Kink

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Branch

All kinds of kink.

Ink Burns

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

This is a work of fanfiction, produced according to the principles of transformative fair use as put forward in US copyright law, and abiding by the custom and practice of fan-produced work in Japan, where the source texts were created. No author is in any way affiliated with any of the creators of the source texts, nor with the companies who distribute their products, nor any other rights holder, and these stories were not authorized by either the creators or the producers. Ink Burns is a fan site and the material here is freely provided for the enjoyment of fellow fan-community members; there is no commercial infringement.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 US license at the Ink Burns fanfiction archive (http://www.branchandroot.net/archive/).

"Excuse" published on 2004-05-25 20:58:10.

"Tools of Persuasion" published on 2010-02-06 17:22:56.

"Like Chile on the Tongue" published on 2010-04-11 22:02:46.

"A Love for Living Dangerously" published on 2010-12-29 22:10:59.

"Vantage Point" published on 2011-01-27 22:18:25.

"Say Nothing and Close Your Eyes" published on 2011-11-23 12:43:11.

"Crossing Every Boundary Line Between Earth and Sky" published on 2012-02-01 12:20:51.

"Silence That Is Incomprehensible" published on 2011-11-16 13:20:33.

"The One Who Fashions You on the Outside" published on 2011-11-23 12:45:44.

"Strength in Trembling" published on 2012-01-04 14:00:54.

"The Name of the Sound" published on 2012-01-18 11:46:27.

"Bright-line" published on 2012-10-17 12:40:16.

"Reach Out and Touch Yourself" published on 2012-10-24 12:34:59.

"Trust in the Palm of Your Hand" published on 2012-10-31 17:36:56.

"A Good, Free, and Unconstrained Will" published on 2012-11-07 11:52:24.

"Heads or Tails" published on 2014-04-11 10:40:27.

"Ring Led" published on 2014-04-15 17:11:23.

"Fitting to the Crime" published on 2014-05-08 10:12:36.

"Flirting With..." published on 2015-05-02 11:41:35.

Attributions can be made by author's name and a link to the archive.

This ebook edition was published on September 6, 2019 by the Ink Burns fanfiction archive.

Cover illustration is .

Cover design by Branch.

Excuse

This was a gift-fic for moumusu, and a bribe to get her to draw a large, clean... er, uncluttered version of this picture. Note that the picture is decidedly NC-17 (Ed/Roy, light bondage). All those "mustang" and "ride 'em cowboy" jokes finally came to this: Ed ties Roy up to have sex in Roy's office. Porn, porn, nothing but porn. Porn with Insights, Bondage, I-4

Roy didn't tense until he felt Edward fingering the cuff of his glove.

Well, all right, perhaps he had started when the first loop of rope dropped around him and tightened. Edward really was getting very good at moving quietly, and he'd managed to genuinely surprise Roy this time. Enough that he'd caught Roy's wrists behind his back as well as his arms against his sides. But none of that actually made Roy nervous.

When Ed stroked a finger down the inside of Roy's wrist, catching the edge of his glove, that was when a twist of anxiety coiled through him.

Behind him, Edward laughed.

"Relax," he said against Roy's neck, "I know better than that."

Reassured that Edward was not going to test the limits today, Roy did relax, only balking when Edward nudged him toward the couch.

"I just had the couch cleaned," he protested.

"When it was the floor you complained about rug burned knees," Ed pointed out. "Deal with it."

Roy heaved a slightly dramatic sigh, but didn't object when Ed overbalanced him onto the couch. In fact, he managed to roll with the fall and make a fairly graceful landing, considering. Mild attempts at discomfiting each other were all part of the dance between he and Edward on these occasions. It amused Roy to no end that they both worked so hard to maintain dignity as long as possible when going about something as basically undignified as Ed tying him up so they could have wild sex in his office.

In keeping with that part of the agenda, Ed assumed a judicious expression as he arranged Roy on his knees on the couch. Not that he wasn't actually quite considerate, supplying Roy's lost balance as he pressed Roy's shoulders down, and tucking a pillow under Roy's cheek. Edward's hands were light and careful as they unfastened Roy's pants and slid them down.

Ed's hand slipped up the inside of Roy's thigh, and now Roy felt the loosening inside him, the deep shudder of relaxation that was the reason he did this. The reason he didn't snap his fingers and burn through the rope.

And then Edward got off the couch.

Roy's eyes snapped open to see Edward grinning down at him. Roy growled, and shifted, seeking some not totally undignified way to get off the couch again and pounce on his smirking lover. There really didn't seem to be any.

"No, no, don't bother yourself," Ed told him, lightly, "I'll be back before you know it." Roy growled again, and then gasped as Ed ran his cool metal fingers over Roy's bared skin, circling, pressing in hard, once, before retreating.

"Tease," Roy accused, breathless, as Ed stepped back.

"I learned from the best," Edward noted. As if to emphasize that fact he proceeded to strip off every last bit of his own clothing. Slowly. On another day Roy would have taken an act like this as an invitation, and it would have most likely ended rather abruptly, with Edward bent over the desk. Today it was Roy bent over, wanting to feel Ed inside him, but a coherent corner of Roy's mind appreciated the irony that their relative states of undress were unchanged.

Now completely naked, Edward sauntered around Roy's desk to fetch the oil Roy kept there before he finally came back to the couch. Anticipation heightened Roy's senses, now that he couldn't see Ed, the constriction of his thoroughly bound arms sending a tingling drench of adrenaline down his nerves. The heat of Ed's body against the backs of his thighs made Roy shiver, and he spread his knees a little further, coaxing Ed with his openness. He muffled a groan in the pillow when Ed rubbed a slick thumb, teasingly, against his entrance.

"Ed," he whispered, body melting under the touch he was unable to rock back against.

Roy wasn't sure Edward knew it, but he enjoyed it a great deal when Ed set the pace. Edward had a fine sense of how long to tease, how to touch and sooth, to get Roy to willingly abandon his reserve. Ed enjoyed it too, of course, and hence the whole song and dance with the rope, which Edward said kept Roy from distracting him.

Even without it Roy wasn't sure he'd be able to distract Ed now, not with Ed's hand between his legs and Ed's tongue drawing designs over the base of his spine. But, since it was there, Roy let himself twist against it, let his wrists tug against it, and added that touch to Edward's. As Ed's teeth nipped gently, Roy moaned.

"Ed..."

"Hmm?" Ed murmured against his skin.

"...ride me," Roy breathed. He heard the intake of Ed's breath, and felt Ed shift behind him, leaning over him, and then, finally, Ed was pressing into him.

Roy panted against the pillow, not bothering with either dignity or quiet any longer as Ed fucked him. This was what he had wanted from the moment he identified that first loop of rope and declined to burn it, preferring the heat of Ed's fast thrusts into his raised ass. Roy treasured Ed's rhythm, his enthusiasm, his willingness to ignore Roy's rank and reputation, to bend him over on his own couch and ride him hard.

Roy moaned as Ed's hand closed around his length, fingers sliding down him, demanding, and Roy couldn't have kept from answering that demand if he'd wanted to. Fire raced through his veins and wrung a rough sound out of him, flung him outward and left him floating as Ed's movement inside him peaked and slowed. Ed's weight rested over his back for a minute before Ed sighed and tugged the rope loose.

Roy slid into a boneless sprawl, content enough to only make a small face at the wet spot.

"I should take the upholstery cleaners' fee out of your stipend," he told the young man now stretched out on top of him. Ed snorted. "And I've been meaning to ask, who taught you to make knots like that?" Roy added after a moment, observing that the rope had fallen away from him completely with that one tug.

Ed snickered.

"I'll never tell. It couldn't help but affect one of your valuable working relationships."

Roy considered how Edward had phrased himself, and looked at him sternly. Well, as sternly as it was possible to look at his lover who had just finished fucking him senseless. Which, to judge by Edward's smirk, wasn't very. Edward really was picking up some very bad habits.

"And just what bribe do you want," he asked dryly, "to spare me having to guess about everyone I work with?"

"Let me think about that for a while," Ed replied, with a downright feline smile.

Some very bad habits, Roy reflected. If only he could blame this on Hughes. Unfortunately, he'd seen that smile in the mirror before. Ah, well. There were certainly compensations.

He leaned up to steal a kiss.

Tools of Persuasion

Unadulterated kinky porn featuring bondage, object penetration and spanking. Hibari decides to fuck Dino a little differently than usual. Written for the Porn Battle prompt: Hibari/Dino, Dino's whip. Porn, I-4

Dino moaned a little, low in his throat, as Kyouya pushed his knees wider against the cool, rumpled sheets. Tonight promised to be something special.

He was used to Kyouya tying him up, of course. His tie, Kyouya's tie, a handy belt, they all brought the same glint to Kyouya's eye and Dino quite enjoyed the results of that glint. Tonight, though, after Kyouya stripped off their clothes with as much disregard for lost buttons as ever, he had turned Dino face down and tied his hands to the top of his bed with his own whip. With the pillows shoved under his hips and Kyouya's knees holding his spread wide he could barely move. And Kyouya was taking his time, now, hands kneading Dino's ass, spreading his cheeks wide, one thumb rubbing hard and slow against his entrance.

Kyouya only took his time about anything when he was savoring some particularly telling move.

"Mm, Kyouya..." Dino gasped and jerked as two long fingers pushed deep into him, slick and swift. And he was very glad Kyouya had taken the time to pad where the leather of the whip crossed his wrists, even if Dino was pretty sure he'd used Dino's own shirt to do it, because he couldn't help tugging as Kyouya's fingers worked him open until they were plunging in and out of his ass quick and hard. Dino tried to push his ass up higher, to get more, but Kyouya had him too strategically pinned, and just laughed

That was Kyouya all over. Dino did love the evil little bastard.

He made a protesting sound, though, when Kyouya's fingers slowed and slid free; he really hoped Kyouya wasn't going to tease him tonight.

"What?" Kyouya purred, and the wicked lilt to his voice made Dino shiver. "Don't you want this?"

The cool hardness of metal slid between Dino's cheeks, a long shaft of it, and Dino's eyes widened. "Kyouya...! Are you serious?" That couldn't really be...

Kyouya made a thoughtful sound as the metal slid back and forth and back until a rounded end teased against Dino's entrance. "I don't generally like the round tonfa shape, but I suppose they do have their uses in," he paused delicately and nudged the end just barely into Dino's ass, "special circumstances."

Dino moaned helplessly, pulled taut between the whip and the tonfa, and again, louder, as Kyouya slid that smooth, heavy shaft deeper into him. "Oh... oh fuck, Kyouya..."

"Indeed," Kyouya murmured. He pulled the tonfa back and pushed it in again until his knuckles around the handle pressed against Dino's ass. And again. And again. And Dino was gasping, moaning wordlessly with each thrust, because he could see it in his mind's eye, the faint smile that must be on Kyouya's face as he knelt behind Dino and drove the tonfa into Dino's ass just like he drove it into Dino's stomach when they fought, fucking Dino relentlessly on his weapon. The hardness of the steel and the way Kyouya's fist pushed Dino's cheeks apart on every stroke pulled whimpers out of his throat and he spread his knees even wider, begging for more.

"Mmm." Yes, there was that smile in Kyouya's voice. "You look good like this. Maybe," he leaned down to purr in Dino's ear, "maybe next time we fight I should do this just as soon as I win."

Heat shuddered down Dino's spine at the thought, and burst between his legs, and he groaned into the sheets as orgasm ripped through him and wrung him out around the steel shaft Kyouya drove deeper into his ass, fucking Dino short and hard until he sagged against the pillows and his bonds, panting.

"Holy fuck," Dino managed eventually.

"I'm flattered," Kyouya murmured and nipped at his ear.

"Almost enough to make a man lose on purpose," Dino said, laughing a little. He yelped as Kyouya bit down harder.

"Don't even think it," he growled.

"I said almost." Dino wriggled a little. "So, um. Think you can untie me, now?"

Kyouya didn't growl any more, and reached up to untie the whip, and Dino thought he'd gotten off lightly for the on-purpose crack. Until, that is, Kyouya pulled his hands together at the small of his back and held them there. "Now that you're warmed up," and, yes, the growl was still in his voice, hotter and lower, "I'm sure you can take something more... serious."

Dino grinned into the sheets for a moment before the hard stretch of Kyouya's cock pushing right into his ass made him moan again.

Sometimes he loved being the only one who really knew how to handle Kyouya.

End

Bonus AU ending:

"Almost enough to make a man lose on purpose," Dino said, laughing a little.

He yelped as Kyouya swatted him on the ass.

"Don't even think it," Kyouya growled.

"I said almost." Dino added, in a thoughtful tone, "It is awfully tempting sometimes, though..."

Kyouya's growl turned lower and hotter, and Dino grinned into the sheets for a moment before Kyouya's hand came down again and the quick sting across his ass made him moan. This time Kyouya wasn't stopping either, which, he had to admit, had kind of been the idea. Hot as it was to be tied up and fucked after he lost a round, it was sometimes even hotter to be tied up and spanked. By the head of the disciplinary committee, no less. Once he'd even convinced Kyouya to take him to the Namimori prefect's room and spank him on the couch there for old time's sake, bent over Kyouya's knees behind the locked door.

Dino had come to terms years ago with being kinky when it came to Kyouya.

He arched his back a little as Kyouya's hand smacked down sharply, again and again, pushing his ass up higher to take it. It made Kyouya purr with satisfaction, and his spanking turned slower, harder, more deliberate, making Dino's whole ass heat and throb. He knew it was probably turning pink under Kyouya's hand—Kyouya liked to see that and Dino liked feeling his ass burn for a while after.

The last smack was hard enough to make him grunt, bucking under it, and then he had to moan, shuddering, as Kyouya's hand slid down his ass and between his legs, palming his cock.

"Now that you're warmed up," Kyouya murmured, other hand rubbing slickly between his hot cheeks, "I think it's time we did this for real."

Dino sucked in a breath and gasped as Kyouya's cock pushed into him, so thick and hard it stole his voice.

Sometimes he loved being the only one who really knew how to handle Kyouya.

End

Like Chile on the Tongue

Xanxus likes being on top. Adult! Part of the Fem!Xanxus branch of Choice. Genderswap, pegging, overtones of D/s. Filthy, filthy smut. Like, seriously, I think this is the porniest thing I've written to date.

Squalo's eyes felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets. "Oh sweet Jesus, Boss," he said, staring.

Xanxus' lips peeled back from her teeth. "Yes?" She leaned back on her elbows, mother-naked. "Was there something you wanted to say?" Her eyes glittered beneath her lashes, practically daring him to object.

Squalo swallowed hard. And here he'd thought that the thing with the cock ring had been exciting. Maybe he should have seen this one coming when it'd become clear that she was digging into the catalogs.

"Well?" she said.

He wet his lips. "No, Boss."

Xanxus arched an eyebrow. "No?" Her voice was husky, practically a purr.

The thing was nestled between her thighs, jutting out from them, thick and blunt. He couldn't see any straps holding it in place, which meant that the other end was--

"Oh fuck," he moaned as his cock throbbed in his pants. "Boss..."

Xanxus' eyes passed over him, head to toe. She smiled, lips curling slowly, and crooked a finger at him. "Come here."

Squalo stumbled his way to the bed, knees weak just from looking at her, and stopped short when she grunted at him. "Boss," he said, breathless with the anticipation singing through him.

Xanxus' eyes moved over him again. "Strip."

"Yes, Boss," he said, even as he scrambled to obey the order, struggling out of his shirt and hopping on first one foot and then the other as he tugged his boots off.

Her eyes stayed on him until he'd shucked out of his pants and underwear, hooded under her lashes. "Mm," she said when he was finally naked. "Eager, aren't you?"

Squalo took pride in the fact that he had only ever given her the truth, and so he nodded, not entirely trusting his voice for the answer.

Xanxus huffed, but the sound of it was grudgingly pleased. "If you're so eager, then suck it."

Squalo couldn't move immediately because something in his brain shorted out just at the thought. "Boss..." His voice was hoarse in his own ears.

She made an impatient sound and spread her knees wide, gesturing. "Don't keep me waiting."

"No, Boss," Squalo said, and lost no more time scrambling onto the bed with her and kneeling between her legs. From this angle he could see how it fit into her, the pearly white thickness of it holding her open and gleaming slickly where her body folded around it. "Oh, God," he whispered. Xanxus made an impatient sound and he bent his head down to stroke his tongue against the base of it, tracing the tip of it against her skin and the dildo, tasting her on it. Xanxus' breath hitched at that and she spread her thighs wider, tilting her hips up as he explored the shape of it with his tongue. It was thick, fitting snugly against her clit, and tapered to a stylized head that was smooth under his lips.

Xanxus watched him run his mouth over the smooth column of it. Her eyes were dark; she kept them fixed on him, avid as he ran his tongue around the head. "Go on, then."

Squalo obeyed; it was thick enough to fill his mouth and stretch his lips as he stroked his mouth down the shaft, taking as much of it as he could before pulling back, slow, letting his lips drag against the smooth silicon of it. Xanxus watched him, cupping a hand around one of her breasts and playing with it as Squalo bobbed his head over the dildo. "That really the best you can do?"

She said it like a dare, but reached her other hand down to him, resting it against the back of his head, heavy. Squalo groaned as the weight of it demanded more of him. He sucked in a breath as her hand guided him down the dildo and it nudged at the back of his throat. It had been a long fucking time since he'd had to do something like this.

It was worth it for the way Xanxus' eyes flared and the sound she made when he relaxed his throat muscles and swallowed the thing, going all the way down it till his nose was pressed against her. "Look at you," she said, fingers curling in his hair as the scent of her filled his nostrils. Her hips lifted, pressing the dildo deeper, and she made an interested sound as it shifted against her.

Squalo moaned, too, when her fingers tightened in his hair again and she lifted him up, not too far. He wasn't surprised when her hips rolled up again, sliding the dildo between his lips, fucking his throat. She groaned, her breath coming faster as she moved her hips, and his cock tightened between his legs. He reached a hand down to it, pressing his fingers against the base, going lightheaded with the shallow breaths that were all he could manage as the dildo slid over his tongue, watching her.

Xanxus teeth were set against her lower lip, pressing down and chasing the color out of it, and her eyes went narrow as her breathing turned uneven. "Fuck," she said, breathless, "fuck, fuck..." Her skin was beginning to gleam, breasts shifting with every panting breath she took, but she didn't seem to be getting any closer. Finally she hissed her frustration and said, "Give me your fucking fingers."

Squalo moaned around the dildo and circled his fingers around the base of it, pressing them against her clit. Xanxus groaned, hips rocking up and grinding against his fingers, and her entire body shook as she finally came.

Squalo couldn't help whining, watching her, cock aching with how unbearably sexy she looked and sounded, dizzy with wanting her and with how breathless he was. But he didn't move until Xanxus opened her eyes again, the gleam of them dark over the color of her cheeks, and showed her teeth as she pulled him the rest of the way off the thing. Squalo gasped for breath as it slipped free of his mouth. "Oh, fuck, Boss," he said, when he could manage it.

Xanxus drew her knee up and planted a foot on his shoulder, pushing him over. "You can do better than that," she announced. Squalo pretended not to notice how husky her voice was, despite the petulance of her words.

He caught the little tube she pitched at him then. "Boss?" He glanced at the label--oh. Oh, yes.

"Get yourself ready for me." Then she seemed to stop and consider the order. "On your knees. So I can watch."

Squalo couldn't help the sound he made at that, hoarse, but it just made her smile. "Yes," he breathed, and rolled over to plant his knees against the mattress, spreading them wide as he flicked the cap of the lube open and slicked his fingers. The rhythm of Xanxus' breathing changed when he canted his hips up and reached down and back, turning faster as he stroked his fingers between his own cheeks. Squalo permitted himself a grin since he had his forehead pressed against the sheets and his face tucked against his forearm, and gave her a show, circling his fingers slowly, working the muscles loose before he pressed the first one in.

It'd been a long time since he'd done this, too. Thank fuck for muscle memory and the fact that he could hear Xanxus' soft breaths behind him. He could imagine her eyes on him, watching him play with his own ass, stroking his fingers in and out of himself, spread open and wanton for her. That thought was almost hotter than the pressure of his fingers; it made him groan and his cock twitch, full and heavy between his legs.

He wasn't surprised when Xanxus spoke, her voice rough. "How long are you going to take?"

Squalo let his fingers slip out of himself with a last flourishing twist that made him gasp. "I'm ready whenever you are, Boss."

The mattress dipped and moved as she did; Squalo moaned as her weight leaned against him just briefly, soft breasts pressed against his back and the dildo smooth against his hip while she retrieved the lube. "Boss..." He craned his head, trying to get a look at her, and caught a glimpse of her sitting on her heels, wet fingers slipping over the dildo, meditatively slow. "Oh God, Boss, please..."

"Mm," she said and moved again, coming up on her knees and reaching for him.

Her hands closed on his hips, holding them, and her thumbs curved over his ass, spreading it wide. Squalo panted, closing his hands on the sheet and gripping them, and gasped at the first cool slide of the dildo stroking against him, rubbing between his cheeks. Xanxus made a sound behind him, a considering, thoughtful one, and moved her hips again, slowly. Squalo shuddered at the teasing thickness of the dildo as it moved against him but not in him, taut with how close it was. "Boss, please," he groaned. "Please, I want it, please..."

"Do you really?" she asked, all idle curiosity except for the vibrant huskiness of her voice.

"God, yes, please..." Squalo groaned as she kept sliding it against him, deliberately slow. "Please, Boss, put it in me. Fuck me, please..."

"Mmm." She drew back and Squalo moaned as the blunt head of the dildo came to rest against him. Xanxus gripped his hips tightly, holding him so that he couldn't push back against it, and he whined. She laughed; the sound of it was wicked and satisfied. "All right," she said, and pushed into him in one smooth movement.

Squalo heard the sound that she made, breathless and pleased as her thighs pressed against his and she ground against him, but he couldn't focus on it, not when the sharp stretch of his muscles had all of his attention and he was gasping for breath at the feeling of being filled up so completely. Then Xanxus drew back and rocked it into him again, before he'd had a chance to adjust to that first burning stretch. The feel of it was too raw to recognize as pleasure at first, which was probably the only thing that was keeping him from coming on the spot. He gasped for breath, gripping the sheets with white knuckles as Xanxus ground against him, making low, pleased sounds with every minute shift of her hips.

Then Xanxus' fingers flexed against his hips, digging into them, and she made a sound that was low and hoarse. "Fuck," she said. "Fuck." The dildo ground deeper as she pressed against him, and the mattress shook as she shuddered, coming off again.

Squalo closed his eyes, imagining it: how her back would be arched and her face would look, fierce in her pleasure, and him on his knees for her, with that dildo buried in him, all the way to the hilt. "Boss," he moaned. "Boss, please..."

Her fingers dug into his hips. "Yeah," she said, voice gone smoky and deep. "Fuck, yeah."

Squalo's breath caught as she drew back, pulling almost all the way out of him, and escaped him on a cry as she thrust into him again, the dildo sliding in at just the right angle and raking pleasure up his spine. Xanxus grunted at him as he writhed in her hands, moaning in his throat as he tried to shift his hips, and held him in place. "There, huh?"

"Yeah, please, oh--!" Squalo moaned as she rocked into him again, fucking him at that angle with hard, sharp thrusts that sent pleasure stabbing through him. "Fuck, Boss...!" She slammed into him again, faster and harder, and he lost it, all the world narrowing down to the fire that raced through him, turning him inside out with the force of it as he cried out, keening and wordless.

Xanxus fucked him through it, hips pounding against his, dildo driving against the way his body tried to wring closed on it. She cursed as she did, the profanities rolling off her tongue in a fluid moan. Squalo sagged in her hands, gasping for breath as the short jerks of her thrusts sent sensation rolling through him, like aftershocks following an earthquake, almost too much to stand when all his nerves felt like they'd just been scoured clean. Xanxus just swore at him, too, and hitched his hips higher, holding them up as she fucked him, grinding against him and seeking her pleasure again, until she found it and her voice faltered and fell silent. Squalo's hip stung as her fingernails dug into them, breaking the skin in a couple of places as she shook.

His muscles felt like they were made of jelly; when she released her grip on him, Squalo sprawled against the bed, groaning as the dildo slid out of him and sent one last shudder walking up his spine. "Fuck," he said, low and reverent. "God, Boss..." He forced himself to curl onto his side, away from the wreck of the sheets, so he could look at her.

Xanxus was still panting, chest heaving and skin gleaming. As Squalo watched, she reached a hand that was trembling just a bit down and pulled the thing out of her. Squalo couldn't help the little sound of appreciation he made as she did, especially at the sight of the bulbous shape of the end that had been inside her, large and glistening with how wet she'd gotten. No wonder she'd ground against him so hard; that thing must have been pressing against all the right places.

Xanxus looked at it for a moment and then dropped it, snorting. "Lot of work, just to get off," she said, sounding vaguely dissatisfied.

Squalo stepped on the stab of his disappointment. "I guess so."

She flicked a glance at him, one that was indecipherable. Then she snorted again. "I'll have to get one with a vibrator in it." She settled herself against her pillows and stretched, long and hard, and spread her knees again as she gave him a pointed look. "Get your lazy ass over here and make yourself useful."

Squalo knew he was grinning and couldn't make himself stop. "Yes, Boss," he said as he marshaled his wobbly muscles and shifted himself over to bury his face between her thighs.

He really was the luckiest bastard in the world.

A Love for Living Dangerously

Squalo is Xanxus' man, which means he'll let her do whatever she wants with him. Adult for smut, light bondage, breathplay, and intimations of D/s. Part of the girl!Xanxus branch of Choice.

Squalo wasn't a fan of letting his boss go off to dinners at the main house all by herselfâ€”not because she couldn't take care of herself, far from it, but because sometimes she didn't take care of herself out of some perverse stubbornness of her own, and he hated watching that happen. Not that he really thought the old man or his sons meant badly, not really, but it was God's own truth that neither Enrico nor Massimo or even the old man really understood Xanxus. They just didn't get the fire or the strength of her and kept trying to shape her into something she wasn't while they called it love.

To make things more difficult, Xanxus didn't have any kind of sense when it came to her family, not really. She trudged off to dinner with them whenever they called and Squalo couldn't find some reason to get her out of the commitment. She didn't trudge back afterwards: usually she came back in a rage, either a quiet one that left her lips pressed together tightly and didn't break until she'd broken somethingâ€”a glass, somebody's arm, once a chairâ€”or a loud one that ended with bullets flying and Squalo sparring with her till they were bloody, sweaty messes who couldn't move any more. And even after her temper had cooled off she went around brooding for days, until she managed to shake off whatever it was her idiot family had said or done this time.

When the invitation showed up, Squalo scrambled to find a plausible reason for Xanxus not to take part in celebrating the end of Federico's peripatetic education, but couldn't. For a wonder, all the Vongola's many enemies were quiet or licking their wounds and the new batch of Varia recruits hadn't yet begun trickling in. There was nothing to excuse Xanxus from attending the dinner in Federico's honor, and if Squalo were any judge, the old man had planned it that way, the cagey bastard. Wasn't anything for it, anyway, except to wait till Xanxus had left to rush around, laying in antiseptic and bandages and putting the good glasses away in exchange for the cheap mismatched stuff that wouldn't destroy the Varia's budget when Xanxus smashed it. No sense in not being prepared, after all, and it kept Mammon from bitching about the waste.

When Xanxus came in, Squalo was settled on the couch, prepared for the worst and ready to come up fighting if he had to. He wasn't prepared for Xanxus to given him an appraising look as he greeted her, or for her to stride over to him and plant a heavy hand against his chest to hold him in place as she looked down at him. Squalo looked back, baffled, because she wasn't swearing and she wasn't wearing that pinched expression that was the other normal result of extended exposure to her family.

She started plucking at his clothes instead, undoing buttons and pushing his jacket off his shoulders. Squalo moved to help, automatically, until she grunted at him. "Hold still."

Squalo blinked and did, puzzling over this strange mood until she leaned closer to push the jacket down his arms and he caught the scent of the wine on her breath. That explained a little of what was going on. Wasn't unusual for the old man to serve drinks with dinner, though Xanxus usually sneered at wine and went straight for the harder stuff, scotch and brandy and vodka, things that put a fire in her eyes and never seemed to affect her aim, no matter how much she'd had.

So that was one mystery dealt with, but it still didn't explain why Xanxus was bent over him and undressing him with her own two hands, concentrating so hard that there was a line drawing her brows together as she peeled Squalo out of the t-shirt he wore under his uniform. It obscured his vision for a moment as she pulled it over his head.

It never did to take one's eyes off Xanxus, even for a split second. While he was shaking the hair back from his eyes and wondering why Xanxus was having that much trouble clearing his handsâ€”she couldn't be that drunk, could she?â€”Xanxus moved, hiking her skirt up her thighs and setting her knees on either side of Squalo's hips as she twisted the shirt around his wrists, using it to bind them together.

Squalo went still with surprise and the way all the blood in his body rushed straight to his cock. "Boss?" he said, careful to keep his voice neutral, careful not to assume or presume anything until she gave him some kind of hint about what she was thinkingâ€”

"Shut up." Her hand fell away from his wrists and circled around his throat, not tight enough to keep Squalo from sucking in a startled breath as her thumb stroked up his carotid artery and pressed against the underside of his chin, tilting it up.

Squalo opened his mouth to hers, groaning against it as Xanxus' tongue swept against his and his cock throbbed in his pants, achingly hard just from this. Her mouth still tasted a little bit of wine, something sweet and complicated and meant for desserts. She kissed him slowly, like she meant to take her time with itâ€”fuck, Squalo thought dizzily, she probably did.

That thought pulled another groan out of him. So did the way Xanxus' fingers tightened on his throat, subtly, as he shifted his arms, settling the bundle of his wrists behind his head more comfortably. She had to have felt the way his pulse sped up at that and the way his breath hitched; he certainly felt the way her mouth moved against his, curling a bit as he stilled beneath her obediently.

Her other hand swept up his side and splayed itself over his ribs, counting them off and tracing over the patterns of old scars and newer ones, running over the places where the keloids were still shiny and pink and the places where they'd already faded to white. She'd given him some of those scars herself, but she touched them all, fingers wandering over them impartially as she kissed him, until Squalo felt shivery inside his own skin, sensitized to every light brush of her fingertips.

