Warning: All In One

Stories that merit content warnings.

Six

Lucifer and Michael deal with their history. Drama with Sex, I-5

Warning: While it’s not exactly non-con, there are violent and coercive elements to the sex in this story, and the sex in question is between siblings.

Character(s): Lucifer, Michael
Pairing(s): Lucifer/Michael

“You think I’ll just stand here and let you take over the whole damned world?!”

“You can try to stop me, if you like.”

Michael grabbed Lucifer’s arm, as he turned away. “No! Damn it, this time you’re going to face me, and no bull shit! Not just hand me the fucking victory like some kind of fucking lollipop!”

His brother’s arm turned in his grip, and then it was Michael who was held by the wrists, and his back slammed into the wall hard enough to knock his breath out.

“Don’t you understand, yet, Michael?” Lucifer asked, leaning against him to pin him in place. “It was all a put up, but it wasn’t my idea. I was assigned to fall, to lose. Destined, just like you were destined to win. God’s will, isn’t that what destiny is?”

“And you just did it?” Michael snarled.

The pressure against him lessened a little as Lucifer threw his head back and laughed. “Do you want to tell me what else I could have done?”

“You could have fought!” Michael raged, not even sure who he thought his brother should have fought against.

“You’re so simple. Have you even figured out why you still want to fight me?”

Before Michael could find some way to show just how pissed off he was getting, Lucifer leaned into him again. And kissed him.

Michael froze, eyes wide and blind, feeling his brother’s long body pressing against his, his brother’s open mouth covering his, and when had Michael opened his mouth? Lucifer drew back just in time to avoid getting bitten as Michael regained his wits and twisted away. Michael panted, staring up at him. Lucifer’s mouth curved in a smile like a knife.

“I’m your twin, Michael. Do you think I don’t know what you want?” he asked, low and soft.

“I… I don’t…” Michael wrenched at his brother’s hold, and unfolded his wings. Even Lucifer was burned by Michael’s fire.

Lucifer’s wings rushed open, too, though, and Michael froze again. Those four wings, black as void, overshadowed him. Still. Always. Damn it! He didn’t even notice Lucifer sliding a leg between his until his brother’s thigh pressed against his half-hard erection and he gasped. That knowing smile infuriated Michael all over, and he hissed, fighting again. Holding him took all of Lucifer’s weight, now, and their wings flared, flapped…

…touched.

Michael’s entire being jolted like an electric current had slammed through him. Every hair felt like it was standing on end. He felt like his own fire was one breath away from turning back on him and burning him to ash.

They jerked apart, staring at each other, breathing hard.

“Yes,” Lucifer said, voice husky. “That’s it.”

Lucifer’s wings swept against Michael’s again, and unbearable sensation rushed back. Michael shouted, and fisted his hands in Lucifer’s hair. Lucifer’s teeth gleamed as he moaned through them and drove Michael harder against the wall and his thigh rubbed between Michael’s legs. A bright spike of heat wrenched at Michael’s nerves, and he pressed back without thinking, rubbing himself against his brother’s leg, bucking against him again and again until pleasure hammered through his heart so hard he thought it might stop.

Lucifer finally fanned his wings back, and Michael slumped, dazed, only to be caught up in his brother’s kiss. It was wet and warm and gentle, and Michael hauled himself away from it with an effort.

“What…?”

Yes,” Lucifer growled in his ear. “You know what it is; you feel it when we fight. I’m your twin, Michael. You want me and I want you. I want your body under mine. I want to see your legs spread and feel them strain because you want me to be part of you. I want to hear you screaming for me to fuck you harder when our wings tangle, because it’s the only thing that even comes close to this.” He brushed his wings, teasing, against Michael’s one more time. Michael jerked, fingers clawing through Lucifer’s shirt and into his skin.

“I hate you!” he choked. “Lucifer… Aniue…” Michael hauled his brother tighter against his body.

“I know,” Lucifer whispered, soothingly, and tore Michael’s clothing away. His own followed. One hand slid up Michael’s back to stroke between his wings, which flexed and quivered at the tingle of that touch. Michael felt himself starting to harden again, and moaned.

“Twinned angels need each other, little brother. Let me in.”

Lucifer’s arms lifted him, and Michael locked his legs around his brother’s hips, flung his arms over those broad shoulders. He set his wings forward, stroked against Lucifer’s, and that terrible power surged. Michael sobbed for breath, biting down on Lucifer’s shoulder. His brother arched into him, gasping, and his hands shook as they caressed Michael’s ass, spread his cheeks apart. He felt the head of his brother’s cock press against him, felt his muscles clench, felt Lucifer hesitate.

“Do it,” he rasped. “Fuck. Do it!” Michael didn’t think he could stand not being connected for much longer.

“Michael!” Lucifer almost sounded like he was in pain. Michael knew exactly what he felt like, right then, and squeezed closer.

“Do it, damn it!”

Lucifer thrust into him, slow and rough, and a tiny, sane corner of Michael’s mind was positive this would hurt like hell later. He didn’t think it did now; he wasn’t sure. All he was sure of was that something had been completed, and it felt like all the power of the heavens and hells had crystallized in the circle of their bodies, and a scream tore his throat.

His brother’s voice answered him.

Their mouths came together like they were trying to drink each other down, muffling the sounds as they jerked against each other, without rhythm. The harsh drag of Lucifer’s cock in and out of Michael’s ass burned, and the burn sliced through the brilliant glory of their wings touching, made it bearable, and the glory soothed the burn and made it so good Michael didn’t know if he could stop. He sure as hell didn’t want to.

“Fuck! Harder!” he growled against his brother’s mouth. “Aniue!”

Lucifer’s arms pressed Michael into the wall, and his hips pulled back, drove up hard, and Michael’s wings slid between Lucifer’s, and fuck, yes, that was it. He never wanted to stop; he always wanted this pounding pulse between them; he always wanted to feel every feather of his brother’s wings, every bit of his brother’s power, slipping through and against his. If Michael died like this, that’d be fine.

For a second, he thought the universe had heard him.

Everything whited out and Michael swore he felt his brother pass through him with the brush of feathers, and it was so much light and so much power and so much pleasure he couldn’t even scream.

When he could think enough to open his eyes again, he and Lucifer were dripping with sweat, chests heaving for breath, and their wings had folded in again. Michael didn’t remember doing that. Maybe it was survival instinct, because he wasn’t sure he could have lived through much more of that. Lucifer’s hands lifted Michael a little and his brother gingerly slid out of him.

“Fuck!” He’d known it would hurt, later, damn it.

Lucifer held him up, one hand gently rubbing Michael’s lower back. “Sorry about that, little brother.”

Michael snorted against Lucifer’s shoulder. “Yeah, I bet. Bastard,” he grumbled.

Lucifer’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Michael,” he murmured, lifting Michael’s chin for a slow kiss.

Michael leaned into it for a moment, sucking on Lucifer’s tongue, before the faint, hungry sound in his own throat brought him back to himself. Then he shoved his brother back again. “Pervert!”

“Twin,” Lucifer corrected, combing his fingers possessively through the short, sweat-damp spikes of Michael’s hair.

Michael bared his teeth. “You telling me Rociel and your woman, Alexiel, were like this?”

“Rociel joined his power and body to hers, in the end.” Lucifer shrugged. “I can understand why, can’t you? Not that I have any intention of killing you.”

Michael growled and looked pointedly away even as he leaned against his brother to feel the heat of Lucifer’s skin on his. “You’re such an asshole.”

End

Last Modified: Feb 09, 12
Posted: Dec 16, 04
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Blaid, nebulia, Whisper132, cay and 12 other readers sent Plaudits.

In the Family

Belial introduces the Fujis to the Mudous. Drama with Humor, I-3

Notes: Contains consensual sibling incest.

"Aniki, couldn’t you have gotten Saeki-san to practice with you?"
Yuuta asked.

The complaint was for form’s sake, and his brother’s smile said that he knew
it perfectly well. Still. Their… reconciliation… was new enough that
Yuuta would have preferred some time away from potential irritants and interruptions.

"Ah, Fuji-kun, what marvelous timing you have. One was hoping to introduce
you."

Interruptions like that. Yuuta sighed, resigned, and then had to take a second
look at the person who had hailed his brother. He didn’t think he’d ever
seen anyone dressed quite that flamboyantly outside a festival. Or, possibly,
a circus. He was busy enough looking at the top hat that it took him a few
moments to notice that his brother had paused beside the strange person,
and was now standing on Yuuta’s other side.

Between him and the strangers. Yuuta took a closer look.

