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"Ah, Jiroutachi... You--"
"Shh~"
The smaller oodachi ignored any argument as he crawled over his younger (but bigger, much bigger) brother, gold eyes lined in red flashing as somehow, his sparkling kimono slipped away from his wiry frame. Taroutachi looked at him, a bit of surprise dancing behind his own golden irises, but he made no move to stop the older sword.
He didn't really make any move to help him either, though.
But he watched as the shimmering robes fell from Jiroutachi, watched dainty fingers loosen the obi and watched as the other's pale torso was revealed to him, garments still draped from his waist. His milky skin was still littered with small, now fading purplish bruises. They were surely from him, and he couldn't help but flush a bit.
"Am I pretty, aniki?" The older sword chides. He may be older, but Tarou would always be his big brother. That was just how things worked for them. Jirou had noted the flush on his cheeks, and when he didn't immediately respond, Jirou leaned closer, until his fair face was mere inches from the younger's.
"Pretty, painted in your touch?"
His words fell around Tarou as thick as honey, and he instinctively closed his eyes, knowing before Jiroutachi moved that his lips would soon be captured in a kiss. As it was, Tarou soon met a tongue drenched in sake, and fought it eagerly for dominance. He might not have said a word, but he would let the smaller blade know he was still aware of the situation, and by now wasn't entirely against it. He was larger, stronger, and as he pressed deeper into the Jiroutachi’s mouth his hands went to the other's waist. Tarou gripped the toned muscle there tightly, causing the older sword to gasp against his lips.
"Taroutachi~" Jirou crooned then, pulling away a moment to look at his brother. He still appeared as apathetic as usual, but his breathing had grown heavier and his cheeks now flushed an even deeper crimson. Jirou smirked, pleased he could embarrass him.
"Take my hair down, Aniki," he ordered softly. Golden irises were warm with lust, and he shifted to accommodate for the younger sitting up to reach over him. Tarou's fingers were strong but gentle, combing through ebony locks. Jirou's gaze fell to the other oodachi, meeting his eyes once more as he carefully removed the delicate hairpiece. There was surely a reason for this, Tarou thought, but he couldn't find it. After all, his thoughts were clouding a bit at this point.
Jiroutachi was pretty, he had to admit. Beautiful, in fact. Taroutachi watched the way his long hair fell, now the same length as his own since it wasn't pinned up. He ran his fingers through it once again, finding no tangles and watching as the locks shone in his hands. He didn't get it, just how he always ended up in this situation with the older blade. They'd always been together, though. Made for the same purpose and made for each other. He could never consider it wrong, just… not his first thought when it came to passing time.
Jiroutachi made it hard to say no, though.
Tarou leaned in, pressing his lips against the older sword's neck, his nose brushing against that hair like silk. It smelled sweet, like jasmine or something similar, and it made Taroutachi feel as intoxicated as the other oodachi. He nipped at the skin here and there, giving Jiroutachi fresh bruises littered along the other ones. He heard quiet sighs each time his lips met skin, and he soon felt fingers prying at his own obi.
Jiroutachi untied it quickly, and soon his robes fell around him as well. Painted fingertips trailed down his torso, noting each muscle there, he was certain. Jirou always did this, no matter how familiar he was with his body. He just appreciated it, it seemed.
The older blade then shifted away, Taroutachi looking up at him with quiet confusion. His brother had... that look in his eye, and he knew whatever was going to happen next would be terribly lewd and he would blush about it tomorrow.
"I want to taste you, Aniki."
The younger simply stared at him. Was he asking permission? He'd never--
And he didn’t, because in a motion so swift Taroutachi wondered how he even did it, the other oodachi was lying on the bed and leveling himself with his cock. He shifted the last of the larger blade's kimono away and revealed the whole of his length, smiling to himself at the sight.
"Nii-san is so big~"
"Don't--Ah."
How dare he, the younger thought. His brother was a drunkard, an embarrassing partner, and never one to hesitate when he knew what he wanted. Before he could even chastise the other for his comments, he'd slid the oodachi's length down his throat, swirling his tongue in the most tantalizing way. He was so talented, Tarou couldn't help but think. Unlike his brother though, he wouldn't say any--
"Nng..!" Just how did he do it? Taroutachi... would never say anything about how well-endowed he truly was; there was nothing of importance in that. But he didn't know of any other partner that could take him as deep as Jirou could, and continuously. He couldn't resist watching as Jirou bobbed his head in his lap, taking his cock deeper into his throat and then pulling away and sucking in the process, swirling his tongue around the tip. He kept on and kept on, faster, and the younger had to moan aloud. He half-expected a comment from his partner, but Jiroutachi was apparently too busy now.
