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Lately, Yakumo feels like he’s on the bleeding edge of his self-control.
Usually, Yakumo feels safe when he’s with Eiden. Eiden has this aura of ease that makes him indescribably easy to be around. Yakumo is comfortable whenever they talk, even about dark or difficult subject matter. Under incredible stress, at risk of great peril, Yakumo leans heavily on the sense of security Eiden provides him.
And when Yakumo is in bed with Eiden, he’ll take what the great serpent has to give. Yakumo has yet to scare him away – not with his tongue, his powers, or his– … well.
There are a few things Yakumo hasn’t ‘revealed’ to Eiden. Not just yet. And that brings him here, to Quincy’s doorstep, drawing on every last ounce of his resolve. He knocks.
A moment later, the door opens. There’s a pot of hot water boiling on the spartan stove in the corner, and it smells like Quincy just finished dinner. In the dim light of the evening, the fire in the hearth casts an orange glow over his shoulders and lights up his blonde hair.
“Wasn’t expecting a visitor,” Quincy murmurs.
“M-Mr. Quincy,” Yakumo breathes. “Could I, um, possibly…”
Quincy follows his gaze to the cabin’s interior. Wordlessly, he steps aside and shuts the door behind them. It’s pleasantly warm inside, even for Yakumo’s serpent sensibilities; Quincy guides him to a seat at his kitchen table and sets about making them tea.
They’re not far apart in height, but heavens is Quincy so much larger. Yakumo is narrow as a board, lacking in exactly the kind of bulk Quincy boasts in abundance. Every shift of the bigger man’s posture brings a new muscle to Yakumo’s attention. He’s always been captivating, but now that Yakumo has set his mind to the task…
I… can do this. I can be brave. Yakumo swallows and picks at his thumbnail while Quincy pours the hot water. Mr. Eiden says I can ask for things I want.
Yakumo takes a deep, steadying breath, while Quincy sets a cup of tea before him and settles in at the seat across the table. The serpent practiced this speech, but it takes a few nervous false starts to get going.
“You’re going to think me very strange,” Yakumo breathes, reaching for the teacup and taking it into his hands. It’s delightfully hot, and he allows the sensation to soothe him. “But I… you’ve always been so kind to me, Mr. Quincy, and I, I thought, I thought perhaps–”
Quincy reaches out and settles his large, calloused hand over Yakumo’s slender fingers. He squeezes, gently, and Yakumo is immediately more at ease. Quincy’s touched him like this before – fleeting, steadying, but always tender. It makes the snake’s belly clench.
“Slow down,” he prompts.
Yakumo exhales carefully before he continues. “I… have kept a part of myself, of my body, from Mr. Eiden,” he begins. “I would like to be more… um, honest, w-with my– that is, I’d like to try some new things, but… Mr. Eiden is…” He bites his lip, looking for the courage to continue. “Mr. Eiden is a human. And my body, in its truest form, is… definitely not. And I’m afraid of losing control, or… scaring him off.”
He looks up to gauge Quincy’s reaction so far and finds the larger man calm and unaffected. Thank the stars, but…
If he doesn’t ask now, he’ll never ask. He hurries on to the question that kept him up half the night:
“Mr. Quincy, h-have you ever done… that, with a yokai?”
Immediately he wants to shrivel up, dissolve, or curl into a tight ball on the floor. He drops his gaze back to his hands and waits for the other man’s outrage, but–
“Yes,” Quincy answers immediately. He tilts his head to the side when Yakumo looks up, amber eyes narrowing.
“... But not with a snake.”
Oh. Yakumo gasps, in spite of himself, and presses a hand over his mouth. His cheeks flood with color. Quincy knows where he’s going with this – of course he does, what other reason would Yakumo have to show up in the middle of the evening blathering on about his body; Quincy must think he’s so stupid–
“Yakumo,” Quincy interrupts. The hand covering the serpent’s on his cup squeezes, tighter. “I’m still listening.”
Yakumo shakes his head as he feels tears welling up in his eyes. “I-I, forget it, it was foolish and presumptive for me to–”
“Have you talked to the little devil about it?” Quincy prompts. His thumb rubs a line across Yakumo’s knuckle, reminding him of its presence. Yakumo manages a nod, but nothing more.
Quincy hums. “Did Eiden tell you he wouldn’t do it?”
“N-no!” Yakumo interjects, defensively. He places his other hand on Quincy’s forearm, fingers trembling. He doesn’t want to fall apart, not when he’s made it this far. “I, I was the one, I said I was too afraid to show him, to let him do that to me, in that form, and…”
Yakumo’s blush deepens, pathetically, his voice growing very small. “He asked if there was anyone I w-would be comfortable showing. O-or… more than showing.”