He groaned again when Xanxus lifted her hands away from him and pulled away from his mouth. When he lifted his head and looked, she was drawing back from him, stripping out of her shirt and unhooking her bra. That was worth losing her hands on his skin, definitely, so he stared, drinking in the paleness of her skin and the fullness of her breasts until he realized that she was watching him. Her eyes were dark when he met them; she looked like she was weighing something in her head.

Squalo raised his eyebrows at her since he wasn't sure whether her proscription against speaking was still in place. Xanxus huffed out a breath and leaned in again. Her breasts were soft against his chest and her teeth were sharp when they closed on his lip. Squalo just groaned with that, closing his eyes and shifting under her, spreading his knees wider and trying to relieve some of the tightness of his pants. Xanxus' teeth tightened against his lip, enough to sting, as she growled something at him, a warning. Then her hand slid down his stomach and over the front of his pants.

Squalo shuddered at the warm, heavy pressure of it; it took an enormous effort to keep his hips from lifting and rolling against her hand. He trembled with it, panting for breath, and was rewarded when Xanxus huffed again and stroked her tongue over his lower lip. "Don't you dare come yet."

Squalo thought she might have been waiting for a response and managed to eke out a strangled, "Yes, Boss." He'd guessed right, because she grunted her approval and thumbed the button on his fly and pulled the zip down. Squalo groaned with relief as she did, head falling back as she reached inside and pulled him out. Her fingers moved over the shape of his cock, still slow, like she was learning the shape of him. There was something curiously impersonal about it, something almost clinical in her expression, but that didn't stop pleasure from dancing over his nerves until he had to bite down on his lip himself to keep from rocking into that methodical touch.

He was on the verge of begging by the time Xanxus glanced at him again. Her eyes were still unreadable, dark beneath her lashes. "Enjoying this?" she asked as her thumb moved back and forth over his head.

Squalo thought he might have whimpered, something inarticulate and hoarse climbing out of his throat and passing for yes.

Her mouth curved, just faintly, and her fingers wrapped tighter around him. "You can come now," she said as she stroked him hard.

Some lightheaded part of his brain wanted to protest, wanted to ask about her, but he couldn't, not when the heat contracted on him at the casual command. It tore through him as he bucked into her fist, coming so hard that his vision whited out and his throat felt scraped raw with the sounds he made.

Xanxus was still perched over him, one hand gripping his shoulder for balance, when he came back down. When Squalo looked up at her dazedly, she was watching him. Her expression would have been unreadable even if his brain hadn't just melted out his ears.

Squalo had to swallow a couple of times and wet his lips before he could manage speech. "Fuck, Boss..."

Her hand was still between his legs, sticky fingers playing with skin that was almost oversensitive, dancing on the edge of what was bearable. "You like this," she said, finally. It was half a question and half a statement.

There was no way in hell he had the kind of brains left to manage this kind of conversation, so he didn't bother trying to puzzle his way to the right answer. Squalo rested his head against the bundle of his wrists and gave her the simple, true one instead. "I love it," he said as her fingers moving over him made his cock wonder whether it might be able to get up and go again.

Xanxus' fingers froze on him and she stared at him. Then the hand on his shoulder gripped tighter, enough to maybe leave a bruise and to penetrate through some of the haze fogging Squalo's brain. "Do you?"

"Fuck, yes," Squalo breathed as something hot and possibly suicidal uncurled in the pit of his stomach in response to the way her eyes sparked. "Anything you want, Boss. That's just fine by me."

There was no way she could mistake his response, not when his cock was twitching in her hand, answering the way her eyes had flared and the way her fingers were digging into his shoulder. Xanxus stared at him for a moment before her hand loosened on his shoulder and slid sideways, wrapping around his throat tight enough that Squalo could feel his pulse beginning to pound. Her grip was tight enough to constrict his breathing; black spots swam in front of his eyes and his cock throbbed in her fist.

Just when he wasn't sure whether he was going to last much longer without sliding down into unconsciousness, her grip eased and he was able to suck in a lungful of air under the weight of her hand and her stare. "Your man," he told her, hearing the hoarseness of his own voice, when he caught a second breath. "You can do whatever you want with me."

The seconds ticked past as she looked down at him. Then she snorted and stood. "Lie down," she said as her hands went to her skirt.

"Yes, Boss." Squalo couldn't quite contain his smile as her skirt slid down her hips and her panties followed it. He wriggled around, stretching out on the couch and hooking his wrists over the arm of it, and watched herâ€”bare and gorgeous and more dangerous than any three men put togetherâ€”as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his pants and underwear and dragged them down his thighs. Xanxus just rolled her eyes at him when she caught him doing it, and threw a knee over his hips to straddle him. Then she sank down on his cock with a low, breathless sound.

Squalo groaned, fingers clutching at the cotton of his shirt as her body wrapped around him, tight and slick, and fixed his eyes on Xanxus. She leaned over him, eyes half-lidded and lips parted, and planted a hand on his chest as she raised herself up and rocked down on him again, fucking herself on his cock. Her hips moved fast, the pace of them urgent as she panted over him, until she bore down on him. She ground against his hips as she slid her fingers down between her legs to stroke herself until her body seized on his, wringing tight. Squalo watched her, breathless with the way her muscles rippled around him and how she groaned, arching over him, riding it out.

She seemed a little surprised that he was still hard when she opened her eyes again. Squalo shrugged at her as best as he could with his hands bound upâ€”wasn't like he was going to come off fast again the second time. Xanxus snorted at him, rocking against him and making a sound that was almost pleased as his cock slid deeper. Squalo sighed at that, shuddering as the slow rock of her hips added to the pleasant tension threading through him.

Then her hands spread against his chest. "The fuck am I doing all the work for?" Her teeth were showing between her lips, just a little.

Squalo couldn't quite help the laugh that bubbled out of him. "Sorry, Boss." He drew a knee up, planting it against the cushion, and rocked his hips up to meet hers, driving a groan out Xanxus as he pressed deeper, fucking her harder. He let the sounds she made guide him as she arched and flexed over him, her eyes going hazy, until his thighs were burning and he was panting with how close he was.

Xanxus looked down at him when he made a sound, something inarticulate and entreating, and her teeth showed again. "Put your back into it," she told him, and gasped when he obeyed, hips slamming up against hers, cock driving against her harder and faster. She swore, something inarticulate, urging him on as she ground down against him. She gripped his shoulders and panted as he spread his feet wider and fucked her, trying to find the angle that would send her off again, until she gasped, arching over him and shaking as she threw her head back, eyes squeezed shut.

Squalo groaned, hips jerking against hers as he chased the same edge she'd found, heat and need twining through him, but it wasn't until she'd opened her eyes and looked at him and curved her fingers around his throat again to hold him that he found it. He groaned as pleasure swept him down, breaking him into a thousand pieces with its fierceness.

It took him a long time to pull himself back together. Xanxus was still spread over him when he finally managed it, sprawled across his chest in a lazy drape, and his arms were numb with how long they'd been trapped over his head. "Jesus, Boss," he managed, finally.

Xanxus grunted something against his shoulder, apparently not inclined to move, and didn't stir when he lifted his arms and shook them free of his shirt. Squalo grimaced at the tingle of blood flowing back into them, and then realized that he wasn't sure where to put his hands now that they were free.

Well, if she were going to kill him for his impudence, she probably would have done that already this evening, he decided, and tucked a hand under his head as he settled his other arm around her.

The curve of Xanxus' back went tense under his hand and then relaxed again; her breath gusted against his throat, warm, as she snorted. Since she couldn't see him, he permitted himself a smile before indulging his curiosity. "So who did you kill at dinner?" That had to have been what had put her into such a relaxed mood. "Enrico?" He was probably her least favorite family member; Squalo had a bet going with himself over how long it was going to be before Enrico finally met with a fatal accident.

Xanxus' breath brushed against his throat again as she huffed. "Didn't kill anyone."

"Huh." So much for that theory. "Maim him instead?" This was Xanxus, after all.

"Don't be an idiot."

Squalo raised his eyebrows at the ceiling. "Sorry, Boss."

Xanxus left him to wonder what had happened for a while longer before she finally said, "Federico wants to meet you."

It didn't quite register at first that that was her explanation. When it did, Squalo blinked a little at the ceiling, wondering at it. "Okay." He'd figured that it would have to happen sooner or later; everyone knew that the old man was going to leave it all to his youngest son. Professionalism and his own curiosity made him ask, "What's he like?"

"He's not actually an idiot." Xanxus stirred against him and Squalo realized, belatedly, that he was stroking her back.

But she didn't tell him to stop and he liked living dangerously, so he kept going, running his hands up and down the sleek curve of her spine. "That'll make for a refreshing change."

Xanxus didn't answer him immediately, but when she did, it was to say, "Yeah. Yeah, I think it will."

And when Squalo finally met Federico Vongola a few days later, he understood what she'd meant.

Vantage Point

There are far worse ways to die than this. For Porn Battle XI, prompt Xanxus/Squalo, genderswap, possession, voyeurism. Part of the Fem!Xanxus part of Choice.

It ended the way sparring with Xanxus generally did: the room was a smoking ruin and Squalo was on his knees for her, out of breath and holding still because there was a warm muzzle resting between his eyebrows. And, of course, he was hard, but that was normal when it came to sparring, too. There was nowhere that Xanxus was more herself than in the middle of a fight, and what she was was amazing. All in all, Squalo figured that if he had to go out, doing it at her feet looking up at the sleek lines of her legs and the wildness in her eyes wasn't a bad way to do it.

But this wasn't going to be the day that happened. Xanxus looked him over, flicked the safety back on, and holstered her gun. "Come with me." The command was peremptory; she gave no sign of what she was thinking. Squalo rolled to his feet, adjusted himself discreetly, and followed after her without question since she was already striding away. Not towards her quarters, he noticed, stifling faint regret, but towards her office. Oh well. Sometimes the mood to fuck took her after a good fight and sometimes it didn't. Wasn't his place to complain either way. They were going towards her office; maybe she'd had a breakthrough on the Cizeta job.

At the door, Xanxus waved him ahead of her. "Inside." She still wasn't giving him any sign of what was on her mind. That may not have been a good thing; was she annoyed that he'd managed to land a strike on her? But wounds didn't usually bother her, and this one barely even qualified for the titleâ€”the slice across her thigh had been a clean one, hardly more than a scratch, and had already scabbed over. Squalo puzzled over the curt command as he entered her office and brought himself to rest at attention. Xanxus pulled the door closed; he thought she may have even locked it, though the tumblers were well-oiled and the click of them was soft.

She eyed him again and snorted. "Strip."

It wasn't worth trying to figure out what was on her mind, he decided, hastening to obey as quickly as he could make his fingers undo buttons and zippers and laces. Maybe she was in the mood after all. He wasn't going to dare presume (though his cock did). "Boss," he said, once he was standing naked for her.

Xanxus made a circuit around him, running her eyes from the top of his head to his bare feet. "Mm." She pointedâ€”at her desk? No, her chair. "Sit."

Baffled, Squalo obeyed, easing himself down into her chair. The leather creaked as it took his weight; the seat was adjusted for her height and not his, but he didn't complain. Not that there was anything in the world to complain about, because Xanxus was unbuttoning her shirt and letting it fall, undoing her bra and discarding it. Squalo made a sound, watching avidly as she undid her skirt and let it slither down her legs and then peeled out of her panties.

Her mouth curled; she came around the desk and pushed the papers on it aside to sit herself down in front of him. Squalo stared at her, hearing himself make another sound when she lifted a knee and planted her foot squarely on the armrest of the chair, spreading her knees wide and displaying herself. "God, Boss..."

She leaned herself back on one hand and draped the other across her thigh, running her fingers over the cut he'd given her, still looking at him, still silent. Squalo looked back, drinking in the slope of her breasts and the lushness of her body and the sheer unthinking arrogance in the tilt of her head, aching with how much he wanted her. Her mouth curled, finally. "Touch yourself."

His breath quickened. "Yes, Boss." He dropped a hand to his cock, fisting it.

Xanxus made an impatient sound. "So I can see." She seemed to consider her orders a bit more and added another clarification. "Slowly. And don't come till I tell you."

A shudder walked down Squalo's spine and he groaned. "Anything you say, Boss." He spread his knees wider for her and loosened his fingers around himself, running them up and down his cock and hissing between his teeth as he slid them over the head of it. He dropped his other hand down to play with his balls, determined to give her a good show, if that was what she was after.

Her eyes rested on him, heavy as a hand, as he worked himself for her. Her color was running high again, like it always did after a sparring match, and her eyes were half-lidded and gleaming. "What goes through your head when you're on your knees for me?"

Squalo's cock twitched in his hand as her question reminded him of the moment barely past; he saw her eyes sharpen. "That I'm yours." He had to string the words together carefully, thanks to how dizzy the heat running through him was making him. "That it would be a good way to go, if that's how you wanted to end it."

Xanxus made a soft sound, one part hunger, one part satisfaction. "Would it?"

"Anything you want from me is good, Boss." Squalo ran his thumb over his head, back and forth. "Because it's you."

"Mm." She ran her hand up her thigh and tucked it against herself, sliding her fingers between her folds. She was already wet; the sight dragged a groan out of him. "That why you get hard when we fight?"

"Sort of, Boss. Sort of not." He couldn't quite tear his eyes away from the slow back-and-forth of her fingers or the way she circled her clit and traced the shape of herself.

"Tell me." Xanxus' voice had dropped, gone husky; his cock twitched in his hand, responding to that tone. Squalo gasped and pressed his fingers against the base of it: not yet, she hadn't given him permission yet. "What gets you so hard?"

"You, Boss," he breathed, hearing the sound she made then. "It's you, when you fight, there's nothing else but you. That's what you were made to do, and you're so... so..."

"So...?" she prompted when he faltered, at a loss for words.

Squalo raised his eyes to hers. "Beautiful." It was the truth, whole and perfect. "You're beautiful, Boss."

Xanxus stared at him; she'd stopped moving her fingers. "Beautiful."

"Beautiful," he repeated, because he never had lied to her and he wasn't going to start now. "It's the way you move and fight and how you look when you fire a gun, and your strength, and... you. It's just you, Boss."

She stared at him, eyes gone opaque. "You are one crazy son of a bitch."

Squalo could feel the ice creaking beneath his feet. He shrugged at her and himself; if he had to go, having this be the last thing he ever saw wouldn't be so bad, either. "Maybe, Boss. But I'm a happy one."

He breathed a little easier all the same when that earned him a ghost of a smile.

Then she raised her foot and prodded his shoulder, digging her toes into it. "I didn't give you permission to stop moving." Squalo didn't even know what the sound he made then was, but it made her smile again. He nodded and began running his fingers up and down again, breathless.

She watched him, holding her own fingers still, before saying, "So. Anything I want." That was skipping right over the things that had confused her, but there weren't any surprises there. She began stroking herself again; he had to wet his lips again. The corner of her mouth kicked up. "So that's what you're thinking when I've got you on your knees."

It sounded like a dare; maybe it was. Maybe she wanted to see how far he was willing to go. Well, for her, he was willing to go all the way. "Sort of."

Xanxus made a satisfied sound, like she'd expected as much. "Tell me."

Oh, God. Squalo took a breath, steadying himself against the surge of adrenaline. "Sometimes," he began, daring a glance at her eyes. They were dark. "Sometimes I think about you. How you stand over me. And what would happen if you decided you wanted me right there." Dangerous territory, that; her eyes narrowed. He plunged on. "If you decided to pull me to you right there and have me put my mouth on you while I'm still on my knees, when it's perfectly clear how completely you own me." He couldn't help moving his fingers faster; just talking about it conjured up the image for him, how it would feel to put his face between her thighs and taste her on his tongue while she stood over him.

Xanxus made a sound; the hardness was fading out of her eyes. He went on. "I think about how you would pull my hair to tell me what you wanted." She was moving her fingers faster, stroking them over her clit. "How I'd still be able to smell the gun smoke, how it would be on your skin. How you would sound, whether you would want me to put my fingers in you. Whether you would let me touch myself, or if you'd tell me to keep my hands off my cock. So I think about that. Sometimes."

Xanxus hummed something between her teeth and pushed a finger into herself. Squalo groaned, watching her. "Go on," she said, voice low and rich, as she worked herself open right there in front of him.

"God, Boss." Squalo swallowed, hard, and slowed his hand down lest he explode. "Okay, um." He wet his lips. "I think... I think about what it would be like if you decided to wear one of your toys, maybe even while we fought. And how it would be if you decided to push me over and pin me under you so you could fuck me with it." She made a low sound and slid a second finger in with the first; this seemed to be working just as well for her as it did him. Squalo kept going, the words spilling out of him. "Maybe you'd make me suck it first, just grab my head and fuck my throat to get it good and wet, before you pushed me over and pulled my ass into the air and put it in me." She liked doing that, maybe even as much as he liked having her do it. She groaned now, listening to him describe it. "It would be so good to be on my hands and knees while you rode me, so good to have you fuck me hard, for just as long as you wanted." He was breathless, half-giddy with the fantasy he was spinning and with his fingers on his cock, and from watching Xanxus fuck herself on her own fingers, three of them now sliding in and out of her, gleaming and wet. "I'd scream for you, Boss. And anyone could walk in and see me begging you to take me harder."

That did it; Xanxus groaned, hips jerking against her own hand as she arched, eyes squeezing shut. Squalo moaned, watching her and pressing his fingers hard against the base of his cock, until she sagged against the desk, panting, fingers still tucked between her thighs. She opened her eyes again after her breathing had steadied. "That's what you think about?"

"Sometimes, Boss." He raised his eyes to hers. "Boss, please, I can'tâ€”please, Boss, let me come."

Her mouth quirked. "That what you need?" Squalo nodded, swallowing hard as she took her hand away from herself and spread her knees wider. "Come here."

"Oh, God," he breathed. "Yes."

She snorted and pulled him in against her when he surged out of the chair. "You think you can fuck me?" she asked, wrapping a leg around him and closing her hand on his nape.

"Yes," he said, nearly shaking with how much he needed her, how close she was, her body radiating heat against his.

Xanxus made a satisfied sound and reached down to guide his cock against her. "Come on and show me what you've got," she said as he moaned. She gasped when he let his hips snap forward, burying himself in her. "Fuck, yeah..." She dug her nails into his nape. "C'mon, fuck me now."

"Boss..." Squalo planted his hands on her desk and bit down on his lower lip, doing as she ordered, driving against her, hard and deep. Xanxus hissed and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper and groaning as he fucked her. It was almost unbearable to be inside her after spending so long talking and touching himself; Squalo could taste blood from where he was biting down on his own lip to keep from coming too soon.

"What else?" she demanded, hoarse. "Tell me what else you think about."

"You," he gasped, hitching her hips against his. "Putting your hand on my chest and pushing me down. Pulling your skirt up and then riding me just like that." He licked his thumb and got his hand between them to rub it against her clit; he was shaking with the effort of holding himself back from the edge. "You when you come, the way you sound and the way you smell and taste, how you feel around me, God, Boss, I never stop thinking about you, I belong to you, I have you ground into my bones, Iâ€”"

Xanxus arched under him, groaning as her body wrung tight on his. "Now," she gasped. Squalo obeyed, orgasm slamming into him like a fist and knocking the breath out of him as it whited out his vision altogether.

He was draped against her when he came back down again; she was holding him up and still had her hand on his nape. Squalo hardly dared to stir against her as the words he'd babbled to her began to come back to him as his head came clear again.

"That's what you think about?" Xanxus' words were slow, her tone thoughtful.

Squalo stared past her shoulder to the papers strewn across her desk, contemplating his own mortality. "Yes, Boss."

Xanxus tightened her grip on his nape. "Oh." It could have meant anything. "Oh."

He nodded, hardly daring to breathe.

Xanxus slid her thumb over his nape. "How long?" she asked, when he shivered.

"Since the beginning." It was only the truth.

Xanxus hissed something between her teeth, profane, and tightened her grip when he would have pulled awayâ€”to do what, he wasn't sure. Apologize, perhaps. "You..." she started. Squalo could count the number of times he'd heard her sound that confused on one hand and still have fingers left over.

"Me, Boss," he agreed.

She snorted something and loosened her hand, flattening and spreading it in the space between his shoulder blades. Squalo's breath caught in his throat when she kept going, smoothing her hand down his spine and back up again. "Boss," he breathed, very close to trembling. She kept touching him, fingers slow against his skin, and a shudder rolled through him.

She didn't say anything at first, just kept touching him till he was trembling against her. "You're mine," she said at last, curving her palm around his nape again. "Aren't you."

Not really a question so much as a statement, that, but it needed answering. "Yes, Boss." Squalo wet his lips. "Heart and soul and body. Yours."

Xanxus sucked in a breath, but didn't say anything else.

It was a long time before she let him go.

Say Nothing and Close Your Eyes

Frau and Castor fight constantly. Castor never expected that to change, let alone like this, but he can't forget the light in Frau's hands. Written for the Oh My God We Need Some Porn in Here Stat meme, and the prompt Castor/Frau, punishment (it went in almost completely the opposite direction; I never claimed to be in control of these characters!). Porn, D/s, I-3

The first time Castor and Frau had a fight, after their promotion to bishops, it didn't go quite the way Castor expected.

He and Frau had fought pretty much constantly ever since they'd met. Castor was, not just the son of a aristocratic house, but it's heir. He'd been raised to strict courtesy, reserve, and precision in his work. Frau was an air pirate brat who Castor was reasonably sure, from a few things Frau had let drop, had been raised in a bordello. He was loud, casual, and careless in almost everything. Castor had no idea whose notion it had been to room them together, but the result had been predictable.

After over three years, their fights had worn some of the edges off. They had cooperated very well, in the exam, at least once Castor had taken away Frau's porn, tied him to a library chair, and drilled him on enough scripture to pass the first part. Castor had actually been a little touched that Frau had refused to leave him, when they reached the last two doors, though he did think Frau could have been a little less crude in the response he'd inscribed to the examiners. They had helped each other out when their paths crossed during their apprentice periods. They were friends by now, albeit friends who fought constantly.

None of that, however, meant Frau frustrated him any less.

So when Frau leaned against the window of Castor's new (thankfully single) room and fished his Seal from around his neck to light a cigarette with, of course Castor growled and snatched for it.

"Frau! Is there no end to your disrespect? Give me that!"

Frau caught Castor's wrist and grabbed his lighter-cum-Seal back. "Oh come on, it's still the holy Seal. Who cares if it's also something actually useful?"

Castor elbowed Frau in the ribs, though it didn't land quite as squarely as usual; he still wasn't entirely used to their new vestments. Frau grunted satisfyingly and lost his cigarette, though, and they scuffled for the lighter for a few seconds.

"Don't even try it!" Frau panted, snatching Castor's other hand before Castor could get a good grip on the chain of his lighter. "You stole my porn, but you're not getting my goddamn cigarettes!" He swung Castor up against the wall by the window, trying to pin him, and Castor gave him a disdainfully curled lip and twisted his wrists against Frau's completely unscientific grip.

He couldn't break it.

Castor froze for one second in shock. It wasn't as though he hadn't noticed that Frau was taller than him now, or that Frau had been filling out a lot this past year, but Castor had been trained to fight nearly from the moment he could walk. That Frau would have the raw strength to stop him anyway...

He couldn't help remembering the last test of the exam, the stunning light that had washed through the entire hall, breaking open the candidates' isolation, erasing everyone's shadows. Erasing his father. The hands that held him were the ones that wielded that light, and that put a strange shiver through Castor.

He tried, more by reflex than intention at that point, to throw Frau off balance with a twist of his hips. And then he really couldn't help the sound he made when Frau pressed a thigh between his legs to pin him in place. Frau stilled, looking down at him with sudden question, and Castor stared up at him, shocked at his own response. He was hard against Frau's thigh.

"Castor?" Frau asked, voice low and steady.

"I..." Castor swallowed. "I don't..." He couldn't forget that light, and when Frau's hands tightened his breath caught. The piercing eyes on him softened.

"Shh," Frau said quietly, pressing Castor back against the wall. "It's okay." His mouth quirked. "Could have figured you wouldn't know what to do with it."

Castor rallied a bit at that, bristling. "What exactly do you mean by—" He broke off with a choked gasp as Frau's thigh rocked up between his legs. He tried to reach out, to steady himself at least, and couldn't; Frau's grip kept his hands pinned up against the wall, and Castor moaned softly as his stomach tightened with heat.

"That," Frau murmured. Castor's eyes widened as Frau leaned down and closed his teeth, delicately, on the edge of Castor's veil, lifting it until he could catch Castor's mouth. His mouth on Castor's was slow and gentle and utterly ruthless, and Castor was trembling by the time Frau let him go only to catch him again. This, yes, this was what he'd felt in the light that touched them all, and Castor finally surrendered to it and tipped his head back, mouth open under Frau's.

Frau kept him up against the wall, kissing him until Castor was breathless and gasping as the hard thigh between his legs rocked steadily against him. Frau's strength held him, steadied him, took him slowly apart, and Castor could only trust in Frau's assurance that it was all right. When pleasure finally snapped and shot through him, Frau's body against his was the only thing he could hold on to.

And when he finally relaxed, panting for breath, Frau still held him. Secure. Castor had to swallow against the tightness in his throat. "Frau..."

Slowly, Frau let him go, thumbs stroking gently over his wrists as that steel grip on them eased. He let Castor down and drew him a little away from the wall, gathering him close. "All right?" he asked softly, long fingers spread against Castor's back.

"I..." Castor hardly knew. But he leaned against Frau.

Frau cupped his cheek, lifting his head. He kissed Castor very gently, through their veils this time, giving Castor back that little distance. "Next time you want to do that, let me know." He smiled. "And we can keep the fighting for the real arguments. Like where the hell you stashed my porn."

Castor finally laughed, even if it was a little husky. "Don't tell me you haven't replaced it already. I know you better than that."

Frau drew himself up indignantly. "That's not the point."

"Yes, it is," Castor answered precisely, "because now I have to go looking for the new stuff too."

And they were back to normal, except for Frau's hand still resting on his back, steady and sure. Supporting him. Offering a strength that Castor couldn't break away from. Castor wasn't sure how he could ask for this again, but he suspected he was going to figure it out.

End

Crossing Every Boundary Line Between Earth and Sky

Castor and Frau both have their own quirks, and their own needs for release. Fortunately, their needs dovetail. Features Castor being evil, Frau being dominant, and Castor and Frau taking care of each other. Porn, Bondage, D/s, I-4

Frau

Every time Frau went to bed with Castor he remembered why he'd sworn the last time would be the last.

"You're a sadistic fucking bastard," he panted, body arched taut under Castor's hand on his cock, which was stroking very, very slowly. Frau strained against Castor's strings wound around his arms and pulling them up over his head, which did about as much good as ever.

Castor smiled down at him, cool and collected as if they weren't naked in bed, and as if he weren't slowly driving Frau out of his mind. "Now, now, simply because some of us prefer to savor the good things in life instead of rushing through them, that's no need to be insulting."

"You think it's a compliment, you—" Frau broke off in a moan as Castor rubbed a thumb slow and hard over his head. He wasn't going to last much longer at this rate.

"Language, Frau," Castor murmured, eyes glinting behind his glasses. "Patience is a great virtue; you should cultivate it." He leaned down to trace tortuously light, wet circles with his tongue over Frau's nipples and Frau pulled harder against the strings holding his arms, trying to get more of that soft, wet touch. When Castor closed his teeth, ever so delicately, Frau finally broke.

"Please," he gasped, "Castor, please, stop screwing around and fuck me!" He groaned as Castor made a thoughtful sound, long, slick fingers tightening around his cock.

"Since you ask politely, I suppose I could, yes." Castor caught Frau's knees and lifted them, spreading Frau wide open. More strings wrapped around his legs, keeping them there, and Castor trailed his fingers down Frau's cock, behind his balls, to rub softly against his entrance. Frau was half crazy with the heat and the teasing, and nearly aching with how badly he wanted Castor inside him.

"Please, Castor, now," Frau begged, knowing Castor was perfectly capable of drawing this out even more. "Fuck me now, you know goddamn well I can take it!"

Castor smiled, the knife-sharp smile he never showed in public, and ran his hands up Frau's spread thighs. "You want it that much?" he asked softly.

Frau shuddered in the hold of Castor's threads. "Castor," he whispered, openly pleading. "Please."

Castor leaned over him and kissed him, slow and hard, tongue sliding deep into his mouth. "Yes," he murmured against Frau's lips. And just like that he was pushing into Frau, barely slick. The harsh stretch of taking him in stole Frau's words and he groaned low and loud.

Castor fucked him rough and slow, and his eyes on Frau were finally hot, finally done with teasing and concealing. That was what made Frau let go at last and give himself up to Castor's control without reservation, moaning with every stroke and begging shamelessly for more whenever he had the breath. It was so good to feel this, the raw fire at the core of Castor. Frau didn't even mind being caught so helplessly in Castor's power, as long as it meant Castor would open up, open Frau up and fuck him hard. The pounding of Castor's cock into him, the strength of Castor's hand wrapping around him, drowned him in sensation until Frau was nearly screaming with it, every muscle hard and taut against the strings holding him. When the tension finally snapped, it wrung Frau's body so hard he could barely breathe, shuddering with the rake of pleasure through and through him.

The sound of Castor's moan, as he drove deep into Frau, pulled an extra gasp from him, and even dazed as he was he smiled at the look on Castor's face as he caught himself over Frau: at peace for a while, washed clean of the darkness that lived behind his eyes for just a little bit.

When Castor finally released him, it was Frau's turn to moan again. His muscles felt like jelly as Castor eased him back down to the bed, and he sighed with pleasure as Castor's hands kneaded gently over his thighs. "Mmmm. You know," he sighed, "you're a complete bastard. And a flaming control freak." Frau's lips curled up. "That was fantastic."

Castor laughed softly, and settled down against the length of Frau's body. "You say that every time."

"It's true every time," Frau pointed out, and made a contented sound as Castor's arms wrapped around him. His arms were still shaky, as he settled them around Castor in return, but he really liked the cuddling afterward.

