Work Text:
It's absurdly, bafflingly easy. As the apt late nineteenth century English idiom states, like taking candy from a baby. Yorishige spends a stupid amount of time thinking of candy and babies, anyway. He is basically an expert.
Tokiyuki's natural instinct is always to flee, so Yorishige prepares for the seduction to be more of a challenge, require more lies, more coercion, more clever slight of hand. But his candy, his baby, his little lord, his running rabbit—as he does with so many things other children might find frightful, he dives right in. It might even be his idea in the first place, if Yorishige thinks back, instead of forward. He's not certain, as he's not in the habit of looking back. In some ways, he is a runner, too.
—
The trick is to rely on allusions he slips in alongside the other facts. "One day you'll be a great leader." "Sorry I kiss you so much, it's just that in the future, I get to kiss you as much as I want to because we're…never mind, I'll tell you when you're older!" "You'll be a hero, you'll go down in history." Tokiyuki always gets so glitter-eyed at this knowledge—he can't believe it himself, but he can believe it through Yorishige. The wonder of that glorious future provides stable bookmarks for messier truths. If Yorishige strategically omits parts of the story, Tokiyuki gets fidgety and begs for more. Yorishige caves immediately at the begging. He is as good at giving candy to babies as he is at taking it.
Eyes like stars on a clear night, little lips pursed. "We're what in the future?!" He asks, just short of petulant.
"Impatient much! Didn't you hear me, I said I'd tell you when you're older," Yorishige says, leaning in, smiling slyly. Tokiyuki lets him as close as he wants, like his little body knows what the years ahead have in store. "Finish your food."
Instead of eating he taps his chopsticks thoughtfully against his bare foot. He just had a bath and his hair is still wet, sweet smelling. He's letting Yorishige comb it, and it is perfectly detangled already but Yorishige is happy to keep touching. Black silk through his fingers, heavy with damp. "Aw. But I want to know now," he gripes, squirming. "Wait—I am older," he says then, turning and shooting a cheeky grin over his bony, cream white shoulder. "Older than I was one minute ago when you said it."
Yorishige pinches his waist. "You know what I mean. Older, older. You should hit puberty, at least."
His smile gets more coy, conspiratorial. "Oooh, is it something dirty?!" he says then, wiggling his shoulders back and forth in utter glee. Tokiyuki, like many children, is extremely titillated by the mysteries of the adult world. Another trait that smooths the passage to his heart.
"Yes," Yorishige pretends to concede, drumming his fingers on Tokiyuki's ribcage before grabbing him, tickling him, making him shriek. His wriggling body collapses backwards, spine to sternum as he whips Yorishige with his combed hair. In the chaos Yorishige steals a kiss, teeth easily folding the nubile cartilage of his ear. It makes Tokiyuki's laughter dissolve into something higher, wilder, wheezier. "In the future I do dirty things to you and you do them to me," he whispers into that bitten ear. " We swim in mud together."
He stops tickling and Tokiyuki goes limp, flopped and flushed across Yorishige's lap with a hazy smile spread on his face. It makes Yorishige's cock twitch—he looks fucked out, his little childporn ragdoll. "You're lying," he pants, pointing up at Yorishige's face where it vulture-hangs over him. "It's not mud."
Yorishige grabs Tokiyuki's wrist, pretends to eat that pointer finger, eliciting another kicking, delighted scream as he nips at it like it's a carrot stick. "Ok, fine," he says. "It's not mud. But we still can't talk about it, just yet. Soon, maybe. But right now you need to finish that dinner. It's getting late."
Tokiyuki sighs and nods and hauls himself up. Two missions accomplished—Yorishige, of course, has no plans of waiting until Tokiyuki hits puberty. It's actually so terribly dull, to wait. He wants him now, he can hardly stand how cherubic and darling and edible he is. He just has to gently nudge the ball into his court enough times Tokiyuki gets curious, picks it up, and plays.
—
It only takes a matter of days before Tokiyuki shows up well after the sun has set, twisting back and forth in the doorway of Yorishige's sleeping quarters wearing nothing his white undershirt wrap, arms bare and lovely and pale in the moonlight. Yorishige schools his smile and says, "My lord! You couldn't sleep?"
He shakes his head, uncharacteristically shy. "No," he says. "Can I sit with you?"
Yorishige nods, patting his tatami. "Hop on."
He pads over, a little skip in his step and a sly, mischievous smile playing at his lips. Instead of sitting he climbs right into the futon and snuggles up to Yorishige. "Hi," he says, frozen for a second before he decides to loop his arms around his neck, looking up at him with gooey eyes, red cheeks. "I know, by the way," he says.
Yorishige twirls one of the long, wayward strands of his hair around a finger and plays dumb. "Oh? What do you know?"
