Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

That day, Kazuha stepped on his door dripping with blood.

The sun had set early, moon already high in the sky — shorter, colder days, and a storm brewing in the morning had reminded Gorou of the vagrant; as such, he had kept an eye out all day, waiting for the telltale knock on his door frame and the sheepish smile delicately drawn on his lips. Yet he only heard the plip plop of rain pouring outside and against his windows. That was, until around the evening.

Kazuha was shivering, soaked by the rain; and something else, thicker and darker. There was a cut, not deep but worrying, adorning his beautiful face — he was also cradling his arm, and the scent of blood was oozing all over the place, overbearing. Still, as their eyes locked and Gorou’s tail stiffened, he had the audacity to let a small laugh out, wet and strained by — most likely — pain.

“Couldn’t find a shelter, and I encountered, ah, a few treasure hoarders on the road.”

Something flared inside Gorou; a possessiveness, a pressing need to protect and guard . Instead of saying anything, he grabbed Kazuha’s hand — the one that wasn’t bleeding — and dragged him inside his home, nose wrinkling at the overwhelming smell of suffering, and a little bit of fear. He was uncharacteristically quiet, and his fingers twitched at Kazuha’s slight wince.

“Hey— easy, I’m hurt!”

He said it with a chuckle, but Gorou couldn’t reciprocate. As they sat down, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and fetched his first-aid kit, laying out the tools on the table.

“Kazuha,” he murmured, “you need to be more careful.” There was something of a warning layered on his tone, the softest whisper of don’t die so stupidly and don’t you dare leave me behind . As soon as he grabbed a cloth to clean the visible cuts, he felt the feather-like touch of a finger, and a warm gaze cast upon him.

“I’m sorry. I just— I wasn’t close to your home, so it took a bit of time to get there.” He could’ve gone somewhere else, they both knew it — but it was a silent agreement, a pact made between them, after Kazuha’s departure: when rain fell, they reunited. Gorou had actually offered it once, unconvinced and wearing the slightest blush high on his cheeks; not one to stifle his feelings, he let them flow and sensed them crystallize beneath his ribcage. When the wind rose and the clouds filled with rain, he found Kazuha on his doorstep — ironically, he was the one shivering like a lost puppy.

A sigh left his lips, not from exhaustion but from the sheer relief that Kazuha came, once again, to him. Although his wounds were partly Gorou’s fault, the selfish glee of finally seeing the boy again overlapped with guilt, and a small, tentative smile bloomed on his lips. Kazuha, ever the observant one, didn’t miss it.

“Ha! There it is! Come on, don’t dwell on it, I swear I’m okay.” And he slipped a hand in Gorou’s hair, ruffling it and scratching him just behind the ears — where he liked the most, where he, without fault, melted into his caress. Gorou grumbled a little, but there was no bite to it. And if he pressed the cotton a little bit harder than necessary, well, it was but a coincidence.

Kazuha watched him carefully as he cleaned the wounds on his face, and the scrutiny of it was starting to distract him. By the point Gorou had slapped a bandage on his cheek, his tail was slightly wagging and a discreet shade of pink had spread on his face — a smile, most definitely dumb, also adorned his stupid face. Kazuha’s hand was still in his hair, absent-mindedly scratching.

“You know,” Gorou started, voice cracking a bit, “it’s really difficult to focus when you do this.”

Kazuha hummed, for a few seconds, barely acknowledging him.

“You have freckles. It’s pretty.”

And there it was: the brutal honesty, punching air out of Gorou’s lungs. What started as a warm, pinkish hue was now a full-on blush, and the smile he was trying to stifle reverberated on the sway of his tail. Something of a cackle shook his shoulders.

“Shut up, and lose the shirt.”

As soon as said shirt dropped on the floor, tainted crimson by several cuts — some deeper than others —, the somber feeling came back. See, Gorou was a warrior; he faced battles and death all the same, and his own body was littered in scars. He sometimes woke up with achy limbs and a strain on his neck, and dreamt of friends he lost on the field — he had patched up more than one of his companions, but Kazuha… Kazuha was a different story.

His hands roamed around the first-aid kit, fetching bandages and gauze and remedies. He cleaned the wounds with careful, feathery touches, Kazuha’s gaze still heavy on him; there was some kind of tension, unsaid words hanging between them. When Gorou had clasped the last bandage around his waist, something — curiosity, perhaps — possessed him, and he put a tentative hand on a scar that ran deep into Kazuha’s side.

Kazuha let out a gasp, the sound soft and surprised, but he didn’t pull away. Rather, he leaned into the touch, scooting closer, breathing in.

