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Along the outskirts of Inazuma City's borders are the less fortunate districts, home to an equally less fortunate class of criminals, estranged sons, despondent poets, sexual deviants, and the descendants of all those who could have them.
It was adjacent to the red-light district: a colorful collection of shops and services—and the center of courtesans, fashion, and enough money to decorate itself.
But this was where the drunkards were dragged to, where the street sellers crawled back to during the day, and where the caste divide created a peeling facade, behind which the bodies of a ostracized class were dumped and rotted.
By the time Kaedehara Kazuha and his friend had reached the city, it was evening. As samurai, he would have been required to leave his weapons by the gates of the red-light district, which resulted in the decision to go to the neighboring city instead. It was hardly the most trustworthy place, and perhaps even more frowned upon to visit as a samurai, but the two men needed only a night to stay before reaching the countryside.
In honor of setting an honest impression, the city presented him with the following sight:
A congregation of rubberneckers was forming in an intersection ahead of them. Although, whatever was happening did not seem to capture the attention of everyone on the street, for just as many people seemed to avert their eyes and navigate through the crowd. This pointed to the fact that it was a regular enough occurrence to be ignored by those with something better to do.
Kazuha saw the glint of a pointed katana edge as it rose from above the heads of the crowd. Coupled by the fearful silence of the onlookers, he could tell it was an execution.
Because of the city's reputation, it wasn't a surprise to him that the Shogunate was heavy-handed with displaying their authority. Almost everyone in the crowd had reason to be arrested, and yet, everyone watched because there was a natural sadistic inclination to see it unfold: to watch a man, who had defied the system no more than they had, be put to his knees, then imagine if it was them.
The better kind turn away before it happened, but for as much as anyone tried to avoid it, they could still hear the sound: the brief collision of steel and flesh, the dull thud of a man's head as it hit the ground, like nothing more than a bag of rice. If heard for the first time, it sounded identical to someone tripping and hitting the ground, but once placed in its context, it became impossible to hear anything else but the death.
Tomo put a hand on his shoulder.
"We should probably go before they start to disperse the crowd," he said.
But Kazuha took a moment to pray for the man. His prayer was not a literal one, recognized by any religion, but an acknowledgement of the violence. More often than not, those who turned away did so because they were offered the convenience to—but not him. If Kazuha wanted to wield his blade as he did, he could not afford a moment where he could be ignorant to the violence it was capable of.
These were soldiers, who chose to do what they did, and the existence of their corrupt Shogunate did not vindicate them of personal responsibility.
Therefore, Kazuha told himself, remember this man—and remember the cruelty he faced.
In the end, Kazuha was among the last to take his eyes off the body.
It was Tomo, threatened by the sharp stare of the antagonizing soldier that killed him, who pulled him away by the arm.
Among the last, that is, for when Kazuha finally raised his gaze, his eyes became fixed on another man across the opposite side of the clearing—in a tall, castle-like building whose multiple stories stood out among the older yet thatched houses.
He saw only his face, framed by the open window. He was a young, accessorized man, who carried a detached serenity, and there was about as much distance between them in status as their physical distance implied. Although Kazuha fixed his eyes upon him for a long, treasured moment, he could not guess the expression on his face—and, most likely, there was none at all.
It was a long way from Kazuha's ritualized empathy, but a cold, morbid fascination with the idea of death.
There was a moment before the man's eyes flickered up from the corpse to Kazuha.
The only thing more horrifying than a man who was indifferent in the face of death was whatever he saw fascinating in Kazuha—enough so to see him and, with an uncanny seduction, smile.
Kazuha's heart, most naturally, skipped a beat.
"Focus on finding a place to sleep, Kaz," Tomo said into his ear.
"Here, then."
Tomo called it a bad habit of his, but Kazuha referred to it as a natural symptom of his unfettered curiosity of the world: Kazuha wandered off in a beeline towards the building he had seen the man.
"What, you see a girl you like?" Tomo asked jokingly. "You're not usually the type to have a preference."
Kazuha made it across the intersection with the brevity of a man whose attention was held captive. "Something of the sort."
It was a quiet establishment with an almost exclusively well-dressed clientele. Kazuha couldn't help but imagine how much him and his partner stood out. Kazuha made his way through the building with purpose until he found the man, descending the steps leading to the second floor.
"The samurai…" the man noted about his arrival.
Kazuha went right to addressing him. "I'm not from around here—"
"I can see that."
"—but I wanted to introduce myself. I am Kaedehara Kazuha, a traveling samurai, and this is my companion."
Tomo tossed a wave from behind him, though he wanted to let Kazuha take the lead. "How much is this place a night?" he asked.
The man huffed. He passed Tomo only a cursory glance before addressing solely Kazuha once more, saying, "Unfortunately for your friend, this isn't that kind of establishment. It's the house of a Kabuki theater troupe. I'm one of their actors."
It piqued Kazuha's curiosity. He hadn't seen many people about, but he supposed that time of day was about when most actors would be performing.
"Kabuki, huh?" Tomo added. "You do make a pretty convincing woman."
Their host's eye twitched, but he suppressed any visible evidence to having heard what the man said. Electing to ignore him, he continued:
"We don't usually take visitors, but…" He stared down at Kazuha from his place halfway up the stairs, where he stopped as soon as the men approached. "I don't usually get samurai looking for me personally, either."
The man, Kunikuzushi, as Kazuha soon learned, took the two of them up to a room on the second floor sequestered from the foot traffic of the rest of the building.
"Tea? Or would you prefer to get started with sake?" Kunikuzushi offered as soon as they seated themselves. Tomo made no disguise out of gawking at the room around them, which appeared increasingly opulent the longer Kazuha let himself stare. The location disguised its luxury well enough, but the sudden vanity rivaled even the red-light district's more affluent businesses.
"Tea, please."
Kunikuzushi hummed in confirmation, then went to work serving his guests. His movements were experienced, and despite his claims to not take visitors, he seemed prepared to welcome them nonetheless.
"It's an imported blend. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all."
"Imported, huh?" Tomo commented, rubbing his chin and looking Kunikuzushi over. "Must have cost you a pretty penny. Say, is that kimono imported, too?"