Tokiyuki squirms against him, licks his lips. He is so warm in the cage of his arms. "What we do, what we are to each other, in the future. I think."
"You think?" Yorishige asks. Tokiyuki nods, blushing even deeper but saying nothing. He has such a crush, and of course he does. Yorishige has done nothing but ensure he is crushworthy to this kid. Pave the way for the future he's seen, ensuring it sticks instead of splintering into some other, less desirable alternative. "Go ahead then, tell me what you think. I'll let you know if you're hot or cold."
He takes a deep breath, mouth twisting to the side before he spits out, "I think…we have sex with each other." It's all whispered but sex is pronounced in a distinct hush, his voice dropping a bit as he pushes the word out with childish titillation, acknowledgement of the taboo. It makes Yorishige want to howl at the moon.
"Wow, Tokiyuki-sama. You're very hot," he purrs, slipping his hand down to his side, pushing up under the soft cotton wrappings to find still softer skin. "You got me."
His eyes widen in thrilled shock—he guessed it, but he's still astonished. He gest squirrely then, rubbing his legs together cricket-style and nuzzling his hot little face into Yorishige's collarbone. "So I'm right?" he says in a muffled squeak.
"Mmhm. Does that scare you?" Yorishige asks, loosening his undershirt so much the wrappings fall away. He strokes his velvet smooth side, thumb idly stroking a soft, barely there kid-nipple as Tokiyuki flings his head back, shaking his head madly, always so eager to prove he is not afraid.
"No!" he says quickly. "Not at all, I hoped..I hoped it would be that."
"Naughty," Yorishige murmurs, letting his hand drop to the comforter, aborting the touch just to watch Tokiyuki keen and surge forward into him again at the loss of contact. He is so cuddly, so affectionate and needy. Even slutty, in the way only an eight year old can be slutty: unselfconscious, a little absurd but absolutely pure, driven by the raw pursuit of unnamed pleasure. "Of course, I don't expect to do any of that until you're grown up," he breezes.
Tokiyuki frowns, clearly disappointed. "Or…we could start now. I don't mind."
"Don't mind?! I need you to want it. That's how sex works, Tokiyuki-sama. It's really important both parties want it."
"Oh, well, ok. I do want it. Really bad," he says quickly, smiling big and dazzling. Yorishige wants to lick it, but he's got to wait. It will be better, sweeter baby candy if he waits. "So can we?"
Yorishige pretends to consider it, playing with Tokiyuki's hair, humming. "Do you even know what sex is? How to do it?"
"Well…no, not really," Tokiyuki admits. "I know when it's with a man and a woman, it can make a baby. And that it involves… you know." Instead of saying parts or penises or anything, he goes as far as coyly rubbing his little kid stiffy against Yorishige's body. He can feel it even through the gathered fabric of his bed clothes, a hot little almond against his thigh. His mouth waters. "You could show me?" Tokiyuki says hopefully, little hands skimming tentatively down Yorishige's chest towards his lower stomach. God. Such a forward, utterly trusting kid.
"Hmmmm. I could," Yorishige says. "It's not normally done, between adults and kids. You'll be too little—as in physically small—for some of it."
"But not all of it?" he asks, face transforming into full, begging puppydog mode as his hips waggle under the covers. "I won't tell. I'll be really good at it." Then, as his eyes widen and his tongue flits out over his lips reflexively, "Or, I'll try."
"I'm sure you'll be great. Most of the stuff I can show you is easy, anyhow. Like kissing!"
He rolls his eyes. He's always squirming away from Yorishige's kisses, mostly to keep up the appearance of coolness for his friends. "You're obsessed with kissing. We can do other stuff, too, I'm ready."
"Kissing is sex and sex is kissing," Yorishige explains, cupping Tokiyuki's soft round face and thumbing over his lips. "You've only let me kiss you like this," he explains, pressing a chaste mwah to his cheek, which he endures with a grimace. "I'm going to show you sex-kissing, how adults do it, with tongues. Not just kissing on the mouth but kissing everywhere," he says, emphasizing the word by driving their hips together and eliciting a little meep. "You'll like it, it feels good."
He perks up at this, excited to be let in on something adult, something new, something feel-good, something closer to the mysterious realm of sex. "Ok," he says eagerly. "Show me."
"Ok. First things first—let's get rid of this pesky thing," Yorishige says, tugging the cotton wrappings out of the bed and tossing them aside so Tokiyuki is entirely shirtless for him, so pretty and skinny and soft. He looks down at his body, admiring his padded boy-tummy and narrow ribcage, all the way down to his tented pants. Tokiyuki cups his own erection as he feels Yorishige eyeing it, though not demurely. In fact, it's almost flirtatious, like he knows what he's doing. Yorishige licks his lips, unable to stop his expression from becoming animal, wolfish, lecherous.
