Work Text:
The Agni desert – better known as the sun-scoured harbinger of death, with endless seas of crimson sand and a burning orange sky – a land few dare enter and even fewer leave alive. The air itself shimmers with heat, warping reality and warning adventurers to keep their distance. Agni is resentful of life for none is found as far as the eye can see. It’s as if life gave its very blood to color this sand.
And yet, Eijirou tuts at his camel to go faster. The blood-red terrain had called to him like no other and he had answered. How could he – the scarlet terror of the world, the undefeated beast of the Kirishima mountains, the feral warrior of the North, the Blood Riot – be scared of a little sand and heat?
He sits on the strongest camel they could find, its muscles bulging under his massive frame which is still imbalanced on the poor animal. He wants to give it respite, animals don’t deserve his cruelty, but his dreams require some pain for all those that partake in it.
Eijirou is a ruthless man, bringing chaos and terror with him wherever he goes. He leads the Riot warrior tribe. They’re nomadic by nature, never settling down anywhere too long. Boredom comes easy to the tribe because it comes easy to Eijirou. He’s raided and plundered across the land – from the weathered, rocky mountain range, Kirishima, that he calls home to the once-picturesque town amidst the rolling hills of the dead Iida’s.
That’s how he earned his name, Blood Riot. Everywhere he goes, a bloody riot follows.
He is a mountain of a man, towering over even the Nordic giants of the North and broader than the hardworking miners from the East. His hair flows down to his knees, as red as the blood he spills wherever he goes and as wild as a lion’s mane.
At the first glimpse of a smile on his face, Eijirou looks like an angel with his round, curious eyes framed with thick lashes, his soft cheeks betraying his lust for meat and bread, and his plump lips often stained red. Of course, it only takes a moment for that perception to shatter. All he has to do is smile a little wider and let his sharp teeth, serrated like knives, peek through.
Unlike his face, his body is strewn with scars and muscles alike. A thick, black leather harness cuts through his broad chest, his dark nipples and taut abs on display for everyone to see. Eijirou’s thighs are the size of most men’s heads and hard enough to crush them too. Hard, solid, unbreakable; that is who Blood Riot is.
The best of his men, as wild and ferocious as he, travel beside him. He hates to leave even some of them but this new conquest is not for all. For once, his men are quiet, preserving their energy as they trod through this hellscape.
Eijirou growls at the merciless sun. Adventure is written in his soul. Hunting new terrains, seizing untouched lands, vanquishing tribes – that is what he lives for. But this sun-seared bleakness is burning his head now. His eyes want something new, something cool.
“I could never have thought my eyes would tire of the beauty of red,” he snarls in agitation.
“Big, bad, Blood Riot taken out by some heat?” his smallest and most mischievous general Denki teases. He rests easily on his camel with most of Eijirou’s necessities too. His unruly yellow hair peeks through the makeshift turban he wears and his golden eyes shimmer with mirth.
Denki brings Eijirou glee like no one else. When he drowned the sunny seaside city of the vile Kaminaris in eternal darkness, now that was a moment of true, absolute fun. Not only did the thick, warm blood of ugly, fat nobles give the soil new life, but Eijirou was also able to free Denki of his wretched family.
The boy had been surprised to find Eijirou even remembered him but how could Eijirou forget Denki’s sunshine yellow hair and even warmer smile? He had saved Eijirou from a poisonous frog. And he had done it by screaming so loud that the frog jumped off the cliff Eijirou had been napping on.
Eijirou had slapped his knee and laughed so hard that the ground itself shook. Imagine, he guffawed, the violent Blood Riot taken out by a wee frog.
To his surprise, Denki could make him laugh. Mostly at his own foolish, clumsy behavior, but it was enough that Eijirou was fond of him.
So when he heard the Kaminaris had locked their oldest son away because they thought he was not man enough to lead their pathetic little kingdom, Eijirou took it upon himself to give the city their sun back… though he may have gotten carried away and accidentally razed the whole place to the ground.
No matter. Denki wanted to travel with him anyway. He fit in well with Eijirou's close circle of misfits – Tetsu, his brother, not by birth but by blood; Tamaki, a lanky quiet man who was as nervous as he was lethal; and Shouto, a once-noble prince who killed his own father and took back charge of his destiny.
Denki has come a long way since Eijirou first met him. What he lacks in height, he makes up in speed and lean muscle. And before Eijirou can turn to snap at him, he has to throw his hands up to catch the waterskin Denki throws his way. He snaps his teeth at the blonde in mock annoyance and downs the waterskin.
He moans as he tastes more dirt than wine. He tosses the waterskin to the ground and pulls the red linen hood over his head again.
“It is too hot,” he groans. And it truly is! The magnificent red sand of the Agni desert beckoned him to this sweltering heat but already, he is tiring of it.
“You’re the one who wanted to explore this hostile land,” Shouto replies dryly. His hand scratches at the scar covering his left eye. Eijirou glares at him and he evenly meets his eye.
This is why the bastard is his commander. He’s the only one that isn’t terrified of Blood Riot; he’ll meet Eijirou head-on even if he cannot fully appreciate the chaos the redhead brings.
“I wanted this red sand to turn into a river of blood,” Eijirou says wistfully, “wanted to wet this scorched desert ‘till it's beating with a new heart.”
“You still can,” Tetsutetsu chimes in from his right, always his right. “Cheer up, brother! My sources are never wrong. There’s a tribe of barbarians in the crimson sand dunes north of here.”
Eijirou groans again but gives his people the signal to start moving north.
Katsuki is the barbarian king. He is the king! He reminds himself of that again and again as Hanta yanks the leather belt around his thin waist until it's hard to breathe.
“You sure you want it tighter?” Hanta asks dubiously.
“Quiet,” Katsuki grits out as he breathes his stomach in so his friend can pull it tighter. Friend, Katsuki thinks bitterly, your only friend is your fucking servant. He probably only talks to you out of pity.
No one fucking understands! He was forced into leading this, this, this clan of cowards and now they won’t listen to him!?
What is it about him? Is it his uncommon fucking red eyes that are apparently a fucking curse? Or is it his pale skin!? – barely a shade darker than the loose, white cotton salwar he wears. He doesn’t fucking know why he won’t tan but it’s not some fucking sign that he’s the harbinger of calamity.
“King Katsuki,” Hanta says gently, “they will listen.”
“They have to!” Katsuki snaps as he yanks his beaten white scarf out of Hanta’s hands and wraps it around his shoulders and head till nothing but his piercing eyes can be seen.
Hanta sighs and helps him put on his small jacket. It’s the same white cotton as his pants and is nothing more than a pair of long sleeves. Katsuki can’t fucking help it! His skin is sensitive and dries up easily under the harsh desert sun. The most he can do is show his fucking stomach and hope the hard, solid lines of his abs are enough to convince people not to fuck with him.
Katsuki takes as deep a breath as he can and holds still while Hanta wraps leather straps around his wrists and ankles to secure any entry points where the rotten sand may get in. It still fucking will but he appreciates Hanta for this.
He appreciates the lanky man for a lot. Though with his sleek black hair and tan skin, Hanta clearly looked like he belonged, he had never once made Katsuki feel a stranger. He’d been by his side since he was barely a boy, wrapping his body in leather straps to protect it from the unforgiving sun. Katsuki may be the king, but Hanta is his savior.