There were, in fact, three of them. The other two looked far more normal. A
young man and woman, both blond and looking alike enough they had to be related.
So what was it about them that was making Aniki tense up?

"Friends of yours, Hatter-san?" his brother asked the oddly dressed
one.

"One rather doubts it," the Hatter person answered, serenely. "Fuji-kun,
this is Mudou Setsuna, erstwhile Messiah, and Sara, his…"

"Girlfriend," Setsuna put in, very firmly.

"Of course," Hatter murmured, "and this is Fuji Shuusuke, and
his brother, Yuuta I believe it was?"

"Yes." Aniki’s smile was starting to sharpen.

So, Yuuta tallied up in his own mind, this person who seemed to know his brother,
and who his brother seemed a little wary of, wanted to introduce them to
a couple who looked remarkably like relatives. He swallowed hard and tried
to keep breathing.

"Aniki," he managed, "who is this?" And, more importantly,
what did he know?

His brother stepped a little closer to him. "This is Mad Hatter. He’s
a demon."

Yuuta turned his head to look at his brother, who appeared to be serious. "A
demon?" he repeated, just on the off chance he’d actually misheard.

"Quite," Hatter agreed. And a pair of black wings unfolded behind
him.

Yuuta stared. "Aniki," he said, very calmly, "what did you put
in my juice this morning?"

"One does assure you, it wasn’t your brother," Hatter assured him,
waving one wing.

"A demon," Aniki reiterated, "who isn’t going to be having anything
to do with you, Yuuta. Is he?" Hatter was now on the receiving end of
a very dangerous look.

He didn’t seem concerned.

"Ah, siblings," Hatter sighed. "They’re so precious." He
fanned his wings. "And entertaining. Why don’t the four of you have
a nice little chat, then? One is sure it will be good for all of you."

And then he sank out of sight into his own shadow. Yuuta stared at the sidewalk
and reminded himself that it wasn’t healthy to hyperventilate.

"So," Setsuna sighed, running a hand through his hair, "you’ve
met Hatter before?"

"He can be entertaining company," Aniki observed.

Setsuna blinked at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. "I’ll
stop worrying, then!"

Sara swatted his shoulder. "Setsuna, cut it out. Maybe Fuji-san didn’t
know what he was getting into." She gave them a bright, sympathetic
smile, and Yuuta relaxed in spite of himself. It might be nice to talk with
her sometime, actually. If he was reading the situation right, she might
understand a few things.

"You think?" Setsuna asked, raising a skeptical brow. "I
bet he did. He’d probably get along with Hatter’s boss, too." The thought
seemed to amuse him.

Sara planted her hands on her hips. "Enough of that! You said you’d wait
until we were both reborn to start playing politics with everyone again."

"Right, right," Setsuna raised his hands, placatingly. "Anyway,
I think we’ll probably see you at Nationals, Fuji."

"Really?" Aniki sounded only mildly curious, and Yuuta sighed. Some
day, he’d figure out how his brother did it.

Setsuna grinned. "I’m a friend of Tachibana’s."

"Small world," Aniki commented in an amiable tone.

"Gettin’ smaller every day," Setsuna answered ruefully over his shoulder
as his… sister?… towed him off with great determination.

"Are you sure we can’t have a nice, calm day inside?" Yuuta asked,
looking straight ahead, just in case any other weirdness was strolling by.

His brother laughed, softly. "That might be a good idea after all. Come
on, let’s head home."

 

End

Last Modified: May 07, 12
Posted: Jan 10, 05
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Still Air

Seiran wakes Ryuuki from a nightmare and is convinced to stay and comfort him. Smut ensues. Porn with Characterization, I-4

Notes: Contains consensual sibling incest.

Pairing(s): Seiran/Ryuuki

Darkness.

Stifling darkness and the almost-silence that meant there was no one near him, no one with him, but people nevertheless. People beyond his reach, walking around out in the light, forgetting him, leaving him.

“Haa!” Ryuuki started up with a harsh gasp, eyes wide trying to see something other than darkness.

And there was light.

Light and warm, strong hands on his shoulders.

“Majesty, wake up, it’s all right.” Seien was sitting on the edge of the bed, calling him, eyes dark with worry. A tiny lamp was lit, glowing just beyond the curtains.

Tension washed out of him so fast it left him shaking. “Aniue.” Here, with the darkness pressing so close, Ryuuki didn’t want to hold back or bite his lip and bear it all. He kicked away the tangle of his covers and burrowed into his brother’s chest. Seien caught him with a soft, rueful sigh.

“All right, Ryuuki.” The usual, maddening formality dropped from Seien’s voice and he leaned back against the alcove wall and gathered Ryuuki close.

Ryuuki had to blink back wetness from his eyes, shivering a little with relief that Seien would be Seien for him, tonight, and hold him until the fear went away. He crept a little closer, almost into his brother’s lap and sighed as a strong, comforting hand petted his hair. Cold years melted away and left just the two of them, and the warm assurance of his brother’s touch.

“You should have someone stay with you, since she has other work, now,” Seien murmured. “Not those girls you spend time with, either,” he added, in a sharper tone. “Someone you can trust.”

“They did keep my secret,” Ryuuki offered, blushing a little with the pleasure of hearing that protective edge in his brother’s voice.

Seien tapped Ryuuki’s nose with a finger. “If they were interested in helping you, they’d have told you a little more about women and you wouldn’t keep making yourself so foolish in front of Shuurei.”

Ryuuki was blushing for real, now, half with embarrassment and half with sneaking enjoyment of Seien scolding him properly, the way an older brother should. “Oh.” He curled up against his brother’s shoulder, pensive. “I wish it could be you. I wish…” old pain and newer knowledge tangled in his heart and mind and he closed his eyes and whispered. “I wish it could have been you all along; instead of them.”

Seien’s hand on his hair stilled. “Ryuuki?”

Ryuuki looked up at the brilliant, beautiful older brother who had been first and only in his heart for so long. “You would have shown me. It would all have been right, with you.” It would have been safe and right and good, and not a string of masks the way it had been with all the other men and women in his bed.

After a long moment, Seien’s eyes softened and his palm cupped Ryuuki’s cheek, thumb stroking gently over his cheekbone. Ryuuki’s eyes widened.

“Seien-aniue?” Hesitantly, not sure he was reading that softness right, he reached up and touched Seien’s lips with his fingertips. “You… Would you?”

Seien looked down at him for a long breath, eyes dark, before he lifted Ryuuki’s chin and kissed him slowly. “If it’s what you want, Ryuuki,” he murmured against Ryuuki’s mouth.

Ryuuki relaxed against Seien’s chest, lightheaded with the feeling of being held and touched by the one person he knew, knew without a second’s question, he could trust absolutely. His voice shook a little with it. “Please.”

Seien’s arm tightened around him in answer, and his fingers threaded into Ryuuki’s hair, tipping his head back to deepen the kiss. A soft, wanting sound caught in Ryuuki’s throat as he opened his mouth for Seien. It was so good to be sheltered by this strength again. And Seien understood that, the way he understood everything, Ryuuki knew he did, because he held Ryuuki firm and close even as his other hand eased Ryuuki’s robe down his shoulder and Seien’s mouth moved down Ryuuki’s throat and over the bared skin. Heat threaded through him. “Ohhh…”

“Easy,” Seien murmured in his ear. “Ryuuki.”

Ryuuki shivered with the quick cascade of sensation as Seien brushed the robe off his other shoulder and it slid down to tangle softly around his arms, and the coolness of Ryuuki’s hair swept over his bare back in contrast to the warm strength of Seien’s hand sliding up it. “Seien-aniue,” he whispered, his own hands spreading against Seien’s chest.

Having cloth under his hands was starting to be annoying.

He looked up at Seien, pouting a bit just for effect, and tugged on the shirt. “Seien-aniue…”

Seien laughed, low and husky, and the sound was enough to make Ryuuki’s breath go a little faster. “You want to touch?” Seien set Ryuuki back a little and slid out of bed to stand beside it, smiling. Ryuuki’s lips parted soundlessly as sky-bright eyes captured and held him while Seien stripped off his clothes, not really hurrying about it. Ryuuki’s mouth was dry; the tiny quirk of his brother’s lips made his stomach do strange things. He reached out as Seien slid back onto the bed, wanting to follow the sweep of all that sleek, powerful muscle with his fingers. Seien gathered him back up, and this time his kiss turned Ryuuki’s bones to water. Ryuuki was perfectly happy to melt against Seien’s chest, now bare and warm, and let his brother take his mouth, one slow, wet kiss at a time.

“You’re warm,” Seien murmured to him. Ryuuki made an agreeing sound against Seien’s lips and then a more breathless one as Seien’s fingers slid down his back, under the robe still draped off Ryuuki’s arms, and between his cheeks. His brother’s lips curved.