His amicable facade seemed to flicker for a moment, as if annoyed that it was Tomo who had addressed him and not Kazuha. "Do you sell goods, sir? You seem to have an eye for quality. Yes, but just the pattern. We have a partner that manufactures silk in Liyue, whose products we're importing to Inazuma City."
"Silk suits you well," Kazuha was quick to compliment him.
It seemed to placate Kunikuzushi after Tomo's inquiry. "Thank you. I likely have more in your size, if you're interested."
Tomo looked at Kazuha hopefully.
"It's alright, you've shown us enough hospitality already."
And Tomo promptly pouted.
By the time the tea was ready, Kunikuzushi poured it out into cups for them. He was graceful in every little ritual, and the two men couldn't help but stare as Kunikuzushi pulled his sleeve back to reveal pale, dainty wrists.
Their host, of course, was not so ignorant as to have missed the way they both searched for what skin they could find on him.
"Do you read, Kaedehara-san?" Kunikuzushi asked him. He clocked the fact that between the two of them, only Kazuha likely had the opportunity of a samurai upbringing to have learned how to read.
"When my travels permit, yes," he answered. "I muse more than I read these days."
Kunikuzushi's voice pitched in sudden interest. "You write?"
"I compose." Then, after a moment, he added, "Written in the analogs of my thoughts, of course."
"Do you know the great poet Akahito?"
Kazuha nodded. "I would say he is my greatest inspiration. Not only by subject matter, but his wordplay, as well."
Kunikuzushi hummed, satisfied by being correct. But he was also increasingly invested in conversation with someone cultured for once. "You do seem the type. Your name is the same kind of wordplay he is famous for, is it not? Kazuha: Ten thousand leaves, ten thousand words. I assume that is how it is written, at least."
Kazuha smiled. "You would be correct. My father manifested the type of person I would become by invoking him in naming me."
"That's beautiful," Kunikuzushi answered, and despite his appearances, the comment seemed earnest.
Kazuha stared down at his cup, trapped by a sudden thought. "Even this moment inspires a verse: As I gently kiss the water's rippled surface, I become the petal that has settled on it. Thank you for the tea."
"Of course. Real artists like you are far and few these days, considering this climate." Kunikuzushi brought his own cup to his lips, and the two others found even the way he blew on his tea to be captivating. "Allow me to add my own line: Even still waters are decorated with the blossoms of each seasons' bloom. May I interest you in some wine, now? There's a bottle I imagine the two of you would find interesting."
As the two of them exchanged lines of poetry, they watched each other carefully. They were so fixated that not even as they raised their cups to drink would they take their eyes off from the other, instead peering over the rim of their cup to insist their attention not be pulled away.
"I have another idea," Kunikuzushi suddenly proclaimed. He stood, and for a moment the two other men could only watch as he collected a box from one of the displays before making his way around the table.
Even the way he moved across the tatami, as if floating along its surface, demanded attention. It was at that moment Kazuha was sure he was some kind of apparition, who would call him to the haunted lake's edge before drowning him beneath its surface. And even as Kazuha knew this, he was sure he'd dive in at his command.
Kunikuzushi took his seat on the table in front of Kazuha. He laid the box in his lap as he opened it, its contents hidden from Kazuha's view, and pulled aside the outer fold of his kimono to uncover his left leg.
When Kunikuzushi extended a sleeved foot to Kazuha's chest, he paused for permission before going further. Kazuha, ignorant to the fact the man expected a response, only waited expectantly for him to continue, and Kunikuzushi took it as a sign to proceed.
He dragged the tip of his foot down Kazuha's sternum, widening the opening of his kimono and making sure to tease his skin with the hint of his touch. His foot only settled at Kazuha's obi, where it would remain even as Kunikuzushi raised his hands from the box and revealed an inkwell and small calligraphy brush.
It was an imported set, naturally, and Kunikuzushi drew himself close to Kazuha as he began to write on the open canvas of his chest:
Wind parting wisteria leaves.
"Open his kimono for me," Kunikuzushi instructed Kazuha—to Tomo's disappointment (he had expected similar foot treatment).
Kazuha obeyed, and Kunikuzushi quickly began to write another line down his chest:
Lightning splits the bark in two.
"Eh? What's it say?" Tomo looked at Kazuha. "I can only read a couple of these characters…"
Kunikuzushi looked at Kazuha with a smug curve to his lips. "Would you mind reciting it for him?"
Kazuha raised a hand to trace each character as he explained them. "This refers to a flash of lightning." He moved to the next. "… And this the act of chopping firewood, which… well, is also a euphemism that a famous poet uses to describe penetrative sex within a letter to his secret mistress. The character for cut invokes the sound of wood splitting, and creates a… less than gentle image of his suggestions to her."
He turned to Kunikuzushi, who was soaking up Kazuha's commentary with pride.
He continued, "But this dichotomy suggests that the wind is more gentle, which I wouldn't say I agree with. Do you mind?" He extended an open palm towards the hand of Kunikuzushi's that held the calligraphy brush.
Kunikuzushi conceded and placed it in his palm. Kazuha briefly looked around for something to write on, but Kunikuzushi was quick to grab his attention as he opened up his own kimono for him.
Kazuha inched closer to him to begin writing, but hesitated as he looked down at the canvas he was given. Kunikuzushi was rather small, and Kazuha was even more verbose.
"Do you need more space?" Kunikuzushi asked, more hushed due to their proximity.
Kazuha opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then finally found the words and said, "Yes. Just a little."
Like a curtain, Kunikuzushi pulled his kimono apart even further. The two men watched as the layers of fabric peeled away until finally resting just at the peaks of the man's breasts.
"Damn," Tomo caught himself saying just before he could dramatically slap a hand over his own mouth. Kazuha's got play… he thought, and his surprise from Kazuha's charm superseded that of Kunikuzushi's anatomy.
"Is there a problem?" Kunikuzushi asked, and Tomo realized it was him that the man was looking at.
Tomo threw up his hands. "Not at all."
Kunikuzushi opened his legs for Kazuha to place himself between, and Kazuha found his free hand finding repose by the man's thigh. By the time he finished writing, he had retrieved himself from his artistic trace, and pulled his hand away as if it were touching hot coals. Kunikuzushi hadn't minded though, and he was equally entranced by the poetry Kazuha had been writing.
"The wind does not anger when it rips the tree from the earth," he recited for the other two, though he made an obvious attempt to avert his eyes from Kunikuzushi's bare chest.