“Go ahead,” he murmured, and Gorou complied.

It smelled like blood, and something else; something softer, warmer. His fingers sneaked around Kazuha’s waist, outlining the cut. He laughed, a little.

“I remember how it happened. You were distracted, and they cut you so deep I was sure you were going to die.”

And yes, he remembered, vividly. His hands painted in crimson, panic spreading inside his chest, and arms cradling Kazuha’s body; he remembered rage flaring up, his teeth bared and claws out against anyone, anyone that dared coming closer. Kokomi had to coax him, to persuade him she didn’t want to hurt him. He couldn’t see anything, feel anything but Kazuha’s slow breaths and blood soaking their clothes.

“Yet here I am, alive and well. Unless you dig these claws inside my guts.”

Gorou snapped out of the memory — and realized he was gripping Kazuha’s waist with both hands.

“S-sorry, I just..” He bit his lip, and looked at him with a tender kind of desperation. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Kazuha’s gaze softened at that, and his hand came up to cradle Gorou’s face. Gorou leaned into the touch, his own fingers still pressed against his sides. As Kazuha inched closer, closer — and closer still, he felt a quiver behind his ribcage, tail wagging and claws barely grazing the marked skin.

“Kazu—”

“I long to sit here / And watch the minutes tick by / Just thinking of you.” Feeling his warm breath on his lips, Gorou stilled, and Kazuha kissed him. Well, it was barely a touch, the flutter of a butterfly’s wings; it was a question, a quest — as an answer, Gorou sprung up and captured his mouth in a soft gasp.

What started as lovely and tender turned rougher by the second, Gorou climbing on his lap and pressing up against him; Kazuha was just as eager, responding with the same fervor, and when Gorou’s lips parted, he wasted no time sliding his tongue inside, drawing little sounds out of the general. He swallowed every whine, huff and choked-up moan that slipped through his mouth, and Gorou shivered against him, breaking off the kiss to catch his breath.

Kazuha’s look made it worse. He seemed dazed, eyes glazed over and full of something like love. Just as he opened his mouth, no doubt with another haiku in mind, Gorou’s look fell on his chest, and he jumped away, scrambling.

“Kazuha! Your wounds ! Why didn’t you tell me they were bleeding?”

Gorou grabbed the bandages, face flushed and tail wagging so hard it was hard to keep upright, and Kazuha just laughed, settling down on the couch. He breathed out, and whispered, just for himself:

“I want to feel it / The breathtaking certainty / That comes with our love.”

Chapter Text

Kazuha still hadn’t left. It had been a few days of Gorou fussing over his wounds, and him stealing soft, tiny kisses — on his lips, his cheeks, his hands and neck. He slept surrounded by his smell, Gorou standing guard part of the night, but always woke up with the boy curled up against him, on the edge of the bed. Every morning, he petted him behind the ears, enjoyed seeing his leg quiver with the need to scratch a specific spot.

In the span of these few days, he learned a few things about Gorou. Gorou wasn’t a morning person; he liked to crawl into his arms, groggy and still half-asleep, and apologized as soon as he really roused, roaming his chest to make sure he hadn’t reopened some of the wounds. Kokomi had stopped by to check up on him and patch up the cuts but, even then, Gorou was weary.

Kazuha also learned that Gorou was easily flustered. He shivered at the smallest touch, and was hyper-aware of Kazuha in general — his ears always turned towards him, even when he was facing away. But the worst was the smell; as soon as their eyes locked, Gorou let out some kind of scent, sugary sweet yet spicy, his face reddening and tail nervously swaying. It took some time, but Kazuha finally made sense of it: Gorou was turned on.

Somehow, he understood. His own heart was disturbed, the rhythm erratic when his thoughts led him to the first night — he realized rather soon that he was upset that his body had not been able to withstand Gorou’s feisty attack, and longed to see that look, the feral glint he discovered in his eyes.

Now, Kazuha was a patient man, but a man all the same. And seeing Gorou fret around him, a soft, wet towel in his hands, cleaning his body even though the cuts were healed, well — it was about where his limit stood. He let out a slow breath, gathering a bit of determination but also calming himself down. Gorou’s nose was red at the tip, ears flattened against his hair in concentration and tails softly wagging in the telltale signs of his agitation.

So, in retaliation, Kazuha decided to tease him a little. See, Gorou had some of a dog’s instincts, and among these resided the need to please, to be good. Kazuha saw it in the way he preened under Kokomi’s praises, but most in how he looked at Kazuha when he asked him about dinner, like his eyes were saying — is it good? Did I do well?