“Oh… Seien-aniue…” Ryuuki let his head fall to Seien’s shoulder, panting softly against his brother’s neck as Seien’s fingers stroked him slow and gentle. It was really going to happen; Seien-aniue was really going to let him be this close.

“Ryuuki?” Seien’s tongue slid over Ryuuki’s ear making him shiver. “We need something…”

It took Ryuuki a few moments to gather his wits enough to point at one of the tiny alcoves behind the bed curtains. “The blue jar.”

Seien’s fingers pressed into him, slick and slow, and his breath turned into gasps; he was glad for the solidity of Seien’s shoulders under his hands, because he needed something to hold onto while his body stretched hot and open. Seien touched him gently until Ryuuki was draped against him, panting.

“Ready?” Seien finally asked, voice low but somehow not soft.

Ryuuki looked up at his brother, flushed, hearing a layer of darkness in his brother’s voice, deeper than he’d ever heard it while they were both children. This was Seien grown and fiercer, stronger—strong enough to hold and shelter even the Emperor, and that thought made his breath catch. Even he could hear the yearning in his voice when he whispered “Yes.”

Seien drew him closer, until Ryuuki was pressed against him, legs spread over his lap. Ryuuki shivered a little as Seien’s hands swept down his back, firm and slow, over his rear and down his thighs, pulling him closer still. It was exactly what he wanted. Seien’s lips moved down Ryuuki’s throat as his hands gripped Ryuuki’s rear and tilted his hips up until Ryuuki laughed and had to clasp his hands behind Seien’s neck to keep from falling backwards. The feeling of Seien’s mouth curving against his skin made heat curl in Ryuuki’s stomach.

“We could just lie down,” he suggested, breathless.

“Mm. I want to hold you, though.” Seien lifted his head to smile at Ryuuki, and Ryuuki softened helplessly in the warmth of it. In his brother’s arms was definitely one of the best possible places to be.

Seien shifted against him and Ryuuki stopped thinking and just felt as Seien pushed into him, slow and hard, hard enough to leave him gasping as his brother slid inside.

“Aniue!”

Seien’s hands moved up his back, strong and gentle, palms stroking and soothing. “All right?”

Ryuuki relaxed into the support of his brother’s hands, moaning. “Oh yes. Aniue…” It was so good to feel Seien this close, so right to be held this gently, this powerfully. Seien rocked against him and Ryuuki let himself go into the heat of his brother moving inside him.

Threads of memory twined themselves around the rush of sensation as Seien took him, so slow and sure: the straight stillness of his brother, standing beside the water; the sudden brilliance of his smile and the quick, warm pleasure, in Ryuuki’s chest, of having that smile shown to him—only to him; the way Seien’s swift, fierce grace with a sword could set Ryuuki trembling; the sweetness of his brother’s hand on his hair as he was folded into the safety of his brother’s arms.

With that last memory, past and present met and ran into each other, and the feeling of Seien’s fingers running through Ryuuki’s hair made him cry out, body drawing taut in his brother’s arms. Another thrust, strong and deep, and pleasure spilled over. Shudders of heat raked through Ryuuki’s body, and the low, rough sound of his brother’s voice, calling his name, made him so breathless with the joy of it all that he had to laugh.

The strength of Seien’s arms, drawing him in tighter, and the force of Seien’s last thrusts, were soothing. He was safe and cared for and held by the one person he knew loved him. He could relax.

For a while they just leaned against each other, breathing deep and slow, and Ryuuki thought he might never stop smiling. When his brother finally laid him back down against the sheets, Seien was smiling too.

“Think you can sleep now?” Seien asked, petting back Ryuuki’s hair.

“Yes.” The bubble of happiness in Ryuuki’s chest made him feel warm and peaceful. He reached up to touch Seien’s cheek. “Will you stay with me?” he begged.

Seien sighed, but he was still smiling as he placed a soft kiss on Ryuuki’s forehead. “Yes. I’ll stay the night.” He settled down beside Ryuuki and tucked him snuggly into the curve of Seien’s body. “Sleep, Ryuuki.”

Ryuuki obediently closed his eyes. “Yes, Aniue.”

Tonight, he was sure, his dreams would be good.

End

Last Modified: Jun 26, 09
Posted: Mar 01, 07
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Drown in your Blue Sea

Soubi’s pov when Seimei first claims him. Drama with Creepiness, I-5, spoilers vol. 8

Warning: Contains mutilation and very questionable consent.

Soubi was very confused. He had expected to be Sensei’s Fighter. What else had he been trained for?

This, apparently.

He listened as his Sacrifice spoke of butterflies, breath catching at the slow rip of the knife through his shirt. Reborn? Did his Sacrifice want him to become… something else?

He would do whatever his Sacrifice said, of course. That was the only way he could be a true Fighter. Sensei had taught him that. He figured it was even more important for a blank Fighter like him.

"Would you like it to hurt? Or would you rather it not hurt?"

Soubi groped for an answer. His Sacrifice’s eyes crinkled a bit, warmed.

"I think you would like it more if it hurt."

Was that what his Sacrifice wanted him to become? All right.

"Pain," Soubi murmured and tipped his head back for the point of Seimei’s knife to write his new name. "I want it to hurt. I like pain."

 

End

 

A/N: Raserei Hojo’s translation of this scene dialogue was used. Many thanks.

Last Modified: Jun 26, 09
Posted: Feb 14, 08
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7 readers sent Plaudits.

Comfort

Seiran helps Ryuuki relax from his responsibilities. Written for Porn Battle, with the prompt: Seiran/Ryuuki, Domination/submission, “If things had gone as they should…if Seien had been my Lord…” (Yes, it’s rather circular for me to write it; oh well.) Porn with Characterization, I-4, D/s

Notes: Contains consensual sibling incest.

Character(s): Shi Ryuuki, Shi Seiran
Pairing(s): Seiran/Ryuuki

By late afternoon, Ryuuki was drooping over his work. "Is it very bad of me to wish that Aniue had become Emperor instead of me?" he asked, mournfully.

Seiran looked up from the tea he had brought, laughing softly. "It isn’t bad of you." He tilted his head, hands stilling as he regarded Ryuuki thoughtfully. "Do you need to take a break?"

Ryuuki made a wistful noise and Seiran smiled. "Very well, then." He set aside the tea set and settled comfortably on the raised seat under the windows. Ryuuki’s eyes widened a little as his brother’s whole bearing changed, turning straight and open and confident, the way it had been years ago.

"Come here, Ryuuki." Seiran held his hand out, and the command in his voice made Ryuuki’s breath catch. He came, obediently, and laid his hand in his brother’s, kneeling on the seat beside him. Seiran smiled, slow and pleased, and pulled, and Ryuuki gasped as he was tumbled down into Seiran’s lap in a dishevelled sprawl.

"Aniue…"

"Stay right there," Seiran said softly, in his ear.

Ryuuki shivered and did as he was told, leaning against Seiran’s chest with his robe falling open over his parted legs. A moan caught in his throat as Seiran’s fingers slid over his bared thighs, stroking them further apart. He panted for breath, leaning his head on his brother’s shoulder as Seiran’s hands pulled his robes further open, baring more of him to be touched by sunlight and his brother. This was the way it should be. "If things had been the way they should," he whispered, "I would have served you. Obeyed you always."

Seiran’s lips curved, against Ryuuki’s throat. "You obey me now, little brother."

Ryuuki moaned again as Seiran’s hand closed on his cock, strong and knowing. It was the middle of the day and this was his outer room. Anyone might come and see him, spread out and disordered over Seiran’s lap and being fondled so openly. But Seiran’s order held him where he was as Seiran’s hand worked between his legs and heat curled through him.

And that was as it should be. For a little while, they could set the world right again.

Seien ruled him absolutely, and always would, and that was just the way Ryuuki liked it.

 

End

Last Modified: Feb 09, 12
Posted: Apr 11, 08
Name (optional):
bootoye, hannah and 4 other readers sent Plaudits.

If Only

Seiran can’t really help giving Ryuuki anything he needs. Second fic written for Porn Battle, with the prompt: Seiran/Ryuuki, Domination/submission, “If things had gone as they should…if Seien had been my Lord…” Porn with Fluff, I-4, D/s

Notes: Contains consensual sibling incest.

Character(s): Shi Ryuuki, Shi Seiran
Pairing(s): Seiran/Ryuuki

"Ryuuki? You shouldn’t be out here in nothing but a sleeping robe."