Every time they went to bed, he remembered why he'd sworn not to any more. And every time, he also remembered why he still did.

Castor

One of the things Castor liked best about his bed games with Frau was when Frau stalked him. He was perfectly aware that Frau considered this evidence that Castor was every bit as perverted as himself, but Castor enjoyed the crinkle down his spine that told of eyes watching him, of a body moving up behind him on quiet feet. A part of him missed the bright edge of a threat to his life, and he didn't hesitate to take his pleasure in this softened version of it.

And for all that Frau mocked, he had a fine sense of drama about the whole thing.

Witness how patiently he had waited for Castor to take off and neatly hang his vestments, tonight, waited for the precise moment Castor was turning away from his wardrobe and shrugging off his shirt. A swift snatch, almost faster than Castor could have escaped if he'd been trying to, and he was pressed up against the wall, bare chest brushing the cool stone. Frau's hands were wrapped around his wrists, pinning them against the wall over his head, and Castor could feel the hard muscle of Frau's body against his back, holding him in place.

Willing or not, the reflex of years sent him jerking against that hold as soon as he was caught, but his hands didn't move an inch. Frau was stronger than he was, hand to hand, and his grip was like iron. Learning that all over again made Castor have to swallow in a dry throat.

"Shh," Frau said softly against his ear, pressing closer to cage him more firmly against the wall. "It's your turn."

A shadow of heat curled through Castor's body, and after another tense breath or two, he surrendered to Frau's hold, resting his forehead against the stone. "Yes," he murmured.

He never resisted Frau for long.

And Frau's grip never loosened, even as he gathered both Castor's wrists in one hand and slid the other down Castor's chest to undo his pants. Castor's breath came shorter as Frau kept him stretched against the wall and closed his hand between Castor's legs, kneading slow and strong. Castor's knees were shaky already, and the perfectly assured way Frau handled him made him moan. "Frau..."

"Shh," Frau told him again, quietly, and Castor shivered, bending his head. Frau was a gentle man. A kind man. And he was all the more inexorable, when they did this, because he knew it was what Castor wanted.

And he did want it. To have to give way, to let Frau's taller, harder body confine and shelter his while Frau fondled him until he was shaking. Little wanting sounds caught in his throat, but he knew Frau would only hush him again if he spoke. Castor enjoyed hearing Frau beg; Frau wanted Castor to know that even begging wouldn't do any good.

Finally, Frau slid his hand out of Castor's open pants with a final squeeze. As Castor sagged against the wall in his grip, he caught Castor's chin, turning his head back and up until Frau could kiss him, slow and wet and deep. Castor leaned back against him, acquiescent, and Frau made a satisfied sound into his mouth. Frau's hands were still firm, but gentler now as he brought Castor's down and caught them behind his back instead. Frau guided him a few steps to bend over the side of his bed and pulled his pants down off his hips. Castor moaned softly as Frau held him in place, just as helplessly caught as he'd been up against the wall and far readier for Frau. He turned his cheek against the sheets, watching as Frau rummaged one-handed in his wall nook.

What rubbed slickly between his cheeks, though, wasn't Frau's fingers. It was the thickness of Frau's cock, and Castor's breath caught. "Frau," he whispered, eyes wide.

Frau leaned over him, caging him against the bed. "Shh," Frau murmured a third time, lips brushing the back of Castor's neck. "It's all right, Castor. Be still."

Castor closed his eyes, breath leaving him as he went limp against the bed. The quiet authority in Frau's voice was the same tone Castor heard when Frau was most intent on his duties, the one that sometimes made Castor think Frau was the truest Bishop among them. It was a voice that told him he was safe in Frau's hands, and he trusted it now, lying pliant under Frau's hold as Frau slowly, so slowly, pressed into him.

It felt incredible.

His body opened in a slow, endless stretch, hard and breathless, until Castor was panting against the sheets, trembling with the intensity of it. And Frau just kept moving, easing back and then in with such iron control Castor couldn't help moaning just to feel it. He didn't know how long Frau fucked him like that, bent over his bed; he couldn't keep track of anything but the moment, the hardness of Frau's cock inside him, stretching and filling him relentlessly, the gentle unbreakable grip that pinned his hands behind his back.

When Frau's hand closed tight around his cock again it pulled a hoarse sound out of him, muffled by the sheets. Three hard, demanding strokes and he was gone, mindless in the wave of pleasure that dragged him down. He felt Frau drive into him harder, deeper, rocking him up off his knees, and heard Frau groan, felt the grip around his wrists tighten and pin him down ruthlessly.

It felt so good.

He didn't move when Frau let him go, just lay there and floated in the aftermath of pleasure. He didn't get to relax this completely very often and he didn't want to let it go. Frau chuckled softly and dropped a kiss against his shoulder before rising. A few breaths later, he returned with some of Castor's towels to clean up with, and helped Castor the rest of the way out of his clothes. He let Frau move him, and roused enough to make a soft, pleased noise when Frau joined him in bed and pulled Castor firmly against him. "Sleep now," he told Castor, and kissed him gently.

They would go back to fighting and sniping in the morning. But for now, Castor closed his eyes and settled meekly into the shelter of Frau's arms.

Morning would come soon enough.

End

Silence That Is Incomprehensible

Follows some of Hyuuga and Ayanami's possible history with each other pre-canon, from the Academy through the aftermath of the war. Includes porn without sex and s/m without the whip which, while quite consensual, is not particularly sane. Drama, Character Study, Porn, Kink, I-4

Hyuuga met Ayanami his first week at the Academy, and that meeting set the tone for everything that came after.

The whole class was out in a courtyard for beginning zaiphon training, and the teacher was yelling at Hyuuga. Nothing unexpected.

"Hyuuga-kun! You're here to learn to use your zaiphon, not to learn ballroom dancing!"

"But sensei," Hyuuga lilted as he sprang aside from yet another clumsy stroke by his training partner that barely left a scorch on the flagstones, "it's more fun this way! Besides," he added, as Shigetsu-sensei started to turn red in the face, "why should I wear myself out when a sword is so much faster?" He sprinted lightly forward and spun to come up at the Ochi kid's back, sword laid lightly against his neck.

More to the point, why should Hyuuga show his zaiphon here, where it was just possible someone would recognize what he was by seeing it? Not that he could say that out loud.

"What are you going to do if you can't use that sword of yours and never trained in this?" Shigetsu-sensei snapped back while Ochi swallowed tightly. Hyuuga would have to admit it was a good point, if he were actually untrained. Since he wasn't, he was just summoning his sunniest smile and another good line of bullshit when another of his classmates cut in.

"Perhaps a greater challenge is in order, then?" It was the cool boy with the silvery hair who stepped up to stand beside him. Ayanami, that was it. Who proceeded to push Hyuuga's sword away from Ochi's neck with precise, gloved fingers, using just enough pressure to move a lightly-held blade without cutting himself. Hyuuga's brows rose. This one was pretty observant. "May we switch partners, sensei? I believe Hiroki-kun would be better served to start with someone closer to his own experience."

Hyuuga sheathed his sword and glanced over his shoulder to see Ayanami's training partner, who was standing in the middle of a swath of deeply etched stone and shaking. Shigetsu-sensei looked too and sighed. "Yes, yes, fine. You take Hyuuga-kun, then. Maybe you'll rub off on him. We can hope," he grumbled as he herded Ochi and Hiroki off to the side to work on some basic focusing exercises.

Ayanami didn't speak, just beckoned to Hyuuga and turned to pace gravely through the, mostly pretty small, explosions their classmates were managing. Hyuuga blinked as he trailed after; had this guy been raised in a monastery or something? Or maybe he was from one of those noble families that was really strict and formal. Ayanami led the way through an arched arcade and into a smaller court, off to the side of the general training melee, before he stopped and turned to fix an intent look on Hyuuga. "You favor the sword?" he asked, after a moment.

The sharpness of his eyes, the pinpoint focus in them, tugged at Hyuuga, sent a tingle down his nerves. He slid his hands along his hilts and decided, impulsively, to give a true answer. "I am the sword."

Ayanami didn't frown or look puzzled, the way most people did. He just nodded. "Then we should train with both." He drew his own, perfectly regulation, sword with one hand and a swift coil of zaiphon circled the other. "Guard yourself."

The instinct he'd been born and trained to jabbed Hyuuga sharply, and both his own swords swept out to meet the fast lick of Ayanami's blade even as he leaped to avoid the lash of zaiphon that could have taken his leg off. Another three exchanges of steel, and zaiphon came scything in again. Hyuuga's lips drew back off his teeth as the world sharpened around him and he rolled down and back up in a scissoring attack on Ayanami's casting hand. This was good. He hadn't thought to find a real opponent among the other students, but this one... this one might have the edge he craved. The edge his sword needed to stay true.

He danced and spun through the storm of Ayanami's sword and zaiphon, starting to feel the pattern of them and know where he needed to strike. Ayanami was strong, but a straight sword couldn't counter the subtle binding of a curved edge, and the harshest, most precise zaiphon was no use if it didn't connect. There was an opening. Here. Here.

Hyuuga spun, wakizashi coming up from below as his katana bound Ayanami's sword, and Ayanami's last zaiphon attack would go just past Hyuuga's shoulder. He could see it, feel it, see the reflection of it in the widening of Ayanami's eyes. Hyuuga laughed with the absolute purity of the moment as he struck.

Just before his short blade touched home, the circle of zaiphon around Ayanami's hand snapped into an expanding sphere.

Hyuuga didn't have time to yelp, barely had time to cross his blades and channel a desperate burst of zaiphon through them, before the lash of Ayanami's power struck him and blew him back into the unforgiving stone wall of the courtyard with crushing force.

His swords rang on the pavement in the sudden quiet as he collapsed to his hands and knees, coughing for breath. He stared with blank, stunned eyes down at the flagstones under his palms. His defense had been good for a last-minute effort, but it had broken; he'd felt Ayanami's zaiphon against his skin. The taste of it couldn't be mistaken. "You," he rasped, and stopped, because there was a cool edge of steel under his chin. He looked up the length of Ayanami's sword to meet those still, intent eyes.

"Do you yield?" Ayanami inquired calmly.

A shiver ran down Hyuuga's spine, hot with recognition and chill with excitement. His teachers had told him, repeatedly, that a swordsman must always be prepared to meet someone stronger. He'd been torn between hoping and scoffing; it was already clear that he would be stronger than his teachers very soon, and they were the best in Barsburg. He still hadn't met a stronger swordsman, today. But Hyuuga had spoken the truth then he said he was the sword.

And the greatest of swords required, not just another sword to meet, but a hand to wield them.

"I yield to you," he said quietly, and watched Ayanami's brow quirk. Yes. Ayanami heard at least some of what Hyuuga meant. He pushed himself upright, grinning as Ayanami sheathed his blade. "Aya-san is sneaky."

Ayanami actually blinked at that. "I beg your pardon?" Hyuuga's grin widened. Good; he liked Ayanami's seriousness but it was possible to have too much of a good thing.

"I bet you knew what I was all along," he accused with a playful pout. "You could have just said."

"I was reasonably sure," Ayanami agreed, unruffled again. "My family keeps track of these things. But it's well to be entirely sure, when possible. For that, I needed to see your zaiphon."

Hyuuga hauled himself back to his feet, one hand against the wall to steady himself as he bent to retrieve his swords. "Even using mine, I couldn't hold you off," he acknowledged ruefully, feeling his ribs creak. He'd have some spectacular bruises tomorrow.

"You're not weak, though. That's good." Ayanami stepped closer, voice turning softer and deeper. "There are indications that the Emperor is considering sanctioning some of us, to serve the Empire. The strongest of our generation are being sent to the Academy for that reason."

Hyuuga sucked in a quick breath, eyes wide. "Sanctioning us?" he whispered. "But, the Church..." Warsfeil were anathema. Unholy. Both Barsburg and Raggs executed any proven Warsfeil. In fact, the Empire had been getting even more stringent about that, lately, enough that the Fallen families had stopped talking even with each other for fear of drawing the Emperor's attention.

All except Ayanami's family, apparently.

Ayanami's eyes were cool and level. "The Pope has been favoring Raggs increasingly, of late. If the Empire finds itself in need of a counterweight to the Church's strength, then we will serve that purpose."

Hyuuga whistled softly. "You think it's really coming?" He'd hears whispers of war for years, but only ever half believed them.

"Whatever comes, I will meet it in the Empire's service." Ayanami might have been remarking on the chance of rain later that day, but Hyuuga had tasted his edge now, and heard the fire underneath that coolness. "And you?"

Hyuuga grinned; he thought he would like being Ayanami's sword. "Anything you say, Aya-san."

Hyuuga wasn't really surprised when both he and Ayanami were posted inside headquarters after graduation. Someone among the higher-ups must know what he and Ayanami were; his personal pick was Field Marshal Miroku, who seemed to be making a hobby of Ayanami's career. Miroku had a reputation as a cunning strategist who knew when to gamble and when to stand pat. He was gambling on the Academy-trained Warsfeil, but not so wildly that he'd let them out from under his eye. Hyuuga understood that. It just didn't make the first handful years before their real assignment came through any less boring.

And their real assignment wasn't actually that much of an improvement.

"Oh come on," Hyuuga groaned, flopping over the back of his chair and letting the letter of appointment flutter down to the table beside his crossed boots. "We need Imperial permission to leave headquarters?" On pain of having their dispensation to, you know, keep living revoked. Great.

"We will have plenty of work in the field," Ayanami said, hands folded composedly on the table. Hyuuga's mouth quirked at the cool look Aya-san was giving his propped up boots.

"Well, at least you got a promotion out of it. A Major in just three years!"

Ayanami flicked his fingers. "An administrative promotion."

"Mm." Their third member was watching them, leaning on his elbows with his clasped hands against his mouth. "I must presume that the Field Marshal judges you will be a better leader for this unit than I would."

Since Masaru had been a Captain before Ayanami, Hyuuga filled in silently; it had been pretty blatant, to promote Aya-san over him so abruptly. He eyed Masaru, wondering if this would be a problem, fingers tapping thoughtfully against his katana hilt.

"I expect formal rank to mean little among us," Ayanami answered evenly, banked fire in every word. "All that truly matters is our strength, and ability to serve the needs of the Empire. That is the purpose of this unit, and we will fulfill it. Titles mean nothing beside that."

Masaru's eyes had narrowed at Ayanami's first words, a faint haze of almost-zaiphon flickering around his fingers as if he expected a challenge to follow them. By the last words, though he was staring, wide-eyed. Hyuuga grinned; he supposed it could be a little hard to believe, the first time a person came up against that true steel dedication.

"I understand," Masaru said slowly, and bent his head a little. "Ayanami-sama."

"Yep, that's our Aya-san," Hyuuga agreed expansively, leaning his chair back on two legs. Ayanami's hand twitched for a moment, as if with the urge to give Hyuuga's boots a brisk shove and topple him all the way over, and Masaru gave him a mildly admonishing look for his familiarity with their commander. Hyuuga grinned, lacing his hands behind his head.

Maybe their confinement wouldn't be quite such a hassle as he'd thought.

A year later, the Black Hawks had four members, the newest fresh out of the Academy and assigned as Ayanami's Begleiter. Hyuuga, long familiar with Ayanami's desperately workaholic habits, approved mightily.

Besides, Yukikaze was cute.

"Yuki-chan!" he sang, swooping in over the back of Yukikaze's desk chair only to stop short with a grin at the extremely sharp letter opener that was suddenly pressing up under his chin. He liked this kid.

"Yes, Hyuuga-san?" Yukikaze asked calmly, still writing in Ayanami's schedule book with his other hand.

"I got you some of that candy you were drooling over the other day," Hyuuga told him, dropping the paper bag onto the desk so that a few hard candies rolled temptingly out of it. Yukikaze flushed.

"I was not drooling!" He gathered up Ayanami's schedule, ignoring the candy, and marched it over to their commander's desk.

"Hm? Must have been mistaken, then." Hyuuga picked up one of the spilled candies and unwrapped it with a deliberate crackle. Yukikaze spun back around just in time to see Hyuuga popping it into his mouth. "Mm! Oh, hey, these are good." A little sweet, a little tangy: actually he kind of liked that. Maybe he'd have to snitch some more.

Yukikaze was back at his desk in a flash, sweeping the rest of the candy into its bag and whisking the bag into his desk drawer. Hyuuga laughed. "See, I knew you liked them."

"I never claimed I didn't like them," Yukikaze pointed out. "I just said I wasn't drooling."

"Yukikaze," Ayanami's murmur cut through their byplay, "didn't I have an appointment with Procurement after the meeting with the Committee on Military Research this afternoon?"

"Yes, Ayanami-sama." Yukikaze straightened up from locking his drawer. "I spoke with the General's secretary, though. Your meetings with Military Research usually run long, and it turns out that Procurement only really needs your signature."

Ayanami's brow rose. "I believe that was my decision to make."

Yukikaze stood even straighter, nearly at attention, but his tone was firm. Almost scolding. "You're over-scheduled, Ayanami-sama. The other departments take advantage of your conscientiousness. There's no excuse for it."

Ayanami sat back in his chair, eyeing Yukikaze coolly, but the corner of his mouth had quirked up with what Hyuuga could tell was amusement. "I see. That's your considered and experienced opinion, hm?"

Yukikaze bowed without losing one bit of his stubborn expression. "Please forgive me if I've overstepped myself, Ayanami-sama. But it's my duty to look after your work and health both, and I will do so to the very best of my ability."

After a long, silent moment of locked stares, Ayanami set down his schedule book and picked up the report he'd been reading again. "Bring me the document Procurement needs me to sign, then," he directed.

Yukikaze lit up with a soft smile that wasn't even a little triumphant. "Yes, Ayanami-sama."

Hyuuga drifted over to lean on Aya-san's chair. "Aya-tan is so cute with his Yuki-chan," he cooed, and just had to laugh at the identically annoyed looks they both gave him.

It really was kind of adorable.

Five years after the Black Hawks were founded, Hyuuga was pretty satisfied with life. They were a tight unit, and they had enough sweeping successes under their collective belt that the fear he saw every day in the halls had turned from "monsters from under the bed" fear into "deadly elite unit" fear. People got out of their way, and Generals quaked in their boots when they saw Ayanami coming. Hyuuga approved.

So when Yukikaze came to him with the news that Ayanami had locked himself into his rooms and wasn't answering the door, it was a bit of a shock.

He smiled for Yukikaze, though, and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'll go see what's up. You just make sure his paperwork stays caught up." He strolled down to their quarters, tucked away in a spare corner of officer territory so they could all stay close, even though it meant a smaller room than Ayanami was entitled to by now. Sure enough, Aya-san's door was closed and locked.

Hyuuga shrugged and pulled out his wakizashi to bang on the metal door with the metal guard. "Aya-tan!" he caroled loudly. "Open up for your evening serenade! This is your five minute warning!" He checked his watch and leaned against the wall, whistling piercingly and tunelessly just to make sure Ayanami knew he hadn't gone away.

At four minutes and thirty-five seconds, the lock clicked.

Hyuuga frowned a little when the door wasn't opened, but it slid open at his touch. All the lights were off, when he stepped in, and his eyes narrowed. He slipped aside, back to the wall, and let the door hiss shut again. "Aya-san?"

One of the shadows beside the polarized window stirred.

"What is it?" Hyuuga asked quietly. It wasn't like their driven commander to brood, much less lock out his own unit. Had they gotten a suicide mission or something?

Ayanami's voice was low and velvety in the dimness. "How many demands on your loyalty will you accept, Hyuuga?"

Hyuuga cocked his head, watching details emerge as his eyes adjusted. Aya-san had his back turned, as if looking out the darkened window. "As many as you make, you know that."

"And if I demanded your eyes and your hands?" Ayanami asked, so distant and casual it made Hyuuga's neck prickle. That was how Aya-san sounded when he talked to Generals: disengaged. He shouldn't sound like that with his own people. "If I demanded your body to move to my command?"

Hyuuga crossed his arms, leaning his shoulders back against the chill of the wall. "You have those already," he pointed out. "I'm your sword. You can wield me as you wish."

Finally, Ayanami turned to face him, eyes gleaming in the half-light. "And if I demanded your life? Your soul in my hand?"

Hyuuga blinked. Was that what this was about? "Aya-tan," he sighed, running a hand thought his hair. "We're all Warsfeil here, you don't have to dance around the question. If you want a soul contract to act through me, all you have to do is say." Never mind that such a thing was legend. This was Aya-san; if he thought he could do it, Hyuuga would believe he could.

Ayanami stepped away from the window. "Are you saying you agree?"

Hyuuga snorted and shoved off the wall. He crossed the room to Ayanami in a few firm steps and dropped down to his knees, catching Ayanami's hand and pressing it to his chest. "Don't insult me," he said low and fierce, looking up. "You've had my soul in your palm from the day we first fought. If you choose to close your hand now, that's your right. Take whatever you want from me."

Ayanami stood very still for two long breaths before his other hand finally lifted and threaded through Hyuuga's hair, fingers gentle. "Yes," he murmured.

That was all the warning Hyuuga got before ice was driving into his chest, into something that wasn't his body. Burning cold fingers kneaded the very core of him, unbearably intimate, and he was distantly aware of his body, pulled into a bone-cracking arch of tension, of his voice, hoarse and wordless. It was more intense than any pain or pleasure he'd ever felt and in the roaring silence of his mind he prayed for it to continue and begged for it to stop. One of Ayanami's hands cradled his head carefully while the other touched him, traced him, pulled his soul in half, stretching his life and breath agonizingly thin as part was taken away from him into darkness.

Slowly, he noticed he was shaking. That his throat was raw. That the darkness around him was the dimness of Ayanami's rooms. That he was being held against Ayanami's shoulder as every muscle shuddered helplessly. His soul, the part of him that commanded Wars and shaped zaiphon, ached and burned, but he could still feel, just a little, the coolness of Ayanami's fingers stroking it.

The key of his life belonged to Ayanami, now.

Which made today no different than yesterday, really.

"Told you so," he finally managed, husky, and Ayanami's shoulder trembled against his chest with a silent chuckle.

"Indeed." Aya-san's voice was warm again.

A bare few weeks later, it was Masaru's turn to spend several days pale and wobbly, and that was when Hyuuga started to wonder, and to remember just who it was that legend said could do such things to living human souls. Let alone two or three at once. It wasn't until years later that he remembered that the week Ayanami had taken Hyuuga's soul to him had been the same week that the Emperor's chief researcher had received a medal for unspecified services to the Empire, and the week that young Princess Ouka had been confirmed as heir.

The princess who would eventually wield the Eye of Raphael in war—or, at least, who would be used to do so. The researcher who tampered with the Eye and its master so that another could command it. The Eye that was said to seal the power of Verloren.

Knowing made no difference to him, of course.

Hyuuga didn't think the soul division had any side-effects, under most circumstances. But the day Ayanami came to them and said, "War is declared," he knew the driving fire of dedication that licked at his heart wasn't his own. That was the taste of Aya-san.

He could see it catching in all of them.

Masaru bowed, hand on his sword hilt. "What are our duties, Ayanami-sama?" he asked, eagerness burning through his usual smiling courtesy.

"We are tasked with capturing or killing the Raggs royal family." Ayanami's face was still and intent. "Nothing must be permitted to interfere or hinder us. Nothing."

Even Yukikaze, normally the gentlest of them, was hard-eyed. "Nothing will. We swear it, Ayanami-sama."

Hyuuga bent his head, smiling. "Don't worry, Aya-tan." He met their commander's eyes over the edge of his glasses. "It'll be our pleasure."

Ayanami's fire flared in his blood, and Hyuuga's breath caught softly. "Entirely our pleasure," he purred.

The war was over. It had taken a hard toll on the Black Hawks. Masaru was officially dead and had returned to them only in the guise of an enemy: Katsuragi.

Yukikaze was dead for real.

"You didn't release his soul, did you?" Hyuuga asked quietly, leaning in the door of Ayanami's office, watching his oldest friend standing at a darkened window again. "Yuki-chan's."

Ayanami didn't even shrug, and his voice was remote. "I was not holding it closely at the moment he died."

"You always held his soul pretty damn closely," Hyuuga said bluntly.

Ayanami didn't stir. "You will not speak of this, Hyuuga."

Hyuuga rolled his eyes. Aya-san could be so damn stubborn sometimes. "Look—"

This time, Ayanami answered him with steel. Hyuuga froze, keeping his hands still at his sides as Ayanami's sword pressed delicately against his neck.

"You will not speak of this." There was a ragged edge under the coldness of Ayanami's voice, now, and Hyuuga closed his eyes.

"All right," he said softly, and waited for the pressure to come off his throat before he lowered his chin and sighed. "Remember you still have us, though," and his mouth quirked as he finished, "Aya-tan." As Ayanami's eyes narrowed, he fished in his pocket and pulled out a candy to ceremoniously unwrap and pop into his mouth, lounging back casually in the doorway. He raised his brows at Aya-san. "Hmm?"

Ayanami gave him a tight-lipped look for the obvious reminders of their lost member, but in the end he only turned abruptly to his desk and picked up a pen. Hyuuga smiled around his candy.

He would, he assured Yuki-chan's memory, take care of Aya-san.

The headquarter Generals were getting to be an increasing pain in the ass. It didn't matter to them that the Black Hawks had the best success record of any unit in the entire Armed Forces. It didn't matter to them that Aya-san could actually deal with the Military Minister and even the Emperor and make sense of their orders. All they saw was how fast Ayanami had risen in the ranks, and that his appointment to Chief of Staff had been Miroku's last action before retiring, and they howled about favoritism and upstarts.

It really got on Hyuuga's nerves.

Today, that officious little insect Ogi had come into the actual field with them, along with a handful of his bootlicking staff, to "independently evaluate their performance" on the boring little rebellion the Black Hawks had been sent to put down. He'd been making sure to let them see him scribbling on his little clipboard and frowning judiciously.

Hyuuga didn't like boring missions that wasted their time and didn't have any good fights for him, so he was already in an edgy mood. When Ogi actually started berating Ayanami for getting his uniform bloody in battle he decided enough was enough.

"Ooo, Aya-tan," he interrupted when Ogi paused for breath, eyes theatrically wide behind his glasses. "He's right! Just look at all that blood on your sword hand!" Which was true, even after Ayanami had stripped off his soaked gloves. Hyuuga smiled, slow and wide, and murmured, "Well, we can't have that can we?" He strolled up to Ayanami's side and sank fluidly down to his knees, catching Ayanami's hand in his. He slanted a sidelong glance at Ogi, lip curled wickedly as he licked a line of blood from the back of Aya-san's hand.

Kuroyuri squeaked and Ogi choked, and Hyuuga smirked as he turned Ayanami's hand and ran his tongue slowly up Ayanami's blood-streaked palm. He took his time about it, enjoying the way Ogi's eyes got wider and wider, and his little pack of jackals started edging backwards. A quick look up at Aya-san told Hyuuga that he was amused; he didn't show it, of course, but he was standing there quite calmly, looking down at Hyuuga without surprise, just as if his subordinates licked the blood off his hands every day. Under the amusement was hint of heat.

Hyuuga definitely took his time after that. No sense doing a job half-way, after all. Besides, the sharpness of blood was already in his mouth from their brief battle, and he liked the taste of it on Ayanami's skin. It was cutting and real, more satisfying than any opponent he'd found today. He half closed his eyes and wrapped his mouth around Aya-san's fingers, savoring the way they flexed against his tongue.

By the time he was done, Ogi and his staffers had retreated in disorder. Hyuuga chuckled as he slowly sucked the last iron trace off Aya-san's middle finger. "There, now," he said brightly. "All better."

"Indeed," Ayanami murmured, fingertips brushing Hyuuga's mouth before he drew back and turned away. Hyuuga laughed as he stood and caught sight of Kuroyuri and Konatsu, both red as beets and staring with eyes the size of saucers. It was Konatsu who finally managed a strangled, "Major...!"

"Don't worry," Hyuuga told him, ruffling his hair. "You'll understand when you're older." He grinned as his new Begleiter sputtered in outrage, and tucked his hands in his pockets, strolling back toward their ship in Ayanami's wake.

Aya-san's touch lingered on his lips.

Hyuuga considered it his special job within the unit to make sure that Ayanami didn't go too crazy. Usually this was simple—just a matter of hanging over Aya-san's shoulder on days when they were especially straight or his mouth got a little too tight, teasing until Ayanami snapped and went for his whip. It was fun, like sparring only different. A game they played.

Sometimes they played it harder than others, of course.

"You know, Aya-tan," Hyuuga remarked, draped over the back of Ayanami's chair, "you should take a break from the paperwork now and then. Live a little! Go out for dinner instead of eating in the cafeteria!"

Ayanami's fingers were getting tighter on his pen.

"You could go to one of the restaurants where the officers hang out, and the girls come to sigh over the heroes," Hyuuga continued, watching for the moment Aya-san would drop the pen. "You could even get laid!"

He expected that crack to be the one that sent him rolling aside from Ayanami's whip, but what he felt instead was a cold twinge in his chest and stomach. It made him still for a moment, eyes widening behind his glasses. That was Aya-san's hand on his soul, tightening his grip for just a moment.

That was his warning, on nights they played a harder game. If Hyuuga kept pressing, what he faced wouldn't be a weapon he could avoid or blow he could roll with.

Hyuuga smiled, slow and dark.

He pushed himself off the back of Ayanami's chair and strolled around the desk, keeping his face turned away so Ayanami would see only his back. His uniform. "Come on, Ayanami," he taunted, dropping all the familiar forms he usually called his commander by, calling him what his enemies did, "you can't really be an automaton, the way they say you are. It'd do you good!"

Over his shoulder he watched Ayanami rising slowly to his feet and stepping out from behind the desk also. Good.

"Or maybe that's not it," Hyuuga murmured, thinking about the vicious gossip he'd heard most often lately. "Maybe you just don't want to be around the other officers and hear people saying it again. That you slept your way to the top."

The first lash of Ayanami's rage sliced into his soul, burning like frozen metal, and he staggered under it, gasping. Ayanami's face was set and still, but his eyes were bright. Gleaming. Furious.

Beautiful.

"With Miroku-sama, isn't that how it goes?" Hyuuga managed, lowering his head to keep Aya-san focused on his uniform and words, not his face, not who he really was. "Or the Emperor. Maybe both."