It started with a small wince, his body curling up over Gorou. He let out a puff of air right against his sensitive ears, holding a smile back at the shiver that shot through Gorou’s spine.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “I’m a bit tired, and it feels a little bit too good.”

He leaned against Gorou, hand travelling up from his shoulder to his cheek. He cradled it, nails scratching at the skin, and clasped it on his chin. Tilting it up was easy, but confronting Gorou’s hungry gaze wasn’t; out of instinct, Gorou sat down on the spot, confusion painted all over his face.

He blinked in question, and Kazuha snapped. The kiss he stole was deep, full of tongue and teeth, and Gorou was out of breath in a few seconds; he whined a little when Kazuha pulled away, chasing his lips and half-climbing on the bed.

Kazuha shushed him, coaxing him up and against him. Gorou was already panting a bit, propped up in his lap, and in his eyes shone the same light — the feral glint of someone that wasn’t entirely human, of someone that could tear Kazuha open in the blink of an eye yet chose to lather kisses all over his face, swaying his tail so hard it was slapping the covers.

“Gorou— calm down, it’s okay, I’m here!” Laughs bubbled in his throat, and he had to physically stop Gorou from licking the skin off his face.

“ Kazuha ”, he breathed, “please just touch me.”

And then, there was no more laughter.

Of course, Kazuha complied. He let his hands dance across the expanse of smooth skin under Gorou’s chest, pressing soft touches on his stomach — he looked for the tender spots, for places that drew tiny huffs out of Gorou’s lips. And those, he swallowed eagerly, licking inside his mouth, tasting him on his tongue and breathing in the musky scent of their arousal.

Gorou’s clothes came down layer by layer, and Kazuha’s mouth travelled down his throat, licking, biting and sucking everywhere he could; he rolled them over, hovering above him with nothing but love — and a whole lot of lust — in his eyes.

“How.. How do you want to do this?”

Energy crackled between them, a gust of wind ruffling Gorou’s hair. He smiled and laced his arms around Kazuha, rubbing their noses.

“I’m all yours. Take what you will.”

Somewhere deep down, Kazuha knew it was because of his wounds — Gorou was still too careful around him, as if afraid that he’d break between his fingers. He kissed him hard, until their cheeks were red and breaths heavy.

“Alright, but next time, it’s your turn.” And it stirred something in Gorou’s eyes, but he didn’t have the time to say anything; Kazuha fetched a vial of slime secretion and lathered it on his fingers, a wicked smile adorning his lips. “I said next time , love.” Then he slipped one in, and Gorou whimpered.

The rhythm was slow, tortuous on purpose — Kazuha was testing out the angles, already scissoring two fingers inside Gorou. He watched his reactions carefully, abusing different spots as soon as he realized the effects it had on him. Soft mewls filled the room and, soon, Gorou grew frustrated.

“Kazuha— enough already!”

“Mh?”

Gorou was scrambling away, but Kazuha’s free hand held him firmly.

“Shh, shh. Tell me what you need, love, I swear I’ll provide if you’re good enough.”

Gorou growled. Kazuha chuckled.

Just as he tried to dig his claws in his wrist, Kazuha twisted his fingers, angling them right at his prostate. It drew a literal wail out of him, and made him hee stars, strained between pure bliss and frustration. Unsurprisingly, he caved in.

“K— Kazuha, please, just… Fuck me.”

And wasn’t it beautiful? There he layed, splayed out on the bed and red all over. Kazuha smiled and kissed him thoroughly, his fingers slipping out. Gorou shivered in anticipation as he was turned over, propped on his hands and knees, but Kazuha calmed him down with a scratch behind his ears.

“Remember to breathe, okay?”

Kazuha aligned himself with his entrance, cock already aching and throbbing from neglect, and pushed in as slowly as he could, feeling it clamp on him — it drew a small whine from him, and he was pretty sure he heard Gorou sob. Once he was fully sheathed in he paused, revelling in the sensation, in the desperate noises Gorou was making.

However, it took him a minute to realize the sheets were stained, and another moment to understand what happened.

“Gorou… Did you come just from that?”

No answer — that wouldn’t do. Kazuha pulled out, just as slow as he entered, then slammed back in, squeezing his tiny, tiny hips with a bit of a warning. Gorou choked on a yell, muffling the noises in a pillow.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Kazuha clicked his tongue, pressing his fingers even harder. He leaned in, his mouth barely centimeters away from his ear. “And here I thought you were a good boy.”

At that, Gorou flinched; he whipped his head towards Kazuha, tears already filling his eyes.