He meets Hanta’s eyes – steady and kind and unwaveringly loyal – and throws the flap of his tent open. It is time to face the elders of his tribe.
Katsuki stomps through the sand as angrily as he can, each step burying him in ankle-deep sand till his white salwar looks as if it's scattered with minuscule drops of blood. Closer to the ceremonial caves where they hold their meetings, the ground finally starts to even out to hard, rocky earth as black as death itself.
Katsuki takes another deep breath to center himself and readies to face the elders.
“My king,” several voices call out as he strides in. He does not miss how they barely lower their heads, how some of them immediately continue whatever conversation they were having, and how some dare look bored. They do not respect him and have no fear of showing that.
Katsuki seethes silently as he makes his way to the stone slab that serves as his throne. They brought him up to be their king. They put him through ordeals no child should have to go through, forced him through a literal trial by fire, and now they cannot even show him the respect of meeting his eyes.
He closes his eyes to try and contain the trembling rage he feels and when he’s certain his voice won’t shake, he speaks.
“Blood Riot has made his way into Agni.”
They look at one another with raised eyebrows. No panic ripples across the cave as Katsuki anticipated. Instead, one of them carelessly calls out, “That cannot be true.”
“It is!” he grits his teeth, “the dancer Mina had a visitor covered in his blood, his wounds courtesy of the crimson devil himself.”
“The only crimson devil we know is this sand, boy!” the Great Elder, the oldest in the room, growls weakly.
Boy!? Katsuki takes another shaky breath.
“Who would believe the words of that harlot? Shouldn’t our king know better?” another voice sneers.
Katsuki leaps to his feet, “It is TRUE! We must prepare ourselves. If even a fraction of what they say of Blood Riot is true, he will wreak havoc through our people. This land is ruthless enough, a man like that will destroy us if we let him. I believe we can win against him. I just need you to –”
“No!” the Great Elder’s firm disapproval cut through the crowd.
There is no pretense of who these people will listen to, Katsuki did not bear their insults to him and Mina just to let them die. He meets the Great Elder’s eyes, hoping against hope that he can convince this ancient fool.
“I… I am an outsider, brought here by you as a child, but these people are your own… for their sake, think again,” he implores, his voice on the verge of begging. “The children… we can send them away. And I know you are not my people but I will lead you with every fleck of fire that burns in me.”
The Elder gazes back at him, “My answer is final, boy. We have a festival to prepare for instead. Maybe your harlot can bring real value there instead.”
The cave rings with laughter, each echo of it burning through the thin layers of patience Katsuki has left. He throws his scarf over his head and storms out of the cave. No one follows.
Sheer rage carries him back to his tent where Hanta, always Hanta, waits for him. His mouth drops in a silent ‘O’ as he takes in Katsuki. He’s wise enough to not speak and makes haste with undressing Katsuki. The man knows only sleep will put out the fury Katsuki feels and is silent as he ventures to the part of the tent divided off as Katsuki’s sleeping quarters. He pulls back the sheets and lights a lamp that’ll burn through the dark as the sun sets.
He hesitates as he passes by Katsuki. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Katsuki’s lower lip trembles. Hanta squeezes his shoulder.
“We’ll do what we can, my King,” he whispers gently.
Katsuki nods. Hanta is always there to remind him that there is someone worth fighting for.
Hanta waits until Katsuki has climbed into his bed before he leaves and as grateful as Katsuki is for him, he is glad to be alone.
Katsuki waits until the sun dips into the night. He waits until the soft, hushed steps Hanta takes in the tent next to his fade into nothingness. And he waits some more ‘til even the moon’s light wavers before he makes his move.
It’s foolish, reckless, he could even say it is undeserved by the people who claim him as king but he will honor his values even if it kills him.
Instead of violently throwing the tent’s flap open, he lifts it gently and steps out into the icy night. With the descent of night, Agni brings the other end of its terror. The sand has a biting chill to it, like stepping into inky pools of frozen blood. Sharp winds sweep across the desert, numbing Katsuki’s body and making his teeth rattle. He can sense a storm coming. The stars appear, beautiful and scattered, to guide him through this foolish endeavor.
He’s barely dressed, his belt loose, and the leather straps for his hands and feet allow sand to slip in because he can never tighten him the way Hanta can. A whine crawls through his throat and he swallows it down. The cold has always been his nemesis. He’s gotten fucking soft. No, he’s grown dependent on Hanta. That is why he has to face this alone.
This tribe he leads, it is not perfect. They do not listen to him. They are cruel to him. The elders mock him and the rest look away. The children laugh at his pale skin and the youth tell stories of the horrors his red eyes will bring them. But… he is still their king and what kind of king would leave his people to be slaughtered by Blood Riot?
Blood Riot… Katsuki thinks about him often. He has heard their eyes are the same. He has heard of how his hair drips down his back like a river of blood. He has heard the man is twice his width and three heads taller than him. He has heard the man is devastatingly beautiful.
He has heard how Blood Riot is undefeated. How he roams the earth as if it is his. Mountains, seas, forests, even the glaciers have bowed before him. Katsuki will not let him have the desert too.
Blood Riot, he thinks, is like a god… if gods were vicious killers, which from Katsuki’s experience of religion and worship is exactly what gods are. He cannot wait to be the one who brought down a god.
Eijirou spins a dagger in his hand, eyebrows furrowed in boredom. It’s near dawn but he has not slept. The night is too loud. Angi howls and wails as if it has lost a lover. He misses the heated silence of day; this monster of the dark is not one he is familiar with. It’s as if the desert has come alive and is protesting his presence.
He sighs loudly and flings the dagger across the tent. Tetsutetsu snatches it up before it can slice through their layer of protection from the trembling cold outside and shoots him an annoyed look.
Eijirou lets out a little hmph and looks away from him.
“What are we doing here, Eijirou?” Tetsutetsu asks with a tired sigh. “I know you’re not here just to have ‘fun.’”
Their eyes meet for a tense moment until Eijirou decides to be honest with his brother.
“Something pulled me here, brother. Do not ask what it is for I do not know yet. But I could not ignore the call,” he chuckles wryly. “Maybe Agni will give me a sign, eh?”
Tetsutetsu holds intense foreboding in his silver eyes. In many ways, they are the same but it is his brother’s eyes that betray that he is not a real Kirishima. They glimmer like the opals from their mountains, proof that his mother may have been from Eijirou’s tribe but his father was an outsider. It is of no matter to Eijirou. Tetsutetsu is his brother and no truth on Earth could change that.
“Do you think –”
A loud commotion outside the tent breaks Tetsutetsu’s chain of thought as he jumps to his feet, axe ready in hand.
Eijirou cracks the thick muscles on his neck and lazily stands. It would seem something fun is happening at last but he will not give himself false hope.
Shouto bursts into the tent, eyes blazing and hair messy. Denki follows in, pushing a captive in front of him and Eijirou starts smiling. Someone snuck through his ranks? That deserves praise.
“Kyouka captured an enemy attempting to sneak in,” Shouto says levelly. “He refuses to speak but we believe he is from the barbarian tribe.”