Ayanami's grip licked out between the halves of Hyuuga's soul, wrapping around him like a fist and squeezing until Hyuuga's sense of himself broke and ran between those steel fingers. His legs gave out under the force of it and he stumbled down to hands and knees, chest heaving. The fingers of Ayanami's control thrust into the very core of him, ruthless and precise. The chill and fire of Ayanami's presence inside him, wild and furious, set his body twisting, trying to get away and trying to press into the punishing intrusion.

The raw strength of it made him hard.

"That's why they all think you'll be their dog, now," he gasped, and moaned out loud as Ayanami's will raked his soul harder. His arms gave out and dropped him down, prostrate on the rug at Ayanami's feet. There was no part of him that wasn't in Ayanami's grip, now. He was pinned down under the sword of Ayanami's power driven into him to the hilt, flayed open by its edge. It was absolute intimacy, unnatural, almost unbearable except that it was Aya-san's hand on him. Hyuuga was a Warsfeil, born to be a sword drawn by this hand, and his hips jerked helplessly against the floor in response to that taste of blood and steel in his soul.

His voice was gone now and he was lost in immaterial sensation, the reason for it nearly forgotten, but he recognized when Ayanami's touch started to turn less harsh, started to caress as well as cut. "Aya-san," he whispered, in answer. The touch on his soul softened still more, shaping him gently back to himself, stroking the taut, trembling fibers of his being until they eased. His body gradually turned limp and boneless against the floor as his soul quieted under Ayanami's hand. He heard quiet steps approaching, heard the rustle of fabric, felt light fingers brushing his hair back, and drew a slow breath as his mind started working again. He cleared his throat softly.

"Forgive me." He always asked for Ayanami's forgiveness, these nights, because he hated the thought that Aya-san might take the things he said to heart even for a moment.

"There's nothing to forgive," Ayanami murmured, fingers still carding through his sweat-damp hair. "Not for you."

Hyuuga smiled wryly into the carpet. This was the other thing that was always said.

Sure enough, Ayanami added, quietly, "This is a dangerous game, Hyuuga."

"Aya-tan." Hyuuga pushed himself onto his side with a shaky arm so he could look up at his friend, amused and exasperated. "You know I love doing it." There was a wet spot on the front of his pants to bear witness to that.

He figured Aya-san had noticed when he raised a brow at Hyuuga.

Hyuuga laughed. "What?" he lowered his voice to a husky purr. "My soul likes to feel its master's hand now and then." He looked up at Ayanami, half teasing and entirely serious, and smiled as Ayanami's shoulders relaxed all the way.

Aya-san always offered him an end to their games, offered the kind of cherished safety he held the other Black Hawks in. None of the others would ever be wrung like this by their commander's will. Neither would Hyuuga, unless he chose it. He knew that.

He chose it every time.

He chose the ice and steel, and the burning lash of Ayanami's fury. He was the sword, and those were the things that made the world come alive in his mouth and heart. He also loved the soft caress of Aya-san's fingers against his soul, of course, but that wasn't what made the world brighter.

He caught Ayanami's hand and kissed his fingers. "I will serve you in every way, in every time, with my heart and soul. I will defend you with my life."

Ayanami's touch on his soul warmed, though he was silent for a long moment. At last he murmured, "If it comes to that."

Hyuuga smiled up at him, content with that permission.

He knew it would come to that, eventually.

End

The One Who Fashions You on the Outside

Ayanami and Hyuuga spar together. It turns into something a little different once Hyuuga stops defending himself against Ayanami's zaiphon. Written for the Oh My God We Need Some Porn in Here Stat meme, and the prompt Ayanami/Hyuuga, edges. Porn, BDSM, I-4

The Black Hawks weren't really suited to training in enclosed areas, at least not if those areas were supposed to stay enclosed. So as often as Ayanami could wring permission out of the government, they stopped in at the small floating island, F34, just outside and a long way above the capitol.

It was not, Hyuuga thought, much of an island. It only had a name because the military used it for weapons testing.

And for Warsfeil to train, which was kind of the same thing.

Today, he'd sent Konatsu off to stalk Katsuragi through the wind-twisted stone of the island's west side, practicing how to track an opponent who could hide his presence. It was something his Begleiter needed to work on and Hyuuga was looking forward to seeing how he would solve this problem without power of his own. Besides, Ayanami had agreed to a work out with Hyuuga himself, and that always required some extra space. It wasn't that Ayanami was profligate with his zaiphon; far from it, actually, he was as precise with those attacks as Hyuuga was with his swords. But if Hyuuga didn't have room to move, Aya-san would pin him down in short order and that wasn't much use for training.

Or much fun, either.

Hyuuga laughed as he twisted aside from Ayanami's attack, caught his sword on Hyuuga's wakizashi and spun to strike for Ayanami's back with his long blade. A single line of zaiphon threw him back and Hyuuga showed his teeth, landing light on his toes and driving his own zaiphon out through his katana to carve apart the rock where Ayanami stood. Ayanami didn't move; his zaiphon spiraled around him, tight and perfect, and Hyuuga's broke against it.

After two more exchanges whose simplicity drew Hyuuga's nerves tighter, Ayanami finally flicked his sword out level, one hand against the flat of the blade. Hyuuga had known it was coming, and he crossed his swords before him to catch it, hot lines of zaiphon scribing down the blades as he sprang back to put some distance between himself and Ayanami's focused attack.

That did about as much good as ever.

Ayanami's zaiphon cracked his like a chisel hammered into steel, and the burning force of it wrote itself across his body. Hyuuga hit the ground hard and rolled up to his feet, breath heaving in his chest as his cock hardened. When a strike like that connected he could taste Ayanami's power on his tongue, and he had to work to keep his focus. It was good practice; no one else he'd encountered had been able break his focus for years, now.

Though it might, on reflection, have been a mistake to admit that to Aya-san.

The quirk of Ayanami's mouth made Hyuuga brace himself warily. Ayanami started casting line after line of zaiphon against his defense, bursting against the zaiphon wrapped around Hyuuga's swords until it was nearly a scent in the air. Hyuuga lunged into it, fighting to close with Ayanami, to get back into range where his swords would have the advantage, but now Ayanami was moving too, keeping out of weapon's reach while his zaiphon bound Hyuuga's.

And eventually started breaking through.

Hyuuga gasped as Ayanami's power bit into him, burned into his skin, brutal and sharp, so precise he could almost read the words that formed it. No... he could read them.

...my hunters....

...my chosen...

Hyuuga's head whipped up and he stared across the field of stone between them. Ayanami smiled, a slow curl of lips, and lifted his hand again, zaiphon twined around it in threat and promise. Another line, another, and Hyuuga could feel his defense faltering, fatally undermined by his hunger for Ayanami's power and the temptation Aya-san had put in his path today. Another line that traced my sword against his ribs, and Hyuuga knew he was defeated. He stood square in the path of Ayanami's zaiphon and let his swords fall and took it.

It burned like fire, with the icy slash of a sword cut, and Hyuuga's body jerked under the force of it. He could taste blood. But now he could read the words clearly.

...soul that belongs to me...

...my sword to draw and use...

Line after line struck him and left Hyuuga gasping desperately for breath. He didn't know if his eyes were closed or if he was blinded by the darkness of Ayanami's zaiphon. All he knew was the bite of that power into his body and the wild intensity of pain and pleasure and need that it etched into him.

...who surrenders all that he is to me...

...your master...

It was the cutting caress of that last line across his skin that finished Hyuuga, and he screamed as heat raked through him like claws, on and on and on, until it left him collapsed on the ground barely able to breathe. He couldn't even lift his head as Ayanami's footsteps approached, until Aya-san's fingers wrapped around his chin and drew his head up.

Ayanami was smiling. "You're so demanding, Hyuuga," he murmured.

Hyuuga managed a shaky grin. "But Aya-tan, you like me that way."

"Mm." Ayanami's thumb stroked over his mouth. "I suppose I do."

Hyuuga's lips parted under the touch, and he closed his eyes as Ayanami leaned in, surrendering without question to the slow kiss. He wasn't sure he knew how to do anything else, when Aya-san was involved. He did know he didn't want to.

Ayanami's zaiphon had spoken the truth.

End

Strength in Trembling

Hyuuga has a real Thing for Ayanami's whip, and Ayanami has noticed this. Eventually, he decides to cut past the teasing and give Hyuuga what he's angling for. Porn, BDSM, I-4

One of Hyuuga's great entertainments in life was to tease his commander. Aya-san spent way too much of his time being serious, and Hyuuga felt it was his solemn duty to make sure Aya-san's face didn't freeze like that. And, while Aya-san made a great show of being annoyed by the teasing, he always played along. It was always his whip he went for, when Hyuuga was teasing, never his sword, never his zaiphon, not a brisk backhand; actually, when Aya-san responded with only a quick cuff, that was when Hyuuga knew he was genuinely supposed to straighten up and take things seriously. No, when they were playing it was always the whip, which was frankly the show-off option. Aya-san's speed and control with it were things of beauty.

And, to be honest, it made Hyuuga a little hot to watch. It sometimes made him regret that they only ever played to first touch, in those little matches. But he'd take what he could get, and that was why he was teasing Aya-san again today, lounging beside his desk in the most relaxed attitude possible while Aya-san worked methodically through a stack of tedious-looking paperwork. Aya-san's eyes were already just a little narrowed with annoyance, which was a good start.

"I'm sure you have work of your own to be doing, Hyuuga," Aya-san told him, not looking up from the papers.

Hyuuga took a cheery bite out of his candied apple. "Nope! Konatsu will catch anything that really needs attention. So I don't have anything that needs doing this afternoon." He slouched more comfortably into the chair, keeping an eye on Aya-san's hands; after a crack like that, he expected today's game to get off to a quick start.

So he was nonplused when Aya-san paused and looked up at him. "In fact," his commander murmured, "you have an assignment on your desk to take care of a little noble's rebellion in the Third District. I know because I put it there." Hyuuga blinked, startled, and Aya-san folded his hands contemplatively on his desk. "You don't ordinarily ignore that kind of work in favor of your games."

Hyuuga opened his mouth and closed it again, ruefully remembering that he was speaking to one of the premier strategists of the Imperial Armed Forces. "I wouldn't want you to feel neglected, Aya-tan."

Aya-san gave him the faintly exasperated look he seemed to save especially for Hyuuga. "I'm not in that much need of a break, Hyuuga." And then his eyes narrowed and he added, softer. "Are you? Is it a sparring match you're after?"

Hyuuga smiled at him sunnily. "You know I'll always take a match with you." Which was only the truth.

"Hm." Aya-san stood and came around the desk, arms folded, looking down at him thoughtfully. As if absently, his fingers brushed over the coil of his whip, and Hyuuga really couldn't help the way his eyes flickered down to it for a single instant. When he forced them back up, Aya-san was smiling, amused. "So that's it."

Hyuuga felt his face heating a little. He did try not to be too demanding. It wasn't his fault that Aya-san could read him like a book.

"Come with me," Aya-san ordered briskly, and turned toward the door. Hyuuga trailed after with a wry smile. He should really stop thinking he could hide things from Aya-san.

They weren't headed for any of the training halls that the Black Hawks sometimes used for pure weapons work, though, and puzzlement tugged at Hyuuga as they passed through the offices and into the halls of the officer's quarters. Was there something Aya-san wanted from his rooms? When they arrived, Aya-san beckoned Hyuuga in with a tilt of his head. Hyuuga shrugged and slipped in after him.

Aya-san's rooms were neat and orderly, almost painfully so; even the cushions on the couches were carefully squared up. At this hour the wide windows were in soft shadow as the light of the setting sun streamed past from the other side of the Fortress. Aya-san liked to have the morning sun instead. The indirect light was warm and low and a little unworldly.

In that light, Aya-san turned to face him, and Hyuuga was struck all over again by his commander's beauty and danger, balanced as a fine blade. When Aya-san said quietly, "Come here, Hyuuga," he did. He wasn't sure where this was going, but, then, he didn't need to know.

Aya-san smiled up at him, eyes sharp, and murmured, "If you want the whip, Hyuuga, all you need to do is ask for it."

Shock and heat struck through Hyuuga like lightning grounding.

"Do you?" Aya-san asked.

Abruptly breathless with what Aya-san was offering him, Hyuuga wet his lips. "Yes," he answered, husky. "Yes, I want it." And not just to first touch, this time.

Aya-san's smile curled a bit wider. "Tell me," he said softly, and Hyuuga had to close his eyes for a moment.

"I want to feel it," he whispered. "More than just one touch. I want to feel what you can do with it, god I want..." He took a shaky breath. He hadn't honestly thought Aya-san would ever offer him this, and the thought being on the other end of Aya-san's whip, not as a game but purely so that he could taste the intensity and artistry of it, made his knees a little weak.

Aya-san nodded. "Get undressed, then."

Hyuuga had to take a few seconds to steady his fingers on the buckles of his own uniform, but eventually he peeled himself out of everything and tossed his clothing over the arm of Aya-san's couch. When he turned around he had to take another second, because Aya-san had stripped off his cap and gloves, his sword and coat, even his shirt, and the shift of muscles in his back as he drew the length of his whip slowly through his hands made Hyuuga swallow hard. When Aya-san turned around, he was smiling.

"Stand here at the window," he directed quietly, and Hyuuga did as he said, breath picking up as he turned his back to Aya-san and looked out over the glow of the city. A shiver brushed through him as Aya-san's hands slid slowly down his arms. It came back, stronger, when strings of light coiled down after Aya-san's fingers and lifted his arms over his head. They were weightless, there was no pressure on his arms at all, but he couldn't move them. More curled down his legs, holding him spread open in place.

"Aya-san," he breathed.

A new touch slid over his back, rough but butterfly light against his skin. The whip, he realized, light-headed, snaking in ceaseless S curves, side to side.

"What I can do with it," Aya-san murmured thoughtfully behind him. "Yes. I'll show you that, Hyuuga." The whip snaked over Hyuuga's ass soft as a promise and he heard Aya-san stepping back a few strides. His senses strained, poised and waiting, and he tensed hearing the soft hiss of the whip through the air.

It barely kissed his back, a single delicate sting, light and teasing. Another. Another, tracking down his body like a scatter of sparks. They flirted with Hyuuga, each bite tiny and promising, until he he was hard, arched against the strings binding him, and making pleading sounds through his teeth. "Aya-san..."

Aya-san laughed softly, and the next stroke didn't sting; it laid a stripe of pressure against his skin, sharp and defined but almost soft in contrast. Again, and again, and Hyuuga could feel the way Aya-san was loosening each stroke at the last moment, easing the force from it. It made him flushed, a little dizzy, because this wasn't the way they sparred. This was the way Aya-san made love.

On the next stroke, the whip cracked and Hyuuga moaned as another spark bit the inside of his thigh, just high enough to make his hips jerk futilely against the hold of Aya-san's strings. "Aya-san." The whip fell on his back again, harder and slowly harder, each stroke driving deeper into his muscles, heating them, burning his skin, printing Ayanami's mark on him.

Hyuuga was starting to lose everything but the feeling of the whip against his body, the hard, burning lines of it across his back and ass and down his thighs. He could see the city spread out in front of him but he couldn't pay attention to it. He could hear the sounds of the Fortress around them but none of them mattered except the sound of the whip cutting the air and licking his skin. He could feel sweat on his skin and didn't know whether he was hot or cold. He was achingly hard and all he wanted was for Ayanami not to stop.

The whip was heavy on him now, jerking his body in the hold of Ayanami's strings stroke after stroke, and he was panting with it. It was sweet and intense, electric and maddening, and he yearned toward it even as it rose toward an unbearable crest. There was only raw sensation, now, a vast, hot weight of it built up under the blows of Ayanami's whip, poised to crush him and lifting him up with every gasped breath. A hard crack of the whip across his back sent him arching senselessly against the strings, body trembling. Another stroke. Another. Breath was rasping in his throat and he wavered, senses on the edge of falling into darkness.

Quiet fell. There was warmth against his back, solid and resilient, and hands stroking slowly up and down his body, easing him back to the world. He couldn't stand, but the strings held him up. Gradually, he recognized Ayanami's words against his ear.

"...easy, Hyuuga. We're done."

Hyuuga rested his head against one of his bound arms, lips parted as he panted for breath. "Ayanami-sama," he finally whispered, hoarse. It was the only thing that even started to get at how he felt in this time and place, after being brought to the edge like that.

"Yes," Ayanami murmured to him. His hands moved gently over the slowly settling burn in Hyuuga's back. "Was that what you needed?"

Hyuuga nodded quietly. He felt more wrung out than even sparring usually left him.

"Good." The strings moved, moving him with them to turn and face Ayanami, who smiled slowly and drew his head down to a gentle kiss. Gentler than Ayanami usually was with him, and Hyuuga was grateful for it. He felt too raw and open right now to take anything else.

Ayanami looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before going to the sideboard for a glass of water. He came back and fed it to Hyuuga a sip at a time without freeing him; Hyuuga remembered Konatsu doing rather the same thing the last time Hyuuga had woken up from getting a sword through him, and wondered if Ayanami had told him what to do. Finally, Ayanami led him to the bed and let him down onto it, releasing the strings. Hyuuga curled up on his side, still dazed, content to let Ayanami draw a blanket over him and sit beside him, fingers combing through his hair. "You're going to be marked from this," Ayanami remarked, eventually, and Hyuuga shivered a little, eyes closing.

"Yes," he murmured, husky. "I want that." He wanted to carry this with him for a while, the memory of that amazing touch, so skillful and so intense. The memory of Ayanami's gentleness, after the ferocity. "Ayanami-sama," he said again, softly, almost entreating, on the edge of apology. Normally, he was the one who never called Ayanami that, who never demanded, by word or sign, that his friend act as his superior, the responsible leader. But right now, marked so hard and deep by Ayanami's skill, he couldn't do anything else.

Ayanami was silent for a moment. "I value your friendship, Hyuuga," he said at last, quietly. "But your reverence is not a burden to me. You don't need to hide it. Remember that."

Hyuuga's breath caught and he found himself trembling under Ayanami's hand, under that permission and release. He bowed his head under Ayanami's fingers and whispered, "Yes, Ayanami-sama."

For just a little while he wanted to show this openly, his love and, yes, reverence for this man. Soon, he knew, he'd go back to wanting to tweak his oldest friend's nose and tease him out of his seriousness. But for now, he could be as the other Black Hawks were, could worship the man as much as the god.

His friend would still be there on the other side.

Hyuuga lay quiet under Ayanami's touch and let the moment be everything and all that it was.

End

The Name of the Sound

Ayanami is more volatile than usual. This time, Hyuuga gets broken harder than usual. And then he has to explain the whole thing to Konatsu. Drama, Non-explicit BDSM, I-5

Hyuuga strolled down the halls of headquarters with a bounce in his step. He always liked it when he got an assignment that was actually fun. Or could be made fun.

"Is Ayanami-sama actually going to accept the idea that you were honor bound to engage in single combat with the whole Gibraldan home guard?" Konatsu asked dubiously, at his elbow.

"Sure he will!" Hyuuga asserted with perfect confidence. In fact, Aya-san would believe nothing of the sort, but he would roll his eyes on the inside and be amused, which came to more or less the same thing. "Just let me do the talking while we report."

"I wouldn't dream of doing anything else."

Hyuuga fancied Konatsu's grim tone covered up a certain amount of amusement there, too. Or at least anticipation. Konatsu always seemed to feel vindicated when Aya-san squelched Hyuuga's teasing. He didn't realize yet that was just Aya-san's way of teasing back. Hyuuga was kind of looking forward to getting to see Konatsu's expression the day he did figure it out. He was smiling as he threw open the door of Aya-san's office. "Aya-tan! We're back from our trip and we brought you souvenirs!"

Ayanami turned away from where he stood at his window, and Hyuuga stilled abruptly at the icy distance in his eyes. Something very close to panic sizzled through him as he looked into the bottomless gaze of Verloren's memories. If he were alone, he could tease or coax or yield, whatever it took to get Aya-san back from the depths of the past, but he wasn't alone today.

"Konatsu," he said quietly, "I'll make our report myself. Go. Now."

Konatsu looked up at him, puzzled. He didn't recognize what Ayanami was right now; Hyuuga had taken some care to keep him away when Ayanami got like this. Perhaps that had been a mistake.

"But..." Konatsu cut off, eyes widening as Hyuuga's hand closed hard on his shoulder.

"Now."

"You overstep yourself." Ayanami's voice was cool and dangerous, and it was rage that flickered behind his eyes today. Not something teasing or coaxing was going to work on.

Not something Konatsu should be present while Hyuuga dealt with.

Hyuuga took a step forward, hoping he could distract Ayanami's attention. "Lord," he said, level and firm, "Konatsu is your own blood and he serves you well. Your anger shouldn't fall on him." From the corner of his eye, he saw Konatsu stiffen, startled and still. Yes, he should definitely have told Konatsu that sometimes the Black Hawks truly did deal with their Lord directly. Hindsight was distressingly acute. Hyuuga stiffened a little himself as Ayanami approached them with a faint, dark smile. His hands curled into fists at his sides as Ayanami stopped beside him, looking at Konatsu.

"You have the arrogance to tell me what I should and should not do, Hyuuga?"

Hyuuga winced; he'd known that was a provocation with Ayanami in this mood, but he'd hoped it would focus Ayanami on him. That... seemed to have backfired. Ayanami took Konatsu's chin in his fingers, looking down at him with cold eyes. Konatsu stood without resistance, barely breathing, eyes wide and alarmed. "Are you saying," Ayanami asked Hyuuga without taking his eyes off Konatsu, "that you don't serve me well? In contrast to Konatsu."

Hyuuga swallowed, relief and tension winding together down his spine. Ayanami was playing with him; he wasn't really focused on Konatsu. This could still go well, if he could guess what would satisfy Ayanami, and call it on himself alone. He took a slow breath, considering his options. "If you break me, I'll survive it and live to serve you after," he finally said, alternately hot and cold with what he was naming and offering, but he suspected that, after challenging Ayanami in this temper, nothing less would suffice. He bent his head down, underlining his offer. "If it's me."

"Indeed." There was a smile in Ayanami's voice, a dark one. "Go, Konatsu."

Hyuuga glanced over from the corner of his eye to see Konatsu, visibly shaking, bow deeply and back to the door. He let out a deeply relieved breath as it closed behind the boy. And then he had to swallow with the heat and apprehension coiling through him as Ayanami turned to him.

"Look at me, Hyuuga."

Hyuuga lifted his head and his lungs locked. The force of Ayanami's gaze on him was like a blow, and he felt breathless, unbearable pressure at the core of himself. An increasing pressure. Rather like someone with a sheet of mica between his hands, pressing on the center with both thumbs.

Like the sheet of mica, it wasn't long at all before Hyuuga's soul snapped into glittering shards in Ayanami's hands.

That was only the beginning.

"...and I've never seen the Major do anything like that before, what's going on?! Ayanami-sama was... I mean, he was..."

Katsuragi ran a hand through his hair and sighed as Konatsu faltered into silence. "There are times our Lord's memories are stronger in Ayanami-sama than others. And our Lord has both great sorrow and great fury in him. Hyuuga is the one who can deal best with him, when he's like this."

Konatsu frowned, worry plain in his face. "But what—" He jerked to his feet and spun toward the door of the Black Hawk's small common room as the first scream rang down the corridor. Katsuragi grabbed his arm before he could run.

"Haruse," he said calmly. "Close the door." He scolded himself for not thinking to do that sooner; as soon as Konatsu started talking, it had been clear just how dangerous a mood Ayanami-sama was in. Konatsu whirled on him, outraged, even as Haruse pulled the door firmly to, closing out the sounds from down the hall.

"Katsuragi-taisa!"

"Hyuuga knows what he's doing," Katsuragi stated flatly. "He got you out of the way for a reason; there's nothing you could do that would help. Don't interfere." He softened a little at the stricken look Konatsu gave him and guided the boy to a seat and poured him a cup of coffee. The heat would do him good. "I know it's hard to believe, right now," he said as Konatsu wrapped shaking hands around the cup, "but Hyuuga does this willingly."

"Hyuuga and this," Kuroyuri said softly, curled up on the couch with her arms wrapped around her knees. "It's kind of like me and flavors." She cocked her head at Konatsu. "You know how it needs to be really strong for me to taste? Like that."

Konatsu bit his lip and Katsuragi rested a hand on his head. "Wait here for him. You'll see." He fetched a cup of coffee for himself and inquired how Konatsu and Hyuuga's last assignment had gone, keeping the boy talking so he wouldn't listen too hard to the faint, desperate sounds still coming through the closed door.

For a long time he drifted in the darkness of his mind and soul. Broken bits of excitement, fear, unbearable and unidentifiable response flickered through and past him. Eventually, slowly, he came back enough to remember a few things. Who and where he was. Who was with him. That sent a jolt of heat and dread through him, though he couldn't put words to why, yet, even in his own head. Anxiety wrapped around him, sourceless until he finally recognized that there were hands on him, an arm around him, fingers brushing back his hair and gently removing his glasses. When Hyuuga managed to open his eyes, seeing Ayanami looking down at him gave him another jolt.

"Lord," his lips formed, driven to respond though his throat was too raw to really say it.

Ayanami pressed two fingers lightly against his lips. "Shh. Be still, Hyuuga. It's all right."

Hyuuga sagged back, relaxing. That was Aya-san; it was Aya-san's hand that rested warm on his chest, Aya-san's zaiphon that curled delicately around long fingers. After another few, dazed moments, he realized that Aya-san must be healing him.

After a time, while he lay in Aya-san's hold, quiet and contented under the hand piecing his body and soul back together, Aya-san asked quietly, "Why did you provoke me?"

Hyuuga shrugged just a little, still shaky with reaction to what Ayanami had done to him. "I wanted to be sure you focused on me and not Konatsu."

Aya-san gave him a slightly reproving look. "You know perfectly well how to turn my anger aside, if you were worried about Konatsu."

Hyuuga smiled up at him, relaxing more as Aya-san's power smoothed away the strain in his body, the lingering twinges of pain in his soul. "Yeah, but I'm the one you don't have to hold back with. I'm not going to change that."

Aya-san looked down at him for a long moment, hand resting against his chest. "Everything changes eventually."

Hyuuga's mouth quirked and he let his head rest against Aya-san's shoulder as his body and soul settled back into solidity. "I'm yours," he answered simply. "Everything I am is in your hands. If you choose to break me, I'll submit. If you choose to heal me, I'll submit. Always" He smiled. "Some day you'll believe that."

"'Always' is an illusion, Hyuuga." Hyuuga wrinkled his nose at Aya-san's stubbornness but held his peace and let Aya-san help him back to his feet. "Can you walk?"

Hyuuga stretched his legs a bit cautiously and nodded. "Yeah." He smiled wryly. "And I'd better walk wherever Konatsu got to and reassure him the world isn't ending."

Aya-san held his eyes for a long moment and finally drew him down gently and kissed him. "Rest once you've done that," he ordered quietly.

Hyuuga smiled. "Yes, Aya-tan," he lilted.

Ayanami looked very nearly exasperated and Hyuuga made his slightly wobbly way to the door, grinning.

Konatsu was trying hard not to bite his nails. The screaming had stopped some time ago, but his imagination insisted on filling in things that might still be happening, each more alarming than the last. When Hyuuga finally appeared in the door of the common room, pale and shaky, Konatsu knocked over his mug springing to his feet. "Hyuuga-san!" He skidded to a halt in front of Hyuuga, checking himself, unsure whether it was safe to touch him.

Hyuuga smiled and ruffled his hair. "I'm fine Konatsu, don't worry. Aya-tan wouldn't let me go without making sure of that." He was leaning heavily against the doorway as he spoke, though, and Konatsu gave him a very dubious look.

"We heard..." he murmured, and trailed off, uncertain how to describe sitting here listening to the muffled screams of his superior officer, knowing they were wrung out of him by the commander they both followed.

Hyuuga winced. "Oh man. Okay, look." He pushed himself more or less upright and Konatsu finally couldn't stand it any longer and ducked under his arm to support him. Hyuuga smiled down at him. "Aya-tan wants me to rest. Help me back to my room, and I'll try to explain, okay?" He waved over his shoulder to Katsuragi, who nodded calmly back.

Konatsu steered them to Hyuuga's rooms, increasingly puzzled. The Major didn't really seem like he was injured—more like he was drunk. When Konatsu finally got them as far as Hyuuga's bed, the man rolled off his shoulder and flopped onto it, limp and relaxed.

"Oof! That was an intense one." He made mournful puppy-dog eyes at Konatsu from where he lay. "Help me off with the boots?"

Konatsu silently unbuckled the Major's boots and set them neatly by the bed, and went to fetch a glass of water too. When Hyuuga smiled and patted the mattress beside him, he came and sat, waiting.

"The thing is," Hyuuga said quietly, after drinking, "Aya-tan only lets himself do this because I like it." Long, mobile lips quirked up. "Once or twice I've even begged for it." Konatsu felt his eyes widening, and Hyuuga chuckled. "You've felt what it's like at the edge, Konatsu, at least with the sword. This is the same thing, to me."

Konatsu's eyes nearly crossed, thinking about it, but he could almost—almost—understand that. "But Ayanami-sama," he said, low. "He wasn't just... he wanted to..." Ayanami-sama had wanted to hurt something; it had been right there in the cold eyes looking down at him.

"Mmm." Hyuuga looked up at the ceiling. "You know the stories our families pass down, about Verloren, right?"

"That he lost his love and followed her soul to the mortal world, mad with grief?" Konatsu guessed. He'd kind of been thinking about that 'mad' part, today, he had to admit.

"Think about what the story really means, though," Hyuuga told him softly. "Before he ever left Heaven, he was blamed for Eve's death and his power was broken from him. That's not just a metaphor, for a being of spirit, is it? It's like he had his hands cut off."

Konatsu stilled, struck by that. He hadn't thought about what that meant before, no.

"And on top of that," Hyuuga went on, holding up a finger, "once he gets here and starts searching for her, his own hands get sent after him to tear his soul and body apart." Hyuuga looked over at him, eyes grave for once. "You've felt what it's like to have your soul divided, and that was by someone who cherishes you and was careful with you. Imagine having that done by force, by someone you hate, someone you're fighting with all your strength."