Kunikuzushi hummed as he contemplated it. "It is an unfeeling force."
"I like to say it is unbiased before it is unfeeling. It is not entirely an anthropomorphism to describe the wind as feeling. Feeling is as complex as a subjective experience by a cognizant party, but also as simple as a reaction. In one sense, the wind feels in the way it shifts based on the land's topography."
Kunikuzushi wouldn't have said he agreed, as he was in great favor of the distinction of human consciousness and generally regarded humans as superiority because of it, whereas Kazuha there was hardly any difference in anything when one began to reduce them to more basic principles.
He explained:
"The wind is not angry, nor is it necessarily calm, for it is a mere fact of its objective behavior that it cannot reflect either way when it happens. It carries a capacity to be gentle or violent by an unbiased method of natural phenomenon, but that does not mean it is cruel or any less unpredictable, either. It is a manifestation of its surroundings, and responds based on the changes around it. A more romantic interpretation of the wind, which I choose to believe, would be that it answers to the mood of its surroundings."
Kunikuzushi couldn't help the chuckle that slipped from his lips. "I assume you'll tell me next that the lightning has a gentle side too." He glanced at Tomo, not that the man recognized what it meant.
It was when Kazuha looked at him with a smile that Tomo finally realized he was being discussed.
Kazuha answered, "No, I would have to agree with your description. It is rather intense—and quite boisterous, indeed… but in a truly awe-inspiring way that demands your admiration. I do not think it is a bad thing to be seized by him."
Tomo clapped his hands on his knees. The attention was increasingly tense, as though the two other men were analyzing him for consumption.
"Ah, as much as I'd like to stay, I think I ought to find somewhere to stay for the night, but you—" He clapped Kazuha's shoulder. "You stay and keep our friend company a little longer, right?"
"Really?" Kazuha asked, his brows furrowed with pity. "Will you be alright? We don't have to drink, if that is your concern."
Tomo shook his head, then stood to leave. "No, no, I just don't want to get in the way between you two intellectuals…"
Kunikuzushi frowned. He had been silent up to that point (and Kazuha had even thought the man would have preferred Tomo to leave), but was seemingly inspired at his last comment to speak: "You don't think I can handle two men at once?"
Tomo and Kazuha paused, caught off-guard by the man's forwardness. They looked at each other as if to confirm what they had heard, and even waited for Kunikuzushi to clarify himself, which he never did.
"Sit down," Kunikuzushi ordered him.
Tomo sat down rather obediently.
Without another word, Kunikuzushi went to prepare a bottle of wine for the three of them.
They drank their first cup in an awkward silence, which was a symptom of the failed attempt to continue where the conversation had left off.
"How close are you two?" Kunikuzushi asked, sipping at his wine. "I've always been deeply fascinated by the dynamics of male friendships. Even within romance as the more progressive contemporaries define it, there is a degree of separation created by a difference in gender. But for you two to be traveling together, you must be kindred spirits, no?"
Kazuha glanced at Tomo with a fondness that he hardly had interest to hide. "I would say we are close, yes."
Kunikuzushi, for the first time that night, looked at Tomo properly with the intent to listen to his answer.
"Oh, yeah. We're the best of buds." Tomo laughed, recalling a memory he couldn't recount aloud. "Many drunken nights spent with this guy, here. Traveling has always been a lonely thing, and you sacrifice a lot of relationships to always be moving around so much."
"Makes us a lot more dependent on each other that way," Kazuha concurred.
"I can imagine," Kunikuzushi said with a hint of sarcasm that only Kazuha picked up on, though he didn't mention it. Then, addressing Tomo once more, he asked, "Your friend has proved himself a poet, and proximity to him implies you are one, too, but I find it necessary to ask anyway: Are you a romantic, too, sir?"
Tomo laughed. "Well, he's the more literate of us two, but I'd say I'm more tuned into that sort of thing than the average guy. Why do you ask?"
Kunikuzushi set his cup down, which signaled to the other two that he had something lengthy to say. "The poet is an inherently expressive creature. More often than not, it is an artist that paves the conversation of man's more suppressed desires. That is to say, I am asking how intimate you are with each other."
"How close we are?" Tomo asked, more hesitant to believe the implication of what Kunikuzushi was saying.
"I suppose… How physically close you have been with each other before." Kunikuzushi couldn't hide the humor he found in Tomo's voluntary ignorance, and a playful smile crept across his face.
Tomo was much more open to discuss his sex life, which Kunikuzushi intuitively guessed and addressed him as a result. Though, albeit more of a womanizer between the two, he did not express interest in buying sex, and often blamed his apparent lack of interest on Kazuha's presence or the need to uphold responsible spending habits: "How am I supposed to hit on girls when you're always here? Between the two of us, I don't think anyone would voluntarily choose my ugly mug," he would insist. "I can't afford a raunchy night out, do you know how much rice costs these days?" his excuses would follow.
Kazuha, by samurai principle, found it somewhat unchivalrous to disclose the intimacies he had shared with another person, not to mention the manner in which men tended to discuss it was much too vulgar and degrading for his interest anyway. His trysts were, by comparison, closely guarded, both by his aforementioned principles and by the nature of who he tended to have them with.
And, after meeting Tomo, he scarcely found himself in need of them.
In truth, they fulfilled much of their needs for physical intimacy by virtue of being travel companies, and there were more nights than could be counted on two hands that they shared against each other, skin against skin, sharing a bed or huddled for warmth. Whatever emotional intimacy their physical closeness did not consist of was easily made up by their friendship, and Kazuha could not imagine a person he did not enjoy the presence of more.
Kazuha was the one to answer, though he had been rendered quiet by the subject matter thus far. "Very close," he said, and it was enough to confirm their host's suspicions.
"I want to see it, then." Kunikuzushi inquired to no response nor resistance. "Introduce yourselves to me as the pair that you are, and I'll reward you."
At this point, the atmosphere had loosened Kazuha enough for him to take the initiative and inch towards Tomo's seat at the table.
"Very good. Kaedehara-san understands."
Tomo looked at Kazuha with a clueless alarm that could transmit his thoughts perfectly: What are you doing?