Ryuuki looked up from watching the dark water over the rail of the pavilion and had to smile. Seiran wasn’t wearing any more than he was. "Doesn’t that go for you, too?"

"I only came looking for you, not to stand out, contemplating the reflection of the moon." Seiran came to stand beside him, winding a warm arm around him.

"I just couldn’t sleep," Ryuuki murmured, leaning into his brother. "Do you ever think… what if everything had gone like it should?"

For a long moment there was no answer; when it came it made Ryuuki shiver because the voice beside him was Seien’s, sure and firm, the voice of a leader. "You rule well. Don’t doubt that."

Ryuuki ducked his head. "I don’t." At least not too often. "I just…" He turned, resting his hands against Seiran’s chest, head bowed. "I wish I could have seen you rule. Served you as my Emperor." Demonstrated, every day, what his brother meant to him.

"Ryuuki." Seiran’s voice was husky in the silvery dark. Intimate, and Ryuuki flushed a little to think that. He looked up with wide eyes as Seiran’s arm tightened around him, pulling him close.

"Aniue…"

Seiran’s hand cupped his cheek, thumb brushing over Ryuuki’s lips. "Be still."

A shiver of heat ran down Ryuuki’s spine and he swallowed, silent, as his brother ordered. He couldn’t help a small, breathless moan, though, as Seiran tipped his chin up and took thorough possession of his mouth. He could see Seiran was smiling as he drew back.

"Turn around."

A swift shudder ran through Ryuuki as he did, and found himself caught between a pillar of the pavilion and the breadth of Seiran’s chest against his back. Another shook him harder as Seiran’s hands moved slowly over his body, loosening his robe, sliding down his stomach to take him firmly in hand.

"Perhaps you can see enough, this way, to satisfy you," Seiran purred against Ryuuki’s bare shoulder, gathering Ryuuki’s robe up over his hips.

Ryuuki moaned, clinging to the pillar for support at the feeling of Seiran’s cock sliding between his cheeks. He made a wordless, entreating sound, flushed in the darkness.

"Stay there," Seiran commanded softly, stepping away toward the benches and the table with it’s unlit lamp. Ryuuki did as his brother said, breathless and heated as he stood exposed to the night breeze and his brother’s pleasure. And then Seiran was pressing against his back again, hands closing on Ryuuki’s hips, and his cock was pushing into Ryuuki, slick and hard and relentless.

Ryuuki moaned, unable to catch his breath as Seiran thrust into him again and again, strong hands holding Ryuuki still for it. The warmth of his brother’s body, caging him against the pillar, the coolness of the breeze on his bare skin, the heat of Seiran’s cock stretching him open and filling him over and over, they all twined together into pleasure that wrung him out mercilessly and left him panting. He made soft, pleading sounds as Seiran drove him up against the pillar harder, tiny shocks of heat still dancing down his nerves.

Seiran groaned against Ryuuki’s shoulder, his last thrusts so hard they made Ryuuki’s breath catch. Even once he stilled, he held Ryuuki in place, hands stroking over him. "Sometimes," he murmured at last, "I wish this could be all there was. Just you and me."

"Yes," Ryuuki whispered, husky and wanting.

Seiran’s arms closed around him, drawing him back snugly into the shelter of his brother’s chest. "Since we can’t have this all the time, remember that we can have it some of the time." He turned Ryuuki to face him and kissed him, slow and deep.

Ryuuki leaned into it, mouth open and soft under his brother’s. "Yes, Aniue."

 

End

Last Modified: Feb 09, 12
Posted: Apr 11, 08
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Experienced

Some years post-canon, Ciel wants Sebastian, the only one he can trust, to guide him through what sex is like. Written for Porn Battle with the prompt: Ciel/Sebastian, experience. Porn with Drama, I-4, post-canon

Warning: References to rape of a child.

Pairing(s): Ciel/Sebastian

I want to know what it’s like, Ciel had said. And that was how he’d come to be naked in his bed with Sebastian, every muscle of his body tense.

Sebastian’s hands moved over him patiently, soothing, stroking his limbs straight. Sebastian’s lowered eyes, the bend of his head as he kissed down Ciel’s chest, the lightness of his touch, all spoke eloquently of submission, of no threat, and still Ciel’s breath came fast and shallow.

Maybe it was the glimmer of amusement around the edges of Sebastian’s smile.

Or maybe it was the memory of other hands pawing him, but that was what he was here to get a grip on, and a flash of true respect had shown in Sebastian’s eyes when he’d asked. A shudder still ripped through him and he clenched his teeth on it.

"Shh," Sebastian murmured against his stomach. "There is nothing here that is not bound to your command. Nothing to fear, my master."

Sebastian had been calling him that all night. Ciel knew perfectly well why, and it did help, and it also annoyed him that he needed that reassurance and reminder that Sebastian was under his control. Which was probably also why Sebastian was doing it.

It was the reminder of his demon’s connoisseur taste for irony that finally relaxed him.

"Ah, there." Sebastian sounded both approving and entertained, and Ciel growled at him.

It turned to a gasp at the heat that closed around his cock, soft and wet. It was two breaths before he could even place the sensation as pleasure. "Sebastian!"

"Mmmm…" Sebastian’s hands slid over his hips, up his body, gentle and strong, and Ciel moaned softly at how good it felt to have the support as Sebastian’s mouth stroked over him and heat twined through him.

He watched, eyes heavy, as Sebastian wet his fingers from a jar he’d brought with him. "What’s that?"

Sebastian’s lips slid off him and he murmured, "Oil." He didn’t look up to see Ciel’s sudden blush, but he smiled anyway and pressed a kiss to the hollow of Ciel’s hip.

The return of Sebastian’s mouth to him was barely a distraction, and Ciel’s fingers were white knuckled where he gripped Sebastian’s arm and shoulder. Sebastian’s fingers were light, gentle, only stroking between his cheeks, but it took Ciel some time to really notice that. When he did, when he realized he could, he figured that was close enough to ready and gasped, "Go on."

Sebastian laughed low in his throat. "Gently." He took more oil on his fingers and stroked more firmly. "There is a rhythm to these things. The body tenses and then relaxes. One chooses the right moment." The instructional tone was familiar from years gone and grounded Ciel enough that he got a grip on himself and rolled his eyes. In that moment of ease, Sebastian’s fingers slid into him.

"You see?"

Gasping, eyes wide, Ciel tried to think of an appropriately bad name to call his butler, but the slow touch kept distracting him. "Ahh…"

Sebastian only smiled, stroking him slowly open until Ciel was flushed and panting, starting to yearn toward the pleasure he could feel gathering. "Sebastian…"

"Yes."

Ciel clung to Sebastian’s shoulders, gasping, shuddering, as Sebastian pressed slowly into him. It was heat and strain and he couldn’t identify it, couldn’t classify it, didn’t know what to do with it, even as Sebastian’s hand kneading his lower back eased him down into it.

"Talk to me," he whispered, rough. "Tell me… tell me about the other times you’ve done this." Anything to reassure him that Sebastian knew what he was doing.

Sebastian’s mouth curled. "There are too many other times to count," he said blithely, barely even breathless. "Demons use seduction frequently, after all. To tease and blind humans with pleasure until they walk all unknowing and perfectly happy to their end." He moved slowly inside Ciel, and heat started to curl towards pleasure. "I have little taste for that any more; it’s too easy. There’s no challenge in it for me. No desire to flavor the pleasure and make it last." He lifted Ciel up, easily, sliding into him deeper, and Ciel moaned softly. When Sebastian went on, his voice had turned lower. "But you, my master. I desire you. The power of your mortal soul after you’ve sharpened it on your will, I desire that. I cherish the waiting and the little tastes of you."

Sebastian’s eyes burned in the dim room, fixed on Ciel with a hunger and passion that made him even more breathless than the slick thrusts and the heat of Sebastian’s hand between his legs, and he reached up for Sebastian, whispering, "I want to taste, too."

Sebastian smiled like a knife and caught Ciel up, kissing him deep and hot. When Ciel kissed back, aggressive, tongue pushing past Sebastian’s, he made a low sound of pleasure, grip tightening on Ciel. Ciel bucked up into the hand on his cock, gasping, and moaned as Sebastian drove into him harder. This was right, this ruthless heat, and the hunger of his demon, unable to take him yet but savoring him anyway. That was the way to face the world and everything in it, and he let the rightness sweep him up, burn through him sweet and wild, groaning with how good it felt.

When he finally relaxed from that rush of pleasure, he was clinging tight to Sebastian, panting softly. His rear felt warm and just a little sore and Sebastian wasn’t inside him anymore.