“... Hm. I see.”
Quincy doesn’t move. But when Yakumo finds the courage to look up and meet his eyes, the other man’s gaze is as level as ever… and maybe, if he’s not imagining things, a little… intrigued…?
It takes a moment, but Yakumo finds his voice again and rushes to qualify his presence. “You’ve been around the longest, out of– well, I thought of talking to Mr. Rei, but he’s, he can be–”
“A bit invasive,” Quincy nods. “Too much curiosity.”
“And, Master Kuya, w-well… I couldn’t even imagine…”
Quincy nods again, his expression grim. “A wise choice.”
“B, besides, you’ve…” Oh, what can he even say– “You’re very k-kind to me, as I said, so I thought you might be willing to overlook some… unpleasantness.”
“... Unpleasantness?” Quincy asks, tone gentle and honest. “Yakumo, you’re very beautiful.”
And Yakumo wants to hear that, but he finds himself shaking his head, grimacing, pulling away from Quincy’s hold. “I’m monstrous, when I’m– down there, when it’s changed,” he breathes, leaning back in his seat–
But Quincy tugs him back, by the wrist. His smile is a balm to Yakumo’s fraying nerves.
“I think I should be the judge of that.”
Slowly, as though not to startle him, Quincy tugs Yakumo’s hand to his mouth. Yakumo holds his breath as heat pools in his stomach. Quincy kisses Yakumo’s thumb, then lets his lips brush the back of the snake’s knuckles. Each touch is like a spark against sensitive skin. All the while, Quincy watches him squirm.
“Uhm,” Yakumo hiccups, pulling his knees close together. The thing in his belly throbs again, harder this time.
“Have you changed, yet?” Quincy murmurs, low and captivating. Yakumo’s heart twists.
“Have I… I’m sorry…?” He whimpers, biting his lip.
“Your cock.” Quincy leans closer, holding tight to Yakumo’s shaking wrist. Grounding him. “Is it inside, or out?”
He can do this he can do this he can–
“... They’re, they’re inside,” Yakumo whispers. “Both.”
Quincy’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. Yakumo notices the handful of seconds it takes for him to regain control over… whatever that emotion was that flickered, behind his golden irises. It looked like hunger; Yakumo of all people should recognize an appetite.
“... True snake, then,” Quincy nearly whispers. “Two.”
Yakumo nods emphatically. Quincy exhales long and hard before he stands and clears his throat. For a heart-racing moment, Yakumo thinks he’s going to ask him to leave, but before his panic can swell the blonde extends a hand.
“Let’s go to bed.”
When Yakumo takes Quincy’s hand he can feel his pulse, through his skin. A dark and greedy part of him croons for attention, and Yakumo scents the air to breathe Quincy in. He’s all oak, sweat, coal, and fresh-cut pine. When he stands they’re too close, chest to chest. They could– he could kiss Quincy if he could just–
“You still haven’t told me what you want.” Quincy’s breath is so hot against his lips, and Yakumo has to blink away new tears.
“H-hard to– it’s so hard to say out loud, Mr. Quincy,” Yakumo gasps. Their mouths are only an inch apart, and the tension is more than Yakumo can bear.
“A kiss, first?” Quincy proposes.
So much more than that, but– “Yes, please.”
The moment their lips meet in a barely-there and oh-so-sweet caress, it’s over for Yakumo. He whines, broken and demanding, and opens his mouth into the embrace. He grips Quincy’s shoulders and shouts a delighted moan down his throat as two huge arms encircle his waist, pulling him close. Quincy tastes as good as he smells, hot and woody and so inviting. His kisses are firm but patient, and Yakumo’s toes curl into the floor.
Guiding them backward, Quincy licks into his mouth like it's made of honey. Spit smears their cheeks while Yakumo lets his tongue grow long and probe deeper, tracing Quincy's teeth and lips before–
“Oh,” he squeals, pulling back with a start. “Oh, I-I got carried away! I'm so sorry, I'll–”
“Takes much more than that to scare me away,” Quincy growls between trailing kisses to his collarbone. “I've slept with much meaner creatures.”
“Oh,” Yakumo repeats, but this time in pleasure. They're close to the bed now, he thinks, if that's where–
“Did you come here because you want me to fuck you?”
Yakumo nearly wails. He wasn't prepared for Quincy's bluntness, nor to answer questions. Below, his slit pulses with an unsettling need. He nods as the tears spill over, down his cheeks to soak his chin. “Yes, I'm so sorry, yes–”
“Shh,” Quincy quiets him with a chaste kiss beneath his eye. He's so gentle it hurts, and it only makes Yakumo's tears come faster. “Don't be sorry. I'd like to.”