The man is masked in sand-covered leather straps and loose white cloth. He is short enough to have his face hidden behind Shouto’s torso but he holds his body calmly. There is no panic at being caught. There is no tension at what harm may fall on him. Eijirou can sense no fear.
Eijirou inclines his head at Shouto to move out the way and he glares back before begrudgingly doing so.
As soon as he is in sight, the man meets Eijirou’s eyes defiantly and spits out, “Fight. You. Me. Alone. NOW.”
Overlapping uproar fills the space as his people say that is bullshit, they do not believe in fighting fair. They believe in fighting, fuck being fair! Kyouka has followed in now too and has her teeth bared. And Eijirou would normally get it. She’s the one who caught him. She should decide how this ends. He would agree, he really would. But he is mesmerized by those eyes.
It is as if time stands still as if there is no one in the world but them. Him and this man whose face he does not know. But his eyes… his eyes are the same as his and oh, they are his favorite color - the same red as the blood that leaks whenever he cuts into a man.
He feels himself nodding, hears himself whisper, “...yes.”
Tetsutetsu steps into his vision and it's as if someone dunked water over his head. His mind clears and he comes aware of the room glaring at him in confusion and anger.
He clears his throat and speaks, “Come now, this brave intruder will fail. But is he not manly for challenging me with such abandon? I will allow him a chance!”
Eijirou can feel the man’s eyes on him, steady and hungry, but he does not dare meet them again. He does not know what power this devil of Agni holds but he cannot wait to fight him.
In a rather awkward moment after his agreement to fight, Eijirou has to argue with his closest friends about going alone. This is the compromise. Tetsutetsu, whose blood runs hotter than Eijirou’s, and Denki, with whom one can never predict what will happen, are left behind. While the more level-headed of his chosen family come to keep watch over the fight and ensure the little devil will not cheat his game.
The cold has never really bothered Eijirou but Agni’s frigid winds whip their bodies as they make their way to a clearing away from their temporary settlement. The man with red eyes leads just a step ahead of Eijirou and Shouto and Kyouka follow closely behind.
Eijirou’s eyes are trained on the lithe body in front of him. The pale moonlight reflects on his all-white ensemble. He is so small, maybe Eijirou will just pick him and break him in half. Or maybe… Eijirou’s eyes flicker down. He has to adjust to the lack of light there but he can see it, the only place the man shows skin – a sliver of taut muscles across his abdomen and the tiniest waist Eijirou has ever seen on a man. He swallows thickly. Maybe he’ll break the man in other ways instead.
The man stops abruptly causing Eijirou to crash into him. He hears a panicked hiss and watches in surprise as the man leaps several feet away.
Eijirou tilts his head to the side and asks, “Are we starting now?”
The man only glares in response. Eijirou takes that as his answer and nods at his companions to keep their distance. Kyouka slides through the sand and Shouto runs across it as if it is solid ground.
Maroon sand dances up in the air as wind blows through the desert. Eijirou smirks at how the man glistens in the fading moonlight. Not a little devil, he decides, the man is a little angel instead.
“I’m ready for you, angel,” Eijirou shouts so his angel can hear him over Agni’s noise. He breaks into a grin as the man’s eyes widen with shock and then turn feral as his angel drops into a crouch.
Eijirou knows he’s being arrogant as he saunters halfway across their battlefield but the sun has started to bleed the sky red. This is his fight.
His angel dashes across the sand. Eijirou smiles at him, envisioning them locked in fiery passion. He reaches out to embrace the man but he flits to the left, grabs his hair, and slams him down into the sand.
Eijirou shakes his head violently, trying to clear his vision. Despite his lack of sight, he feels the way the air changes and catches the leg kicking his way. Tightening his hold on the leg, he whirls the man over his head and hurls him across the battlefield.
It gives him a brief moment to spit out the sand and gain his senses back.
“Okay, baby, I’ll play for real,” he calls out as he widens his stance and digs his feet into the ground. When the man comes at him again, he is ready. The man pounces into the air and throws both feet at Eijirou’s chest. The resounding boom echoes across the desert but Eijirou does not move an inch.
The man moves with the grace and speed of a leopard. He attacks. Eijirou blocks. He attacks again. Eijirou blocks again. Eijirou cannot stop grinning. They are the perfect match. He cannot be stopped and Eijirou will not be moved.
The man comes at him again and when Eijirou blocks him once more, he leaps up, grabs Eijirou’s head, and uses it to flip his body into the air.
Time stands still for Eijirou again as he watches this… this angel’s exquisite body and the way it can turn into itself. He must have him.
The man lands with a resounding thud. Eijirou shakes the thoughts away, his angel deserves his everything. He will not cheat him by holding back in any way.
The wind howls louder than ever before. Eager sands swiftly gather, piling up and up around them. It seems as if the whole surface of the desert is rising in obedience to his angel’s fury.
Eijirou begins to lower himself into position again when a sharp object glistens, cutting through the whirlpools of sand in front of him. He is ready to grab it but rather than reaching him, it lamely falls in front of his feet.
He picks it up – a dagger – and frowns at the man. He would not cheat or miss, Eijirou is sure. Something glistens in the man’s hands too. A feral grin overtakes Eijirou’s face. Ah, his angel wants to up the stakes. A knife fight! He really does understand what Eijirou likes.
They circle each other once again, sand scraping their bodies and winds loud enough to drown even their thoughts. The man is small, very, very small compared to Eijirou, but he’s fast and lethal. He manages to nick Eijirou’s rough, hard skin and that lights Eijirou up like nothing ever has before.
His thoughts turn obsessive as he forgoes his usual defensive stances and starts offensive attacks. He must have this man. The clouds of sand surrounding them are so dense that he can no longer see in front of him but he lashes out, managing to land a blow on the man’s leg.
A deceptively strong punch knocks him to the ground. The red sand can turn darker, he realizes as it wets with blood, betraying his challenger’s position. He decides to lie there in wait. His angel will come to him.
Seemingly out of nowhere, the streaming chaos of Agni turns into the full fury of a sandstorm. The sky shuts out and hurtling blasts of sand hit his body.
Despite it, he grabs the man when he pounces at him. Eijirou rolls them over and moans as he feels his dagger cut a stripe down the man’s chest. The man’s scream pierces through the desert. He deserves to have him. He’s won this. They will be together.
The man knees Eijirou in the gut and uses the distraction to roll away. Eijirou can already anticipate his next move. He bounces back to his feet with a grin and holds the dagger out, ready to finish this.
…but the man never comes. Eijirou stands there in confusion, certain that his angel would not abandon this fight. He waits and waits until Agni quiets and the sky opens up again to a brilliant orange. But his angel has disappeared.
There is no sign there was ever a storm or a fight. But there is a crystalline clarity, like Eijirou’s heart has been cleansed. He will find him again. He will find out what happened.
Kyouka and Shouto run up to him. Their eyes trace the sand, looking for where the storm must have buried the body but Eijirou shakes his head.
His hand feels wet. He lifts it to the sky and watches blood drip to the ground. His angel’s blood. He brings his thumb to his mouth and kisses that blood. It mingles with his own. Eijirou has fallen for a man whose face he does not know.
He looks at Shouto and confesses,
“I've tasted love in his blood. It was asleep in my veins, but now it's awake, thrumming in my very soul.”