"A rhythm to it," Sebastian repeated, mouth curling in that particularly self-satisfied smile that always made Ciel try to find an impossible task to ask for. "You aren’t ready for the refinements yet."

"You can show me later, then," Ciel stated, imperious as if he weren’t cradled naked and wrung out in Sebastian’s arms.

"As you command," Sebastian murmured, eyes glinting, and Ciel relaxed into their personal status quo. Sebastian leaned closer, though, and purred in his ear. "It will be my pleasure to taste your ruthlessness again, my master. You tempt as well as any demon."

Ciel blushed—they never paid each other direct compliments—and grumped at having blushed. "Go to sleep," he growled, settling himself down amid his pillows and butler.

The last thing he saw before the candles went out was the curve of Sebastian’s smile.

End

A/N: In RL terms, Ciel is doing something rather dangerous with the inside of his own head, here, and it only works because he’s Ciel and the inside of his head is a bit non-standard. Do not try this at home.

Last Modified: Feb 10, 12
Posted: Jul 23, 09
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Meredith, Fangirl~, order_of_chaos, Sorcha Rose (thatchaoticart), eevilalice, Lilian_Cho, fairlyironic, kurage and 23 other readers sent Plaudits.

Cat’s Cradle – Omake Two

An alternate way it could have gone, the first time Kazuki makes Yohan take a nap, supposing that Maiya didn’t show up until considerably later. Porn, Drama, light D/s I-4

Warning: Contains consensual sibling incest.

Yohan woke slowly.

He was warm, and the light through his eyelids was soft, and his pillow was a very odd shape… oh. That was right. Kazuki had made him sleep.

He rubbed his eyes and looked up, sleepily, and yes, his brother was looking down at him with a gentle smile and there were fingers stroking his hair back from his face. “Aniue.”

“Feel better now?” His brother leaned down to drop a kiss on his forehead.

Perhaps because he was still half asleep, impulse became action without thought and Yohan lifted his face so that the kiss met his mouth instead. Kazuki made a startled sound even as his hand cupped the back of Yohan’s head to steady him. “Yohan?” he murmured, drawing back.

Thought woke again, urging caution, but desire had woken also with that soft brush of lips, the same desire he’d fled rather than admit after their battle. But Kazuki was here now, in any case, and Yohan wanted so much. He leaned up on one hand, laying the other on his brother’s chest entreatingly. “Aniue… please?”

After a long moment Kazuki’s hand rose to curve around his jaw, lifting his chin, and Yohan couldn’t help the way his breath cut short in a rush of want. Slowly, watching him, his brother leaned down again to kiss him, gentle and easy, and Yohan leaned into the kiss, lips parting under Kazuki’s. The invitation was taken and Yohan made a soft sound, half hope and half pleading, as his brother’s kiss deepened.

He wanted this so much.

Kazuki reached out to gather him closer until Yohan was half lying against his chest, haori sliding down his shoulders. And pliant. Utterly pliant in his brother’s arms. When Kazuki’s hand urged his chin up further, Yohan let his head fall back, and when his brother’s lips traced down his bared throat he gasped, a shiver running down his body.

“Yohan,” Kazuki murmured, lips brushing his throat, “did you want me to take the clan back from you?”

It was the question and the desire he’d run from at the time, and it shook him now. “I don’t…” he whispered, voice taut with the arch of his neck. “There are so many things I want to do. To change. But…” His brother kissed his throat again and he gasped, shaking. “For now… just for now, please. Please, Aniue.”

He had been conquered, in that battle. Beyond technique and skill was the heart, and when the heart could no longer drive all skill failed. Kazuki had conquered his heart, and given no quarter. And in his brother’s conquest, he had tasted the sweetness of being guided and commanded by his brother’s will and love. The sweetness of belonging and shelter and rest.

“Please,” he begged, hands sliding up to cling to Kazuki’s shoulders. “Just for now…”

His brother’s fingers slid into his hair, cradling his head, and Kazuki kissed him, deep and intent. “Yes,” he said quietly. “For now, then.”

Yohan relaxed into the kiss with a sigh, surrendering to his brother’s care and guidance, and kissed back soft and open. Kazuki’s hands stroked down his arms, over his back, drawing him close and holding him, and Yohan moved with them willingly.

“Do you want more than this?” Kazuki murmured against his mouth, and Yohan flushed hot at the thought.

“Yes,” he breathed, and Kazuki smiled.

“We’ll need some place with a bed, then,” he said, low, holding Yohan against him. “Because I’m not going to lay you down on the bare tatami. And,” he added, “we need something to make it easier for you.”

Yohan made a breathless sound, shivering, and his brother laughed softly.

“Come, then.” He straightened Yohan’s clothes with gentle hands and pulled him to his feet. “Show me.”

Yohan led the way through the house to his bedroom, still flushed with the way Kazuki kept a hold of his hand, fingers twined through his. Once the door was closed behind them, Kazuki caught him close again, kissing him deep and slow, loosening his robes to slide them down his shoulders. He shivered at that, at the long, knowing fingers that traced over his bare shoulders and chest. “Aniue…” He couldn’t quite meet his brother’s eyes.

“So shy.” Kazuki took his chin and tipped it up again, holding his eyes. “There’s no need.”

The command in that simple gesture set Yohan trembling, and he swayed against his brother. “Yes, Aniue,” he whispered.

Kazuki kept him occupied with kisses as he pulled loose belts and ties until Yohan stood with all his robes in a heap around his feet. “Now, then.” He pushed Yohan gently down to the bed and stepped back, shedding his own clothes swift and graceful. The line of his body, as he returned to kneel over Yohan and press him down, made Yohan’s mouth dry; he knew his own strength was second to none, but the sheer grace of Kazuki’s movement stopped his breath. His brother’s hands stroked down his body, slow, and he shivered with the intensity of simply feeling that on his skin. Kazuki gathered him close, one hand supporting the curve of his back as he arched up helplessly into the sleek heat of Kazuki’s body against his.

"Shh," Kazuki murmured to him. "Now you need to trust me, and relax for me, little brother." One hand kneaded the small of Yohan’s back, easing the building tension in him, and Yohan obeyed with a shaky breath. He lay pliant against Kazuki’s chest as his brother searched through his bedside nook, and turned his face into Kazuki’s shoulder. He gasped at the first touch of warm, slick fingers, and Kazuki held him closer.

Those fingers circled his entrance, slow and gentle, until his breathing evened and his body relaxed, and it was his brother’s patience and care that made his face heat as much as the first slide of fingers inside him. "Aniue…"

"All right?" Kazuki asked softly, cradling him close. Yohan nodded, not looking up, and his brother chuckled. "All right, then." Still soft, but more commanding he added, "Look at me."

Yohan looked up, breathless, and moaned as his brother caught his mouth, kissing him hot and deep and intent. The answering heat in his body turned sharp as Kazuki’s fingers pressed in again and he gasped, trembling in his brother’s arms with the unexpected surge of pleasure.

Kazuki kissed Yohan again and again as his fingers moved in and out of him. The sensation of being touched inside made Yohan flush, and Kazuki worked him slowly until Yohan was moving with him, until they were twined tight together, and Yohan was kissing back and making wanton, pleading sounds low in his throat. He didn’t have to control himself; he knew his brother would judge their pace, would know when he was ready. All he had to do was surrender to Kazuki’s hands, and that was such an unspeakable relief that he was dizzy with it.

"Now," Kazuki murmured, finally. Yohan made a faint, protesting sound as Kazuki slid around behind him, but subsided, soothed, when his brother’s arm wound around him and drew him back snugly into the curve of Kazuki’s body. "It’s all right," Kazuki said softly in his ear as he guided Yohan’s leg up and forward, spreading him a little open. "I have you."

"Yes," Yohan agreed, low, and shivered at the feeling of Kazuki’s lips curving against his nape. And then Kazuki was pushing into him, and he was gasping, clutching the sheets as he was stretched, pushed open, filled. It was shocking. It was incredible. "Aniue!"

"Shh." Kazuki rocked just a little, in and out of him, holding him tight, and Yohan shuddered with the sensation. "All you have to do is follow. I’ll take care of everything." One hand stroked down Yohan’s stomach to close between his legs.

Yohan moaned with breathless submission to Kazuki’s word, and let his brother’s hands guide his body until he was spread out half on his stomach, gasping with each driving thrust, rocking into his brother’s strong hand. Kazuki took him slow and sure, until his nerves were singing like strings under a master’s touch. Pleasure wanted to speed ahead, but Kazuki’s touch held him back, let the heat build slowly, until Yohan was panting under it with an edge of desperation.

"If your heart needs someone to rule and protect you," Kazuki whispered against his ear, "remember that I’m still your elder brother." His mouth closed on Yohan’s neck and he sucked hard enough to raise tingling heat.