He reached over, tangling one hand in silky locks and the other in the sheets. He figured it was best to just enjoy, and Jiroutachi was making it very difficult to do anything other than just enjoy. He kept moving quicker, taking more of him, and every time he sucked a bit harder. The younger oodachi tightened his grip on Jirou's hair, earning himself a rather wanton moan against his length.
But he just kept going.
"Jiroutachi.... Y-You have to, stop," he panted, and as soon as he spoke the shorter blade released his cock with a rather erotic little "pop". His breathing was heavy, his eyes glazed over in desire and his pink lips were swollen and wet with saliva. He cursed the Gods he was created for. His brother was so sexy.
Jiroutachi finally slipped his own robes from his waist, then climbed up on the younger's lap as he captured his lips once more. Tarou responded with hunger, tasting himself on the other's tongue and keeping his hand deep in the other's hair. He scratched at the older blade's scalp, and gasped as a hand went around his length.
He broke the kiss, looking up at Jiroutachi as he stood on his knees to hover above the other. Though apathetic as he was, Tarou was very aware of what his brother was about to do.
"Jirou. No. You are not ready, and--"
"I don't care, Aniki."
"It's going to hurt y--"
And with that, the smaller oodachi was trying his damnedest to press himself on Taroutachi. He grit his teeth, obviously at the pain shooting up his spine, but it wasn't enough to stop him and, a bit masochistically, pushed him even further. Tarou only reached underneath the other to try to spread him a bit, watching in concern as pain contorted his face a moment. All before his very typical goofy smile revealed itself once more.
Tarou scowled a bit.
"You know that isn't good for you. We have been over this."
"I can't help that my Aniki is so attractive~ I just can't resist...!" He giggled in reply, then worked his way down to the base of Tarou's length. This was no easy feat. And without preparation? He would, at the very least, be raw by the end of it.
The younger reached over to the bedside drawer, not finding lube. That was hidden away under the mattress. But, he did find a bit of his brother's lotion, sakura-scented of course, and quickly lathered it against the older oodachi's ass and along his cock. It didn't particularly feel pleasant. Kind of thick and slimy, cold, but... It would keep the other from complaining too loudly and publicly tomorrow about his poor decision this evening.
Even so, it probably wouldn't stop him.
"Aniki takes such good care of me~" he chimed softly, all before rising slightly to begin moving. Taroutachi rolled his eyes, nearly at his limit of tolerance.
He then put his hands on the smaller oodachi's hips.
"Jiroutachi... please, be c-careful," he advised anyway. It was certainly no use, he knew, but his grip would keep Jirou from beginning too quickly (not that he already had) and keep him moving steadily so he wouldn't hurt himself too much. Those would be some repairs that were very difficult to explain.
He looked up to meet the pair of eyes as gold as his own, which had softened a bit. Perhaps it was his caring tone, his kindness, his concern for Jiroutachi. It doesn't last long though, and soon the older blade looked away and rose to fall down on his length.
"Ah.”
Again, the smaller blade rose, now slamming himself down a bit harder, pulling out more and pressing into himself deeper. He moaned audibly, and Taroutachi couldn’t look at him. Not anymore.
Jirou chose not to point this out though, despite noticing it. He instead rose to the very tip of his brother's cock, then slid down it, ass slapping against muscular thighs. Taroutachi grips the older swords waist, nails digging into skin, his eyelids fluttering as he tries his hardest to keep his voice low.
"A-Again?" Tarou muttered, keeping his eyes from his brothers. That would be a death wish.
Jiroutachi laughed lightly, then pressed Taroutachi back into the bed. The younger obliges, nails still digging deep into the other blade and staring up at the ceiling as Jirou began to pick up the pace.
"Nnng~" the older crooned, gradually gaining momentum as he bounced on the other’s length. His own brushes against Tarou's toned stomach, the feeling a bit dizzying on top of all the alcohol he's consumed. "Aniki... Let me..." He nearly whines, all before leaning forward a bit to meet his brother’s eyes. His cock presses flat against the younger blade, and Taroutachi sighs softly, reaching around to take it in his hand.
"Aah~ T-Tarou.... I-I..."
The younger inhales deeply, rolling his hips into the smaller blade from underneath. He meets Jirou's eyes, and there's now some kind of vulnerability there, Tarou can always find it.