Kyouka opens her mouth to speak but Shouto gently grabs her hand. He looks back at his chief, “We will find him, Eijirou.”
Katsuki groans loudly, the sound reverberating through his body. His limbs feel heavy and his mouth feels like the desert itself. It is a pain to open his sticky eyes but he works through it. Blurry pink fills his vision and he blinks and blinks till it takes the shape of Mina.
She is saying something but all he can see is her full, sensual lips moving with no sound. Like most of her, they are pink. She picks the few flowers that bloom on their cacti and makes a paste out of them. With it, she colors her lids, her cheeks, and her lips. She even uses it to dye her strange, curly hair. Katsuki’s eyes fall to her barely-clothed breasts, watching them bounce and jiggle as she fusses over him. He notices their pink tint as well and winces as he remembers the long hours she soaks in the sun to achieve it.
A moan escapes him as his forehead is covered with a wet cloth. He tries to lick the water trickling down his face. Mina notices and brings a bowl of water to his lips. He sighs in pleasure as it quells his thirst and falls back into a dreamless sleep.
When he wakes again, rays of orange sunlight crisscross over his bed. He can hear a hushed conversation near him. They stop as he tries to sit up.
Hands force him back into bed and Hanta’s worried face looms over him.
“You,” Katsuki croaks with as much rage as he can muster.
“You can be furious later, my King,” Hanta says softly. “Right now, I need you to heal. Your body needs rest, you have lost a lot of blood and your wound is not small.”
“How?” he demands.
“Honey, you are the one who went out alone to face Blood Riot of all,” Mina scoffs.
Katsuki glares at her. That’s not what he fucking meant! He’s well aware of the pain in his chest.
“He means how he is here, Mina,” Hanta says with a laugh. His thumb strokes Katsuki’s waist, “I knew my king would try something brave like this. Foolish, but brave. You knew a storm was coming. Riding out for a night and a half on your own, who knows what could have happened!?”
“I’m fine!” Katsuki spits out. He needs to know if Blood Riot will come find him. His body is shaking with urgency.
“You are not!” Mina snaps. “But you are safe here. Hanta woke me at an hour even gods wouldn't wake and we rode to where I had heard Blood Riot’s settlement was. If we had been even a couple of hours later, we could not have saved you.”
“I did not need your saving! That fight was MINE!” Katsuki screams as he tries to lurch out of bed. Hanta’s hands are around him again as he hisses at Mina to leave them alone.
“You need to calm down, my King. I do not doubt you can best anyone. But you were tired and had not slept. Blood Riot is no joke. You should face him at your best,” Hanta’s arms are warm and safe around him. Katsuki sighs and lets his forehead fall against the man’s bony shoulder.
“I nearly had him,” he whispers.
“You may have won that fight but you would have died after,” Hanta whispers back, “I cannot lose you, Katsuki.”
Katsuki pulls his head back so he can see the absolute loyalty in Hanta’s eyes.
“Okay,” he says simply, “tell me how I am here.”
Hanta sighs and pulls away from him. He flops down on a stool by his bed, “we followed you to the battle. Blood Riot’s companions almost made us but their attention was divided by the coming storm and their chief. None of us could tell where the fight was going, Agni would not allow it. But we heard your scream and it was close enough. I felt the sand shift unnaturally when you rolled away from him. I grabbed you. Bless Agni for the storm raged for long enough to make our escape untraced.”
“You are an idiot,” Katsuki shakes his head. “What if you were caught?”
“But I was not.” Hanta winks at him.
A small laugh escapes him despite everything.
“We need to warn everyone,” he says.
“We will leave as soon as your wounds heal,” Hanta replies.
“There is no time, we –”
“My King, they do not know where our dunes are. It will take them time. And… you are in no condition to travel,” Hanta reminds him gently.
Katsuki glances down at the yellowed bandages wrapped around his chest. A little red bleeds through them.
“Tomorrow. We will ride tomorrow,” he says with finality.
The ride back is slower than Katsuki would like. His idiotic servant has a cart pulling them home so Katsuki’s wounds can heal. He cannot deny it is needed. The pain has subsided now but resting another night will leave him more prepared to fight.
He stares at the shining brilliance of the night sky. Blood Riot… is even more handsome than the stories told of him. Shivers ran down Katsuki’s body when he saw that menacing smile. He wishes he could lie and say it was fear but he knows Blood Riot excited him. For once in his life, Katsuki felt alive. As if, there was something… someone he could want for himself.
He closes his eyes and burrows deeper into the thick blankets covering him. He cannot want Blood Riot. He has to kill him.
He finds his small kingdom bustling with life and joy when he gets back. The festival. He does not know what this festival the Elders wish to celebrate is. Spring has not come and the solstice is not for months.
“It’s as if they never noticed I left,” Katsuki sighs as his people give him curious looks but make no effort to greet him.
“They do not deserve you, honey,” Mina says with a frown.
Hanta is suspiciously quiet. His worried eyes are fixed on the ceremonial caves. He has tried multiple times to convince Katsuki to just leave. He does not want to fight for these people. Like Mina, he does not believe they deserve it.
“I have a duty,” Katsuki says quietly.
The walk to the caves is somber and lonely. Hanta cannot accompany him here. He walks into boisterous laughter and festival preparations.
The Great Elder is surrounded by the other Elders and when he spots Katsuki, he sneers at him, “Where have you been? We needed you!”
Some of the soldiers gather behind Katsuki. He does not know why they are here too but it works in his favor. He needs them.
“Blood Riot is here!” It is strange to utter the words once more. “This time I saw him with my own eyes.”
He finally gets the reaction he had hoped for. There are gasps around the room. They stare at him in wonder. The soldiers come closer.
“How are you here then?” one of the Elders asks.
“I… I retreated,” Katsuki amends the truth just this once. Maybe if he lets them believe they are needed… “This is a fight we can win together. He does not have many people with him. If we follow the strategy I have planned, we will be able to –”
“Blood Riot knows you are here?” the Great Elder interrupts.
“He would have found his way here anyway,” Katsuki responds with frustration. They cannot blame him for this.
“Well… that makes things simpler,” the Great Elder says with a rather sinister smile. Katsuki takes a step towards him, hoping they have found common ground, only to have the soldiers leap at him.
He is not fast enough to react to the situation. He would never hurt his own soldiers and by the time he’s convinced himself to fight back, he is already in shackles.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MINDS? WE HAVE A WAR TO PREPARE FOR!” Katsuki screams.
The Elders salute the soldiers and pass a bottle of wine amongst themselves. What the fuck are they celebrating!?
“King Katsuki,” the Great Elder mocks, “you want to save your people, do you not?”
“H-how is this saving anyone?” Katsuki stutters.
“This is why you were brought here. You are our curse. We knew there would come a day when that monster would reach us so we let you in with your ghostly skin and your uncouth ways and those eyes that promise death. After all, Blood Riot loves red, does he not? That’s why I stole a child with eyes so red,” the Great Elder’s smile grows as the crowd around them cheers.
“You… you’re going to give me to him?” Katsuki cannot believe they would do this to him. He has done so much. He gave up his happiness. He gave up his own past, his own… family. And it was all for… this?