Hard enough to mark.

Yohan cried out as pleasure broke through him, a storm of heat striking again and again as his brother gasped against his shoulder and drove into him harder, faster. It was good, so good, to be held so tight, to feel Kazuki’s body over his, and he lay, panting, until Kazuki shuddered and stilled.

After a long moment, Kazuki kissed the back of his neck and eased them apart, turning Yohan gently and gathering him back into his arms. Kazuki stroked his hair and cradled him close. "It’s all right."

Yohan realized that his eyes were wet.

Kazuki kissed the tears away and rocked him slowly. "You are my beloved brother and I will always be here, to guide and support you in whatever way you need," he murmured.

Yohan’s breath hitched again and he nodded against Kazuki’s shoulder. It was a while before he could stop crying, though. Kazuki held him through it all and dried his face on a corner of the sheet. "Better?" he asked with a soft smile.

Yohan nodded; he did feel better, wrung out but at peace. "Thank you, Aniue," he said, husky.

Kazuki pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "Hush."

Yohan smiled shyly and did as he was told, and lay quiet and content in his brother’s arms as the evening drew in.

End

Last Modified: Feb 10, 12
Posted: Jun 14, 10
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Life Lessons

Knowing that you’re sending twelve-year-olds into the field to fight, what do you need to teach them before they go? And what do you do when it never seems to work? Sometimes Iruka has trouble with that second one. Drama, Angst, Fluff, I-5

Warning: Discusses aftermath of trauma.

Pairing(s): Kakashi/Iruka

Umino Iruka loved to teach. He really did. He’d taught at the Academy for years, and with every new class he felt again the wonder of shaping Konoha’s future through his students.

There were also weeks when he needed to remind himself of this strenuously to keep his hands from closing around their skinny, little necks.

“All right, everyone, settle down, Kiba tell Akamaru to let go of Ino’s bag. Today we’re talking about trauma-care within your team.”

“Aw, we’ve done first aid already,” Shikamaru grumbled, not quite under his breath.

“If you graduate and take on field jobs,” Iruka continued, as if he hadn’t heard, “there will come a time when you or one of your teammates will not be in their usual state of mind. You may have been in a fight and almost died. Your teammate may have been captured and tortured. It isn’t unusual to need people you know and trust around you, after something like that.”

“So, what, we’re supposed to pack along a teddy bear?” Kiba muttered and Naruto snickered. Iruka gave them his second-best glare and continued when they shut up.

“Your textbooks list several chakra techniques that may, if you develop the control for them, be used to soothe your teammate until competent medical help is available. We will be practicing those today. There are also three pressure point techniques that are safe for novices. We will practice those tomorrow.” Fortunately, the worst they could do to each other with those was fail; he made a mental note to ask Hinata not to demonstrate any more advanced techniques she might know from her clan’s teaching to her classmates.

“Wait a minute, you mean we have to, like, let someone touch us?” Ino protested with a look of distaste at her deskmate, Chouji. A wave of sniggering and blushing swept the class and Iruka braced himself. This was exactly why he hated this unit.

“That brings us to the third option discussed in this chapter,” he said, commanding himself sternly not to blush; teachers didn’t blush damn it. “There will not be a practical exercise for this option, but your homework for tonight is to write three pages on the possible signs that the third option is called for or appropriate. Some people respond to some kinds of trauma or threat with a need for sexual contact. We’ve already discussed, earlier this year, some differences between civilian attitudes toward sex and shinobi attitudes. Among shinobi it is both acceptable and appropriate to offer that contact to your teammates if you are able and willing to do so. This chapter covers some ways to determine whether one of your teammates needs that kind of contact.” The dead silence that had struck the room dissolved into squeals and whispers and exclamations. Sasuke, recipient of several rather predatory looks, drew even further in on himself than usual, and Naruto was making gagging faces with Shikamaru. Iruka soldiered grimly on.

“Recognizing the signs is extremely important, because it is equally common for a person to desire non-sexual contact with teammates after experiencing stress or trauma. No one who cannot demonstrate their knowledge of the signs listed in your textbooks will be passed for a field assignment, so pay attention to your reading and take good notes. Now.” He swept them with his very best glare to silence the whispering and giggling. “Everyone open your books to page seventy-two and start copying out the first seal.”

He sat down at his desk while the class settled into their usual restless order, books open, brushes moving.

“Naruto, stop trying to paint Shino’s jacket and work on the seal.”

"Aww…"

Sometimes moving the wrong places, but it looked like the work to fooling around ratio was about seven to three today, which was about as good as it ever got.

Ino passed a note over to Sakura and they both looked back at Sasuke and giggled, pink-cheeked.

Okay, maybe six to four. He sighed to himself. He really hated this unit. And talking about the homework tomorrow was going to be worse.


Iruka didn’t lift his head from his hands when the door to the teacher’s room opened and closed. Uncharacteristic inattention to surroundings, his memory recited, or unresponsiveness, especially if it appears deliberate.

“Iruka? Hey, you okay? What did the little monsters do to you today?” Shizuka’s voice came closer and was punctuated by a papery thump.

“Yeah,” he said, low, “it’s just that time of year again. That unit, you know.”

“Oh shit, I totally lost track of time! That’s this month?” Her steps went to the window and the vertical blinds rattled across them.

Ensure as much privacy as possible without obstructing exit routes. “Yeah.”

Her steps came back and the chair beside him scraped out. “Want to talk about it? Or just go get a drink?”

Offer verbal contact first, along with an alternative form of communication or connection if your teammate is unwilling or unable to speak.

Iruka took in a shaky breath and let it out. “They don’t know. They think it’s funny. Just like when we do the first aid unit, and the ones who have never broken anything laugh over the lesson on improvising splints. And next week we have to cover torture and rape recovery. Why do we try to teach them this so early?” Why did he have to go through this, trying and failing to reach them, year after year?

Shizuka sighed. “Sometimes I wonder too.” She touched his wrist lightly. “You want a hand with this?”

Do not attempt to answer questions. He could nearly see the letters on the page. Initial physical contact should be at a neutral location. (Caution: this may be influenced by your teammate’s specific experience.) He put his head down on his arms and laughed, rough and helpless. “You’d pass the test with flying colors,” he told her, husky. So many wouldn’t, not for real, not until it was real and that would be too late.

“Bad year, huh? Should I stay?” she asked him gently, “Or should I get that slacker Hatake in here for you?”

Your teammate may be unable to ask for contact. Offer several possible courses of action. Iruka bit his lip. After a moment he managed, quietly, “Door two?”

“You got it.” She squeezed his shoulders as she stood. “Just wait a little.” And she was gone. Shizuka was a good shinobi, and a good teacher, Iruka reflected. She cared. That was a hard quality to find sometimes, though he did his best to teach it to his students. It was always during this unit that he despaired of getting through to them. He knew that, he knew it was coming, and his failure hit him like this every year anyway.

“Yo.” A warm hand fell on the back of his neck and Iruka jumped, startled out of his drifting thoughts. “You look like a wreck. Who is it this year?”

Iruka’s muscles locked. Everyone knew; it would be someone. He’d fail some one of his students.

Over his head, Kakashi sighed quietly. “Come here.” He put a hand under Iruka’s arm and levered him up out of his chair, leading him over to the battered couch tucked in the corner for emergency naps. He thumped down onto it and pulled Iruka tight against his side.

And hooked a finger into his facemask, tugging it down.

“Kakashi-san,” Iruka said, rough, looking up at him, a little of the fear in him unwinding, letting him straighten. His old commander had always trusted him, and obviously still did.

“Who is it this year?” Kakashi demanded quietly, dark gaze level.

Iruka swallowed. “Hinata,” he whispered finally. “Hyuuga Hinata. If she’s ever taken I don’t know if there will be enough of her left to make it back. And…” he bit his lip.

Kakashi kneaded the back of his neck with a strong, calloused hand. “And?” he pressed.

“…Sasuke.” Iruka closed his eyes. “I can’t even say that he isn’t broken already. He should be! And all the boys can think is how they want to take him down a notch and all the girls can think is how cute he looks, and…” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Fuck.”

Kakashi smiled at that, startlingly clear without his mask. “Very eloquent.” He caught Iruka’s chin, making Iruka meet his eye. “You can’t do this for them. And that isn’t your fault, or your failure.”

There was no room for argument in his voice and Iruka leaned on that, trying to believe it. “I know,” he said, low, “I just—” he broke off because Kakashi had pressed two fingers to his lips.

“Enough.”