He sits up, wraps Jiroutachi's legs around him and promptly flips them both over, Jirou now on his back. He’s the one who blushes this time, and Taroutachi is now so close he can smell the sake on his breath and feel the heat on his brother’s body. He then pulls back before plunging deeply into his partner.
Jirou cries out, not properly prepared for this, wrapping his arms around his brother’s broad shoulders. He tangles his fingers into darker tresses of hair and pulls lightly, which prompts Tarou to move to a steady tempo.
Tarou repeatedly pulls away and rolls his hips into his brother’s, each time hearing him gasp, eyes widening in a mix of pain and pleasure. Jirou finally buries his face in the younger blade's shoulder, gasping and panting against his skin before sinking his teeth into flesh. Tarou groans, the sound vibrating through his chest as a hand travels down slender legs to painted toes.
He then smirks, a gesture that causes heat to roll down the whole of Jiroutachi, as the younger blade hooks his ankle over his shoulder. He presses deeper, now allowing his brother his full length. He has no issues finding the spaces Jirou enjoys to be touched and to feel, and soon he's peppered in more than enough teethmarks and bruises.
“A-Ah..!” Jirou cries, a particularly well-aimed thrust sends flashes across his vision. He releases his brother’s skin, and Tarou slides down his body. He finds the older blade’s cock again and grips it tightly as he continues to pound ruthlessly into the other blade. He gasps himself, rolling his thumb through pre-cum and earning himself yet another cry of pleasure from his partner.
Desire curls in the pit of his stomach, and he pumps Jirou in time (or at least tries to) with their bodies meeting. The sound of flesh on flesh fills the room. Jirou's ankle is on his left side and somehow, his other leg is crawling its way up Tarou's back. Though he wants to complain, he decides it's better to allow this and sits up a bit more, raising Jirou to accommodate both his ankles around his neck. Toes tangle in his hair and, though he would never tell Jirou, he looks very beautiful from this angle. His hair is splayed around him, and his cheeks and lips are flushed a lovely shade of pink. Sweat glistens on his skin like the sparkles of his typical robes.
"Jirou...t-tachi--" he gasps, hips still bucking into the other as quickly as he can. With his hand on the smaller swords length, he can feel every twitch he gives.
"Aniki~... I like it when you, a-ah, c-call to me~"
"I-I know... J-Jirou, nng, I--"
"I'm c-close. Close... T-too," the older admits, his fingers grasping hard at sheets. He then moves them to meet one of his brother’s hands, tangling their fingers together before gasping for breath.
"Hnn~ Jirou..."
"Aniki..!" He calls, back arching as the younger is still deep inside him. One more thrust sends him into climax, vision flashing as he comes, splattering over himself and his brother's hand.
Tarou grits his teeth, finally ready to let go and grips his brother's hand back, rising to his knees to press into Jirou as deep as possible as he releases, all before sighing softly and finally withdrawing from the older oodachi.
Jirou lies there a moment, eyes shimmering with a very contented smile on his face. He doesn't mind the mess and would rather deal with it in the morning. He does take Tarou's fingers though, the ones he's marked with his come, and licks every bit of it away.
Taroutachi can only watch, embarrassed, but mostly enticed in his post-coital state. He finally removes Jirou's legs from his shoulders, lying them down gently before shifting to lie beside the older blade. Both of their hands are still entwined, and he makes no move to release them.
As troublesome as Jirou is, he couldn't ever imagine caring for another so deeply and honestly. That's what kept them together, through everything.
"I like your painted nails," Jirou says softly. He has to break the silence, something both frustrating and irritating to Taroutachi. But he simply chuckles, a very deep and foreign sound, one that makes the older blade's heart flutter in his chest.
"I learned from someone who is very talented,” he has to admit. “Now, Jirou. Let's sleep."
"Who was it? Kashuu? I’ll fight that--"
"You know it was you," Tarou groans, earning an honest laugh from his brother. "Now sleep before I kick you out."
"Aw! How mean~"
"Good night, Jiroutachi."
"Okay okay, good night, Aniki. I’ll see you in the morning~"
Taroutachi chuckles once more, his lips even curling a bit as he gives the older blade’s hand another squeeze. “Yes. I’ll see you in the morning.” He has to confirm, but by then he’s answered by a series of soft snores. He really isn’t sure just how much longer he can handle this. Jiroutachi was quite troublesome, but, he really didn’t think he would have it any other way. With that in mind, he lets his eyes slip closed.
Yes, the morning. All could wait until then.