“What is one life for the whole clan, boy?” the Great Elder asks as he turns away.
Katsuki feels frozen as he is dragged away. He lets the soldiers shove him until they reach the small cave system at the edge of their territory. Thick beams of steel are mounted in the shallow mouths of the cave. Small pools of water zig-zag across the surface and the soldiers leap over them as they carry Katsuki in.
They tie his thick ropes to the highest beam. His feet dip in the shallow pool and his arms are stretched over his head.
“Do not worry, boy king,” one of them laughs, “you won’t be uncomfortable for long. We’ll send him here soon enough.”
Katsuki is not sure how long he hangs there. His mind is clouded with betrayal, defeat, and heartbreak. He thinks of all the insults he has borne over the years. He thinks of a childhood that bled with pain and hardship. He thinks of the alienation and isolation he was put through. He thinks of being trapped in Agni his whole life; he was never meant for it, not with how the sun burnt his pale skin or how the crimson sand scraped his soft body. He endured it all… only to be nothing more than a bargain.
A gentle hand cups his chin and lifts his head, breaking him from his trance.
“My king does not lower his head for anyone,” Hanta says with a sad smile.
“I am no one’s king,” Katsuki whispers.
“They wouldn’t know who a real king is if he sat on their cocks,” Mina chimes in from behind Hanta.
“M-Mina… what are you both doing? They will kill you!” Katsuki groans.
“About that…” Hanta grimaces, “Blood Riot is here. I guess he did not like the idea of you being held captive so he is working his way through slaughtering everyone.”
“No…” a pained whimper escapes Katsuki. He just wanted to save everyone.
“Come on! You cannot be upset for these assholes,” Mina whines. “They left you out for the vultures! And if what I saw is true, Blood Riot has not hurt anyone who is not participating in the war.”
“They should all die,” Hanta says darkly.
“No, Hanta. Their betrayal does not deserve death,” Katsuki says.
Mina breaks through the intense gaze the two hold and yanks at the rope holding Katsuki, “Let’s get started, this is going to take a while.”
It is hard to hide his relief when the rope gives way enough for his feet to touch the bed of the pool. He’s submerged in knee-deep water and it does wonders to cool the sweltering sweat he is covered in.
Mina and Hanta are busy slicing through the thick rope when the cave trembles.
“Fuck! Go faster,” Hanta urges and the two pick up the pace. Katsuki’s eyes are trained on the opening of the cave and when a dark shadow covers it, he knows it can only belong to one man.
His commands… and pleas go unheard as Hanta and Mina refuse to leave and continue their attempts until Blood Riot stands before them.
Hanta abandons the rope and jumps in front of Katsuki, “If you want him, you will have to go through me first.”
Blood Riot cocks an eyebrow at Hanta. Katsuki has to agree with the expression. Hanta is no warrior and his lanky frame holding a knife in shaky hands looks comical in front of the mountain that Blood Riot is.
The redhead just sighs and takes a calm step to the side when Hanta lurches at him. The man with the scar on his face is behind them and easily captures Hanta in his arms. His eyes glint with amusement. It’s the most expression Katsuki has seen on the man’s face.
Blood Riot looks over his shoulder, “Loyalty should always be rewarded. I’ll let you live. You can continue to serve my angel.”
When he turns back and finally looks at Katsuki, his mouth goes slack. His eyes flit over Katsuki’s face as if he does not know where to pause. Katsuki can feel his cheeks heat as the man’s leather loincloth lifts with obvious desire.
Katsuki takes advantage of his unabashed staring to yank the knife out of Mina’s hands and rush at the man. He almost makes it too but another of Blood Riot’s men, the small, annoying one, throws himself in front of Katsuki and instead of having his knife pierce Blood Riot’s chest, it stabs through the man’s thigh.
“Ow, ow, OWW,” the man screeches in pain. Katsuki covers his ears because his voice is beyond grating.
The man who looks near Blood Riot’s twin grabs Katsuki’s arms and drags him back to the rope. Katsuki scowls but knows better than to resist right now.
He watches in contempt as Blood Riot coos at the little general, thanking him for saving his life. Mina whimpers beside him and he shushes her. He has a feeling the man will let both Hanta and Mina live.
“You were supposed to take me and let everyone go,” Katsuki calls out to him.
“Why would I spare a people that betray their king?” the man asks with a tilt to his head. He approaches Katsuki and crouches down so they are at eye level, “It’s nice to finally meet you, King Katsuki.”
Katsuki has to swallow his whimper being this close to the face of perfection itself. He had thought Blood Riot a god but now… now that he could see him, he was just a man, a man looking at him with something that came very close to resembling… love.
“I…” Katsuki starts.
“Yes, my angel?” Blood Riot asks as he swipes his thumb across Katsuki’s lower lip.
“Let’s fight,” Katsuki whispers.
“Yeah? That made you feel something too, did it not?” Blood Riot whispers back.
Katsuki shakes his head, “Fight. We fight and if I win, you let my people go.”
“They are not your people and they're mostly dead,” Hanta scoffs beside him. Katsuki silences him with a look. He turns his attention back to Blood Riot who is looking at him with such adoration.
“He is not wrong. There are not many able-bodied people left,” Blood Riot says.
Katsuki takes a large, deep breath, “We fight. And if I win, you will leave and kill no more, Blood Riot.”
“One condition,” Blood Riot smiles.
“What?” Katsuki growls.
“Call me Eijirou first,” the man says as his smile grows to show off the knives in his mouth.
Hanta splutters. A flush creeps across Katsuki’s whole body. How is this man so attractive?
He looks at Katsuki with amusement, patiently waiting.
“E-Eijirou, I-I…” Katsuki starts.
“Say Eijirou again,” the man whispers. His lips are a breath away from Katsuki’s.
“Eijirou,” Katsuki murmurs, eyes trained on those lips. Something nudges his leg and he breaks out of the reverie, blinking fast he quickly says, “Eijirou, we will fight.”
Blood Riot… no, Eijirou, looks disappointed but nods.
“We will keep it simple. There will be a circle, whoever crosses its boundary first, loses,” he says.
Katsuki nods, “That is fair.”
“Oh,” Eijirou smirks. “And when I win –”
“IF, if you win,” Katsuki growls.
The man laughs, “When I win, I will make my ask of you.”
Mina and Hanta protest by his side. They say he is wounded and exhausted. It will not be a fair fight. Katsuki ignores them. Eijirou has set conditions that give him a chance. The man has made this fight fair.
Eijirou unties his bonds himself. Katsuki tries to not think of how big the man’s hands are. How easily they circle his throat and how gently they hold him. This is his enemy.
Eijirou asks the scarred man, “Shouto”, to draw a circle in the cave. The man produces chalk out of nowhere and outlines a new battlefield, this one littered with pools and uneven but solid ground. Eijirou looks a lot more comfortable being out of the sand but Katsuki knows this cave. No matter his wounds or the state of his tattered heart, he still believes in himself.
He cautiously watches as Shouto drops down beside Hanta and the wounded man, Denki, settles next to Mina, whining to her about his leg.
“Eyes on me, angel,” Eijirou teases. “Don’t worry about your servants, you have my word they will be safe.”