Konatsu slowly pressed a hand against his mouth, swallowing convulsively as his gorge rose. "Ayanami-sama... I mean, Verloren-sama..."

"Yeah." Hyuuga folded his hands over his stomach, looking at the ceiling again. "All of that is what's inside him. And once Raphael's seal broke, he remembered it."

"Hyuuga-san," Konatsu whispered, shocked. This, this was what his superior had put himself in the way of!

Hyuuga smiled, crooked. "He's the most dangerous thing in all the worlds. And I'm the one person he knows, right down to his soul, he doesn't have to hold back with. You understand?"

Konatsu was silent for a long moment, thinking. He did understand Hyuuga's passion for danger, for the edge of life and death; he even shared some of it. He could see why his superior would court Ayanami-sama's anger. And he thought he could understand why someone who held such anger in his soul needed a way to free it before it overflowed. But there was something else to it, he thought.

"You love him," he said, finally.

Hyuuga blinked at him and then laughed. "Don't we all?"

Konatsu smiled a little. He thought he also understood why Hyuuga had explained all this to him, and it wasn't only for Konatsu's sake. "Yes, sir. We do."

Hyuuga yawned and stretched against the bed, curling up into his disordered blankets. "Mm, think it's about time for me to get some sleep, like Aya-tan said, then."

Konatsu stood. "Sleep well, Shousa." He drew the blinds and turned off the lights, closing the door softly behind him.

And then he made his way back to Ayanami-sama's office.

"Ayanami-sama?" He tapped on the frame of the open door respectfully. Ayanami looked up from where he stood by his desk, and Konatsu didn't think it was his imagination that that still face turned stiller. He'd had a few years, now, to get used to Ayanami-sama's expressions, minimal as they were under his unbending control. This one was shuttered. Konatsu nodded to himself and came to stand before his commander, almost as close as Ayanami-sama had stood when he was toying with Hyuuga earlier, looking up at him. "I don't think you had a chance to hear our report, earlier, sir," he said quite calmly. "Shall I make it now?"

In comparison to the stillness, the faint smile that suddenly curved Ayanami-sama's lips, the light of pride and satisfaction in his eyes, was so clear that Konatsu couldn't help blushing. He ducked his head and glanced up shyly at his commander; he had hoped to offer what reassurance he could, but he hadn't expected to be shown this kind of approval. It settled his heart.

Ayanami-sama finally stepped around his desk and sat, hands folded on the expanse of polished wood. "Yes," he murmured, leaning back. "Tell me how it went."

"Yes, sir." Konatsu settled himself before the desk, hands clasped lightly behind him. "We reached the Gibraldan Duchy late yesterday..."

Ayanami-sama listened, and in the warmth of his regard Konatsu thought that maybe he truly did understand how Hyuuga could go to such lengths to serve this man and never fear or doubt that he would survive it and be well.

Perhaps Konatsu couldn't serve in quite the same way, but the next time he saw that fury he didn't think he'd be afraid either.

End

Bright-line

Aomine always seems to be searching for his boundaries. Kuroko decides it's time to give him one. D/s, Porn with Characterization, I-4

Aomine Daiki dropped a couple cans of soda on the low table and threw himself down on the scruffy couch in the apartment he shared with his dad, sprawling comfortably. He was still grinning. He hadn't stopped grinning since Tetsu, acting as their referee, had declared that his last shot counted and he'd won.

Kagami was getting good enough to push him, one-on-one, and Daiki loved it.

"That," he declared, stretching luxuriously, "was fantastic."

Kagami snorted into his drink. "You would think so, yeah."

"Don't give me that." Daiki prodded Kagami's knee with a foot and laughed when Kagami swatted at him and scooted further around the table. "You wouldn't keep coming up here if you didn't think so too." And, yeah, so Daiki had started it, coming down to Seirin to catch Kagami and Tetsu after practice and goad Kagami into matches. But it hadn't taken more than a month or two before Kagami had gotten Tetsu to lead him to Daiki's door and demanded (yet another) rematch. "Isn't it the best thing ever?" Daiki asked, letting his head fall back against the couch and baring his teeth at the ceiling. "Going all the way to the edge, and then pushing against it? Getting pushed back?"

He could almost hear Kagami rolling his eyes. "You and yourâ€”"

"Taiga."

Daiki blinked and lifted his head. Tetsu had been quiet all the way back here from the court down by the overpass, a thinking kind of quiet. He hadn't joined them yet, either, just leaned against the sliding door out to the tiny balcony and watched them. Now that he'd finally spoken (and since when did he call Kagami by name like that?), there was something serious in his voice. Kagami obviously thought so too; he was looking up at Tetsu, where he stood over them, with a silent question in his raised brows.

Tetsu didn't answer him, though. Just rested his hand on the wild mess of Kagami's hair for a moment as he stepped past him toward Daiki. "What is it?" Daiki asked those steady eyes resting on him.

"That's what's most important to you." It was a statement, not a question. "Having something to push against that can stop you."

Daiki's mouth crooked up at one corner. "Not like that's a secret. It's what you went looking for, wasn't it? When you left."

"One of the things," Tetsu agreed. "To make you see me again. To bring you back. But Kagami-kun has his own reasons for playing you; we're partners, but it isn't right to use his game for my own purposes. I think it's time I was more direct."

Daiki blinked, puzzled. Tetsu couldn't be thinking of playing him one-on-one; Tetsu's game had expanded, yes, he wasn't a pure supporting player any more. But still...

Abruptly, Tetsu was more present, locking Daiki's attention like a magnet. "Tetsu, what...?" he asked, startled. It was always a bit of a shock when Tetsu did that. And then Tetsu leaned over him, sliding a knee onto the couch and resting a hand on the back of it. His other hand caught Daiki's chin firmly, and Daiki couldn't do anything but stare. He knew Tetsu was far more forceful than his polite words and self-effacing habits led people to expect, but this... this was...

This was different.

The part of his mind that wasn't blank with startlement was expecting a kiss, but Tetsu just stayed where he was, leaning over Daiki, holding him, not letting his attention move anywhere else. And, Daiki thought slowly, letting him realize that. "Tetsu," he said again, husky with the sudden curl of heat low in his stomach. "What are you doing?" He slid his hands up to close on Tetsu's hips, not to steady Tetsu but to steady himself.

"Giving you what you want," Tetsu told him quietly, and now he leaned down and kissed Daiki. It was slow and wet and demanding, and Daiki wondered hazily where Tetsu had learned to kiss, because he sure as hell knew what he was doing. When he started to lean up into it, though, Tetsu's hand on his jaw tightened, holding him still. The heat in his groin tightened too, answering that grip. Tetsu finished kissing him, taking his time about it while Daiki sat, stunned.

Tetsu was...

"Be still, Aomine-kun," Tetsu said as he drew back, and his voice was quiet and even and so utterly sure things would be the way he said that Daiki nearly shuddered just to hear it. He let Tetsu lift his chin, fingers tightening on Tetsu's hips as his head was tipped all the way back against the couch cushions and held there.

"Fuck, Tetsu..." he gasped, feeling his spine pull taut with something he didn't have a name for, anticipation or resistance or maybe both.

"Something that will stop you," Tetsu said, soft and musing, not letting him go. "Someone that will stop you." The heat of his mouth on Daiki's bared throat, wet and slow, made Daiki jerk tauter, and oh god he was hard from this, from the things Tetsu was implying. Tetsu sucked sharply, just under the point of Daiki's jaw, and he groaned with the hot almost-pain. There would be a mark there. The realization made him dizzy, or maybe that was just the way he was panting for breath now.

Tetsu lifted his head and relaxed his grip on Daiki's chin, stroking the line of his jaw gently. Daiki just looked up at him, dazed. "When we're together like this," Tetsu said in that low, even, relentless voice, "you will only do what I allow you to do." He touched Daiki's cheek softly. "Yes or no?"

Daiki sat, still caged under the arch of Tetsu's body, head spinning. This was crazy. He was crazy, he didn't even know why this was making him so hot. Except... it was Tetsu, who he had never, ever been able to overwhelm or budge from his position on any subject, in any game. Tetsu always stood firm, always came back, never backed down, was the one thing Daiki could count on without doubts. Tetsu was the one immoveable thing he could lean against.

But... like this?

"I..." He had to clear his throat and try again. "Tetsu, this is... I'm not..."

Tetsu touched a finger to Daiki's lips, eyes steady and calm. "Yes or no? That's the only choice you have."

Daiki swallowed hard at the spike of heat those words put up his spine, but...

Tetsu smiled, small and private, just between them, and closed his hands around Daiki's face, resting their foreheads together. "I'll take care of you, Daiki. You know that."

The heat in him turned molten, spreading until Daiki wondered if he was going to come from that assurance alone. Because he did know it. Tetsu had always taken care of him, held him steady, brought him back.

And, fuck it, he wanted that, not just in the game but here too.

"Yes," he whispered, closing his eyes.

"Good," Tetsu murmured to him, sliding one hand down to his throat, thumb stroking the tender spot where he'd marked Daiki. It made Daiki shiver, hands flexing against Tetsu's hips. Tetsu's hands slid over his shoulders, down his arms, and closed on Daiki's wrists. "Not there," Tetsu murmured, pulling Daiki's hands away and guiding them up and back until they were pressed against the back of the couch, behind Daiki's head. Tetsu smiled down at him, and now there was a glint in his eyes. "Here."

Daiki's breath was coming short again with how it felt to be spread out under Tetsu like this, hands gripping the couch frame behind his head, legs spread. "Okay."

"Don't move until I tell you you may," Tetsu ordered, cool and level, and Daiki nearly moaned. He did moan when Tetsu reached down to unfasten his jeans and tug down his underwear just far enough to free his cock.

Tetsu stayed right where he was, kneeling over Daiki, not touching him anywhere except for his hand wrapped around Daiki's cock and fondling him slowly. Daiki's whole body pulled tighter and tighter, under him, until he was clinging to the frame of the couch, trembling with the need to rock up into Tetsu's hand. Nothing but Tetsu's word held him back, nothing but Tetsu's eyes on him, steady and unmoving, but that was enough. Daiki had said yes, given himself up to the one will that had always stood firmer than his. He did as Tetsu said.

It felt incredible.

Tetsu's fingers were gentle on him, gentle and slow, until Daiki was arched taut under him, gasping helplessly for breath, spread out and begging with every inch of his body. "Tetsu..."

"Good," Tetsu told him, warm and quiet. "That's good, Daiki. Now come for me." His hand wrapped tighter around Daiki's cock, pumping slow and sure, and Daiki made a hoarse sound as pleasure ripped through him, wrung out his whole body wild and hard, blinded him to everything but raw sensation and the sound of Tetsu's voice reassuring him.

As he came back down, slow and dazed, he felt Tetsu's hands sliding over his arms, gently loosening the grip of his hands and guiding them back down, stroking over his neck and shoulders and cradling the back of his head as Tetsu kissed him. Daiki finally pried his eyes back open and looked up at Tetsu, dazed. "Wow."

Tetsu laughed quietly. "You can move, now."

"Oh sure," Daiki murmured, completely wrung out. "Now that I don't think I can any more..."

Tetsu smiled and leaned down to kiss his forehead. "So, was it good?" he asked.

"Yeah." Daiki took a long breath, trying to fit what had just happened into his head in some kind of sensible way. It didn't work very well, but one thing was clear; Tetsu was unreasonably good at finding what Daiki needed. "I... thanks."

There was a definite glint of satisfaction in Tetsu's eyes. "My pleasure." One hand slipped down to knead the nape of Daiki's neck, slow and easy, and he raised his voice a little. "What did you think, Taiga?"

"Jesus."

Daiki froze at the question and the husky reply. He'd forgotten Kagami was there. Tetsu had locked his attention so tight, he'd forgotten. Tetsu's hand tightened on his nape, now, and he murmured, "Only what I allow, remember."

How did that make sense of Kagami still being here?!

Kagami's voice was a little shaky. "You know, you say you're not a sadist, but every now and then I really wonder. I also think you really like making me come without touching me. God." A huff of breath, and then he spoke again, voice softer. "Aomine. It's okay, really. We're... Tetsuya and I... we're like this, too."

"Taiga won't touch you unless I say," Tetsu told him quietly. "But he's part of this too, don't you think?"

Daiki could nearly hear the fizzle as his brain's ability to make sense of things gave out, like a fuse blowing. What was left was something hot, knowing that Tetsu had taken him like that in front of someone else. In front of Tetsu's other lover. In front of the other person he held this way. Something hot and wanting curled through him, thinking about that. Daiki wrapped his arms around Tetsu and buried his head against Tetsu's shoulder with a breathless sound.

"Good," Tetsu whispered to him, fingers stroking his hair gently. And a little louder, "Taiga, come here."

It was the same quiet, utterly inflexible command that Tetsu had pinned Daiki down with, and it put a little twist of heat through him to hear it addressed to someone else. Daiki took a good breath in and out, as the couch compressed beside him, and raised his head to look at Kagami. Who was very flushed and definitely looked like he'd done his clothes back up in a hurry. And who bent his head under Tetsu's hand when Tetsu reached over to run his fingers gently through Kagami's hair. Daiki had to swallow, watching that, and suddenly it made a lot more sense how just watching him and Tetsu could have gotten Kagami off.

"Daiki. Taiga. Do the two of you want to be together, in this?" Tetsu asked. "I can keep it separate, if not, but it does seem like a sensible extension of how you two are about the game."

Kagami snorted, mouth curled in obvious amusement as he looked up. "What, you mean both of us completely in your hands, both on the court and off?"

"Taiga," Tetsu chided, tugging gently on his hair. "I'm not Akashi-kun, and no one is in my control, on the court."

"I know." Kagami smiled as he caught Tetsu's hand and twined their fingers together. "But you hold us, don't you?"

There was something unspoken there, in the way they looked at each other, some reference to another conversation, and Daiki didn't even realize his arms had tightened around Tetsu until Tetsu looked down at him, eyes soft and clear, stroking his hair again. "I do hold you," he said, as if it were an answer to Daiki and not Kagami. "No matter which side we're on."

Maybe it was an answer for him after all, because hearing that settled the flare of jealousy. "I guess we can try it." Daiki shrugged. "Together." He slid a glance at Kagami, who nodded agreement and promptly held out his other hand to Daiki.

Daiki curled his lip and glanced aside. "What are you, a girl?" He let one hand drop to meet Kagami's though.

"At least I'm not an asshole," Kagami retorted, but his fingers were almost as gentle as Tetsu's, wrapping around Daiki's.

"The two of you," Tetsu sighed, but there was a tiny smile on his lips when Daiki looked up, and his touch was proprietary when he reached out to rest his hands on their shoulders. It made something in Daiki relax, just to feel that, and he gave up attempting to get his sensibleness back on line.

Tetsu's hand on him was its own kind of sense, and Daiki thought he liked that better.

End

Reach Out and Touch Yourself

After a tournament match, Aomine calls Kuroko to blow off some steam and Kuroko thinks this has some fascinating possibilities. D/s Phonesex, I-4

Daiki had thought it might be weird, the first time he played Kagami and Tetsu in a tournament match after the three of them started sleeping together. More precisely, after he'd started taking orders from Tetsu, in bed. Would it spill over? Would any of them hesitate? Would Tetsu look at him the way he did when he had Daiki down on the bed and begging?

It had taken a few turns around the arena in the cool spring air before Daiki had been able to get his mind back where it belonged, after starting to think that, but that just made his point.

And when Touou and Seirin met on the court, when he and Tetsu and Kagami all looked at each other under the bright overhead floodlights, Tetsu had given them an order. But that order was, "No holding back. We all play with everything we have."

Kagami and Daiki had bared their teeth at each other. "Obviously," Daiki purred, feeling exhilaration rise, light in his chest.

And they'd hammered at each other, on the court, clawing tooth and nail for the ball, even fiercer than they'd played when they'd met in the Cup last year. It was Touou who won this time, and Daiki still felt drunk on the wild glee of it, hours later, and who cared if it was just a preliminary match?

It was Tetsu who'd brought that feeling back to him, and maybe that was why he found his fingers wandering toward his phone as he sprawled on his bed that evening, tapping up Tetsu's number.

"Are you calling to gloat?" Tetsu asked, when he answered, but he sounded amused.

Daiki laughed. "Well, I could if you want."

He could almost hear Tetsu rolling his eyes.

"But no. I called..." he hesitated for a long moment, but finally let the words flow. "I called to thank you. I didn't, last year."

"I didn't expect you to," Tetsu said gently. "You'd just lost."

"I'd just woken up," Daiki corrected, staring up at the slightly warped plaster of his ceiling. "I knew I should thank you for that, even then. And now..." He rolled over with a bounce and leaned on his elbows, unable to be still. "Now it's so incredible! We won, and it feels so good again, Tetsu!"

"I knew there would be gloating," Tetsu teased, deadpan, but he relented when Daiki growled. "I'm glad for you. That was what I wanted for you, again."

"I have it." Daiki softened, stretching out on one side, phone against his ear. "So thank you. I'd forgotten how amazing it feels."

And maybe his voice had gotten a little husky, and maybe it wasn't a surprise when Tetsu's voice lowered too, and turned level and intent. "How does it feel, Aomine-kun?"

Just that tone was enough to put a shiver through him, these days, and Daiki swallowed to hear it. "Really good, Tetsu," he murmured. "Like I'm flying."

"Do you want more?"

Anticipation tightened his body, flicking his nerves with heat. "Yes, Tetsu," he said, husky, "please."

"Take off your clothes and set your phone on speaker," Tetsu ordered softly, "and tell me when you have."

It only took a few seconds to strip off the shirt and shorts he wore around the house, and Daiki lay back down, hypersensitive to the cool folds of the sheets and blankets under him, the brush of air over his skin. He switched his phone over to speaker and laid it by his head. "I have."

"Good. Then wrap your hand around your cock and stroke yourself. Slowly."

Daiki did as he was told, breath catching at the warmth of his own fingers wrapped around him. A shudder ran through him at the slow drag of his palm over his cock. "Tetsu..."

"Slowly, Daiki." The firm command, and the intimacy of his given name, pulled a soft whine out of him as heat shot up his spine in response.

"Yes, Tetsu," he whispered, closing his eyes and stroking the hard length of his cock slowly, teeth set in his lower lip.

"Good," Tetsu praised him gently, and Daiki nearly whimpered. Every now and then he remembered that this was crazy, that he had no actual idea why giving himself up to Tetsu felt so good, but the thought always drowned in the sweetness of Tetsu's approval, the heat of his control. "You're getting close, aren't you?" Tetsu asked. "I can hear it in how you breathe."

"Yes..." Daiki was panting for breath all right, taut with the effort of not rocking up into his own hand. He buried his other hand in the softness of his pillow, fingers working around it.

"Not yet." It wasn't even an order, more a statement of fact, and Daiki moaned. "Hold yourself, Daiki," Tetsu told him. "Just hold your cock and rub your thumb over your head. Slowly."

This time, Daiki definitely whimpered, shuddering with the licks of pleasure snapping through him, not quite enough to bring him off. "Tetsu, please..." He circled his thumb over the head of his cock, gasping at the hot ripple of sensation.

"Put two fingers of your other hand in your mouth." There was a smile in Tetsu's voice, the slow intent smile he got when one of his lovers started begging. "Suck on them like they were mine."

Daiki sucked two fingers down, light-headed with want, with anticipation, with the heat of being held back by Tetsu's voice alone. The sensation of his tongue around his own fingers braided together with the sensation of his fingers around his own cock until he was moaning softly.

"Very good," Tetsu told him voice turning gentle again, even tender. "I'm going to use your fingers to fuck you, Daiki. Push them deep into your ass."

Daiki moaned out loud, reaching under himself to do as Tetsu said. The stretch of his fingers made his hand tighten on his cock, and his hips bucked, sharp and involuntary. "Tetsu, please," he gasped, "please let me..."

"Don't move your other hand," Tetsu ordered, perfectly even, perfectly confident of being obeyed. "Nothing but what I allow you, Daiki. Just rub your thumb over your head and fuck yourself."

Little whines of pleasure and wanting worked their way out of Daiki's throat as he thrust his fingers into his ass and fondled the head of his cock, trembling with the way sensation built and built, hot and thrilled by Tetsu's relentless control.

"Now," Tetsu finally said, voice soft over the phone. "Now you can move your hand. Fuck yourself hard, Daiki."

Daiki groaned, finally freed to pump his cock hard and fast, to let his hips snap up and down between his hands, driving himself up and up until he fell over the edge and the entire bed shuddered with him as he came. "Tetsuya!"

It took him a minute, in the aftermath, to remember that his hands did actually belong to him, and retrieve them, breath catching as his fingers slid free.

"There." Tetsu's voice was warm. "Feel more relaxed now?"

Daiki laughed, rolling over on his side toward the phone. "Yeah. A lot." He felt downright limp, after that.

"Then sleep well, Daiki," Tetsuya told him softly. "We'll see you soon."

"You too." Daiki smiled as he turned off his phone and groped for a handful of kleenex to mop up with before burrowing under his covers.

Tetsu really did take good care of him, he thought sleepily, as he turned out the light.

Tetsuya switched his own phone off speaker and smiled. "I have very demanding lovers."

Naked and hard and spread out on the bed beside him, Taiga moaned. "God, Tetsuya, please..."

Tetsuya leaned back on one elbow, his other hand working slowly over his own cock, and watched Taiga, the way he'd watched him all through that phone call, watched how he'd flushed at the sounds Daiki made and the orders Tetsuya gave. Watched how his eyes turned dark as Tetsuya touched himself, and how he'd gotten breathless when Tetsuya shook his head, forbidding Taiga to do anything but watch. "Tell me what you want," Tetsuya said now, softly.

"You," Taiga said, husky. "Let me taste you, Tetsuya..."

"Mm, that does sound good." Tetsuya settled back against the pillows and held out a hand to Taiga. "Come here, Taiga."

Familiar satisfaction curled warm in his chest as Taiga came to him at once, sliding between Tetsuya's spread legs and leaning over him. His hands slid eagerly up Tetsuya's body, but he let himself be pressed down by a hand on the back of his head and wrapped his mouth around Tetsuya's cock softly. It felt good, very good, to feel Taiga settle under his hand as he wove his fingers through Taiga's hair. The slick, wet heat of Taiga's mouth slid over him, slow and sure, following every flex of his fingers, and Tetsuya let himself lie back, supported by Taiga's hands, let himself moan openly and listened to how Taiga's breath hitched each time.

When one of Taiga's hands slid down between his own legs, and the quick rhythm of Taiga's breath turned quicker, Tetsuya smiled and let himself go, thrusting up into Taiga's mouth until pleasure broke through him, fast and bright. The deep moan that answered him made his breath catch in a soft laugh. He stroked his hands through Taiga's hair as he lay, catching his breath, eyes closed. When Taiga gasped and shuddered between his legs, he made a contented sound, sliding his fingers down to rub over Taiga's nape gently, feeling his lover relax. Taiga finally turned his head to rest against Tetsuya's hip and Tetsuya murmured, "Come up here."

When they were settled again and Taiga was wrapped around him, quiet and smiling, Tetsuya asked, "Good?"

Taiga laughed, a soft huff of breath against his shoulder. "It's always good when you finally stop teasing me."

Tetsuya ran his fingers slowly through Taiga's hair. "Should I tease you less?" He already knew Taiga needed to be held and ruled more gently than Daiki.

"No," Taiga said softly. "I like it. I like it when you let yourself be a little silly and a little evil." He curled closer around Tetsuya. "I like how it isn't that different from how you hold me all the time."

"All the time," Tetsuya agreed, sure and quiet, pleased with the way Taiga relaxed. Some day Taiga would believe, all the way down, that Tetsuya would never deny him, would not open his hands and let go. Some day. For now, he just held his lover, his partner, closer, savoring the trust they already had.

It was enough.

End

Trust in the Palm of Your Hand

The story of how Kagami wound up willing to be submissive for Kuroko. D/s, Porn with Characterization, I-4

"So, I know how I got here," Aomine remarked thoughtfully, shifting a little against the bed. "But how did Tetsu talk you into this?"

Taiga grumbled against his bare shoulder. "You pick the weirdest times for long, meaningful talks."

Aomine flexed his arms a bit, where they were draped against the pillows over his head, emphasizing the soft cuffs around his wrists. "Got nothing better to do until Tetsu decides what he's going to do with me."

Tetsuya smiled a little and dropped a kiss on the soft skin of Aomine's inner arm, sending a faint shiver through him. "You're fine where you are."

"So, there you go." Aomine nudged Taiga with his hip. "What's the story?"

Taiga sighed and wrapped himself a little more snugly around Aomine's perfectly relaxed sprawl. "He didn't talk me into it. It... just kind of happened. I guess, really, it'd been happening pretty much since we met." After a moment's though, he smiled against Aomine's shoulder. "I think the first time I knew about it was after the Cup final last year. Tatsuya waited, after, to talk to me. And Tetsuya was waiting for me after that."

Taiga stopped short on the steps of the Metropolitan Gymnasium, startled. It was late. Almost everyone who'd come to watch the Winter Cup finals was gone, including the teams who'd played. But Kuroko was still sitting on the steps, bundled in his coat. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

Taiga opened his mouth and closed it again. When Kuroko sounded that matter-of-fact there was no getting anything else out of him. "Fine, come on, then." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the subway station. Kuroko fell in quietly beside him. He didn't say another word except 'excuse me' until they were on the train.

"Is it all right?" he asked, at last, low enough that the neighboring passengers three seats down wouldn't hear.

"It's... yeah, it's... okay." Taiga still wasn't quite sure what to make of the things Tatsuya had said, the apology for being jealous, the scolding for ever holding back, the assurance they were friends. The insistence that he was not, now, and could not be any kind of role model or guide to Taiga. Taiga touched the ring he still wore, a tiny weight on its chain, remembering what might have been the line of a matching chain under the neck of Tatsuya's sweater. Or might not.

"I see." That was all Kuroko said, but when he shifted with the curve of the tracks, his arm pressed against Taiga's and stayed there.

It helped. It settled Taiga, to know Kuroko was there, made the part of him that still felt raw and strained relax a little. It was... comforting.

And that was the first time that Taiga thought, all the way up in the front of his head, that he might be thinking of his partner as more than just his partner. Well. They were friends, of course. They did... friend things. Ate lunch together, studied together. Walked home together. Went for dinner together. Stayed out late and slept at each other's houses. Called old friends up for loans of clothing...

Okay, maybe not just friend things, now he thought about it.

By the time they got to their own station, Taiga was wondering whether he was really a complete idiot, and whether he could excuse himself by Kuroko not having noticed either. Or had he? Taiga could read Kuroko's game like book, by now, but other things were still harder to figure out. He studied Kuroko sidelong as they climbed the stairs to the street, until Kuroko glanced over and raised his brows questioningly, apparently perfectly at ease and not concerned in the least by having possibly acquired a boyfriend without noticing. Taiga shook his head vigorously to dislodge that thought, which just made Kuroko look amused.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." Taiga held out for almost a block before he finally gave in and added, "Hey. Do you... I mean, are we... Um."

Kuroko waited patiently.

Taiga raked a hand through his hair with an aggravated sound. Screw it. It wasn't like the two of them used words all that much in the first place. He stopped on the sidewalk, in the shadow between street lights and reached out to touch Kuroko's cheek. "Do you... ever think about this? For us?" he asked, low.

Kuroko's eyes widened a little, and for a long moment Taiga had a sinking feeling that he'd just embarrassed himself. But then Kuroko's lips turned up in a faint smile, and he lifted a hand to rest over Taiga's, turning his head just a little into the touch. "You've been thinking a lot, tonight."

Okay, so maybe Taiga had been the only completely oblivious one, fine, whatever. "I was just... thinking, yeah," he finished a bit lamely.

That tiny smile was laughing at him. "I like Kagami-kun, too."

Heat rushed to Taiga's face and he tugged his hand away again. "You just come out and say things like that!" he complained.

Kuroko held him for a second. "How else are people going to know, if you don't say?" He smiled a little wider when Taiga stilled, unable to argue with the justice of that one, and finally let him go.

They were quiet until they reached Taiga's turn-off, and then he hesitated, looking down at Kuroko. "So. Um."

Kuroko was laughing at him from behind that little smile again. "Come here, Kagami-kun." He reached up to thread his fingers into Taiga's hair, and Taiga, rather relieved, leaned down to a light kiss, just a brush of lips against each other. "Good night," Kuroko murmured.

"Yeah," Taiga answered, finding his voice just a bit husky. "See you tomorrow."

There was an extra bit of warmth wrapped around the raw places inside him, as he walked the rest of the way home.

It didn't take Taiga long to realize that that first kiss was part of a pattern. For someone whose strengths were strategy and timing, Kuroko was very aggressive. He was always the one who rested a hand on Taiga's shoulder while they were changing for practice; the one who was suddenly watching Taiga thoughtfully in the showers; the one who pulled Taiga down to increasingly thorough kisses when they met or parted by the park court at night. Even when he was completely wrapped up in Taiga's arms, head tipped back to meet his mouth, it was Kuroko who was setting their pace.

Eventually it got obvious enough for Taiga to say something, one night they'd stayed so late practicing that even the captain had given up and gone ahead, and told them to just turn off all the lights behind them. Kuroko came to him while Taiga was sitting on the bench to tie his shoes and stepped lightly between Taiga's knees, sliding his fingers into Taiga's hair to tip his head back for a kiss. The slow, soft force of it made Taiga's breath catch, and he looked up at Kuroko after, hands linked behind his legs. "You seem different, when we're like this."

Kuroko cocked his head, fingers still running through Taiga's hair. "I don't think it's that different," he said thoughtfully.

Taiga shook his head a little. "You're a lot more... well, I can't say more forceful." This being the same guy who had slugged Taiga one to get his head back in the game. "Just... you lead a lot more, like this. Well," honesty forced him to add, "a lot more openly anyway."

"Do you mind it?" Kuroko asked after a long, quiet moment, eyes steady on Taiga. Taiga blinked.

"I... don't exactly mind it, no. It was just kind of noticeable."

