he had most of Tengen’s cock buried in his mouth, Giyu set a steady bob. He kept perfect suction, deliberately tautening further on the upstroke to ensure he was tightest when his lips were closest to the cockhead.
Tengen kneaded both hands through Giyu’s hair, mussing it. He groaned. “That’s good. You’re good.”
Giyu sped up. He was sucking dick like a champ tonight, if he thought so himself, based on the stream of praise and swear words he was drawing out. But he sensed he was a long way off from making Tengen come this way. When his jaw cramped, he released Tengen’s cock with a sick, squelching pop. His lips felt heavy and swollen. Tilting his head up, he met Tengen’s gaze. “Sorry, I need to take a break.”
“Say no more.” Tengen hiked his pants back up with one hand and took Giyu by the wrist with the other. Together, they kicked off their shoes and stumbled deeper into the house, into the living room where they collapsed on the couch.
Giyu climbed into Tengen’s lap. He grabbed fistfuls of hair and reeled him in for a wet, searing kiss, pressing all his weight into it as he wound his legs around Tengen’s waist.
“Undress me,” Giyu ordered when they came up for air.
Tengen stripped him of his turtleneck and his undershirt. He planted a kiss on Giyu’s chest and skirted a hand to a nipple, pinching it. Chuckling at the yelp that escaped Giyu’s mouth, Tengen scooted back on the couch to give himself room to remove Giyu’s pants.
Giyu’s pants hit the floor in a crumpled heap by the coffee table, quickly followed by his briefs. Completely untethered, he reclined on the couch and twisted into a languid stretch, enjoying the feeling of cool air hitting his skin and the sight of Tengen sweeping his eyes up and down his naked body.
Tengen hummed, low with appreciation. “So pretty.”
“Thanks,” Giyu said, bashful. He never knew how to respond to comments about his appearance. It wasn’t as if he did anything special to look the way he did. “You, too.”
“You dork,” teased Tengen. “Spoils the mood. Now, where did I…” He crammed a hand into a pocket and retrieved a condom and several packets of lube.
Incredulous at the notion that Tengen walked around always equipped for sex, Giyu asked, “You usually keep condoms and lube on you?”
“Yeah. Why not? Never a bad idea because,” Tengen said, winking, “I have very specific requirements.” He paused. “I do have condoms you can use here. Did you want to top?”
Giyu short-circuited at the courtesy he was being extended. No one else he had been with had made such an offer right off the bat. “I—uh—uh—wow.” He regarded Tengen’s form looming above him from the other end of the couch and imagined their positions reversed, with him looking down on Tengen’s broad shoulders and pecs and Tengen with a direct view of his ass riding cock.
He flushed. Heat roared to his cock as he considered the delicious picture the two of them would make. How it would drive Sabito beyond jealous. “No. Can I be on top, though?”
“Sure,” Tengen replied. He handed Giyu the condom. “Here, keep this safe. I’ll leave it to you to do the honors later.”
Giyu snatched the condom and, for good measure, the packets of lube. He heaved himself upright and positioned himself on his knees. He stared at Tengen dead in the eye. “How about now?”
“What, no foreplay? You sure?”
“God, there’s no time for that.” Giyu lunged at Tengen, pushing him down on the couch. He tore at Tengen’s shirt and hastily unbuttoned it, revealing a bare chest underneath. He dug his fingers around the waistbands of Tengen’s pants and underwear and pulled them down to mid-thigh.
Tengen’s cock was pink and leaking. Giyu gave it a few quick pumps, smearing fluid around the erection, eliciting a sigh. There was barely enough; Tengen’s cock felt tacky in his grip. Giyu ripped open a packet of lube, emptied it into his palm, and began to curl his hand, spreading around the lube.
Suddenly perplexed, he froze. He pondered the lube oozing between his knuckles and coating his nails. This wasn’t supposed to be a usual lay. He was intent on getting fucked, stat. He did not mean to add more distance between now and then by giving Tengen a handjob.
“Something wrong?”
“Shit,” Giyu muttered. “I wasn’t thinking. Guess I’ll do it myself.”
He reached behind himself and groped for his entrance. Finding it, he thrusted a finger through his rim and crooked his wrist, gentle at first to adjust to the feel of being penetrated, then forceful to get more than a fingertip’s worth up there.
“You’re so sexy,” Tengen purred, “putting on a show for me.”
“I don’t get to do this much,” said Giyu, gasping as he finger-fucked himself with growing urgency.
“What do you mean?”