"You are the cutest thing," he says as Tokiyuki beams and fondles his little dick through the fabric of his pants. "I want to kiss all over you."
"Here?" Tokiyuki giggles, pointing to his laddered sternum, between his nipples.
"Yes."
"Here?" he says, moving to his belly button.
"Yum. Absolutely."
A breathless laugh, a shimmy against the sheets, his cocklet bobbing as he lifts a leg, pointing to his ankle. "What about here?"
"Uh huh," Yorishige says, sitting back and capturing the ankle in question, pressing a series of hungry kisses to the ticklish sole of his foot, scraping teeth over flexing toes. Tokiyuki shrieks, kicking and laughing as Yorishige straddles him, pinning his legs under his weight as he bends to kiss the other pointed-to places, alternating between tender points on his chest, one after the other. On the sternum he can feel his wild heartbeat thundering under his lips. "If we do this, you need to be more quiet," he gently scolds between kisses. "Ok?"
"Ok," Tokiyuki stage whispers, grinning down, so unafraid, so in love. He's limp and melted now, staring down at Yorishige with half-lidded eyes. "Promise."
"Good boy," Yorishige murmurs, loving the way Tokiyuki is totally at his mercy, curious and open and willing. He experimentally kisses his way down, rewarded by tiny hitching gasps and giggles.When he reaches Tokiyuki's stomach he fucks the tip of his tongue into his tasty, sweaty little bellybutton, eating it out for a minute, cock hard enough it fucking hurts.
"You're so weird," Tokiyuki snorts, wiggling, all ticklish. "Why are you kissing me there."
"I told you, want to kiss you everywhere."
He lies momentarily still, winded and out of breath as he points below his bellybutton, onto the flat, hairless expanse of no man's land between his waistband and navel, resuming the game. "Here too?"
"Mmhm," Yorishige rumbles, closing his eyes and kissing that spot with reverent gravity.
A somber weight creeps into the air, created by the powerful, wordless arousal of a child. He points to his little cock. "Even here?"
"Tokiyuki-sama—especially there," Yorishige tells him.
His eruption of nervous laughter almost sounds drunk. "I pee from there."
Yorishige pulls back, gathers his finger and presses an exaggerated, smacking smooch to the tips of them. "Chef's kiss," he says, which, of course, means nothing to Tokiyuki so he clarifies, "little boy pee is a delicacy, I would suck it right out of you if I could. Also, for the record, this is a lot of what sex is—playing with the parts you pee from. If you're gonna get squeamish about that we're gonna have a problem."
His eyes are so sparkly it's like swallowing two diamonds. "I don't have a problem..I know that about sex," he says, grin tiny and wicked. Then, he narrows his eyes and cocks his head ever so slightly, lowering his voice as if he's about to tell a secret. "Guess what?"
"What?"
"I want to kiss yours, too, Yorishige-dono."
Yorishige almost always knows what his face is doing, but he loses sight and control of it for a moment, a wave of heat ripping through him with tidal force. "My goodness, so brave," he singsongs, hooking his fingers into Tokiyuki's waistband and toying with it as he levers up onto his bracketing knees. "We need to get your little mouth ready, then. Can I kiss you on it?"
He harrumphs, clearly disappointed Yorishige didn't continue his steady southward path. Plenty of time for that later—Yorishige is gonna milk tonight for all it's worth. "If we have to."
"Trust me, you're going to go crazy for it. Mouth open," he says. Tokiyuki goes AHHH and Yorishige taps his chin with a fingertip. "Just a little bit, like you're going to take a little sip of soup."
He closes it, but only a fraction, which is fine. Yorishige loves seeing the sweet, pink pad of his tongue. He bends down, presses their mouths together and immediately feeds Tokiyuki his own tongue in wet, silky flicks. Tokiyuki takes to the new texture immediately, just like Yorishige knew he would. He only resisted kisses before because he found them condescending, babyish, coddling. But this isn't a kid who needs to be coddled—this is a kid who needs to be seduced. His whole clan is dead and he's training to evade and deal death in equal blows. If he's forced into adulthood, he might as well get the benefits alongside the horror. Yorishige is happy to be that benefit. He licks over Tokiyuki's little teeth, feels out the roof of his mouth, slurps at his kitteny tongue and swallows the excessive spit. Tokiyuki is slobbering so much, it's extremely messy and extremely hot. When Yorishige pulls away to check on him, they stay connected by a string of drool. "Fun, huh?" he asks.
Tokiyuki's lashes flutter over hazy eyes. "Yeah," he says, with enthusiasm. "Really fun."
