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When Hakuji finds the demon, it is inevitable that they will come into conflict. Kyojurou stands tall and proud, gesturing at the three demon brats to leave them be, and they obediently wander off to leave Hakuji and Kyojurou dreadfully, mercifully, alone.
Hakuji speaks first. “I suppose this is the part where I say it’s good to see you again.”
The demon smiles back sharply. “And I suppose this is the part where I tell you that yes, it is indeed good to see you again! But we would both be lying, wouldn’t we? And I am loathe to lie!”
“You didn’t miss me?” Hakuji circles the demon warily. Kyojurou is built of acute angles and harsh planes of musculature, a predator bundled tightly into human-looking skin. He watches Hakuji in return, though amusement glitters in his gaze rather than wariness, taunting Hakuji with the fact that they stand on different levels. He could never hope to beat Kyojurou, not in a fair fight.
“I admit, I miss your witticisms. I do not miss your so-called offers for absolution.”
“I always keep it available in case you change your mind.”
“Trust me! I will not!” Kyojurou says cheerfully.
“Worth a shot anyways,” Hakuji replies.
“It isn’t, but who am I to tell you what you should and shouldn’t say?” The demon brushes up against him, fixing him with a terrible smile that promises only the worst to come. Absolution? Ha! Kyojurou would rather cut his own neck. Still, Hakuji will try, knowing the result, and the argument that is paired hand in bitter, aching hand with it, worn through with holes as they repeat the same tired mantra over again.
Hakuji reaches to the demon, extending a lifeline. “Come on. Help us find a cure. Turn back into a human.”
For his trouble, the demon laughs in his face. “You believe that humans will love you for aiding them. The truth is, you could kill me, a Waxing Moon, and they would love you no more than they already do. Humans believe themselves to be above demons. That they are at a moral advantage because they do not eat each other. But they hate, in much larger quantities than demons do. They harbor resentment for years, often for such petty reasons as one acting or appearing different from the other. They hate and they hate while claiming to love, and they kill and maim and torture, all while pointing accusing fingers at us. You think that being a Slayer and protecting them will excuse you from their hatred?” Kyojurou tosses his head back as he chuckles, mirth bleeding through the amusement. “You are a fool if you believe I will ever turn back. And more the fool are you if you believe that their love will overpower their hate for you.”
“What reason would humans have to hate me?” Hakuji shoots back. This time, the argument goes differently.
This time, the demon doesn’t retreat or grin that vicious little grin that’s both mocking and pitying. Kyojurou approaches steadily, and Hakuji allows it, standing dreadfully still in the face of such a predator approaching. His body yells at him to move, his arms tremble at his sides, his nails cutting red lines into the meat of his palm. Kyojurou looms over him. “Tell me you are not serious. Tell me you have not been serious every time we have had this same repeated argument.”
“I’m being perfectly serious right now. Tell me why.”
“Perhaps it would be better to show you,” says the demon, eyes locked on Hakuji’s. He leans in as Hakuji closes his eyes, expecting… Expecting what? To be mauled? Have his throat ripped out as he clutches his neck in wounded agony? No, Hakuji closes his eyes because in the end, he trusts Kyojurou unrepentantly, illogically.
Lips are fixed over his, surprisingly soft and pliant. Hakuji twitches uselessly as Kyojurou kisses him sweet, breathless. The air from his lungs is stolen easily, his heart working overtime to make up for the lack of oxygen, beating strong in his ears. He finally wises up and opens his mouth, stifling a gasp when Kyojurou takes the invitation and slips his tongue inside.
It would have been better if Kyojurou had mauled him and left him to bleed.
In the backdrop of his mind, something is screaming at him that he is kissing a demon and that Kyojurou can and will kill him given the opportunity, but then Kyojurou’s tongue carefully begins exploring the inside of his mouth and Hakuji slams the door to his rational mind shut.
His hands find purchase on the demon’s waist. Despite having a solid grasp on Kyojurou and his feet firmly planted on the ground, Hakuji floats high above himself, kissing back with all the fervor he can muster.
Kyojurou suddenly pulls back, a smug expression plastered to his handsome face. Hakuji leans back in to see if he can’t steal another kiss, stumbling as Kyojurou puts a frankly embarrassing amount of space between them. “Why’d you do that?” Hakuji asks, his face a vivid shade of crimson.
“To prove my point. And also because I wanted to!”
“Your point?”
Kyojurou steps back into the radius of Hakuji’s orbit, dancing just out of reach. “You will not tell the Corps about this not because you are a human and I am a demon. You will not tell them because I am a man, as are you. Imagine the scandal: The savior of the red light district and ardent Slayer of demons romantically involved with another man.”