That was an order, and Iruka subsided. Kakashi had been his first commander after Iruka’s jounin-sensei had passed him, and Iruka knew, ruefully, he’d never quite gotten over that. Kakashi knew it, too, and had no qualms about using it. “I think you need some distraction,” Kakashi declared. “So, which will it be: do I get you drunk or do I take you to bed?”

Offer several possible courses of action Iruka’s teacher-memory reminded him, and he had to press his head against Kakashi’s shoulder while he laughed. This wasn’t exactly the textbook approach, but it worked. That was what the field always had to teach his students, and it would be no different for this. “How about both,” he decided.

“Taking shameless advantage,” Kakashi tsked mournfully. It wasn’t as effective when you could see the quirk to his lips. “Your place, then; I’m out of booze.”

“Speaking of taking shameless advantage,” Iruka said dryly, feeling a little more himself.

Kakashi smiled and tugged his facemask back up as he stood. “Have to keep my reputation up. Come on.”

Iruka followed him out the window and over the roofs, holding on to the calm he’d regained. He’d need it for next week. But that, as Kakashi would no doubt tell him, and scold him for forgetting, was what a person’s team was for. They would learn, his students. He would do what he could and life would do the rest.

And they’d all live with that, however they could.

End

Last Modified: May 10, 12
Posted: Jul 29, 11
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Katharinoe, Theodosia21, down, tucuxi, TangoAlpha, Talyssa, deathgeonous, bookfanatic, Silver Magiccraft (silver_magiccraft), p3x, ganima, starr_falling, Icka M Chif (mischif) and 23 other readers sent Plaudits.

(Not) Limited by Blood

This is the story otherwise known as "The Role of the Sharingan in Sex and Endogamous Bonding and Incidentally Kakashi’s Massive Control Issues". I’m really not sure I can summarize it better than that. Written for the Porn Battle prompt: Kakashi/Sasuke, teacher. Porn with Characterization and Worldbuilding, I-4

Warning: clan endogamy may result in incest-y vibes for some.

Pairing(s): Kakashi/Sasuke

Look, I never claimed to be in control of the bunnies I get from this fandom.

This takes place when Sasuke et. al. are about 19.

Sasuke stood out on one of the curving verandas that every building in Tanigakure seemed to have and wondered distantly how soon he could get out of here. He pressed his forehead against one of the veranda’s smooth wooden posts and closed his eyes, breathing in the faint, rising cool of the river flowing through the bottom of the valley. He wanted to be gone from this place.

Not because Hidden Valley was a trial to stay in or anything. It was a pleasant village, and if the sloping sides of a deep gorge seemed like a precarious place to build a village, at least the floor and lip of the valley were thick enough with trees to make him feel at home.

Not because the mission was going badly. It was going fine from what he could see. Valley’s council had agreed to relax the border controls between River and Fire countries, to allow larger groups of Leaf shinobi across as long as they presented proper notice of their mission at the border, instead of having to wait for approval from the village. The Master of Valley even seemed a bit charmed by Kakashi, and even her most uptight councilors seemed to approve of Sasuke.

Oh yes. Sasuke knew why the Fifth had sent him along. Over half the council were members of the Yasumori clan, and Yasumori was a clan like Hyuuga, like Uchiha had been—old and dignified. The longer he was here, the more Sasuke found himself falling back into old habits, found formalities coming easily to his lips, found himself reading at a glance the little indications of clan politics, of who was supporting or feuding with whom. It was exactly what Kakashi needed as he dealt with the Yasumori, so here Sasuke was.

And it hurt.

Every time he bowed at just that angle that said he was a son of the senior branch; every time one of the Yasumori unthinkingly cleared the way for him in response; every time he recognized the tiny grimace that said Yasumori Koujirou really wanted to disagree with Yasumori Michiru no matter what their clan head had told them about solidarity in front of outsiders; every time he saw those things and looked by reflex for familiar eyes, eyes like his, and found only the green and hazel of Yasumori, it hurt.

Maybe it would have been better if Naruto or Sakura had been along on this mission. Maybe they would have been able to remind him that he was someone else, now, building a new clan and not the son of an old one. Maybe that would only have made it worse; he didn’t know. All he knew was that he thought he might give his soul to look into eyes like his own tonight, and the last of those in the world were both traitor and dead.

“Sasuke?”

Kakashi’s voice startled him, but he stifled a flinch (because a noble didn’t show his reactions like that) and raised his head. It was starting to get dark and his teacher was a shadow in the cool dimness under the veranda roof. “Is there a meeting?” he asked steadily.

Kakashi’s visible brow quirked just a bit. “No meeting. And it looks like that’s just as well.”

Sasuke flushed. He should be concealing his hurt better than that. “I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “It’s just…” He bit off the explanation.

“Hm.” Kakashi came to lean silently on the veranda rail beside him, looking down over the curved roofs below them, fading away into the gorge as dusk fell. Only a few lamps had come on, yet, to re-trace the outlines of the village. It was quiet here where the guest houses stood, and the soft rush of the river below blended with the murmur of people a handful of steep, wooden streets away. “It’s just what?” Kakashi asked, just as Sasuke was relaxing again.

“Familiar.” It slipped out without thought, and Sasuke gave his teacher a quick glower for getting that out of him.

“I did wonder about that,” Kakashi murmured, not minding the glare at all which was just typical. “Unfortunately, I was the only jounin free to send on this one and you were the only noble of a senior branch free to come. At least the only one I could trust to tell me all I need to know.”

That confidence in him warmed and hurt, both. “I’ll be fine,” Sasuke repeated, with determination if not quite as much surety as he’d have liked.

“Hmmm.”

Sasuke stiffened at first, but the sound wasn’t doubtful; just thoughtful. Of course, that wasn’t any less alarming for anyone who knew Hatake Kakashi.

Even knowing that, though, he wasn’t prepared for Kakashi to straighten and casually push up his forehead protector, looking down at Sasuke with his Sharingan uncovered. After days on end of furiously suppressing his desire for his own clan, the reminder that there was another Leaf shinobi with Uchiha eyes hit Sasuke like a fist in the gut and stopped his breath just as surely.

“I wondered,” Kakashi repeated quietly, and lifted a hand to rest on Sasuke’s shoulder, warm and sure, just holding him.

Sasuke caught his breath again in a deep gasp, and a confusion of words and thoughts tumbled up to his lips. “Sensei… I mean, senpai… I… Kakashi-san…” In his heart it was none of those, but he didn’t dare say it. It would be too much.

Kakashi’s hand tightened, strong and reassuring, and the tangle of want in Sasuke was joined by a simpler, more familiar heat that made his breath hitch a little. He swayed forward before he caught himself, uncertain. He thought Kakashi smiled just a little behind his mask, and a thumb stroked up and down his neck gently.

“It’s all right,” Kakashi told him, soft as the deepening dusk. “You’re my team here, Sasuke; you know I’ll take care of you.” And then Sasuke just had to stand and stare, because he hooked a finger over the edge of his mask and slid it down.

When they’d all been younger, his team had schemed wildly to get a glimpse of their teacher’s face. As they’d gotten older, Sasuke had come to understand there was no great mystery, only an entrenched habit of concealment; and he could understand that perfectly well, and had stopped trying to get past it. And now here it was, set aside for him just as easily as this. It was the simplicity of it that let the heart-deep words slip out as Sasuke leaned closer, hands coming up to Kakashi’s chest, the way he would have called any of the older cousins.

“Kakashi-niisan.”

His teacher smiled, a startlingly clear curve of firm lips. “Yes.” He tipped Sasuke’s chin up and kissed him, slow and easy, watching him with that half-lidded red eye, and Sasuke’s heart turned over and sped up. There were things he’d never had the chance to learn but had still heard about; things about how the sight of the Sharingan could be used in bed. The way Kakashi’s tongue stroked over his and swept through his mouth made him wonder if it had all been true, because before long he was clinging to his teacher’s shoulders and panting for breath thanks to that slow, wet slide.

The street lamp outside their guest house came on, casting the fineness of Kakashi’s profile into relief as he finally drew back, making the silver of his hair shine as he tilted his head toward the door. “I think this is better carried on inside, hm?”

Sasuke swallowed and murmured, husky, “Yes, Kakashi-niisan.” He expected Kakashi to turn the lights on when the door closed behind him, but the room stayed fully dark, and Sasuke’s eyes widened as he understood. He took a breath and activated his own Sharingan, and a flash of hope and excitement ran through him as the shapes of the room faded into his sight, dim against the shifting brightness of Kakashi. The thought of having an older clanmate again (kind of; close enough!) to guide and teach him made him shiver—hard enough that, when Kakashi held out his hands, Sasuke stumbled going to meet him. It had been so long.