"Told you so," Yorishige says with a wide, toothy shark's grin. They smile at each other for a few loaded moments, sharing spit and all the secrets of the future. When Yorishige dives back in Tokiyuki opens right up, mouth a little hole to fuck with his tongue, to eat out and devour. He's clumsy and spit-frothy and has no idea what the hell he's doing which makes it all the sexier—no one else has ever gotten to taste this, and no one else ever will. This is Yorishige's alone. It's noisy, sloppy, pure. Tokiyuki's little hips keep rolling, desperate for friction. Yorishige imagines giving him a palm to rut against but thinks better of it—he wants Tokiyuki positively begging by the time he actually touches him, so that there is no question whatsoever about who asked first.
They make out with wet, swirling licks, until it's clear Tokiyuki is about to combust. "Stick your tongue out, let me kiss it," Yorishige asks. Tokiyuki does as he's told, pokes the meager length out and hardens the muscle instinctively as Yorishige sucks it like a tiny cock. When he pulls off, he grins. "Ready for me to do that down there?" he asks, squeezing one narrow, working thigh in a hand and framing his erection with an outstretched thumb.
Tokiyuki's eyes light up and he nods eagerly, hair half undone and spread out all over Yorishige's pillow in a black halo. "Yes yes yes," he says, bouncing his hips on the bed.
"Ask nicely," Yorishige tuts as he licks messily down Tokiyuki's chest, making him squirm and hiss.
"Unh—Yorishige-dono—please. Kiss me there." He tenses up as Yorishige drags his teeth over a nipple, teasing it before sucking it into the heat of his mouth. "Pleaseee."
Yorishige releases the nipple and soft babyfat of his chest with a lewd sound, sits up, and grabs Tokiyuki's narrow hips. "Then show it to me," he says.
He expects Tokiyuki to ditch the pants lightning quick, wriggle out of them eagerly and open his legs so Yorishige can get back to business, but he surprises him by taking his time—peeling the waistband down teasingly after uncinching the ties. It's an eight year old's version of a strip show: childish, a game of peekaboo as he reveals his perfect little hard on in fleeting glimpses. "What a tease!" Yorishige says, squeezing his sides and making his giggles taper into a crushed wheeze. "If you keep doing that I'm gonna lose my cool and eat it," he says. "Bite it right off."
He cackles. "You wouldn't," he says. "You like it too much. Don't you?"
Yorishige's voice is entirely too soft when he answers, "I love it. It's so pretty. Wish you'd let me see the whole thing."
He finally caves, lifting his skinny hips and equally delectable ass off the comforter to peel his pants down and scramble out of them. Then he flops back down, thighs spread, not shy in the least. "There it is," he says, pointing. It sticks straight out, eager and proud. "Good?" he says when Yorishige wavers in awed silence. His voice cracks a bit like he's genuinely concerned he might not be satisfactory.
The blood in Yorishige's ears rushes, nearly deafening. "Oh, Tokiyuki-sama…better than good," he manages. "I wish I could build a shrine to it. I'd go there and pay my respects every day. I'd do nothing but worship it," he says, reaching out and touching it for the first time, working his fingers up and down the length. It's slender like the rest of Tokiyuki, perfectly proportionate, the skin a dusky rose color and the tip poking out of the gathered foreskin, wet and shiny and utterly pink. Candy, baby. He licks his lips. "Think I could just bypass the shrine and worship it directly instead? Cover it it kisses?"
It bobs in the air, affected by the words. On the subject of words, Tokiyuki seems beyond them, chest heaving and eyes dark and blown as he stares at this adult man lusting after his eight year old cock. Instead of saying anything he just nods, swallowing, making fists in the sheets like it might hurt.
But Yorishige is very, very gentle. He arranges Tokiyuki like a gorgeous little doll and lowers himself between his coltish legs, rubbing his hands greedily up and down the smooth flesh, peppering his inner thighs with kisses. Tokiyuki is so horny and ticklish the muscles keep involuntarily jumping under Yorishige'smouth, ropy and young. He pins his little dick between his thumbs when he's ready, licks his lips and sucks the whole thing into his mouth. Velvet soft, summer hot, a hint of piss and sweat and the salt of youth. He moans around it as Tokiyuki makes an unintelligible, reflexive sound and locks up under him, completely overwhelmed.
He goes easy on him, at first. Laps sweet and soft, tracing every inch (there's only like. Two. So it's not a particularly challenging task though he applies himself with extreme dedication) with the flat of his tongue, coating it in spit, tracking every twitch and tremor. It's hard not to get ravenous, though. The Christians are wrong about so many things but Yorishige thinks he finally gets heaven. This is heaven—nosily, messily nursing Tokiyuki's little cock to his heart's content. Drooling all over him, kneading his flailing thighs. At some point he bends him in half, lifting his calves and draping them over his own shoulders so he can access more of his body—his smooth little ballsac, his perspiration sticky taint, the perfect brownpink hole buried beneath it. When Yorishige flicks his tongue over the puckered muscle it gathers and winks, Tokiyuki's prattling moans sharpening into a peal of shocked laughter. "Are you crazy!" he cackles, kicking the air. "That's dirty!"