“Wh, what?”
“I'd like to,” he repeats. Firmly. “Couldn't you tell?”
“What– oh–” Something hard nudges against Yakumo's hip where they're pressed dangerously close. He lifts a hand to pull his hair out of his face, newly anxious.
“It's as I said. You're beautiful, and you've got a kind heart.” Quincy says it so easily, like it doesn't run circles around everything Yakumo has thought about himself for his entire life. Full of wickedness, a crawling creeping thing.
Mr. Eiden says I'm beautiful too, Yakumo reminds himself, taking a deep breath. And that anyone would be lucky to have me as a friend.
“Are you alright?” A low voice and another tender touch to his cheek interrupt his reverie.
“Y-yes, I– You're very handsome too,” Yakumo blurts. “Not just kind. You're so strong, and, and I-I'm envious of your build!”
Quincy chuckles. “I haven't half the strength of the great serpent, but thank you.”
Their embrace feels warm now, and Yakumo's heart slows to a manageable flutter. But he hasn't a clue what to do next. The bed is right there, but his first and only thought is to shove Quincy onto it – which seems inappropriate and unlikely to work out in his favor.
Sensing his trepidation, Quincy sits down first. He tugs Yakumo down on top of him, so the tall snake is seated on his thighs.
“Can you tell me what you want, specifically?” Quincy asks, sliding his hands down Yakumo's long torso.
“I-I don't know,” Yakumo breathes. He can already feel his slit swelling at the question alone.
With a kiss to the snake's collarbone, Quincy hums thoughtfully. “Mm. Can I ask?”
“A-ask?”
“Ask you what you want.” Bearish hands squeeze his waist.
Yakumo considers this for a moment while heat pulses into his sex. “I… y-yes, that's… easier.”
A brush of lips against his throat, a thumb in his waistband. “Can I see you?
Biting his lip, Yakumo nods. With a soft shuffle of fabric, he slips out of his satin slacks, then tugs off his light jacket and blouse. The front of his underwear is already glistening where his slick has bubbled over, filling the air with the scent of sex. Yakumo feels his whole body glow with red heat as he slides the shorts down and away. He covers himself with a long hand, but Quincy tugs it out of the way to take a closer look.
As far as Yakumo is aware, his slit resembles a human vulva without all the folds. Not unlike labia, the lips of his mound can puff and swell with arousal – and he can feel them shamefully pinkening under Quincy's scrutiny. His cocks, tucked up and away inside his body, poke their tips out like a human's clitoris. They, too, can swell and ache for touch.
But Yakumo's never shown this to anyone before. Ever since he could wear a cock he's kept it on; not even Eiden has seen him like this. So while Quincy drinks in the sight of him with wandering eyes, all Yakumo can do is tremble.
“M-must you stare?” Yakumo finally gasps. twisting in Quincy's arms to press his thighs closer together.
“Yes,” Quincy says, voice seasoned with heat. “Can I touch?”
Yakumo whimpers but nods, and Quincy lifts his hand to press against the serpent's belly. Heat blooms under his palm and drips down to his slit, which parts his lips just another fraction of an inch. Hungry.
When Quincy's thumb slides down along the edge of his hole, Yakumo wants to sob. The skin there is so sensitive, so hot, and the barest hint of pressure feels like too much. Quincy's thumb wanders down, then all the way back up, before it shifts and dips into the gap between his lips.
“Oh!” Yakumo gasps as Quincy pushes deeper through the wet and exposed muscle of his hole until it tickles the tips of his cocks. He hesitates there before stroking soft circles, around and around.
“Wet,” Quincy grunts.
“S-sorry–”
“It's good.” The blonde covers the mound of Yakumo’s sex with his whole palm and squeezes, warming him before replacing his thumb with two wide and exploratory fingers. They trace the line of the snake’s slit, looking for the best way in.
Yakumo's starting to drip with slick, and it quickly coats Quincy’s hand. His knees are wobbling and weak and he clings tightly to the front of Quincy's shirt.
“Is this where you want me to fuck you?” Quincy’s eyes are eyes locked on his work down below. His fingertips disappear up to the first knuckle inside Yakumo’s slit, and the snake sobs.