But even as Kazuha craned his neck and closed in on the man's lips, Tomo didn't pull away. His hesitation until that point was only in Kunikuzushi's instructions, but he trusted Kazuha, and was comfortable enough with his presence to not be disgusted when he kissed him.
"You haven't even drank that much yet," Tomo commented to break the tension.
"Interesting." Kunikuzushi narrowed his eyes.
"You can admit we've done a little more than this when drunk," Kazuha added.
Kunikuzushi smiled, satisfied by the knowledge of this.
The first thing Tomo did was take down Kazuha's hair. He combed his fingers through it and pulled away the knotted ribbon keeping it fixed.
They kissed again—and only deeper still. There was an edge to their affection that became a competition between them, as though even in this moment, there was still a surviving resistance of their masculinity that demanded they assert oneself over the other. Kazuha's, of course, was at best playful, but it was a justified source of pride that he might prove just how experienced he was after years of chaste humility.
"Kazuha's rather hard to keep your hands off. The heavens know what I would have already done to him if he was a woman," Tomo commentated.
Kunikuzushi continued to watch the two intently. "Go on. What is it that you would do to him?"
"Oh, come on, I need a few more drinks before I can say it aloud."
"You can answer. I won't mind," Kazuha said. He sat in front of his companion's lap, and in that moment, they were only two friends who did not know how to touch each other yet, to bridge the platonic comfort of their friendship into the more unpredictable land of sexuality. They had fruitful individual journeys with it, but between each other, who have depended on on what reliable source of companionship they found in each other for years, to consider even a fraction more felt too greedy.
Tomo had laughed at the question's absurdity, but eventually collected himself enough to answer it seriously. "Do you remember that kabuki play we once watched? We couldn't afford to get in, so we watched from inside a tree. There was a scene between a man and his wife, and I could only imagine how the actors felt, two men loving each other like that—even under the guise of a role, it was rather intimate. But I wondered, for a moment, how it would have felt if it were us on that stage. When you're a couple drinks in, it's easy for your brain to skip the middleman of shame and go straight to imagining your best friend in your lap."
"I never thought you saw me like that," Kazuha responded earnestly.
"Damn—don't look at me like that. I can't stand it," Tomo continued. He looked down at the bare bottom of his now empty glass, somewhat surprised by his own ability to finish it. "There's gotta be something in this imported stuff."
"With foreign drink comes all the foreign debauchery this country fears most. I hope you don't mind that we indulge ourselves a little more tonight. A bottle of wine will only taste best the night its opened," Kunikuzushi said. He raised the bottle and gestured for Kazuha to raise his cup for a refill.
Kazuha was attentive not to spill a drop, savoring the occasion of having such a fine wine. As Kunikuzushi poured, he drew the bottle in towards his chest, and by threatening to spill it, he kept Kazuha adjusting his cup closer and closer until the rim just barely pressed against the writing down his skin.
And then, somewhat playfully, he began to pour it over himself.
Kazuha watched, the cup in his hand then made redundant, as the wine trickled down Kunikuzushi's chest and followed every divot and curve of his abdomen before sinking into the kimono pooled at his waist.
"Heavens, look at me," Kunikuzushi said though a sly smile. He looked down at Kazuha, who stared back with the eyes of a boy stupefied by a move never before done to him. "Be a good man and don't let this all go to waste."
Kunikuzushi set the bottle down and began to undo his obi. Kazuha's gaze got snared by his hands as they slowly peeled the fabric away and revealed Kunikuzushi's stomach.
"Come on, then. Don't be shy."
Kazuha raised himself; he began at the man's chest, following the trail of wine from where it has first made contact with Kunikuzushi's skin and cascaded down his sternum. It took him between his breasts, then past his ribcage, down to his navel, where Kazuha's tongue savored the minuscule pool that had formed there, and even further lower still.
Kazuha hesitated, but Kunikuzushi leaned back and made a display of opening his legs for Kazuha's head to fit between.
He paved a trail of kisses down to the man's pussy with little restraint, and he found himself soon obediently working his tongue into him. Kunikuzushi rewarded him with a relieved moan, coupled with a hand that combed through Kazuha's hair and, as one would a pet, scratched behind his ears.
"You're staring—but at who, I can't seem to answer," Kunikuzushi said to Tomo, who had been gawking at how smoothly the two before him had transitioned into sex. He pulled aside the rest of his kimono and let it fall across the table. He squeezed one breast until the nipple peaked, offering it to the man.
Tomo attached himself to it resolutely, and the two men's mouths went to work on showing appreciation for their host.
Kunikuzushi brushed the hair from out Tomo's eyes, then whispered down at him, "You're the bigger one of the two of you, correct?"
Tomo looked up at him and nodded, though he still remained attached to the man's nipple.
"Stand up. I want to see."
Tomo obeyed, undressing himself with newfound fervor before proudly presenting his hardon to the man. Kunikuzushi inspected it as it stood level to his face, and suddenly Tomo was shy beneath the scrutiny.
"Not bad," Kunikuzushi announced his verdict.
He opened his mouth lazily and waited for it to be placed inside. Not wasting another moment, Tomo propped one knee up on the table and laid the tip of his cock on Kunikuzushi's tongue.
The man's lips closed around it, and his small face was betrayed by just how much cock it could swallow. Kunikuzushi bobbed on it half-heartedly, sparing only so much as half the man's length before leaving the rest for his hand to pump. Tomo, a simple man, was pleased enough just by the sight and warmth of Kunikuzushi's mouth around his cock. He couldn't name the last time he got such action—never mind by such a catch as him. Granted, of course, he was a rather eccentric character and, frankly, a sexual deviant, but Tomo was never one to discredit beauty for being masculine.
Kunikuzushi pulled himself off the man to catch his breath. "Why don't you let Kazuha taste?"
Tomo looked down at Kazuha, who had been following the conversation up to that point, busy as he was. Kunikuzushi opened his legs again for Kazuha to free himself, and tentatively, the samurai opened his mouth in anticipation of his companion's cock.
But Kazuha was a diligent servant, and even as he busied himself with Tomo's dick, his hands remained on Kunikuzushi's body: In place of his tongue, he buried his fingers in the man's cunt, kneading his walls and comforting his insides with the notion that they will be filled soon enough.