"Dirty and delicious," Yorishige promises him, lifting his head just enough to shoot a barbed, seedy grin at Tokiyuki from the frame of his thighs before diving back in, slurping and sucking at his tight little hole. In seconds the muscle slackens in overwhelm and he pushes the tip of his tongue inside, spearing Tokiyuki's willing body open as he molests his spit sloppy dick with two fingers. The pleasure must overwhelm the shock, because Tokiyuki's scandalized giggles wheedle into a snagged, pitiful whine. Yorishige could not be happier—he smiles into his crack, switches hands and mouth to resume sucking him off while pushing the very tip of his finger snugly into his ass, just beyond the grip of the sphincter. Tokiyuki loves it—he wriggles his hips, bearing down, cock pulsing and bobbing under Yorishige's lashing tongue.
Alas, even the best of things cannot last forever, and eight year olds are no exception. Eventually Tokiyuki seizes up and arches off the futon in a spectacularly bendy parabola, ass forcing Yorishige's fingertip out of the hot, spasming clench of his body as his cock twitches in a dry orgasm. Yorishige sucks until it softens, then reluctantly lets the tiny, spongy mouthful slither from his swollen lips. When he's certain it's over he sits up, looks down at Tokiyuki to make sure he's not broken. "So, what do you think? Enjoying sex?"
"It's amazing," he breathes, eyes all starry and cheeks all pink and smile all dazzled. "Better than desserts or…or anything."
Yorishige laughs, presses a kiss to his soft cock before disentangling himself from the limp, heavy limbs and lying down beside him. "It's the subject of more poetry and art than probably anything else in the world, besides love," he says, nuzzling into Tokiyuki's hair. "Though, the two are even better together."
"Well, I love you," He says easily, hugging Yorishige with strangling force. "So that must have been why it was so good."
"Fancy that, I love you too! So I bet you're right," Yorishige agrees, heart flipping inside his chest, body on fire. It's not that he didn't know Tokiyuki was in silly, eight year old love with him, but still. It's a wild thing to hold in his palms, like a thrashing bird that's just maimed itself hitting a window, blinking in the light, prepared to take off in dizzy, zigzagging flight. Especially when he knows where it ends up, years ahead of them.
He's achingly hard but in no rush to escalate—that was a lot, and Tokiyuki is still winded against him—but kids bounce back quickly so after a few moments of noncommittal cuddling, those little hands get grabby again, pawing at Yorishige's chest. "When do I get to see yours?" he asks, licking his lips.
"Ready for more already?" Yorishige asks, wrapping a long, inky chunk of Tokiyuki's hair around his finger and tugging with a sharp grin. "You are good at this."
He beams. "I've wanted to see it a long time," he admits, poking his tongue into his cheek. "Longer than just tonight. I've wondered. I bet it's big."
Yorishige shrugs, playing at nonchalance though he is delighted by this confession. All his patient grooming and cleverly crossed lines seemed to have paid off, driven Tokiyuki in the right direction, embedded thorns in his subconscious. "It's not that big. Bigger than yours, but only because I'm older," he says, unable to stop his smile from widening in cheek-splitting glee. "Now—how long have you wondered about it, Tokiyuki-Sama?"
He squirms, cheeks coloring a bit, eyelids dropping to half-mast. "I don't know? I've just daydreamed, because…when mine stands up, I think about yours."
It's fucking dirty talk. He might not have the words or the full context, but the aim is clear: he wants to disarm Yorishige, he wants to express his own desire, he wants to garner desire in return. And Yorishige is a pervert, so it is absolutely working. "Hearing that makes mine stand up extra tall," he murmurs, reaching out and cupping Tokiyuki's hot cheek, thumbing into the sweet blush. "Are you sure you want to see?"
He nods eagerly, eyes stunningly bright in the silver flood of the moon. "Yes!" he says, splayed fingers balling into fists over Yorishige's heart. "Please?"
"Ok—but no pressure. If it scares you, or if it's too big, you don't have to do anything to it, ok? It already feels so good, just to have you in my mouth and kiss you."
"I will want to do things to it," he promises, bouncing up to a polite sitting position, legs crossed as he stares down at Yorishige with unabashed excitement. "I just don't know what because I've never done it before, so you'll have to show me."
"You got it." Yorishige unceremoniously strips from his simple sleep tunic and tugs his loose trousers down beneath his aching, blood-heavy erection. He grips the base, offering it up to Tokiyuki's curiosity, a live sacrifice. It positively throbs under the weight of that awestruck, sparkly eyed stare. Tokiyuki marvels, his mouth dropping open a little, tongue passing subconsciously over his lower lip. "How's that?" Yorishige asks, stroking it idly, showing off the whole length.