“You’re wrong,” Hakuji grits out.
“By all means, tell them then!” Kyojurou runs a teasing finger under his chin. Another kiss is what Hakuji needs, another kiss to seal the memory of it into place. He’s rudely denied this. Kyojurou instead kisses the corner of his mouth, a slight smile playing across his lips as he dodges Hakuji’s clumsy attempt to pull them together again.
“Stop it,” he says, breath coming in too hard, too fast. “Stop playing with my feelings to make your point.”
“But now you understand,” Kyojurou says brightly.
“Kyojurou,” he groans in frustration.
“Hakuji!” A hand tangles with his, long, sharp nails scratching his knuckles. “Do you concede?”
“Do I concede what?”
“That humans are the true monsters?”
“That’s an ironic thing to say when you just had your tongue down a human’s throat.” Hakuji finally manages to reel the demon back in, the scent of ash and smoke tickling his nose as he breathes in. Kyojurou always smells like that courtesy of his blood demon art, but despite the indiscriminate flames that burst from his body, he hasn’t ever hit Hakuji with them. He’s turned them from the fragile human, extinguished them, even once redirected them to stop them from burning him. It almost makes Hakuji wonder if Kyojurou truly cares about him somewhere underneath the bluster and bravado of hating humans.
“You are an exception to a long standing rule.”
“What makes me an exception?”
“You really play at not knowing,” Kyojurou says, that same terrible smile infecting his voice. “Fine then. Your willingness to defend the weak and the strong alike. Your frankly horrid attempts at forming a friendship with me. Your disparity with hating demons yet trying to convert me into an ally. Your complexity. Your hypocrisy. You say you would like to kill me, but you did not cut my neck despite clear opportunity.”
Hakuji’s sword vibrates in his limp fingers. Accusing. He shoves it down like he’s shoved down the memory of all the other times he could’ve betrayed Kyojurou and stuck him through. “I’m not betraying the Corps,” he hisses.
“I never said you were.” Kyojurou says. Mirth and unsung laughter swirl in his eyes. “A slip of the tongue, Hakuji?”
“Shut up,” Hakuji replies before pulling the demon into another messy kiss. Kyojurou gets one leg around him and strangles him into a warm embrace; both hands looped around Hakuji’s neck, both the demon’s legs wrapped around his waist, the buttons of his uniform glinting in the moonlight. Hakuji tosses his sword aside and attacks the buttons with a fury and determination like he has never attacked any demon before. The first button goes zing! Into the woods as he pulls at it. “Sorry,” he pants.
Kyojurou only chuckles in amusement. “You still have six more to ruin.”
And really, what is Hakuji meant to say in response to that? The rest of the buttons fall open with more grace, revealing a smooth plane of chest that has Hakuji salivating. The demon is horribly beautiful, stunning Hakuji motionless, rendering him speechless and useless in the face of him.
“Hakuji,” Kyojurou says. “You are not touching me, and that is beginning to become a very pressing issue!”
“Yes sir,” Hakuji stumbles over. He pets Kyojurou’s thighs, ghosts over his erection, trips the bounds of his belt.
“Too slow,” the demon decides, and Hakuji is suddenly staring up at open sky.
Kyojurou holds himself up, positioning himself above Hakuji’s leaking cock. He hadn’t even realized how hard he was with anticipating.
Kyojurou’s hair gleams wildly, his eyes more manic than Hakuji has ever seen them.
“You need more–”
“And I already told you that I trust you not to hurt me,” Kyojurou cuts him off. “If you recall: I am a demon. You could not hurt me if you tried.”
But the image of Kyojurou crying out in pain is too colorful and vivid for Hakuji to dismiss. His stomach twists into knots at the imaginary inflection of agony in Kyojurou’s voice, at the shudder of his demonic body trying in vain to keep Hakuji out. “No,” he says, solid and final. “We do this my way.”
“What, may I ask, does ‘your way’ entail?”
He flips them both over, spreading Kyojurou onto his stomach, laughing at the small yelp the demon looses. “Hit me if you don’t like something.”
“Violence is not the only thing I am capable of, Hakuji, I am also very much a man of words!”
Hakuji spits on his fingers, enough to coat them in a thin layer of saliva. Usually he’d say it’s not enough, but with Kyojurou turning to glare at him, it will have to be enough. He presses his index finger against Kyojurou’s entrance, rubbing it in small circles to get him accustomed to the touch. “Hurry up,” the demon demands.
“Kyojurou,” he groans.