He was caught and pulled close against the heat of Kakashi’s body, feeling it and seeing it, and when Kakashi’s hand slid down his back to just the right place to support him he knew he was being seen the same way. “Please,” he whispered, and lifted his face to meet Kakashi’s mouth on his.

Their clothes ended up scattered across the room, a vest flung over one chair, Sasuke’s shirt dropped onto the low table, Kakashi’s pants kicked into the corner, and when Sasuke finally got to feel the the sleek heat of Kakashi’s skin against his own he moaned. He could see every shift of response in Kakashi’s chakra as his hands traced over the solid muscle of his teacher’s back and shoulders, and knowing he was just as bare to Kakashi’s eyes, to his Sharingan, was enough all by itself to make him hard.

And it wasn’t all by itself.

Sasuke came up onto his toes, body arching helplessly taut as one strong hand closed between his legs and calloused fingers stroked his cock knowingly. “Kakashi-niisan,” he gasped, wanting, almost pleading, and Kakashi’s fingers tightened as he caught Sasuke’s mouth in another kiss, deep and hard. Sasuke lost it all in a second, coming with a strangled groan as heat wrung him out fiercely, over and over, until he was leaning against Kakashi and gasping for breath. “Wha…”

“Mm. Now maybe we can take it a little slower,” Kakashi-san murmured against his ear, and Sasuke could hear the smile in his voice, see it in the shift of his chakra. He was sure his hot blush was just as visible, and felt the vibration of his teacher’s chuckle through the broad chest he rested against.

“Yes, Kakashi-niisan,” Sasuke managed, a little embarrassed and a little delighted with the teasing. It felt good, intimate and casual and like clan.

He let Kakashi guide him down to the bed, watching the tight, patient coil of his teacher’s chakra, the focus of it. That focus was in the hands that slid down his body, slow and sure, spreading his thighs until he gasped, kneading the drawn muscles of his stomach until they relaxed into heat, cupping his ass and squeezing just once, hard enough to make him moan. He reached back, for once a little shy next to his teacher’s experience, watching with the clarity of the Sharingan and the dizziness of the heat in him to see what Kakashi liked, what his chakra brightened for. He trailed his hands down Kakashi’s chest to stroke lightly over his cock and was answered by a low sound and swift downward shift of chakra. That gave him an idea, and he licked his lips.

“Kakashi-niisan? Can I…?” He slid his fingers down the length of Kakashi’s cock.

After one still moment, Kakashi’s fingers slid through his hair and tipped his head back for a slow kiss. “Yes,” Kakashi murmured into his mouth.

Kakashi’s hand slid through his hair as he settled between Kakashi’s legs, and Sasuke leaned into his fingers. That made the coiled lines of Kakashi’s chakra ease before Sasuke even touched him, and fresh heat curled through Sasuke. If his teacher wanted to guide him in this, too…

“Kakashi-niisan.” He rested his cheek against Kakashi’s thigh, looking up at him. “Will you show me?”

“Show you?” Long fingers stroked lightly through his hair again, and Kakashi’s voice sounded perfectly casual, but his chakra was still flowing in tight, poised lines.

“How to do this for you.”

For one instant, Kakashi’s chakra coiled even tighter, as if he hadn’t expected Sasuke to see what he wanted. But then it relaxed all at once, spread out into the soft edges of acceptance. The flicker in it matched the flash of wry amusement in Kakashi’s voice. “Yes. I think that will do. For both of us.”

Kakashi’s hand slid down to cup Sasuke’s cheek and guide him down, and the heat in Sasuke’s stomach turned heavier. He opened his mouth and slid his lips down Kakashi’s cock, and moaned as Kakashi’s other hand wove into his hair. This was good. He gave himself up to the signs of Kakashi’s hand against his head, of the long fingers wrapped around his jaw, of the flow and flare of Kakashi’s chakra, moving as he was shown until the thickness of Kakashi’s cock was sliding in and out of his mouth, over his tongue, slow and steady.

And Kakashi was careful with him. Didn’t press him down too far. Kept his hands gentle, even as his breath was coming faster and deeper and his chakra was falling and brightening. It was good, good to feel that, good to trust it, good to watch that sharp, red eye on him in the darkness and know he was being seen by kin, by clan.

(Close enough!)

And then Kakashi’s hand was sliding under his chin, lifting his head. “Enough,” his teacher said, husky. “Come here.”

Sasuke slid back up Kakashi’s body and was caught tight against him, kissed hard as he wrapped his arms around Kakashi’s solid shoulders. The room spun as Kakashi turned them, laid him down, but that was all right because Kakashi’s chakra was steady, a stable anchor like Kakashi’s weight over him. The rush of heat as strong hands slid down his thighs and caught his knees to spread him wide open, so wide, drowned his thoughts and he moaned openly, pinned down under Kakashi’s gaze.

“Mmm.” It was a satisfied sound. “I thought this might do for both of us, yes.” Kakashi’s smile was clear. “Well, since my hands are busy, why don’t you get me ready, Sasuke?” he teased. “I think your vest is by the bed.”

Sasuke flailed wordlessly for his vest and fished in the inner pockets. Knife oil, muscle salve, no, ah there it was. He slicked his fingers with gel and reached down to slide them over Kakashi, completely unable to help the soft moan when he thought about the cock in his hands sliding inside him.

Knowing Kakashi, that was probably the idea.

And his breath cut short again as Kakashi’s eye on him sharpened. “Now,” Kakashi told him softly, and Sasuke grabbed for his arms, fingers closing tight as Kakashi’s cock pressed against him, into him. Slowly. Very slowly.

“It’s all right, Sasuke,” Kakashi murmured to him as he gasped. “I see you. I’ve got you.”

Shudders were running through him under Kakashi’s hands. The stretch of it was hard, just on the edge of too hard but never past it, because Kakashi was seeing him, every flicker of response in his body and chakra, and that had Sasuke making little moans of want, low in his throat. The thick slide opening him just kept going; as soon as Kakashi was all the way in he was drawing back again, smooth and slow, never pausing, fucking Sasuke so steadily that he was half out of his mind with the rush of sensation.

And it just kept going.

His throat was dry with panting for breath he never caught, and his legs were trembling in Kakashi’s hold, and it took him forever to even think to free one hand from their frantic grip on Kakashi’s shoulders and reach down to fist around his own cock. Kakashi made a husky sound at that, and thrust into him harder, and Sasuke’s stroke tightened at the rush of heat. “Kakashi-niisan,” he whispered, pleading.

“Look at me, Sasuke,” Kakashi ordered, velvety in the darkness, and Sasuke looked up to meet the intent eyes above him, caught by that familiar red, focusing his own gaze on it.

And it changed, spinning into the scythe wheel of Kakashi’s Mangekyou Sharingan, the deepest power of their clan.

Response slammed through Sasuke like a wave crashing up the shore and he groaned as fire flashed down every nerve and wrung him fiercely until he was breathless, senseless, aware of nothing but heat and the eye that locked his gaze. His body was wringing down so hard he was barely aware of Kakashi driving into him deep and fast, but he saw the answering brightness flash through Kakashi’s chakra, spilling through like a waterfall. Pleasure sang through him until he thought he might break before it peaked and dimmed slowly with the ebb of their chakra.

They were both still for a long moment before Kakashi gently eased Sasuke’s legs down to the bed again and stretched out, drawing him close. Sasuke lay quietly against him, feeling completely limp and more at peace than he’d been since they took this mission.

“It’s true, you know.”

Sasuke made an inquiring sound, and Kakashi’s hand came up to cradle his head against Kakashi’s shoulder, careful and tender.

“For the sake of Obito’s gift to me, I was affiliated with the Uchiha. There was no other lawful way to respect his wishes. I never claimed anything of the clan, but the fact remains.” His thumb rubbed slowly up and down the tendons of Sasuke’s neck as Sasuke stiffened, mind blank. “You know who your family is now, Sasuke. But if you need clan, too… remember it’s here.”

Sasuke wrapped his arms tight around Kakashi’s chest and whispered against his shoulder, “All right.”

It was a shock. And yet it wasn’t. He’d never suspected it was official, but Kakashi was his teacher, the one he went to when he’d found something new in the clan records, the one who understood what the Sharingan saw and did. The one who had held him and seen him tonight, the way one of his clan would have if there had been time. Sasuke let his breath out and edged closer on the bed.

Kakashi relaxed too, and his lips brushed over Sasuke’s forehead, and Sasuke settled into his teacher’s arms as easily as he would into any of his kin’s.

End

Last Modified: Feb 06, 12
Posted: Jul 31, 11
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