He can hear Tokiyuki's thick swallow. "Wow," he says, reaching out with an index finger but stopping just short of touching him. "It's all wet."
Yorishige nods, dabbing his own fingertip into the slickness beading from the slit, rubbing it in a filthy little circle all over the crown. "Mmmhm. That's because I love you so much. The wetness happens before sex when I'm really turned on." He waggles his cock as if it's a puppet. "He wants to make things easier for you by slicking you up, making you slippery so it's easier to push into your body. "
Fascinated, Tokiyuki rolls onto his knees, leans closer, face a mere inch or so away from Yorishige's erection. "Really? Did mine do that? Get wet?"
"A little," Yorishige explains, sliding his hand down the shaft to expose the tip again as more clear fluid bubbles out. "But not as much, because you're younger." Then he sucks in a shaky breath, because he can sense the question on Tokiyuki's about to ask before it leaves his lips.
"Can I touch it?" he breathes.
"Yes," Yorishige whispers. "Tokiyuki-sama, it's yours. Your toy. You can do whatever you want to it, and the rest of me."
He says nothing, just smiles a triumphant smile like he's been granted access to some sought after corridor in a palace, and closes the space between his outstretched hand and the shiny tip. The contact is minimal but it's blinding, electric. Yorishige bites back a gasp as Tokiyuki pets him sweetly, smearing the precum all over with a touch so gentle it's almost nonexistent. "Wow," he says again, quieter this time, eyes so wide, pupils so black. "Soft. But also—hard."
Yorishige nods. "Scary at all?"
"No," he says honestly. "It's—look," he explains, sheepishly pointing between his thighs to his own little cock, which is stiff despite the recent orgasm. "It made mine stand up again."
Yorishige had been so distracted by the spectacle of Tokiyuki's innocent fondling he hadn't even been stealing glances at his little naked boy body—the realization hits him hard in the gut, makes his cock twitch. Invited to ogle, he does just that, reaching for Tokiyuki's thumb-length erection and closing his fist around it, keeping it warm. "You're right," he breathes. "It likes looking at me?"
He nods coyly, hips stuttering as he fucks Yorishiges fist languidly. "A lot," he says. "And touching." Then, as if to prove his point he reaches back out, fanning three fingers over the bobbing crown of Yorishige's cock one by one, coating them in slickness. Then he brings each to his mouth, sucking the precum off, smacking his lips, hollowing his cheeks. Yorishige watches, unable to keep from gnashing his teeth at how fucking cute he is, wrinkling his nose up as he contemplates the taste. "Salty," he says as he licks his lips, the uncertainty morphing into a devious little grin. "I like it. I think I want to lick it right up."
Yorishige's stomach plummets so hard a sound escapes his lips, a wild, reflexive unh. He lets go of Tokiyuki in favor of taking himself in hand again, and offering his cock back up. "Told you, my lord. It's all yours."
He scoots closer on his knees, erection flagging against the convex of his kid-tummy as he leans over, and encircles Yorishige's shaft with a gentleness that borders on delicacy. Yorishige loves how tender he's being—it gives away his inexperience, proves that even when he's eager, he's out of his depth. Tokiyuki gazes down at his cock with a soft, reverent curiosity for a few moments before doing anything else—just testing the weight in his hand and the circumference in a two fisted grip, examining the ways an adult body is different than his own. He traces the veins on the underside with careful fingers, then, gently bats the whole thing between open hands for a second before holding it again, rapt. He's near enough Yorishige can feel every exhalation from his nose, warm and humid and perfect. Patiently he lies there propped on his elbows, not in a hurry to rush a single moment of this precious exploration. So, when the first kiss does happen, it floors him. Tokiyuki closes his eyes and smooches the tip chastely, then pulls back to lick the shine of precum off his lips, looking at Yorishige with love-hazy eyes. "Is that ok?"
Yorishige, who feels like the distilled light of the divine is shooting out every cell of his body and flooding the room with a burnt magnesium white, can hardly breathe. He reaches out, pats Tokiyuki's silky head and manages to assure him, "wonderful. Excellent kisses."
He squirms, pleased with himself. "I can kiss it more."
"Only if you want to kiss it."
"I want to really bad," he clarifies, leaning back in, mouth descending with all the tricks Yorishige only just taught him about making out—mouth open slightly, tongue very soft and very wet. He kisses again, this time with a lingering slowness, right on the glans. Then he moves down, pressing another below the first, and another below that. He seems to like it so much he makes himself very comfortable, clambering down to his tummy perpendicular to Yorishige's body, holding his cock corn-cob style and smacking little wet kisses up and down it, head bobbing. Another chamber of heaven, accessed. Yorishige can hardly see straight through the blizzard of static—pleasure, but also adoration. He reaches for Tokiyuki's perfect round bubble butt, cupping it and squeezing the clenched muscle as he humps the bed. He's clearly getting off on giving an almost-blowjob, hips churning, mouth increasingly sloppy as he smacks kiss after kiss along the length of Yorishige's cock. Yorishige sneaks his fingers into the sweat tacky crack of his ass, nudging against the reflexive gather of his hole. It tightens for him.