“Hakuji,” Kyojurou mimics. “You sliced off my arms when we first met, this is not–” Hakuji slips his finger inside the demon, reveling in the heat and tightness around him. His erection throbs in the confines of his hakama. “That was unfair!” The demon complains, though in contrast to his complaint, he ruts back onto Hakuji’s finger with naked desperation.
“You wouldn’t shut up,” Hakuji says. His eyes are glued to the sight of Kyojurou swallowing up his finger, rim red and blushing with just the addition of one. He slides his finger in and out, wincing at the dry friction. Spit hadn’t been enough, but it hardly seems to matter to Kyojurou as he keens. “Two,” he says. “Two or I swear to you that I will take what I want without entertaining this.”
So Hakuji adds another finger, twisting and scissoring them apart. He spits on them again to wet them despite Kyojurou’s insistence against it.
Kyojurou had grown silent in the interim between two and three fingers, but as Hakuji works in a fourth the demon finds the voice to gasp, thighs parting to allow Hakuji deeper. “There,” he demands, and Hakuji obliges, pistoning his fingers in and out. Kyojurou moans, burying his face into his arms. “Will you believe me this time if I tell you I am ready?”
“I’ll consider it,” Hakuji manages.
“Then I am ready.”
“I won’t hurt you?”
The same voice says in shrill tones that Kyojurou is a demon and can’t be hurt, that even if he is hurt it won’t matter because he’s a monster underneath the thin caricature of caring that he puts on for Hakuji. Hakuji not only ignores the voice, he shoves it into a broom closet in his mind, locks the door, and throws away the key.
“You will not!” Kyojurou wiggles his hips. “Now if you please–”
Hakuji tears off his own uniform with reckless abandon, throwing his hakama somewhere to the left while the rest of his uniform goes elsewhere to the right. His hands shake as he positions himself behind Kyojurou, lining himself up with the demon. He can already feel the waves of heat rolling off the demon.
“Hakuji,” Kyojurou says in warning, his hand coming up to grasp Hakuji’s leaking cock and place it at his entrance.
“I know, I know, just–”
Hakuji cries out at the overwhelming feeling of the demon around him, being inside him, meanwhile Kyojurou gasps and shudders, halting his backwards movement as he adjusts to the cock bullying its way into his body. Hakuji’s hips twitch, desperate to pull back and snap forward, but he holds himself off to ask, “are you alright?”
Kyojurou’s response comes in the form of a kiss, tongue sweeping across the expanse of Hakuji’s lips to gain access to his mouth. He kisses with a tenderness that demons shouldn’t possess, fangs brushing across Hakuji’s skin gently, never once coming close to biting.
What would that feel like? Hakuji wildly thinks. To have Kyojurou bite him? Trust him so fully that he quite literally holds Hakuji’s life in his jaw?
“I am more than alright!” Kyojurou says against his lips.
“I’m not hurting–”
“If you ask me one more time if you are hurting me, I will finish this myself!”
“Kyojurou, it’s not that I don’t–” he struggles for a moment to find the words he wants to use.
“Yes?” The demon prompts, though not without pulling the slightest inch off of Hakuji and moving back down, sighing at the drag of the thick cock inside of him.
Hakuji shudders in response. “I see you as breakable or– or that I think you’re weak, it’s that with you being a demon, I could hurt you and I wouldn’t even notice because you wouldn’t tell me. I don’t want that. I’d never want to hurt you.”
Kyojurou blinks at him, eyes rounded in surprise. “You are a Slayer. It should not matter to you whether you hurt me or not.”
“But it does,” Hakuji argues. “It shouldn’t matter to me, but I care about you.” To emphasize this, he brushes the back of his knuckles against the demon’s cheek. His skin feels like the surface of the sun; ardently hot and willing to burn Hakuji to ashes. The worst part? Hakuji would allow it.
Kyojurou sucks in a breath. “This is a dangerous path you tread.”
“I’d gladly tread it with you.”
Hakuji lifts his leg and places it on his shoulder, keeping him fully exposed. Kyojurou holds nothing back as Hakuji pushes back inside, throwing his head back and moaning long and loud. He leaves hot kisses on the demon's neck, his nape, a smattering across his shoulders. He even bites on occasion, but it hardly matters. Kyojurou's body heals them right back up as if they'd never existed at all. He in turn punishes the demon with rough thrusts, punching him forward as Kyojurou shivers and moans.
“Inside of me,” the demon says. His eyes are unfocused, his arms trembling as he flips over. Hakuji's cock slips out of him before the demon pushes it back inside, and Hakuji has to bite back an embarrassing whine.