“Yes! H-hurry, please, I don’t– oh–!” Yakumo gasps and bucks his hips into the touch as his eyes shut tight. It has to be now, while he’s still mostly normal, before everything bleeds past the edge of his control–
Except Quincy’s fat fingers are already at their limit as they press inside Yakumo’s tight passage. The snake’s moans are open-mouthed and needy as the fingers spread and nudge, bumping up against everything inside of him that cries out for attention– that brought him here, for this. When Quincy pushes up, the pressure on Yakumo’s swelling cocks is overwhelming and urgent.
“Not enough room,” Quincy grunts, thrusting his fingers in and out to prove his point. “Can’t even add a third.”
No, no, no. Yakumo folds in against Quincy, letting his forehead and arms rest on the thicker man’s broad shoulders. “No, it will fit, it has to fit, you have to–”
Carefully, Quincy’s fingers stroke the undersides of Yakumo’s twin cocks where they disappear deeper into his body.
“These have to come out,” he urges, quietly.
“No!” Yakumo’s reply is nearly a shout, and it makes Quincy wince and withdraw his fingers. But Yakumo can’t bear the thought of scaring him off, not like this. He collapses out of his high kneel and into Quincy’s lap, keeping him in place with the weight of his embrace. His words are muffled, spoken directly into the blonde’s shoulder.
“L-like this, I’m… you can pretend I’m human,” he whispers, letting his tears soak through Quincy’s shirt.
Quincy tenses at that, and Yakumo’s despair escalates. “I-It’s not so far off, right? You have to do it while they’re inside!”
There’s a long moment of silence between them. Yakumo would be spiraling out of his mind with panic, but Quincy is stroking his back while they sit. It keeps the snake from bolting.
Then the bed shifts, and in one smooth motion Yakumo finds himself flat on his back on the mattress. A heavy weight settles over his hips as Quincy nestles between his thighs. His firm hands spread them wide, his face inches from Yakumo’s swollen mound. The glow in those amber eyes is hungry, predatory, and it makes the snake’s heart ache.
“I don’t want you to be human,” Quincy explains. “I want you to be you. And I want this…”
Quincy’s tongue slips past his lips and dips into Yakumo’s slit, scooping upward–
“... loose enough for me to fuck.”
It feels like Quincy’s whole mouth disappears into Yakumo’s hole. He bucks his hips until two rough hands catch them and pin him in place by his thighs. A hot tongue swipes deep inside of him over and over and over again, lapping up each ounce of slick as it surges forth. Quincy’s thumb finds the top of his slit and massages the exposed heads of his cocks while his mouth explores the rest, until they swap and start over.
Yakumo aches for it, clenches around nothing until the fingers are back and working him open, stroking him inside, coaxing everything about him to swell and take up space and build pressure. He doesn’t want to let it happen, and yet he wants relief more than anything in the world.
No one’s ever put their mouth on Yakumo’s slit. Quincy’s doing it like it’s his job, like he’s hungry for it. He groans into the mess as Yakumo swells to accept even more of him, and every second is divine. But the pressure, it’s building so fast, it’s–
“S-stop, stop! I can’t– AHHN!”
White-hot ecstasy squeezes Yakumo’s belly like a vice and his back arches, his head falls back, and his toes curl. Pleasure floods his bloodstream and his pelvic muscles contract, so gratified yet so empty– is he coming? It feels like an orgasm– and it pushes his cocks out, the both of them. They fall stiff and needy onto his belly with a wet plap, where they quiver for attention.
“Shit,” Quincy breathes as he sits up. Yakumo catches the glistening slick smeared across his face in the firelight, and it’s– filthy, yes, it’s filthy but– the hungry thing inside him is elated to see the mark of his possession, to smell himself mingling with Quincy’s musk. Quincy uses his forearm to wipe the worst of it away, and the snake hisses in satisfaction.
Before Yakumo can speak Quincy shoves two fingers back inside, underneath the fleshy base of his cocks. They both groan at the give, and again when Quincy can add a third finger without meeting resistance. Yakumo’s so wet he’s soaked, and every touch feels effortless.
“Put it in,” Yakumo begs, shamelessly, already sniffling and red from tears and humiliation. “It’s ready, I’m so ready, please Quincy, I’m so empty–”
“Hh,” Quincy grunts, taking himself in hand and hurrying to line himself up. Yakumo spreads his legs wide, lifts his hips, forgetting himself in the moment as he goads Quincy onward. He’s not even sure what he’s searching for, other than to be full of something. And he’s mad for it.
When Quincy finally sinks in, Yakumo screams. His hands fly out to catch the sheets and fist them, scrambling for purchase. He’s so loud that Quincy cups his face and asks if he’s alright, but Yakumo hardly hears it. Instead, he hooks a long leg around Quincy’s thigh and urges him closer.