"Tokiyuki-sama—kiss it like—kiss it like my mouth. With your tongue," he begs. The request is immediately rewarded. He feels Tokiyuki smile against him before his tongue flashes out and he licks in sloppy, self indulgent circles. He makes out with the shaft for a few minutes before fixing at the crown to suck in nervy pulses. His hips wiggle, he bucks back towards Yorishige's idly questing fingers and bends his knees, kicking the air as he grinds down into the bed and up into the pressure in alternating surges.
If Tokiyuki applied the slightest bit more focus or consistency, Yorishige would have already come, so he's grateful for his aimless meandering. It means he can coast here on the whitehot cusp of ecstasy, rocking up into this little boy's mouth while he molests his sticky hole. It can go on indefinitely, as long as it takes for Tokiyuki to get bored or tire himself out. It's a surprisingly long time—he seems perfectly content to slurp and kitten lick and sucksucksuck and rock his own hips back and forth for a very long time before he finally pulls back with a smack, lays his cheek on Yorishige's burning, slobbered-on cock, and gazes at him. "So what—what's real sex? The kind where you make a baby?" he asks.
Yorishige's fingers are placed too conveniently for him to be dishonest. "Well—two men can't make a baby," he explains, rubbing more deeply into the delicious give of Tokiyuki's body. "So, we use this hole instead."
"Hm," he says, legs still kicking absentmindedly. "Seems dirty. And like it wouldn't fit."
"It can fit, if you take it very slow and use a lot of oil," Yorishige explains. "But probably not when you're this little. The dirtiness…that I don't mind," he says with a grin, withdrawing his fingers from between Tokiyuki's cheeks before sucking them into his mouth. They taste of boy and sweat and spice and musk, so young and filthy and wonderful he can't help but moan around his own knuckles. The truth isn't that he doesn't mind the dirtiness—it's that he craves it, needs Tokiyuki ripe and unpolished and stewed in the sweat from his endless running. He demonstrates as much, sucking the stinging the boyishness from under his nails. Tokiyuki's eyes widen in scandalized shock, then narrow again as he dissolves into giggles, writhing madly against Yorishige and the sheets.
"Are you teasing me?" he asks, wheezing around laughter. "Or is that really where it goes?"
"I'm not teasing," Yorishige swears, crossing himself with a clumsy hand. He feels not entirely in control of his limbs, desire so thick in his blood it's maddened him. "That is how it's done."
"But I'm too little?"he asks, suspicious as he sits up, cheek glistening from where it was briefly pressed to Yorishige's spit-wet cock. "Are you sure?"
"Very sure. I could hurt you if we tried," he explains, sucking his index finger back into his mouth to get it slicked, mind racing ahead. Tokiyuki took "But we can train you, with just a finger, for when you get older. If you want to try."
"Yes," Tokiyuki announces with certainty, smiling a dreamy smile. "But first I want to make you feel good how you made me feel good." He says it so earnestly and generously it makes Yorishige's heart clench—yes he wants to fuck Tokiyuki to pieces and remain the sole captor of his innocence, but he also is so terribly, genuinely moved by his kindness. It's what he loves most about Tokiyuki: his boundless loyalty, his uncorrupted heart in spite of all the pain and hardship he's endured.
"Tokiyuki-sama," he murmurs, twining fingers in his hair, nails against his scalp. "You make me feel so good. There's no risk of of continuing without me being positively delirious with pleasure. Bringing you pleasure is my greatest pleasure. Do you understand?"
He nods, blushing, toying with Yorishige's cock. "Would it feel good for you to put it there?" he asks, hand moving down, moving the hair on his legs against the grain. "In my…in me?"
"So very good," he promises.
"Do we…do that? In the future? Does it fit then?"
"Yes, we do it, and it fits so perfectly in you," he admits, hand sliding back, wet finger prodding into the crease and rubbing Tokiyuki's hole. "You put yours in me, too. We do everything two people can do, together, and it all feels so good."
Tokiyuki purrs and blushes, arches his back, something incredibly natural and heat-seeking about the motion, like his spine knows the future, too, like his body remembers. Yorishige wants it so bad—to be inside the heat of him, or at least near to it, orbiting like a moon pulled into a planet's gravitational field. "It would feel so good even just to rub it here, without pushing it all the way into you. Just feeling your body against mine. Under mine, or on top of mine," he suggests, throwing it out there just to see how Tokiyuki might react.
He takes the bait, face lighting up like he thought of it all himself. "Really? You'd like it? Can we try."