Kyojurou tangles him into a full body embrace. Hakuji is hardly able to pull away or thrust, only able to weakly grind into the demon with small swivels of his hips. “You’ve finished already.”
“And I’m able to keep going again, as many times as you wish.” Kyojurou brushes his hair out of his eyes. His sweaty bangs stick to his forehead, making him look absolutely debauched. Hakuji glances down discreetly. A good amount of come coats the front of the demon’s stomach and chest in pearly drops of white.
“Okay,” he says. “You’d tell me if it starts hurting?”
A kiss to his forehead is his reply, as is the measured, “of course,” Kyojurou indulges him with.
Hakuji forces the demon’s legs wider, spreading him wide as he pounds into him. The rhythm must hit that sweet spot inside of Kyojurou, because the demon’s eyes glaze over with crystalline tears and he immediately begins to heave small moans that cut themselves short. “Ah, ah, Hakuji, Hakuji ,” Kyojurou repeats, almost incoherently. Hakuji’s name slurs together, becoming a huff of air as the demon arches his back and comes again, sparks of pleasure lighting down his spine.
“Keep going,” Kyojurou pants as Hakuji slows his pace, considerate of the demon’s refractory period.
“It feels good?” He questions, though his mind is melting and barely aware of little else aside from Kyojurou.
Nails tickle the underside of his chin. “Do you want me to tell you how good it feels to be with you Hakuji? How it is everything I imagined and more? How I enjoy that you care about my pleasure in addition to yours?”
Hakuji is struck speechless once again. “You imagined this with me?” He asks stupidly. What would Kyojurou have thought of? Did he wrap a hand around his lovely cock and think of Hakuji fucking him, did he ride his own fingers, did he mouth Hakuji’s name during?
Kyojurou says, “well obviously!” And Hakuji is left to wonder as he pumps his hips into the demon.
Two, three, setting up a rhythm that is instantly broken as Kyojurou mouths at his palm, fangs carefully piercing skin. “Do it,” Hakuji begs.
Twin flames of pain in Hakuji’s palm flare to life, pounding and dull, he feels his blood slipping into the demon’s mouth as Kyojurou runs his tongue over the puncture wounds. That, combined with Kyojurou spasming around him as he’s thrust into overstimulation, finally does Hakuji in. Stars explode into his vision, bursting bright white behind his eyelids. He groans, answered by Kyojurou mewling as he’s filled.
Hakuji slumps, sweat beading on his skin. He’s never been more drained, more exhausted, and more fulfilled in his life. Kyojurou squirms under him, still weak from his last orgasm. Hakuji’s release drips from him steadily, forming a small puddle under his thighs. The demon takes a deep breath before he speaks.
“Muzan will not be happy with you if he finds out.”
“We can talk about it later. Can’t we have this moment?”
Kyojurou’s mouth curves up, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. “You wish to avoid the issue while you bask in the afterglow.”
“And if I do? Is that so fucking bad? You know, you’re terrible at aftercare,” Hakuji says, pressing Kyojurou’s face into his chest to hopefully shut him up and let them both rest.
Kyojurou doesn’t do him any favors as he says: “If they find out…”
“That’s a big if.”
“It will be your head.”
“Which one?” Hakuji gives him a cheeky smile as the demon rolls his eyes to the heavens.
“Be serious about this. I care for you as you care for me, I don’t want to see you executed for lying with a man.”
“Kyojurou,” Hakuji softens his voice. “I won’t be. I’ll keep this secret for as long as I need to. And if it helps, I doubt they’d execute me for fucking another man as opposed to executing me for fucking a demon.”
“It does not help. It’s simply–” Kyojurou sighs. “”I wish you did not have to keep it a secret. I wish that we could have these moments whenever we wanted. I wish that you and I were in accordance about demons.”
“Not happening, unfortunately.” Hakuji says.
“I know.” The demon’s fingers run through his hair, grazing his scalp. Hakuji shivers under the affectionate touch. “I know, and yet I still wish.”
“Maybe in another life,” Hakuji says. He can’t imagine it: Kyojurou as a human, bereft of his demonic crests. They were always destined to be opposed, demon against human. The sun and the moon, revolving around each other in a waltz, but never meant to touch.
Kyojurou reaches out and captures Hakuji’s bottom lip under his thumb. “In another life,” he repeats, but Hakuji doubts that he can imagine them together in another life either. The image will be just as colorless, just as lifeless. Kyojurou kisses him one last time, rising to his feet after. “Dawn is coming. Please be safe, Hakuji. Do not make the same mistakes I did.”
“Okay,” Hakuji agrees pleasantly, and with that, the demon is gone.