Giyu’s mind went blank. There was Tengen, exuding confidence, even as he was caged beneath him between parted thighs, his shirtfront splayed and cock out. His eyes gleamed with admiration and lust as he patiently watched Giyu prepare himself.
“Ah—ah—indulge myself,” Giyu finally managed. “I mean, with someone else.”
Tengen reached out and ran a finger down Giyu’s left inner thigh, his touch light and deliberate. “Well, don’t hold back.”
With a grunt, Giyu released himself from his asshole and recovered several foil packets from where they had fallen in the tussle. Tearing some open, he rolled a condom over Tengen’s dick and squeezed out a few lines of lube along the length. He wrapped a tight fist around Tengen’s cock and smeared the lube out into a generous layer.
Giyu rose into a half-kneel and shuffled forward. Tengen’s cock slipped through his legs, brushing his balls before it came to rest in the cleft of his ass. He reached down and steered Tengen’s cock into place, mooring the tip against his hole.
Giyu sank down on Tengen’s dick. It burned. His asshole clenched, holding him in place. Shit. He was fucking stuck on Tengen’s solid cock. He heard only strained breaths escape his lips, then a groan, as he fought to relax. Centimeter by centimeter, he forced himself down until Tengen’s crotch touched his ass.
Tengen edged himself onto his elbows and propped up his knees. His thighs warmed Giyu’s back. “Fuck, is this what you wanted?”
“Yes,” Giyu choked. “Give me a minute.”
There was no way around the truth. He was unpleasantly full. Stuffed. Unprepared. Still, maybe he could adjust with some help.
“Move. Stretch me out a little.”
Tengen gave a slight upward thrust. “You’re so fucking tight. So tight. That’s”—he thrusted again—“ah—what you get”—and again—“for moving too fast—”
Giyu moaned sharply. He would win this challenge even if it was the last thing he did. “Harder,” he snarled, gnashing his jaw. He stroked his cock, attempting to relieve some of the pressure mounting between his legs. “Harder.”
They continued that way until Giyu was dripping sweat. The backs of his thighs and calves stuck together. Droplets dotted the crest of Tengen’s pelvis. Hot friction had built, but Giyu was no closer to getting off than when he started. He still burned. Arms stiff and head hung low, he braced himself on Tengen’s shoulders to catch his breath.
“That’s it,” declared Tengen. “I’m taking the reins.” In a single smooth motion, he pulled out and pinned Giyu down on his back. “Stay,” he ordered as he leapt off the couch. He shed his half-on, half-off shirt and pants before scampering, naked, down a hallway. When he returned, he was clutching a folded towel and a large bottle of lube. “No more messing around. I’ll take proper care of you.”
Tengen lifted Giyu halfway off the couch and laid the towel, still folded, under his hips. After setting Giyu back down on the cushions like a delicate object, Tengen knelt on the floor beside him and pumped the bottle, dispensing a liberal amount of lube onto his fingers. He slid his hand between Giyu’s asscheeks and rubbed soothing circles around his hole.
Giyu couldn’t help whimpering. The lube was cool and Tengen was so, so gentle.
“Shh, shh,” shushed Tengen. “Sometimes you just gotta take it slow. You were trying to do too much before.” He squirted more lube on his fingers and returned them to Giyu’s hole. He rocked the pads of his fingers on Giyu’s rim. “Relax for me.”
Giyu nodded and exhaled, sighing deeply. He slackened his asshole as best as he could. “Okay.”
Tengen pushed a finger through and slowly slid it back and forth. “This alright?”
Giyu nodded again. He closed his eyes. A memory of the first time he was penetrated swam lazily to the forefront of his mind. Sabito was crouching above him, concern written all over his face. “You’re too greedy sometimes,” he had said. “It’s okay to take things slow, honest.”
Giyu’s downward spiral was mercifully cut short when Tengen pushed another finger past his entrance.
“You alright?” asked Tengen.
“Ye—yes. You can keep going.”
Tengen pulled and pushed deeper inside Giyu, parting his fingers and curling his knuckles. It was having an effect, Giyu grudgingly noted, as he felt Tengen move with greater and greater ease.
Tengen worked in a focused silence. He inserted a third finger. “There you go,” he murmured. “Much better.” With his free hand, he reached between his own legs and began stroking himself.
In time, heat built within Giyu again, arousal simmering until pleasure roiled in him and a hot bubble surfaced, a little explosion in his groin. “Mmpf,” he grunted, snapping his hips up to meet Tengen’s hand halfway.
“Alright,” said Tengen. “Now, where were we? You still want to ride me?”