"I'd love it. Yes we can. It will be messy, though—you know when you reached that peak of pleasure, in my mouth? When I do that, stuff comes out of me. Semen. It's what makes a baby. It will happen to you when you get older, too. If we do this it will come out all over you. Is that ok?"
Tokiyuki looks positively delighted by the prospect of being covered in mysterious baby making semen. "Sounds awesome," he says, wriggling. "I want your stuff all over me. I want you to feel good, Yorishige-dono."
"Then sit on my lap," Yorishige says, patting the breadth of his thighs, heart racing ahead of him. "Right over my cock."
He giggles at the dirty word, eagerly and deftly climbing aboard. He settles atop Yorishige's erection so the length of it bisects his little cheeks, rubbing right into the needy crack. "Oooh," he murmurs, squirming on top of it. "It's so, so warm."
It is so warm. His tiny body, the sweat and saliva gathered between them, Yorishige full of blood and so hungry, all of it bordering on unbearably combustible. "It is, isn't it?" he says breathlessly, hips twitching up in a reflexive buck. "Even hot—oh Tokiyuki-sama, I might melt against you. I might catch fire."
He thinks this is hilarious, smile wide as he instinctively begins to rock against Yorishige's cock, smooth little cheeks hugging it tight as he slides up and down the length. "Oh no!" he teases, cocking his head and gazing down at Yorishige with unconcealed devotion. "If it catches on fire it will burn me up, too!"
"Hmm. We'll need water to put out the fire," Yorishige says, thrusting in earnest now, gripping Tokiyuki's tiny hips, holding him place to grind against. He's so slippery, so sexy, his little cock bobbing above the smoothest, sweetest ballsac. "Spit in my mouth. Make it really wet."
His throat bobs as he gathers a wad of saliva in his mouth, then pitches forward, leans over Yorishige's parted lips and pushes the mouthful out. He drools right into him, a faucet of searing spit for Yorishige to swallow, lick up.
Yorishige is close—it's the taste of him, the feel of him, his sweet little hole twitching and mouthing at his cock as he rubs against his ass,. He drinks his saliva, cants up to lick messily over his lips. This is sex without pretense, without lies, without tricks. Utterly divine. A squirming Tokiyuki riding his cock, frothing wet for him, breathing hard, whimpering because he's turned on, too. "Is it—is it melted yet?" he huffs out, circling his butt filthily. Then, mindless, wild: "I wish it could melt inside me."
It sends Yorishige over the edge. His grip bites into Tokiyuki's soft sides and his hips lift up off the bed, incidentally lifting Tokiyuki along with him. Like a bucking horse, like a tidal wave. The orgasm rips through his body with a force bordering on murderous, technicolor and multidimensional. He comes across time, across the cosmos. Spills a gush of sticky hotwhite against Tokiyuki's eight year old asshole, brain split wide over the chasm of the future, where he will do the same thing to him at seventeen, at twenty, at twenty nine, forty three, on and on, a god and a hero, fused through time. At least in one version of events. Infinite fractals unspool inside his mind as he comes, head thrown back, sound falling from his mouth. In some timelines they grow old together, in others Tokiyuki dies, or Yorishige dies, and they are robbed of one another. It's hard to hold onto any one moment for very long, but for a split, pleasure drenched second, Yorishige can see it all: every future. The whole universe, all they are together, or can be together.
Then reality floods back to him, sudden and aching. Adrenaline making his legs tremor, heart pounding. Tokiyuki sits up and reaches down between their bodies, skimming his fingers through his ass crack to curiously coat them in Yorishige's come, which he holds up examine in the moonlight. "It's like liquid scrimshaw," he says, before licking it off. "Yeuch. Doesn't taste very good, though."
Yoirshige stares up at his haloed boy, naked, luminous like the moon. His little lord, his running rabbit. His candy, his baby, his death, depending on which direction time chooses to spill from the split throat of the future. He blinks through tears, and palms up Tokiyuki's narrow thigh. "It's an acquired taste," he manages, throat very hoarse.
"Do I like it in the future?" Tokiyuki asks, looking down with a sweet smile. Young, remarkable. Yorishige stares until his eyes sting, tries to preserve him here, like a pickled egg bobbing in brine. Forever young. Stuck in time, a pressed flower between manuscript pages, untouched by blood, at least right here, right now. You like it in the futures where you get to live. Or where I do long enough to feed it to you. That is the truth. But Yorishige cannot bring himself to say that, so instead he reaches for Tokiyuki. Pulls him down by his hair, curls his arms around his little body and crushes him as hard as he can into his chest. Pickled egg, etched scrimshaw. Every love song, and every sex song. "Yes," he says, because that is easiest thing to say. He gives the moonlight his tears, because Tokiyuki is too young to understand them, and the magnitude of what lies ahead, or does not. "You love it."