“No, no don’t say that, I— I’m a good boy, I swear, I didn’t mean to come, it just felt so good, and, and I was so happy—”

“Shh, shh, hey, it’s okay, don’t cry. I know you’re good, love, and we’re going to prove it, alright? I’m gonna move, now.”

Gorou nodded, still trembling a little, and Kazuha pressed butterfly kisses all over his spine, in rhythm with his hips. Every snap of it was a little bit harder, more precise; until he found the prostate again and made Gorou howl.

Kazuha was whispering sweet nothings and praises against his skin, making him shiver — but then he grabbed his tail and pulled , and the waves of another orgasm threatened to wash over him, so he cried out.

“Kazu, I, I’m gonna come—” but then, nothing. Kazuha stopped moving and gripped the base of his cock, squeezing it hard enough that he couldn’t come. The frustration tore a sob out of him, and he turned over to look at him, lips wobbling.

“Wasn’t I.. Wasn’t I good enough?”

Kazuha smiled, soft and controlled, but with a discreet strain to it.

“Not yet, love, hold back a bit for me, okay? You’re doing great, don’t worry. And I swear, if you hold back long enough, I’ll milk you dry.”

The filth — there was no other word for it — that fell off his lips had an instant effect on Gorou, and his walls clamped down hard on him, almost making him come on the spot. Kazuha laughed then, shallow thrusts still resounding in the room.

“You like that, baby? That’s good, that’s good.” He let his cock go, hands going back to Gorou’s hips. “You have no idea—” he panted a bit, “how long I’ve wanted to do this. To see you like this, on your hands and knees, begging so beautifully…”

Gorou was trembling again, whimpering and drooling all over the pillow.

“But I also thought of you fucking me, long—” thrust, “and hard—” another thrust, “until I wouldn’t even be able to stand on my two legs.”

“Kazu— I’m gonna, ah, I’m gonna come—”

“Go ahead,” he growled, “I’m right here with you.”

Kazuha grabbed his throat, hoisting him up, and Gorou came on the spot; it was ethereal, how his eyes rolled back and his tongue peaked out a bit, how he let out the most alluring sounds. Kazuha wanted — needed — to hear more . He kept moving until tears streaked his cheeks, then pressed soft kisses down the back of his neck, stroking his tail. Gorou whined again, but Kazuha didn’t stop; he grabbed his cock just as the orgasm went down, and pumped it, testing the waters.

At that, Gorou huffed, trying to grab his hands.

“W— wait, not yet, it hurts—”

“Shh, Gorou, focus on me, okay? We’re gonna try something, you’ll feel very good in just a bit.” If he sobbed again, his cock twitched in interest, and his hands stopped scrambling to free it — so Kazuha proceeded.

He stroked it leisurely, fingers dancing along the sensitive skin, thumb pressing on the tip. Every move was punctuated with a thrust, until his own orgasm felt too difficult to hold back; at that point, he bit Gorou’s neck, and used a bit of wind to keep teasing his cock.

“Say, Gorou,” he panted on his back, rhythm erratic and legs quivering, “can I come inside?”

By then, Gorou was fully hard again; and the mere concept, the idea to be bred filled him to the brim with something wild. He nodded, so hard he could have snapped his neck, and fell back on the bed with his hips up in the air.

“Yes, yes, please fill me up— I need it—”

A laugh, soft and breathy, escaped Kazuha’s lips. He pressed them on the curve of Gorou’s back, feeling pleasure pooling in the bottom of his stomach — a few more angled thrusts and they both came, hard enough to see stars and slump in the bed. Puffs of air filled the silence, and Kazuha took a few more minutes to breathe before he slowly pulled out, stirred by Gorou’s little, spent whines.

As he tried to get up, fingers clawed at his arms and Gorou whimpered a bit, locking him in what would’ve been a tight embrace, if it weren’t for his lack of strength.

“No, don’t go, please stay…”

Kazuha peppered his face in kisses, and captured his mouth in a longer, wetter one.

“I’m not leaving you, love, but I need to wash you up. Can you stand?”

Unsurprisingly, he couldn't; so Kazuha gathered him in his arms and carried him to the bathroom, gently laying him in the tub. There, he scrubbed his body clean with a towel, scratching him behind the ears and whispering sweet nothings against his lips.

As they went back to bed, Gorou scooted closer to him, cradled in his arms, and nuzzled his neck, listening to the slow rhythm of his breaths. The silence settled in, but he broke it with a tiny nip at his throat.

“Hey, Kazuha?”

“Mmh?”

“Was I good?”

Kazuha giggled a bit and kissed his forehead, hand coming down to gently scrape his chin. Gorou leaned into the touch, big blue eyes looking up to him.

“The best.”