"Kazuha, you're not half bad at this…"
"Disappointed to know how much you've been missing out on up to this point?" Kunikuzushi said, sly and proud for having bridged their relationship in only a night. "Your friend here likes to pretend he's innocent, but anyone who is familiar with his ilk can tell exactly where his tastes lie—samurai are rather notorious for their more masculine preferences."
"You say that as if you actors aren't notorious yourselves," Tomo quipped, though he was much too absorbed by Kazuha's mouth to give any more clever of an answer. "I would like to see what you're capable of, personally."
Kunikuzushi bristled at the accusation, immediately taking it more personally than Tomo had intended.
"Get your dick out of his mouth and go pull a futon out, then," Kunikuzushi ordered.
Tomo complied with a chuckle hanging on his words, replying, "Alright, alright. In here, I suppose?" He clambered over to one of the sliding doors, scantily clad. Though the closets and the entryways looked identical, he pulled the first door open with the confidence of someone who hadn't yet realized the chance he might fully flash an innocent bystander.
"There should be a bottle in there, too," Kunikuzushi called from his perch on the table. He had gone back to pouring Kazuha more alcohol, subtly luring the man into more intoxication.
Tomo returned with a futon in tow, though he was more preoccupied by the small clouded bottle in his hand. "This stuff? Clover oil?"
Kunikuzushi hummed, and Kazuha met his eyes with recognition.
"I want Kazuha on his back," Kunikuzushi announced as soon as the futon was laid out. Kazuha wordlessly followed suit, and as soon as he managed himself onto his back, Kunikuzushi climbed on top of him.
"How come he gets to go first?" Tomo complained.
Kunikuzushi laughed. "Oh, I don't do turns." He lifted his kimono to reveal his plump ass, and looked at Tomo as if to address him. "Give that mouth something to do."
He demonstrated his flexibility and the satisfying arch of his back as he leaned forward over Kazuha's chest. He was eager to taste more of the man when he brought their lips together, stealing his tongue away as if he might get drunk off the wine still on it. Kazuha allowed him the freedom to do with him as he pleased simply opening his mouth on demand and groping whatever Kunikuzushi led his hands to.
Tomo, by comparison, was more hesitant to put his mouth to Kunikuzushi's ass than Kazuha had been. He saw it as an emasculating act, but he willed himself into it by the prospect of what would come after it.
"You two can oil yourselves up. I'm not doing it for you," Kunikuzushi declared.
Tomo was more quick between them to uncork the bottle and lather himself generously in it. Even as Kazuha extended a hand to take the bottle, Tomo went ahead, reached underneath Kunikuzushi's hips, and oiled Kazuha's cock on his behalf.
Kazuha was surprised by the touch, but readily eased into it. Trapped by Kunikuzushi, who remained unmoving on top of him, Kazuha had little option but to accept his companion's help.
The thick layer of oil left over on Tomo's hand was spent on Kunikuzushi, and he coated both entrances with a generous amount before teasing the man's pussy with a finger.
Kunikuzushi hummed sweetly, expressing approval of Tomo's efforts, and snuggled comfortably against Kazuha's neck.
After a while, Tomo increased Kunikuzushi's dosage by another finger and added a thumb to his asshole for good measure. Kazuha kissed the man's temple softly, which encouraged him to relax around Tomo's hand.
"That's good enough, surely?" Tomo humored.
Kunikuzushi shifted his hips back. "It'll do."
Tomo aided Kazuha's cock by lining him up to their host's entrance, after which Kunikuzushi sat back to take him inside. Although obscured by Kunikuzushi's kimono, still pooled at his hips, Kazuha could feel as his cock rubbed against something warm and wet before pressing into it.
Kazuha filled Kunikuzushi's pussy with some resistance. A low moan resounded from his throat, which he seemed to demand that the other two ignore.
Next was Tomo's turn. Kunikuzushi was restless to begin, and he underestimated the amount of time he needed to collect himself. Regardless, though, he urged the man to continue, and Tomo was helpless to comply.
Fitting the width of Tomo's tip was substantially harder than Kazuha had been. Kunikuzushi's tightness thwarted his attempts to push it in as easily, and it required a combination of oil application and stretching before his hole finally gave.
"Ah," the noise escaped Kunikuzushi as the tip pushed past his rim, muffled as his face buried into Kazuha's shoulder. His shoulders raised , and his body curled in on itself protectively. "Hah—damn…"
After that point, it was easy for the men to sink themselves in deeper, and they did as soon as Kunikuzushi stopped writhing. Tomo held the man's hips steady as he was penetrated, which was increasingly helpful as he continued to squirm.
"Are you okay?" Kazuha was the one to ask.
"I'm fine. All physical signs of resistance is—ngh—involuntary and should not be considered a reflection of my… my…" he lost the words he attempted to say.
It did not help that Tomo continued to thrust into him even as he tried to clarify himself. Greedy bastard, Kunikuzushi thought. He's lucky he has some worth as a cock.
Tomo grew even faster still, and his grip on the man's hips sharpened to keep him steady. Soon, Kunikuzushi was getting pounded by the man.
"I'll go slower if you need," Tomo said.
It was rational enough for someone without the kind of complex that Kunikuzushi had. Because, and Tomo knew at least this, Kunikuzushi could only ever regard that as a challenge.
This, he figured, was what Kaedehara-san's poem had been about. The ink down his chest remained a reminder of that as his chest bounced wildly with the force of each thrust.
But, contrary to what Kunikuzushi had believed, Kazuha wasn't going to sit idle either. Soon after Tomo had begun, Kazuha followed suit. His hips bucked up into Kunikuzushi's belly, and what he lacked in Tomo's pace he made up for in strength. He preferred to take his time, and emphasize each thrust he gave.
That was what Kunikuzushi loved most about two close friends: they complemented each other, amplified each other, and combined towards a result greater than the sum of their parts.
Kunikuzushi's guts felt satisfyingly full, and if the two men were not actively making love to him, he would have relished just the feeling of both them inside him at once. It ached so good, and Kunikuzushi grew addicted to the shocks sent through his body as the men hit the nerves buried deep inside him. At any given moment, he felt as though his body could have burst at is seams, but neither man allowed him a moment to rest, pushing him relentlessly against his limit and towards his climax.
Kazuha seemed to notice that all it would have taken to make the man cum was stimulation at his clit. In doing so, he pulled Kunikuzushi's hand away as he attempted to pleasure himself and intended to delay it as much as possible.