Kuroko sighed and leaned against him, arms sliding around Taiga's shoulders and resting there. "I think this is something I need," he said softly against Taiga's hair. "To lead, like you say."

Taiga was quiet himself for a moment, wondering. "Why?" he finally asked, resting his forehead against Kuroko's chest. "I mean... yeah, you're the one who leads already in a lot of ways. You're the one who kept me away from whatever the hell hole it was that Aomine fell down. You're the one who doesn't quit. But we've always been partners. Part of why I needed to be stronger was so you could rely on me, back."

"I've always relied on you," Kuroko said, very softly. "You're why I could stand on my own, and find my own game. But I'm still me; I play with people, not alone, it's what I do. That's why I need to know you trust me, even more like this than when we're on the court. I need to know you trust me completely."

Taiga went still at that. "Completely?" he echoed, cautiously. Kuroko laughed a little against his hair, fingers stroking through it again.

"Completely," he agreed. "You're my partner. You trust me. I trust you. That's how we play the way we do, and I love that, but this is more personal." There was still that touch of rueful amusement hovering in his voice. "For one thing, there aren't any other teammates or opponents; just us. So it's more intense. Can you trust me that much, Kagami-kun?" He pulled away from Taiga gently, until only his hands were still resting on Taiga's shoulders. "Or should we just stay partners?"

The jolt of protest in Taiga's gut answered part of that question for him right away, but he still hesitated. He knew Kuroko pretty well, at least he'd thought he did, but there were ways 'complete trust' could go in a personal relationship that he really wasn't into. "What do you want me to trust you to do?"

Kuroko's hands were back in his hair, gentle and soothing. "Nothing that would hurt you. Nothing you don't want. Just... to lead you."

Taiga looked up at him, leaning into Kuroko's hands without even thinking, but still hesitating. The last person he had trusted to lead him... He touched the chain around his neck and took a breath. "Let me take it slow," he said quietly, meeting Kuroko's eyes. "The last time I trusted someone like that... didn't end real well."

A spark of rare anger lit in Kuroko's eyes and he stepped close again, arms closing around Taiga's shoulders. "I'm not Himuro-san. We're partners. Whether you can do this or not, that won't change." His hands drew Taiga's head back and Kuroko kissed him again, deep and possessive. It made something hot flare down Taiga's veins, feeling the fierceness in Kuroko's mouth on his, in the arms wrapped around him, supporting him. When Kuroko finally drew back, he said, softly, "Go as slowly as you need."

The perfectly earnest words, set against that fierce kiss, made Taiga laugh, wrap his arms tight around Kuroko and laugh himself breathless. "Yeah," he said at last. "Yeah, let's try it."

The pleasure lighting up Kuroko's face, when Taiga looked up, made the warmth in Taiga's chest settle in deeper.

There was, Taiga learned, a particular way Kuroko touched him, when he wanted to have control. It was slower, more deliberate than their casual touches, a flex of fingers that let Taiga feel some of Kuroko's strength of grip. Never bruising, but very... definite. When Kuroko touched him like that, hand sliding down Taiga's neck or up his arm, he wanted Taiga to give way to him, to let himself be directed. Taiga found he didn't mind.

Actually, it was pretty damn hot.

Which was why he was currently stretched out naked across his bed with Kuroko kneeling between his legs, watching him intently while he fondled Taiga's cock until Taiga was panting for breath, hands clenched in the pillows over his head.

He was harder than he thought he'd ever been in his life.

It wasn't just Kuroko's hand on his cock. It also wasn't just that he was spread out wide for Kuroko to handle. It was the way Kuroko was watching him, so closely, so carefully. Every time some particular stroke of his fingers drove a gasp out of Taiga, he noticed and did it again. Every time Taiga's body started to pull taut, Kuroko's grip softened, easing him back down a little. Kuroko was paying attention to him the way Taiga had only ever felt in the middle of an especially intense game, when Kuroko's awareness of the team, and of Taiga in particular, started to seem like magic. The attention felt like being fondled inside. Kuroko ran his thumb up the underside of Taiga's cock, slow and firm, and Taiga bucked up, gasping.

"Kuroko!"

His partner smiled faintly. "Under the circumstances," he rubbed his thumb gently over Taiga's head, illustrative, "I think you can call me by my given name."

"I..." Taiga wasn't a formal kind of guy, not nearly as much as Kuroko, who was still calling him 'Kagami-kun' for god's sake. But he hadn't wanted to use Kuroko's name. It was too close to Tatsuya's name, and wouldn't that feel weird? Kuroko's other hand slid up his thigh to fondle his balls gently, and Taiga shuddered, hands clenching tighter in his pillow as the name was nearly pulled out of him. "Tetsuya!"

And it wasn't weird. He wasn't thinking of Himuro, of anything at all that wasn't his partner's eyes and hands on him, sure and intent and melting his brain out his ears. His partner, smiling and pleased and scraping the edge of his nail very delicately behind Taiga's balls. "Fuck, Tetsuya!" Taiga came undone all at once, bucking wildly against the bed while heat wrung him like a rag, over and over. Tetsuya's hands stroked him firmly through it, until Taiga dropped back against the twisted up sheets, panting and dazed.

Tetsuya leaned over him and kissed his forehead softly. "Taiga." The simple sound of his name sent another shudder through Taiga. It sounded intimate. It sounded like Tetsuya laying a claim on him.

"How the hell do you do that?" he asked, husky, finally unclenching one hand to reach up and run it through Tetsuya's soft, rumpled hair. "It's like you put a mark on me just by looking at me, when we're in bed. It almost feels like we're on the court, only..." he snorted with some amusement, waving a hand at their current naked, sweaty, sticky condition, "different."

Tetsuya settled on one elbow beside him, resting a hand on his chest. "It's similar, I suppose," he agreed quietly. "I... reach out to know who I'm playing with and against. To find you, especially. I suppose it's a mental trick a little like Izuki-senpai's, but for me it's all about who's paying attention to who, who's looking where, where each player's body says they're going to turn next. So I can move behind or around the thing they'll be looking at." He was silent for a long, thoughtful moment, stroking Taiga's chest slowly. "It's a mental trick, but... how you respond matters too. If know you trust me, if you reach back to me, it's easier to find you. Easier to keep holding you as the game moves. And you're easier to hold than anyone else. I like that." He leaned down and kissed Taiga, slow and deep and so rawly possessive Taiga's breath caught in his chest. "I want to hold you this way, too."

"Tetsuya..." Taiga reached up and wound his arms around Tetsuya, pulling him down and wrapping himself around his partner. Tetsuya let him, relaxed against him in a way that made Taiga have to swallow hard. It wasn't one-sided trust he was giving Tetsuya. He closed his eyes and took a slow breath. "I trust you," he said softly. "Completely. Whatever you want to do."

And if that thought made heat tingle along his nerves again... well, that was nobody's business but his. And Tetsuya's.

The pleased sound Tetsuya made put a little curl of anticipation down Taiga's spine, and he smiled up at the ceiling.

Sometimes, Taiga wondered exactly how he'd gotten himself into his current situation. And then, sometimes, he remembered it was Tetsuya and didn't actually have to wonder.

"So what is this idea you said you had?" he asked Tetsuya, wrapping his arms comfortably around him as Tetsuya slid down to straddle his lap on Taiga's tiny couch, forearms resting over Taiga's shoulders. "And, incidentally, that was a really evil thing to say to me right before practice."

Tetsuya's smile was tiny and secretive. "Was it?" The smile widened when Taiga growled, and he slid his fingers into Taiga's hair, pulling his head back so Tetsuya could nip delicately down his throat. Between quick, soft bites, he explained, "I want to tease you for a while, tonight."

Eyes half closed, breath hitching with each sharp little nip, Taiga managed, "Tease me how?" He shivered as Tetsuya's tongue stroked up the line of bites, wondering if there were going to be marks there later. Tetsuya had only marked him once before, but it had been very distracting having the whole team stare at his neck during practice. Distracting and arousing, to know he was walking around with the mark of Tetsuya's mouth on his skin, which might have been the point. That had been the day Tetsuya had jerked him off in the shower, eyes heavy and hot on him as they listened to the rest of the team's horseplay over drying off, just across the hall. Taiga shivered, remembering, and tipped his head back further.

Tetsuya drew back and ran his hands down Taiga's neck and over his chest, slow and firm. "I want you to watch me. And not do anything else, until I say you can."

Taiga's face turned rather hot. "Watch you?"

That tiny planning-something smile flickered over Tetsuya's face again. "Yes."

Tetsuya obviously had something in mind, which... actually did more to convince Taiga than anything else. Tetsuya was the strategist, after all. He laced his fingers with Tetsuya's. "Okay."

Tetsuya looked pleased and pushed up off the couch, tugging Taiga with him toward the bedroom. "Come here, then."

It was a little weird, Taiga thought as he followed along, how much this felt like their partnership on the court. On the face of it, the two were totally different. On the court, they both made their own choices, for all they watched each other and worked together. Here, he gave the choices to Tetsuya, let Tetsuya's word be the one that moved him or held him still. And yet... maybe Tetsuya was right, and it really all came down to trust, for the two of them. He trusted Tetsuya to play his own strengths, on the court, and to choose well for the team. Here, undressing at Tetsuya's soft prompting, lying back against the head of his bed as Tetsuya's hands urged him down, here he trusted Tetsuya to be with him all the way, and to choose well for the two of them. He trusted Tetsuya to hold him, even closer than he did on the court, and the feeling of being held like this was hot and secure. And that was something he wanted.

He watched as Tetsuya undressed and folded his clothes neatly on Taiga's desk. It was easy to overlook, on a high-powered sports team, but Tetsuya was solidly built. Compact, yes, but leanly muscled, and those muscles sharply defined. The flex of them as Tetsuya slid up onto the bed and knelt there, facing Taiga, held his gaze.

And then Tetsuya reached down and wrapped a hand around his own cock, and Taiga had to swallow. He hadn't really thought it would do much for him, just to watch, but... the slow, deliberate stroke of Tetsuya's fingers up and down his cock, coaxing himself harder, made him think about that hand on him.

Tetsuya smiled and closed his eyes. "Taiga," he said softly. He slid a thumb up to circle over his head, and his breath pulled in, and he tipped his head back a little. "Taiga..."

A husky sound caught in Taiga's own throat. Tetsuya sounded... he sounded like it was Taiga who was touching him. When Tetsuya moaned, faint and breathless, it sent something hot through Taiga's chest and down into his guts. He didn't think he could have looked away from Tetsuya's hand working over himself, from the way Tetsuya spread his knees wider against the bed, if he'd tried. Without thinking, he started to press one hand between his own legs.

"I didn't say you could move." The words caught Taiga like a hand on his wrist, and he swallowed and curled his fingers in the rumpled sheets under him. Tetsuya smiled, slow and clear, head still tipped back. "That's good."

Taiga was breathing faster himself, now, flushed from watching the way Tetsuya touched himself, listening to the sounds he made, all the while pinned down by Tetsuya's order to stay still. The stillness made the rest of it twice as hot.

There was something wicked at the corners of Tetsuya's smile, now, and he rocked forward to take Taiga's little bottle of lube from where it lived tucked against the blinds on the window ledge above his bed. Taiga was prepared for Tetsuya to squeeze some into his palm, for the sheen of it as Tetsuya stroked a hand down his cock. What shocked him, and sent a jolt of blinding heat through him, was seeing Tetsuya turn one shoulder to him, seeing him slide slick fingers down behind himself to press between his cheeks. "Tetsuya," he gasped, hoarse.

"Mmm. Taiga." Tetsuya's wrist flexed, pushing a finger into himself, and a flush climbed up his throat. He drew a slow breath, fingers sliding back and forth over his cock, and murmured, "Be still."

Taiga thought he could almost feel the grip of Tetsuya's will on him, like another hand, and he shivered under it. When Tetsuya pressed another finger into himself, a little moan tugged free from Taiga. "Tetsuya..."

"Shhh." Tetsuya's voice was gentle, even as his body pulled taut between his own hands. "Watch, Taiga. Think about it being your hands, here."

He pressed in another finger, slow and careful, and Taiga swallowed hard. His cock was standing hard and flushed against his stomach, now, and his clenched fingers were about to put holes through his sheets. "Tetsuya... please." Just saying it put another shiver through him. He'd never begged for anything in bed, never been pushed far enough that he wanted to. He hadn't expected how hot it would be to beg Tetsuya, and trust that Tetsuya would allow what he needed.

Tetsuya finally looked over at him, eyes bright and hot. "Yes. I think we're both ready." He drew his hands back slowly, a husky little sound catching his his throat as he slid his fingers free, and Taiga nearly moaned.

"God, yes Tetsuya, please..." He reached out as Tetsuya slid up the bed to him, and relief made him dizzy when Tetsuya let him, let Taiga gather him close and hold him tight. When Tetsuya's fingers wrapped around his cock, still slick, and slid down him, Taiga shuddered. When Tetsuya shifted up on his knees and pressed Taiga's cock against his ass, slowly sinking down onto him, Taiga couldn't do anything but cling to Tetsuya's hips and pant for breath. Leaning back against the headboard like this, with Tetsuya's weight over him, he couldn't push up much; how fast or slow that brain-melting tightness closed around him was up to Tetsuya.

He almost came just from realizing that.

Tetsuya was panting against his shoulder as he settled all the way down, and when he said Taiga's name the breathless note in his voice made Taiga close his eyes. He wanted so many things. He wanted to let go and just feel Tetsuya ride him. He wanted to wrap himself around Tetsuya and fuck him. He wanted to hear more breathless sounds like that, because he was inside Tetsuya. "Tetsuya," he managed, low, "some time... let me do this. Please."

Tetsuya leaned in, making Taiga gasp with the shift of muscles around him, and kissed him soft and open. "Some time, yes," he promised, and there was a glint in his eyes. "But not tonight."

Taiga moaned out loud with that combined promise and denial as Tetsuya rocked up and back down, and he gave himself up to whatever Tetsuya chose for them. "Yes."

"Mmm. Yes." Tetsuya smiled and did it again, slower, more deliberate, grinding down onto Taiga. Pleasure climbed up Taiga's spine, twist after twist of it as Tetsuya moved over him, hands braced on Taiga's shoulders. Half of it was the pure rush of sensation every time Tetsuya's body shifted, but half of it was something else completely. Something that wrung out parts of him that weren't his body, left him warm and shakingâ€”the knowledge that Tetsuya wanted him this much, this way.

When it all spilled over, he just let it, let Tetsuya have him however Tetsuya wanted him.

Tetsuya gasped as Taiga bucked up under him, one hand sliding down to wrap around his cock again. And just when the rush of heat was easing, his body tightened hard around Taiga and raked another wave of pleasure through him.

They leaned against each other for a while, after. "Thank you," Tetsuya finally said, straightening up a little to look down at Taiga, touching his cheek lightly. Taiga caught his hand and turned to press his mouth to Tetsuya's fingers.

"What for? Isn't this what I agreed to?" To let Tetsuya lead him when they were together like this.

Tetsuya smiled softly. "Yes." He traced Taiga's lips with his fingertips. "That's why I'm saying thank you."

Taiga looked aside and finally said, low, "It's what I want, too."

Tetsuya's kiss caught him by surprise, hot and sudden and ruthless enough to make him gasp for breath. "Then even more," Tetsuya murmured. "Thank you."

"Yeah. Okay," Taiga whispered back and they stayed where they were for a while longer, wrapped around each other quietly.

Most of life went on the way it always had. There were classes, which were still half incomprehensible but only half, which was an improvement; there was practice, which was satisfyingly grueling; there was shopping for groceries and cooking for himself, and increasingly cooking enough that he'd still get a full meal when his senpai begged or snitched bits of his dinner; there was fielding occasional visits from Aomine, when he got too fed up with his new captain's hovering watchfulness and skipped to visit Seirin, just to show he could.

But now there was also this. There was lying on Tetsuya's bed, draped over a pile of pillows that raised his hips high enough in the air to make him blush, feeling Tetsuya's hands kneading slowly down his back and over his ass. "Tetsuya..."

"Shh." Tetsuya's thumbs spread his cheeks open slow and firm, wide enough to make him gasp for lost breath at how exposed he felt. "It's all right."

Just the fact that Tetsuya was telling him, not asking, put a complex little shiver down his spine. It felt good, good to relax and trust that Tetsuya had things in hand; but there was always that adrenaline-edge of letting someone else say what would happen. Especially when what was happening was Tetsuya's fingers rubbing against him, slick with lube, making slow, hard circles against the muscles of his ass until he felt warm and relaxed back there.

"That's better," Tetsuya said softly, dropping a kiss at the small of his back. "I'll make sure it doesn't hurt, Taiga. That's why I wanted to go first, after all."

And there it was, the care that Tetsuya took that undid him every time. Taiga closed his eyes and took a slow breath as Tetsuya's fingers pressed into him. It felt goodâ€”completely unfamiliar, but every bit like Tetsuya touching him always felt, slow and intimate and sure. "Tetsuya..." He could hear how husky his own voice was.

"Be still," Tetsuya told him, gentle and firm. "Just feel." He slid his other hand down Taiga's back, kneading those muscles loose too as he worked his fingers in and out of Taiga's ass until he was panting, breath catching every time the press of Tetsuya's knuckles stretched him a little more open. That was what he felt most, right now, spread ass-up over Tetsuya's pillows with his muscles going laxâ€”so very open for Tetsuya. Open, and sure he'd be taken care of.

His own protective streak nagged at him, sometimes, to take care of Tetsuya instead. But... he did a lot of that. It was good to turn it around, to have someone else do it for him. And Tetsuya had been doing it from the first match they played in together. Tetsuya was good at it.

He trusted himself in Tetsuya's hands.

Those hands shifted on him, strong fingers twisting slowly inside him, and Taiga's thoughts unraveled again in the wash of sensation down his nerves. Tetsuya's fingertips rubbed slowly inside him, and he moaned with the surge of pleasure that answered.

"Mm. That sounds good," Tetsuya murmured to him, free hand stroking Taiga's ass.

"Tetsuya..." A shudder stroked down Taiga's spine as Tetsuya's fingers slid free.

"Be still, Taiga," Tetsuya said again, low and soothing. His hands closed on Taiga's hips, and there was a blunt pressure against Taiga's entrance that made him hot with anticipation.

"Yes, Tetsuya," he said, husky, lying still and lax in Tetsuya's hands, waiting. Tetsuya pushed harder against him and Taiga's hands closed on the sheets, tight with the breathless pressure of Tetsuya's cock pushing slowly, slowly into him. He gasped at the sudden easing and the slide of Tetsuya inside him, thick and hard, holding him stretched open. "God..."

Tetsuya's voice was breathless, too, as he leaned against Taiga, holding still. "Relax, Taiga; relax for me."

"I..." Taiga's breath shuddered in his chest. "I... yes..." He let the sheets go and let his breath go and nearly moaned with how it felt as his body eased more around the hardness of Tetsuya's cock. "Fuck..."

A soft, husky laugh answered him. "Yes. But slowly."

Taiga moaned openly as Tetsuya slid a little back and in again, a little further, and in again, slow and easy. The sensation stroked down his nerves, soft and intense. "Yes, Tetsuya," he whispered. Slow was just fine, yeah.

He'd always had a good opinion of Tetsuya's control, but it was getting better now as Tetsuya fucked him slow and sure. Tetsuya's hands worked gently over Taiga's back, easing him into the pleasure that was rising through him like a tide coming in. He trusted that control now, like he'd trusted it for almost a year, and let Tetsuya's hands guide him. He moaned against the sheets with the heat of Tetsuya's cock working in and out of him—did as Tetsuya said and just felt the heat curling tighter and tighter inside him. When Tetsuya's hand slid under his hip to wrap around his cock and stroke him firmly, he gasped and bucked, taken by surprise by the fresh twist of pleasure. "Tetsuya!"

Tetsuya's fingers tightened, and there was a smile in his voice. "Just feel, Taiga."

He couldn't do anything else, spread out like this with no leverage, and he shuddered as Tetsuya shifted over him, fucking him harder, hand working around him slow and demanding. It was so good, Tetsuya had made it so good for him, and he surrendered to Tetsuya's control, moaning as Tetsuya drove him higher and higher, and finally drove him right over the edge. Pleasure raked down his nerves and wrung him out around the hardness of Tetsuya's cock. The way Tetsuya gasped and pushed deeper sent an extra shudder through him.

When he finally came back down, muscles limp, throat dry from panting for breath, Tetsuya was leaning against him. His hands stroked over Taiga's back and shoulders gently, carefully, and a soft sound caught in Taiga's throat. This. This was why he gave himself to Tetsuya, gave Tetsuya controlâ€”so that he could feel this care. So he could do nothing but feel it, just like Tetsuya said.

He'd believed for a long time that his partner knew what he needed, after all.

So he lay quiet and let Tetsuya clean them up, let Tetsuya ease him down to the bed and wrapped his arms around Tetsuya, and bent his head under the gentle slide of Tetsuya's fingers through his hair.

He trusted Tetsuya's choices.

Taiga knew perfectly well why Aomine had started descending on Seirin after practice was officially over. He wasn't actually complaining, either; he loved the fast, wild matches they played, one-on-one with each other. That did not, of course, stop him from calling Aomine a needy bastard or asking whether Touou was boring him, just like it didn't stop Aomine from calling him a one-trick jumping idiot. That was just the kind of relationship they had.

Besides, it made Tetsuya look like he wanted to laugh at them.

Aomine waved casually over his shoulder as he turned toward the station, and Taiga stood with Tetsuya for a minute, watching him go. At least, Tetsuya watched him go, and Taiga watched Tetsuya, and the wistful look in his partner's eyes. "You guys okay, these days?" he finally asked, quietly.

Tetsuya turned back, beside him, and started on their way home. "Better than we have been in a long time."

That wasn't exactly a yes, but Taiga knew things were a little complicated between Tetsuya and his old partner.

"He's better, now he has people he has to work against," Tetsuya added, eyes distant under the slow shift of the streetlights as they walked. "You. Kise-kun. I always knew that was important to him, to have someone to push him. Sometimes I wonder..."

"What?" Taiga asked, as the silence drew out.

Tetsuya still hesitated. "I'll tell you later," he finally said.

"Sure," Taiga agreed easily, making a mental note to ask, if 'later' took too long. Sometimes, Tetsuya got a little too quiet about things that bugged him. "Oh, hey, food." The lights of the convenience store down from the park called to him, reminding him that he hadn't had his evening snack yet.

Tetsuya's eyes were laughing again as he followed along, and Taiga nodded to himself with satisfaction. Whatever Tetsuya was thinking about, whatever 'later' involved, it didn't look like it could be too serious.

'Later' arrived the next evening, just when Taiga was considering bringing it up again. They'd ended up at Tetsuya's house after practice, ears still ringing with the coach's orders to study for the year end exams. Taiga studied infuriatingly complex kanji for as long as he could stand before he gave up and stalked downstairs to get them both drinks just so he could move something besides his pencil. When he got back, Tetsuya smiled at him from where he sat on the edge of his bed, and held out his hands. "Leave those for a second and come here, Taiga."

Taiga set the two cans on the desk and came to him, curious. Tetsuya never called him by his given name unless they were both alone and intimate. He hadn't expected that so soon, tonight. Tetsuya caught his hands and tugged Taiga down until he was kneeling between Tetsuya's legs, close enough to wrap his arms around Tetsuya. Which, of course, he did. "What is it?"

"What I was thinking about, yesterday..." Tetsuya ran his fingers slowly through Taiga's hair, eyes searching his face. "I was wondering whether I should have held Aomine-kun tighter; whether that would have been what he needed." His hand drifted down to touch Taiga's cheek. "You make him feel normal again. I was wondering what I might be able to do for him, now."

"It's already you who did that." Taiga looked down, trying to put what he saw between them into words. "You're the one who knew what he needed, along with what you needed, and didn't stop until you got it." A corner of his mouth curled up. "Or after."

"And you were the one who believed I could," Tetsuya said softly, arms sliding around Taiga's shoulders. "It all connects."

True enough, but weren't they getting off topic? They'd started with Tetsuya saying he'd been thinking about holding Aomine tighter. Like he held Taiga now, Taiga supposed. And then he went very still, staring past Tetsuya's shoulder as those thoughts settled together.

All connected.

"You want to hold him, too," he said, low. "Like this. Hold him like this now."

Tetsuya gathered him closer. "Not if it will upset you," he said firmly. "Not if you don't want him to be with us like this."

With us. All connected. And Tetsuya had said Taiga was the one who made Aomine feel normal. Slowly, Taiga leaned against Tetsuya, wrapping himself tighter around him. "You really think it could work?" he asked against Tetsuya's shoulder. "Aomine's pretty possessive of you whenever he gets the chance." Of course, all the damn Miracle-types were possessive of Tetsuya, but Aomine was the one who still showed it, even after getting his ass kicked by Seirin.

Tetsuya's hand slid gently up his back and closed hard on his nape, holding him in a grip like steel. "Possessing me isn't a choice I would give him."

Taiga made a breathless sound, head bent against Tetsuya's shoulder, reminded of exactly what kind of relationship they were talking about and very hard from the reminder. "Yeah... okay." He'd been thinking something else, too, before Tetsuya turned his brain to mush... ah, right. "You think Aomine will want this that much?"

Tetsuya's hold gentled, stroking Taiga's nape until he shivered, head still bowed. "Aomine-kun always kept going until someone stopped him. Sometimes that person was Momoi-san, but the longer we worked as partners the more it was me. When he said we didn't agree on anything but basketball, it was because he always pushed until I told him to stop. And then he did, at least until he lost faith in the game and I couldn't make him stay serious. Or, at least, I didn't. I think I just didn't go as far as he needed me to, to make him."

Taiga thought about the kind of partner Tetsuya had been to him, right from the start. Demanding and fearless and very strict about Taiga's attitude toward their team and the game. He remembered Tetsuya clotheslining him repeatedly, with a perfectly immoveable look each time that said he refused to let his partner screw himself up. And he laughed against Tetsuya's neck. "I don't think that will be a problem any more."

He could feel how Tetsuya's lips were curved when Tetsuya dropped a kiss under his ear. "I don't think so either."

Taiga was quiet for a moment, thinking about Aomine, his most annoying and brilliant rival, his partner's ex-partner, the one whose edge made his fists itch sometimes. The one who always came back to him, as well as to Tetsuya. "Yeah," he finally said, quietly. "Yeah, let's try."

The way Tetsuya's arms tightened around him made him smile and hold Tetsuya closer.

"...and that got us here." Taiga paused and poked Aomine lightly in the ribs. "And why do you want to know so much, anyway?"

Aomine squirmed away until Tetsuya, laughing, rested more weight over him. "Hey, you were right here for it when Tetsu caught me, and you got to see the whole thing. Fair is fair."

Taiga thought about the things Tetsuya had said to him, about Aomine, and snorted. "I think Tetsuya caught you a long time before that. He just didn't make you know it until now."

Aomine stilled at that, eyes turning dark and heated as he looked up at Tetsuya. "Yeah, I guess he did."

Tetsuya stroked Aomine's hair back, smiling faintly. "I didn't realize myself until you," he told Taiga. "But... yes. Maybe so." He looked down at Aomine, fingers tracing down his jaw as Tetsuya tipped Aomine's head back and nipped lightly at his throat. "Maybe things would have been different, if I'd known sooner."

"Some things," Aomine said, soft and husky with the arch of his neck. "But some I think we'd still have needed Tai for."

Taiga found himself caught between sputtering over the nickname and turning red over Aomine, of all people, actually admitting that. And then he found himself just plain caught by the brightness in Tetsuya's eyes as he reached over to touch Taiga's cheek.

"Yes," Tetsuya agreed, eyes holding Taiga's. "We would."

Taiga gave way to that perfect assurance and turned his head into Tetsuya's hand, pressing his mouth to Tetsuya's palm. "Guess things turned out pretty well, then," he said, glancing down at Aomine'sâ€”at Daiki'sâ€”smirk, and watching how the edge of it softened.

"So there's that taken care of," Daiki murmured, slanting a sidelong look at Tetsuya, deliberately provoking. "Now. Thought of anything interesting to do with me, yet?"

Tetsuya had the gleam in his eye that always made Taiga look for something to hold on to. "Maybe I have." He stroked a hand up Daiki's arm to finger the cuffs, and slowly, deliberately, unsnapped them. Daiki's brows rose. "Taiga," Tetsuya said, quiet and firm, not looking away from Daiki, "hold Daiki down for me."

Taiga nearly moaned with a completely unexpected rush of heat, and he could see the way Daiki flushed, eyes widening. "Yes, Tetsuya." He could feel the tension in Daiki's arms as Taiga ran his hands up to grip his wrists and pin him down, the way Daiki never let himself be pinned on the court, the way Tetsuya demanded he submit to now. Daiki's eyes were already a little glazed.

"Kagami," Daiki breathed. "Tai..."

Taiga smiled wryly, a little breathless himself. "Only what Tetsuya allows, right?"

"Fuck," Daiki moaned as Tetsuya held his hips against the bed and leaned down to lap at his cock, light and teasing. "Yes."

Taiga leaned on Daiki's arms, holding him for Tetsuya to drive half out of his mind, and thought that he'd never been more right than he had been when he gave Tetsuya his trust. Tetsuya had seen how they fit together, how they could all have a place with each other, and Taiga didn't think this was a place he would outgrow. So maybe this was someplace he could stay.

When he leaned down and kissed Daiki, soft and questioning, Daiki kissed back.

End

A Good, Free, and Unconstrained Will

Kuroko wants a tangible marker of his committment to Kagami and Aomine, and of how they belong to him, and that's when other people start noticing what's going on. D/s, Romance, Porn, Drama, I-4

Cause

It was Daiki who mentioned it first, stroking his thumb along the line of Taiga's collarbone one afternoon when they were all tangled together in Tetsuya's bed, still a little sticky but catching their breaths again.

"You've stopped wearing that necklace all the time."

"Mm." Taiga shrugged a little, trying not to shove anyone off the bed, or scrape his shoulder blades against the wall, or show how the observation made him twitch. "I still have it. Just seemed like it was maybe time to take it off and put it away."