Katsuki huffs but shifts his weight on his good leg. He just needs to imbalance Eijirou, maybe make him trip over one of the pools and this will be over.
Eijirou grins at him and drops his loincloth.
Katsuki goes completely still. He cannot understand what he is seeing. He… he understands but he cannot… it’s… it’s Eijirou’s cock. Katsuki blinks rapidly to be certain it is real. It is a monster, large and fat and as thick as his wrist. The tan shaft morphs into a deep red mushroom head, already leaking in excitement.
He jerks his body back as the cock moves closer to him. He can start making out details now, like the bulky vein that throbs on the underside of the shaft or the way Eijirou’s cock curves a little to the left. It sways as it moves closer, exposing heavy balls, drooping under their own weight, somehow appearing eager for release.
Strong hands slide under his arms and lift him gently. His eyes are still on that cock, wondering how it can be so… inhuman and bewitching at the same time.
“Katsuki, I win,” Eijirou whispers in his ear. Katsuki gasps and shoves him away. His hands cover his eyes as he forces deep, even breaths to clear his mind.
“T-that was cheating!” Katsuki says in a disbelieving voice.
“The rules were pretty clear,” Eijirou laughs, “and what kind of man would I be if I hurt one so beautiful when he was already down?”
Katsuki peeks out an eye from between his fingers to glare at the man. He only laughs harder. Katsuki grumbles and looks at Hanta and Mina, expecting to find disappointment. Instead, they both are laughing and somehow look at ease even amongst their captors.
He’s relieved to find that Eijirou has dressed again. He cannot believe he lost in such a humiliating manner but the truth is he lost. He faces the man with determination.
“Fine, Blood Riot –” Eijirou’s raised eyebrow makes him reconsider, “...Eijirou, you have won. What will you have?”
Eijirou snakes a hand around his waist, leans down, and brushes their noses together, “I will have you, King Katsuki.”
Eijirou frowns at the burning bodies but does not interrupt. He is intimately familiar with death; all tribes have their own ways of preparing the earthly body for an exit from this world. But why those that live in Agni would create more heat is not something he can understand.
He tilts his head to look at the grim blonde by his side. He had expected Katsuki to be furious with him for how many of ‘his people’ he had killed. But his angel is oddly subdued. Rather than be mad at Blood Riot for acting like… Blood Riot, he is grieving the avoidable deaths.
Eijirou realizes he has made many presumptions about Katsuki. When he asked the man to be his, Katsuki had been completely taken aback and horrified and shy and wanting. Seeing those emotions flicker across his face only made Eijirou want him more. He did not want some emotionless doll. Katsuki’s ability to feel so deeply was one to be cherished.
“There is nothing to agree to,” Katsuki had said. “I may feel fury at my loss but I did lose. I am yours.”
His companions, Hanta and Mina as Eijirou has learned, admitted they thought he had accepted a little too easily but were wise enough to not say more. They understood wherever Eijirou took Katsuki, they would be allowed to follow.
He has not missed how Shouto seems oddly taken by Hanta either. It is good that his friend had found someone who could make him laugh. Though with Shouto’s display of laughter, which is just a slight smile, Eijirou is not sure Hanta knows what he has achieved.
The woman – she has more spirit than Eijirou would have expected. She had slapped Denki when he tried to take off the bandage she had wrapped around his leg. And if he was not mistaken, she has already spent nights in his brother’s tent too.
The two refused to participate in the funeral so Eijirou’s family was pestering them about the hot water pools and the underground waterfall Mina had boasted of. It must be a good distraction. He glances at Katsuki’s grim face, wishing he could do more for it too.
As with the previous two nights, he follows Katsuki to his tent once the dense clouds of black smoke evaporate under the shimmering sun.
He watches with amusement as Katuski violently yanks his belt off. It’s not an indication of his mood, Eijirou has learned, the man simply puts a lot of passion into all he does. Eijirou settles by Katsuki’s bed and waits until the man tires of pacing around the tent. When he dramatically falls on his bed with a tired huff, Eijirou says, “They do not respect you.”
Katsuki lifts his head, “They have never in the past. Why would they now that I have failed them?”
“Failed them?” Eijirou asks incredulously, “I watch how you spend hours after hours piecing back together a kingdom that betrayed you. I would burn them all to the ground for what they have done to you.”
“You will not!” Katsuki leaps up, sitting on his haunches like an angry cat.
“I have not,” Eijirou sighs. If only his angel knew the power he held over Eijirou. There is little he would not do for him.
“You will take me from here,” Katsuki says softly. “I have to leave enough behind that they do not collapse. They have suffered greatly.”
“So have you, angel,” Eijirou touches the edge of the bed, stilling when Katsuki retreats into himself.
“You are sweet, Katsuki,” he says as the man’s eyes snap to him in shock, “sweet and intelligent and give so much of yourself even to those who have hurt you. I wonder what triumphs you will win when you are not held down.”
Katsuki looks at him helplessly, his whole body flushed. Eijirou has also learned Katsuki likes praise. He thinks it is because the man never received any. It’s no matter to him, he could spend an eternity waxing the beauty and virtues of King Katsuki.
“You know I will stand by your side if revenge is what you want,” Eijirou adds.
Katsuki fists the sheets in front of him, “The Elders are already dead. As are the soldiers who left me to die. There is no cause for me to hold others responsible. We will leave and this will be the past.”
“And coming with me, that is something you want too?” Eijirou asks with some hesitation. Bleeding a man is not something he would think twice of. He can give others death but he will not take their choices while they live.
“I am yours,” Katsuki growls. His eyes burn with something Eijirou cannot yet identify.
He knows better than to question Katsuki more. He stands and nods at the man, “Then that is that. Good night, Katsuki.”
Something close to disappointment flashes on Katsuki’s face but it is gone too soon for Eijirou to be certain.
He spends the late night in the hot pools his family has discovered. Hearty, gleeful laughter shakes the cave as they drink mead and laugh over how easy this ‘war’ was. Eijirou shakes his head but lets them have their fun.
On a normal occasion, he would be laughing along with them but his heart is full of visions of Katsuki and his bed. There is nothing more he wants than to truly make the man his but he can tell his angel is not ready. He flinches every moment Eijirou comes too close.
Eijirou drops his head against the rock he is resting on and sighs loudly. A large hand slaps him on the shoulder. With an annoyed grunt, Eijirou moves to make room for his drunk brother.
“Why are you not jolly, Eijirou?” Tetsutetsu says. Then burps. Then gives his head a shake. Then looks at Eijirou with a wide, knowing smile, “Have you not found exactly what pulled you here?”
Eijirou chuckles, “Shut up, brother of mine. Looks like we all conquered more than land this time.” He nods at the far corner where Shouto is submerged in a pool with a blushing Hanta opposite him. His eyes search for Mina in the flickering lamps and freeze when they find Kyouka in her arms.
Tetsutetsu guffaws beside him, “Do not look so scandalized. Denki is the first one she tried amongst us. I’m hoping she likes me best though.” He winks at Eijirou.
Eijirou rolls his eyes and takes a large swig from the waterskin he snatches from his brother’s hand. They sit side by side, watching their family with fond eyes.
“You know,” Tetsutetsu begins, “we all have a bet going.”