"Shall we do that position?" Kazuha said, and it took Kunikuzushi a moment to realize he was talking to Tomo.
"You want to?" Tomo's grin was audible through his words.
"I think he's almost ready."
At once, Kunikuzushi felt Tomo relent, and for a moment he thought the man had finished inside until he felt a pair of arms loop under his legs.
"Oh, no, you fucking don't—" Kunikuzushi attempted to say, though he made no discernible effort to resist.
Tomo lifted him off Kazuha and held him in a humiliating position in the air: legs folded up to his chest, breasts pressed between his knees, holes freely available and on full display.
Kazuha got to his knees and was quick to reenter Kunikuzushi's cunt. He kissed him hungrily, now in control as Tomo restrained him.
Now subject to their discretion, Tomo and Kazuha began to finish themselves off in each of their respective holes, separately reaching higher, sloppier, and more aggressive paces. They worked together well, and as they thrusted at the same time, Tomo's cock would press Kazuha's against Kunikuzushi's g-spot.
Kunikuzushi had gone largely numb to it, and he could do little but attempt to relax as both men used him. Even as his strength dropped out, their cocks would continue to force themselves deep inside him. Though, not even as his walls tightened around them, his body's futile attempt to expel the obstructions, would they have even considered to pull out. Tomo's speed could not even afford him a moment to whine, and Kazuha continued to thrust hard against Kunikuzushi's sweeter weak spots.
"You barbarians—" he whispered under his breath. "So—ah!"
Tomo thrusted hard against him, and continued to do so with a newfound vitality that seemed only to arise in spite of Kunikuzushi's protests.
"Wait—I—"
Kunikuzushi reached a hand down to touch himself again, but Kazuha pinned his wrists down, then kissed him into silence.
"How are you doing, Kaz? Are you close?"
Kazuha gave the man's thighs a loving squeeze before he bottomed out once more. "Quite. How about you?"
"I'm just about to bust." He snapped his hips into the man, eliciting a cry from the latter. "Let's finish up, then."
Kazuha smiled. "Alright."
Tomo readjusted his hold on Kunikuzushi, who seemed to crumple even more in his arms the longer they fucked him.
After that, his holes were accustomed to their size, and his body really accepted the last bouts of energy the men had to offer: hard, fast, deep thrusts that transformed his sore, empty holes into a stuffed belly within a fraction of a second.
"Ah!" Kunikuzushi could not stop himself from crying out as they pounded him. His whines devolved into incoherent babbles somewhat intonated as threats and insults.
Kazuha massaged Kunikuzushi's clit as soon as they were about to finish, and Kunikuzushi's orgasm was almost instantaneous.
He cried out as it ripped through him, and his body convulsed around the two cocks still moving inside him.
"Wait!" he whined desperately. However, Tomo and Kazuha continued only faster, chasing their climaxes and torturing Kunikuzushi's insides with stimuli.
"Tight," was all Tomo managed to say, whispered under his breath as if it had intended as a thought, before he slammed his hips in deep and filled the man's ass with his ejaculate.
Kazuha came soon after, and he ground out his orgasm against Kunikuzushi's hips, cock buried deep inside his belly.
They remained there for a moment as they rode out each wave of their high, and Kunikuzushi remained held in place between them; he could do nothing but take each rope of cum he was given, though his holes throbbed and tightened around the cocks inside them. The two men saw this as only an incentive: that Kunikuzushi was milking them of every drop, if not begging for more.
As soon as Tomo let him down, Kunikuzushi collapsed onto the futon. Kazuha hoisted the man into his arms and laid down with him, which the latter rewarded with a plethora of lazy, absent-minded kisses made to Kazuha's neck.
"Was that good enough for you, your highness?" Tomo said, settling down next to Kazuha. He couldn't deny Kunikuzushi's favoritism towards the other man, but nor did he have any intention to change his opinion.
"It was fine," Kunikuzushi answered lamely, as if already bored from the premise of Tomo being the one to ask.
"You to endured so much of us," Kazuha cooed with admiration, and Kunikuzushi soaked up the praise hungrily. Kazuha figured out an ever bigger weakness in the man: that he was utterly vulnerable to well-placed respect. Kunikuzushi couldn't bring himself to answer, but he acknowledged the comment with a huff.
Kunikuzushi hated the idea of submission, but Kazuha made the exception easy. Kazuha comforted him as his body relaxed and fatigue overcame him. There was an alarming risk of letting himself become so vulnerable in front of two strangers he had just met that night, but Kazuha's kindness was like a siren call in its ability to subdue even the most guarded of men.
"I want to clean you up a little," Kazuha said, and laid Kunikuzushi down onto the futon by himself—though to the latter's apprehension. Kunikuzushi didn't know what Kazuha intended to do, but he allowed him all the same.
Kazuha lowered his mouth between Kunikuzushi's legs. At first, even the slight pressure of Kazuha's breath against his sensitive cunt was enough to reflexively close his legs, but Kazuha easily pried him open once more.
A thick mixture of fluids accumulated between Kunikuzushi's legs, and though the two men had buried themselves deep, a cloudy white had already began to ooze from his holes, aided by how much he had been stretched.
Kazuha's tongue began along his thighs, and he went to work cleaning Kunikuzushi's bottom half before moving onto his erogenous zones. He lifted the man's hips—and Kunikuzushi's body agreed to the manhandling—before pushing his tongue into his asshole to clean it of Tomo's work.
Both Kunikuzushi and Tomo found themselves engrossed in the man's work. Tomo, rather greedily, wondered how he'd do the same for a penis.
"If I keep watching, I'm going to get worked up again," Tomo commented playfully. He looked away, but he was hardly hiding the fact he was testing the air to see if the others could go for a second round.
Kazuha raised himself from Kunikuzushi's ass to respond. "I'm inclined to go again. But maybe…" He moved a hand to Tomo's thigh. "We could do something. We don't have to ask our host to do even more for us."
Kunikuzushi huffed indignantly. "If you two are having sex in my room, then I'm joining."
"You keep working, then," Tomo said to Kazuha. He shuffled around for the bottle of clover oil that had been haphazardly forgotten about somewhere on the floor.
Kazuha watched him with a keen eye even as he went back to cleaning, and he grew excited as Tomo sat himself behind the man.