Tetsuya turned, where he was lying between them, unfairly graceful and not elbowing anyone in the stomach. Taiga concentrated on that, and not the question in Tetsuya's eyes. "Did something else happen between you and Himuro-san?" Tetsuya asked quietly.

Taiga sighed, giving in; he obviously wasn't getting out of this conversation, especially since he was the one up against the wall and couldn't make easy excuses to get up. "Nothing new," he said, low. "Just, the more I thought about it, the more I realized Tatsuya was right. He's not my nii-san any more."

"Yousen's Himuro Tatsuya?" Aomine asked, sliding a hand up to drape over Taiga's hip, casual in contrast to the way he was watching Taiga.

"I knew him back in the States. He was the one who got me into basketball." Taiga snorted at the way Daiki perked up. "The rings... it was a little kid's pledge, I guess; he didn't... he's not..." He sighed and turned his head into the curve of Tetsuya's shoulder, frustration bubbling up fresh. "I can understand if he doesn't want to claim something he doesn't feel like he can hold up his end of. But basketball wasn't the reason he was my big brother! It didn't have to be the only thing between us!"

Tetsuya's fingers threaded through his hair, holding him closer. "He took care of you." Taiga nodded silently. Yes, Tetsuya understood that.

"And now that you're a better player than he is," Daiki said slowly, thumb rubbing over Taiga's hip, "he doesn't think he can any more. What a moron," he added, thoughtful.

Taiga snorted a pained laugh against Tetsuya's shoulder. Yeah, Daiki, with his passion for people who didn't give up, wouldn't think much of Tatsuya's choices. "I'm not mad at him. Not really. It... doesn't change how he did take care of me, back then. It's just different now." If Tatsuya wouldn't see that he could still be Taiga's nii-san, no matter who won on the court, then it was time to put the ring away with the rest of his memories.

"Hmm." Tetsuya's fingers rubbed slowly over his bare nape. "Taiga. If you've taken off that necklace, would you let me replace it?" he said at last.

Taiga lifted his head and blinked down at Tetsuya. "Replace it?"

Tetsuya smiled and squirmed out from between them, sliding off the foot of the bed. "Here." He padded across the room and took a small box out of his desk drawer, sliding back up onto the bed as he opened it. He laid the open box between Taiga and Daiki and sat back on his heels, watching them.

There were two slim, dark necklaces in the box, just a little longer than choker length, much shorter than the chain Taiga had kept his ring on. He fished one out, curious, and ran it through his fingers; it was finished leather cord, soft under his fingertips. He glanced up at Tetsuya. "You want to..."

Wait.

This couldn't be a simple pledge among the three of them, like the rings. There were only two necklaces, not three. And Tetsuya had set them very precisely in between Taiga and Daiki. Taiga could feel his face turning hot at the implication, and his voice was a little more strangled when he corrected himself. "You want us to wear...?"

Tetsuya was watching them quietly, not demanding anything, but there was a glint in his eyes that made Taiga hot in a different way.

Daiki lifted the second necklace, running it through his fingers and glancing back and forth between them. "You want the two of us to wear these?" he asked, toying with the slim cord. "For you?" When Tetsuya nodded, Daiki gave Taiga a thoughtful look and smiled slowly. "I will if you will."

Taiga glared. That was playing dirty.

The corners of Tetsuya's mouth were curled up in a silent laugh as he leaned forward and laid a hand on each of their wrists. "Only if you want to," he said firmly. And then his fingers stroked the back of Taiga's hand gently. "But I would like very much to be able to replace that necklace, for you."

To replace the necklace. To replace what it meant. To take care of him. Taiga felt the curl of warmth through his chest that was becoming very familiar; it happened whenever Tetsuya made it clear how close he held them. And Tetsuya would never, ever give up his hold on someone just because they were stronger. Taiga had a year and more worth of proof of that.

"Yeah," he said, a little husky. "Yeah, I'd like that too."

"Good," Tetsuya said softly, and lifted the necklace out of his hand. "Lift your chin."

Taiga had to swallow against a sudden flutter of response low in his stomach as Tetsuya slid up the bed to straddle him, leaning in as he wrapped the slim cord around Taiga's neck. The tiny snick of the clasp fastening, more felt than heard, sent a spike of heat right down Taiga's spine. The delicate stroke of Tetsuya's fingers over the cool line of leather made him shudder. "Tetsuya..." God, was he ever going to get used to the way it made him feel, when Tetsuya took control?

Daiki laughed beside him, husky. "Hey, no getting ahead of yourself. It's my turn."

Taiga opened half closed eyes to see Daiki hand Tetsuya the other length of cord, smiling. He turned over, bending his head down against Taiga's shoulder, offering Tetsuya his bared nape, and Taiga wound an arm around him more or less by reflex. Daiki looked so vulnerable like this.

"Yes, it's your turn," Tetsuya agreed, voice gentle, and passed the soft leather carefully around Daiki's throat and closed the catch firmly. Taiga felt a little shiver run through Daiki. He thought Tetsuya did, too, because he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Daiki's nape, just over the clasp. Daiki practically purred, relaxing against Taiga, and Tetsuya leaned against them looking satisfied.

A thought nudged at Taiga, one that made his face heat a little once again, but he wasn't going to lie to himself. He knew perfectly well what they were doing, what it meant that Tetsuya had put this on him rather than let him do it himself. It wasn't like he objected, but that kind of meant he should ask Tetsuya about taking it off, too, right?

"I don't think we should wear these on the court," he said, touching the necklace. "They aren't very heavy; they could get broken too easily."

Tetsuya smiled, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "Of course. I want you to be sensible about them. Whatever you think is necessary."

Taiga turned into that touch, mouth tilted ruefully as he acknowledged how it relaxed him to have Tetsuya's agreement on that. His permission. Daiki stirred against his shoulder, looking up.

"I think I might be a little not-sensible." Daiki's eyes were dark, on Tetsuya, and Tetsuya's smile turned darker as he met them.

"That's fine too," he said softly, reaching out to hook a finger under the thin cord and pull it taut. "I'll put one of these back around your neck as many times as it takes."

The sound Daiki made, husky and wanting, sent Taiga's blood rushing to his cock. Tetsuya, still straddling him, laughed. "Come here, Daiki. Take care of Taiga for me." He slid to the side, nudging Taiga into the middle of the bed, and pulled Daiki down by his necklaceâ€”his collarâ€”until he was kneeling between Taiga's legs, bent over to nuzzle against Taiga's cock. "Yes. Like that."

Taiga slid his hands down Daiki's arms and over his shoulders, hands working against the sleek muscle there as Daiki licked his cock teasingly. "Daiki..." He loved the way Tetsuya drew them to each other, and it never stopped getting him hot, watching Daiki submit to Tetsuya, but Daiki could be a little disconcerting in bed. He teased even more than Tetsuya. Daiki glanced up at him, smirking a little but gently, and wound his arms around Taiga's hips, long fingers spreading against his back.

"Shut up and enjoy it, Tai," he murmured, and closed his mouth around Taiga, hot and slick and sure. Pleasure tightened on Taiga like a knot closing, and he gasped, trying not to rock up too hard while Daiki's tongue stroked over him enticingly.

And then Daiki gasped around him, abruptly flushed, hands tightening on Taiga's back. Taiga looked up and realized Tetsuya had settled behind Daiki, hands kneading over his raised ass. Tetsuya smiled just a little as he spread Daiki's cheeks wide and rubbed slow fingers over his entrance. Tetsuya had not, Taiga realized, flushing a bit himself, reached for the lube yet. He knew Daiki liked Tetsuya to be rougher with him than he ever was with Taiga, but was Tetsuya really...? Tetsuya pushed a finger in, and the way Daiki moaned around Taiga sent a shudder of pleasure right up his spine.

"Tetsu," Daiki gasped, head tipping back as he arched on his knees to push his ass up higher.

Tetsuya smiled slowly. "I told you to take care of Taiga," he reminded Daiki, working his finger in and out of Daiki's ass with short little thrusts. Taiga could watch it, from where he lay, and see how Daiki's eyes went darker at the quiet command in Tetsuya's voice.

"Yes, Tetsu," he murmured, and lowered his head again, wrapping his lips around Taiga's cock and lapping at him quick and firm, just like the movement of Tetsuya's hand. When Tetsuya pushed two dry fingers into him, Daiki shuddered and sucked on Taiga like he could coax Tetsuya's fingers deeper that way. It felt incredible, like Taiga was part of what Tetsuya was doing to their lover, and maybe that was why he whispered, "Tetsuya, please..."

Tetsuya looked up, holding Taiga's eyes as he twisted his fingers deep in Daiki's ass. "You think I should give him more?"

Taiga shuddered softly with the vibration of Daiki's moan. "Yes!"

Tetsuya laughed softly, drawing his fingers back and reaching for the bottle still tangled in Taiga's sheets. "Very well."

Taiga swallowed, throat dry as he watched. He knew how it felt, knew so well how it felt to have Tetsuya's hands wrapped around his hips, holding him while Tetsuya's cock pushed in slowly, slowly, opening him up. So he knew exactly why Daiki was making those husky sounds and why his hands were clutching at Taiga's back and why Daiki's mouth was desperate against him. He was pleading for both of them when he moaned, "Please, Tetsuya, harder..."

And when Tetsuya shifted, leaning over Daiki and driving in deep and hard, it was Taiga who came undone under the slide of Daiki's mouth all the way down his cock. He lost track of watching Tetsuya, but he could feel everything Tetsuya was doing in the pressure of Daiki's mouth on him as he clutched at Daiki's shoulders, gasping with the pleasure wringing him out. "Tetsuya...! God, Tetsuya, please!"

By the time he came back down, Daiki was sprawled across him, just as messy and breathless as he was. Tetsuya was arched taut behind him, buried deep inside Daiki, flushed and gasping softly. The sight wrung another moan out of him, and when he looked down Daiki's eyes were fixed on him. "I can see it," Daiki told him, husky. "I can see how he looks in how you look right now."

"Mmm." Tetsuya slowly opened his eyes again and released Daiki's hips to stroke down his back. "Yes. Just like Taiga could tell what I was doing and what you needed." He eased free of Daiki and pushed him gently down against Taiga, keeping a hand on Daiki's back as he settled beside them. "We're doing this together, and there's no competition between you. Remember that, all right?"

Daiki froze, staring at Tetsuya with wide eyes. "I..."

Tetsuya smiled and cupped his cheek, stroking a thumb over the sharp line of his cheekbone. "You think I wouldn't see it, when you were my partner for so long and you're my lover now? I want both of you," he told Daiki softly, touching the cord of leather around his neck. "Never doubt that."

Slowly, Daiki nodded, relaxing against Taiga, eyes lowered. "Yes, Tetsu," he said, more subdued by Tetsuya's quiet words than Taiga had ever seen him, even when he was tied up. Taiga wrapped his arms around Daiki, holding him close. He knew how that felt, too. It was, he thought, exactly why both of them were willing to walk around wearing the delicate collars Tetsuya had clasped around their necks, and he smiled against Daiki's hair.

They were all together in this, all right.

Effect

Izuki Shun had always watched the people around him; it was one of the habits that made him a good point guard. And his teammates were always worth watching, for the amusement value if nothing else. So he'd noticed a few months ago that Kagami had stopped wearing the ring on a chain around his neck that used to always be there, even during practice. And he'd noticed about a week ago that Kagami had started wearing a simple leather necklace, the kind that you could find at any accessory stall in any shopping district. That, though, he carefully removed and tucked away whenever he changed for practice or a match.

Which was, perhaps, why it took so long for anyone else to notice. Shun had laid a tiny bet with himself on who it would be, and he won it the evening Koganei looked up from tying his shoes and suddenly grinned.

"Hey, Kagami." Koganei's tone was as good as a knowing nudge in the ribs. "You've got a new necklace these days. Is there someone who wants you to wear her present, instead of your old girlfriend's?"

Kagami promptly turned red and sputtered. "It's not like that!" Shun had expected that kind of response, because Kagami really was awfully innocent in some ways. The surprising part was the way Kagami hesitated as he fastened the necklace, looking aside, and added, "Not exactly."

Of course, that was as good as waving a feather in front of a cat. "Not exactly?" Koganei pressed, sidling up to throw an arm around Kagami's shoulders despite the height difference. "So there really is a girl, isn't there? Come on, you can tell senpai all about it..."

Kagami was sputtering again, and Shun was preparing to take pity on the poor guy and intervene when Kuroko beat him to it.

"Koganei-senpai," he said, sharper than Shun had ever heard him speak to any of his seniors, "that's private. You shouldn't tease Kagami-kun about it."

The entire club fell quiet for a moment, staring. Kuroko tugged down his cuffs and stood, looking back levelly. It wasn't quite the way Shun had seen him stare down opponents, but it was close. He didn't blame Koganei for stepping away from Kagami, hands raised.

"Just kidding around."

And quick as that, Kuroko was back to his usual self, calm and at ease, giving Koganei a very proper little bow. "Of course, senpai. Excuse us, please." He slung his bag over his shoulder and led the way out, and Kagami followed him.

There was, Shun noted, predictable relief at being rescued on Kagami's face, but there was also something soft along with it. As unusually soft as Kuroko had just been sharp. He considered that thoughtfully, as he pulled on his jacket.

Maybe this was something he'd keep a particular eye on.

Junpei had separated from the rest of the team in the wake of the first winter preliminaries, and was walking home beside Riko and Teppei, when Riko finally spoke up.

"So. Did you see Aomine when we passed Touou, on our way out?"

Junpei winced. He'd foolishly hoped she hadn't noticed. "It's none of our business," he said firmly.

"What isn't?" Teppei blinked at them.

"Teppei!" Riko huffed, obviously exasperated. "Didn't you notice that Aomine was wearing a necklace just like the one Kagami wears these days?"

"Well sure," Teppei said calmly. "I'm glad those two seem to be getting along so well."

Junpei buried his face in his hands, groaning. As if Riko wasn't bad enough! "It is none of our business," he repeated hopelessly.

"I wonder if Kuroko set the two of them up," Riko speculated with gleaming eyes, completely ignoring him. "Maybe that's why he was so defensive when Koganei was teasing Kagami."

Teppei made a thoughtful sound. "I have to admit, I always expected all three of them to be together, but maybe you're right. At any rate, he doesn't seem to feel left out, and that's good."

Junpei wondered wistfully if putting his hands over his ears would drown them out.

"Oooo, if they are all together, maybe that's what it is!" Riko clasped her hands in front of her mouth, eyes dancing. "Maybe those are actually Kuroko's necklaces they're wearing."

"Kantoku!" Junpei finally yelled. "Quit talking about our players' love lives!"

From the way she broke down giggling, he figured she'd just been trying to get a rise out of him anyway, and sighed. And swatted at Teppei's hand when it landed on his head and rumpled his hair 'comfortingly'.

"Oh, don't worry." Riko bumped her shoulder against his arm and grinned up at him. "It's not like I'd say any of this in front of them."

"Although, you know, I wouldn't be surprised if Kuroko had it in him," Teppei started, and Junpei cut him off sternly.

"Both of you shut up about this, or so help me I'm going home alone tonight." Which, since his was the only house at which the three of them could reasonably spend an evening together out of reach of paternal death-threats or grand-parental ears, was a significant enough threat to make them stop.

That didn't stop him from remembering the conversation, every time he saw Kuroko smile while Kagami fastened that necklace on after practice, but he'd already become resigned to the fact that being a boyfriend to Riko and Teppei did bad things to a man's brain. He figured it was worth it.

Takao Kazunari had never really been surprised by how often Shintarou wanted to visit his ex-teammates in Tokyo. For all his quirks, Shin-chan was pretty much born to be a team player, and Kazunari actually had no trouble believing he'd been the voice of reason on the Teikou team.

Considering who else had been on that team, after all.

So, even before Kagami and Aomine started sneaking out to see each other, Kazunari had been driving his partner back and forth across central Tokyo at least once a month to give Kise or Kagami or Kuroko very backhanded advice, or to trade insults with Aomine. It was unquestionably good muscular and cardiovascular training, and some days, like today, it was good entertainment, too.

"The two of you have no discipline whatsoever," Shintarou sniffed, adjusting his glasses as he gave Aomine and Kagami unimpressed looks. Admittedly, they both looked pretty scruffy at the moment, wringing wet and gasping for breath.

"Oh, come on Shin-chan," Kazunari called, bouncing the ball easily and keeping a sharp eye on Kuroko. "How long were they been playing for before we got there?"

"That," Shintarou said in arctic tones, "is exactly my point. Both of them should have the strength to go for longer, if they ever bothered to pace themselves properly." He swept back his hair, sweat-soaked for all his breathing was still disgustingly easy, and gave the two other aces a thoroughly disgruntled look.

Kazunari was hard-pressed not to laugh at the way both Kagami and Aomine seemed torn between glaring at each other and glaring at Shintarou. "Give 'em a break, Shin-chan. We can go bug Kise, if you want more of a work-out." That suggestion focused both glares firmly on him, and he smirked back at them. He was pretty sure they'd be pacing themselves more carefully, after having to hear something like that from him; never let it be said he didn't look after his partner's interests.

"Midorima-kun is right, that's enough for today," Kuroko put in, and Kazunari blinked, finding his hand abruptly empty of the ball. Kuroko was getting sneakier every month, he swore. But that little coup seemed to be enough to settle Kuroko's own partners, and they all trouped off the court together. Kazunari stretched his calves thoughtfully as they fished out water and towels, wondering if he'd really make it to Kaijou and back without his legs giving out. Which wasn't a problem in and of itself, but Shin-chan would lecture him just as mercilessly as he did his ex-teammates. From the look in his partner's eye, though, Kazunari really didn't think Shintarou would be satisfied with this game alone, today. He'd been restless all morning, and looking forward to a hard game.

Sure enough, Shintarou was tetchy enough that even watching Kagami fasten a plain and unassuming necklace on was enough to rouse his ire. "You've always been careless, Aomine," he snapped. "I notice you didn't even bother taking your frivolous decorations off while you played."

Huh. Now Shin-chan mentioned it, Aomine did have on a necklace a lot like Kagami's, a plain leather cord number. In fact... it looked almost exactly alike. More to defuse Shintarou's temper than anything else, Kazunari grinned and asked, "What, are you two married now, as well as rivals?"

He blinked when they both turned red and sputtered.

"It's not..."

"Definitely not..."

"I mean, not like that..."

"Seriously, well okay, not exactly like that, but seriously..."

Kazunari's eyes widened with delight at every jumbled denial. "You are, oh that's so beautiful." They nearly gargled at him, at that, reduced to non-verbal protests, and he laughed.

He'd never claimed that he didn't have an evil sense of humor.

Before he could wind them up any more, though, Kuroko straightened up from zipping his bag and said firmly, "Enough."

The command in his tone was a little startling, but Kazunari had seen Kuroko play hot, and he'd seen Kuroko angry once or twice. He knew Kuroko had a cutting edge under that smooth expression. What was a lot more startling was the way both Kagami and Aomine fell quiet at that one word.

At that order.

It all fell together at once, the matching leather necklaces, the way Aomine kept his on and Kagami had flushed just a little deeper putting his back on, the way that one word had pulled them up short. Kazunari pursed his lips and whistled quietly. "Well, well. Congratulations, then," he told Kuroko, perfectly in earnest. He was impressed.

When Kuroko just dipped his head, accepting it as his due, Kazunari had to grin.

"In that case, we'll just be off and let you three get on with things," he said cheerily, slinging an arm, or at least a hand, around Shin-chan's shoulder and tugging him toward the corner of the court where he'd left the bike and cart.

Shintarou frowned down at him in obvious puzzlement. "Takao, what--?"

"Shh." Kazunari laughed under his breath. "Tell you later." Aomine and Kagami were both red in the face. "Not that I'm actually all that surprised," he added as he unlocked the bike and wheeled it around. "I mean, it's always the ones you wouldn't expect, right?" He paused, struck by an enticing thought as Shintarou gave him an exasperated look. "Hm. Speaking of which, what would you say to going straight home instead of visiting Kise?"

Shintarou looked down his nose. "And why would I agree to that, when Aomine and Kagami were barely a challenge today?"

Kazunari leaned against the seat of the bike, crossing his legs, and fished a coin out of his pocket. "I was thinking there might be a form of exercise you'd like more, today." He tossed the coin lightly from hand to hand, smiling up at Shintarou. "What do you say, Shin-chan? Heads, you let me suck your fingers while I fuck you. Tails, I let you fuck me wherever and however you please." The corners of his mouth curled a little higher as Shin-chan's eyes widened behind his glasses. "How's your fortune looking today?" he purred, and flipped the coin into the air for Shin-chan to call. Past the flash of metal, his partner's eyes gleamed.

It was always the ones you wouldn't expect.

Himuro Tatsuya was not expecting to hear his name called. He'd put his back against a nice, sturdy brick wall and was just keeping out of the way as the howling packs of shoppers swept past. But when someone called, "Tatsuya!", he recognized the voice and looked up with a smile. A tilted smile, because he expected Taiga to give him a certain amount of hell for his current errand, but a smile.

"Hey."

Taiga forged awkwardly through the crush, obviously still not used to how close people pressed. His clothes fit into the crowd down here well enough; the sneakers weren't exactly stylish, but when you were built like Taiga a pair of jeans and a shirt thrown on over a tee were all you needed to make people look around for the photo-shoot. No one did, though, because Taiga was so completely unconscious and uncaring of how he looked in the middle of crowds bent on buying things to look prettier. He always had been, and Tatsuya had shaken his head over the fact for years. The only hint of fashion on Taiga, as far as he could see, was the necklace Taiga wore, no longer the chain and ring Tatsuya had gotten him but a leather cord. Even that probably wasn't on purpose. He wondered, a little wryly, whether Taiga had just gotten that used to wearing something around his neck.

Taiga finally fetched up against the wall, a little breathless. "You didn't say you'd be in town this weekend."

"I didn't know I was going to be until extremely early this morning," Tatsuya said, dry. "Atsushi wanted to come buy some new kind of candy that's being sold starting today." He waved at one of the mammoth lines down the street, where one very tall figure could be seen looming over the competition. "First time I've ever seen him get up early." He cocked his head up at Taiga. "So what are you in for?" He'd never known Taiga to willingly go out shopping for anything but groceries.

"New shoes."

Tatsuya started at that quiet voice right at his elbow, and eyed Kuroko, who had appeared there. He was starting to suspect that Teikou's old 'invisible man' got a kick out of doing that to people.

"At least this time I know they've actually got my size," Taiga added, unsurprised. Maybe he'd gotten used to the jack-in-the-box act. "This time I ordered them ahead of time."

Tatsuya could sympathize, especially after the coach put him in charge of ordering Atsushi's supplies. No one stocked shoes that size. He'd finally resorted to online stores with direct shipping. Some of the other team members made jokes about baby-sitting, but Tatsuya didn't actually mind. God knew Atsushi was pretty much at sea anywhere except a basketball court. Someone had to look after him.

Taiga had never needed looking after that way. Not really. He'd always had a solid core in him that held him steady. If it seemed weird for someone to be anchored by wild enthusiasm for life, well it had also been fun to be around. At least, it had been fun until he'd realized that Taiga didn't need him. That Taiga had grown so much that he'd started trying to protect Tatsuya. That... that had been more than he could take.

That wasn't something they could really talk about, though. It wasn't something a person like Taiga would ever understand. So instead he laughed. "First time I've even seen you laying plans to get any kind of clothing, even for the game." He added, teasing, "Though maybe you're getting stylish in your old age." He lifted a finger to flick at the cord necklace that had replaced his chain. Taiga rocked back from the gesture, almost a flinch, and a moment of remorse nipped at Tatsuya. There was no need to be cruel, just because Taiga had grown beyond him.

That wasn't what stopped the gesture, though.

Tatsuya's brows lifted as he looked down at Kuroko, who was abruptly standing between him and Taiga with an iron grip on Tatsuya's wrist. "You have no right to touch that," Kuroko said softly, every polite ending sharpened to a cutting edge.

"I think that's Taiga's to say, don't you?" Tatsuya wasn't going to stand for Kuroko trying to protect Taiga when Tatsuya couldn't. It was ridiculous to imagine.

Kuroko's gaze didn't so much as flicker, and his voice was as hard as his grip. "This is mine to say. And you will keep your hands off it." He nearly threw Tatsuya's hand aside.

Tatsuya snorted. "Taiga, are you seriously going to tell me..." he trailed off, staring at Taiga. Taiga, who was watching Kuroko with suddenly wide eyes, whose hand lifted to touch that necklace lightly. Taiga who glanced briefly at him and then aside, color sneaking over his cheekbones.

"This is Tetsuya's to say," Taiga admitted.

For a long breath, Tatsuya's brain flatly refused to put the pieces together, but they fit so very clearly that he couldn't hold it off for long. That wasn't just a necklace.

And if this was something Taiga wanted, then maybe... maybe they could have...

"Muro-chin?" Atsushi loomed out of the crowd, brightly colored candy bag already open in his hand. "And Kuro-chin."

Tatsuya took a slow breath. No. Maybe if he'd known sooner, but it certainly wouldn't work now. He had Atsushi to take care of, and judging by the narrow look Kuroko was still giving him he didn't think Kuroko was the sharing type. "Well, good luck with those shoes, then," he said, as easily as if nothing had happened. "I'd better get Atsushi back up to Akita before anyone misses us."

"Probably wise, yes," Kuroko murmured, and Tatsuya's mouth quirked. Yeah, that was one possessive little bastard.

"We'll see you at semi-finals, then," Taiga added quietly, watching Tatsuya with shadowed eyes.

"Quit looking like that, Taiga," Tatsuya told him easily. "It'll be fun." Probably more fun for Taiga than for him, but he was used to that. "Come on Atsushi, be thinking about what kind of station bento you want to get; if we miss another train because you couldn't decide, I'm taking the cost of changing tickets out of your wallet." He waved goodbye and led his teammate back out into the crush.

He was used to wanting things he couldn't have. It was always best to just set it aside.

Result

Daiki pretty much took Tai's apartment as an extra home, these days, so he didn't bother knocking before breezing in the unlocked door. "Hey, guys, up for a..." he trailed off, startled. Tetsu and Tai were on the couch; well, Tetsu was a least. Tai was on his knees, head buried in Tetsu's lap, holding on to Tetsu like the last branch in a flood. Tetsu had his fingers buried in Tai's hair, stroking it slowly, while his other arm stayed wrapped around Tai's shoulders. He looked up at Daiki, eyes serious but not dark, and beckoned Daiki closer with a tilt of his head.

Daiki came and knelt behind Tai, pressing close against his back, and wound his arms around Tai. "Hey," he said again, quieter. Tai made an acknowledging sound, but didn't move, and Daiki looked up at Tetsu, questioning. "What happened?"

True anger sparked in Tetsu's eyes, though his hands stayed gentle, stroking Tai's hair. "We ran into Himuro-san today. He took notice of Taiga's collar."

"He let go so easy; he lets everything go so easy," Tai finally said, voice rough and muffled against Tetsu's lap.

Daiki thought about that. "Well," he said at last, "it's a good thing you're with Tetsu, then."

Tai finally lifted his head to blink at Daiki over his shoulder. "...huh?"

"That went by a little fast." Tetsu was smiling, though, and he set his other hand in Daiki's hair.

"Well, think about it," Daiki pointed out, leaning into Tetsu's fingers with pleasure. "Tetsu doesn't let anything go. I mean, I'm here aren't I?"

Tai blinked a few more times and finally looked up at Tetsu. "Not anything?" His voice was still husky, but it was starting to sound like Tai again.

There was fire behind Tetsu's calm smile, the fire that Daiki had always seen in him, always loved in him. "Not anything," he confirmed with absolute certainty. "Not Daiki. Not you." He trailed his fingers down Tai's neck to rest on the leather cord of his collar. "Not ever."

Tai took a slow, shaky breath and let it out. "Okay."

Daiki could feel Tai relaxing, between them, and pulled him closer with a little smile buried in Tai's wild red hair. That was better. It just didn't feel right when Tai freaked out; he was the steady one.

Tetsu slid his fingers through their hair, slow and gentle. "I don't let go of what's mine," he said softly, and Daiki made a satisfied sound against Tai's shoulder. That was the way it should be. He brushed his lips over the cord of Tai's collar and purred at the feel of Tai relaxing some more.

They were together in this, and that was enough.

End

Heads or Tails

Comes in the middle of "A Good, Free, and Unconstrained Will". Takao won the coin toss. Midorima doesn't actually mind that. D/s, Porn, Fluff, I-4

It never stopped amazing Kazunari how easily Shintarou relaxed for him, in bed. All right, so he colored up adorably when Kazunari started unbuttoning his shirt, and tended to fall into flustered silence when he noticed Kazunari watching him slide his pants off and fold them neatly. But all the upright reserve that saw Shintarou through the day and let him ignore as unworthy of notice the strange looks his lucky items invariably drew eased out of him as he lay back against the sheets. As soon as Kazunari's hands touched his skin, Shintarou seemed to let all that go, and by the time Kazunari's fingers started working him open he was ready to spread his legs with perfect, unconscious wantonness and rock down onto Kazunari's hand. Kazunari loved seeing him like this.

Of course, Shintarou did tend to keep an arm thrown over his face, but that was all right. For now.

"Ready?" he murmured, curling his fingers a little to rub Shintarou inside until he gasped, hips bucking up. "Mm, looks like it."

"Yes," Shintarou agreed, husky, wetting lips that were already bitten red. The sight made heat tighten through Kazunari, made his own voice rougher.

"Good." He slid his fingers slowly free, savoring the tiny sound Shintarou made, and squeezed out a little more lube to slick over his cock. Shintarou lay waiting for him, breathing deep and quick, but still not looking. And that was why Kazunari let him keep that arm over his face for a while; he was, after all, a point guard, and no one should be surprised if he liked to be in control. The way Shintarou's breath caught when Kazunari's hands slid down his thighs to spread him wider, the open way he moaned when Kazunari's cock pushed into him, the way he relaxed into Kazunari's hands so easily, Kazunari loved all of those.

But after a few slow, rocking strokes to settle himself it was time for more.

"Shintarou," he said softly, "give me your hand."

No matter how many times they did this, that still made Shintarou gasp and tense a little. "Kazunari..."