Eijirou raises an eyebrow at him.
“Even Mina and Hanta are involved. And… well, either you and Katsuki are very quiet or you are yet to share his bed.”
“My lovers are never quiet, Tetsu.” Eijirou frowns, feeling offended.
“So then I have lost my bet. I was sure you would have him the first night.” Tetsutetsu waggles his eyebrows.
“Everything takes its time. I am sorry I lost you gold though.” Eijirou glances at him, bemused.
The man punches his shoulder. Then he seems to remember something, sobering up all of a sudden.
“Eijirou,” he asks with surprising seriousness.
“Brother?” Eijirou responds.
“Katsuki is a Kirishima, isn’t he?” Tetsutetsu asks with pressed lips.
Eijirou looks at him carefully, “I do not think we will ever know for sure. Does it matter?”
“He looks more like a Kirishima than me,” Tetsutetsu says bitterly.
Eijirou grabs Tetsutetsu’s necklaces and yanks him close, “No one, no one, is more of a Kirishima than you, my brother!”
Tetsutetsu yanks him back with just as much force. The two stay locked in a tight embrace.
Katsuki paces around his bed, pulling at the leather straps around his hands. It has been days! Every evening that terror comes into Katsuki’s tent, flirts with him, praises him, and then fucking leaves. Katsuki is not sure how much more he can take.
And he never wears any clothes! Now that he has seen it, it is impossible to not notice Eijirou’s cock. Even flaccid, Katsuki can see its outline under Eijirou’s loincloth. Thick and rough black hair starts below his navel and disappears into the cloth. There is a scar on the man’s upper thigh that Katsuki wants to kiss. God, he is so gone for this man that he even wants to brush his wild hair and braid it.
“You are aware you can ask him to stay, right?” Hanta asks with an amused smile.
“GET OUT!” Katsuki roars.
Hanta holds up his hands in mock defeat and goes back to fixing the tear in Katsuki’s salwar. Katsuki turns away from him in a huff. What does he know? He has had normal relationships. Katsuki does not know how to flirt! Seduction was not part of his training.
Why should he have to seduce anyway? Eijirou said he is his. Should he not be taking what is his? What kind of man is he!?
He hears a snicker behind him. If Hanta gives him another knowing look, he’s going to cut off his insufferably large head!
“I’m done mending, do you need anything?” Hanta asks with a smirk.
“Fuck off.” Katsuki scowls. Hanta laughs and leaves. The man has become a lot less formal with Katsuki and it’s nice. It’s as if they can be friends for real.
Katsuki falls face-first into his bed. He cannot stop thinking of Eijirou’s large hands and how good they would feel on his body. His breath escapes in heated puffs. His hips lift into the air and make little circles as he imagines Eijirou’s hands around his waist, his body pressing against him.
He hears a stuttered gasp behind him, “Oh-h.”
Katsuki grabs the dagger hidden under his bed and whirls on his back… to find Eijirou staring at him in dumb shock.
“W-what the fuck are y-you doing here?” Katsuki stutters.
“Hanta said you wished to see me,” Eijirou says dumbly, still staring at Katsuki’s crotch. Katsuki grabs a cushion and covers his lower half.
The two stare at one another in tense silence. Katsuki refuses to be the first to speak.
“Is there something you needed, Katsuki?” Eijirou asks. His chest shines in the flickering light of the candles. Katsuki wonders if he oils it. His eyes trace down the solid abs he can see to the obvious arousal Eijirou is in.
“Is there something you wish to give me?” Katsuki scowls.
“I wish to give you the world, Katsuki.” Eijirou smiles, “I will bleed whoever you want bled. I will set the world afire if you wish. All you have to do is ask.”
Katsuki tries to ignore the shiver that runs through him. He glares at the large man, “You said I am yours.”
Eijirou raises an eyebrow and nods at him.
“Then why have you not had me?” Katsuki demands.
“Angel… I was not aware that is something you wanted,” Eijirou says.
“I did not say I want you,” Katsuki insists, “I am not desperate. It is just that you won me so you should take me properly.”
Eijirou’s face flickers with irritation. “Only a coward takes a man who does not want him. If you want me, you have to say it, Katsuki.”
Katsuki folds his arms and looks away from him. He knows he is being childish but this is not an emotion he understands. Eijirou is being needlessly dense.
“Then I guess you came here for nothing,” Katsuki huffs.
An angry growl reverberates through the tent. His eyes pop open in shock as a massive hand squeezes his cheeks, pushing his lips out. Eijirou’s mouth is on his. Katsuki gasps into the kiss. He tries to kiss back but before he can, Eijirou shoves him down.
His mountain-like body hovers over Katsuki’s lithe form. His raging red eyes are colored with fury and arousal. Katsuki’s lips part and so do his legs.
“Katsuki,” Eijirou warns, “I will do nothing more unless you are honest with me.”
Katsuki whimpers at the husky, dark tone Eijirou’s voice has taken. The man has always been sweet around Katsuki. This heavy, dangerous side has him panting with need.
“I-I-I want you, Eijirou!” he moans, reaching up to grab the harness wrapped around Eijirou’s big chest. Katsuki yanks him down and kisses him again. He pushes his tongue into Eijirou’s mouth, licking those sharp teeth. When Eijirou’s tongue touches his, he lets his mouth go slack so the man can do what he wants.
He can feel Eijirou’s fat cock rub his salwar. It ignites a new kind of fire in Katsuki, one that will only be put out when Eijirou is in him.
He pulls his mouth free of Eijirou and claws at his chest, “I’m burning, Ei-jirou, I’m burning!”
Eijirou pushes his top up, big hands cupping Katsuki’s exposed chest. Rough fingers rub over his nipples. Katsuki’s eyelids flutter uselessly as pleasure sparks through his body. He is not sure he will survive this.
“I’ll make it stop, my angel,” Eijirou promises as he leans down to lick at the raised skin of the wound he gave his lover. Katsuki wraps his hands in Eijirou’s wild mane and uses it to pull him even closer. Needy whimpers escape him as Eijirou wraps his mouth around his nipple and sucks hard. Fingers twist and pull his other nipple making him feel as if he’s an animal in heat.
Eijirou pulls off his nipple and stares down at Katsuki. His eyes are clouded with dark desire, with only rings of red left in his black eyes. Deep, hungry exhales escape his mouth, warm breath fanning over Katsuki’s face.
“The things,” Eijirou takes a shuddering breath, “I am going to do to you.”
Katsuki gulps and nods.
A small yelp escapes him as Eijirou flips him over and yanks down his salwar. Eijirou’s massive hand pins him down as he takes in his body. Katsuki feels shy but there is nowhere to hide.
“You are pretty everywhere, aren’t you angel?” Eijirou murmurs as his finger slides down Katsuki’s twitching cock. Katsuki whines at that. He loves it when Eijirou tells him how pretty he is. No one has talked to him like this. No one has wanted him like this.
The drawn-out whine turns to a scream when Eijirou’s mouth kisses his rim. He arches his back and shoves his ass up, desperate for Eijirou. The man lets go of his back to hold his cheeks open as his tongue forces its way in. He’s messy and loud as he eats Katsuki out, growls escaping him and vibrating through Katsuki’s hole. He’s pressed so close to Katsuki that he can feel his razor-sharp teeth prick at his rim.