Tomo lifted the smaller man with ease, moving him forward until he was seated between Kunikuzushi's legs once more. Kazuha clued into his intentions, and he raised his hips in anticipation as Tomo began to work himself stiff once more.
Tomo lent a hand to Kazuha as well, working the man's cock and wetting it against Kunikuzushi's cunt. Once Kazuha was hard again, Tomo planted a hand against the man's shoulder and pushed him down against Kunikuzushi. The two smaller men fit together nicely, and Kunikuzushi wrapped himself around Kazuha habitually.
Kazuha pushed himself inside once more, and after that, it was Tomo's turn to do so.
He eased into Kazuha as easily as he did Kunikuzushi—that is to say, with some resistance. Kazuha's rim took a similar amount of encouragement before he could sink his length inside him.
Kazuha whined at the intrusion, and the sound landed right against Kunikuzushi's ear, who had to pretend it wasn't the most choral thing he had ever heard.
Kazuha was absorbed by the warmth of Kunikuzushi's pussy and the fullness of his ass. He rocked himself into the man beneath him gently, and Kunikuzushi answered him with a high, resonant hum of satisfaction. Kazuha intended to savor every inch of the man: he wanted to grope every curve, kiss every surface, and map the landscape that Kunikuzushi's body formed.
He pinned Kunikuzushi down as he humped him, and though his thrusts were shallow, he kept himself seated deep inside the man. At that distance, it was easy to see how beautiful Kunikuzushi was up close, and he only wondered if the audience he played for could recognize a fraction of it.
Combined with Tomo's cock pressing up against his prostate and the quality alcohol in his bloodstream, Kazuha was in bliss.
"Are all samurai this averse to pulling out?" Kunikuzushi mumbled into the man's ear as though it wasn't his legs wrapped around Kazuha's waist.
"Would you like me to?" Kazuha asked in earnest.
Kunikuzushi huffed. "That's not what I said at all."
"I'm sure it is difficult for anyone to find the will to separate themselves from you," Kazuha replied playfully. He dropped a hand to Kunikuzushi's clit. "I can't help but be inspired to recite a line at this moment."
"Oh?" Kunikuzushi settled into his hand. "Go on."
"A maple leaf pinched betwixt the index and thumb—held, only briefly, to be cherished," he said, though his speech was interrupted by interspersed thrusts from both him and Tomo.
Kunikuzushi hummed in approval. "It's rather on the nose."
Kazuha smiled, burying his face into the man's neck and offering him a round of stiffer thrusts in consolation.
Tomo was sitting still as Kazuha did most of the work easing himself back onto his dick. From this angle, he could admire Kazuha's freckled backside as he made love to the man under him, who appeared only by the arms and legs that swaddled Kazuha's body closer. "I thought it was pretty good," he commented.
"I appreciate you, Tomo," Kazuha answered.
"Always, man." Tomo rubbed circles into Kazuha's shoulder. "Not to interrupt you two, but anyone feeling to change positions? Can't imagine how tired Kazuha is."
Kazuha reassured him out of courtesy, "Oh, I'm fine."
"What do you have in mind?" Kunikuzushi answered.
Tomo's alternate plan led to him lying on his back with Kazuha riding him. Kunikuzushi kneeled in front of Kazuha to receive him, and there was a tension between Tomo and Kunikuzushi as they faced each other.
This position made it easy for Tomo to thrust up into the man while Kunikuzushi could fuck himself on Kazuha, largely leaving the man to sit pretty as he was serviced by the other two.
Even still, he insisted on as much skin contact with Kunikuzushi as possible, and held the man closely with his back to his chest. It made wrapping his hands around him to access his weak spots easy, and Kazuha made a grand display of Kunikuzushi's body: he groped his breasts and rubbed his clit, which Tomo couldn't help but watch excitedly.
"Damn, what a view," Tomo said.
Kunikuzushi frowned with a disgust he couldn't (nor cared to) hide. He said nothing, ignoring him so that it was as if the words hadn't been said at all.
As a reward for Kazuha's work, Tomo held his hips in place as he planted his feet and thrusted roughly into him. The sound of their skin connecting echoed throughout the room, and Tomo relished the sound as he continued to fuck the smaller man with the full length of his cock.
Kazuha moaned sweetly into Kunikuzushi's ear with each thrust, the force of which sent him deeper inside Kunikuzushi. "He's—ah, quite big, isn't he?" Kazuha humored. A sweat broke out along his brow as his body stretched to accommodate the man, and he realized just how long it had been since he had received like this.
Kunikuzushi huffed. "Why don't you focus on yourself?" Breaking free of Kazuha's arms, he leaned forward and planted his hands on Tomo's chest.
"What's this about?" Tomo commented.
Kunikuzushi flashed him a glare. He only intended to place his weight on the man so he could more effectively ease himself onto Kazuha's cock. Ignoring him once more, Kunikuzushi went to work bouncing himself on Kazuha and insisted that he fill himself to the samurai's hilt each time.
"Oh—easy, sweetheart," Kazuha whined as his body was stimulated in two places once more.
Kunikuzushi fucked him with a competitive ferocity, which Tomo happily met. It was a war of attrition that Kazuha was sitting collateral for, and he was sure he would lose before either of the other two came.
There were more than a few instances where Kunikuzushi lifted himself too far and Kazuha's cock slipped out, trailed by a stream of fluids. It was easy for Kunikuzushi to adjust and take it back inside himself without Kazuha having to lend a hand, but at one point, he was growing increasingly sloppy and impatient and kept clumsily missing as a result.
At this point, Kazuha figured it appropriate to hold himself steady for Kunikuzushi. But some misaligned combination of factors led to Kunikuzushi easing himself back and, instead of the hole he had intended to receive him in, sat his ass onto Kazuha's cock instead.
Kazuha was none the wiser to the difference until Kunikuzushi's shoulders jolted with surprise. He held himself there for a moment, and with a low groan, Kazuha looked down to realize the problem.
Kazuha made an effort to move, but Kunikuzushi put a hand on his thigh and signaled for him to stay exactly as he was.
"What happened? Wrong hole?" Tomo asked.
"Shut up," Kunikuzushi answered, his defensive response only serving to confirm.
Slowly, Kunikuzushi worked himself back up to speed, refusing to acknowledge it even as he fucked his ass full once more.
