Work Text:
Daily life has become considerably slow ever since the Vision Hunt Decree has been abolished. It's cause for celebration, undoubtedly, but after being at war for so long, the Watatsumi Army soldiers don't know how to return to their past identity anymore. Apart from the higher divisions, most of them have been disbanded and returned to the safety of their homes. It will take them time to rehabilitate back into civilian life, and it doesn't come without a widespread feeling of boredom and stagnation.
Gorou especially feels this; once a lauded general with an overflowing schedule, he nowadays often gets antsy seeing as he doesn't have much to do anymore outside from his mountain climbing hobby and his (secret) part-time job. Lady Kokomi once proposed he helps the numerous villages across the Inazuma archipelago with bandit problems and monster invasions. It's not a bad idea at all, he could make himself useful, and whatever free time remains he can pick up commissions to fill the gaps for here and there.
Such is the reason he finds himself in the quaint little village of Konda, frozen in his tracks, grip dangerously weak on the basket of produce he's carrying, watching a tall, built man work the fields under a blazing sun. He almost didn't recognize the man if it weren't for the familiar red tattoos running down his arms and torso and the red horns jutting out from the front of his head among unruly bushy white hair. The man doesn't have his usual (and prized, probably) jacket or vest on, and Gorou figures he's been outside a lot considering his skin now has a slight honey tint to it. The chest straps and choker stayed on, however, and Gorou bets that they've created quite the distinct tan lines already.
Gorou doesn't have his standard attire either, sporting farmer-inspired garments that consist of a regular top, sleeves tied up with a tasuki, loose shorts that fall right above his knees and just simple work sandals. He was hoping when he left in the morning that people wouldn't be able to recognize him anymore by his clothes, but he forgets that the most characteristic parts of him are in fact his unmistakable dog ears and tail.
While Gorou considers whether he should go on about his day or approach the man, Itto halts his work and straightens up to redo the ponytail that's loosened from the ribbon. Gorou must've been staring a little too hard because he sees Itto coincidentally turn to face him and raise his hand in a casual greeting.
"Yo, Gorou!"
Gorou wasn't prepared for Itto immediately spotting him, unaware that he sticks out like a sore thumb anywhere; he clears his throat and mind and returns a wave that has a little too much gusto to it.
There is no escape anymore, Itto has already acknowledged Gorou's presence by name and has accidentally alerted everyone in the vicinity. He still can't tear his eyes away even as Itto closes the distance between them in just a few strides. Gorou takes a step back, worried that his hands might try to grab something when Itto is within reach.
Itto asks him about his day, but it sounds like a distant echo because Gorou is focused on watching him take a long swig of water from a gourd, fixated on the way the bump in Itto's throat bobs hypnotizingly when he swallows. Some water escapes from Itto's mouth and Gorou fights a strange desire to lap it up. Itto wipes himself clean with the back of his hand and it breaks Gorou's trance.
"You good?" Itto asks.
Gorou realizes he has yet to say anything, and still can't muster enough concentration to form a pertinent answer, so he just nods, visibly distracted. His silence backfires when Itto touches his cheeks with a warm palm; it leaves a lingering burning sensation in its wake.
"Woah, you feel pretty hot, you sure you're okay? Need some water?"
Maybe it's the heat (it is quite hot out, actually) because Gorou is becoming increasingly light-headed. Itto offers him his gourd but is starled when Gorou suddenly grabs his wrist. A few vegetables roll over the edge of the basket, and neither of them makes an attempt to pick them up. Gorou locks Itto's eyes in an intense stare and basically tries to telepathically communicate to Itto just how turned on he is right now.
It must've worked because Gorou soon finds himself in a claustrophobic shadowy tool shed eagerly swallowing down as much of Itto's cock as he can. It's hard to see in the darkness, but just enough light peeks through the cracks in the wooden planks that form walls that anyone curious would be able to see exactly what they're doing. He feels a warm sliver of sun shining on his face like a spotlight, and he must look delectable like that because Itto is growling praises of Gorou being a good boy and how beautiful he looks, and he's cupping Gorou's chin urgingly. Gorou understands: he relaxes his jaw and allows Itto to slowly slide down his throat smoothly, and he knows that Itto wouldn't breach the point of how deep Gorou is able to take him solely based on how often they've done this before. He traces the demarcation between the tanned and light skin of Itto's waistline before reaching around to grope his firm ass. Gorou deliberately maintains eye contact as he lets Itto fuck his throat.
Gorou's erection strains against his pants and he can't sit still anymore; he's imagining how Itto's cock, the one that he currently has trouble fully fitting in his mouth, will feel inside him this time around. He wonders how his body hasn't been imprinted with the shape of Itto's cock yet at this stage, but he doesn't complain because every time he's penetrated feels like the first time again and the stretch is just so addicting. While his fantasies run wild in his mind, he's lifted off his reddened knees and his back is pressed, almost slammed against one wall that gives a little under him. His bare feet (where did his sandals go?) tiptoe on the edge of a workbench behind Itto and his hands grab onto the straps crossed over Itto's chest; he can see the tan lines he was speculating about earlier under the leather and he smirks. He worries about falling, but his precarious balancing act is supported by Itto's firm grip on his ass.
He feels a couple fingers enter him and he gasps. He doesn't remember seeing any lube; he supposes Itto must have already had some, but he can't think straight enough to care or tease him about having anticipated this happening today. He grinds onto Itto's hand and that elicits a teasing chuckle from him that gives Gorou goosebumps. The fingers work Gorou's hole while a mouth busies itself with his neck and he can't concentrate on anything anymore. He inhales Itto's scent, a pleasant mixture of firewood and cedar with a hint of sand and soil, and moans his name needily. He hears Itto whisper a curse right into his ear right before a large heat pushes inside. He sighs in relief as Itto sheathes into him fully.
Itto's muscles shift under Gorou's hands. He weighs nothing in Itto's arms, and his whole body rocks back and forth from Itto rutting into him with fervor. His hand travel to Itto's neck and he wraps it around the front, and it looks comically small against Itto. He doesn't squeeze, just lets his hand rest there, but he can feel Itto's heartbeat pound rapidly under his fingertips. They're both filthy and sweaty and in dire need of a bath but Itto doesn't seem to care. He leans in closer and seeks out Gorou's mouth with his own. They're panting like they're trying to breathe life into each other and Gorou's vision is swimming.
He had come a little at some point, he doesn't remember when, and Itto noticed. Itto pauses to wipe Gorou's come with his fingers before licking them clean, presenting Gorou with the naughtiest look he's ever seen. Gorou doesn't register most of what Itto says, something about his dick being so good that he came without even being touched. When Itto still doesn't move post-brag, Gorou tightens around his cock demandingly and Itto hisses in response.
It's strangely quiet outside, but Gorou can't tell if it's from him focusing too much on how their skin is slapping together and how loudly his hole is squelching around Itto's cock, or how Itto's low growling rumbles in his ears and how he can hear his own moans reverberate around the tiny shed. He would worry about someone finding them like this under any other circumstances, but as of now he is way too drunk on Itto's presence and cock to pay it any mind.
As Itto repeatedly hits just the right spot inside him that sends his senses into overload, Gorou seriously considers adding Itto to his daily schedule from now on.