"Shhh." He reached up to rest a hand against Shintarou's chest, steady and reassuring. "Give me your hand," he repeated lower.

Slowly, Shintarou let the arm across his face fall and held out his bare fingers, unwrapped earlier at the same time he'd set aside his glasses.

Kazunari cradled Shintarou's hand in both of his, holding those wide, uncertain eyes as he lifted it. The sudden flush in Shintarou's face when Kazunari wrapped his lips around one finger and sucked, the soft moan Shintarou tried to catch back, nearly made him moan himself. Well, no, he lied; it was the things he knew were behind that flush and that moan. It was the fact that Shintarou guarded his hands so jealously and yet would trust them to Kazunari, even when uncertainty made the fingers in Kazunari's hold tremble. It was the fact that the way Shintarou responded to having those sensitive fingers sucked was one of the few things that truly made him blush, in bed, but he would let Kazunari do it anyway. That was what made him so hard as he drove deeper into Shintarou, fucking him steadily while he played his tongue over Shintarou's fingers just as slow and wet and dirty as possible. He fucked the tight heat of his partner's ass hard and sure, and slid his lips and tongue over Shintarou's shaking fingers until Shintarou was gasping, breath cut into quick little jerks. Until he was making a soft sound, almost a whimper, at the end of every thrust. Until he closed his eyes and whispered, "Kazunari," with an edge of pleading in that low, controlled voice.

"Mmm." Kazunari smiled, licking one last time down Shintarou's fingers before he guided Shintarou's hand down to wrap those wet fingers around his own cock. "Yeah. Show me. Let me see you, Shin-chan." He closed both hands around his partner's hips, lifting him up a little so Kazunari could fuck him harder, and the first thrust drove home just as long, talented fingers stroked hard down Shintarou's cock.

Kazunari tried not to use cliches, but if Shintarou's open moan wasn't music it was still a sound that put a burst of heat down Kazunari's spine. Shintarou was gorgeous like this, spread out and undone, lips parted around low gasps, fingers sliding with desperate hunger up and down the long, hard line of his own cock. Kazunari bit down hard on his lip to keep himself from coming immediately when Shintarou arched hard, head tipped back, and his body wrung itself out around Kazunari's cock. He wanted to watch this. The velvety depth of Shintarou's moan did him in, though, and he slid helplessly over the edge after him, hips jerking hard against the curve of Shintarou's ass while the rush of pleasure made the world hazy.

The sight of Shintarou sprawled out afterwards, though, lax and flushed, was just as good.

Kazunari eased Shintarou's legs back down and stretched out to settle against him, winding an arm around Shintarou's ribs. "Good?" he asked softly. Shintarou nodded quietly and rested his bare fingers on Kazunari's shoulder, lightly. Kazunari smiled and snuggled closer, satisfied with the sure knowledge that Shintarou would say yes the next time he suggested this.

End

Ring Led

Kuroko decides to push Aomine a little further, and offers to spank him for breaking his collar (again). Aomine is perfectly pleased, but Kagami needs a bit more reassurance. D/s, Porn, I-4

Daiki remembered that he'd asked Tetsu once, years ago after actually meeting Tetsu's mom, whether he minded that his mom was away so often, traveling for work. He'd been curious. She'd seemed like the kind of parent a person could actually miss having around. He remembered that Tetsu had smiled and said that she was such a good mother when she was there that it lasted him through the times she wasn't. At the time, Daiki had wondered if it could actually work that way, but he knew kind of what Tetsu had meant, now. Daiki's collar was like that for him. (Even though he'd nearly sprained his neck trying to shake the idea out of his head when it first occurred to him, because he really didn't want to be thinking about any parents at all in connection with collar-stuff.)

In any case, he was glad that Tetsu's mom was off traveling tonight, because that meant that he and Tetsu and Taiga were all staying over at Tetsu's house, and he needed that more than usual tonight.

Daiki fidgeted a little, on the walk from the station to Tetsu's house, the way he'd been fidgeting all day, having to hold himself back to keep from walking faster the closer they got. He didn't think the other two had noticed that, but as soon as they hung up their coats in the front hall Tetsu's eyes narrowed at him. Daiki wasn't surprised; whenever the three of them were together, their necks were the first place Tetsu's eyes went to.

"Where is your collar?"

Daiki fished it out of his front pocket and held it up, snapped ends dangling. "The chain broke."

"Again," Tai muttered, scuffing his house slippers on more firmly.

"It's not my fault if they're flimsy enough to break during practice," Daiki pointed out, looking down his nose. "I like having it on all the time." He really liked it a lot, which did mean a lot of wear and tear, he'd admit.

Tetsu would be rolling his eyes, if he were the sort to do that, Daiki was pretty sure. "It's a good thing I keep spares for you." He plucked the broken necklace out of Daiki's fingers. "Come on." He led the way up the stairs to his room. Daiki grinned a bit, to see that two spare futons were already spread on the floor; fitting the three of them into a regular bed meant a lot of being careful not to elbow anyone in the stomach, and sometimes it was nice to do something more energetic. He could do with something energetic, after having the broken collar itching at him all day. Tai promptly claimed the bed as a seat, stretching his legs out and bunching the pillows up at his back, so Daiki leaned in the doorway while Tetsu rummaged in the lower drawer of his desk. Finally, he straightened, a new necklace of slim leather cord just like the old one hanging from his hand.

"Come here." Tetsu crooked a finger at Daiki and then pointed to the floor before him. Familiar heat locked around Daiki, the heat of being with Tetsu like this. He took two long steps away from the door and sank to his knees at Tetsu's feet, lifting his chin to bare his throat. Tetsu smiled, and his fingers slid briefly through Daiki's hair. "Good." The cool of the leather settling lightly around Daiki's throat made him shiver, and he had to close his eyes for a moment.

"You know," Tetsu murmured, fingers stroking over the line of Daiki's new collar, "sometimes I think you let them break just so I'll put another on you."

Daiki looked up at him, relaxed by the feeling of being collared again. "You did say that you would, as often as necessary."

The corners of Tetsu's mouth curled up faintly, and he set his fingers under Daiki's chin, keeping his head tipped back. "I did, and I will. Though I'm starting to wonder if I should punish you, when you break another one, for putting me to the trouble."

Daiki's eyes widened at the sharp thrill of heat that sang through him. He liked it when Tetsu pushed him, and also when Tetsu showed him a limit and made him mind it. He had to swallow, and when he spoke his voice was husky. "Punish me how?"

Tetsu made a thoughtful sound and was quiet for long enough that Daiki bit his lip, starting to be a shade nervous. There were things Tetsu could do that really would hurt, but... he didn't think Tetsu would do them. He didn't think. Tetsu pushed him physically, but never denied him, never pushed him away. When he felt Tetsu's thumb sliding along his lower lip, coaxing it free of his teeth, his breath caught and he looked up to see that Tetsu's eyes had turned gentle. He relaxed again on a flood of warm relief and settled on his knees, waiting.

"Perhaps I should spank you," Tetsu murmured. "Do you think that would punish you suitably, Daiki? If I put you on your hands and knees and spanked you until your ass was hot under my hand?"

Heat rushed through Daiki again, and he was sure he was flushed. That was exactly the kind of thing he loved to take from Tetsu, and something more intense than they'd tried yet. "Yes, Tetsu," he managed.

Tetsu smiled slowly, thumb brushing back and forth over Daiki's mouth. "Then maybe I'll give you your first spanking tonight, while Taiga watches."

Daiki nearly moaned at that thought, at the idea of being watched while Tetsu punished him. At least until a strangled sound from the bed made them both look around. Tai's hands were locked tight in the blankets and his shoulders were taut.

"Tetsuya," Tai started, sounding a little strained, "I don't think I... I mean..."

"Taiga." Tetsu squeezed Daiki's shoulder and murmured to him, "Come." He went to Tai and straddled his lap, wrapping his arms tight around Tai. Daiki did as he was told and stretched out beside Tai while Tetsu held him, fingers stroking through that wild red hair. "It's all right," Tetsu told their lover softly. "If you don't want to watch, or be present, that's fine." He leaned back just a little and cradled Tai's face in his hands as Tai looked up at him, uncertain. "But if you're worried, perhaps it would be better if you did stay. So you can see for sure that I would never do anything to hurt either of you."

Daiki could feel the shudder that ran through Tai, and the way he slumped back against the headboard with a faint sigh. "Hey." He nudged Tai's ribs, gentler than usual. "You were watching all of that, weren't you? I want it, Tai." He smiled, slow and dark, and leaned in to nibble on Tai's earlobe and murmur, "I want it a lot. I want Tetsu to push me to the edge and hold me up against it."

Tetsu reached out and tugged Daiki's collar taut with a finger hooked under it, eyes dark and sharp. "I will hold you there. I'll hold you safe."

This time, Daiki felt Tai gasp and relax at exactly the same time he did, and he'd bet money that Tai felt the same wave of want and security. It was just the way Tetsu made them both feel. Tetsu smiled and tipped Tai's chin up with a finger under it. "Just think of it," he said softly. "The sounds Daiki will make, the way his breathing will hitch with every stroke. The way he'll spread his legs wider when his ass starts to turn red under my hand. The way he'll beg for more."

Daiki moaned against Tai's shoulder. "Fuck, Tetsu, you don't have to wait for that. Please spank me, spank me hard..." His cock was hard already, just listening to this.

A quick glance down showed that Tai's was, too.

"So." Tetsu leaned in and kissed Tai's forehead gently. "Do you want to watch it, or would you rather not?"

"I..." Tai swallowed and took a breath. "I think I want to stay."

"All right. Tell me if you need to stop."

Tai nodded, shoulders finally softened into their usual line when they were with Tetsu this way, relaxed and trusting. That was better; Daiki liked seeing how Taiga trusted Tetsu. It made things feel right.

Tetsu tugged on Daiki's collar again, making him shiver. "If you need to stop, beg me for it."

That would come easy, if he really did need it, and Daiki leaned bonelessly against Tai, smiling. "Yes, Tetsu."

"Good." Tetsu eased back down the bed and pulled his shirt off, swift and easy. "Take your pants off, then."

While Daiki hopped off the bed to strip off his jeans, and socks and underwear because anything else would just feel silly, Tetsu pulled Tai to his feet and led him to one corner of the futons.

"Here." Tetsu laid his hands on Tai's shoulders and pushed him down, following to kiss him slowly. In the middle of the kiss, he reached down and undid Tai's jeans, and Daiki made an appreciative sound. Tai was definitely hard. Tetsu laughed low in his throat as he pulled away, leaving Tai breathless, and looks back at Daiki. "As for you..." He scooted into the middle of the futons and pointed in front of him. "Down on your knees and bend over."

Daiki did as he was told, cock jumping a little at hearing such a brisk order from Tetsu, something that made it very clear who was in charge. He spread his knees wide against the cotton blanket and bent down, feeling his tank top, the only thing he was still wearing, slide up his back a little. Tetsu's hand stroked over his bared ass, slow and warm, until Daiki sighed and rested his forehead on his crossed arms, relaxing.

"That's better," Tetsu murmured. "There's no reason to be tense, Daiki. You're all mine, and I'm going to spank you until you don't have any questions at all about who you belong to."

Daiki moaned soft and wanting, and arched his back a little to offer Tetsu his ass. "Yes, Tetsu..."

Tetsu's hand lifted and came down again firmly, spanking him across one cheek and then the other. One and then the other. Again and again, firm and steady. The feeling of it set Daiki gasping. The smack of every stroke was sharp in the room, and Tetsu's hand on his ass stung every time, but it felt good too. His ass felt warm and full, and the knowledge that it was Tetsu spanking him, Tetsu's hand punishing him, made Daiki's cock throb.

"Your skin is turning red and hot," Tetsu murmured to him, pausing to rub his palm over Daiki's stinging bottom. "Do you like that, Daiki?" He slapped Daiki's ass again, sharply.

"Yes, Tetsu!" Daiki gasped, fingers closing in the sheets under them.

"Good." Tetsu's hand turned a little heavier as he started spanking Daiki again. "Remember that this will be your punishment whenever I have to put a new collar on you."

Daiki moaned into the sheets, panting for breath with the heat building under Tetsu's hand, making his ass throb in time with his cock. It almost really hurt, now, except that Tetsu's hand lingered, giving his ass a little rub after every sharp blow, easing the bite of it into a slow burn, deep and intense. "Yes Tetsu, please," he gasped, spreading his legs wider, arms thrown out along the futon. It was so good, feeling Tetsu's control of him, Tetsu's control of what he would feel and how. And knowing he was being punished made him hard and breathless.

"You definitely like this, don't you?" There was a smile in Tetsu's voice, and his other hand slid between Daiki's legs to stroke his cock. He spread Daiki's burning cheeks apart and rubbed a finger over his entrance. Daiki nearly came right then and there.

"Fuck, please Tetsu!" He whined when Tetsu rubbed his entrance a little harder, and then gasped when Tetsu drew back and gave his ass a ringing smack. "Tetsu!" It was good, so good, like being fucked really hard. Tetsu's other hand stayed wrapped around Daiki's cock, fondling him as Tetsu spanked him hard and sure, every stroke making Daiki jerk on his knees and moan with the burst of sharp heat across his ass. "Tetsu, Tetsu fuck, please!" Tetsu's hand tightened on his cock and one last punishing stroke across his ass sent fireworks down Daiki's nerves. He groaned as he came, shuddering in Tetsu's hands.

Taiga hadn't been entirely sure about this, at first, even though Daiki had sounded so turned on by the idea. It was no secret Daiki was into more extreme things than he was, after all. But he did trust Tetsuya, and seeing Daiki spread out waiting for Tetsuya was undeniably hot.

And... it sure didn't sound like Daiki was in pain.

By the time Tetsuya was spanking Daiki hard enough to have made Taiga wince before this he was also fondling Daiki's very hard cock, and God the sounds Daiki was making. He sounded, he looked like he was being fucked. Fucked hard. And really liking it. Watching Daiki's ass turn red under Tetsuya's hand and hearing Daiki begging hoarsely for more was enough to set Taiga panting himself. It was hot, just as hot to watch Daiki being taken this way as it was to watch Tetsuya drive Daiki out of his head any other way. To watch Tetsuya so focused on Daiki, so in control of his body and responses.

Even in the middle of that intent focus, though, Tetsuya gave Taiga a warm little glance every now and then, checking on him, checking that he was all right. That alone was enough to ease Taiga down into the familiar heat of following Tetsuya's lead. And that was what kept Taiga's hand off his own cock, even when Daiki finally came, sprawled open under Tetsuya's hands, so perfectly, wantonly sensual that Taiga had to curl his fingers into the cotton under his knees. Tetsuya hadn't said he could touch himself yet.

So he watched, breathless and hot and really hard, as Tetsuya eased Daiki down to the futon, murmuring to him that he was very good, that everything was all right, that he'd done just as he should. Daiki relaxed under those words, curling up on his side and watching Tetsuya and Taiga with dark, sleepy eyes, flushed and smiling. Tetsuya leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple.

And then he rose and came to Taiga.

Taiga looked up at his lover, lips parted with how quickly he was breathing. "Tetsuya..."

Tetsuya smiled for him and ran slow fingers through Taiga's hair. "Yes." He knelt between Taiga's spread knees and pulled Taiga down to a kiss. Taiga moaned into his mouth as Tetsuya's hand closed on his cock, wrapping his arms tight around Tetsuya and holding on.

"That's good," Tetsuya told him, voice soft and sure, hand working slowly up and down. That hand was warm, far warmer than skin-heat, and Taiga's breath caught as he realized. That was the hand Tetsuya had been spanking Daiki with—but it was gentle on him, so gentle, and Taiga had to bury his head against Tetsuya's shoulder, moaning.

"Shh." The fingers of Tetsuya's other hand slid through his hair, cradling his head. "I have you, Taiga, I have you safe. It's all right. Just feel."

Heat swept him down, deep, so deep he couldn't do anything but shudder as long waves of pleasure raked through him. That soft assurance that Tetsuya saw the differences between Taiga and Daiki, would hold Taiga the way he needed to be held, undid him so completely he was almost sobbing for breath against Tetsuya's shoulder. Tetsuya held him until he quieted, fondling him gently until Taiga was wrung dry.

When Tetsuya finally coaxed Taiga down to the bedding, he willingly settled against Daiki, lying quiet as Tetsuya sat by them and petted them gently. It was Daiki who finally stirred and looked up at Tetsuya.

"You haven't..." he started, suggestively, and Tetsuya laughed and set a light finger against his lips.

"I've had both of you trust me and give yourselves up to me completely, tonight. I have what I want."

Daiki colored a little and ducked down against Taiga's shoulder, and Taiga huffed a bit of a laugh, holding him closer. Daiki was the one who would try anything, who loved the edge, who wanted to be pushed, but he got all shy whenever Tetsuya laid out the emotional stakes in so many words. Taiga rested his head on Tetsuya's knees, reassured that Tetsuya knew how completely he held them both.

Tonight had reminded Taiga of why he did.

He let his eyes fall closed and relaxed against the futon with Daiki in his arms, feeling the slow slide of Tetsuya's fingers through his hair. This was where he belonged.

When Tetsuya's fingers stroked lightly over the slim cord of his collar, Taiga smiled.

End

Fitting to the Crime

Kasamatsu and Kise play bed games, and Kise gets the punishment he deserves. (And, more importantly, the spanking he wants.) D/s, Porn, I-4

Kasamatsu Yukio liked to think that he was a straightforward kind of guy. He could blindside opponents as well as any other point guard, and better than most in fact, but that was different. That was just good strategy. Friends and classmates and, for that matter, lovers, weren't a matter for strategy. So it took him a few minutes, especially in the afterglow of pretty damn good sex, to realize what Ryouta's little sidelong glances meant. When he did, he couldn't help laughing, pulling Ryouta tighter against him and ruffling his already rumpled gold hair. "You're just insatiable, aren't you?"

Ryouta's cheek heated against Yukio's shoulder as he ducked his head, but he was smiling, shy and hopeful. And since Yukio didn't have to be Ryouta's captain any more, and it wasn't one of Ryouta's infuriating pretend ploys, Yukio let fond indulgence curl warmly through him and cuddled Ryouta comfortably against him. He didn't mind playing their other game, today, if Ryouta wanted it. "So," he murmured, carding his fingers through that bright hair, "were you good for your senpai at practice today?"

Ryouta made a tiny, gleeful sound at the question, and the offer in it, before composing himself appropriately. "I'm afraid not, senpai." The way he bent his head would have looked genuinely contrite except for the sparkle of his eyes as he looked up under his lashes.

"No?" Yukio gave him a stern look, setting his fingers under Ryouta's chin to tip his head up and meet Yukio's eyes. "What did you do, Ryouta?"

"Well, Hayakawa-senpai was trying to beat his own record for successful passes after a rebound." Ryouta already sounded a little breathless, eyes wide under Yukio's steady gaze. "And I just mentioned that maybe it would help if he kept his energy up longer, and that I had a spare bottle of Yunker Fanti. Nakamura-senpai said that really wasn't the problem, but Hayakawa-senpai had already drunk the whole bottle."

Yukio had to bite his tongue hard to keep from bursting out laughing; he suspected Ryouta deliberately thought up answers to that question that would make him laugh, and Yukio just hoped he wasn't actually putting them into practice. Honestly, if Ryouta was really doing half the things he said he did when they played like this it was a wonder Nakamura hadn't strangled him yet. The thought of Hayakawa after even one slug of an energy drink didn't bear thinking on, and a whole bottle was downright terrifying to contemplate. When he thought he could control his voice again, he frowned at Ryouta. "That definitely wasn't being good for your senpai. You know what it means when you misbehave, don't you?"

Ryouta lowered his eyes and wet his lips as a flush slid up his fair skin. "Yes, senpai," he said, soft and husky.

Yukio sat up, sliding back until he could ball up a pillow against the headboard at his back, and tapped his outstretched thigh meaningfully. "Get in position, then, and take what's coming to you."

Ryouta was a little breathless with anticipation by the time he'd laid himself down over Yukio-san's lap. Sometimes they did it differently; sometimes Yukio-san made him bend over with his hands on the wall, or kneel on the seat of the desk chair and hold on to its back. This was how he liked it best, though, so that he could relax with Yukio-san's hand on his back steadying him while the other hand rubbed his obediently presented ass slow and sure. Yukio-san was always careful about preparing him for a spanking, and that always made Ryouta hard, feeling the slow slide of Yukio-san's palm and not knowing when his punishment would start.

In fact, sometimes Yukio-san took long enough for Ryouta to get a little impatient.

"Senpai," he lilted, and then yelped when Yukio-san smacked his ass once, sharply.

"Be quiet, Ryouta," Yukio-san told him sternly, squeezing the faintly stinging spot.

Ryouta shivered and subsided as he was told, waiting while anticipation wound tighter. And tighter. When Yukio-san finally lifted his hand and brought it down firmly, he yelped and jumped even though it didn't hurt very much at all. This time, though, Yukio-san wasn't stopping, and each smack of his palm against Ryouta's bare ass was a little harder than the last. Ryouta's breath came shorter as the slowly growing sting of the blows built to a hot burn across his bottom. He was gasping with each firm stroke, and still Yukio-san held Ryouta down over his lap and spanked him steadily, until he lost count of the strokes, until he felt like his whole body was suspended from that slow burn, all his attention focused on how briskly Yukio-san's hand met his upturned ass. He was moaning a little by the time Yukio-san paused, running his warm hand up and down Ryouta's thigh.

"Are you sorry for what you did, yet?" Yukio-san asked sternly, and Ryouta blushed against the cool sheets under his cheek. Most of him was swept up in the heat of being punished by Senpai, but part of him was also warmed that Yukio-san was so good to him, so careful with him.

He didn't want it to end yet, though, so he answered with perfect truthfulness, "No, Senpai."

"Tch. Of course not."

Ryouta bucked, eyes widening as Yukio-san spanked him ten times, fast and hard. By the end of it he was draped over Yukio-san's lap, legs spread, panting for breath against the sharp burn throbbing in his ass. And also in his cock.

"You are naughty today," Yukio-san murmured, and that hint of a purr in his voice as his hand rubbed circles over Ryouta's bottom made Ryouta moan.

"Yes, Senpai," he agreed, breathless, forehead pressed to the sheets, eager for his punishment to continue.

He didn't have to wait long. Yukio-san's hand on his back spread, holding him down, and the hand on his ass lifted. When it fell again, it came down with a crack of skin against skin and a fierce, hard sting across his burning cheeks. And again. And again. Ryouta whimpered, hungry for the intensity of those blows, for the certainty of being punished by Senpai.

"Look at you," Yukio-san told him softly. Crack. Ryouta bucked over his lap at the sharp bite of Senpai's hand on his ass.

"This is how a naughty boy should look." Crack. Ryouta's toes were curling up with every stroke.

"Bent over his senpai's knee with his ass turning red from getting the spanking he deserves." Crack. Ryouta whined, mouth open as he gasped for breath. His ass was on fire, and he was so hard, hard from the things Yukio-san was saying, hard from how much he was feeling. Two more of those punishing strokes, though, and he could feel his shoulders tightening, feel himself pressing up against the edge of too much. "Please, Senpai!" he gasped out.

Yukio-san brought his hand down one more time, hard and merciless. It was perfect, the perfect reminder that Yukio-san was the one in charge, the one who would choose how Ryouta was punished. All in a breath, Ryouta was over the edge, coming hard as he shuddered over Yukio-san's lap and Yukio-san squeezed his burning bottom, slow and firm. For long, endless moments, Ryouta's whole body was wringing out with the heat Yukio-san had spanked into his ass, and Ryouta just clutched at the sheets and moaned with it.

When he finally relaxed, draped across Yukio-san's lap and dazed, Yukio-san told him softly, "Good, Ryouta. That was good." His hands were gentle, now, as he rubbed Ryouta's back slow and sure, grounding him again, and Ryouta sighed a little, eyes closed. Those words reminded him there would be arms to catch him and hold him as he came back down, so he let himself drift.

Yukio watched Ryouta carefully as he rubbed Ryouta's back slow and easy, and nodded when Ryouta finally stirred and stretched a little. "Come here, Ryouta," he coaxed quietly, guiding Ryouta up off his lap and back into his arms. "That's right. Everything's all right." He leaned back against his pillows, ignoring the mess across the sheets and his thighs for now, and drawing Ryouta down against his chest so he could lie without any pressure on his rear. He held Ryouta close, running slow fingers through his hair, until Ryouta finally sighed and looked up, smiling. "All right?" Yukio asked, touching his cheek.

Ryouta nodded and snuggled closer. "It's good. Thank you, Yukio-san."

Yukio kissed his forehead gently. "My pleasure. You know that."

"I meant..." Ryouta started, and Yukio laid a finger over his lips.

"All of it is my pleasure," he said, firmly. "Including watching over you and taking care of you."

Ryouta turned pink and ducked his head against Yukio's shoulder. Yukio smiled softly, stroking his hair again. It was true; he liked knowing Ryouta would submit to punishment from him, and he liked just as much knowing that he could take care of Ryouta.

This care, this charge, this responsibility, he had succeeded in. Without question.

He cradled Ryouta closer, satisfied.

End

Flirting With...

Imayoshi may have a bit of an exhibitionist streak, and Kasamatsu may be incapable of turning down a challenge, and this may eventually get them both in trouble. They should probably stop--but maybe not just yet. Porn, I-4

Imayoshi Shouichi was enjoying himself.

So was his current partner, to judge by the sounds Kasamatsu was making, and Shouichi leaned closer, pressing Kasamatsu more firmly up against the wall to purr in his ear, “Careful, now.Â  You don’t want anyone looking down here, do you?”

Kasamatsu pushed him back far enough to glare at him in the dimness of the arena service hall they were currently taking advantage of.Â  “Like you’d care,” he hissed.Â  “You like doing this practically in public.”

Shouichi smiled charmingly at his favorite rival, mostly to hear the way it made Kasamatsu growl.Â  “So do you,” he pointed out, sliding a hand down to cup Kasamatsu’s cock, which was very definitely hard by now.Â  Kasamatsu bucked into his hand with a stifled gasp before catching his breath.

"I," he told Shouichi in a dire, if very hushed, tone, "need to learn to duck faster every time I see you off the damn court."Â Â

Of course, he immediately undercut the pronouncement by tangling his fingers back in Shouichi’s hair and pulling him down to another kiss, hot and fierce.Â  Shouichi laughed into his mouth; he loved playing with Kasamatsu, both on the court and off.Â  “So what,” he murmured against Kasamatsu’s mouth, “would you think if I turned you around and fucked you just like this?”

"I’d think you were dreaming."Â  Kasamatsu’s voice was amazingly dry for a whisper.Â  There was a glint in his eyes, though, one Shouichi recognized, and a grin curled his lips as he waited for the next part.Â  "If you wanted to put that mouth of yours to another use, though, I might just let you."

Shouichi laughed at that challenge.Â  He loved how sharp Kasamatsu’s edges could get, and how subtle they could be.Â  “That might be fun, yeah.”Â  He slid down to his knees on the dusty tile floor, grinning up at Kasamatsu as he hooked his fingers in Kasamatsu’s waistband and pulled it down.Â  “Let’s find out.Â  And see how quiet you can be while I'm making that 'better use' of my mouth.”

Kasamatsu’s eyes on him turned hot and dark, and he slid his fingers through Shouichi’s hair, tugging him closer.Â  “Yeah, let’s.”

Shouichi wrapped his mouth around Kasamatsu’s cock and purred a bit at the very satisfying way he moaned.Â  That was a good start, and so was the way Kasamatsu’s fingers tightened in his hair.Â  He sucked hard, reaching up to pin Kasamatsu’s hips to the wall when they bucked forward.

"You are such a bastard," Kasamatsu gasped.Â  "I don’t know why I keep agreeing to this."

Shouichi’s brows rose and he drew back long enough to murmur, “What, really?”

Kasamatsu bared his teeth, laughing low and breathless.Â  “Well, maybe I do.”Â Â

Shouichi smiled back, sharp, and let Kasamatsu pull him back in, sucking down the thickness of his cock and humming around it.Â  He liked it when Kasamatsu admitted just how wicked his edge could be.

He also liked the sounds Kasamatsu was making, husky and low, louder whenever Shouichi tongued him, but then caught back at once.Â  It was hot, hearing how conscious Kasamatsu was that they were in a public place, that this might be a service hall but it wasn’t that far from the changing rooms teams had been assigned, thinking about what they would look like if anyone happened to pass by and glance down this side hall.

Kasamatsu was starting to arch taut under his hands when Shouichi heard footsteps.

Kasamatsu’s fingers tightened in his hair, and his moan had a desperate edge.Â  He was too close to hold back now.Â  Maybe he didn’t even want to.Â  Shouichi sucked on him harder, fingers digging into the lean muscle of Kasamatsu’s thighs, and Kasamatsu shuddered against the wall, making hoarse, stifled sounds as he came.Â  Shouichi licked at him, half his attention on the footsteps tapping and scuffing down the hall.Â  Closer.Â Â

Past the service hall they were in.

Shouichi closed his eyes and let himself feel the hot thrill of how close they were to being seen, being discovered like this, let it run through him and pull him right down after Kasamatsu.Â  He clutched Kasamatsu’s thighs, swaying against him as heat wrung him out hard, pulsing through him sweet and wild.Â  When it finally ebbed again, he leaned his forehead against Kasamatsu’s hip, panting.

Kasamatsu’s fingers combed through Shouichi's hair and he murmured, “Pervert.”Â  There was a laugh under the softness of his voice, though, and Shouichi looked up to flash him a smirk.Â  They both knew Kasamatsu didn’t actually have any room to talk.

"So."Â  He levered himself back to his feet.Â  "Think that’ll take the edge off until we actually play tomorrow?"

Kasamatsu pulled his pants back up and stretched against the wall, lazy and satisfied.Â  “I suppose so.Â  Probably.”Â  He laughed at the mock-indignant look Shouichi gave him and leaned in to nip at Shouichi’s lower lip.Â  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Shouichi caught him close for long enough to kiss him, hot and intent; a teaser for the next day.Â  “Until then.”

He stored away the flash of Kasamatsu’s eyes to tide him over until they could meet on the court.

And maybe after.

End