"Man, how come Kazuha gets to try both?" Tomo complained.
Kunikuzushi answered with impatience, "I would sooner let Kazuha into each orifice than let you into one. You should recognize your place as a concession."
Tomo didn't take it very personally, though he could easily tell Kunikuzushi meant it.
"I, personally, don't mind the sound of that," Kazuha answered.
"… How long are you staying?" Kunikuzushi asked.
"A few nights," he answered.
"Huh? Since when?" Tomo asked, though he would get no response.
Kunikuzushi hummed. "Oh, I can work with that."
Despite their banter, Kazuha was growing increasingly close to finishing. He had done his best up to that point to stave off his orgasm, but Tomo was doing even better to hit his prostate each time.
His climax ended up taking him by surprise. Without much warning, he pulled Kunikuzushi's hips flush against his own and seated himself down on Tomo's cock.
"Oh, goodness," Kazuha said as his stomach flipped.
"Ah—" Kunikuzushi squirmed and grabbed at Kazuha's wrists as he felt Kazuha twitch inside him. Kazuha lifted him on his cock a few more times as he drew out the last ropes of cum from his orgasm. "Kaedehara-san—" he cried uselessly as Kazuha filled him once more.
"I'm sorry—I truly can't help myself." Kazuha followed his apology with a kiss.
Kunikuzushi huffed. "Whatever. You still have to help me finish."
"Of course," Kazuha answered.
"Hey—and me, too," Tomo said from below. "Get ready, Kaz."
Tomo lifted him back into his original position and, all at once, launched an all-out assault on Kazuha's ass that intended to burn the last bouts of energy left in his body.
"Tomo—!" Kazuha cried. "Oh, that's—heavens—"
"Want to tap out?" Tomo said, though he maintained his pace.
Kazuha couldn't even manage an answer, and his words devolved into a mixture of pained whines and moans as Tomo repeatedly thrusted into his sensitive prostate.
Tomo bucked sharply as his climax first began, sending a load deep inside Kazuha's guts. A series of thrusts roughly followed as he flooded the man with cum, leaving his hole dripping with a frothy paste of white.
"Fuck, Kaz, were you always this tight?" Tomo groaned. "To think I could have been using you like this this entire time."
Eventually, Tomo finished, emptying the last of his balls deep inside him, and reluctantly pulled himself out of the man.
It left the two companions exhausted and searching their lungs for breath. Kunikuzushi, however, remained unamused and unfinished.
"Don't go thinking you two are done yet," he announced.
"Aw, crap," Tomo said.
"You can sit out for all I care," Kunikuzushi shot back, interpreting Tomo's comment as disappointment and promptly taking offense.
Kazuha slipped himself out and laid down beside Tomo. "Come here, then."
Kunikuzushi crawled over to him, and Kazuha guided his hips to his face. The man, pleased by Kazuha's resolve, followed along until his pussy sat on Kazuha's mouth.
"Hmph… See? That's how a good boy treats his host." Kunikuzushi looked to Tomo proudly.
Tomo threw his hands up. "Oh, come on, just give me a second…" After getting himself up to his knees, he leaned himself over, fit himself between Kunikuzushi's legs, and began to suck at his clit.
Kunikuzushi went as far as to grab the man's hair and hump his mouth, solidifying his victory. As Kazuha's tongue massaged his insides, Kunikuzushi steadily approached his own climax.
It didn't take much long after, and a few more encouraging thrusts against the men's mouths quickly brought a fountain of pleasure through his stomach. His body tightened and he could feel himself throb around Kazuha's tongue, spilling himself into him.
"Fuck," he uttered with a whine. "Good boys. That's perfect…"
When he went to raise himself, the two men held him in place, greedily nursing at his pussy as if it were their last meal.
"That's enough—" Kunikuzushi squirmed as the pleasure quickly became overstimulating. "I said—!"
By the time they let him go, Kazuha had cleaned him up almost perfectly. He crawled off them at the soonest opportunity, shielding his vagina from them in defiance.
"You want me to clean you up, too, Kaz?" Tomo asked.
"No," Kunikuzushi interjected. "I'm doing that."
"Well, how nice of you. Wouldn't mind doing me too, would you?" Tomo stood and extended a hand out for Kazuha as well, which he took and lifted himself to his feet.
The two men looked down at him expectantly, their flaccid cocks waiting for service.
Kunikuzushi huffed. "… Fine."
He crawled over and propped himself into his knees. He opened his mouth and stared up at Kazuha, waiting for the man to place himself inside.
Kazuha stepped forward eagerly, and gently led his cock through Kunikuzushi's lips. The man worked him carefully, as Kazuha was well empty and still sensitive. While soft, he could fit his entire length, and he swallowed Kazuha down to his base.
He looked somewhat humiliated, which was compounded by Tomo's cock sitting in anticipation next to his face.
Kunikuzushi cleaned Kazuha's cock and savored the remaining cum that dribbled from his tip. Once he was finished, Tomo held himself out for him, and Kunikuzushi apprehensively opened his mouth once more.
Kunikuzushi didn't seem keen on giving him the same level of treatment as he did Kazuha, and Tomo responded by grabbing him by the hair and forcing himself against the man's throat.
Kunikuzushi whined a muffled complaint, but did little to resist beside shoot the man an angry look.
"He's kinda cute like this," Tomo remarked.
Kunikuzushi responded by closing his teeth around the man's cock, which was an effective way of communicating his thoughts.
"Aye, aye…" Tomo let the man go, who promptly pulled himself off to breathe. "You missed a spot," Tomo continued.
"Go fuck yourself," he retorted. The last of his composure melted away from Tomo's comment rubbing his embarrassment in, and for the first time that night, a blush crept across his face. Then, in defiance, he said conclusively, "I'm going to sleep. You can get your own room."
"Oh, come on, sweetheart," Tomo whined, though his cheeky smile betrayed his sincerity.
Kunikuzushi carefully laid himself down to rest, and the soreness in his body was already apparent from the precarious way his hips found the futon. "Come massage me, Kaedehara-san."
Kazuha perked up. "Yessir," he answered obediently.
"I want to massage you, too…" Tomo said.
Kunikuzushi huffed, dismissing the absurdity of his statement.
"You can watch, then."