He stops right before Katsuki cums as if he had a premonition for when it would happen. Katsuki is already reduced to tears, heart palpitating wildly and legs shaking uselessly. He can feel Eijirou’s satisfaction with his state.
All he can do is spread his legs more when Eijirou’s fingers begin prodding at his quivering hole, wet with the oil Katsuki keeps by his bed. They’re quick and efficient, stretching him out with just a hint of pleasurable pain. Still, they are larger than anything Katsuki has felt before and he is grateful for the little circles Eijirou draws on his inner thigh as he pushes his third finger in.
Everything is in a haze, Katsuki is too far gone to even notice he’s fucking back on Eijirou’s spreading fingers. He needs something bigger, he needs that cock.
Again, it is as if Eijirou heard him because he takes his fingers out with lewd squelch. Katsuki’s hole flutters with aching emptiness. Eijirou purrs in approval when Katsuki takes a deep breath and tries to relax his body for what comes next.
His cock is burning hot when it presses against Katsuki’s hole. They moan in unison when the cockhead pops in. Katsuki is embarrassed at how his hole suckles at it, trying to pull it in deeper but it’s worth it to hear Eijirou curse in pleasure.
To Katsuki’s frustration, he goes slow, giving his body time to adjust to the thick length entering him. By the time his hips snap into Katsuki’s, that fire has spread through all of Katsuki.
He whimpers in confusion when nothing happens for the next few minutes. He’s ready for more! He lifts his head as much as he can under Eijirou’s firm grip and turns his blushing, wrecked face to look at Eijirou.
The man grins dangerously at him and pushes Katsuki down again. Katsuki’s hole hugs his cock desperately at the sudden movement.
Eijirou's hand slides up to Katsuki’s neck and squeezes it gently. Katsuki’s whole body shudders with need.
The man bites Katsuki’s ear and says, “Beg me, Katsuki.”
Katsuki shakes his head at that. Eijirou growls and tightens his grip. “Beg. Me.”
He pulls his cock out and slams it back in. Immeasurable, unimaginable pleasure burns Katsuki hotter than ever before. He would do anything to feel more of it.
“Ei-Ei-jirou-ou, more, more, more!” he pleads, his voice high-pitched and desperate.
“Good boy,” Eijirou rumbles.
The whole bed vibrates with the force of Eijirou’s next thrust. Katsuki’s hands fist into the sheets as Eijirou begins to fuck him as if they will never touch again. It hurts so good, his hole caving in as the cock pulls out and opening back up when it jerks back into him.
Little ‘ ah, ah, ah ’s escape Katsuki as Eijirou’s heavy balls smack into his much smaller ones. He was wrong. Eijirou is a god. There is no power on earth that could make Katsuki feel the pleasure coursing through his blood.
Eijirou’s hands grip his waist, lifting his lower body off the bed and pulling it down on his cock. The change in position has his cock slam into Katsuki’s prostate with every thrust. He could not have stopped the screams if he tried.
“That’s my angel,” Eijirou moans, slamming into him ever faster.
The louder Katsuki screams, the rougher Eijirou gets. He is sure they have woken the entire clan by now but he could not care less. Not when he is feeling so good.
His vision whitens and the world goes blank as an orgasm is ripped from him. His body thrashes and his hole squeezes around Eijirou as he ruins the sheets with his cum. Eijirou lowers his legs to the bed, snaking one hand around his waist and the other around his cock to work him through his orgasm.
When he’s done, Katsuki whimpers pathetically, twitching away from Eijirou’s hand. The man takes his hand away, peppering Katsuki’s back with kisses. He licks Katsuki’s ear and whispers into it, “Can you take a little more?”
Katsuki whines but nods. He wants Eijirou to feel good too.
His head rolls at the deep, languid thrusts Eijirou takes into his body. His hole spasms and clenches around Eijirou’s cock, so sensitive but still so wanting. Eijirou pushes deep, deep into his guts when he finally cums.
Katsuki cannot describe how it feels to be full of Eijirou like this. He feels… complete, like he is wanted for the first time in his life. It does not help that Eijirou notices his tears and tilts his head up to kiss him through them.
He does not recall falling asleep but when he wakes, he is in Eijirou’s arms. It is the best sleep of his life. The orange glow of the morning sun shines on Eijirou’s face. Katsuki stares at him in wonder. He has never met a man like him. His people love him so much and he loves them back. He kills and makes the world bleed but he brings joy and life to those close to him. He makes it so easy to submit. Katsuki’s hand strokes down Eijirou’s face, stopping to caress the scar on his eye. He is so beautiful.
Katsuki’s thumb is stroking over Eijirou’s lips when they quirk up into a smile. Katsuki yanks his hand back. Eijirou’s amused eyes glint down at him. Katsuki huffs and buries his face in Eijirou’s chest.
“You may admit you find me handsome, Katsuki,” Eijirou teases.
“It is not that simple,” Katsuki argues into his chest. “I am not that shallow. Yes, you are handsome. But I have seen how you lead your people and wield your power. That is what attracts me to you.”
“Oh,” Eijirou says, making Katsuki snicker.
“Yeah, oh,” he mocks.
There is a moment of content quiet between them, Eijirou strokes his back and cups his ass, his thumb kneading Katsuki's rim. Katsuki kisses his chest and nuzzles it.
Katsuki takes a chance to bear his heart, “There is… more,”
He waits until Eijirou pulls him higher so their eyes can meet. “You… you see me. You saw my rage and my hurt… you even saw my failures. And somehow you looked beyond them and found who I really am instead. You did not cower or feel disgusted. Instead, you wanted me. It… it confuses me, Eijirou.”
Eijirou responds by pulling Katsuki into a deep, desperate kiss. It says more than words ever could. It says how he adores Katsuki… maybe even loves him. It says from the moment their eyes met, they were meant for one another.
They spend the morning making love, shutting out the world and their responsibilities for just a day.
Eijirou leaves him hours later to bathe. Katsuki gingerly makes his way out of bed, noticing the twinge in his lower back and realizing he loves the pain of it. For once, he leaves his leather straps be, only donning his top and salwar. He wraps his scarf loosely over his head and makes his way to where breakfast is being served. He tries not to blush when several knowing eyes glance his way.
Hanta and Mina sit amongst Eijirou’s people, laughing and talking with them as if they are one. Katsuki takes a deep breath, feeling a kind of lightness in his heart that has never been there. He eats breakfast alone, trying to make sense of his thoughts. By the time he has also bathed and done a round of the tribe to make sure there are no emergencies, he feels tired.
Agni’s sand grates his skin, the sun burns his body. He is tired of it.
He finds Hanta and asks him where Eijirou is. The man gives him a curious look and points to the makeshift war tent. Katsuki hesitates. Eijirou is his future and he wants him to warm his bed but… Katsuki wants so much more.
Hanta nudges his shoulder playfully. Right. He is still a king. At least to one person. He takes a deep breath and makes his way to the tent, hardening his heart to rejection.
When he enters, all eyes turn to him but… no one looks surprised to see him. There are no jeers, no taunts, no knives pointed his way. There is only Eijirou’s blinding smile and an open seat next to him for Katsuki to take.