Quincy’s cock is fat and perfect for filling what space remains behind the roots of Yakumo’s hemipenes. Every time he thrusts Yakumo feels more wet, more slick, more of himself and his control slipping away. He comes again, inside, in rolling waves of spasming heat, and he can feel how much Quincy wants more. He can smell the arousal in the other man’s blood – he wants to bite him, taste every molten inch of his body, and take him in completely. But he’ll settle for his cock, if he must.
“So good,” Yakumo gasps, barely able to catch his breath. “So good, Mr. Quincy, it’s so good, don’t stop–”
Quincy braces himself and gives as good as he’s told, fucking into Yakumo’s tight heat without reserve. His tenderness is gone, likely banished by Yakumo’s sudden ferocity. Yakumo can see tendrils of darkness creeping out of him unbidden, his snakelike essence caressing the edges of Quincy’s body to catch and pull on him just so.
With each featherlight touch of his lips to Quincy’s skin, Yakumo can taste salt, and he wants more. He throws his arms around Quincy’s shoulders and pulls them chest to chest, skin to skin, so he can run his forked tongue along the side of the blonde’s throat. He tastes as sinfully delicious as his cock feels.
“Too much?” Quincy pants into Yakumo’s ear.
“Not enough, not enough,” the snake pleads in reply.
Yakumo is promptly folded in half, knees up to his ears so Quincy can nail him deeper. The bed rattles at their effort and the snake sinks his fingers into whatever flesh he can grasp, rolling his hips into every thrust. He can hear his slick where it’s grown tacky on their thighs, and he can feel it where it’s pooled beneath his ass. But the most miraculous thing is that he doesn’t care; he just wants more of whatever Quincy’s giving him.
When he feels Quincy getting close, Yakumo panics at the thought he might pull out. Without thinking, he wraps his dark essence in tight coils around Quincy’s hips. Quincy startles when he finally notices the intrusion, though he barely slows.
“What are you–”
“Finish inside me,” Yakumo demands. His voice is dark and a bit ugly but it’s honest – and the strangest thing is that it makes Quincy smile to hear it.
“Only– haah, had to ask–”
And now Yakumo sees why snakes writhe and tangle the way they do when they mate, because when Quincy comes he needs him to stay inside. Yakumo keens and locks his legs around Quincy to keep him from moving, but it’s still not enough. He reaches a hand down to grab one of his cocks and stroke – and Quincy, graciously, grabs the other. When Yakumo hurtles over the edge into oblivion he spills from both cocks, all over his belly, but he’s not prepared for the pleasure that comes when he clenches around Quincy’s spent cock.
“Hh, ah, ahn, Qu– you’re, inside, it’s so good–!” Yakumo groans between gasping breaths as he holds onto Quincy for dear life, riding it out. Quincy obliges him by grinding a little deeper, and the sound of his slick shifting and mixing with Quincy’s come is almost too much for Yakumo to bear.
When he’s finally come down from his peak, Yakumo is mortified – but Quincy isn’t far, and he can sense the serpent’s increasingly rapid breathing.
“Am I allowed to pull out?” he teases, kissing the tears from the corners of Yakumo’s eyes.
“I-I’m so–”
“Don’t apologize,” Quincy interrupts, as gently as he can. “You feel incredible.”
“Oh, don’t– I’ll–” Yakumo squirms as belly twists again. In spite of himself, he keeps his legs locked tightly around the backs of Quincy’s thighs.
“Do, do you have to pull out?” he asks, meekly. “I-I can go again.” And again, and again…
“You’ll be sore.” The larger man leans back and peers down at where they’re connected. “You’re already swollen. Are you sure?”
The embarrassment brings Yakumo’s hands back up to cover his face. Swollen, he can see everything, it’s so– … But he stops himself from drifting too far into his self-loathing. Quincy said he felt good. That he was beautiful.
“I’m… sure.” The serpent nods, parting his fingers to peer through. Quincy looks at him with affection, and it only ramps up his hunger for the man. “If this much hasn’t… scared you.”
“The opposite,” Quincy smirks. He shifts his hips, and Yakumo can feel his cock twitching back to life inside. “I’ll have you as you are.”
“A mess,” Yakumo half-chuckles. He gestures sheepishly down, at the everything smeared between them – speared open on Quincy while his own cocks drip and twitch awkwardly.
Quincy reaches down and pushes a finger in alongside his cock. He brings it back out, glistening, and pops it into his mouth. Yakumo whines.
“Hardly a mess,” Quincy murmurs. “A meal.”
When their lips meet again, Yakumo can’t help but think Quincy’s hungrier than he looks.