“I want you to fuck me.” Giyu’s voice shook. “I trust you.”
“Mm. Trust is sexy.” Tengen withdrew his hand, leaving Giyu feeling suddenly empty, and rose on his knees. He gazed down, expression tender as he leaned down to drop a soft kiss on the center of Giyu’s lips. He brushed his hand, warm and slick with lube, through a lock of Giyu’s hair that had escaped its hair tie.
Giyu wallowed in the comfort. “I trust you,” he repeated.
Swiftly, and with a growl, Tengen rotated Giyu into a sitting position against the back of the couch. He rolled up the towel he’d brought out and shoved it under Giyu’s tailbone. He grabbed both of Giyu’s legs by the ankle and spread them wide, revealing everything between them, from a leaking cock to a taint and asshole that Giyu just knew was red, raw, and swollen.
“God, you look spectacular. Just ravishing.” Tengen’s voice had gone hoarse. He dropped his knees to the edge of the seat cushions and aligned his cock to Giyu’s rim. He draped Giyu’s legs over his shoulders and braced himself on the backrest. “You ready?”
“Please—”
Sparks flew through Giyu’s legs as Tengen pushed in. White tongues of flame flared from the edge of his vision. Screwing his eyes shut, he threw his head back.
Somewhere above him, the sound of Tengen’s voice. “Good, I take it?”
“Good,” Giyu breathed.
Tengen started a slow pace. Amid thrusts, he scattered light kisses and whispers of Giyu’s name. Gradually, he sped up and threw more force into each movement, until he reached a fast and heavy beat.
Giyu cracked his eyes open. For a brief, bleary moment, he glimpsed Sabito’s hardened features—and then, when he blinked away the fog to get a better look, Tengen—mouth contorted, brow furrowed in determination, hair matted with sweat—reappeared.
A strangled cry broke free from between Giyu’s lips at the same time Tengen subtly changed his angle. His cock rubbed at a new place inside Giyu, making him quake with each stroke, each stroke making him forget who he was and what he just saw, each stroke making him moan over and over, loud and shamelessly with pleasure.
“Good, right?” Tengen interjected. “You’re so good. So—fucking—good.”
Those words lit Giyu up. His skin buzzed, vivified after a long time dormant. Nerves awoke, overwhelming his senses with the sights and sounds of being cleaved open, of being sweatily pounded into pieces. Something deep under his flesh was going to burst, soon. He reached for his cock, desperate, and set a rapid pace.
Tengen’s weight shifted. A large hand closed around the one he was using to deliver himself to orgasm. When he looked up, he saw Tengen, expression wild. “Teamwork, you know?” he panted.
Together, they stroked Giyu off until he let out a series of high, frantic whines, hips buckling, come spilling from his cock. “Nnrgh—let go—ah—”
Tengen released his grasp around Giyu’s dick and clapped the hand on his shoulder, pushing down on Giyu as he fucked him through his orgasm. His pace became frenzied until he halted, driven to the hilt, his cock throbbing inside Giyu’s ass.
When the throbbing stopped, Tengen pulled out. The two of them eased off the couch and onto the floor, leaning against the seat and each other. Tengen wrapped his arms around Giyu’s shoulders and pulled him close. Giyu buried his face in the crook of Tengen’s neck.
They sat in silence for a while, Giyu centering himself on the rise and fall of Tengen’s chest. “Thank you,” he whispered when the tempo of Tengen’s breathing had slowed and the air around them was heavy with tacit understanding.
He hoped Tengen picked up on everything he tried to put into his thanks. Thank you for not embarrassing me. Thank you for being so kind to me. Thank you for letting me use you.
“Glad I could help”—Tengen stopped himself before continuing—“you get things off your mind.”
“Hey,” said Giyu, turning up his chin, some of his confidence returning. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while.”
Tengen chuckled. “I know you have.”
“Killed two birds with one stone, I guess.”
Saying nothing, Tengen combed a hand through Giyu’s hair, fingers sliding easily through the strands, untied sometime in the fray.
The sweet gesture tugged at Giyu. It was all too easy to imagine Tengen marching him off to bed and waking him up in the morning. But no invitation to spend the night had come yet, and, even if one did, he knew he didn’t have it in him to accept.
“It’s probably really late,” Giyu said. “I should get going.”
“Alright,” replied Tengen. “Tonight was fun. All of it.” He unwound himself from around Giyu and stood, offering a hand. “C’mere. Let’s make sure you have all your clothes and then I’ll show you where you can get cleaned up.”